#ofc i don't have money for new rock
Text
november-based "me" moodboard
(if i'm being honest, it should be called all-year-when-it's-not-summer-based)
#ofc i don't have money for new rock#but a girl can dream#jjjviiippp personal#girlblogging#girlblogger
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
yard work - chapter 1 (regina george x reader)
fandom:
Mean Girls (all media)
pairing:
Regina George x OFC/Reader
summary:
You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.
chapter 2
Summers spent cleaning the Georges' pool, mowing their lawn, fixing up their garage door, and giving the odd oil change to one of their cars was the norm for you. Your father had made it big as a self-made entrepreneur, climbing the ladder rung by rung all the way up from rock bottom, but he had ensured your upbringing reflected his humble roots. That meant that while you never had to go hungry like he did, your allowance was minimal. Enough for school lunch and a few dollars to spare.
Doing odd jobs around the neighbourhood had been your primary means of making money for the last couple of years. The block was pretty fancy, so not everybody wanted to hire some twerp with no experience when a professional was easily available. Even so, rich folk were surprisingly stingy. You had your own equipment, didn't ask for much and had a familiar face. The Georges were your longest-standing clients. Mowing their lawn in summer and shovelling their driveway in winter had been your job since you were thirteen.
That was probably the reason why Regina kept her distance instead of ridiculing you like everybody else. You went to the same high school, Northshore, but that was pretty much it. You hung around your own (loser) ilk and she had her (cool) troupe. She had this odd little clique with Gretchen Wieners and Karen Smith. You didn't know much about the two girls and you couldn't really tell if Regina even liked them. They hung out so they had to have something in common, right? You were but an observer at the end of the day, no matter how your neighbourly vantage point gave you a glimpse into Regina's life.
You counted her ignoring you as a blessing. It would've cut deep to fall victim to her new ways. This persona wasn't that new, you had to admit, but when you'd known her since practically diapers, high school was a pretty new development. She'd never been what people would describe as sweet or nice, but this mean girl persona was on a whole other level.
To be fair, you could very well understand why Regina was the way she was. You knew Mr George. You'd sat at the same dinner table as him, had experienced first-hand how his presence weighed on his family. Especially on Regina. Your father was the same way, all sharp edges with no time for tenderness, not even- especially not for his daughter. That'd been the reason you'd gotten so close to Regina in the first place. Most of the time it was just Regina, her mom and you at their house. Mrs George left you two by yourselves a lot 'cause she had to take care of Kylie. You loved being at the Georges' house.
(Expect, of course, those select few times Mr George was also there. But that was rare. Regina didn't invite you over when he was home.)
And now it'd been reduced to this. You, fishing leaves from the pool. Regina, inside with her new friends. Mrs George, lounging on the patio with a virgin margarita, chatting with you when you rounded the pool closer to her. Kylie, probably in the sitting room dancing along to whatever they played on MTV.
You straightened from your slouched position and groaned at the ache in your back. You leaned back with your hands braced at your sides, trying to stretch out the crick.
"Mrs George?" You hollered and waved your arms in her direction.
"Yes, dear?" She brightened up, perching up in her sun bed.
"You mind if I put my headphones on while I mow the lawn?"
"Oh, sure, of course!" She waved a hand dismissively. "Remember the glasses! And once you're done why don't you have dinner with us?"
"I'll think about it, Mrs George." You smiled with thin lips, knowing you'd be turning the offer down. With that, you plugged your headphones into the Walkman at your hip and walked to the shed.
You wore the safety glasses obediently, knowing all it took to blind you was one unlucky pebble to the eye. Your dad had been sure to lecture you about workplace safety over the years, like every time you stepped foot in the shop, so at this point putting on embarrassing safety equipment was second nature.
The Georges had a big lawn. Stingy rich people, couldn't get one of those driveable mowers. You'd be pushing this cart around till nightfall, or something...
Usher's newest album blasting in your ears and the rumbling of the lawn mower muffling all background noise, you didn't notice her at first. By the time you caught sight of Regina standing on the patio stairs, looking your way, hands on her hips and a displeased frown on her lips, you feared you were too late.
You let the engine die and tugged your headphones away from your ears. "What?" You yelled across the pool.
She rolled her eyes before answering. "Mom wants you in for dinner."
"Oh," This had never happened before. Usually, Mrs George would come round to give you your payment, ask you to stay and you'd say no. She'd smile sadly and say "Maybe next time, sweetie".
"She made casserole," Regina said, inspecting her nails. What was for dinner was definitely not the reason for your hesitation.
"Uh, I don't wanna intrude-"
"You wouldn't have been invited if it was an intrusion, idiot." She cut in sharply. "Don't be rude." And so, she swept inside.
"Uh- I- I'll finish up as fast as I can!"
#mean girls#mean girls musical#mean girls movie#mean girls 2004#mean girls 2024#regina george#regina george x reader#regina george x you#regina george x oc#regina george x ofc#mean girls x reader#wlw#lesbian regina george#fic: yard work
502 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hooked On A Feeling
Chapter Twenty-Four - Milo's Birthday
Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.
Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)
1.5K
Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader
Series Masterlist
That night, the night after her run in with Kerry-Ann, she found herself at the kitchen table. Her old, beaten up laptop sat open in front of her and she typed away, writing her story.
She hadn't opened her laptop since their Monaco trip. A small glass on wine sat on the placemat beside her laptop. She brought it to her lips, finishing off the glass before she put it back down and returned to her writing.
"Momma?"
Her head snapped towards the door. "Munchkin, what're you doing up?" She asked as she saved her work and closed her laptop (every time she did, it was a wonder whether it would turn back on again).
Milo slipped into the seat opposite her, sitting on his hands. He rocked gently from side to side as he looked at his mother. "My bed at Danny's house is comfier," he muttered. It wasn't Milo's bed, just the bed in the guest bedroom that had been decorated with enough stuffed toys that the bed beneath was barely visible.
But it might has well have been Milo's bed.
"He'll be back soon, munchkin," she said and pushed her laptop away. "I miss him and Olivia, too."
Leaving her laptop on the table, she put her glass in the sink with the rest of the dishes and waited for Milo to stand up. Together, they headed back upstairs. She tucked Milo in and headed to her own bedroom.
It was the middle of the day in whichever part of the world Daniel was in. She called him, holding the phone to her ear as she called him.
It didn't take Daniel very long to pick up. The moment she heard his voice, she couldn't hide the elation she was filled with. Not that she had anybody to hide it from.
"Hey, honey," he said. Daniel sat outside of the AlphaTauri hospitality unit, coffee in front of him.
"Hi, Danny," she said quietly. "I miss you."
"I miss you, too," He replied.
She didn't want to bring up her unpleasant encounter with Kerry-Ann. Not yet, anyway. They talked, talked about how the Grand Prix weekend was going, talked about how Milo had been enjoying school since he left
"He misses you, too," she said to him, and Daniel chucked. There was nothing she could have said to him that would have made him happier. "Danny, we need to talk about something."
From across the world, she couldn't see as his face fell. "What's the matter? Did something happen? Is it Olivia?"
"No, no," she said quickly. "No, Danny. I had a run in with Kerry-Ann earlier. And I know it's stupid, I know she was just trying to get into my head, but I can't stop thinking about what she said to me."
"What did she say to you?" He asked. He had sat up straighter in his seat, his posture tense.
She sucked in a breath. "First she... she accused me of being with you for your money. Which, I swear I'm not interested in you for money, Danny. I love the person you are inside, I swear."
"It's okay, sweets. I know. She was the one with me for my money, not you. I know you're not." He let out a breath. "What else did she say?"
Guilt ran through her. She knew this bit wasn't true, either. She knew how Daniel felt about her. But still, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about it. "She said that you don't love me," she said. "She said that you won't ever love me."
Silence. That was maybe the worst thing he could have done. Daniel said nothing. He didn't say a single thing to her for a good minute. Oh God, she was going to throw up.
But then Daniel let out a breath. "I did love Kerry-Ann. I loved her enough to have a child about her. But she showed who she really was after Olivia was born. I can't love someone that awful. She's got it in head that it's impossible I don't love her. So she thinks I can't love."
He paused, giving her a second to soak it in. "She's wrong, though. She thinks I can't love, but I love you so much that sometimes, I don't understand how it's possible. I don't understand how I can be so in love with another human being. But I am. I'm in love with you and I can't wait to buy you a ring."
She couldn't stop herself from gasping. "You don't mean that."
"Fuck, baby, I do. I've been gone a day and I just can't stop thinking about you. I know it might be soon but I can't help but dream about a future with you."
She couldn't stop herself from crying, sobs muffled by her pillow. "I can't wait for you to come home," she said through her cries.
Now, their reunion after the Grand Prix weekend was exactly what you'd think it would be. It was sweet and loving. Daniel took the four of them out for dinner and then, well, he didn't let her out of bed very much after that.
The next two months were bliss. Pure bliss.
With every Grand Prix that went by, things got a little easier. Nothing Kerry-Ann said could affect her, not when she knew how much Daniel loved her.
But then they ran into a bump. Daniel hadn't thought to ask when Milo's birthday was. But they were coming up to a year ad still, Milo hadn't celebrated his sixth birthday yet.
But then, a few weeks before the Vegas Grand Prix, she started coming home with presents. She snuck them into the house and hid them under the bed they shared.
"What's this?" He asked, watching the third time she pushed a toy beneath the bed.
She sat up and dusted off her hands. "Presents. For Milo's birthday."
Daniel moved closer to her. "Honey, when is Milo's birthday?" He asked. He had several Grand Prix coming up; he just had to hope that Milo's birthday didn’t fall on one of those weekends.
"23rd," she answered.
"What, November?"
"November."
"Fuck!" Daniel couldn't stop himself, couldn't stop the words escaping his lips. "Shit, baby. I'm in Vegas that weekend." His head fell against his shoulder and he let out a huff. "I'm gonna get him something good, I promise."
She ran her fingers through his curls. "I know you will, Danny," she said and kissed his forehead.
"I'll arrange for a party, too. And then we can do some when I'm back."
That was exactly how Daniel spent the next few weeks, planning and arranging Milo's birthday. Just like Olivia's birthday, he arranged for a custom made cake. There was a bouncy castle, a magician and more. Daniel was going to do whatever he could to give Milo the best birthday ever.
Milos birthday came around and Daniel wasn't there. Milo said he understood, but everybody could tell just how upset he was. Even more so when Kerry-Ann refused to bring Olivia to the party.
He spent most of his party in his bedroom. The bouncy castle, the custom made cake, the magician. He wanted none of it if his family wasn't all there together.
So Milo didn't enjoy his birthday on the day he turned six. He missed Daniel, he missed Olivia, enjoying it was near impossible. But he did enjoy the cake, the dinosaur cake Daniel had gotten for him.
Daniel was home the next day. He picked Olivia up from her mothers on the way and took them back to his home. Where she was waiting. With sweet, sweet Milo.
"Don't tell Milo, okay Livvy?" Daniel said to her as they pulled up outside. "It's meant to be a surprise."
Olivia mimmicked locking her lips and throwing away the key. She pulled her backpack onto her shoulders and followed her father up to the house. "Did you have fun at the party?" He asked as he pushed the key into the lock and twisted it.
"Oh, mummy wouldn't let me go to the party," she said and walked in, running up to her bedroom.
"What?!" Daniel cried as he dropped his bags.
His shout alone got the attention of everybody in the house. Milo came running down stairs (after his reunion with Olivia) to jump into his arms and she, his beautiful, wonderful girlfriend, came from the kitchen.
Daniel hugged Milo and let him go as he strode towards her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he held her waist. "Hi, baby," she said and kisssd him.
Daniel kissed her back, but pulled away quickly. "Kerry-Ann didn't let her come to Milo's party," he muttered. "That bitch didn't let Olivia go to the party."
"It's okay," she whispered, running her hands through his hair in a soothing manner. "It's okay. We're gonna go and have a nice dinner tonight, right?"
He nodded. "Right. Yeah. Really nice dinner."
Daniel wanted full custody of Olivia. More than anything in the world, he wanted full custody. But, first, he was gonna marry this girl.
a/n: we have reached the penultimate chapter of the Hooked On A Feeling series!! One more to go (but im definitely doing a follow up series dw)
TAGLIST (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minseok-smaus @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lily-ann-b @cixrosie @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @lightdragonrayne @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow
#daniel ricciardo#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo fluff#daniel ricciardo smut#daniel ricciardo x reader smut#daniel ricciardo x you#dr3#dr3 imagine#dr3 x reader#f1#formula one#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula one imagine#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine
564 notes
·
View notes
Text
—On Your Mind
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader/OFC
Summary: You watch her across the room, eyes heavy-lidded and the edge of a red solo cup resting against your lips. It doesn't matter that a sea of bodies separates the two of you. It doesn't even matter that there's someone else in front of you right now, trying to get your attention. The sight of Wanda fighting with her boyfriend always caught your eye.
Warnings: Toxic Behaviour. Infidelity. Spicy but not explicit content. Toxic!Reader. Tony—should get therapy but throws a party instead. Natasha—trying to be a good person. Vision—is a loser.
Note: JLKSDFJSk I wish I could explain this but I can't. Inspired by the song #icanteven - the neighbourhood
Main Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3
You do NOT have permission to repost or translate my work on any other platforms (even with credit)
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
The music pumped so loudly that you could feel the bass thrumming along your skin. It was electric, and the only thing that soothed you right now was when the taste of the bourbon in your red solo cup slid down your throat with ease.
You found it kind of funny that Stark rented out an entire club, buying the most tasteful liquor but refused the glasses and shelled out money for red solo cups instead. You had teased him, saying he was looking to relive his youthful days, but Stark insisted it was because it would get more expensive when people got too drunk and broke the glasses one way or another.
You didn't blame him. Stark was a particularly stressed individual, even if he hid it behind his snarky remarks and flippant personality. But that was what you especially liked about him.
"Are you having fun?"
You hold your cup out to Natasha, letting her pour you another bourbon on ice.
"So much," you replied flatly, looking her in the eye as she smiled. "It's almost crazy how much I can't contain my excitement."
Natasha laughed, tipping her cup towards you, and you bumped yours against hers in cheers. Once the two of you took a generous sip of your drinks, Natasha sighed as she leaned against the counter.
"You didn't have to come tonight," Natasha drawled. "Stark throws one of these every year. He won't even know if you're missing one."
"Thanks for blatantly lying to my face." You smirked. "But with his neurotic personality? I'd be getting phone calls all night if I didn't show up."
Natasha only chuckles in response, and you know that she knows that you're correct. She turned to you, about to say something else, when she noticed a glint in your eye. Following your line of gaze, Natasha only sighed.
Across the room, past the many bodies of people dancing, was Wanda arguing tersely with her boyfriend.
"Stop," Natasha warned you, flicking the side of your head. You turned to look at her with a raised brow.
"Stop what?" You asked innocently.
