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#no wonder dude is as gruff as he is
nychthemeron-rants · 2 months
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Ok, so IDK how canon the ages we have for when the Hazbin crew died is, but it has been giving me massive fucking brainrot.
But not only that, but also the match up of their ages and the eras in which they died.
There was a point in time where Alastor, Angel Dust, and Husk were all alive at the same time.
Assuming "mid-30's" means 35, it means that since Angel died in 1947, he was born in 1912.
Husk dying at 75 in the 70's means he was born in the 1900's or maybe even the late 1890's.
Alastor being in his 40's when he died in 1933 means he was born in the 1890's (roughly)
So from 1912 (ish), to 1933 all 3 were alive at the same time.
At the time of Alastor's death: Alastor was in his 40's, Husk was in his mid 30's to maybe early 40's, and Angel (or rather Anthony as we know his human name) was about 21.
Also all 3 experienced the great depression. Husk and Angel experienced WW2. Theres a chance they both fought in the fucking war!
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nymph1e · 1 year
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In case any non-swr fan was wondering over the hype of seeing Zeb - he's half of the closest thing the star wars universe has to a canon mlm couple.
This is the last shot we have of him in rebels:
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He's taking his enemy-turned-ally, Kallus to his ancestral homeworld. To live together.
According to Zeb's voice actor (Steve Blum - general awesome dude) he and Kallus get married and have children after rebels (potentially mpreg children lol).
And this is leaving out the fact that he is just generally cool. He's a loveable comic relief goof who survived the genocide of his people at the hands of the empire. He's a violent terrorist, he's an honourable warrior, the last of a dead order. He's hopelessly optimistic and helplessly pessimistic. He's a faithless child of prophecy. He's gruff and loving and kind of completely insane and he will kill you if you hurt his found family.
So yeah. He's a great character, and is as close to canonically queer as Disney will let him get. Of course tumblr fans are gonna love him (also we're all monstefuckers here)
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this is just here because LOOK AT HIM GUYS IT'S ZEB
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thatmrmiller · 1 year
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Every Man Gets his Wish
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Warnings: 18+ smut, significant age gap, virgin!reader, kinda purity/corruption kink, problematic conversations around the hetero-normative concept of virginity, unprotected sex, power imbalance, cheating, blackmail/ coercion, noncon, forced breeding. Dead Dove, very creepy content, overall discretion advised.
WC: 3.1k
A/N: credit to @serenaxpedro for the prompt, what an idea... Title is from the unreleased Lana song!
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Sarah Miller was your college roommate. You became friends quickly, she was bubbly and personable and you felt as though you had known her for years.
Soon it turned into something else, you weren't sure you were necessarily official, but you fooled around together and dated. Then, one weekend, she invited you to go home with her.
So there you were, in her childhood bedroom. Her dad was out and you were both hanging out the window, sharing a joint. She was giggly at the best of times but combined with the weed, she was downright ridiculous.
"Shhh!" You urged. "What if he comes home?"
"You think he didn't smoke weed in his twenties?" She laughs.
"That's different, you- We-" She pulls a silly expression, waiting for you to go on, but you burst out into laughter before you can finish your thought.
After the joint is finished you lay in bed together, her on her back with her head on the pillow and you on your stomach next to her, kicking your legs up in the air behind you.
You point out a poster on the wall "Who the hell is that?" You ask.
She laughs and gets out her phone. "A band I was obsessed with when I was younger. Listen."
She plays a terrible song, an angsty boyband and you laugh along with her.
You hadn't even heard her dad's truck pull up or him enter the house.
"I had such a crush on him." She admits, showing you a photo of one of the band members.
"Gross." You say.
"I thought you liked guys too?" She responds.
"I do, I guess, but I'm picky."
"What do you mean by picky?"
"Well... I've slept with probablyyyy..." You drag out the word. "I don't know. A few girls at least. But never a guy."
She laughs. "So you're a virgin?"
You throw a pillow at her softly. "I'm not a-" You laugh too. "I'm not a virgin. There's nothing that says you must sleep with a dude to lose your virginity."
She hums, unconvinced.
Neither of you are aware that her dad is standing right outside the bedroom door. He hadn't even meant to snoop, he was just going to knock and tell you he was home. But he was interested in the conversation and listened in.
"I just have never met a guy I was remotely interested in sleeping with. They're so. Bleh." You pull a face as you make the mocking sound and she laughs.
"Well you're in college now so I'm sure that will change."
"College boys are no better than high school boys. They all suck." You giggle.
"I'm hungry." She announces, and jumps off the bed.
Just then, a knock sounds on the bedroom door.
"Can I come in?" A gruff voice sounds.
Your eyes widen in panic, worried he will come in, smell the weed, and lose his shit. You know your own dad would. Sarah sees your nerves and rolls her eyes at you.
"What is it?" She responds.
The door opens and you see Sarah's dad for the first time. He is tall and broad, visibly muscular under his tight dark tshirt. You look away, worried you were staring. But then again, you're high, and paranoid, and you probably weren't.
"Just came in to say I'm home. You girls need anything?" He asks.
"Food." Sarah says quickly. Too quickly. You shoot her a look.
He just laughs, muttering "I wonder why." Then he continues, "Well I went to the store today. There's chips, and, other stuff, I think."
She is already pushing past him.
He watches her go and then his gaze turns to you. He is smirking. He must be able to tell you are squirming with anxiety.
"I don't care about the weed." He says.
Your eyes are still wide in panic. You don't know what to respond.
He walks further into the room, still watching you.
"So..." He says. "You're Sarah's... Girlfriend?"
You feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment.
"Shouldn't you ask her that?" You say. Admittedly, it maybe comes out ruder than you intended.
He laughs and whistles. "Alright. Feisty. I see why she likes you."
You don't respond. You continue to stare at him. You don’t know what he wants from you, and the whole ‘Cool Dad’ thing isn’t particularly impressive to you.
He licks his lips. “Anyway, from what I hear, sounds like you’re a good girl. So I don’t mind.”
You wonder what he means by that and realise he must have heard the conversation that you were having just before he came in. If it was possible, you feel yourself blushing harder.
His gaze is practically painful, you feel so embarrassed. The look on his face tells you that he knows this, and something else behind his eyes tells you he might even be enjoying it.
“I liked what I heard.” He says. You can see his gaze wandering all over you, you are only wearing a vest and shorts. “Always better to skip messing around with boys and wait for a man.”
You don’t meet his eye.
Sarah’s footsteps approach and he goes to leave the room, shooting you a wink.
She enters with her arms ladened with chips, soda, and candy.
You laugh at the sight of her. She closes the door behind herself with her foot.
“What did he want?” She asks, dropping her stash on the bed.
“Oh umm…” You try and think of what to say. “Just asking how school’s going.”
She laughs. “Surprising. He doesn’t take an interest in my degree.”
You just smile back and shrug. You feel bad about lying but you don’t know how to explain that you think her dad might have been creeping on you.
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You lay in bed together, eating snacks and playing on your phones.
After a while, you’re thirsty. “I need water.” You say.
“Go help yourself.” She says, smiling.
“What if your dad’s downstairs?” You ask.
“It doesn’t matter.” She responds.
“But-”
“Don’t be a baby.” She taunts. “You can go to the kitchen without me holding your hand.”
You hit her playfully. She knows you’re not even shy so you don’t have a good excuse as to why you don’t want to go down alone.
You groan loudly and stand up.
“Can I at least get a sweater? I feel naked.”
She gestures to one strewn over her chair.
“Thanks.” You say. You put it on and it drowns you, covering your shorts.
You tiptoe down to the first floor quietly, not wanting your movements around the house to be easily noticeable.
You hear the television on as you get to the bottom of the stairs and realise he is in the living room, you would have to walk directly past him to get to the kitchen.
You flash him a smile as you pass, and he stares at you. You turn round when you enter the kitchen and he’s still staring, his eyes glued to your ass. He doesn’t even try to be subtle. Gross.
You find the cupboard that contains the glasses and run the tap. You jump as you turn round and find he is standing there, only the kitchen island separating you.
“Cute sweater.” He says, pointing at your chest.
“Umm…” You look down. It has the name of a baseball team on it. “It’s Sarah’s.”
“Actually, it’s mine.” He corrects.
“Oh. Sorry. She gave it to me.”
“Nothing to be sorry about, darlin’. Looks good. Keep it.” He says, nodding.
You don’t argue, but it’s not like you are actually going to keep it. You’ll just take it right back off and give it to Sarah. You only put it on so you didn’t attract his attention. It unfortunately had the opposite effect.
You have dealt with creepy guys before, but you have never been in their house. It is so much more intimidating. The fact he was attractive made it harder too, drawing you to him despite the obvious danger he posed.
You offer him a stiff smile and go to make your way round the kitchen counter and past him. He sidesteps and blocks your path.
An awkward laugh escapes you, and you look up at him.
He watches you, smiling. The tension is getting to you. He doesn’t make any move out of your way.
“What do you want from me?” You whisper.
“What? Nothing, sweetheart.” He says, frowning in confusion.
For a moment, you thought he was being genuine and you think you might have been reading this all wrong. Guilt twinges at you and you consider the situation. Maybe he was just lonely and awkward. Maybe Sarah didn’t have people round often and he was genuinely trying to be welcoming in his own way.
But he still doesn’t move.
“Excuse me.” You whisper.
He reaches a hand out to touch your face. You recoil but he pursues you, taking another step closer.
He runs his thumb across your lips.
“Funny. What you said earlier about being a virgin. It’s so obvious to me now.” He says.
You freeze in place, feeling your face heating in shock and embarrassment.
“There’s this… Look in your eyes. And how shy and embarrassed you get, how much you blush.” He says softly. One of his hands is gently stroking at your face, his thumb still tracing your bottom lip.
You try not to meet his eye, desperately looking for something else to focus on.
“Maybe you could use a lesson.” He muses.
“Mr Miller I-”
He finally steps away. “Hey, no pressure. I’m just kidding.”
Then, as you walked away, he slapped your ass.
You curse yourself for moments ago considering giving him the benefit of the doubt. He knew exactly what he was doing.
You couldn’t turn to face him so you scurried back up the stairs. You heard him chuckle behind you and your skin crawled. What was this guy’s problem?
You slammed the door behind you after hurrying into Sarah’s room.
“Woah.” She says, looking up to take in your expression. “What’s wrong?”
She reaches out to you and you climb onto the bed beside her.
You try to smile but it’s stiff and you feel closer to tears than anything.
“I don’t know. Bad weed I think. I feel so weird.”
You couldn’t tell her what was going on with Mr Miller. You barely understood yourself, never mind trying to explain it.
“Come here, chicken.” She says, reaching out and pulling you into her chest. You laughed a little at the nickname you had for each other.
Her sweet scent and warmth lulls you to sleep.
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You wake up in the early hours of the morning needing to use the bathroom.
You pad barefoot across the hall and into the main bathroom. As you wash your hands, there is a soft knock at the door. You are still dazed from sleep and you open it.
You are instantly pushed backwards and the door closes again. Mr Miller.
He presses you into the counter immediately. He seems to have been drinking the whole time you have been asleep, his eyes a little glazed over and his movements slightly off balance.
“How you doin’?” He slurs.
“I’m fine, please-” He grinds into you, you are pinned against the counter and both his arms are either side of you, caging you in.
“Please, don’t do this.” You plead.
“What?” He says. “What don’t you want me to do?”
“I don’t know- just, any of this, please. I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“I think you did ask for it, baby. Think you’ve been asking for it all night. You came into my house, you bragged about never having been fucked before, and you expect me not to take that as a challenge? Paraded around in my clothes in front of me, with your ass out like a whore? Huh? That’s not asking for it?”
You feel tears forming in your eyes. “Bragging? No, honestly, that was a private conversation. One that you were not supposed to be involved in.”
“This is my house. Nothing that happens under my roof is private from me. Don’t be disrespectful.” He spits.
Your fear and discomfort turns into frustration. “Is this what you do? Force yourself on all of Sarah’s guests? I should go tell her.”
You try to push past him but he grabs both of your wrists and pushes his groin harder against you. You can practically taste the alcohol on his breath because of how close he is to you.
“Maybe I’ll go tell her you tried it on with me. She’ll be heartbroken, doll. You’re a real catch.”
You glare at him. This is fully-fledged blackmail.
“And then what ya’ gonna do?” He continues. “College is a long way off. So is home. It’s the middle of the night.”
You swallow your retort, realising he is right. You are technically stuck here, at least until the morning. You try a different tactic, sighing deeply.
“Listen, Mr. Miller, I’m really sorry for all this. I think we got off on the wrong foot. I, I don't want this. Can we just agree to forget all this, please? For Sarah?”
His eyes flash with something violent.
“Don’t bring her into this.”
“Please Mr-”
“Don’t call me that.” He snaps.
“Why?” You say sweetly.
He grabs your hand and forces it against the hard bulge in his jeans. “Because you’re turning me on.”
You could always yell out to Sarah.
As if reading your mind, he brings a hand to your mouth and presses down, covering it. His other hand works it’s way into your shorts. You squirm and try to kick at him but he’s strong and holds you in place.
“No one’s had you before?” He says. “Really?”
He isn’t looking for an answer, as he doesn’t take his hand away that is gripping your mouth.
“I haven’t fucked a virgin in years.” He says.
Your skin crawls at the thought as he continues to rub the outside of your underwear. You are doing all you can to avert your gaze and avoid his eyes, not wanting to see the sick look of pleasure he is bound to have behind them.
His fingers are rubbing through your folds, it is unpleasant, you aren’t getting wet because you are so uncomfortable. He takes his hand out and spits on it before forcing it back into your underwear, roughly inserting two fingers inside you.
He groans as he pushes them inside of you, you continue to whimper against the hand he has pressed to your mouth. He curls his fingers deep inside you and the stretch is painful.
He flashes you a dangerous look and hisses "Don't make a sound."
He removes the hand covering your mouth and you are intimidated into doing as he says, keeping quiet.
With both hands he tears off your shorts and underwear, and spins you round so your ass faces him and you are looking in the mirror.
You close your eyes, not wanting to see him or yourself as the situation unfolds. You feel him unzipping his jeans behind you and the heavy weight of his erect cock hits your ass. You feel him stroke himself a few times before gripping your thighs and spreading them apart, lifting one of your knees up to the counter and shifting himself to enter inside of you.
"Please don't-" You whimper, your voice weak and quiet.
He hisses at you to be quiet again.
He rubs his cock through your folds a couple of times before bringing it to your entrance. You gasp as he pushes it into you mercilessly, you are tight and unprepared. He stuffs himself inside you all the way to the hilt and tears threaten to spill from your eyes.
He immediately sets an aggressive pace, not a care for your discomfort as you squirm under him. His hands grip you roughly, holding you as still as possible to allow him to have his way with you.
After a while, you get used to the feeling and grow numb to the pain of his huge cock piercing into you. He breathes heavily in your ear and you cringe at the intimate sounds, trying your best to shut out all of the sensations, trying not to feel, not to hear, not to watch as he does this.
“Look at yourself, fuckin’ slut.” He says. He pulls your hair so as to lift your head up, forcing you face to face with yourself in the mirror. “Every girl’s good till she takes the right cock. Then look. Turns you all into filthy fuckin’ whores.”
Your expressions are pornographic. Your brows are pulled together and your eyes are practically glazed over. You look cock drunk and ridiculous. You barely have it in you to be ashamed of yourself, as you are starting to enjoy what he is doing to you.
“You’re gonna think of me every time you take another cock.” He hisses in your ear. “You’re never gonna have anyone again without wishing it was me fucking this tight little cunt.”
You don't respond, your eyes drifting closed. He grips your face roughly. "Keep them open. Watch yourself. You like it."
He shows no mercy with his rough thrusts, but his pace eventually begins to slow. "Gonna fill you with my cum. You want that?"
You look at him in panic and he seems to enjoy that, a twisted grin appearing on his face once again.
"P-Please, no-" You stutter. "Please don't-"
"Shut up and take it." He grunts, his thrusts somehow feeling deeper than ever as he ruts into you.
After a few moments he releases a strangled groan and stills inside you. You feel his hot release leaking into you and you let out a sob. He watches you in glee as he pulls out and your legs shake, struggling to steady yourself against the counter.
He tucks his cock into his jeans and you keep your eyes pressed shut, you can't look at him.
“You’re welcome back any time, honey.” He says.
He exits the bathroom and you are left to deal with your girlfriend’s dad’s cum dripping down your inner thighs.
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ThatMrMiller Masterlist
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atarathegreat · 1 month
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Hello! May request a Draken sibling!Reader x Mikey. Any scenario and/or headcanons will do! Thx♡
No one knew what the hell was wrong with the commander. For weeks on end Mikey had been acting weird, not acting as childish or as ruthless. Even in fights, he was more inclined to let people at least have the ability to walk away, which was a little concerning to Draken. All the founders and captains were used to Mikey absolutely destroying his opponent, and he just suddenly...stopped.
Draken leaned back on his bed, watching his friend. "The hell is up with you recently, man?" Kenny couldn't take it. Especially when Mikey was over to hang out, he wasn't acting like himself. "What do you mean, Ken-chin?" Mikey looked up from the comic book in his hand. "Dude, you've been acting strange as hell." Draken threw a pillow at him. Mikey was the only one who hadn't noticed this change. He thought he was the same as always.
"Kenny!" Mikey straightened up at the cute voice, "I brought you and Mikey some drinks." Draken's little sister came in and set down a couple of drinks. She was only a few months older than Emma, and Mikey figured that if Kenny had a crush on Emma, then he could have a crush on Y/n. Dark eyes watched as she plopped down next to her brother, "And the ladies said that, when you have time, they need help moving a couple boxes."
"I'll get to it when I get to it. Damn." Draken rolled his eyes, "Don't they know I'm busy?"
Y/n giggled, and Mikey felt like his heart was going to implode. She was adorable. Unlike Emma, she had no desire to grow up fast, be more mature, or even dress like she had something to show. Mikey loved his sister, of course, but this girl... she was everything he wanted, and he couldn't help but compare and contrast the two the same way he did to himself and Kenny. Draken was mature and careful where Mikey was childish and impulsive. Was Y/n the same as him? He really hoped so.
"What about you, Mikey? Can you help?" Y/n turned to the shorter blonde.
Draken tugged on her ponytail, "Hey, don't start asking my friends to do your chores!"
"I'm asking for help, you overgrown lima bean!"
"Watch your mouth, you underdeveloped mouse!"
It was always weird when the two argued, hurling meaningless insults at each other that Draken would apologize for later.
For a second, Mikey wondered if she'd even be into a short guy. He was just around below average, but she grew up staring at the ceiling to talk to her brother. What if she couldn't stand looking eye level at him? Or what if she wanted someone with a deeper voice? Mikey wasn't exactly...gruff.
"Stop being a brat!" Y/n was pinning Draken down and jerking on his shirt, "I'm only asking for help, not for him to do everything for me!" Kenny could've easily thrown her off, but she was his baby sister. So, he yelled to Mikey for help. "Mikey, grab this deranged dust bunny!"
Mikey was careful to grab around her waist, no higher and no lower, to pull her away from her brother. He liked carrying Y/n, but he didn't want to hold on for too long and risk Draken seeing that he had a crush. "We should bring her along to our next fight and set her loose on the guys!" Mikey laughed, though he wouldn't actually let her anywhere near a fight. "I'll help you with whatever it is." Mikey smiled, ignoring the way Draken groaned and told him not to bother.
Despite her brothers' warnings to not help, Mikey followed her through the brothel and to her own little room. "I just need help moving these boxes to the room across from Kenny's." She crouched down and picked up a box, a box that Mikey quickly grabbed from her. "Alright." He grabbed another box underneath it, "Lead the way."
Maybe he would just confess to Y/n when Kenny confessed to Emma...
yes, the parallel is on purpose :)
Part 2
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valleyof-goldenlilies · 4 months
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A Christmas Visitor - Modern!Jace Velaryon x Reader
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Summary: Jace takes it upon himself to cheer you up for your first Christmas spent alone.
Pairing: Modern! Jace Velaryon x AFAB! Reader
Warnings: fluffy boyfriend Jace, profanity, blowjob, face fucking, degradation, mentions of masturbation (both f and m) (let me know if i missed anything out!)
Word Count: 1.92k words
A/N: hoe hoe hoe! a very merry late Christmas and Happy New Year in advance from me to you :) this one is for those Jace girlies out there ;) I hope you enjoy!
lovely dividers credited to @firefly-graphics !
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It was set to be a lonely Christmas for you. 
But honestly? You had no one to blame but yourself. You were the one who had decided to migrate to another continent entirely for university, whilst most of your friends had stayed in King’s Landing, or other parts of Westeros, including your boyfriend, Jace Velaryon. 
But Braavos University was undoubtedly the best university in the known world to pursue a degree in economics, and when you had gotten the acceptance email, Jace had urged you to go, telling you that you would be an idiot if you passed up on the chance. 
Braavos was a wonderful place: a melting pot of different cultures, interesting architectural structures, along with an intriguing history. You loved studying and living here, but at times, especially now, during the festive season, you especially missed home. You missed seeing Jace’s wonderful, handsome, smiling face, missed his kisses, his hugs, his warmth, his everything. 
In a video call with your boyfriend a few days ago, you had expressed how much you’d missed him, and he had given you a sad smile in return. 
“I miss you too, honey,” Jace said earnestly, covering his headphones’ speakers again when a loud noise erupted from behind him. You winced at the feedback from the mic. “Cregan, hey bud, mind keeping it down a little?” Jace called out. “I’m video calling my girlfriend here.” 
“Sorry dude!” A manly voice that was most definitely not Cregan called back, and you had to stifle a laugh at Jace’s knowing, disgusted look. “Ugh, these animals, I swear,” Jace joked, turning his attention back to you. His expression softened. “Hey honey, I know it’s hard on you. I wish there was something I can do to make you feel better.” 
You smiled, trying to cheer up a bit for his sake. “It’s alright, really. I’m doing fine here, I’m just being a bit mopey because I miss you and stuff.” 
“Aww,” Jace blew you a kiss through the computer screen. “I miss you too, honey. Uni life just isn’t the same without you. But you are still coming back for summer break, right?” 
You nodded, blowing back a kiss to him. “Yeah, of course I am. I can’t wait-“ A crash and a gruff laugh sounded from behind Jace, and Jace’s eyes widened as he turned back to try and catch a glimpse of what was going on. “Jace, buddy, I might need some help here!” A voice that was definitely Cregan groaned out. 
“I’m sorry babe, I gotta go,” Jace said apologetically. “Trust those guys to get wild when I’m trying to call my girlfriend.” 
“No, it’s fine,” you tried to stifle a giggle. “You’re like their mom, you know.” “Am not,” Jace pouted, before blowing you a kiss. “I’ll video call you on Christmas, alright? I love you, baby.” 
“Love you too, Jacey.” You blew him a kiss back before your computer screen went dark, and you sighed, slumping back in your seat. Video calling him had somehow made you miss him even more. 
But alas, such was life. When the morning sunlight streamed through your dorm windows on Christmas Day, you had already carefully planned out your day. 
“Okay, so,” you tapped your pencil on your paper, filled with a list of the things you wanted to do. First, I go across the campus to get those delicious pretzels from Lancelot’s Bakery, then I head to the grocery shop to get myself some chicken to cook chicken Alfredo pasta for lunch. Then-“ 
A knock at your dorm room caused you to look up from your list, puzzled. Your dorm mates had all left for their own homes for the holidays, so who could that be? You set down your pencil, moving to open the door. “Yes-?” Your jaw dropped when you saw who it was standing outside the door. 
“Jace!” You let out a cry of delight at your boyfriend’s warm, smiling face. The smile that you had missed so much. 
“Hey, baby-“ Jace barely had time to finish his sentence before you launched yourself at him, jumping into his arms and kissing him hungrily. Jace nearly staggered under your weight, hands going to stabilise you as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He savoured the taste of your lips, feeling you melt against him and nearly tearing up when you realised that he was real. 
Oh, how he missed you. How he missed this. 
Jace quickly brought you into your dorm room, kicking the door shut behind him as he didn’t break the kiss. He set you down on the edge of the desk that you were writing on, tongue tangling eagerly with yours. “Mmm, I missed you so much,” he mumbled against your lips, fumbling for the zipper of the shorts that you were wearing. “I missed your lips, your scent, your pussy…” 
You let out a laugh, breaking the kiss to rest your forehead against his. “Someone’s eager, huh?” 
“Don’t act like you aren’t,” Jace chided, chuckling as he pulled your shorts off. “Nearly six months without you has been absolute torture. I had to stroke my own dick almost every night for the first few months you know.” A pleasant shiver shot through you at the imagery: Jace stroking himself to the thought of you every day, groaning as he spilled himself in his hand. 
“Sounds like I should make it up to you then,” you said slyly, pushing yourself off the desk and getting on your knees. Jace’s breath hitched as he took in the sight of you, radiant, rosy, glowing, down on your knees in front of him. Where you belong. 
You made fast work of his jeans, unbuckling his belt and tugging his jeans and boxers down in one go. Your mouth nearly watered at the sight of his length, long and leaking with precum. You ran your fingers along the vein in his cock, teasing him, and Jace groaned, pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail. “Baby…don’t be a tease,” Jace’s voice was low, pleading. You simply laughed, looking cheeky as you debated on whether you should give him what he wanted. 
Jace nearly saw stars when your hot mouth got to work on his dick, licking the underside of it, letting the precum collect on your tongue. His grip in your hair tightened. “Love…” 
Slowly, you began to take his cock into your mouth. The loud, scandalous, squelching noise of you taking his dick inch by inch reverberated throughout your empty dorm room, making Jace grow even harder, if that was even possible. He had dreamt of this moment so many times for the last few months…
He made a low, strangled noise in his throat as you hollowed out your cheeks to accommodate even more of him, trying not to gag in the meantime. His fingers tangled even deeply into your hair, “That’s it, that’s fucking it. Take all of me in,” Jace encouraged you. “You can do it. You’re a good girl for me, aren’t you?” 
Your answering nod caused your head to bob on his dick a little, and Jace moaned at the sight. He could just die happy now. 
“Can I fuck your face, sweetheart?” Jace asked tenderly, but you knew that his tone of voice, while friendly, left no room for negotiation. So you only looked up at him with those adorable doe eyes, and nodded slightly. Jace smirked, pulling out a bit before thrusting himself back into your throat. 
He continued to fuck your face, going slow and gentle at first, then his thrusts grew more and more erratic as he felt your hot little mouth envelop his dick just so perfectly. The sound of your fingers playing with your pussy as he face-fucked you however, drew him back to attention again. 
“Hey,” he slapped your cheek lightly, getting your attention as you looked up at him with wide eyes, having been caught. “You’re not allowed to touch that pussy as I face fuck you.” Your expression of dismay almost made him feel bad. 
Almost. 
“No touching yourself, sweetheart. Or else I won’t let you cum later, you understand?” Your eyes teared up a little, and Jace watched you with a smirk as your expression grew desperate, but you could simply nod obediently, knowing that Jace would make good on that promise. 
“Good girl,” he soothed you, before thrusting into your mouth even harder, faster. 
Your moans were muffled by his cock, but Jace let his unfiltered noises echo throughout the room, his curses and groans and praises only making you wetter. “Yeah, that’s it, baby…taking this dick like a pro, huh? What a dirty little slut you are.” 
You could barely speak with his dick in your mouth, and Jace could feel himself getting closer as he watched your tits bounce in that skimpy top you had on. He couldn’t wait to have his hands and mouth all over them, kissing and biting and sucking on your hardened buds. The thought alone was enough to send him over the edge, and when you began playing with his balls, he completely lost it. 
Letting out a rough moan, he spilled himself in you, his hot load shooting down your throat. The vibrations of your muffled moans around his cock made it feel even better. 
He pulled out, watching your dazed, blissed out face. Gently tilting your chin up to face him, he ordered you, “Swallow all that for me, sweetheart.” 
Obligingly, you did so, and Jace let out a sigh of pleasure. “Good girl. Come here.” He helped you up from your knees, gently hoisting you up onto the desk again while rubbing your red knees with his thumbs like a perfect gentleman. Then, his hands found his way to your cheek again, and his lips to yours. He could taste himself on your tongue, and he groaned into your mouth, hand going to palm at your tits through the fabric of your top. 
“Best Christmas present I could ask for,” he murmured, sweetly pecking you on the lips. “Which reminds me,” you brought up, voice a bit hoarse after that intense face-fucking. “How’d you get here?” 
“I flew out, duh.” You smacked Jace’s shoulder at that non-serious response. “Ow. I flew out all the way for you, and you abuse me like this?” Jace rubbed his hot shoulder, looking like a kicked puppy. “Hurts me right in my feelings, baby.” 
“I’m serious,” you pressed, and Jace laughed, kissing your pouting lips. “I don’t know, you just looked so sad over the video call…I just had to come and see you.” 
“And your family was cool with it?” Jace laughed again, rubbing your shoulder reassuringly. “Mom’s always chill about it, don’t worry. And you know my little brothers; they always act like they’re happy to be rid of me.” 
“But for now,” Jace’s lips met yours again, searing, wanting. “Can we stop talking about how I got here and focus on worshipping you instead?” You giggled, tightening your arms around his neck. “Well, in that case-“ 
A clatter outside your door made you and Jace freeze in your tracks, wide eyes going to the door. “What was that-“ 
“My suitcase!” Jace exclaimed, a panicked look on his face as someone outside bellowed. “Who left their fucking suitcase in the middle of the hall?” 
You couldn’t hold back your laughter at the sight of abject horror on Jace’s face as he rushed to the door to apologise to whatever poor soul had tripped over his suitcase. 
Best Christmas you could ever ask for.
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let me know if you wish to be added to a general taglist for jace related works, or just my works in general in the comments or through this form! :) 
thank you for reading! if you liked it, likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! merry late xmas guys 😘🎄
179 notes · View notes
multi-fandomedfreak · 6 months
Note
I loovveeee your Connor headcannons!! Soooo.. maybe Connor introducing us to Hank and his Jericho friends like all cutesy. He would be so nervous but I just love himmmm. I am obsessed with the 'meeting their family' trope till I dieeeee
:)
Authors note: This is such a cute request I’m in loovveee
Paring(s): Connor x Reader
⚠️ Warnings ⚠️ : noneee
🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙
-Connor is suuuper nervous
-Even though it was 100% his idea to introduce you to Hank and his Jericho friends
-But most definitely not because he’s ashamed of you or anything
-Poor dudes just nervous that the tension between humans and androids would still be there
-Plus he’d never forgive himself if he got someone he cared about hurt (whether that he u or his friends)
-But all it takes is a reassuring squeeze of your hand and suddenly the unease he was feeling subsided enough for him to go through with it
-With Hank it was easy introducing you
-He obviously had that gruff exterior to him but he took a liking to you almost immediately
-To be honest Hank and you hung out more that day than you did with Connor
-He was kinda watching with a mixture of being offended and content (Connor: 🥲&☺️)
-(Hank may or may not have started calling u his daughter-in-law ((as a joke))…maybe)
-After that Connors more at ease when he introduces you to his Jericho buddies
-Markus, who’s usually so calm and collected, is actually struggling to contain his joy from the thought of a human-Android relationship
-Markus and u are besties now
-Connor, probably: Why’s everyone stealing her 🥲🥲
-After introducing you to Simon and Josh, Connor starts to wonder why he was ever hesitant to introduce you in the first place
-Well…at least until North comes along
-Don’t get me wrong, North doesn’t hurt nor insult you in anyway
-Her trust just takes a little more effort to earn and for good reason
-Connor was really starting to worry it might be a problem since she didn’t seem to approve of you
-but little did he know you made plans to hang out with her next week after a while of talking with her lol
-And even though it was ur irresistible y/n charm that made his friends like you
-It was also because Connor could. not. shut. up. about you
-Before any of this he was already hyping you up and talking about you any chance he got
-So it was a team effort really lol
-By the end of the day, both of your guys’ social battery’s were drained (Connors literal battery too) I think I’m so funny
-So ya’ll just plopped down together in your shared bed and cuddled till you fell asleep
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billthedrake · 9 months
Text
BACK IN THE GAME
"Damn, bro... you got magic hands."