Natasha rolled her eyes. "You know exactly what." Her nose is scrunched up in mild displeasure. "Stop staring at Wanda and Vision fighting. They're really on the rocks lately, and your flirting with her has been making it worse."
You shrugged, uncaring. "Wanda hasn't told me to stop." You smirked again. "And from the looks of it over there, she might need someone hitting on her to lift her spirits."
Natasha bumped her shoulder against yours, shoving you slightly in reprimand. "Don't you feel bad at all?" She sighed. "Vision isn't...a terrible guy and everyone can tell you make him feel...small."
"I think it would take me having a second heart to feel remotely bad for him," you rolled your eyes and then scoffed. "He's not a terrible guy, but I wouldn't exactly say he's awesome either. He's so condescending to Wanda."
Natasha only fidgets uncomfortably at your words, unable to fight against them. It was hard when Natasha thought back to Wanda's muted behavior this last year. You wouldn't have known being new to the group, but Wanda used to be so full of laughter and mischief. Now, she was so serious and, well, drab.
"Still," Natasha bit her lip. "They're dating and Wanda doesn't seem like she's come to her senses about breaking up with him."
"Maybe she just needs a little push," you quipped with a shrug.
"If that were the case, the constant love confessions she gets would've woken her up already," Natasha pointed out dryly. "Wanda's not unaware that she's an incredibly attractive girl." Natasha left out the part that begs the question of why she stayed with a guy like Vision in the first place.
"Yes, but she's told all those dudes to fuck off," you grinned, swirling the bourbon in your cup. "So, maybe," you licked your lips, eyeing the two arguing across the room, "she needs a little push from someone whose interest she's entertaining."
Natasha sighed, grumbling obscenities under her breath before she looked at you with unimpressed eyes. "I want no part of whatever you're planning to do tonight." With that, Natasha gave you a look before she walked away.
You laughed as you began to walk off in the other direction.
"Well, if it makes you feel better, I have no plan!"
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
Wanda glanced at you. It was her 29th time since arriving at this stupid party. She hadn't wanted to come at all, not feeling social in the slightest lately.
But Vision had insisted since he's been friends with Tony since they were young. Vision never missed any outgoing Tony planned, and sometimes it drove Wanda mad. It was a point of contention how often Vision would choose Tony over her needs.
Wanda never blamed Tony since he was unaware it was a problem in the first place. Unless Vision told his childhood friend, and Tony was blatantly ignoring it and continuing on with the constant events and invites.
The dimmed lighting and pumping music gave Wanda a slight headache, and she was about to turn to Vision to tell him they could only stay for an hour because, despite trying to convince her boyfriend to not go, big events like this were impossible to not go to.
"Vis," Wanda kept her tone even. "I'm serious, I want to go home after an hour—two at the most."
"Wanda," Vision sighed as if she were being completely unreasonable. "You know these only happen once a year. Just—try to enjoy yourself, okay?"
Wanda didn't reply with anything in return, only tersely nodding her head. If she opened her mouth now, she would undoubtedly say something that would cause another spat between them, which has been happening a lot as of late. It just seemed like every little thing was a cause for an argument. Half the time, Wanda didn't even remember what they were fighting about by the time they had their next argument (which would be soon after).
Wanda pursed her lips. Well...that wouldn't be an exact truth.
Lately, the fights have been centering around a few focus topics. Vision's lack of attentiveness, Wanda's nagging, and you.
It was bad, Wanda knew. She really shouldn't be indulging your witty banter, lingering looks, and grazing touches. Honestly, it was probably already considering cheating how much your attention charmed her.
It was just the right amount of flirting. Friendly and obvious but not disrespectful.
"I'm going to go find Tony. Do you want to come along?"
"No." Wanda answered shortly and shook her head.
Vision sighed deeply through his nose, pinching the space between his brows. "Fine," he gritted, trying to avoid another argument. "Just stay here and enjoy yourself then. I'll come find you later."
"It's hard to enjoy myself when I have a headache, Vis," Wanda glared at him.
"Then you should've taken an Advil before you came—" Vision started to raise his voice but immediately cut himself short. He muttered to himself as if he were trying to calm himself down. "I don't know what you want me to do, Wanda. We're here, so let's just do our best, okay? I'll see if Tony has some Advil."
"I want to go home, Vis," Wanda emphasized because she was sure Advil wasn't going to fix her mood. She had a tight feeling in her stomach that this party would be a mistake.
Wanda looked over her shoulder again and found your eyes on her. They were aloof as you stared, and you weren't even paying attention to the girl talking in front of you. A chill scratched down Wanda's arms, her skin rising to goosebumps.
That was probably why Wanda entertained it. You made her feel seen, and Wanda had never felt so seen by someone as much as she did when you looked at her.
"Jesus Christ, Wanda. I wouldn't have insisted on you coming if I knew you were going to be so miserable to be around," Vision grunted.
Wanda sharply turned back to Vision, her eyes flashing dangerously.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
The song changes. The calypso beat and reverse guitar sound ring in your ears compellingly.
You've been leaning against the back wall for a while now, nursing that bourbon drink Natasha poured for you earlier. The club is hazy with flashing blue lights, making it easier for you to be a wallflower.
Well, almost.
"I didn't think we'd get to see each other again. I thought about texting you, but I don't know. I felt weird since you haven't texted me. But I mean, what a coincidence, right? I would've never guessed you knew Tony too."
You hummed, barely paying attention to the brunette in front of you.
Wanda was still fighting with Vision, and honestly, you were quite impressed. They arrived almost half an hour ago, and they're still managing to fight in a club with deafening music.
Your index finger tapped against your red solo cup along with the beat of the music idly. Natasha's probably right, and you shouldn't look at Wanda anymore. You have a perfectly nice woman in front of you now, eager to talk with you and probably would go home with you without too much work.
But Wanda Maximoff was a vice, and she had you in an unyielding grip.
You watch her across the room, eyes heavy-lidded and the edge of a red solo cup resting against your lips. It doesn't matter that a sea of bodies separates the two of you. It doesn't even matter that there's someone else in front of you right now, trying to get your attention. The sight of Wanda fighting with her boyfriend always caught your eye.
Vision threw his arms up in frustration and defeat before he walked off. Wanda turned her head, eyes catching yours in a glint, and you smirked behind your cup.
And the sight of you staring at her fighting with her boyfriend had always caught Wanda's eye.
"That's lovely," you muttered half-heartedly to the girl in front of you, passing her your cup as you stood straight. "You like bourbon, right? You should enjoy yourself and I'll catch you later."
You heard the call of your name, but you're already navigating through the crowd of bodies.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
A warm hand slid into Wanda's, fingers tracing her palm before interlocking.
"Hey."
The husk voice and puff of air hit the shell of Wanda's ear, and she turned around as if she hadn't been waiting for you. The smell of bourbon and the citrus smell of Neroli Portofino hits her nose. She almost sighs contentedly but bites down her tongue instead.
"Hey," Wanda leaned in towards your ear to say back.
Your thumb traced the thenar of her palm while staring into her eyes, searching for something—and god, Wanda hoped you found the answer because she couldn't verbally give you one.
"Wanna dance?" You asked her, but you're already dragging her out onto the dance floor, between the sea of bodies, obscuring them from view.
You pulled Wanda into your body, all her parts pressed against you perfectly. Your hands on her waist, squeezing tightly once.
Headache?
Wanda felt like such a liar. She was feeling something else—something that traveled much lower. Something that Advil couldn't fix.
This was a terrible, terrible idea.
And Wanda blamed Vision for it. He really should've just taken her home.
Wanda turned around in your arms, her back pressed against you as she ground against you along with the beat. Her hips sway while your hand caresses her shoulder, trailing down her arm.
Your lips grazed the shell of her ear, ghosting down her neck, and suddenly the flirting didn't feel so friendly anymore.
Your hand enclosed Wanda's, and her head fell backward, eyes fluttering close as she leaned against you, moving with the music.
"You're so pretty," you muttered in her ear, and she almost couldn't hear it over the music. Wanda's hand tightened around yours, and she could feel the rumble of your chuckle. "Are you even thinking of him?"
Wanda's eyes snapped open as she looked at your piercing gaze and felt herself grow feverish.
Guilt filled her because, no, Vision hadn't crossed her mind once until you brought him up.
"I—" Wanda started to say, but nothing else would come out.
"Must've been a pretty bad fight." You kissed the junction of her neck and shoulder. "He's a shitty, shitty guy. Otherwise, he'd cross your mind even a little."
Wanda felt you grip her chin, tilting her head down to stare straight ahead, and her stomach dropped.
"But I guess you're pretty mean too, Wanda. I mean, you're probably the only thing on his mind right now and you're not even thinking of him a little," you chuckled, and Wanda shouldn't feel so flushed with how callous it sounded.
A couple of people have moved off the dance floor, giving Wanda the perfect line of sight to see Vision—or for Vision to see her, she supposed.
He stood there with a bottle of Advil; his face was grim.
But he didn't move, and neither did Wanda.
They stood there, staring at each other.
"Don't think that bottle of Advil is gonna help him," you mused. "He looks sick to his stomach."
You nudged her to stand straighter, causing her to look at you. "Wanna get some fresh air, or do you wanna go be miserable with him?" You gave her a choice, despite your taunting words. Your grip on her hand loosened, only giving Wanda a split second to decide.
Wanda tightens her hold on your hand. "No, it's pretty hot in here."
You gave her a lopsided smile as you began to tug her in the opposite direction of Vision, and Wanda followed, only turning her head back once to look at Vision's grim face as he gripped the Advil bottle.
Wanda leaves, and he doesn't follow.
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
Wanda moaned against your mouth as you pressed her against the wall of the club in the alleyway. Her fingers slid against your jaw, pulling you closer as she consumed your lips over and over.
She hated the taste of bourbon, but it tasted so fucking good on your tongue. Wanda wanted to concentrate on only one thing, and that was just how good it felt to have your hands sliding up her waist, ruffling her shirt as your thumb pressed against her ribs.
But fuck, you were making it really hard for Wanda to feel the pleasure guiltless.
"So pretty," the words from your lips tumble into Wanda's mouth. "Think about you all the time. Can't believe you're with such a dickhead."
"Not right now I'm not," Wanda quipped, capturing your lips.
The words made you chuckle, and you squeezed her in your hands. "Not right now?" You mused. "Are you saying you're going to go back to him?" You peppered kisses along her jawline.
"Are you telling me Vision's gonna take you back after he looked like he was going to throw up?" You pulled back just slightly to look Wanda in the eyes. Her chest rose and fell in deep pants, lips plump and cheeks flushed.
You brush your lips against hers, pressing lightly as if to test the connection between the two of you. "He's probably standing there like a fucking moron thinking about how could you do this to him."
Wanda surged forward, deepening the kisses as she firmly pulled you closer. Her grip was possessive and intense, and she just wanted you to shut up.
"Natasha asked me earlier if I even feel bad," you pulled away, shifting your hands to thread through Wanda's hair, gripping her head to pull her into another lust-driven kiss.
Wanda moaned.
"I don't," you told her. "I don't even feel a little bad."
Your thumb stroked Wanda's swollen lips. Really, she was so fuckin' pretty.
Wanda raised her brow at you. "Are you gonna talk about him all night? If you keep making me think about him, I might just go running back right now."
You chuckled, pulling her into a rough kiss, teeth dragging at her lower lip, and Wanda whimpered. You soothed it over with your tongue, hearing her soft sigh.
"Let's not make empty threats. You and I both know who's always on your mind. Does that make you feel bad?"
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
You woke up to an empty bed, but you weren't surprised.
You checked your phone to see a bunch of texts from Tony to see if you were awake and sighed deeply, sending a quick message back.
Another thing you hated about the yearly parties was the brunch date the next day.
You lingered in the shower, your fingers running over the dark hickeys that littered your neck and collarbones.
By the time you made it, you were the last person.
"There you are!" Tony dramatically scowled at you, pointing his fork threateningly at you to sit down.
You took the seat next to Natasha, getting a questioning look from her with her brow raised. You winked at her before looking ahead.
Wanda and Vision sat together cozily, her head on his shoulder while his arm was around her.
Vision was pointedly ignoring your existence, but Wanda looked at your amused gaze that trailed the matching hickeys on her neck poorly covered with concealer, raising her brow in challenge.
"Man," Tony groaned, rubbing his face. "I feel like shit today. Anyone else feel bad?"
There were mumbles here and there in response.
Wanda just stared at you before she soundly said, "No. I feel just fine."
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff imagine#natasha romanoff x reader#wanda maximoff x y/n#wanda maximoff angst#avengers imagine#scarlet witch imagine#scarlet witch x reader#wanda maximoff fanfiction#Elizabeth olsen x reader#mm: my fics
728 notes
·
View notes
Text
Faceless Fixation (Sal Fisher): Beg For It [21]
TW: smut :P
_______________
dacnorthxx started following you.
sallysusedtoiletpaper: VI WHO IS THIS WHO IS NORTH WHY IS THIS INTERACTION GIVING ME LIFE???
t0ddles2: @sallysusedtoiletpaper frontman of dark autumn complex
sallysusedtoiletpaper: @t0ddles2 oh omg ok... I've never heard of them are they any good??
ashypoops: I haven't heard of them either. What genre? More importantly DOES VI HAVE HER VERY FIRST SHIP
toodswithoutthed: @ashypoops I WAS ABOUT TO ASK BC THE CHEMISTRY!?!? they're obsessed w each other... I went stalk his profile. Ship name options: northlence, violeth...
t0ddles2: they're rock/metal. even if u don't like the genre, they're worth a listen
sallysusedtoiletpaper: WORD I just followed him and their band account >:3 also @toodswithoutthed I'm personally a fan of violeth. I'm linking this shit in the faces fan discord
ashypoops: THERE'S A FAN DISCORD??? can u send me an invite pooks🥺
sallysusedtoiletpaper: @ashypoops ofc😘
sallysusedtoiletpaper: OMFG SOMEONE BEAT ME TO THE CHAT EVERYONE KNOWS NOOOOOO
———
Yea, so I lost my job. Big shocker.
Once my boss found out that I dipped mid-shift, the text was typed out and sent by the evening.
In any other situation, I'd be fucked. Indefinitely. Completely broke and flailing to get a new job. In fact, that was my first thought. As soon as I got the text, I clicked onto my bank account to check how much I'd have to live off of until I found a new job--
--only to find out that I had over $2,000 just sitting around, which was such a nice surprise. I don't think I've ever had so much money to my name before in my entire life. And all the transactions were straight from all my streaming apps. All within the past two weeks since being back in LA.
To say the least, losing my job couldn't have happened at a better time. Now, I can put my focus into something I actually enjoy doing.
But first, a trip to Nockfell, which is proving to be more chaotic by the second.
"Todd, dude, there's a chemistry to this thing, okay? It's a ritual," Larry says, all seriousness and business face as he stares back into Todd's uninterested gaze. "I can't fly without it."
Todd blinks, a flash of frustrated disappointment crossing over his features. "You're not taking an edible before the flight, Lartholomew."
Ash had a ticket ready for me before she even got to LA yesterday. Her entire mastermind plan was to abduct me whether I liked it or not-- not that I would've said no to begin with. And besides, having her at the apartment to help me pack last minute made pre-flight stress non-existent.
Travis is camping out at my apartment. He was more than happy to kick me out of my own house, claiming that my bed is comfiest anyway. Regardless, he said he had no desire to return to Nockfell anyway. And dad was just excited for me to go visit considering how much I've complained about missing the little town over all these years.
Sal and I haven't spoken since his last commanding text to me. Right before his very sudden face reveal. He's caught in an almost petrifying silence-- has been since he put his prosthetic back on. I, on the other hand, very much resemble a little puppy whimpering and begging at his feet. Metaphorically, of course. I wouldn't dare to physically exploit my internal thoughts.
The really sickening truth is that I'm so desperate to see his face again that I'd trip him down a flight of stairs just to recreate yesterday's scene.
Just kidding. I don't mean that. I definitely don't.
"All our seats are kind of screwed up, so I have no idea where you're sitting, sugar." Ash pokes my cheek, her chin in her palm and elbow propped on the armrest of her seat. "I bought them kind of last minute so I took whatever they had available."
A little smile tips my lips as I turn my attention away from the grumpy smurf and focus on my stunning best friend. Her viridian irises glow with renewed joy and energy like our plans check off so many bullet points on her bucket list. "That's okay," I reply, tilting my head. "At least we actually have seats, right?"
Ash grins, her maroon shaded lips accentuating the light freckles along the bridge of her nose. "See?" she chirps, arm winding through mine to pull me closer. "You get it. When do you not get it?"
Our plane calls for us to board, and so begins the toxic, anxiety-inducing split-up of the century. I lose all The Faces somewhere in the crowded line that gathers at our gate in just a matter of seconds. That's okay though, I'll probably end up sitting with some old lady that smells like an odd mixture of peonies, Dial soap, and Lysol. You know, a funeral home and two colds away from death. So long as she's nice, I'll catch her dentures when they fall out of her gaping mouth as she naps.
Anything for MawMaw.
I hobble my way into the plane, brain set on finding my seat before stressing about all other one hundred and fifty two things I have to worry about later. People are everywhere and it's, expectedly, a huge plane. Three rows-- two seaters against each wall and a row of three seats down the middle. Sickening, really. Social anxiety's worst enemy is looking for means of escape only to be met by even more people.
I block everyone out as best as I can, pretending that the people I bump into are just very dense pieces of furniture. Or, actually, even better-- a bunch of really buff kitties. Yep, just passing through a horde of Maine Coon's and Munchkin's.
I spot row F, my pupils zeroing in on the letter like a scope on a gun. Target acquired.
The majestic way I veer around what my mind imagines is a really tall Siamese and their spouse, a yellow Persian, is something that the directors of The Matrix are pissed that they couldn't come up with. I swing my foot around a figurative pair of paws and reach my free hand out to grip onto my seat-- F20. That's right bitches, I did it.
I swing my suitcase up, somehow managing to actually get it into the overhead compartment. I give it a good shove with both of my hands and a grunt, then pull the backpack off my shoulders to keep it at my feet when I sit down.
But now that I've stopped, cats are pushing past me and it's so aggressive and rushed that they suddenly aren't sweet, fluffy kitties anymore. They're people again and I'm starting to get dragged away from my seat by this sea of shared distress.
Nimble fingers latch onto my wrist from the seat beside mine-- the seat against the window. The hand tightens around me, giving my body a good yank forward. I use the aided force to weave my way around a few more people up until the hand pulls me into my seat.
I huff out a breath, pushing my hair out of the eyeholes of my mask. And begrudgingly, I turn my head to meet bright cerulean hair.
Sal isn't looking at me, he's facing the window. His entire stature gives off a mixture of unbothered and ashamed. He shouldn't feel that second one-- never. Granted, he shouldn't feel angry half as much as he does but that's besides the point.
Ever since it happened, I could tell that the abrupt exposure of his face has been heavily weighing on him. I don't owe this man a single thing-- he's been awful to me in so many ways, but I give credit where credit is due. Not only did he own up and apologize to me yesterday, he helped me to my seat... and he is handsome. Regardless of how he views himself.
He's my biggest enemy and I, his. But if I plan on getting fucked during my visit to Nockfell, I have to give him the Beating of Truth.
"So," I mumble, chewing on the inside of my cheek. If you couldn't tell, I'm absolutely forcing myself to do this even though it's the last thing I want to do. "How are we working around Ash, Larry, and Todd when we get to Nockfell?"
Sal's head tips up a bit, like he's wondering to himself if I actually just spoke to him. Then his head pivots sideways so that he can side-eye me.
"What?" He asks, voice genuinely shocked and confused. It makes my heart stutter a bit. Any time he speaks in a tone that isn't aggressive, it completely reboots my system.
"How are we going to follow through with this arrangement?" I try again, simplifying it into Sal terms. He has a wide vocabulary range; maybe using bigger words will snap some sense into him. For added effect, I lean onto the armrest separating him and I, trying to show that he doesn't repulse me or anything of the sort.
Sal doesn't move away, instead, he adjusts his body so that he can address me. Fully turns his prosthetic face to me and settles into his seat. I didn't realize how tense he was when I first sat down, but watching him relax now shows me how much my simple mention of our agreement settled his mental turmoil.
He's quiet for a moment, eyes dancing across my mask and body before his gaze meets mine again. "You still want to?" he finally decides to ask, eyebrows lifting beneath his prosthetic.
"Yea," I snort, scrunching my nose up as if his question is ridiculous. "Why wouldn't I?"
Okay, stupid question. I know the answer and the words came out before I could stop them. In more ways than others, that was a genuine response though. I can't accept that Sal would be so put off by his own appearance because I truly think it's so lovely. I have to remember though that not everyone sees themselves the way I see them though.
Sal's brows bunch together again, his eyes narrowing. "Stupid fucking question," he echoes my own thoughts, voice even and void of tone. Whoopsie.
I roll my own eyes, sighing. "Well, to settle the whole debacle," I start, aiming to just bite the bullet and extinguish the awkwardness and misplaced fear vibrating between us. "I think you're quite the catch."
Friendly banter is weird. Borderline uncomfortable, but... not quite. Just so that I'm ready to get this over with but I'd be prepared for it to happen again.
A nasally snort leaves Sal and he rotates his head so that he's facing the pair of seats in front of us.
"So," he prods, ignoring my statement. "North?"
Mission success. I know he'll never admit it and he doesn't need to, but I think he appreciates the compliment.
"What's it to you?" I counter, adjusting my position in turn. I sit criss-cross applesauce in my seat, making sure my feet don't touch Sal because God forbid. "You still get to fuck me."
"Not much," he says lowly, hand moving to ruffle up his fringe. There's that dagger tattoo again. And then his head tilts just a bit, haunting sapphire blue piercing straight through my soul like the weapon etched onto his skin. "But you're mine. North can't give you even an ounce of what I can."
Fuzzy fingers, a pounding heart, and the worst case of cold sweats possible dominates my body for the rest of the flight. My brain replays that statement over and over again, plaguing me with recurring physical reactions like I've just heard it in real life again. I wish he hadn't said anything at all if it was going to leave me like this.
Neither of us said another word. The only sound between the two of us was the constant cracking of my knuckles accompanied by me putting my feet on the ground-- then sitting criss-cross again-- then having to readjust again and again and again. He left me quite literally restless and I'm sure he's relishing in just the knowledge of it.
Landing in Nockfell was a quick divergence from bubbly hearted affliction in my being. A good distraction from Sal.
Perpetual autumn. Nockfell never gets too hot or cold. The air is always misty, the sky always grey and cloudy. Tall, ever-growing trees dominate both night and day, stealing all the light from the sun and hiding it in their leafy treetops. Nockfell houses the kind of atmosphere that I've dreamt of returning to for years now; the gentle eeriness and chill that I've longed to bask in ever since I left.
We step out of the airport and into the small parking lot where a suspiciously blue haired man is waving at us with a big, dad-like grin on his face. Not a question in my mind. That's Sal's dad-- the cropped, receding cerulean hair was the first obvious sign but as we grow closer, his bright azure eyes are the second giveaway.
"Wassup, daddio!" Larry exclaims, wrapping Sal's father up in a huge bear hug (which is so Emo Buff Daddy of him). I nearly forgot that Sal's dad, who I now know as Henry, is also Larry's step-dad. Crazy.
"Not much, big guy!" Henry chuckles, rubbing Larry's back affectionately once the hug comes to an end. He pats Larry's shoulder, that big smile still on his aged face. "You guys brought the friend back! Convinced her to come huff up our humid air?"
Henry moves over to Ash, Todd, and then Sal to hug all of them. He purposefully places a discreet kiss on top of Sal's head before turning to me.
He holds his arms open suggestively and my heart flutters. "You okay with hugs?" He asks me. "Everyone's family here."
A grin of my own sneaks onto my face as I take a little step toward Henry and wrap my arms around his middle.
Henry's arms latch around my body, shielding me from the moist, heavy air of Nockfell and anything else that could possibly hurt me here. His embrace is so comforting, so familiar, so protective that tears I've been holding back for weeks suddenly rush to the surface.
I love my own dad, he's perfect, but being hugged by his near doppelgänger reminds me of how much I miss him. I wish dad and I weren't apart so often. But that'll change soon with the money I'm making.
I don't allow myself to weep, I hide the tears and pull away from the comforting hug I needed so desperately to smile sweetly at Henry. Lovely man, his own smile widens.
The group of us piles into Henry's old 2000 Nissan Pathfinder to navigate around Nockfell.
We first stop at Ash's place-- a home I haven't seen in a decade now. Everything is so nostalgic-- the tall, two story, white-painted, wooden home and the canopy of evil-looking trees that hide it from the road reminds me of a time that's been ripped away from me.
Ash leans on the door of Henry's SUV, the window down for her to speak to me before she disappears. "I'll come by Sal's or the apartments later to scoop you up, 'kay? Parents and I have a meeting with some guys to transfer ownership of some things to me before the move." She chews on her lip, a deep yearning in her pretty eyes. "I'd let you stay with me if I could."
I shake my head at her-- I don't want her to feel guilty for handling business. "No that's okay." I tell her sweetly, grabbing onto her hand. "I'll kickback with the guys."
Ash smiles, squeezing my hand in hers before breaking off to head to her house.
Now, I never imagined I'd end up coming back to Nockfell in general, but to stand in Sal Fisher's home? These were even more improbable odds.
And worse, Todd suddenly slips out of the house with the very mean (he's ditching me!) excuse of meeting with Neil for a late lunch. That just leaves me, Larry, and Sal standing in the spacious kitchen of their shared two-story home. It's quaint, roomy, and pretty nice. I imagine it's kept up specifically because Sal tends to it.
And Sal, he doesn't say anything. Which is typical behavior from him. He only, swiftly, spins on his heels, luggage in hand, and disappears into a room right past the stairs. Okay, fair. It's late in the afternoon-- naptime.
And now it's down to two.
I look to Larry with a grin. And he's grinning back excitedly, wiggling around like an antsy child who's about to go on a field trip.
"I can't believe we managed to get you over here," he whisper-yells, screaming silently. You know, just open-mouthed and head tipped to the ceiling in pure excitement.
"Even Copernicus wouldn't be able to debunk this turn of events," I joke, watching Larry dance around his kitchen. I put my bags down. I'm sure we'll figure out this situation later when Ash returns.
Larry opens up his refrigerator, moving around some bottles before uttering an expletive. "Ah, fuck," he hisses out, quickly lifting his head which results in him slamming said head into the freezer door. I pause, wincing, eyeing his silhouette warily while awaiting whatever he has to say next.
He resurfaces from the fridge, rubbing his aching head and chewing on his bottom lip. "I left my fucking bags in Henry's car." He curses again, glancing up at me with agitated eyes. "I have to run over to the apartments real quick." Larry starts inching away from the fridge and I feel my heart leap. How could he forget his luggage in the car? And is he really about to leave me here with the master of aggressive seduction himself? We're bound to tear this house apart either via sex or a physical fight. I just don't know which one.
"I'll be like... ten minutes at most," Lar says, squeezing past me and around the kitchen table, rerouting to the front door. He gives me a look that screams vulnerability and urgency. "Please don't kill Sal, and don't let him kill you. Okay? I'll be back in a jiffy."
I blink at him, running my tongue along the inside of my dry mouth. This is not going to go well. "Okay," I say anyway. I can already see the headline on the newspaper-- 'Masked Streamer, Sally Face, Brutally Murders and Chops Up Rising Streamer, VioletViolence, With Kitchen Knife.'
Larry nods at me, pinches his lips together in a moment of concerned hesitation, then disappears through the front door.
I stand in the empty kitchen for a moment, watching the back of Larry's head through the front door window. "In a jiffy..." I murmur to myself, recalling the most soccer-mom words I've ever heard come from Larry's vicinity. It was so odd, I mean he would never say something like that, but here we are.
The house is empty aside from myself and Sal. What the hell am I supposed to do? Watch The Office?-- well, that actually doesn't sound bad at all.
I can literally do anything I want, though. I have been given the most opportune opportunity to act upon my will as I see fit. With that in mind accompanied by the suspiciously good conversation a certain blue-haired individual and I shared on the plane, I think I have an idea of what I could do. And I know I'll have a willing partner.
This will either end in a homicide via kitchen knife or an orgasm. I'll take my chances.
A sly little grin fights its way onto my lips as I spin on my heels, trekking over to Sal's room. His door is closed, giving him an ample amount of darkness to hide in while gaming or sleeping or whatever he's doing. But for me, it's the ample amount of darkness to create a moody setting. It's perfect.
The cold, metal doorknob sits comfortably in the palm of my hand as I give myself one last chance to think about this. I really shouldn't do this, but the timing will never be this good again. With everyone moving to LA, I may never get a chance this convenient since someone will always be around.
That's the last little bit of encouragement I need to twist the knob and slowly push the plain, white painted door open.
The wood squeaks on its hinges, making Sal turn his head up from his PC. His dark, shadowed eyes meet mine. They go from curious to a bit miffed in half a second— but he doesn't say anything, really just ignores me and turns back to his setup.
My heart races. He didn't turn me away or tell me to get the fuck out of his room. That's a good start. But that also means I can actually follow through with my very sudden plan— a plan which has no plan. I didn't even brainstorm what I could do because I genuinely didn't think I'd get this far.
I watch him closely, noting the way his computer casts a cool, blue glow against his prosthetic. His hand moves the mouse around and he clicks on various things, really paying me no mind at all.
My teeth clamp onto my bottom lip as I step past the threshold of his room, grabbing hold of the door and slowly closing it behind me. Once it latches into place, I wait, simply observing the man with my back to the door. For good measure, I turn the lock. You know, just in case I manage to get somewhere.