Kent Green said it as a joke, but it was true. His best friend Bryan knew how to give a fucking neck message. And after going hard on shoulders at the gym, his buddy's strong fingers were working out the knot just right.
"I must be doing something right, bro. You're getting a fucking boner."
Kent blushed. He was close with Bry, but over the last half a year had gotten closer. He still had a lot of hang ups, though. "Sorry, man."
"Don't be sorry," Bryan said. His voice was crazy deep, deeper than Kent's still frat-bro affect. That baritone also fed his boner. "I like getting you hard, man." Those fingers were working deeper into Kent's traps now. "When was the last time you got laid?"
"You mean besides us fooling around?"
"Yeah, bro. Besides that."
Kent let out a sigh. "Fuck, Bryan. Too long. Ten, maybe eleven months?" He turned his head to look back. Bryan had a great body but was more regular looking, not a pretty boy. But the 25-year-old had a gruff handsomeness that grew on you. Kent tried not to crush out on his workout buddy and just enjoy the sex that happened when it happened. "I guess I'm a little messed up."
Bryan gave him a wry smile and removed his hands, patting the platelike pecs of Kent's chest. Kent had a leaner, taller build than Bryan but the dude's muscle was harder, more compact even. Bry sometimes teased his bud for being the golden boy - blond, college educated, from a well-off background. They were polar opposites in a lot of ways but had bonded at the serious bro gym they went to. Working out together, even cycling together.
"Not messed up, dude," Bryan assured him. "I just hate to see a dude like you blue balled."
Kent laughed. He leaned into Bryan's warm, muscular body. He had a good feeling sex was gonna happen. Post-workout sex, which was the best kind. But neither man was rushing it. "What about you, bro? You getting laid."
"Yup," came that deep voice. Then with hesitation, Bryan added, "I gotta boyfriend, actually."
That made Kent's body tense. They'd never talked about being gay. Kent, for the record, wasn't or at least didn't think of himself that way. He'd compartmentalized the fucking around with Bryan, too. Now his friend was putting it all out there.
"That's cool," he said softly.
"Am I weirding you out, bro?" Bryan asked. That bariton almost scratchy soft in its question.
"A little. But not really," Kent said. The spell had been broken, though, he scooted up away from Bryan, turning to face forward on the couch. He still had the erection his buddy's hands had given him, but that wasn't going down fast. "Sorry, man," he started. "I'm a little messed up in the head."
Bryan grimaced and nodded. "I guess I'm not the best at respecting the bro code," he said with a self-deprecating laugh. He settled back into his previous seating position, from before he offered the neck massage. But Kent could see that telltale thick rod poking up Bry's workout shorts, too.
Kent wished he didn't feel the sexual attraction he did. "So... who is this guy?"
"His name's Chris," Bryan said. Bashful as he spoke, but it was weird for Kent to see an almost kidlike glee in that gruff dude face as Bryan described his love interest. "He's kind of a normal dude, not a muscle guy like us... we've been going out for a couple months now."
That surprised Kent. "What the fuck? For real?" Then, "does he know about... you know..." he gestured between him and Bry.
Bryan nodded. "Not specifically, but he knows I play around. He does too when he travels."
"That's cool," Kent said. He felt dumb, and wondered if gay dudes were always easygoing like that.
The two sat on the sofa, a little awkward but that sexual chemistry not yet gone as their eye contact grew heavier.
"Bro..." Bryan started. "You wanna fool around? Like I say, Chris is cool with it. He's probably nailing some dude in a hotel room in Miami right now," he added with a chuckle.
Kent thought for a second. The gay thing added a layer of doubt to all of this, but at the end of the day this was still Bryan. He knew they could have fun and still be buds after. He gave a nod and shot Bryan a grin. "If you're up for it, bro... yeah, I'm pretty hard up right now."
"Hell yeah you are," Bryan grinned as he stood up off the couch, his boner pretty hard. He peeled off his workout shirt and involuntarily flexed a little as he tossed it aside. He was on a gaining cycle, as was Kent, but his beefy genes made the bulk that much bigger and more vascular looking.
Kent took in the vision and decided if he was gonna be gay for a dude, this was the kind of man he was into. A muscle guy like him. Even bigger than him. He stood up and followed suit, and by the time his shirt cleared his head, Bryan's hands were on his chest, lightly dusted with blond fur.
"You decided to stop shaving," Bryan observed, his fingers exploring the striated muscle be beneath the soft hair.
"Yeah," Kent chuckled. "Too much fucking work."
Bryan looked up from the chest and into Kent's eyes. His own brown eyes playful and a smile forming on that gruff face. "You think you could help me out this weekend? Chris likes me smooth."
This was weird as fuck, Kent thought, but he was strangely turned on. "Yeah, bro," he said. And like that the two buddies were lip locked. And Kent was now openly feeling up that magnificent bulking bod. Indeed he could feel the bristle short chest hairs starting to come in, and he imagined all that Bryan Walker beef shaved baby smooth...
"Let's take it to the bedroom, bro," Bryan hissed, reaching down to cup his buddy's erection for a second before stepping back and leading the way.
It had been a couple of months since they'd done this. Usually it was a quick BJ swap. But Kent felt a thrill as he watched that bulked up back and that meaty ass, evident beneath the gym shorts even. And fuck, even Bry's hamstrings and calved were off the charts. An inspiration.
The two twenty-something men were horny but they took their time. Getting naked, embracing on Bryan's queen sized bed, rolling around, making out. For all of Kent's hang ups, he'd never balked at the kissing part. Maybe because it was hard wired to his dick. Or maybe because he liked the way it just felt different kissing a man than a woman. Even when Bryan shaved, the dude had a lot of stubble.
Bryan Walker had fucked Kent, twice. It was OK, Kent guessed, but decided he liked it better the other way, and once Bry had made it clear he wasn't keeping score, that it wasn't tit for tat, it became a regular thing that Kent would do the plowing, and Bryan would give up his muscle ass for his buddy.
This was how it was gonna play tonight. Bryan leaning back, relaxed, legs spread wide as he let Kent lube and finger him good. Nice and slow, both men enjoying the foreplay.
"I'm glad you told me, bro," Kent said as three fingers were now buried inside his friend's snug ass. "About Chris."
"I shoulda before," he said. "Was too fucking chicken." He gave Kent a nod that he was good to go. This is how buddy sex often was. Two dudes free to talk while they boned each other.
Kent wiped the excess lube on his hard cock, a nice 7-incher that seemed just big enough to make Bryan know he was getting fucked good, without being too much a challenge. He scooted into the saddle and whacked his hardon against that wide-spread crack. Bryan fucking shaved down there, too, though his manscaping had been neglected long enough for the dark hairs to grow back.
"Hope you don't think I'm ass about things." He watched the connecting point of that puckered hole and his dick. Kent didn't realize before, maybe was too dumb, but Bryan Walker got fucked a decent bit. He was tight, but the ring was crinkled in a way that showed regular use. Rather than be a turn off, it excited Kent and he nudged his wet cut cock against the folds. He looked up at Bry. "I guess I should ask... you completely gay, bro?"
Bryan nodded. God his buddy's dick felt good, right in that spot. "Yeah, bro. I guess I lied when it came to chicks."
"I didn't," Kent said. Not judgmental, but clearing the air. "I just don't know how to put in the work anymore when it comes to women."
Bryan looked up at Kent with brotherly concern. He never knew how this golden boy could have a problem on the dating market. Kent was a total stud, a cute fucker, and he didn't act like a douche. "You just got off your game, bro," he said, reaching up with one hand to caress the bare chest and ab muscle. "We'll get you back."
Kent nodded in thanks. He contracted his core and let his hips move forward. And like that he was sinking into Bryan's warm body.
"Aw fuck yeah..." Bryan hissed. That deep voice was excited, and Kent wondered how much Bryan played up liking a cock inside him. Just hearing that thrill in Bry's voice was driving Kent to push in further... another inch, then another, and all the fucking way in.
"Oh God, you're fucking big, bro!" Bryan gasped.
"Too much?" Kent asked, checking in.
"Fuck no. Fuck me, man."
Kent did. He leaned forward and started a slow, steady fuck, then increased his pace. His cock was boning Bry deep and good soon.
Bryan's mouth was slack, halfway between a smile and a leer. His brown eyes met Kent's green one in a hungry gaze. "Fuck yeah... go for it buddy."
Kent really had hoped to make this about Bryan. He felt he owed it to his friend. But this all felt too good. The tight sensations around his cock, the feeling of all that bulking muscle beneath him, that connection and love he had for his best bud. And maybe this is why Kent didn't have a steady girlfriend. Not matter what head games he tried he could never last more than a minute.
He wasn't gonne break the minute mark now, either. "Shit!" he hissed. Orgasm was hitting quick and hard. Like lightning.
"Get it bro!" Bryan urged. "Get that fucking nut, man."
Did Kent get it, all right. The sweet goofy ex-frat boy tossed his head back and let out a loud and surprisingly loud cry. "Fuck! FUCK FUCK!" Kent yelled as he came deep in Bryan's hole, his thrusts nearly stopping to lock his hips in place to deliver his seed, with just small mini pumps of his dick along the inner walls of Bryan's ass.
Once he finished cumming he let his body relax and his forehead come down to rest on Bry's "God, man, that was incredible." Kent gave Bryan a soft kiss then pulled back. "Sorry I couldn't last longer," he said.
Bryan grinned but was mostly horny as fuck now. "It's all good man.... I like seeing you turned on." He looked down between their bodies at his own hardon. "You ready to suck me off, buddy?"
This was their arrangement. Kent fucked. And after, he serviced Bry orally. Kent slowly pulled out and then got in place, kneeling between Bryan's spread legs. One hand caressing Bryan's shaved ballsac while the other went to the ass to prod that cummy hole with a finger or two while Kent sucked.
Kent Green wasn't an expert cocksucker but he was pretty good for a mostly straight dude. He knew what would get his bud off and he went for it. Steady, quick bobs focusing on the top three or four inches. Pretty quick he felt the warmth and tasted the brininess of Bryan's hot seed. Unlike Kent, Bryan was a quiet cummer, but the soft caresses of Bryan's fingers in Kent's blond hair was the guy's way of showing appreciation.
The two men lay in silence next to one another for a minute. Between the gym and the sex Kent was tired and relaxed. He could almost fall asleep right there in Bryan's bed. But that was a line he didn't feel like crossing at this point.
He looked over at Bryan. Happy he could have the experience he just had and still be friends. "So... tell me about this Chris guy."
Bryan got a coy smile on his face. "You sure, man?" he asked.
"Dude... he's your fucking boyfriend. Of course I wanna know," Kent replied.
"Well, he's older, divorced... an airline pilot, actually."
"Yeah?"
Bryan grinned. "Yeah. It's definitely fucking hot... kind of a bucket list thing for me actually... to bang a pilot. It just turned out to be more than a one-time thing."
"That's cool, bro," Kent said, turning on his side to face Bryan. They'd done this before, talking man to man in bed after sex, only it had been Kent filling Bryan in about some hot date he had. "Um, how much older is he?"
Bryan paused. "A lot older. You might thing I'm weird, bro. But we kinda do the daddy-son thing."
Kent laughed. He'd been a connoisseur of "stepmom" porn and had enjoyed a few encounters with cougars, so the idea didn't seem so far fetched. But it was wild to hear it from the other side. "For real, bro?"
Bryan laughed nervously. "For real. Dude's 51 and pushes my buttons big time. Gray hair, dad bod the whole works."
"You're a man of surprises, Walker," Kent said, plopping back on the mattress and resting his head on the pillow.
"I guess," came the deep voiced reply.
Kent felt his eyes get heavy.
"Bro..." Bryan said. "If you wanna crash here, that's cool."
Already Kent's eyes were closing. "Yeah?" He could feel the bed shift beside him. Bryan was getting up. To shower off, or maybe just to brush his teeth. Kent should probably get up the energy to get back home himself. But it had been a long day. Just another minute....
Bryan got back in beneath the sheets and looked over Kent. He used to resent how fucking good looking his buddy was. Roman nose, rosy cheeks, blond hair, not thinning like Bryan's. Kent was tall, athletic, and cute in an easygoing masculine way, and Bryan had spent a solid year being jealous of a lot of things about Kent Green until he decided it was better just to be happy for the friendship. Everthing else... the sex, the intimate time like this, was just a bonus.
"We'll get you back in the game, buddy," Bryan said aloud.
But Kent didn't hear. He was already sleep.
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fluentmoviequoter · 2 months
Text
Do Something!
Requested Here!
Pairing: Jim Street x fem!reader (works an LAPD desk job)
Summary: 20-David is tired of watching you and Street pretend not to be in love with each other, too oblivious to realize your feelings are reciprocated. When you distance yourself from Street, they have to encourage him to do something.
Warnings: brief angst, vague mentions of insecurity, fluff, comfort at the end
Word Count: 2.3k+ words
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When you transferred to work a desk job in LAPD SWAT, mostly comprised of completing paperwork and applying for grants and government funding, you were warned of several things. Those warnings, focused on the officers' high-pressure lifestyles and gruff exteriors, did not mention how easy it would be to fall for one of them.
The moment you met Jim Street, he captured your entire attention. Several months into your new job, you have fallen in love with him. He is a SWAT officer, incredibly handsome, and absolutely out of your league. So, you’ve decided to watch him from a distance, do what you can to help him, and hope your feelings pass like a high school crush. Unfortunately, falling in love with someone isn’t as easy to move on from.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Hondo,” Hicks calls from his office doorway. “We need two accounts of yesterday’s raid for the paperwork. They’re waiting for it.”
“I’ll go,” Street volunteers.
“You want to do paperwork?” Hicks asks.
“No, he wants to see the girl who submits it,” Luca answers. “He’s in love with her but won’t admit it.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Street argues.
“Which part?”
“Uh, the love part. I don’t even know her.”
“Street, kid, you don’t have to know someone to fall for them,” Deacon says, patting Street’s shoulder. “But I’ll give the other account and then get out of your way.”
“Hey, try to pick up some courage on the way!” Luca calls after Street.
“You could always just tell her you like her, ask her out, send her a letter, whatever you do,” Deacon reminds Street.
“She doesn’t feel the same,” Street laments.
Deacon shakes his head, wondering what he did to have to deal with not one but two oblivious idiots who are in love with each other but won’t admit it.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Hi, Sergeant Kay, Officer Street,” you greet. “This should be quick.”
Deacon knows the drill, and you type while he tells you what happened. When he concludes, you print it and pass it to him for proofreading and his signature. Carrying through on his promise to Street, Deacon leaves as soon as he’s done, praying that something happens while you’re alone in the office.
“Alright, your turn, Officer Street.”
“You can just call me Street,” he offers.
“Okay, Street. Just start talking whenever you’re ready. Tell me everything you remember.”
As you did with Deacon, you type quickly, keeping your eyes on the screen so you don’t get distracted by Street sitting across the desk. After you print the report, you sit back and watch him read it. You must avoid daydreaming, and luckily, Jim passes the paper back to you before you can begin.
“Thank you,” you say, inhaling deeply when your fingers brush his.
“Need anything else from me?”
Everything, you think, yet you say, “That’s it for now. Thank you for coming so quickly. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to return the favor.”
Street pauses as he stands, and for a moment, you have a glimmer of hope that something will happen, but then he says, “Thanks,” and walks out of the door.
Sighing, you slouch in your chair and take a few breaths before returning to your duties.
✯✯✯✯✯
Street and Luca are sparring, and Luca barely misses Street’s face when he suddenly drops the punching pad.
“Whoa, dude, what the heck was that?” Luca exclaims.
Street is looking over his shoulder, so Luca turns quickly, shaking his head when he sees what made Street speechless and immobile. You’re standing with Hicks, dressed in one of your nicest outfits. Street overheard you mention something about a proposal meeting, but he didn’t consider how beautiful you would look for it. Granted, he thinks you’re always beautiful, but his mind wanders to how you’d look on a date with him, and he distantly acknowledges that he is a goner.