And he still doesn't look my way. The fact that he's ignoring my presence right now makes anticipation build up within me. My heart thumps a little faster than it already has been. My cheeks feel warm, I can't keep my hands still. It's like my brain is kicked into overdrive, forcing me to take notice of every little thing.
I lick my lips and take a step forward, scratching at the skin on my knuckles. I take another step, then another, my body growing warm with anxiousness all because I may stand in front of this man, present myself to him, and come to regret it. I really might embarrass myself. Just because we agreed doesn't mean he wants me at this exact moment.
But before I'm even really prepared, I'm standing right beside him. And he's sitting there without a care in the world, comfortably propped up in his gaming chair and pulling up different comments on what looks to be YouTube.
I've done about all I can for right now, but we are on limited time. So I watch him for a moment. He has to know I'm right here— I wasn't quiet, I didn't avoid his field of vision. I'm right here.
And I still get nothing.
Time to think. Should I say something insulting? That usually gets him riled up. Maybe then, one thing will lead to another.
I bounce on my heels for a second as I think up a quick insult. "Is this how you waste your time? Figured you'd at least reply to some of your fans if you were going to read their comments. Kinda shitty of you." Low blow probably. I don't really mean it, but I'm sure he'll take it seriously. His fans mean a lot to him, it's the best way to gain his attention.
But Sal doesn't even react, only scrolls through a few replies under a comment and clicks 'like' on a some. He doesn't flinch. Doesn't look at me. Never makes a sound.
I roll my eyes. Playing hard to get are we? He fusses at me for not complying all the time— he's such a hypocritical asshole. I hate that I'm into it.
I swallow thickly, putting my hands behind my back to try and hide my nervous fidgeting. "Sal," I try, cringing a bit. That was desperation— he has to know that.
Again, nothing.
He really must be trying to piss me off, that or he isn't interested at all. But thankfully, the zero interest half doesn't stink like I was afraid it would. Instead, it spurs me into action.
He can ignore my words all he wants, but he can't ignore me.
"I'm going to touch you," I warn because consent is important. "If you don't want that, you need to tell me."
I wait a good thirty seconds but he stays silent.
I pinch my lips together then grab onto the armrest of his chair, pulling it back just enough to place my body between him and his computer. He simply looks up at me with disinterested eyes, so I go further, fueled by the spark in my soul and the rage of him purposefully pretending I'm not even there.
I take a step forward and put a gentle hand on his shoulder for balance, then easily slide myself onto his lap. His thighs are warm beneath my own, his skin smooth under my fingertips. The dark ink on his biceps contrasts beautifully with the milky color of his skin and it's quite an honor to finally run my hands over his art.
I watch the way my fingers drag down his arm then up again, returning to his shoulder. I'm on top of him and he still hasn't said a word, still hasn't touched me. At this point, I'm yearning for something— anything.
The only good sign I'm getting is that he hasn't pushed me off.
I glance up, looking into his blue eyes that are darkened by the shadows of his room. They're watching me closely, no ounce of emotion reflected in them. He's just observing.
My other hand travels to his prosthetic face, gripping onto his jaw in the way that he does to me so often. "Think you can ignore me?" I whisper, a little smirk quirking my lips despite how badly I wish I could contain it.
A slight furrowing of his brows is what I get in return.
Ha, got him.
He still doesn't say anything, but I've piqued his interest at least.
"Larry's gone," I say next, my eyes traveling to the rough prosthetic in my hands. I run my thumb over the underside of his jaw, feeling a number of scars.
"I assumed so," he says, voice a bit deeper than it normally would be and toneless like it seems to have been all day.
My gaze meets his again, and this time there's a little fire in his pretty eyes. There's desire, interest, slow-building exhilaration. I love seeing this look on him.
"Mhm," I hum, moving my other hand from his shoulder to the side of his neck. "Are you going to sit here and ignore me like the asshole you are, or are you going to have mercy on both of us?"
Sal slowly blinks, eyes traveling over my form, drinking me in like I'm the last drop of water on earth. "You called me an asshole for a reason," he bites out. "Don't expect much. Unlike you, I can actually hold out."
"But what's the point of holding out?" I counter, tilting my head to the left. "Larry's heading to the apartments. We have about ten minutes. That's enough room for one of a couple options. Stop being a little prick and do something."
"More like twenty. Larry takes his sweet ass time." Sal's eyes narrow. "You think insulting me is going to coerce me into this, you little bitch? Thought you knew our dynamic well enough by now." My words are getting to him. That's exactly what I want.
"I do know our dynamic," I whisper, leaning my head down so that my face is level with his. I look into his cerulean eyes and they gaze back at me, one pupil dilated. Then, I bend lower until I'm at the nape of his neck, his hair tickling my jaw.
I use the hand holding his face to tilt his head up and away from me, using the angle as leverage to place my lips onto his warm skin.
I hear a muffled sigh from him in response and it takes everything in me not to smile.
My mouth moves slowly along the side of his neck, placing meaningful, wet kisses along his throat. But when I get to the hilt of his tattoo, I bit down gently.
He flinches at the feeling of my teeth digging into his skin, then completely aborts his mission to ignore me completely.
Sal's hands fly to my waist, one gripping tightly onto my hip and the other trailing up my back and into my hair, gripping the strands tightly before yanking my head back.
My teeth are ripped from his neck immediately and Sal pulls me away from him by the base of my neck. I gasp, staring into his captivating azure eyes from just centimeters away. His prosthetic nose bumps my mask's and he holds me there without a word.
His eyes trail down my face and heavy breaths follow his gaze. His cold fingers are curled into my neck, his nails digging into my skin.
I swallow, wondering if maybe I should have just minded my own business, stayed in the living room and waited for Larry to come back. Maybe I pissed him off.
I lick my lips and blink at him, my mouth gapes open as I try to find something to say. He's silent. It's not awkward, just scary. Scary is ten times worse.
Sal must see the regret and fear in my eyes because his own eyes lessen their harsh glare a bit and then he rasps out, "Can I touch you?"
Every inch of my body goes rigid with shock, anticipation. "Yes," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. My fingers tighten ever so slightly on the underside of his jaw while my heart runs an entire marathon in my chest. Now is not the time to get nervous because I sweat when I'm nervous. I need to be horny– not nervous.
Sal takes a deep breath, eyes set on mine. I feel his chest rise ever so slowly, then go back down the same exact way. The pause between us is utter agony and I feel like I'm going to start spazzing out or something. Honestly, with the way I'm sitting on top of him, I might just fall over and die on the spot. That feels less incriminating than whatever is about to ensue.
Cool fingers grasp onto my thigh, his palm flattening against my skin. His hand drags up to my side, followed by his other hand leaving my neck to grab the other side of my waist. The feeling of him touching me, just like he'd asked, fills me with memories I tried so desperately to forget just a couple weeks or so ago. This is deja vu in the best way.
In one swift motion, Sal lifts me up and plops me on top of his desk. I brace myself with my hands on either side of his keyboard that lays behind me. Questions of concern start flowing through my brain because this is an odd place to be.
"Don't knock over my shit," Sal breathlessly informs, eyes glancing up to me. HIs hands move to the waist band of my bottoms and I suck in another anxious, anticipatory breath.
I nod quickly, watching him with wide eyes as he looks down at my waist, his hands circling to the front of my stomach and fumbling with the button of my shorts. Oh my gosh.
I gulp, looking at anything but the man between my legs, currently pulling down the shorts I'd traveled in. His cold fingers brush along the outside of my thighs, causing goosebumps to rise all over my skin. He's slow, purposeful, dragging this out to get whatever reaction out of me that he can. It feels like my heart is about to explode.
I have no idea what he's about to do, he doesn't warn me either. I don't have the guts to watch this scene play out. The prospect of his dilated pupils, messy hair, and that glare in his captivating eyes is too much-- so much that warmth pools between my thighs before he can initiate anything.
"You look scared," he murmurs and I flinch at the gentle, comforting tone he uses with me. I've never heard something such as this come from him and be directed at mebefore.
"I am," I answer honestly, licking my lips while his fingers slowly pull my shorts down my legs. I lift myself a bit to aid him, shivering when my bare legs meet the cold surface of his desk. "A bit."
"Why?" Sal asks, hands pressing onto my thighs. With how warm my skin is and how cool his fingers are, the contrasting temperature is enough to spark an aneurysm. He drags those hands of his up my legs until he reaches my panties, hooking his digits into them.
I shake my head, chin quite literally tilted up to the ceiling. I'm not quite sure what has me so scared. Am I afraid of myself? Him? Getting caught? Being dropped again?
One risky hand leaves my hip and Sal's prosthetic comes into view. He's hovering over me, in a standing position now. His hair falls onto my shoulders, shielding us from the rest of the world like a curtain. I blink up at him, breath caught in my throat as a rush of chills invades my body.
"Hey," he says. His voice is a bit on edge, but it's concerned. So concerned that it distracts me from my own fear for a moment. "You're okay," he continues, his hand gripping onto my chin and pulling my head down so we can be eye level. I look between his bright eyes-- his eyebrows are risen a bit, as if to communicate to me that I can trust him. But can I?
"I'll take care of you. If you want to stop, if you don't want to start-- let me know. Say anything and I'll end it immediately." He tilts his head a bit, eyes glancing over my face. This is different. This looks vulnerable. "If I made you uncomfortable at all, I--"
My head shakes in opposition. I don't even have to think about it. "No, it's not that. It-- I trust you." The words spew out of my mouth and I immediately regret it. Something smug takes over his expression and I press my lips together, grabbing onto his wrist connected to the hand that's still holding my chin. "I trust you with this. If I was tied to train tracks, I wouldn't even think of calling you." I narrow my eyes at him to exemplify my point. His eyes squint as if he's... smiling? I'll ignore that. "But you've never... made me uncomfortable. You always ask. You always check. So..."
I watch him nod slowly, our gazes never disconnecting. He seems to contemplate what I've said, measurably formulating his next move. "Do you want to talk about what's stressing you then?"
My head rears back and my eyebrows furrow, his hand falling away from my face. "What brain eating amoeba has overtaken you?" I blurt out, holding a hand out between us. It's incredibly odd-- this is out of place. "You are never concerned about me-- what is this?"
If you can't tell, I'm not a fan of change. I greatly prefer stability even if it's toxic.
Sal drops the caring act almost immediately, his eyes rolling so hard that I'm worried they'll sink into his body. "I can't go down on you if you're freaked, can I? I wouldn't even feel comfortable doing that. I'm an asshole, not a monster."
I pause, every facial feature relaxing as his statement slaps me in the face. Key words: go, down, on, you, asshole, monster. Yep, only monstrous assholes go down on their enemies. I'm the very brave, very eager, very shocked recipient of this going down.
I take a deep, shaky breath, blinking at Sal who watches me with what looks like a raised eyebrow. "Okay," I breathlessly whisper. "How are you-- are you..." Why am I rambling? What kind of answer am I looking for? Obviously the prosthetic is about to come off and I just have to contain the desperate, whore-like rage within.
"Shut up, Vi," he chuckles over my nickname, grabbing onto my thighs and tugging me to the edge of the desk as he sits in his chair again. My fingertips press into the wooden surface while my heart threatens to pound its way through my ribcage. "Just let me taste you."
Cue internal screaming. I'm so going to faint-- and the addition of watching his pretty guitar-playing hands leave my skin to unbuckle his prosthetic is pushing me to astronomical heights. I don't even exist anymore. I'm just a wisp, a little phantom fairy watching her favorite sex movie play out in real time. It's called Faceless Fixation. She's the Fellatio Fairy. I don't even-- whoever is writing my life needs to give me a break.
I'm shivering like I have hypothermia by the time Sal carefully pulls the prosthetic off his face, making sure to not mess up his hair. And then he glances up at me. Bright eyes hesitant, sort of wide. Eyebrows risen just a bit and lips pressed together like he wants to say a thousand things but can't. He looks so nervous and it's a moment we can both share.
For reassurance (I think we both need it) I smile at him. Just a slight upward tilt of my lips as I press my thighs together. He's so beautiful. Every scar, every indentation, every feature, every little freckle. Just wow-- he's a sight to behold.
Sal's gaze flits to my lips, then down to my legs and he grabs onto them again, purposefully pulling them apart. His black polished nails dig into my skin as he gazes down at my underwear. I'm so used to watching his reactions and feelings portrayed only through his eyes, but watching the way his jaw tenses and the moment his lips part like he can't wait any longer makes me feel like I'll implode.
His fingers run up my legs to my hips, dipping into my panties and pulling them downward. I gulp over the sight, relishing in the deja vu. How kind of him to not rip these this time.
I lift myself up as he shimmies them down my legs, finally pulling them from around my ankles and holding them up for me to see. I blink, warmth rushing to my face at his boldness. And Sal, well-pleased, quirks a little seductive smile at them before switching his gaze to me.
"I haven't even touched you and you're soaked," is what he murmurs, eyes dancing over my half naked body with very little focus on my face. It's like he's glued to what hides behind my clenched thighs, eagerly awaiting what he'll find between them. "You're inflating my ego way too much," his voice is a bit louder this time-- darker, more sinister. The pronunciation of his words shows off charming, slightly crooked front teeth and sharp canines. I'll never know how I haven't ascended already.
I shiver, trying and failing to hide my reaction. But it doesn't really matter, seeing as Sal caught onto it anyway and his hooded eyes are on mine, a dangerous glint clashing with the hypnotizing azure shade of his irises.
His hands are on my legs again, fingers roughly squeezing my skin. He isn't putting off his plans again though. When he separates my legs and I try my best not to push him away out of fear, Sal leans forward and presses his lips to the inside of my left thigh.
I take a deep, shuddering breath as I bathe in the feeling of his soft, jagged lips moving along my sensitive skin. I commit the image to memory, absolutely astonished over the way his blue eyes are closed while he inches closer and closer to my pussy.
I'm unable to take a full breath at this point, my body is tense while I try to hold myself in an upright position, pathetically falling apart as his mouth dances along the inside of my thigh like he's studied and perfected each step he takes. His hands are molded into my skin, they've become a part of me. He's pressing my thigh up to his face, leaving the most inebriating kisses. I wish he would stop teasing me already.
At the same time, I'm obsessed with the way he's handling me. Delicately, carefully, but he's in full control and making me wait. Testing me. Seeing if I'll push him, hoping I'll give him a good reason to punish me.
Sal's eyes open again, glancing up to meet mine. I suck in a breath, watching as he opens that dirty mouth of his and bites into the sensitive skin at the top of my thigh.
I hiss, wincing at the slight pain but my eyes never leave his. They could never. And he loves that, takes it as a challenge because those sky blue eyes close and he bites down harder, sucking my skin into his mouth to leave his mark.
Some kind of satisfied, sickeningly delighted feeling swells in my chest at the knowledge of having a mark from him on my body. It's primal, it's a little weird, but I adore the idea and maybe he does too. After what he said to me about North on the flight to Nockfell, I'd guess he's more than happy to stake his claim even if it's invisible to the outside world.
Sal finally pulls his teeth from my leg, revealing a gnarly, dark purple mark in his wake. He places a quick, soothing kiss to the abused skin before trailing his way closer to my pussy. He masks his destination with more wet kisses and bites and I'm so worked up by now that a light sheen of sweat has formed on my forehead. I can't be doing this-- this is complete torture.
"Sal," I groan out, flinching at the sinful tone of my voice. It makes him pause his movements as well. "Please," I tack on, the word quiet and agonizingly pleading.
He hums against my skin, eyes zeroed in on mine. I hate being so direct, it's terrifying, but it's worth it if it'll end up with his tongue buried in me, right?
"Beg for it," he says lowly, a slight rasp to his voice. His tone makes me shiver, as well as his words and I would drop to my hands and knees if he told me to right now.
My lips part upon hearing him and I release a shaky breath, thighs drawing together until he stops them with his tight grip. My heart is running a marathon, my limbs are trembling and I'm wondering if maybe this is all just a really awesome dream.
"Please," I repeat, voice coming out as a whine. For once, I don't regret it because this is what he wants. "I'm desperate." I don't know how else to portray to him that I need this-- the wait is nearly excruciating. "I need to feel you."
Sal pulls away from my skin, tongue lapping at all of his bite marks before a sadistic smile pulls at his lips. "How much do you hate me?" And he's waiting, waiting for a wordy explanation of my distaste for him. But now, with the way things have changed between us-- even if it's slightly-- describing my loathing somehow feels harder.
So I snort, trying to coerce him into putting his mouth on me again regardless of the location. But all the shivers, waiting, and very slow building orgasm is slipping away into the distance. "A lot," I whisper shakily.
He gives me a look, eyes narrowed and lips pressed together as if I've disappointed him. "You can do better than that, Vi. Where's the fire?" He leans toward the thigh he hasn't captured with his mouth yet and skims his teeth along my skin. "Should I give you an example?"
I lick my lips, a sudden fluttering in my chest making me feel light headed. I hesitantly shake my head-- the longer he isn't paying attention to me, the farther I am from cumming. I can come up with something to say can't I? Of course I can. He's infuriating enough.
"Alright then," he mumbles monotonously, finally ditching my thighs. He yanks me a bit closer, eyes still rifling through my soul. "Then tell me. And if you stop," he warns as I swallow against the pounding in my chest due to his positioning, face mere inches from my sopping cunt. He's dragged this on long enough. "I stop. Keep that filthy mouth of yours moving."
He waits for me to launch into a monologue of detest. His mouth so close to my clit, breath tickling my skin and forcing a quiet little whimper from me.
"I fucking hate the constant foul mood you're always in," I force out, feeling my heart leap into my throat the second the words leave my mouth. Because Sal keeps his promise and with an inebriating grunt of approval, he finally attaches his lips to my clit, tongue running over it like he's desperate to soak up every inch of what I have to offer.
The feeling of his mouth on my pussy is incomparable to any other type of satisfaction in the world-- this is what I've waited for. And he happily makes up for the lost time, expertly flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves and sucking it farther into his mouth. He moans against my cunt, hands dragging up my thighs to cup my ass and force me even closer to him. He squeezes my skin, a reminder to keep talking.
I dig up all the things I can't stand about him, slathering them across my brain so I can tell him about it. "You're a brick wall. No matter what I say, you refuse to listen. How come you're never open to hearing anyone out?" I whimper between words, squirming around on his desk and trying my damn hardest not to ruin any of his belongings.
Sal lifts my legs over his arms, pushing them onto his shoulders and I swear I'm about to combust. The way his tongue maps figure eights and circles around my clit does nothing to help, only sends me further toward falling apart.
I squeeze my eyes shut, fingers curling over the edge of his desk, heavy breaths and quiet moans falling past my lips no matter how badly I wish I could keep them inside. "You have some kind of God complex. You think you're right about everything, have to be in control of everything and I can't stand it. I can't stand you and your constant need to have everything you want."
His teeth graze over my clit and my mouth falls open, waves of pleasure rolling through my body like I've never experienced before. He moves downward, his tongue buried between my folds and licking up every bit of my arousal that he can get. Upon getting a better taste of me, he moans and I can feel the vibration of it everywhere, all the way up to my fingertips.
"I hate how easily you turn me on, how wet I get just from a simple touch," I admit, teeth clamping down onto my bottom lip as his tongue explores the inside of my pussy like he's been starved of me for far too long. His nails dig into my skin, the action eliciting a stinging sensation that only adds to the pleasure he's giving me. This is everything. "And you're so unfair. So pretty, so damn attractive with that horrible personality of yours. Why can't you be pretty through and through?"
I open my eyes again to watch him, drowning in the prospect of his face buried between my thighs, cheeks flushed and hair a mess. I watch as he drags his mouth up to my clit again, drawing patterns and shapes I don't care to know over the bundle of nerves. The rough, slick feeling of his tongue on such a sensitive place is addicting. So long as he's around to bring me to new heights like this, I don't need anything else. Maslow's hierarchy of needs has never been so wrong-- this is my sole need.
I can't help myself-- I reach a hand out, my fingers burying themselves into Sal's hair. It's soft. Just as soft as I knew it would be. And he doesn't seem to mind, only continues to suck on my clit and abuse it with his tongue. I close my hand into a fist, lightly tugging on his hair. I need something to hold onto.
"And your stupid fucking mouth," I groan out, sucking in a breath that never fully fills my lungs. His tongue dips into my pussy again, making another little groan follow my first. My thighs are clenched tightly at this point, quaking furiously. Sal never tries to stop me, doesn't calm me. It's clear how much he enjoys bringing me to ruin. "All the awful things you say, so many dirty words and you are so good with your tongue. I've never craved and loathed something so much in my life."
Sal smiles against my pussy-- I watch in pure amazement as the corners of his lips curl upward like what I said was everything he's always wanted to hear. It's so lewd, so perverted and I absolutely will never forget this moment.
One of his hands lets go of my ass, trailing down my thigh again but moving to the inside this time. As his teeth gently nip at my clit and his tongue laps at my pussy, the tips of his fingers press against my opening, a silent request for more of my profession of hatred. A profession I'm more than happy to give him.
"I can't imagine how much I'll hate the way you fuck me just because I know it'll be better than any sex I've had before," I tell him, watching his mouth move against my cunt with furrowed brows and my lips parted in intrigue. Oh, he's so good at what he does.
Sal's eyes meet mine again. Eye contact with him when he's in such an erotic position is incredibly intense. I feel like my entire body is going to crumple before he can finish me off and it all counts on if he's able to hold me up or not. But as soon as his cerulean gaze meets mine, two of his fingers sink into me. The action is slow, drawn out, and drags a nasty moan out of me in turn.
Sal whimpers against my pussy, taking care of me like he promised he would. When his fingers reach as far as they can go, he curls them, causing me to flinch at the sensuous feeling. There's so much going on to the point that every inch of my body feels impossibly overwhelmed.
My sensitive clit gets sucked into Sal's mouth again, but then he pulls away. His fingers make up for the absence of his tongue, pounding into me in the same salacious way he's done before.
"Is that all you've got?" he grumbles breathlessly, glazed eyes glaring into mine. This is the expression I'm used to with him-- anger and dominance.
I choke on the breath I try to take, my thighs pressing into his neck as his fingers slam in and out of my soaked cunt, digits only pausing their relentless pace to curl into me. I try to fight against my one working brain cell, try to form words for him, but-- "I can't." is all that I'm able to create, the two short words coming out as an imploring cry.
Sal stands, finger-fucking me into an alternate dimension. He hovers over me, his hair brushing my shoulders and neck. I watch him, an absolute mess beneath him but I can't look away-- even through the panting breaths that morph into whimpers and moans.
His eyes glance between mine, seemingly contemplating something in that meticulous mind of his.
"Yea, you can, gorgeous," he grinds out behind clenched teeth, using the hand that's gripping my ass to press me against his chest. Our even closer proximity somehow forces his fingers deeper into my pussy, his thumb rubbing my clit. "Tell me more." My mouth is dry, I'm going to cum soon, and hopefully I don't actually fall over before that.
Sal takes a page out of my book, leaning closer to me and nipping at the skin of my throat. A little gasp falls past my lips and I finally let go of his hair, dragging my hand down to his neck. Those fingers work me to the core, never ceasing their movements and pushing into me with so much perfectly applied force.
His mouth moves along the side of my neck, his lips still wet from my juices. I have no idea what gave him the confidence, but I'm not mad. Everything that couldn't be done with his prosthetic can be done now and he's taking advantage of it. "Speak," he snaps, tone not so gentle or comforting like it was when this first began. "Or else."
My mind is blank. "I'm about to cum," I begrudgingly whisper, completely overtaken by his fingers thrusting into me and his thumb focused on my oversensitive clit.
I shut my eyes, my free arm wrapping around his shoulders. Every inch of my body is tense, senses heightened and alert. I don't think I can possibly hold on any longer-- I doubt Sal needed my confirmation to tell that I'm close.
His digits curl into me again, repeating the action. I follow up with a loud whimper, my nails digging into the skin of his neck as he sucks on the skin behind my ear. I wish he'd have ditched the prosthetic sooner because I've really been missing out.
The hand still gripping onto my butt retreats to my stomach, fingers disappearing under my shirt and crawling across my ribs to my bra. He treats it as if it isn't even there, hand easily dipping beneath the fabric. His palm envelops my breast, squeezing gently and massaging the skin. It's such a considerate touch compared to the way he treats the rest of my body-- he knows exactly where the sweet spots are.
"Cum," he commands, lips brushing the shell of my ear and fingers pounding into my sore cunt, thumb running over my hardened nipple.
My head drops onto his shoulder and with one more curl of his fingers, I do as he says and fall apart in his arms. I burst almost instantly, doing anything to keep myself silent over the feeling of his fingers gently caressing the inside of my pussy, riding me through my orgasm just like he did the first time. My teeth sink into his shoulder, a muffled whimper following soon after. Sal tenses up in my arms, a pleasured breath falling from his mouth and fanning over the side of my neck.
"Good girl," he purrs into my ear, lips skimming over the warm skin at my throat. He leaves one more sloppy kiss to my neck then pulls away to look into my eyes again. I can hardly hear anything he says as my teeth are forced away from his shoulder, still reeling from the orgasm that slammed into me nearly unannounced. My limbs feel like jelly as chills run up my spine. "You listen to me so well," he continues. I can't even look into his eyes; I just watch the way his lips move. How his tongue presses into the back of his teeth to pronounce a syllable. His sharp canines that undoubtedly left their own bruises on my skin.
I gulp, unable to peel my eyes away from the mouth that masterfully brought me to climax. For the first time ever, I wonder what his mouth would feel like against mine. How soft his scarred lips would feel, not on my skin, but captured by my own. What his tongue would taste like. What his teeth would feel like nipping at my lips.
Sal doesn't move away from me-- keeps our close proximity with his nose nearly brushing my mask's. He slowly, delicately pulls his fingers out of me but only continues to gaze into my eyes.
This is dangerous territory. Very dangerous. Because the impossible is coursing through me right now and I... somehow can't find it in me to hate him in this exact moment.
But then he blinks. Stands to his full height, moving away from me. His azure gaze turns to the desk I'm sitting on and he grabs my panties, offering them to me. Not an ounce of emotion evident on his face. I'd always wondered what he'd look like simply because I was curious if his face gave away his emotions better than his eyes could. It's pretty impressive how he's able to keep a straight mug though, RBF and all. Especially when he lifts the hand he fingered me with to his mouth and licks my cum off. He doesn't even look at me as his tongue runs up the length of his digit, just turns away from me and walks to the other side of the room.
I'm floored, jaw dropped and pussy wet. Again. That's really fucking hot.
I watch him strut away, follow his movements as he drops to his haunches and opens up his suitcase with his clean hand. He grabs something then faces me again, beginning to walk back with a finger still in his mouth.
My chest tightens at the sight. He can't be doing this to me. Not when Larry is going to be home any minute-- he needs to keep both his hands at his sides.
Thankfully, Sal has some mercy on me and finally finishes cleaning his fingers, eyes darting up to mine again. He walks up to me, right where I'm still sitting on top of his desk and drops fabric onto my bare thighs.
My brows furrow and I look down, grabbing lace. I lift it up, unfolding it to see that it's a near replica of the lace underwear he'd ripped off of me in Vegas. Only it's a completely brand new pair. No rips, no issues. My heart swells a bit at the gesture-- he bought a new pair like I'd told him to. I wasn't even serious, but he did it anyway.
I puff out my cheeks, contemplating what to say. Thank you's are virtually nonexistent between us. My eyes flit up to meet his again and he stuffs his hands into his pockets, watching me.
"You taste good," he nonchalantly comments, causing an infuriating blush to heat my cheeks.
"Thanks," I murmur, holding up the lace panties to show that I'm thankful for them too. "You taste pretty good too." He does. I'll have to return the favor to him when I get the chance.
A barely audible snort comes from him and I almost smile.
"I'd fuck you, but Larry will be back any minute and Ash probably isn't far behind him," he says, turning on his heel and walking toward the door. "I suggest you put your clothes back on. Panties are clean, I washed them."
My eyebrows raise and I pinch my lips together. Huh. "How kind of you," I say half sarcastically. Only half because it's helpful that they are clean-- it's almost like he knew he'd place me in a predicament where I needed fresh underwear. "You trying to kick me out?" I add. Of course he is, I'm just trying to make my way out of here as awkward-less as possible.
"Hell yea," he says proudly, "I have shit to do."
"Are you calling me a distraction?" I ask, looking toward him as I shimmy my underwear and shorts up my legs then start working on the button.
Sal tilts his head, hand on the doorknob. "And a mild aggravation."
"Oh, wow," I gasp, feigning surprise. "Mild? I must be working my way onto your good side."
"Fuck me good enough and we'll see how far you get," he replies, eyes watching my every move but face still unreadable as I begin walking toward him.
I roll my eyes. Of course. I pinch my lips together and give him a disinterested look. This is my lesson to never try to have a casual conversation with him again. He clearly doesn't want it, which, fair. Our agreement is sex, not friendship. "Okay," I say dramatically when he opens the door for me. "Bye, Sal."
The man nods his head, acknowledging the shift in the room. His eyes stay glued to mine like they have been the entire time I've been here. Now that I'm not distracted by his mouth on my pussy, I realize that this is an odd thing for him to do. He looks at me every once in a while, but not in such a... scrutinizing way.
He purses his lips and says, "Bye, y/n."
Every nerve-ending in my body suddenly shuts off. Everything is still. I have no thoughts for a moment, no physical reaction. Just stillness. I don't breathe, I don't move. I just watch him.