“Are you going to stand there and drool over her or so something?” Luca asks.
“What?” Street asks, snapping his mouth closed as he turns to Luca.
“Just ask her out, man, she clearly-“
“Is out of my league. I’m not going to ruin the little bit of friendship we have.”
“So you finally admit you like her.”
“No. I just see her a lot, I guess.”
“You guess,” Luca repeats sarcastically. “You’re an idiot, Streeter.”
Street doesn’t argue, and Luca considers actually punching him in the head to knock some sense into him.
✯✯✯✯✯
When you return from the proposal, you are in a great mood because the private investors love your ideas and feel empowered to do something bold. As soon as you enter SWAT HQ, you begin looking for Street. The worst case scenario is he says no and never wants to see you again, which would be terrible, but you’re hoping for the best: a yes.
Hearing Street’s voice outside the situation room, you smile and round the last corner. Street is talking to Molly Hicks, though, and you freeze, letting your smile fall. Street laughs at something she said, her voice quiet enough that you can’t hear. As Street reaches up to grasp her forearm while he replies in a whisper, you realize that you misread everything you thought was a signal.
Rushing to your office, you close the door and lay your head on your desk. You thought Street liked you, too, and that’s why he was a little awkward and different around you. But, no, he chose Molly. And why wouldn’t he? She’s probably better for him than you ever could be.
Your computer chimes with an incoming email, and you brush your hands over your forehead and the top of your hair before burying yourself in paperwork. On any other day, you would procrastinate finishing the more involved forms. Today, you blow through them quickly, desperate to keep your mind off Street and maintain the distance you’ve put between you. If he likes Molly, who are you to get in the way of that?
✯✯✯✯✯
“Molly, Street, to what do I owe this… pleasure-adjacent incident?” Hicks asks.
“Dad,” Molly chides.
“Sorry. What do you want? And, Street, if you tell me you’re dating my daughter-“
“Oh, no, sir,” Street interjects. “We tried once and… we’re good.”
Hicks raises his hands in a request for someone to tell him what’s going on.
“Fine, I’ll ask,” Molly says. “Can SWAT officers date other LAPD employees?”
“Depends on the person, their departments, histories.” He looks over to Street to add, “For example, a SWAT officer and a, let’s say, grant writer and secretarial employee, would be able to have a relationship. The officer just may have to give action reports to a different employee to complete the paperwork without bias.”
“Oddly specific example,” Street jokes. “But I still think this is a terrible idea.”
Molly rolls her eyes. “Jim here thinks that his feelings aren’t reciprocated.”
“You’re kidding me, right? I didn’t think you were this oblivious.”
“Rude, sir,” Street argues.
“I called him an idiot,” Molly adds.
“Yeah, that fits, too,” Hicks agrees.
“This isn’t really helping my confidence level, guys.”
“I’m sure your ego can take it.”
✯✯✯✯✯
You usually leave around the same time as Street, but after waiting for five minutes and seeing no sign of you, Street walks out alone. Inside your office, you’re putting the finishing touches on a report, glad to work a few minutes longer to avoid Street. He may not talk to you much outside of work, but he’s incredibly perceptive and would probably catch on and ask what’s wrong.
Truthfully, you want to move on from Street, want him to be happy no matter who he is with, but you refuse to let him go, though you never really had him. 
Street’s motorcycle is gone when you exit, and you sigh, realizing it will be a long few weeks of avoiding him while your heart heals. If your heart heals.
✯✯✯✯✯
Walking toward your office, you turn when you see Street. It’s been three days since you last saw him, more than that since you talked, but seeing him still makes you feel something. Not only the heartbreak of knowing he chose Molly but the initial happiness stemming from the joy of falling in love with him.
Luca walks by, stopping and taking a few steps backward as he realizes you’re hiding in a doorway. He sees Street down the hall and pieces everything together.
“What’d he do?” Luca asks.
“What did who do?” you reply.
“Street.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It’s like dealing with middle schoolers,” Luca huffs as he walks away.
When you peek around the corner, Street is gone, and you rush to your office and close the door behind you.
✯✯✯✯✯
The path to Hicks’ office goes straight past the man you’re trying to avoid, but you have time-sensitive documents to deliver. Steeling your nerves and straightening your shoulders, you walk straight to Hicks’ office without looking for anyone in particular.
After you enter the office, Street watches the door. Hondo asks a question, but Street can only focus on you and why he can’t seem to spend any time with you recently, never seeing you for more than a few seconds at a time.
“Street!” Hondo yells, finally getting his attention.
The office door opens, and Street immediately looks away again.
“Oh my- Street, just do something!” Luca exclaims, pushing him forward. 
“Like what? She clearly doesn’t like me! She won’t even look at me! You want me to tell her I love her when the most time I’ve ever spent with her alone was to finish paperwork! That’ll go well, Luca, thanks so much for the great advice.”
You clear your throat behind Street, and when he looks at you, you gesture toward your office. Street follows wordlessly, assuming this is the beginning of being let down slowly. You, however, are doing everything you can to hide your smile. It sounded like he was talking about you, and that’s all the hope you need to put yourself out of your misery. A bad answer is still an answer, and right now, closure sounds better than another sleepless night wondering why you’re not good enough.
✯✯✯✯✯
“So,” Street begins, leaning against your desk.
“Were you talking about me?” you ask, getting straight to the point. “Let’s stop dancing around whatever this is between us, okay?”
“Yeah, I was talking about you,” he confesses. “I’ve had feelings for you for a while, but I thought you didn’t feel the same.”
“What kind of feelings?”
“I- I think I’m falling in love with you. I’ve never felt this before, but I like it.”
“What about Molly? I saw you laughing with her, and-“
“Have you been avoiding me because of that?” Street interjects, realizing that the morning before he talked to Molly was the last time he saw you.
“Yes,” you whisper. “Because you looked happy, and I didn’t- I couldn’t deal with losing you if I was still seeing you.”
“Losing me?”
“I assumed you were with Molly. You said you thought you were falling for me, but I know that I am in love with you. Seeing you happy with someone else while I was too scared to tell you how I feel hurt.”
“Molly was telling me that I was stupid for not telling you,” Street explains, his usual personality beginning to shine through the awkward nervousness.
“Now what?”
“Hicks said we be in a relationship.” You furrow your brows, and Jim clarifies, “It’s not against the rules for us to date, I just have to finds someone else to do my paperwork.”
“Do you want to be in a relationship with me?”
Street notices a shadow hovering outside the door before another joins. He motions for you to be play along, taking your hand as he answers, “No, that’s not what I want.”
You follow his eyes, smiling when you realize someone is listening in.
“Okay,” you answer sadly, interlacing your fingers with his. “Then why’d you say all that?”
“I was confused. We’re- we’re never going to work as more than friends.”
✯✯✯✯✯
“What is happening?” Luca asks.
“This can’t be right,” Hicks answers. “They’ve both been acting like different people and now they’re not going to do anything?”
Hondo moves against the door and can’t stop it before it opens, and Luca topples inside. When he looks up, Street is sitting on your desk, and you’re standing between his legs, his arms around your waist, and your hands pushed in his hair.
“Did you pretend to break up and then start making out?” Luca asks, rolling his shoulder as he stands. “That’s messed up, man.”
“So is eavesdropping,” Street deadpans.
“No more longing looks or hiding in hallways?” Hondo asks. “You’re all good?”
“Better than good,” you answer, smiling at Street.
“Bye,” Street adds, his attention back on you. “Close the door and get away from it on your way out.”
Luca wants to ask for more information about why you hid from Street, having missed the part about Molly, but decides to ask later when he sees you leaning in again.
After the door closes, you hear Hicks inquire, “Did we make a mistake?”
“A big one. They’re going to be inseparable and intolerable,” Hondo answers.
“I think they’re pretty cute together,” Luca says.
“Me too,” Street mumbles against your lips, holding you close so you don’t slip away again.
This moment and the idea of a future being happy with Street is worth everything, you decide. The sadness and long nights have made room for a love you didn’t know existed.
“Still think you’re falling for me?” you tease.
“I may need more information before I update my claim,” Street replies, smiling lazily as he cups the back of your neck to bring you in again.
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cosmic-metanoia · 4 months
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Masculinity Concepts in FFXVI
***Spoilers for Final Fantasy 16***
I wanted to focus on the concept of masculinity in Final Fantasy XVI.
I really love how we see different aspects of masculinity portrayed in the characters. I won't go over every male character in the game but I'll mostly focus on the Dominants along with some side characters.
*Clive - I have a whole character analysis post dedicated to him but to highlight a couple points - he has many wonderful qualities that make him very admirable not just as a man but as a person. Despite his handsome looks that we all know and love, he has a surprising softness inside him and wears his emotions on his sleeve at times especially when it comes to Jill. We see moments when he bares his soul and weeps out of sorrow or joy which makes him more masculine, in my opinion, not less.
*Joshua - His masculinity is incredibly refreshing as it is the complete opposite of toxic masculinity. His face has soft and almost feminine-like features. He may have spent his young life being physically frail but he demonstrates a fiery strong spirit. He has this honest chivalry to him yet views everyone as equals and has a gift for poetic words as a result his study of books. He is merciful and incredibly kind but is unafraid to demonstrate his prowess on the battlefield like his older brother.
*Cid - Now this guy is your classic smokin' cowboy archetype but with MUCH better attitude. He oozes masculine charm, wit, and charisma but he uses it for the betterment of society and to persuade others to join his revolutionary cause. But his motives are candid and straightforward. I love how he didn't exist just to flirt, be eye candy, or simply be the comic relief. He becomes the mentor whose legacy lives on through Clive and bonds the hideaway folks into a real family.
*Dion - He IS the reason why Sanbreque was able to tip the scales to its favor - because he is the powerful Dominant of Bahamut. He is the prince but he climbed the ranks and earned the respect of his elite dragoons. He exudes military spirit and possesses a flair for political language as a future leader yet has a sense of honor and duty to his people. And along with that I can bring up Terence who is also a military man and climbed the ranks to be by Dion's side. Their love for each other is tender and beautiful and perceived as just another aspect of themselves.
*Kupka - Now this guy is your typical gym bro and is quite the buffoon (I cracked up when Sleipnir says something like "seems Hugo's head was filled with rocks afterall.) He gives the strong impression that he does not respect women (ahem, that servant he kicked) with the exception of Benedikta who could care less about him. Kupka is your stereotypical toxic masculine type.
*Barnabas - Another villain who uses his masculine aura to dominate and overpower. Even when it came to the intimate scene with Benedikta, he certainly gives the impression that carnal pleasure is just a means to an end. Benedikta knew immediately that he'd throw her away as soon as she lost her use to him. Also... I mean...the dude carries a huge sword like he's trying to make a statement LOL!
In terms of side characters, we see that even the hardened Blackthorne is encouraged to open up his feelings which (through many side quests) he is eventfully able to do and make peace with his past. We see the rugged Otto and his eyes brimming with tears when speaking about the late Cid or about the Bearer son he lost. We see Goetz as the gentle giant who is working on his own self-confidence. We also see Gav who gets emotional after a few kegs of ale and cares deeply about Edda and her baby. And even Uncle Byron who shows his sense of power through his financial generosity but loves to put on a good show (he would be quite the actor in Shakespeare theater!)
There are many male characters that I missed but I wanted to focus on a handful of characters. We're so used to seeing the typical battle-hardened and gruff heroes that eventually claim victory over their enemies and get the girl. It's nice to have a story where you have men with different pasts and drives that pull them forward to their futures.
I will also (hopefully soon) write about the female characters as well! :)
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gremlins-hotel · 4 months
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I’ve seen a vision and need to expel it from my mind:
Alfred smooching the surface of Ivan’s space helmet because he thought it would be cute.
Ivan just watching Al squish his face against the glass and slobber all over it.
i am feeling nice today. haven't written anything in a while, nor drawn. i hope it's at least funny if not somewhat entertaining. now i go hang up my laundry,,,
“Dude, I can’t believe you still have that!” exclaimed Alfred, looking his buddy up and down. “And that they were actually willing to make a suit that fits you, Christ. Or let you keep it. How old is it now?”
Ignoring Alfred, Ivan twisted to observe the old spaceflight uniform he wore. It hugged a little too tightly in places but still, he had managed to squeeze the old suit on without it complaining too much. With a blink and a look up, he considered his response. “Trust you me, I am convinced I was only allowed to keep the suit because no one else could dream of wearing it comfortably, not even for training. It is an early Sokol, so the seventies. I, ah…do not remember the exact year.”
“Damn, a pity,” Alfred nodded, “no spacewalks for you then. Not in that at least.” Unafraid, he walked up to the giant and circled him, observing the hose-like sleeves and mission patches across the body. A red-and-blue Apollo-Soyuz patch stood out against Ivan’s stomach. It earned a laugh from Alfred; he remembered that joint mission well. He also remembered having to shake hands with Ivan. It wasn’t their first and wouldn’t be their last, and at least the two of them had always agreed on one thing: the stars were for the discovery of all mankind, though of course, neither of them was man.
The bear shook his head, following the other Nation’s stare, “No, it is like your Shuttle suits. For the spacecraft only, yes. We had others for spacewalks like the Orlan.”
“Oh yeah, I remember,” came the confident reply.
“And here I was under the insinuation that you didn’t. Not that I would be surprised, you’re like a dog in this regard.” Ivan gave a gruff snap of laughter and lifted a hand to ruffle jokingly at Alfred’s hair like a golden retriever. His hands were quickly smacked away with a roll of the smaller man’s eyes. Black gloves were taken into curious hands and turned over, the ridges of the knuckles poked and prodded. Snatching his hand away, Ivan observed the glove too, “This thing is starting to get hot. Anything else?”
Alfred’s eyes narrowed as he leaned back on his heels, crossing his arms. “Hmm…still got the helmet or no, big guy?”
“Podozhdite,” Ivan rumbled, making a quick face before shuffling to the old box he had dragged the suit from. Always the soft helmet had been his favorite part. When not in use, he could stuff the loose part against the visor and it’d be fine, as long as the visor itself wasn’t getting scratched. Squatting to rummage through the contents before him, he wondered at the helmet’s condition. The edges of blue anodized aluminum, dull with time, met his fingers and Ivan pulled with some relief, brushing the white canvas free of their stubborn fold.
Pulling the helmet over his head proved to be somewhat difficult, and Ivan remembered why he had shaved his beard when he had more regularly worn the equipment. At that the memory of Alfred trying to keep his face trained for their photographed handshake in 1975 was loud. Throughout the experiments, the other Nation hadn’t let him live down how “babyfaced” he appeared without it. Friends or enemies, it was true that they always knew how to dig deep and press each other’s buttons. Ivan had barely kept from slapping Alfred then, to tell him to be serious. But that would’ve been counterintuitive to the joint mission, as satisfying as it likely would’ve been.
Fumbling with the flange, it snapped into place with a satisfying sound. It was slightly uncomfortable without the soft under cap, but he’d be taking the suit off soon enough. Both hands were needed to shove the visor down on its aging hinges. From his crouch, Ivan turned his head and offered a half-assed salute, “Opa!”
Alfred’s form was dark through the visor and his snort muffled through the helmet’s canvas. “Don’t move.”
“What are you planning?” Ivan’s voice bounced back at him from the visor, but he hoped Alfred could still hear. The other Nation approached until only legs were in Ivan’s vision. He recoiled slightly to look up, “If you scratch this helmet I will make sure you regret it, Jones.”
“Don’t bellyache dumbass, I ain’t gonna hurt you. Not right now, at least. Now hold still,” said Alfred above him. Hands grabbed either side of Ivan’s head, pressing the PA6 nylon of the inside against his ears. Trying to jerk away from the contact, Ivan’s hands reached out to push at Alfred’s arms with a hiss. Sibilant air once more echoed back to his own senses. He could see Alfred leaning down toward his head. He frowned.
“What are you doing?”
“Oh come on, you’re like the only asshole I could do this with. It’ll be like a goddamn movie.” Alfred complained.
“No,” Ivan barked, “not unless you plan to die.”
“You’re fucking lame, Red,” Alfred sighed beyond Ivan’s visor. “Consider: I do this, and you can put me in a headlock after you get out of the Spandex.”
And Ivan did consider. “Bold words just to call me fat. It is your death warrant, not mine.”
“Yeah, yeah, so what do you say?”
“Fine.”
Through the dark visor, Ivan watched as Alfred continued to lean down. The hands holding his skull seemed to pull him up and the former cosmonaut jerked his chin higher to see better. Lips folded and approached the polycarbonate screen, pressing to it and crafting the same funny image as a hand plastered to glass. Actually, it was disgusting from inside the helmet.
Ivan could see the lines etched in the other man’s lips in too much detail, and he grimaced at realizing Alfred had purposefully made his kiss very wet. Tiny bubbles smashed against the hard material. It would leave a mark on the visor that Ivan immediately decided he would make the other astronaut clean. An awful kissy sound smacked his eardrums, muffled as it was, and the Nation thrashed his helmeted head away from his friend. Ivan made a retching sound in the back of his throat when his motion caused a slobbery smear across the visor.
Pulling away with that obnoxiously jovial laugh he had, Alfred’s face was cracked in mirth. He could see the giant’s contorted mouth, though his eyes were hidden beneath the polarized upper half of the visor. Still he firmly held his friend’s head, laughing the whole time. Ignoring the swearing behind the helm, Alfred threw his head back to snort and laugh harder when he heard a muffled ‘fucking dog’. He was dead the moment Ivan divested himself of the space suit, but half the fun would be kicking his ass.
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mythicalmyles · 1 year
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I love you for real dude, Jeff The Killer 🤭??
18+, thighriding, crossdressing.
Jeff smirked as he made the other ride his thigh, moans pouring from his mouth as his cock rubbed against Jeff’s leg. “Such a good boy.” He praised, hand moving from his thigh to his leg, snapping the garter belt squeezing the flesh. A whimper fell from (Name), body shaking slightly. “You look so pretty in this dress.” Jeff’s hand came back to run up his sides, squeezing the flesh. The maid dress was pretty short and tight on (Name) but he’d suspected that just made Jeff all the more happier. He’d been caught trying it on, Jeff breaking into his window. They’d both been surprised to see each other but Jeff was quick to pounce.
(Name) couldn’t help but bit his lip, the situation turning him on. He didn’t have any underwear on so Jeff was quick to pull his legs up, spreading him as one of his hands began prodding at his hole. (Name) was jumpy, not quite use to another touching him in such a place. Jeff pushed his fingers into (Names) mouth, sliding his digits around in his drool. (Name) let out the odd choked sound before Jeff pulled away, fingers moving back to his ass and pushing into his hole.
Whimpers left (Name) as two digits slid deep inside of him, pausing for a moment before sliding out and slamming back in. “A-ah!” (Name) choked out as Jeff’s fingers quickly fucked him, hitting deep inside and spreading him open. “Such a good boy, say my name.” Jeff grinned, fingers speeding up and pulling more moans from the other man.
“J-jeff!” (Name) moaned out, breathing laboured as he arched in Jeff’s lap, letting him hit deeper. “That’s gonna do.” He muttered, hands moving to his belt to yank it off. He looked at it and smirked. “Give me your hands.” Jeff’s smirked turned cat like when the other held them up, quick to tie the belt around them. A gulp cane from (Name) and Jeff almost giggled, undoing his fly and pulling out his hard cock. He spat on his own cock and lubed himself up, his free hand moving to (Names) hips to guide him down onto his cock. (Name) choked when he felt the head pressing against him, eyes doubling and worry filling his belly. He wondered if he could even take him, biting his lip as Jeff began pushing into him.
It took Jeff a minute before his head finally slid in, drawing some sobs from (Name). Jeff couldn’t help but eat it up, he knew he was a pretty good size. Jeff was surprisingly slow pulling (Name) down his cock, large hands plastered to his sides. Every inch drew a whimper, Jeff doing his best to ignore the urge to slam deep. Finally he had (Name) seated on his cock, twitching as he lay against Jeff’s chest while huffing and panting. “Doing so well.” Jeff’s gruff voice spoke, hands gently moving up and down his sides,
Once (Name) finally relaxed he thrusted, grinning at the surprised moan that left the other. “There we go.” Jeff chuckled as he began slamming (Name) down on his cock. “Taking it like such a good boy.”
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Yandere Alphabet: Nicolas Brown
Guys! Guys! This was so self-indulgent you wouldn´t believe it. I just, I just love that dude!! I mean go and take a look at him. He just everything! I love him so much! But the show - It´s "Gangsta." btw - never got that much attention, and yet I adore it so much!!
Nicolas Brown
He is someone that was always heavily ostracized, barely seen as human, and most of the time, the way people treat him also reflects that. Sometimes, he sees himself only as a rabid dog on a leash, because nothing else could justify how others interact with him. Get ready for some angst, because this man is riddled with trauma, and will definitely bring it with him.
Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?
One thing, he always manages to do, without fail, is to be close to you when you need him. It makes you wonder, if he just that attuned to you or that sensitive for when some ones mood is about to drop. You always hope, that it´s just the former, but know, that the latter probably already saved his life before. He can soothe your fears with ease. It doesn´t matter if he just standing a bit closer to you, his presence comforting you or if he gently touches your arm. Still, he gives you space when you need it. It what makes his presence never feel overbearing. His affection shows itself in the way, he pays attention to you. The way he tries to make you smile, and shoots one of his own crooked smiles back at you. His affection show itself in him being kind.
Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?
Even though Nicolas is on the smaller side, he is still able to draw an imposing figure. He also has a mean face, and he knows it. For him, it´s easy to chase people away. He know how to be intimidating, and he isn´t afraid to be as well. One thing, that will always be true, is that he will match the aggression level of the other person, if he won´t be worse than the other person. He won´t shy away from a little blood or a good fight. Sometimes he even enjoys it. He grew up as part of a mercenary group, he kills for a living nowadays. And quite frankly, it is Ergastulum. It´s almost expected in a place like this, from a guy like him.
Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?
No matter what happens, he will not mock his darling. Not for their tears, not for their fear either. Though, he is a bit clueless, why they are so suddenly afraid of him. It happened before with other people, sure, but he never expected them to be like this. Especially, because they already knew him from before. But he can be patient. He is willing to simply wait it out. There a quiet a few difficulties communicating, but nothing that can´t be figured out. It´s not like topics like these came up in conversations between you two before. He tries to be as kind as possible, because he doesn´t want to scare you further. Especially because there is no need for that. Though, he will be annoyed, when he is attacked by you. And because of his gruff nature, annoyance may quickly look like rage.
Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?
He is awfully familiar with how it feels to be treated like something lesser. Because of that, he will try his best to avoid these actions, these mistakes in getting your affection. Though there are still some things, that he deems too important to get your counsel on. He will lock you up. He will hide you away. Because he is afraid. He knows what kind of people he interacts with. There is no way, that you would be safe. He is afraid that someone would kill you. He doesn´t mind being out with you. But the thought of you being alone out there, is absolutely terrifying for him. Because of that he will teach you how to fight. It doesn´t matter to him, if you want to learn or not. He will make you. Also expect to learn how to sign. Because while he still understands most of what you´re saying, and he can still talk. Well, he likes sign more, and quietly frankly, that´s enough reason for him to teach you.
Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?
While he finds it incredibly difficult to open up to you, he still tries to. Sometimes, he has trouble expressing himself in a way, that you both will understand. He doesn´t know the words, and because he learned to sign so lately in life, it sometimes doesn´t feel quite right either. There will always be a language barrier between the two, even when both of you try their best to understand. In the end, he just wants to lean against you sometimes. Sitting close to you and holding your hand. Taking the same comfort in you, that you sometimes take from him.
Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?
If he is to be honest, he is disappointed by your reaction, but also never expected anything different either. Though he does get annoyed by your continued aggression towards him. It´s not like you did that before, so he doesn´t understand why you´re fighting him on everything now. Over time he will get short and kind of snappy with you, because he just can´t stand it, that you seem to suddenly fight him over everything. He expects it at this point, yes, but is doesn´t mean that he becomes suddenly okay with it.
Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?
This could never be a game for him. He will break with the knowledge, that you try so hard to get away from him. It destroys him. He tries so hard to make it good for you, and to see it all so quickly disregarded, hurts him deeply. Even with all of his sharp edges, he tries to be soft with you. He breaks down before you, apologizing to you, over and over again. Please, never try something like this again.
Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?
Probably, the one time he couldn´t shield you from his reality. When he couldn´t hide you any more, from the bloody desperation he comes from. When he couldn´t keep you away from the truth any more, from his fate, that would haunt him till the end of the time. When it slipped his notice, when he was telling you about his weakest points in his life. About that time, where society had beaten it into him that he can never defend himself. The realization of it all, the recognition of his behaviour, hurts more than anything else.
Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?
He knows, that he already is living on borrowed time. His days are counted, and he doesn´t has much more in him. Add to that his constant abuse of Celebre, and he has a situation on his hands were the chances of his continued survival grow slimmer each day. One day the constant overdoses might actually kill him. He knows all of that. He knows. Because of that, maybe even in spite of it, he only wishes for a bit of peace with you. He greets every day, as if it might be his last, because for him, it very well might be.
Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?
While he does get jealous, and that very easily on top of that, he doesn´t lash out. A lot. He has a bit of self-control, but him losing it in a jealous fit, might be dangerous to the people he loves. Because of that, he tends to internalize most of his emotions, only to let them run freely, when he actually gets into a fight. And when he fights it gets ugly quickly. Usually though, he will still shout something, that will make it clear, that the two of you belong together. Pulling them closer towards himself.
Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?
Nicolas around his darling is gentle and quiet. He is nonintrusive, and generally finds ways to organically introduce himself into your life. In the end, he never tries to insert himself in any aggressive way. It almost seems like you met him someday, and he became a really good friend over some time. Most of the time, it´s quite obvious, that Nicolas seems to enjoy your attention. Or rather, that he enjoys your company.
Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?
He is someone, that watches from a far. He acts like a shadow, that can´t be quite shaken off. Persistent and focused. Sometimes, you can see him in your peripheral but never directly. This can be quite unnerving. In the end it will be Worick, that has to introduce Nicolas to you. After that, Nicolas tends to flirt with you, though with his face you can never quite tell if he truly means it. Somewhere in the distance though, you´re sure you heard how Worick let out a little despaired filled sigh.
Mask: Are their true colours drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?
He tends to be a lot more closed off in public. A permanent scowl etched onto his features. He is quick to become snappy and easier to bring to rage. At home, or rather around his few loved ones, he becomes quieter. He seems to loose his sharp edges, as he becomes softer. Gentle and kind. In general it´s very easy to see how the stress seems to leave him, as soon as he steps into a safe space. How his face relaxes and his posture slums. As soon as he comes home, he steps out of his constant defensive stance. The hard shell falls away to reveal a bleeding heart.
Naughty: How would they punish their darling?
Nicolas isn´t really a fan on the whole punishing thing. While he tends to get a little snappy, when you annoyed him for long enough, he never outright does something to you. He becomes a bit shorter with you than usual. When he is angry at you, he tends to show you the cold shoulder, leaving the room, shorter answers than usual. The distance he keeps in that moment, is meant to keep you safe from him. He doesn´t want his temper to boil over at the wrong moment. He is very aware of the fact, that he could easily kill you and it wouldn´t even take any real effort for him. He will stay like this, till you apologize, but only for the very specific thing, that annoyed him. Only then he will be able to calm down again. Don´t worry, he will tell you what it was beforehand. He wants you to make it clear when something bothers you, and he will do the same.
Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?
He confines them out of what he perceives as necessity. No matter, where he goes, he´s bound to have enemies. Not only does he put himself into a dangerous situation with his job, but he is also a twilight. There a far too many people out there, who would come after them alone for that. The moment, he started to associate with them, their life was in danger. You may not know these things, but he does.
Patience: How patient are they with their darling?
Nicolas has the patience of a saint for this specific instance only. He can wait. Over time though, he will get anxious, because he knows, that his own time is running out. Still, he can´t bring himself to forcefully push things along with them. He enjoys how peaceful live can be, when he is with them. Just living for once. Not in a hurry.
Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?
No he will not move on. No matter what happens he is caught up on them. He would still search for them, not to be close again, just to see them. While what happened hurt him, he will still accept this very clear rejection for what it is. It´s not like he does have the time for falling in love again anyway. He would always still cling to them. Sooner rather than later you should expect a blond to knock at your door, that can´t stand to see his best friend moping around like this and a gun to your face, a threat spoken with a voice like silk and a charming grin to match. It never really was Nicolas one had to watch out for anyway. Not when it came to you.
Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?
There is one thing you should know. Be aware that his health is declining. It´s getting worse every day. His body is slowly deteriorating. There is no way he isn´t aware of that as well. It also becomes clear that, he will always suffer for you as you do. All of this means, that he would let you go in a heartbeat if this was truly what you wanted, but can´t bring himself to regret grasping at what little joy he has in the world. At least just for a moment longer.
Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?
Just one look at his life will lay the blame firmly in his childhood. His father wasn´t great by any means, and it really didn´t help, that he was treated like property. Still is, in some circles. Nothing Nicolas has ever experienced taught him a healthy outlook on anything. Love has always hurt him, so isn´t that what it´s supposed to do? He wouldn´t know a good coping mechanism if it bit him. Another factor is, that Worick is shameless in enabling him.
Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?
He doesn´t feel comfortable seeing his love wearing themself out like this. Somewhere, he thinks he can almost recognize himself in them, and it scares him. He knows, that these fits are a sign of your mental health declining, and he is helpless in watching it happen. Because of that, he will rope Worick in to help. His friend managed to help him, surely he will be able to help them as well. He doesn´t know what to do any more, and he is afraid of what might happen next.
Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?
Something different about him is that he absolutely aware of his own mortality. He is also very careful around his darling, because he can´t see himself treating them badly in any capacity. Another thing is, that he waits to pursue then in an unhealthy way, till he gets the confirmation from someone, that it would be okay. Nicolas absolutely gets encouraged by Worick half of the time.
Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?
He always wants what it best for them. No matter what. This is the only way out for you. Only if you keep playing from the angle how it would be so much better to apart from him, you can escape him, while he still lives. Another thing you should keep in mind is, that you will outlive him. Nicolas doesn´t has that much left, and he knows that the people he loves will outlive him.
Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?
With Nicolas it will be an accident, when his darling gets hurt. He really isn´t a fan of hurting them at all. Even would prefer if it never happened at all. Still, sometimes accidents will happen regardless of what everybody wants. Maybe you got targeted because of him or he underestimated his own strength. Regardless, he will feel guilty about it.
Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?
He likes his love quite a lot, and is most of time content to just watch you from the shadows for a long time. He doesn´t need to hang all over you all of the time. Small conversations are fine with him. Meeting every now and then, as long as can still see you. All is fine. It has to be fine. In the end it´s Worick who gives him a push. To finally act upon what he is feeling all of the time. He is trying. Oh, he tries so much.
Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?
He is quite capable of pining forever. Nothing you do will make him snap. He can wait. He can be patient. He can, painfully awkward the whole time, dance around the subject with you. Sometimes, he is even so good at it, that you won´t realize that you spent hours with him, even though you just met on the street. He snaps, only when he sees, that even though he is willing to stay away from you, people still come for you. When he unknowingly puts you in danger. It also doesn´t help, that Worick, also none the wiser, is enabling him at every opportunity. Reassuring Nicolas, that he indeed „deserve nice things in your life! Stop being such a stuck up, and get ´em, tiger!“, and will hide a body, or several, when it comes to his best friend.
Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?
People, especially his father, have tried to break Nicolas before. He would never inflict the same cruelties onto his darling. He wouldn´t even be able to do it. It would be too much for him. He strongly believes, that the ones he loves, should never have to experience the same pain, that he went through. He will always do his best, to shield them as good as he can. They should never have to bear the same scars. Not on their body. Not on their mind. Not on their soul. He will personally see to it, that it can never happen.