There's no way— he has to have mixed up my names. It has to be that.
And then everything hits me. Sal Fisher just said my name. And not the fake one that I've been hiding behind. He said my actual name— the one that's on my birth certificate. And now my hands are shaking, my heart is racing, my breaths are uneven, and I feel like I'm going to throw up.
"What the fuck," I say shakily. I'm not ready for this. I'm going to completely switch his thought process around-- "did you just say?"
The look in his eyes changes, they light up a bit as if he's caught me. And still he decides to mess with me. "Huh?" he innocently asks.
Okay, I'd really like to wake up now.
My eyes narrow. So that's the game he wants to play? This isn't the time and I don't have the mental capacity to handle this. Not only am I recovering from a mind-blowing orgasm, but I was just getting over the overwhelming anxiety I suffered from yesterday.
"I'm not y/n, if that's what you're thinking," I rush to tell him, even adding in the fakest little smirk I've ever slapped onto my face. Anything to get him off my tail, whatever I can think of to save my ass. This really can't be happening to me.
He's still watching me speculatively and it's making my brain itch. "You know," he finally starts, voice disgustingly pleased. "I went out on a limb with that one." I watch in horror as a little smirk begins to grow on his face. I don't want to accept it yet, I really don't, but I think I'm fucked and not physically.
At the end of the day, he's still managed to fuck me in multiple ways. I cannot stand Sal Fisher.
"What are you even talking about?" I ask him, clearing my throat quietly while taking a safe step out of his door and into the living room. I try my best to keep my eyes on him while extinguishing the fear from my gaze. If I act horrified, he'll sniff me out instantly. That is, if he hasn't already.
Sal chuckles deeply— it's, shockingly, an amused and prideful one rather than something sick, dark, and twisted. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. I try my best not to adore the way his scars stretch with his laugh and the sight of his pretty teeth. "Any other woman would have assumed I was sleeping with someone else if I called them by another name," he says lightheartedly, tilting his head down a bit. "But you didn't. And that can only mean that I'm right."
I open my mouth to decline, fear thrumming through me. He caught me red handed. I can't fucking believe this.
"And don't try to deny it, you won't change my mind. I've been very sure of who you are for months now."
My head slowly begins to shake of its own accord. He never fails to shock me. "How..."
Sal shrugs. "You couldn't have timed your introduction more horrendously. Think about it," he says, chewing on his bottom lip. "I bitch at y/n over a phone call, then the next day, a wild VioletViolence pops into my life and isn't too surprised by my shitty personality. The second you were added to the Discord server, I had my suspicions." He shrugs nonchalantly, like the confirmation doesn't bother him in the slightest. "I talked it over with Larry and Todd too. They're pretty sure of your identity as well. They were just nice enough to wait for you to tell us on your own." His eyes narrow, sly like a fox. "But I'm not nice and wanted to know for myself. Wanted to scare you a bit too."
I swallow over the bile rising in my throat. Scare me, he did. I have no idea what to do with myself. I must look like a deer in headlights nearing its death sentence. "It... it doesn't bother you?" I decide to ask in a small voice, unable to blink as I watch him closely.
That same smug little smile is still lighting up his marred face as he says, "Regardless, I still can't stand you and I'll still fuck you stupid."
-----------
A/N::::::: OMFFGGGGG I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS CHAPTER FOR AGESSSSSS PLEASE!!! more specifically the end of it! i've had this last scene written since like... 2022 o_O
i want to give a HUGE thanks to my very good friend, Phoebe, who inspired me to write the catalyst of the smut scene with this AMAZING piece of art that they drew :3 i am soooo so grateful for having the opportunity to see the art in general, but getting to write it too??? OMG so incredibly grateful <33
side note: this is my first time writing a smut scene like this one-- well, actually any time i write a different kind of sex it's new for me LMFAO i am exploring EVERYTHINGGGG and i also have no idea if this is any good. so like last chapter, if y'all could give me some tips or things you like and didn't like, i would GREATLY appreciate it :3
i'm going catch up on my neglected homework. as always, have a wonderful morning/day/evening/night. my heart belongs to all of you <3
#sal fisher#sally face#larry johnson#ash campbell#todd morrison#travis phelps#enemies to lovers#sally face fandom#sally face fanfiction#fanfic#smut
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
I get impressed by @weirdsillycreature 's re-desgins
So I decided to re-design lim again and make him look more better than his old version
(Don't tell him that I said this but I think his old design were look like a cheap version of an incredibox scratch mod to me 😅)
That's more like it lol
+ I add him a third bow that actually looks like a bow XD
Also I finally wrote his full story too
Enjoy~
↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓
Lim is an orphan with his oldest sister, he's been adopted and left out a lot as a kid, his good first step dad were passed away and his brother who suppose to take care of lim were traumatized lim with his step brother and step mom, then kicked out from the house, lim's step aunt and oldest sister helped him a little but then the aunt have to put him to adoption again, luckily his oldest sister go with lim to protect him, then lim got adopted again by a family with 3 daughters, the parents were gone work but the daughters were nice to lim, sadly they were way older than lim so they grow out and have to live on their own before lim did, then due to an unknown accident, lim put on adoption again, on the moving days this goes like this, on this times, lim's oldest sister always helped lim about his education and health, until one day they got adopted by an unmarried couple, apparently these two were not lovers but live together as roommates, due to lim's traumas, the new step dad desired to sign lim to parent therapy so lim can feel parent love faster, for now he got two mothers who helps him but far away, and one day the step mom(roommate one) left saying lim were too much to care and she has her life above, that hurt lim a lot since he were like 15, after years at age 17 lim started a job in brimfero laboratory as a janitor for money, he did not like there but he needed the money, but the salary they giving him were barely enough and that got lim pissed so badly, so one day he desired to steal the tests tubes of brimfero and sell them to gain more money so him and his family can move to a better home, but lim got caught by John and mason near the woods, due to lim betrayed the laboratory, John order mason to beat him up and snitch his eyes shit, mason hesitate at first but he doesn't have a choice, so he did, then John takes mason's metal pipe and stab it thru lim's chest before leaving him bloody dead there, lim's death were reported on the news and lim's family were shocked, but after an hour the news reported that lim's body were now missing, that confused everyone ofc, suddenly lim woke up his head in a rock inside the woods, still bloody and looks like how he left like, he didn't understand how he's still alive but whole trying to get up he start to float a little, lim panicked and make a off move that causes him to fall and crack his neck, that caused his head to fall but oh..how is he still alive? Lim were shock, he hold his head in his hands and place it back on his neck, then he realize he break his joints too and doesn't die at all, he were kinda amazed but scared, he didn't wanna face anyone, he were undead and also so ugly looking in his current situation, he float to an abandoned house and looks at himself on the mirror, he start ripping the snitching off his eyes and take the Metal pipe out his chest, then snitched the bloody hole on his chest and re-build his body, while exploring the house he found two ribbons (which he's currently wearing on his head) and use the ribbons to tie his hair up, after all that he start living there, far from home he get his food and needs by stealing and also start drinking and doing cocaine, he even got caught ones in a stranger street (which a lot miles away from where he died) they put him on a mental hospital for some months and after that lim start to live on the abandoned houses and different streets, due to his fear of going back, he sometimes visits his grave and also that's how he killed that 5 victims who were burning down his grave.
(Sorry if there any typos-)
#incredibox#orin ayo#breakthrough#tragibox#incredibox breakthrough#incredibox e.v.a.c.u.a.t.e#incredibox orin ayo#incredibox fanart#incredibox oc#wekiddy
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
starting from zero, got nothing to lose
(eddie munson x ofc)
part I
Eddie Munson makes it out of the Upside Down, and a year and some change later makes it out of Hawkins. Knee deep in the '89 NYC metal scene and working at a boxing gym in Brooklyn, Eddie wonders if he'll ever find his footing running from Hawkins. With only some phones calls to sustain his friendships back home, will he be able to let go for the long haul? Or will his past in Hawkins eventually catch up with him?
AN: Back in June I started writing vignettes of this story as it came to me and am still developing it. I have plot ideas that need refining, but like, at least 20 pages of content for this story already. I've had to do a lot of research to make it as time period accurate as possible. I've lived in NYC for 12 years but wasn't alive in the 80s so I'm doing my best.
This first chapter is mostly exposition and background but our guy is a lil' sassy towards the end. The OFC does have descriptors, but whatever imagine her however you'd like.
I think the only TW is drug use and drug mention in this chapter but I'll be vigilant for any more. Lastly, if you're under 18, please don't read this shit.
New York City
December 29th, 1989
It was a cold night. The subways were empty with holiday shopping finally over and the short lull between Christmas and New Years tourists had arrived. Eddie sat with his legs spread out wide on the bench of the train. One hand drummed out the beat of Dr. Feelgood on his knee, the other on the switchblade in his vest pocket. He only had to use it once since he came to the city, but it never hurt to have it ready to go.
He didn’t like the subway. Not because of the graffiti, that was metal. Not because of the homeless sleeping on the train cars or asking him for money. Not because he already had a beat up truck he could drive instead. It was because when it was late at night, and it was just him, the little flicker of the overhead lights made him nervous. Like once they shut off, they’d shut off forever and he’d wake up still stuck in the…
“Hey man, you got a dollar?” a raspy voice asked, holding a hand out. Eddie looked up and gave the guy a quick once over. He looked rough – hunched over and dried out. The dirt caked in his nails looked like it had been there for years.
“Sure man, yeah,” he fumbled a bit for his wallet, pulling at the chain on his pants. He slipped out a couple bills and handed them over, “Be safe tonight, okay?”
“God Bless,” the man murmured while shuffling away, “Happy New Year.”
Eddie looked out the window of the car, they still hadn’t pulled out of York Street. The trip from Gleason’s to Delancey was only a stop across the boroughs, but it sometimes felt like hours to make it into the city from Brooklyn. He caught his reflection in the window, still him – but a couple years weathered. The shine had dulled out of his eyes, only lighting up when the phone in his apartment rang because he knew it would be Dustin and the gang. His hair was the same curly, wavy, frizzy mess it always was. Calluses and scabs on his knuckles contrasted against his gun metal rings.
After leaving Hawkins in the Fall of ‘87, he spent a lot of time sleeping in his Uncle Wayne’s truck while working odd jobs in different Ohio and Pennsylvania towns so he could make enough money to head out to New York. He wanted to go to all the places he read about in Metallix, Rock Scene, and Punk Magazine. Maybe he’d meet the Ramones or something, or THE fucking Ozzy after a show. He wanted to get out of all the small towns so at least he could be a freak in a big city full of other freaks. But if you wanted to be a freak in Ohio and Pennsylvania, you needed to know how to fight.
It took him some time to recover after getting out of the Upside Down, he spent over a year in Hopper’s cabin in a makeshift hospital bed. The only good side about the end of the world in Hawkins is that everyone thought he was dead; so they weren’t looking for a satanic killer on the loose anymore. The downside was trying to figure out where they were going to find him a blood supply. It worked out but just barely. Then there was the whole, learning to be a person again. When he started getting stronger, he told Hopper his plan to leave, and Hopper taught him the basics. Jab, cross, hook, uppercut. His stance, how to move, how to breathe, how to block. He was kicking himself for not learning sooner.
The kids were able to snag his school records, Wayne brought all of his cassettes, documents, and his guitar Lucy who survived the trip from another dimension. His uncle gave him $400 dollars, Wayne’s entire savings, and his beat up truck.
“Call when you can,” he said in a firm hug before Eddie left – but Wayne passed away a few months later from a heart attack. It killed him not to go to the funeral.
He ended up in the city around the same time last year, came across Gleason’s Gym during a fight and asked for a job as a janitor the same night. Something about watching boxing matches gave him the same excitement he got whenever he heard a solid guitar solo. He didn’t want to get in the ring or spar or anything, he just wanted to be around some of that chaos…and the girls helped, too. Girls always helped. Bruce, the owner, said he’d only let the manager give him a raise if he got his GED – and so maybe ‘86 wasn’t his year, but ‘88 had shaped up to be.
The pay wasn’t amazing, but he wasn’t sleeping in his car long. Eddie was good at a lot of things, cleaning up blood and spit, fixing cars, he could play guitar, and most importantly, he was really, really good at selling cocaine. He was quick to be picked up for selling, his look helped, but he made sure to find a supplier with quality. It wasn’t Hawkins, so there weren’t many positives in selling shitty drugs in NYC — just a lot of split lips and black eyes. He did his best in metal bars, music venues, and out of Gleason’s. A lot of the guys used it to stay lean and keep their weight class. This came in handy any time he heard a complaint in the men’s locker room. That’s where Tony came in the picture.
The train screeched into Delancey and Essex and he swung himself on the pole off the train, a patched up leather satchel slamming up against his hip as he did. The sound of pills shaking in the bag distracted a few passers by but he shook off the stares, it was nothing at this point. Eddie got out of the subway into the chilled December night, lit a cigarette, and made his way to his next job.
Tony Cardalino, or more affectionately known as Tone, came to Gleason’s a few months ago to train. Tone was like him: shaggy brown hair, bandana in his back pocket, battle jacket – the works. He was about five inches taller than him, built like a tank, a good fighter, and overall a lot more intimidating than Eddie ever was. Chrissy’s ‘ You’re not what I thought you’d be ,’ rang through his head the first time he had a conversation with him.
“Aw nice pin, dude,” Tony said one night in the locker room while Eddie took off his coverall at the end of his shift, “I feel like the new kids don’t give WASP their respect.”
That night they went through a pack of Marlboros together outside, talking about bands and Eddie still finding his footing in the city. He told him about the first time he went to CBGB and L’Amour, Tony told him all the good places to have sex with chicks there. He took the biggest interest in Eddie’s dealing. Tone’s second cousin was connected to the mob, a solid hit man, until he was the hit – so his bar ‘Skid’ on Avenue B needed a new supplier. Eddie wasn’t about to pass up another opportunity to make money, so he took him up on the offer. He’d go to Skid after Gleason’s and bring his inventory with him.
“Just don’t let Ron catch ya,” he confessed, “You’d think those bartenders and bitches are too busy, but they see everything .”
“Is Ron a pig, or a narc or something?” Eddie asked, a little flash of fear striking through his chest.
Tony laughed, “Nah, Ronnie’s just off that shit. Not really into the whole drug thing anymore and when Paulie got put in the river it shook everybody up. But Ron’ll deck ya if you get caught and it's a hell of an uppercut.”
Now, Eddie had heard of Skid, but it had been rumored among some metal heads that it was more of a hard rock bar than a metal bar so he hadn’t visited. There were places closer to his apartment he’d been hanging out at anyway. But ever since Tony’s uncle overdosed and it was left to Tony to run, things had taken a more metal turn… supposedly .
He pulled open the door, covered in stickers aside from the little opening for the ‘Come in! We’re open!’ sign. His hopes dashed a little as Led Zeppelin's ‘Black Dog’ blared through the speakers. In the ‘Is Led a metal band?’ debate, Eddie was staunchly against the idea – but all around Skid seemed like one of the places to be, even if it was a little quiet for a Friday. He guessed people were out of town or maybe still spending time with their families – whatever that means. He scoped the place out and saw Tony’s described ‘bitches’ manning the bar much to his relief. After finding a dark corner to settle in, he took a seat, keeping his bag open discreetly next to him.
All the booths, tables, and the bartop were dark cherry wood that looked black in the low lighting save for a little platform stage in the back, littered with amps and a drum set. Red leather upholstery looked worn and weathered from years of bar fights and the weight girls sitting on laps. Beer stains and cigarette burns. There were signed posters and photos all over the walls, two autographed Gibson’s hung over the bar with fishing wire. Ripped stickers and dollar bills with lipstick marks stuck to the back splash, lacy bras hung from the ceiling over the stage. It felt like a warm hug, he felt more at home than he had in months.
“Okay, well now that that shit’s over we’re gonna play Angel of Death by Suh-layerrrr,” a patron said lazily over the mic on the platform while his band set up. The crowd in the bar rowdily cheered. He had a beautiful Fender, Eddie almost purred in his throat when it glinted in the hazy red stage lights. He couldn’t pay attention long though, because with the band as a distraction, his customers slid by him one right after the other. The swap of baggies and bills felt like a waltz to him now he was so used to it, tucking the money into his sleeve and dropping it in the open satchel. He knew Tony had let word spread on who to look out for, but he wasn’t expecting this much in sales in one night.
To not bring too much attention to himself, he closed his bag up after a few songs from the band and maneuvered over to an empty stool at the end of the bar. He slung the bag on one of the purse hooks under the bar’s lip (which he was surprised they had installed) and turned his attention back towards the stage. Nodding his head in time with the beat, crossing his arms across his chest – he tried to catch a glimpse of Tony just about anywhere, but he hadn’t seen him since he arrived.
“You gonna order something handsome, or do ya just like the view?” he heard a woman’s voice ask over his shoulder. He turned on the stool, face to face with a barmaid who was leaning in close to hear his answer. He looked up at her, taking in her details. Little leather bustier, big denim vest riddled with patches and pins, jeans that were just tight enough. The standard type at bars like this, tits out and everything. She had brown eyes with too much mascara lashes and big brown Farah Fawcett hair. He could smell her cherry flavored Lip Smackers from the stool. Checked all the boxes, down to the Debbie Harry smoky eye.
“Oh,” he started, flashing her a smile and resting his chin on his hand, “Definitely the view.” Eddie had flirted his way into plenty of free shots with girls like her before, it was his favorite sport. She let a little puff of air out of her nose and leaned down onto her forearms.
“What can I get you?” she asked, matching his posture.
“I don’t know, what do you like?” he asked back, making a little show of slipping his eyes to her cleavage and then back up at her. She caught his stare and gave him a wink before slamming two tumblers down in front of them. I’m sure you do that to all the guys, he thought to himself. She poured two generous shots of Jack Daniels, picking up her glass and waiting for him to pick up his.
“I always like to toast before I do a shot with a stranger,” she flirted, “Especially ones like you.” He was so easily intoxicated by women these days and this was no exception, his mouth ran dry at her attention.
“What are we toasting to?” he asked in a low voice one hand on his drink and dropping the other down on the bar. With her free hand she reached slowly toward him, delicately placing his chin in her hand. He could feel the tips of her almond acrylics graze his skin.
She got nose to nose with him, Eddie could smell her perfume mixed with sweat and cigarette smoke. Her lips parted, hovering over his – his heart was thumping in his ears so hard it was drowning out the drums.
“To me never catching you slinging that shit in my bar again. I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but you need to get the fuck out of here,” she hissed through gritted teeth. He blanched and sputtered. Was this a set up? Was he not at the right bar?
Her nails dug into his chin as she threatened him, “Cause if not, I’ll call the fuckin’ owner out here and he knows the fuckin’ mob. Better yet, I’ll kick your fuckin’ ass myself.”
Eddie panicked, dropping the shot on the bar with a clink! Fuck, shit, shit, shit –
Oh.
Oh!
The ‘fucking owner’ that kne the mob was Tony. Eddie let out a snicker of relief, but it came out snarky. He took her wrist and pulled his face out of her nails, feeling the indents on his skin as he ran his other hand over his chin. He leaned onto his knuckles over the bar, looking down to face her directly,
“You must be Ron.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson au#eddie munson nyc au#eddie munson lives#eddie munson fix it fic#eddie munson x ofc#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson smut#eventually#eventual smut#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things au#stranger things fanfiction
167 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sliding Into Home ~ Wanna Feel Safe Again
Pairing: MLB!Frank Adler x Abigail Hernandez (OFC)
Synopsis:
After a trade from Boston to Los Angeles, first baseman Frank Adler would seem to have it all. Money, women, an amazing niece, yes Frank should have it all. Except for one thing. One thing that left after a mistake five years ago. Los Angeles should be the chance to start over. Except she is supposed to be in Boston. Not his new medical director.
* A Frank Adler AU x Major League Baseball Story**
Warning: ANGST (i can't stress this enough), second chances, cheating, S~M~U~T!!, slow burn, drug use, abandonment issues, betrayal, domestic violence (i may have missed some), flashbacks
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated
Previous: Don't You Know How to Spell Assume
Sliding Into Home Master List Main Masterlist
Frank: Practice is boring
Abby: Are you supposed to be on your phone?
Frank: No?
Abyy: Go back to practice
Frank: But I miss you
Abby: I’ll make it worth it if you go back.
Frank: Really?
Abby: Maybe
Frank: You can’t downgrade Cricket
Abby: Who said I did?
Frank smiled as he looked at his phone. “That smile cannot get any bigger.” He looked up at a smug looking Johnny. Frank closed his phone as Johnny sat next to him. “Who are you texting with?”
“No one.”
“You’re a shit liar Adler. You can tell me if you’re texting my sister.”
“I’m not. Just a friend. Making plans.” He shoved his phone in his bag. “You need something, you nosy bastard?”
Johnny laughed. “Ready to actually practice?”
“Fine,” Frank shoved him out of the dugout as they laughed on the field.
A couple of hours later, Abby was at her desk, updating the injury report when there was a knock. She looked up to see Frank leaning on the doorway, freshly showered and smiling. “I finished practice.”
“I see that. What can I help you with?”
Frank walked in and closed the door. “I believe you promised me something if I finished practice.”
“Did I?” Abby turned back to her screen. “I believe I said maybe.”
“Wow didn’t peg Dr. Hernandez a liar.” He shook his head. “Guess I should go.” He moved towards the door, but Abby ran and grabbed his arm.
“I am no liar, Adler,” she said before pulling him down and kissing him hard.
He looped his arms around her to bring her closer as he deepened the kiss. When they pulled back to breathe, Frank kept his forehead on hers. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Miss me?”
“A little,” she smiled shyly.
“God, I can’t get over how beautiful you look in these suits Cricket. Can’t believe you’re a doctor now.” Regret crept in at the thought of how much he missed.
Abby could see it. “Don’t Frankie. Its ok.” She ran her fingers around the edge of his beard. “You didn’t have this before. I like it.” She bit her lower lip.
“I like how long your hair is now Cricket. I’ve always loved your hair.” He ran his fingers through it. Her inky dark hair was straight today. “But I miss your curls.”
“Oh,” she replied, blushing slightly. “Sorry, it's habit for me to straighten my hair.” She looked away from him but pressed her cheek to his chest.
He could tell she was holding back. “Talk to me Cricket.”
She sighed. “Mike, he’s the one that likes my hair straight.” Tears welled up in her eyes.
“Ok. Its ok.” Frank pulled her in tighter. “You look beautiful either way, my love.” He rocked her to calm her. “Everything is ok baby, don’t cry.”
“Frankie, I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Neither do I, Cricket, but we’ll figure it out. Where is he?”
“He had to go out of town for business for a few days.”
Frank smiled. “Ok, so come have dinner with us. I have to go on that road trip in a couple of days.”
“I know. I’m going on the trip as well”. She smiled. “But I would love to have dinner with you.” Frank followed Abby home and then Abby hopped into Frank’s car. As they drove, Frank reached over and took Abby’s hand, brought it up to his mouth and gently kissed. Abby blushed at the gesture, leading Frank to have a big grin on his face. As they pulled into his neighborhood, Abby became jittery.
“Cricket, what’s wrong?”
“Is Mary going to be mad? I mean, she saw me with Mike and...”
“Don’t worry about Mary. She’s still like the little four-year-old we used to have. She’ll ask a million questions and you’ll be honest with her. The one you should be worried about is Scott. He likes to give the third degree.”
“He does?!” Panic swept over Abby.
“Cricket, I’m kidding. Sorry, that was a bad joke.” He kissed her hand again. “Scott and I have talked about it a few days ago and while he thinks you should just out and dump Mike, I know its more complicated then that.”
During one of their many late night calls, Abby had explained how the house she currently lived in was under her and Mike’s name and how other assets were the same. “I can’t just walk away,” she explained. “And no, you can’t just buy my way out.”
“Why not? Gotta use this money somehow.”
“Frankie,” she whined.
“Cricket, please. I want you to leave. I know you’ve invested but just let the fucker have it and I’ll take care of you. You don’t even have to stay in my room. I have plenty of space.”
They left the conversation hanging from there. Abby was seriously considering his offer, especially with Mike’s violent tendencies. That was something she had no intention of letting Frank know about. He would kill Mike, given the chance. “You promise Scott isn’t mad?”
“Cricket, he’s ecstatic that I’m no longer a grumpy bastard, exact quote.”
She giggled. “He doesn’t know you’ve always been that way, does he Frankie?”
“Oh really.” They stop at a red light and Frank reaches over to tickle her.
“No, stop! Frank!” Abby laughs, trying to bat his hand away. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t think you’re sorry. Maybe you need to convince me.”
“I can do that.” She leaned over and kissed him softly. A horn honked and they looked at the light, which was now green. “Believe me now?”
“Yes, I do,” Frank said with a smile. He pulled into the neighborhood and to his house.
“I didn’t get to see much last time I was here,” Abby commented.
“I’ll give you a tour.” Frank got out and went to open the door for Abby. He took Abby’s hand and walked her in. “Formal room, we really don’t hang out here, Kitchen, for snacks.”
Abby smirked. “You still can’t cook.”
“Nope. Scott usually does.” Frank shrugs. “Anyways, down here is Mary’s playroom and our living room with a Nugget surprise.” He walks her into a light and airy room that faces out to the ocean. A dark blue section dominates the room with a large flat screen and a dark wood coffee table. Which currently has a dancing blonde on it singing to Spice Girls. “Abby!”
Abby smiles and jumps on the table with her.
Tell me what you want, what you really really want
I wanna I wanna
I wanna I wanna
I wanna really, really, really
Wanna zigazig, ah
If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends.
Frank’s watching from the doorway with a smile and Scott joins him. “She’s here,” he says.
“Yep.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Like this is what we had been missing this whole time.” Frank looks at Scott. “I feel like our family is complete. You, me, Mary and Abby. It was meant to be like this.”
“Has she left him?”
He shook his head. “She’s trying to figure out how with all of their stuff. I offered to help but she wants to do this on her own. Correct her mistake, or whatever.” He sighed. “I forgot how stubborn she can be. But,” he smiled again, “she’s here and we are going to do everything we can to help her.”
After dinner, Abby helped Mary get ready for bed. “Can you read to me Abby? Like before?” Mary turned her big blue eyes at Abby. Frank snorted quietly, happy to see she didn’t use those eyes against just him.
“Sure Nugget.” She laid down next to the girl and picked up Charlotte’s Web. As she read, Frank walks away to help Scott clean up. When he returns, he finds his girls asleep in Mary’s bed. He smiles and takes a picture. He reaches and picks up Abby, cradling her to his chest. As he walks her to the guest room, she stirs. “Frankie?”
“Hi my sleepy Cricket. Just putting you into bed.”
“With you?” Her big brown eyes look up at him.
“Are you sure?”
She nods. “Wanna feel safe again,” she says sleepily, closing her eyes again.
Frank’s brows furrowed at the statement. He turns and goes to his room. He pulls a t-shirt for her and sits her on the bed. “Here Cricket, get comfy. I’m going to lock the house.”
“M’kay,” she says, taking the shirt.
Frank locks the house and applies the alarm. Something about the way Abby was afraid In her eyes for just a fraction of a second made him worry. What the hell was happening at her home that she didn’t feel safe? He gets upstairs and sees Abby under the covers. He smiles, kisses her forehead before heading to the bathroom. Coming back, he removes his shirt, leaving him in pajama bottoms. He climbs in and starts to stare at the ceiling. Is she hurting? he thinks to himself. Not wanting to think about it, he turns, puts an arm around her and pulls her to him, spooning her. He hears her sigh in her sleep. She’s safe and content, and that’s all that matters to him. He kisses her head and quickly falls asleep.
Early morning, and Abby feels warm and comfortable. She wrapped in the scent of Sandalwood and soap. Familiar, comforting, home. She turned to face Frak, still asleep, hair was sticking out everywhere. She smiled and kissed his forehead gently. She moved to climb out but the arm around her waist pulled her back, causing her to giggle. “Morning baby,” he rasped.
His voice is deep in the morning and Abby squirms, closing her thighs. “Morning handsome. I need to get up.”
“No.”
“Frankie, I need to get up!”
He grumbles and lets go of her. “You’re coming right back,” he orders.
“Of course, love.” She darted into the bathroom, taking care of business and climbed back into bed. She sank back into the bed and into the warmth of Frank. “You are so warm,” she sighs.
“Hmm,” Frank tightens his hold on her. “I missed you here, in my arms.” He gently kisses her neck, then moves to right behind her ear, feeling her shiver but letting a small moan escape. “Oh Cricket, you have to know what that does me.” His hands begin to wander. Abby sighs. “Can I touch you baby?”
Abby whimpers, “please.”
Frank slides his hand down her stomach and to the band of her panties. He looked back at her and she smiled. He dipped below and softly grazed through her folds. Her hips bucked at his touch. “Easy baby,” he coos as he continues to stroke gently. “You’re wet, love.”
“Frankie, please don’t tease,” she whines as he pressed on her clit. She let out a loud moan so Frank covered her mouth with his.
“Cricket, you have to be quiet, baby.” His face was right in hers as he sank a finger into her heat. She screwed her eyes closed at the sensation of him moving his finger. She gasped as he added a second. Her eyes snapped open as the palm of his hand began to rub against her clit. “Enjoy it, baby girl.”
“I – I - ,” she lost her voice as her orgasm washed over her. “Frankie,” she whispered.
“Ah fuck. Cricket, you’re squeezing my fingers. Shit.” Frank worked her through as she twitched. As he slowed, she reached up to pull his face down on hers. She kissed him hard but soon he dominated her mouth.