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seat-safety-switch · 1 year
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My local small hardware store was destroyed decades ago. An uncaring foreign mega-corporation swooped in and bought the whole chain. It turns out that when you buy a struggling small hardware store, it doesn’t suddenly become magically profitable because it now has your visionary leadership and MBA-driven artificial metaminds at the helm. So they did the next best thing to doing a good job, and started shutting down stores, including my own one.
As a teenager, this was particularly ill-timed. Now, rather than being able to ride my bicycle through the big field behind the church to get potato gun materials, I had to take the bus to go to the big chain store. And at the big chain store, they didn’t have Bob. Bob was an old dude who worked the front bench at the small hardware chain, and he had lived a lot of lives before he ended up stuck in the asshole of the universe, giving advice to suburbanite dads about what kind of nailgun to use to assemble a birdhouse kit.
I was afraid of Bob as a kid, mostly because of his gruff demeanour and general no-nonsense attitude. When I grew into a teenager, I was still a little afraid – but the desire for knowledge surpassed that. For that one summer I had him, I asked Bob about everything I could think of. House wiring codes. How an internal combustion engine worked. Who Faulkner was. Why he was hiding in our town, had obviously changed his name, and kept going on break whenever a neighbourhood cop came into the store. And then I bought a bunch of stuff, because that was what Bob was there for: to tell me to get the good shit, instead of the bad shit, because life was too short.
Once the store was sold, I never saw him again. It was as if his existence was inextricably bound to that of the store, a sort of forest fairy who was destroyed when the spell was broken by bylaw enforcement. In adulthood, I assume that he still lived in the general area and simply found a new job after the new owners pushed a background check (or tax withholding) upon him. Sometimes I wonder where he ended up; maybe he’s wandering around French hardware stores now, telling Gallic teenagers about the standards body behind Romex.
Would he be proud of the man I’d become? No: he was a dyed-in-the-wool Ford man, Bob was. And I don’t shoplift nearly enough from the big hardware store.
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be11atrixthestrange · 2 months
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The Loft 8
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After a bad break-up, Hermione Granger moves into a messy and dysfunctional loft with four single men. What starts as a temporary home until she gets back on her feet becomes so much more, as she learns there's a lot of life - and love - that happens at rock-bottom.
Inspired by the TV Series ‘New Girl’
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Also on A03 | FFN
More Chapters
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In a crazy turn of events, I updated The Loft after 2 years... :)
Chapter 8
A watched egg never cooks. Is that the saying? Ron doesn’t know — he’s terrible at idioms and shit. If it’s not a saying, it’s definitely accurate. 
He stands in front of the stove, waiting for his egg to fry. It’s taking forever, and he’s tempted to just leave it there, but maybe then he’d burn the whole loft down. That, or Vicky would eat it. 
Vicky’s here this morning, just like he was here yesterday morning. And the morning before that. It almost feels like they have another roommate, one that doesn’t pay rent and that Ron didn’t choose. Well, he didn’t choose Hermione either, but that worked out. Sort of. 
Ever since Hermione and Victor became ‘official’, they’ve spent almost every waking moment together. Ron comes home after work, Krum is here. He wakes up in the morning, Krum is still here. The only time Krum seems to spend outside of the apartment is between the hours of 9-5, and one hour at night, 8-9 pm, on Tuesdays and Thursdays. 
Whenever Ron has asked where he goes, he gets all weird and quiet. Whenever he asks Hermione, she doesn’t seem to know or care. 
“Honestly, Ron, it’s important for couples to spend time apart.”
“But Hermione, do you know where he goes?”
“No, because I respect his privacy.”
Why is Vicky the only one in this loft entitled to privacy? He often wonders when someone empties the laundry machine and leaves a trail of socks and underwear across the living room floor, or late at night when he can hear his roommates’ beds creaking, knowing they brought home a companion, a poor soul who has no idea how thin the walls are. 
It begs the question, what kind of dark shit is Krum getting up to between the hours of 8 and 9pm on Tuesdays and Thursdays if he can’t even tell his girlfriend about it?
Maybe he has an embarrassing hobby. Or a gambling addiction. Or a second girlfriend. 
Ron tries to ignore his heart’s fluttering in response to the last thought. What sort of friend would hope for that kind of thing?
“You might want to turn the stove on,” comes a gruff voice, interrupting Ron’s thoughts. “Or your egg will never cook.”
With a groan, Ron flicks on the burner. 
“Are you okay?” asks Krum as he takes a seat at the kitchen counter. “You seem distracted.”
Ron glances back at his unwelcome roommate. His thick robe hangs loosely around his waist, forming a deep v neck that exposes Krum’s chiseled pecs and chest hair. Why can’t the dude just cover himself up a bit? 
“M’fine.”
“Okay then. Look, I’m going to be out of town for the weekend—”
“You don’t have to tell me that,” interrupts Ron. 
“Sorry?”
“You don’t even live here, so you don’t have to tell us when you’ll be out.”
Ron keeps his back to Krum as he lets the awkward pause wash over. Sure, maybe he should be nicer to the guy, but someone should gently tell him he’s overstaying his welcome. Hermione won’t. 
“I was just going to ask if I could keep my car out front. Sometimes I get towed if I leave it out at my apartment—”
“Yeah. That’s fine.”
“Great,” says Krum as he rises to his feet and turns back toward Hermione’s room. “Thanks.”
“Where are you going this weekend?”
“Nowhere.” The sound of Hermione’s door closing punctuates Krum’s response.
Hmm. Very odd. 
Moments later, Harry appears from his bedroom door, still disheveled in his pajamas. “What’s got you down?”
“Vicky.”
“What about Viktor?”
“I’m telling you, he’s giving me the creeps.”
Harry chuckles. “Since when?”
“The cabin trip we all went on.”
Harry lets a full laugh escape, as he responds. “You’re ridiculous. He never bothered you before.”
“I think he’s cheating on Hermione.”
Harry’s eyes narrow and glances toward Hermione’s bedroom. “She doesn’t deserve that, but how do you know?”
“Gut feeling.”
“Ron—”
“I think if I went to his place, I’d find proof.” Ron raises an eyebrow at his friend, who violently shakes his head. 
“No.”
“Please come with me? I’ll give you free beer.”
“No. Plus you always give me free beer.”
Ron shrugs. “I’m going alone then. He’ll be out of town this weekend, and it’s the perfect opportunity to just check in.”
Harry groans. “You’re going to force my hand aren’t you?”
“Just come with me and make sure I don’t do anything unreasonable?”
“Going in the first place is unreasonable.”
“Still gonna do it.” 
Ron knows that Harry can’t resist a little bit of mischief, so all he has to do is wait him out. Ninety percent of the unreasonable things Ron has done in his life have involved his best friend.
Like clockwork, Harry raises an eyebrow. “Okay. When are you going?”
“Tomorrow morning, after Krum leaves town.”
Harry groans. “You know this is a terrible idea?”
“Yes. But I don’t care.”
“We’re not going to do anything illegal, right?”
Ron imagines what exactly they’ll do tomorrow — show up at Krum’s apartment and just open the door? If Vicky’s dumb enough to leave his door unlocked while he’s out of town, then sure. But he’s definitely not dumb. If he was, Hermione would be staying far far away from him, and yet, here they are. It won’t be the first time Ron has snuck into a window. He was a horny teenager with a girlfriend and strict parents before, and crowbars are quite effective. 
“No, of course we won’t do anything illegal.”
Harry nods. “Then fine,” he says, the reluctance in his voice rather light. 
“Knew I could count on you.”
x
It doesn’t take long for Ron and Harry to locate Viktor’s address — the internet is a wonderful invention. They pull up to his street and emerge from the car. On Ron’s back is a bag equipped with a crowbar, a rope, and a clipboard. Ron’s found that holding a clipboard is the best way to look like you’re supposed to be there.
“None of this makes sense, mate.”
“Sure it does.” 
As Ron shuffles along the pavement of an unfamiliar neighborhood, Harry trots behind him in an effort to keep up. 
“You have no evidence that he’s cheating.”
“That’s why we’re doing this. To find some.”
“Ugh.”
Harry and Ron eventually stumble to the front porch of Viktor Krum’s duplex. It is larger than expected, but slightly run-down. The grass in the front lawn needs to be mowed, and on the front porch sit two pots that once housed plants, maybe. By the looks of it, no one has watered them in years. The paint is peeling off of the siding, and one of the stairs on the front stoop has rotted through. Even though their loft is still rather dumpy, Viktor’s makes it look like a castle. 
“No wonder he’s always staying at our apartment.”
Ron peers around to the side of the house. A cracked window reveals an unmade bed inside. From his research, Ron knows that Krum lives in the first apartment on the left. 
“We’re going in through the window.”
“Breaking and entering, cool,” grumbles Harry. 
“Just entering. No need to break.”
Harry and Ron tiptoe across the overgrown grass and when they reach the window, it takes both of them to wedge it up high enough for them to fit through. Harry props Ron up and he slithers head-first into Viktor Krum’s bedroom. Harry follows, and both boys land in a thud on the carpet of the darkened room.
“You’d think he’d be able to afford a nicer place,” says Ron. 
“Maybe he’s saving for an engagement ring or something,” sniggers Harry.
“Fuck mate, why would you say that?”
“To watch you squirm.”
Harry and Ron get to searching Krum’s apartment, flipping over couch cushions and rummaging through bookshelves looking for something — anything — that might belong to a girl who isn’t Hermione. Jewelry, clothing, makeup, perfume. One sniff and Ron would surely be able to tell if the perfume is hers. 
“What’s this?” Harry’s voice travels from a smaller room attached to the living area. Ron peers inside to find a cluttered desk next to a bookshelf. Lining the shelf is a collection of Agatha Christie and Stephen King novels, and writing utensils galore. Harry is standing at the desk with a thick binder in his hands. “I think it’s a story.”
“Let me read it.” Ron yanks the binder from Harry’s hands and turns to a random page. 
“She was dead. So very dead. The way her bushy brown hair splayed across the ground and nearly blended in with the fallen leaves made her look so natural in that state, like she was finally at peace. But her eyes were open, revealing the look of shock in her face. But there was something else there. Recognition. Betrayal. 
Her hand still clutched the stab wound in her stomach, and Special Agent Reid knew that her stomach lining wasn’t the only thing that had recently been broken. So had her heart. 
Clearly, she knew her killer. And most likely, if statistics proved to be true — and Spencer Reid always trusted statistics — it was her lover.”
“What the fuck is this?” splutters Ron.
Harry laughs. “I don’t know, but I’d be embarrassed if someone found that at my desk. I think he’s just writing. Special Agent Reid is a character on Criminal Minds.”
“Yeah, and the dead girl with bushy brown hair is clearly Hermione.”
“It appears to be fanfiction.”
Who the fuck writes fanfiction? “Oddly specific fanfiction.”
“I don’t think it’s anything to be concerned about,” shrugs Harry. “It’s probably just a creative outlet.”
“She was killed by her lover, Harry.”
“We should probably go,” says Harry. “I’m nervous someone saw us sneaking in here, and we can’t find what we’re looking for.”
Can’t find what we’re looking for? What the fuck is he talking about? “Harry, we’ve found something much worse than what we’re looking for.”
“Fanfiction?”
“No, evidence that he thinks about killing Hermione.”
“He doesn’t think about that, Ron. He’s just writing.”
“Why aren’t you more concerned about this?”
“Honestly?” Harry shrugs. “Because he’s not a bad guy. He treats Hermione well. He’s kind. And we just discovered an embarrassing secret of his and should probably keep it to ourselves.”
“Don’t you think we should tell her and let her decide if it’s concerning?”
“Hermione’s a grown woman who can take care of herself.”
Ron sighs. He pulls his phone from his pocket and snaps a picture of the open page of Krum’s story. “Well I’m going to tell her.”
“How are you going to explain why we were in his apartment?”
“Dunno.”
“Want my opinion, Ron?”
No. Not really. Ron decides not to answer, but Harry continues anyway. 
“Leave her alone. It really feels like you want him to be cheating on her. Or to, I dunno, be plotting to murder her.” He gestures to the binder when he emphasizes the word. “See how ridiculous it sounds when I say it?”
Ron has to admit that Harry has a point. 
“I know you care about her, so stop sabotaging your friendship by meddling in her relationship.”
Ron grunts. “When did you become so good at relationships?”
Harry gets a strange look in his eye. “Well, if you must know—”
“No, I don’t need to know,” grumbles Ron, as the memory of Harry and Ginny holding hands flashes across his mind. 
“Fair enough,” says Harry with a smile. “Let’s get out of here before we get caught?”
“Yeah,” agrees Ron . Probably a good idea. 
x
Hours later, Ron is cleaning glasses at the Burrow while Harry sits across from him at the bar, picking at a pile of french fries in front of him. “I still can’t believe we snuck into his house.”
“I can,” says Ron with a shrug. Honestly, it felt a lot like storming Cormac for Hermione’s belongings when she first moved in. Some people make Ron want to throw logic out the window. 
“You’re an awful influence, Ron.”
No, Hermione’s the awful influence. Ron turns to stack newly washed glasses on the shelf at the back of the bar. He is definitely being unreasonable. Hermione, in no way shape or form, caused him to break into Krum’s apartment. It was his concern for her that did. Because he cares. Plus, even if Harry doesn’t agree, if you ask Ron, they found what they were looking for. 
“Hello, roommates.” Hermione’s voice echoes from the front door. It’s only three o’clock, and the bar doesn’t pick up until later, and the lack of people in the room makes Hermione’s presence seem all that much stronger. 
“Oh, hi Hermione,” says Ron.
“Hey, Hermione. Good to see ya,” says Harry. “Also, I’m going to be late to meet Gin, so see you back at the loft later—”
“I didn’t know you were hanging out with Ginny today.”
Harry pushes his half-eaten french fries out of the way and rises to his feet. “Bye!” 
Hermione takes his empty chair, and both of them watch Harry scuffle out the front door with an extra pep in his step. 
“That was weird,” says Hermione with a shrug. 
“Yeah.”
She pulls Harry’s plate of french fries closer to her, and plucks at one. “So what did you two do today?”
“Nothing, really.”
“Really? I just didn’t see either of you at the loft.”
Ron avoids her eye contact and shrugs. “Guy stuff.”
“Right,” she says, while she cocks her head to the side, studying him. “So are you working till close?”
“Yep.” Ron feels a pang of guilt at how terse his answers are. Ever since the cabin, he’s been quite short with her. He tells himself he’s just giving her space, but deep down, he knows it goes beyond that. 
Hermione persists. “Mind if I hang out here for a while? Obviously Ginny’s busy with Harry and Viktor’s gone for the weekend.”
“Sure,” he says. Then, willing himself to keep the conversation flowing, he adds “You still don’t know where Viktor is this weekend?”
Hermione hesitates before answering. “Just on a trip.”
So she does know where he is? Or maybe she doesn’t and it worries her.  
Overwhelmed with a desire to come clean, Ron turns back to her. “Can I tell you something, and you promise you won’t get mad at me?”
Hermione seems to brighten at the fact that his answer is longer than one word. “No, I can’t promise that, Ron. But please tell me.”
Ron groans. He shouldn’t say anything. But he does. “He gives me a weird vibe. Something’s off.”
“Of course he does,” says Hermione, rolling her eyes. 
“What does that mean?” asks Ron, his defenses rising. 
“Seriously, Ron?” she asks, her voice incredulous. “Tell me, Ron, see that guy in the booth?”
Ron follows her gesture to one of the only other patrons currently in the bar — a middle aged man reading a book and sipping an IPA. “Yes.” “Does he give you a weird vibe?”
“No, not really.”
“If I were to walk over to him and snog him, would he then give you a weird vibe?”
What kind of question is that? “Yes, but because he’s willing to snog a stranger in a bar—”
“You’re not willing to snog strangers at bars?” Ron’s mind darts back to Lavender. Sure, he was willing to snog strangers at bars, but they all know how that turned out. 
“Okay, what are you saying?”
“I know we’re dancing around it Ron. It’s the elephant in the room.”
The hair on Ron’s arm tingles as it stands on edge. The last thing he expects is for Hermione to actually name the elephant in the room. Does this mean she’s about to shut him down once and for all? Tell him she’s happy with Krum? And that he should fuck off? Well, Fuck. 
“Okay, but—”
“I love being your friend and your roommate, I’m in a stable relationship, and not willing to change that right now.”
Shit. 
Hermione continues. “Will Viktor and I marry each other? Probably not. But at this point in my life, this is what I need.”
So, Hermione thinks Ron is pining uncontrollably for her? Is that how it is? “I didn’t break up with Lavender because of you, you know.”
“Oh, I know.”
Does she know, though? 
“And that is not why Krum gives me a vibe.”
She laughs. “Okay, why then?”
Ron groans. He really shouldn’t show her. Even if she thinks he found it at the loft, she’d probably just get angry at him for going through his things. But, for some reason, he can’t resist. “I found this today.”
Ron pulls his phone from his pocket and clicks through his photos. When the photo of Krum’s little story surfaces, he slides his phone to her across the bar. 
Hermione picks it up and her eyebrows narrow to the text. “Where did you find this, Ron?”
What can he say? On his desk. In his apartment. The one I broke into earlier. “He left it out,” says Ron. It’s technically not a lie. 
“That’s an invasion of his privacy,” says Hermione, coldly. 
“Does it not concern you?”
Hermione shrugs. “Honestly, no, it doesn’t. He’s already shown me.”
“What?”
Hermione contemplates before giving up more details. “He’s taking a creative writing class, and this was one of his assignments,” she says, gesturing to Ron’s phone. “To write a fanfiction story from his favorite show. And he loves Criminal Minds.”
“Are you serious?” Harry was fucking right.
“Yes, it’s what he does every Tuesday and Thursday night. And that’s where he is now, actually, at a writing retreat.”
“So he’s like… serious about writing?”
Hermione shrugs. 
“It doesn’t bother you that you’re the dead girl in that story?”
“Not really, no.”
“And that you were killed by your lover?”
Hermione laughs but shakes her head. 
“It’s not very good.” He’s definitely grasping at straws now. 
“I know that,” says Hermione. Ron’s pleasantly surprised that she agrees with him. 
“Why does he do it?”
“He enjoys it. Isn’t that enough?” Finishing off Harry’s old fries, Hermione wipes her hand on a napkin. “Can I have a cream ale?”
“Sure,” says Ron as he reaches for a pint glass. “So you’re confident that he doesn’t want to kill you?”
Hermione laughs. “No, he doesn’t, thank god.”
“He’s not going to break your stomach lining and then your heart?”
“Okay,” groans Hermione. “Don’t be mean.”
Ron hands her the dripping cream ale. She smiles and takes it from him, her cheeks tinging pink with what Ron presumes is secondhand embarrassment. Honestly, it’s quite nice that she supports him, even though his hobby is a bit weird. It’s what Ron would call a green flag. Krum is a lucky bastard.
“My heart isn’t breakable right now, anyway,” she adds, before taking a sip of the foam layer at the top of her beer.
Ron cocks an eyebrow. 
“Still have too many walls up, you know.”
“Oh I know, you’re a total ice queen.”
Hermione laughs, and Ron feels himself relax. It was a tough few days of not speaking freely with her. 
“Thank you for talking to me. I missed having you as my friend,” she says. 
The way she emphasizes friend sits strangely with Ron. As though she’s dictating the specific role she wants him to play right now. For some reason, it doesn’t feel quite like being friendzoned, and he can’t figure out why. There’s something temporary about the way she says friend. 
Or is he reading way too much into that? He doesn’t want to be her friend. And yet, he loves being her friend. How does that even make sense? 
“Right,” says Ron, cautiously. “So if I wanted to write bad fanfiction, would you support me? As a friend?”
“Of course!” says Hermione cheerfully. “I’d beta read for you.”
“Well then, maybe I’ll take up the habit. Show you I have other talents besides giving you free beer and being your attractive roommate.”
Hermione rolls her eyes, yet a smile graces her lips. “I bet you’d be a good writer,” she says as she gulps down the last of her beer.
“Maybe you’ll find out. Want another beer?”
“Sure!”
Ron pulls her glass away and refills it under the tap. This is definitely the weirdest friendship he has. But he’ll play along. 
For now. 
x
It is far too late when Ron finally makes it home from the bar, and as much as he wants to sleep, he’s too wired from his conversation before. He strips down to his boxers and collapses into the bed. Although he would love to continue talking with Hermione, there are no signs of life in any of the bedrooms, so it’s a safe bet that everyone in the loft is asleep. 
Ron turns to his side and reaches his phone on his bedside table. Without a second thought, he starts typing away. Hopefully Hermione has her text notifications on silent. There is no reason she can’t have two story tellers in her life. 
“She was about 5’6, had brown eyes, and wore a Hamilton t-shirt. She loved to watch romantic comedies and was a total coffee snob, even though she couldn’t tell the difference between a cappuccino and a latte. Her sultry gaze and bushy brown hair splayed wildly out at all angles, making her appear like a sexy medusa. In fact she could turn you rock hard in an instant. She had her whole life ahead of her. Or so she thought…”
Before he can overthink it, Ron presses send. 
His heart rate quickens as he stares at his message. She’s asleep, so there is no way she’ll see it until tomorrow morning—
Then, three little dots appear at the bottom of his screen, and his palms begin to sweat. Oh shit. 
“Oh my god, Ron, what is this?”
Well, he’s committed now. 
“Little did she know, her life as she knew it was about to end. In walked a man, about 6’5, bright red hair, and a pale, yet chiseled adonis-like body. Nothing like her current boyfriend, but everything she wished her current boyfriend could be. He didn’t waste time writing fanfiction and playing sports, and instead crafted beautiful cocktails from the basement dive bar, was quite broke, and regularly forgot to do his laundry. Like a REAL MAN.”
Hermione is quicker to respond this time. “You’re ridiculous. But keep going please.”
Yes, ma’am. “And he wasn’t just a sex god. He was also a… dun dun dun… MURDERER.”
“LMAO. This is so mean. But I’m laughing so hard.”
Ron continues typing away. “She knew all of this. And yet, she still wanted him. She didn’t care if it was her last night on earth, because she knew it would be her best night on earth. And that was all she needed.”
“OMG now you’re getting carried away.”
She’s not wrong, yet something urges him to keep going. “She entered his apartment, so he could enter HER.”
Yeah, maybe he is getting carried away, but it’s fun, so what’s the harm? Plus, she promised to support his creative writing journey. 
While waiting for Hermione’s response, Ron’s bedroom door bursts open, and Hermione stomps across the room. Her face is flushed and Ron can tell she is trying to hide a smile. “Phone, please?” she asks, her arm extended.
“No, I’m writing a story!”
Hermione stands her ground. “You’ve lost your phone privileges.”
“But I’m going to be the next Stephen King.”
Hermione lets out a laugh and dives onto the bed, wrestling his hand for his phone. She braces her knees on either side of him, pinning him between her legs. Ron makes a show of struggling, but as much as he wants to keep her there forever, he eventually lets her win. 
“Fine,” he says, handing over his phone. 
It only takes a moment for them to pause, limbs entangled, for Ron’s mind to run wild. How easy would it be for him to turn the moment serious? He could wrap an arm around her waist and pin her to him. He doubts she’d resist. She has a boyfriend, but she also seems surprisingly comfortable with her arms draped around Ron’s body. She knows he’s only wearing boxers under the covers, right?
They linger there for a moment that solidifies Ron’s inkling from before. She bites her lip, her eyes dart down toward the covers. The way she doesn’t immediately jump off of the bed when she notices that he’s in his underwear suggests that the friendzone is an arbitrary construct. 
Ron steadies his voice in an effort to hide his rising heart beat.  “Careful, Hermione. I’m a sex god with a habit for murder.” 
Yeah, took one second for him to fuck that up. 
“I fucking hate you,” she says, as she wrangles herself back up, his phone in her hand. “You are most definitely not a killer.” 
Yeah, it took one second for him to fuck that up. However, Ron’s stomach flutters at the sound of her swearing. She hardly ever cusses, only when she’s with him. “Right, but am I a sex god?”
Hermione laughs. “I wouldn’t know, would I?”
Ron raises an eyebrow. “Care to find out?” 
Maybe he shouldn’t have had that whiskey shot at the end of his shift. He’s acting a bit too bold. 
“I have a boyfriend.”
Her answer echoes in Ron’s mind. He doesn’t miss the way Hermione averts her gaze, and her cheeks flush red.
“I know. We’ve established that.” Then, with a inhale to gain courage, he adds, “But if you didn’t?”
Maybe Ron imagines it, but a look flashes across her eyes, and the corners of her lips turn up in a smile. She shakes her head as if to halt the beginning of a fantasy before it runs wild. “I really should sleep. Goodnight, Ron.”
“Night, Hermione.”
Ron grins as she turns and leaves the room, fully aware that she never answered his question.
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cutepastelstarsalior · 3 months
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Decided to watch Hazbin Hotel…..(only because I hard that Jeremy Jordan is Lucifer va…..and also because i am a hater™️)
Watching this on Watch Anime dub, it has the pilot…so
Pilot
Pilot Charlie voice is so pretty. God the angels designs remind me of those weird The Purge neon mask…forget how red this pilot is..there is a lot of random sounds effects, it feels a tinnnyyyyyy bit to much. Pilot angels voice <3 snake guy voice so SO familiar????? I feel like he was in a video game or something. Hmm I forgot how much cursing there is…minor pet peeve, sometimes the lineart is hot pink and it’s kind of annoying since it sticks out against black lineart, also there SO many eyes, everywhere? Idk if that a fun little quirk or lore™️ that one news reporter being on fire made me laugh.. I like the mixed art style when Vaggie talks about Alastor, it’s charming. Hmmm, radio sound effects, love them <3
I think it’s cool that Charlie is a very sweet, kind of “childish” Nieves princess in a world full of murder and hate and violence. It makes me wonder how she got that way? Also hell is overpopulated so the angels kill them. Interesting!! Especially since lot of demons also fight over territory. This Katie killjoy does have a point, why would sinners want to change? Beside the killing, it seems like hell is basically Earth 2.0.. It is cool how Alastor the radio demon, decided to help out because he’s bored.
GOOSEWORX THE CEATOR OF THE AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS :0 👀 yooooooo. Jesus there so many people working on this pilot…
Scale of 1-5 I give this a 3.5.
Episode 1
Ok, so the intro says that the angels have an extermination because they don’t want Hell to rise up. But in the pilot it was because of overpopulation…Also Lucifer not liking hell and can no longer dream, while Lilith thrives…hmmm if this story has Lilith be evil while Lucifer is good idk how to feel about that. The voices are different, while I don’t like Charlie’s new voice (sounds to idk deep?) I definitely like Vaggies, it’s deep and a bit monotone. Also new outfits!!! Charlie’s is fine, but I don’t like how sharp her face is? So look more older and mature compared to her pilot self, which add the whole naive princess feel. It’s canonically 5days to a week between the events of the pilot and the first episode…oh ew I hate Angels voice. It’s too high, and he has an accent now??? Oh Husk voice!! While is deep, it’s also high? No longer gruff.. hmm character wise, angels seem more bitchy?? Then the pilot?
Ok…random song???? Just…no build up music or anything.. Charlie curses more too. In the pilot she curse like, 3 times. Here she does it more.
There is a giant clock tower thing that went you go in, leases to a lobby then leads to the angels???? Wouldn’t that make it like, easier to attack heaven or something? Why is an Angel, like the heaven angel, cursing?? I feel like that would be against the rules?? WAIT THATS ADAM LIKE FIRST HUMAN ADAM???? Oh no that worse… like like nifty she’s a cutiepie :)
Ok Hell is still overpopulated, and heaven keeps killing then because they think he’ll will overpower them, but Adam does it for entertainment? Hmmm they also going to kill again in 6 months. :/ Katie killjoy voice is also bad.. oh!!! Wait Adam lied, the real reason heaven is killing again because an Angel was killed? But an angel was never killed before??? I thought hell was very powerful?
Episode rating 1-5. I give it a 3. I like the singing, love Vaggies and Alastor’s dynamic. But the plot is a bit confusing? Is hell being kill because of overpowered or because of overpopulated? The hotel design is pretty. Though he’ll is still red :/
Episode 2
Why is hell citizen freaking out? In the pilot it seems like they like it, because people can fight over territory. And an angel was murder, so ??? Don’t see why they would panic.
The Vees. Vox, a tv head demon who is like a weird Amazon business guy. His design is…clutter. Dude, striped jacket with vertical stripes shirt? Tho thank god he’s blue, he sticks out nicely in hell. I like his blue neon eyeliner, that cool. Velvet is a British fashion designer….shes fine. I don’t really care for her. And Valentino, who’s is Angel’s boss/pimp. And oh my gosh whose voice, his accent keeps coming and going??? It’s bad I hate it, because it’s so noticeable. Interesting that he’s Spainish(?)
Vox can hypnotize people and he did a cool tv voice effect!! Oh god I think I have a favorite character??? Vox and nifty…
Ok ok ok, so there a radio demon, a tv demon, is there a computer/internet demon??? God I hope so. Imagine if there an internet demon and vox and alastor has to like put aside there differences and work together.
Why is there Egyptian demons???? Ancient Egyptian believed in an underworld called Duat, but it’s not a place of external punishment. The ancient Egyptian thought the worst punishment a soul could have would be denial to the afterlife, and being ceased to exist. The souls did have to make a dangerous journey to be judged by Horus and Osiris. (Wiki)
Vox asked Alastor to join his team?? Maybe Vox doesn’t like Velvet and Valitini that much? He seems more like a boss to them than a friend.
“And that’s the tea” :/ Why is Alastair using slang from after the 20’s? I mean sure he probably learn it in hell. But Alastor is like from 1920. That’s the tea/spilling tea is original from drag culture in 1994.
What IS Charlie’s plan to redeems sinners? Charlie was born in hell, and the sinner were from earth, surely the sinner like, know how to apologize and basic human decency? Maybe they just forgot? Maybe they need to like, clean themselves of their sin??? Idk.
Oh my god Charlie is having them do a say no to drugs roleplay!!!! ……that. Akers me wonder, how does Charlie’s know this stuff if she’s from hell? Does she learn this by watching the sinners? Did her mom or dad teach her this??? Ok, so I have seen the pilot and that seen post about that one comic about angel day to day life, and seen the addic music video. So it’s a surprise that Fat Nuggets, Angle’s pet pig is here. And that weird red smoke.
I don’t care for snake guy. He’s…neutral. Kind of suck that who snake guy being a spy was like, immediately uncovered. Kind of wished that angle was get like bummed out about the attention snake guy is getting, then later he would like, try to find out what is going on. Or something!!! But I guess having snake guy be an actual member of the team is fine. Tho, I do like his design. It’s nice to see characters that aren’t so red. Angel’s and Vaggie’s singing voice harmonies really well. Ok, this is like the first sign I actually enjoy.
Scale 1-5. I give it a 4. Only because of Vox, and that ending song.
Episode 3
Snake guy wanting to shoot the other residents because he thinks everyone is to nice and it’s a lie. That…that surprisingly a deep thought? Like I didn’t expect the show to have the residents not trust one another because they are waiting for the other shoe to drop. Also it seems like Vaggie and Alastair run the hotel, like doing up with the ad, making rules. Seems like Charlie is just the face/money aspect of the hotel. My guess is that in the future Charlie wants to quit, or is forced to to quit, and Vaggie take over, or gives like, an emotional speech about how the hotel and running it charge her for the better.
I remover in the pilot, or around that time, Alastor is aroace (nice) but I don’t remember what Vaggie is. But I can see people shipping them. For me, I could see then being close friends or maybe a weird ambiguous relationship.
Charlie you kind of a shitty boss. Like, I know I just said that vaggie does all the work, but girl, you have to do some work to?
Oh my god there do a Mean Girls trust fall bit.
Weird green spider guy….i love him. Wish this show has subtitles, would love to understand what this guy is saying..
There sub overloads? Neat. God that weird neon wolf??? Dinosaur??? Is SO distracting, like they really stick out against the reds and washout colors..
Once again, a another song without any music buildup or warning. “I’m the backbone of the Vees” hmmmmm are you tho? Like, Vox is doing a lot, and Val is….there. WAIT IS SHE the internet overboard??? She’s call “social media overlord” in one of the screen backgrounds.. god if she if, that lame. She not like, scary or imitating?? She’s just annoying. Man that sucksss. We could have like a cool internet overlord that was young and careless, but that a persona, and on the inside they are rude and vile. Because the internet has everything and anything, so they could instantly control people lives or spread rumors or doxxs people????
Idk why, but velvet sing reminds me of SIX the musical. But I know that her VA is Lily Cooper who did the SpongeBob musical and wicked , and not SIX.
Why is this lady’s earring hanging off her hair??? Do sinner/demons/whatever not have ears or noses?? Eghh I don’t like her singing?? It feel like she’s straining herself.
WAIT THE SNAKE EGG HAS EGGS BECAUSE SNAKE LAY EGGS BUT THEY ALSO EAT THEM. OHHHHH. why did that take me so long to figure that out??
Scale 1-4. I give this a 2. Idk man, this episode is kind of boring.
Episode 4
Oh dear, I hard LOT of bad things with this episode…let’s see how bad it is.
Charlie get gross out by the sex tape….asexual Charlie real. To me!!!! Also same, Charlie, same.
“Dollface” aw, cute.
Angel panicking about Charlie trying to talk to his boss. I’m guessing he’s afraid that if Charlie accidentally angers Val, Val will take his anger out on Angel. :(
Oh cool. Val hit angel. Wow!! (Sarcasm) Totally wish there was like, a warning or something for that!!!!
Hmm ok. So that song was…bad. Like lyrically bad. As for the scenes, I literally don’t know how to feel about them? Like knowing the backstories of this episode, it grosses me out. But the song and scenes, just didn’t feel anything? Idk.
I don’t think husk should get angel back?? Angel was sexually harassed him, and husk has repeatedly said no. Like yeah, angel did that has a bad coping mechanisms or like, persona, but hmmm. I feel like if they two need to talk to each other, it could be in a different way? Also I noticed this episode is SUPER short compared to the other ones. The other once’s are like 22 minutes, this one is 12.
Oh cool, husk stoped angel from getting roofied. I guess with him being a bartender, he’s train to watch out of these things.
Husk singing voice is so so nice <3 but WOW is this message a bad one. Angel sold his soul to Val, and Val abuses him. Angel then self destruct because he thinks if he (angel) is broken enough then Val will let him go. Meanwhile…..Husk was an overlord who gamble and lost his soul to Alastor…..these 2 problems don’t equal each other. One is horrible, and one is a bummer situation. Also the message for being at rock bottom, together, maybe he helped to some people, but I think in Angel’s case he needs different help. Like sometimes when people act worse with each other, it can make people not want to get better or encourage someone to get worse. I feel like that what husk and angel dynamic is?
For some reason I feel like Charlie was written really out of character here??? She crying and had to be carried away. It feels very weird.
Scale 1-4. I give this a 1. Would have have this a 0 but husk singing voice save it.
I heard that episode 5 and 6 are coming soon. Will I seen them, probably. Do I enjoy this show? Not really. The concept is cool! And like, only 3 characters I enjoy. But I feel like the way this is handled is bad. On Prime Video this show is 18+. Honestly, this show feels more like TV-14 - TV-MA. TV 14 is decried as intended for children ages 14 and up in company of an adult. It possibly contains suggesting dialogue, strong language, intense sexual situations, or intense violence.
TV MA is for adults. It possibly contains crude indecent language, explicit sexual activity, or graphic violence. On IMDb Hazbin Hotel has 19 sex and nudity, 14 gore and violence, 9 profanity, 10 alcohol, drugs and smoking, 9 fighting and intense scenes. On HBO MAX it’s 18+, TVMA, when video version, and 16+ on YouTube. So like, who is this show for???
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booppooo · 1 year
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Whenever you open up requests again, I'd love to see a p2 of Never! Like, if reader tries to have sex with someone else and it's just not as satisfying and she complains to Ellie and then gets an encore performance ~
AN: I'm so sorry this took so long!!! Im in college so I be doing school stuff :( please forgive me
Warnings: you almost have smexy time with some dude ick, unestablished relationship, making out, scissoring (there's so much scissoring on my blog I'm so sorry), Ellie being horny and flirty, weed
Part 1
-
Ellie kept her promise when she said she wouldn't tell anyone.
Her lips were sealed, and she kept a calm and collected demeanor about the situation as a whole. You on the other hand - maybe not so much.
Sometimes, involuntarily, you'd get random flash backs to the fateful evening. The dark color of your pistol would remind you of her strap, the smell of your sweaty hands after a long day of patrol also sent you back in time. It would make you freeze and your skin burn hot, then your groin would grow warm as if Ellie's touch still lingered.
As if Ellie still lingered.
Every time you were near her your heart would nearly explode. Again, your face would become embarrassingly warm, the urge to lean over into her ear and whisper how much you missed her and wished to relive that night burned in your chest.
Yet, you held yourself together, knowing the interaction you two shared was nothing more than a favor. She was essentially setting you up for success. When you thought too deeply about it, you wondered how such a vulnerable and pivotal moment between two beings could be brushed off so easily?
That question eventually snowballed in your mind. When you weren't fighting for your life and protecting those back in Jackson, you were thinking about Ellie. You'd turn in early at night and try to trace the patterns on yourself that she once had, only to grow frustrated. It would be an understatement to say she had branded you. There seemed to be only one solution:
To find one of those meatheads she warned you about to rid her of you.
The next dance would be your hunting ground.
-
Several gin and tonic's in and you were teetering on the edge of total intoxication. No matter how hard you fought to stay coherent and cool, you slurred your words and stumbled. After each sentence you giggled, your limbs feeling as adventurous by always ending back up on the dance floor.
And admits this all, you kept your eyes peeled for someone who would end the constant battle in your brain. Luckily for you, you didn't have to dance very far.
A song ended and everyone clapped, only for another one to be birthed, and a man around your age in a button up and jeans tapped your shoulder. He held out his hand and politely asked you to dance, then flashed a charming smile that left you half-dizzy. How could you say no?
So, you gently rested your palm in his and let him adjust you both accordingly to slow dance to the song. Despite the distinct smell of whiskey lingering on him, he smelled musky and gruff, tickling a part of your nose you didn't know you enjoyed. His calloused hands contradicted his careful touch, soft grin contrasting wandering eyes. It wasn't long before one thing led to another and you were at his home.
Once you were in the door, shoes and coat left near the entrance, you'd been seated on his counter with his lips on yours. Again, whiskey was at the forefront. You noted how clumsy and rough he was. To give him the benefit of the doubt you blamed the drinking, because surely you were no angel.
Once he pressed his tongue past your lips things seemed to only get more awkward. Your teeth clinked together and his excessively slippery tongue coated your mouth and nearly choked you - as fast as it came it went. Now he was on your jaw and throat.
He was rushing. You felt behind and disoriented to say the least, but you didn't say no when his hand reached under your shirt to unclip your bra. In a haste you grabbed his excited arms for support, forgetting you were supposed to be enjoying this. Being drunk wasn't helping.
Next he wriggled between your thighs, and you felt his erection on your thigh. This is when you realized you felt nothing of the sort. The only dampness you recalled was sweat mostly caused from dancing and how stressed his ministrations made you.
He groped your breast, hard. It made you yelp and shove him away.
"Hey? What's wrong?" Red cheeks and glossy lips.
"I just...I'm sorry," you began to hastily clip your bra, "I can't, I don't feel good."
"Huh?"
Running for your boots and coat you mumbled, "I need to leave, I think I'm sick."
"What? C'mon don't blue ball me!"
No time to argue, you were out the door.
-
By some grace of god that guy hadn't crossed paths with you since that night. Needless to say you had been isolating more than usual, so that was also a factor to consider.
It wasn't as if you were doing it for attention, or wanting your friends to try and drag you out to some get together. You genuinely needed time to ponder what had occurred, how you felt about him and still Ellie.
In an attempt to figure it out, you journaled about it, scribbling down all your thoughts. It eased some of the tension, but not all of it. Not the physical aspect, at least.
Because now you felt his touch and Ellie's, both battling on your skin, leaving different types of heat in different places.
You hoped it would soon pass and time would heal everything. But when you woke up for patrol with Ellie one morning, you still felt the same sensations as the day before. Ellie noticed.
You had finished logging the two of you in and you both sat on a torn love seat to catch a breather. The closeness between you made your knee bounce.
Ellie pulled some items out of her bag that you didn't take notice of at first, "Hey uhm, everything alright?" She wondered.
Finally you looked over to her, and she had a tray on her lap, lithe fingers rolling a joint. You choked on the air caught in your throat.
She noticed the fearful red on your cheeks, "Oh" - she motioned to the joint - "you don't have to if you don't want to."
The only response you could create was a faint hum.
"Anyway, you've been kinda distant I guess. Is something going on?"
When her tongue peaked between her lips to lick the paper, a fire erupted in your core.
Nervously, you cleared your throat, "Just have a lot on my mind."
She eyed you from her peripherals, "....Wanna talk about it?"
Now the joint was between her lips, and she cupped her hand near the lighter as she lit the end. How could someone make this look so effortless and sexy?
"I mean..." you didn't even know where to begin.
"If you're not ready to talk that's cool too," she tossed her ankle over her knee and slouched into the cushions.
You knew you should talk about it. Even if you didn't mention how you thought about her day and night you could at least bring up him. It would be good to get it off your chest and lighten the load some.
"I uh, I met up with this guy at the dance. And we almost..." you nodded toward your pants, "but I couldn't do it. I feel bad. He was going too fast and all I could taste on him was whiskey. He just-"
"Wasn't me?"
You weren't sure if you heard her right.
"Huh?"
Her mossy-blood-shot eyes slowly scanned over to you and a faint grin snaked across her lips. She took another long, sensual drag of her joint, and let the smoke funnel out with her words:
"I think about that night a lot. It was fun. I've been tempted to ask if you wanted a round two, but you've been keeping to yourself."
Her words didn't feel real.
"I'm not sure if that's what you were getting at. Point is - if you ever want to dick around again, I'm game."
Then she returned to herself, watching the ceiling and smoking. The amount of self control she had baffled you. Maybe her feelings weren't as intense as yours, but nonetheless there was still enough there for her to want to do it again. That had to mean something, right?
You'd feel like a fool for saying no, because surely if you had another night with her then that feeling would shake. Or would it? What if it only got worse? Perhaps, there was only one way to find out.
"Yeah, sure." You answered.
She turned to you with raised brows, "Really?"
Confidently, you nodded.
And that confidence had you riding some sort of metaphorical high, because then you reached for the joint pinched between her index and thumb.
"What do I do?"
She scanned you, large pupils darting around your features as she calculated what to think or do or say.
"Ah-okay. So just hold it up to your lips like I was, and breathe in. Be gentle though, or else you'll cough. Yeah, like that."
The burn in your throat and lungs was extremely uncomfortable, and you still coughed. You knew your first time smoking wouldn't make you feel anything, but it only seemed fitting since Ellie was the one to pop your cherry.
She chuckled at your struggled breathing, took one last hit, and then put out the last of it on the tray set aside.
"I don't have my strap on me right now-"
"I don't care."
Again, her response was delayed, "Ya sure? Isn't that like the whole point?"
"Doesn't have to be. We can save it for next time."
She scoffed sarcastically, "Next time?"
You mocked her scoff, "Uh- yeah. If you wanted seconds you're most likely to want thirds, too."
The smirk on her lips made you think she was impressed.
"Alright, I like the sound of that."
A wide smile broke out, and you bit it back, watching as she smoothly inched toward you.
One of her palms fell to your thigh, the other feeling the curve of your jaw. Honey-like warmth filled your woman hood, your heart beating with excitement, fingers tingly with anticipation.
Ellie hovered inches away from your face, eyes glazed with lust and her high. A hungry spark quickly ignited in your stomach.
"C'mon pretty girl, don't leave me hangin'."
And you didn't.
The taste of her lips was everything you had been intensely craving for so long. Soft, sure, experienced, knowing. All your muscles were tense yet relaxed.
She wasn't close enough. You cupped her face and neck and urged her closer. Her smile was mixed into your sinful kiss, her nails were also digging into your thigh and made the fire within you brighter and hotter. Then your tongues clashed and collided, sending you deeper.
It relieved you how stimulated Ellie made you feel. You didn't want to waste another second with her, yet you wanted to soak this all up, and let yourself sufficiently scratch this itch she had left. Alas, you tugged at her shirt and helped her squirm out, then she pinned your shoulders to the cushions.
"Someone missed me." Ellie huffed, unbuttoning your jeans.
"You have no idea."
At this she smiled - completely full of it.
But her smile slowly faded once she reached your dampened panties, and she went into deep thought.
"Is something wrong?"
She squinted at you, then wondered, "Wanna scissor?"
Your soul drained from your face.
"We don't have to - just askin' if you wanna try."
"I mean..." you weren't entirely sure what 'scissoring' was, "have you done it before?"
Just like that fateful night, she was nonchalant, "Yeah. It's a lot of work, but worth it."
A lot of work? What could be more work that what she did with her strap?
You wanted to find out.
"Let's do it."
Sticky panties were ripped down your legs, then came her own bottoms - to match her you took off your shirt. Next, you watched curiously as she situated herself onto the furniture, positioning your legs and slotting herself between them.
"Oh....this is....different." You commented as she adjusted.
She looked at you with worry, "You still wanna do this?"
"Yes."
Her warm, large hand took your thigh and pressed it against her torso, your ankle dangling near her ear. She reached down and took your clothed boob in her palm, grinding her slick center along yours. Both of you sighed, and you squeaked when she pinched your nipple.
"Whatcha think?" Swollen and slick bottom lip pinched between her teeth lustfully.
A needy twinge accented your voice, "Don't stop!" Pathetically you tried to grind yourself up onto her.
"That's what I like to hear."
Again, her level of experience really showed. She knew how to swivel and dip her moving hips to glide against you in the most pleasurable way. Meanwhile, her tattooed hand wandered across your chest. Shoving your bra up your chest to watch your tits move with her ruts, toying with your borderline-painfully-hard nipples. Despite her doing most of the work you still felt a sheer layer of sweat perspire on your skin.
"Shit Ellie!" She had upped the anti.
Carefully trimmed nails leaving imprinted arches in your limb, but she wasn't without evidence either. The thigh folded by your hip was gripped and scratched and bruised from your desperate attempts to keep yourself steady and bring her that much closer.
"Fuck babe, I think I'm gonna cum-" Ellie panted.
Stuttering, strong hips jutted clumsily, barely stimulating the both of you, but just enough to tip you over the edge like a cat knocking a vase off the counter.
It had become a collaborative effort to milk your orgasms, most of it involuntary on account of your climax. Like bitches in heat you both moaned and whined and sucked air through your teeth while humping each other; every roll of the waist more exhausted than the last.
When you both came to a standstill, Ellie chuckled and tiredly closed her eyes, "Fuck...that was so hot."
Between gasps for air you laughed. This isn't exactly what you planned, but you had absolutely no complaints about the outcome.
"So..." you slowly sat up, "are we like fuck buddies now? Or are you just going to keep finding ways to pop my cherry?"
"Hmm," Ellie pursed her lips sarcastically, "I can be whatever you want me to be."
Giggling, you playfully shoved her from you and began to search for your clothes. The soreness in your legs and muscles in general already began to hit.
"Actually, fuck buddies could be fun."
You whipped your head around to find Ellie with her jeans unbuttoned and barely over her hips, baby hairs stuck to her forehead and taking a long sip of her water. Emerald eyes watching your every move with an everlasting desire.
"Whatever Williams."
"I'll take that as a yes."
Finally, you finished redressing and joined her on the loveseat to recoup, her eyes still watched you, "Quit being a little shit, we have to finish patrol."
She kissed her teeth, "Fuck patrol...I wanna know when I can finish you again."
Your jaw nearly slammed onto the floor.
"Oh my god Ellie!"
"Okay okay, I'm done. Let's get going."
With that, you both gathered your items and prepared to face the roaming infected that still plagued the outskirts of Jackson.
You should've expected Ellie to smack your ass on the way out the door.
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