“I need you Frank, fuck I want you,” she whispered.
Frank pulled his shirt off of her body. He places sweet kisses across her collar bone before giving attention to her rosy nipples. Abby tried to keep her moans low, but she was sensitive to him. She could feel his erection on her thigh. She forgot how hard he could be when he was aroused. “You are still so delicious and responsive Abigail,” he rasped. “God I have missed this body, these breasts, this pussy.”
“Franklin...”
“Oh and how you moan my name.” Frank scooted up and looked into Abby’s eyes. “Fuck, Cricket,” as his cock touched the heat of her skin. He took hold of his cock and rubbed his tip through her folds. “Are you ready?” She nodded and gently, he pushed into her. Her face was a vision of pure ecstasy as he filled her up. “Fuck,” moaned Frank as he bottomed out.
“Baby, you need to move,” she whispered. “I don’t know how much more... ahhh,” as Frank snapped his hips. “Shit,” she cried.
“You gotta be quiet baby.”
“I can’t,” she moaned. “I missed you.”
“Fuck, I missed you to Cricket.” He kissed her as he continued to thrust into her. He felt that familiar ripple in his belly. “Tell me you’re close, please baby.”
“Oh Frankie, yes, baby, just a little harder.” Frank lifted her leg to straddle his hip. “Yes, baby, yes.” Abby lost sight of the world as she cummed around him. She was tighter than ever, squeezing his cock it was almost too painful to move. But it was enough.
“Abby!” He finished inside her, pumping his cock in and out to make sure ever drop was in her. He stopped and lay on her, still inside. “Fuck baby, that was incredible.”
“You still got it Adler,” she smirked.
“Yes I do,” he replied with a grin. “Let me get you cleaned up before Nugget makes an appearance.” He took a hand towel and ran some warm water to clean his girl up. He got her dressed and he pulled his sweats back on. “Coffee love?”
“Yes please.” She smiled.
“Even more beautiful than yesterday,” he replied with a kiss to her forehead. He opened his bedroom door. And found Scott, arms folded over his chest. “Morning?” Frank rubbed the back of his neck.
Scott smiled. “You’re a dog Adler.” He turned to walk away. “Good for you.”
Next
Taglist
@patzammit @slutforchrisjamalevans @firephotogrl74 @texmexdarling @jennmurawski13-writes @before-we-get-started @tinkerbelle67 @bunnyforhim
#andy's hea#andy's shenanigans#chris evans fanfiction#frank adler#frank adler au#mlb au#dodger au#ofc abigail hernandez#sliding into home#chris evans#mike weiss#johnny storm#baseball au#frank adler smut#slow burn#chris evans au#cliffhanger queen
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
saved a few anons asking personal questions not all related to panel shows, spamming answers below the cut :)
she/her!
interesting question! first, i think it's very special that you had the opportunity to study at an international university and i am glad to hear you had so many amazing experiences!
i also feel like i need to preface anything i say with... holidays are obviously different from living, and i hope people can trust that i wouldn't base an entire lifestyle decision off, like, being a fan of taskmaster lmao the state of politics, brexit, housing, prejudice, and more make it difficult to say i'd want to commit to life there — plus i really love new york city, where i do feel at home
that said, i would be open to living in the uk for a period of time, yes. i am certainly very motivated to visit a lot of places, particularly in england, and decided last year to start spending a month or two over there every year (this year i think i will be in york! maybe i can post a little about that if people care). the history and motivations behind that decision are really personal to me, but it feels...right. i am really looking forward to my time there this year and treasure being someone who works remotely and can make that happen
living permanently, it's hard to say, but speaking for my interests in history, architecture, art, cinema — it would be wonderful to explore those things more in person, yes!
i really think in the 6+ years of this blog this is the first i've ever been asked about music! which makes sense ofc it just took me by surprise!
hmmm i think this playlist most accurately expresses what i'm listening to a lot of the time + a lot a lot a lot of classical music, some dad rock, and a few balladeers like judy garland and rufus wainwright
i don't claim to be the world's biggest comedy buff or keep up the best with all of the comedy coming out of the uk and american industries — even though i do enjoy it so much! — but growing up i was very interested in comedy writing. in high school, i worked at a dvd store where people could trade in their old dvds for store credit to buy new ones, so we had a HUGE selection of not only new releases but older, sometimes nicher stuff that you typically wouldn't see at a suburban american blockbuster-like shop. i can't stress how formative this was! i would always go through the store and "beautify" the shelves (pulling all the spines up neatly, keeping everything alphabetised, etc) just to constantly look through what we had in stock, grab the old black bar criterion films before some movie buff snatched them up, touch all the special editions (physical releases were more than just steelbooks back then, like stuff like this). each of the employees had a little shelf in the back room where you could store dvds you wanted to buy when you eventually had the money, keeping them off the floor so no customer would see and buy them. i was always reserving 30+ dvds at a time and spent my whole paychecks at work hahaha
anyways, that's how i found a lot of the random british films i ended up loving — by people trading them in or me just running across them at the store: a cock and bull story, death at a funeral, this is england, gosford park, monty python, (particularly holy grail and life of brian), confetti (didn't love this one but it had a lot of actors i really liked in it so i remember watching it quite a few times) and more — but especially withnail and i and in the loop. i was fucking obsessed with in the loop, which i watched on a loop (zing!) and was ultimately how i worked my way backwards to the thick of it as well as shows like the office uk, alan partridge, green wing, fry and laurie, peep show, and more. (the thick of it and peep show were particularly everything to me!) i still have all of the dvds from the dvd store i worked at! lol
in terms of american comedy, i was obsessed with the state and then their groups' projects like wet hot american summer and reno 911 (michael showalter is a great example of a writer/director i don't think is one of the greats but follows his heart & vision, and i really respect that; my fave of his, which is genuinely so good, is hello my name is doris! underrated lil treasure). i also really loved it's always sunny, flight of the conchords, party down, arrested development, jackass and wild boys, and house md, and some of the wild characters on bravo lmao. we had this channel called logo that was my lifeline to queer content before i really had full-time access to the internet outside of a shared family computer, so i was always watching reruns of jeffrey & cole casserole, the big gay sketch show, plus the l word and queer as folk, and they also did syndication of reno 911 (but i already had all the box sets of that 😭). i was never heavy into the judd apatow/bro comedy that was so big in the 2000s, and even the 80s–90s american comedy heavily influenced by the talent at snl wasn't particularly engaging to me; of that, my favourites were probably throw momma from the train and a couple of romcoms
+ every panel show i could get my hands on! and i think because i was really engaged with sketch comedy i was also reading a lot of playwrights, especially alan bennett, harold pinter, and edward albee, who i had (and have!) huge collections of
and, yes, so many of these are at the foundation of my very favourite formats and styles of comedy: mockumentaries , black comedy or dark comedy, existential comedy, stories rooted in reality or plausibility / domestic dramedy. i used to be very engaged by sketch comedy and wanted to crack the science behind writing funny sketches, but i do think i've moved away from that format and filled that void with the improv nature of panel shows (it works for me the way i think the format of podcasts work for so many other people... i wonder if anyone will relate to that comparison)
comedy evolves so much by the decade and i appreciate a lot of the ways in which it has grown, so i don't think of it as a then vs now, which is better, whatever. and like you i can't help but revisit my nostalgic faves often!
i do think eventually he will! but rn he's lapping up that tv money hahaha my very fave is firing cheeseballs at a dog, but they're all genuinely great!
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
ahhh hello n happy openin day 2 us all!! im gemma ( s/h, 21+ ) n i write for jaehyun and sumi!! i've got their individual intros linked bc it's too long to put in one post xo what's new i cannot shut up : )) below r some event plot ideas that i came up w like 2 seconds ago so they're kinda questionable but anw if u r keen to plot pls LIKE this post n i'll come runnin!! and ofc if u have discord pls lmk bc tumblr ims and i have some longstanding beef...
on the night of the event, JAEHYUN is...
not attending the charity gala thx!! jaehyun is very anti together for daehan so he will not give any money 2 support them ( also he is the charity tq curious currenter 4 pointin that out )!! that said, jaehyun will b helpin get the blue hall ready 4 the afterparty so!! any evo members wna help direct him n get him 2 put his superstrength 2 good use!!! boss him around 🥴
ok i will alw push this agenda but any fans of gangcheori!! imagine u see the new capt there n u think this is the PERFECT time 2 share my strategies !! jaehyun's a pretty approachable dude so i feel like he'd take in on board ( tho he is also p proud so ease it on the pushiness mayb.... )
as per the event description im sure there's gna b an accident or two... who better to call 4 help than the dude w superstrength!! imagine u have a friend passed out somewhere questionable n u need help gettin them outta there n back 2 safety!! perhaps that dude breaking things when he walks past can help u out he looks strong...
alternatively a fight breaks out between u n someone else n jaehyun comes n puts a stop 2 it bc he dc ab fights but !! not @ the blue hall party!! this is evo's moment don't turn it into a crime scene!! OR jaehyun is also v trigger happy n easy 2 anger so if someone from together from daehan / other sporting rally houses annoys him n ur muse is tryna step in between... watch out for those hands tho he packs a mean punch!!!
he's probably taken over as the student bouncer at some point during the night ( for like j a short moment tho cause he wna party too!! ) so what if ur muse rocks up late from the charity gala.... how r u gna convince mr t4d suxx
um jaehyun is a classic fuckboy so yk imagine yall ended wrongly or he treated u not gr8 n yall meet for the first time since yall ended things... wyd
on the night of the event, SUMI is...
attending the shit outta that charity gala she's slashin her aunt's life savings by a QUARTER !!! sumi will b dressed 2 the nines bc one thing she will do is turn up !! imagine u have an art piece put up n sumi bids on it!! then comes 2 u n tells u what a good job u did n how pretty it is
alternatively if she hates it n laughs @ it w her friends n ur in earshot... wyd do u fight her sumi loves 2 gossip but one thing she won't do is throw hands she's a wimp like that
sumi will def be hitting the gala w her red hall girlies so!!! red hall girlies wya!!!
this is meant 2 b a classy event n uh oh sumi's alr kinda drunk... she's laughin a lil too loudly n gettin drinks spilled everywhere r u gna try 2 tell her 2 take it easy!! ( note: it will not work she will at some point in the night dash of, see plot below )
as much as sumi loves t4d she also loves blue hall parties so once 10.30pm comes around ya gorl is dashin!! she'll turn up 11.01pm beggin the bouncer 2 let her in... what if ur the bouncer!! girl who CLEARLY is from the gala tryna have her cake ( attend the charity gala ) n eat it too ( attend the blue hall party ) will u let her in...
IF she gets in she's j gna b partyin the night away!! j generic party plots wud b fun 2 explore hehe i.e. gettin drunk n havin smth messy happenin aka someone's passed out on the toilet n that's the only one that's usable n u n sumi rly need to pee... u gna drag them out or what
#nm:intro#—— gemma shut up!#ok tumblr stopped letting me send welc messages n im scared so....... welcome everyone who didnt get a message im so sry....#pls dont shadowban me tumblr im a real person
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
*throws a dozen dress up clowns at your head* Character design!!! murder puppet apologism!!! chemicals turning frogs gay!!! its kero kero time!!!! i dont know how to type up a real bio so im just throwing tidbits fullspeed at your window and also partially me spitballing speghetti against the wall
✨ their name is kero pierrot ofc, and they are a funny little frog clown married to arlequino hehe. keeping with the theme of commedia dell'arte their name is based off the character of the pierrot (and it's also a pun on keroppi since theyre my favorite sanrio character waha)
✨ the Pierrot was a tragic and lovesick figure, portrayed as naïve but endearing, often hiding their true feelings behind their jokes, and was a popular choice for romantic artists
✨ kero is a widdle bit fucked up in the brain zone but its FIIINE just slap a coat of face paint on there and ur good 8) Do not perceive the crushing mental illness behind the curtain
✨ grew up in america ofc, came to japan for reasons that turned out to be highly fallible (they maybe trust people a little too easily), refuses 2 talk abt this, they are however lacking in places to stay and money to spend so start of everything theyre Struggling A Little
✨ at this point they arent even kero really just Person...pathetic sopping wet frog you find under a rock. they had a special interest in clownery but always sort of put those kinds of thoughts to the side as more of a silly daydream than a goal they could achieve
✨ a clown without its nose have you ever seen anything so sad
✨ they first see masaru and the rest of the nakamichi circus when they saw them perform their street show (starting here), they just happened to be in the park at the time, and it's honestly the first time kero has felt happy since they Arrived in japan
✨ magic of the circus
✨ they spend the next few weeks going to the park and sorta following the nakamichi circus around to see more of their street shows, they don't really have much else to do anyway, they might as well spend some time having fun watching a circus act
✨ they attend so many that they actually start getting recognized by some of the circus members, especially masaru and shirogane since theyre very Perceptive. not a lot of details on those thoughts currently but masaru probably does his Main Protag/Therapist thing and gets to know kero
✨ BUT the way they actually join the nakamichi circus is during the performers meetup (starting here), kero goes to see their show again, but then things start Going Very Wrong and masaru's left by himself with no one to perform with. Little guy problems
✨ they've seen how much masaru and the others have been working and struggling in the past weeks, improving their street show, their cooperation with each other, and even if masaru hadn't talked to them they couldn't stand seeing something that made them so happy go down in flames like this
✨ SO! they hop in with vilma naota and mitsuushi to save the act! they don't have circus training like them so they can't do any fancy acts, but kero knows how to improv and roll with the punches, so they play off of the others as second zanni to liven up the show
✨ after that, i think they'd try to slip away quietly (kind of cant believe they did that) but masaru goes after them and asks them to join the circus!
✨ he knows that they wanted to be a clown, and even without formal training, he thinks having a western style clown will help the nakamichi circus stand out from the crowd! (also a call back to this moment in the manga when they went to see the straw circus)
✨ this is when they actually introduce themselves as Kero Pierrot to the others. there is no other name only Clown
✨ this has been a lot of masaru talk so far sorry he's my little buddy inflicted with main character disease. also i dont get a chance to meet my husband until like chapter 380 so i gotta be doin smth in the mean time
✨ from here on, kero sticks with the nakamichi circus as their new home :) they already knew a lot about clowning, but they really throw themselves into studying it as best they can (usually by spending hours at a library computer since most don't really have a textbook on clowns) and also training with the other members to sorta expand their repertoire. they get a lot better at the classic clown skills, your juggling, your balloon animals, what have you, BUT they also start to learn the cyr wheel!
✨ kero and masaru bond over doing circus training together. i give him a little noogie.
✨ they become pretty close with ryouko and lise too !! i jus love all my circus family i get them to play board games with me
✨ Peaceful Life (Until Its Not)
✨ this post as already gotten so long (and also i wanna reread some parts of the manga to refresh my mindself) so at some point i will expand on kero's feelings irt masaru running away and narumi joining nakamichi circus, but theres a couple other important points i want to make :V
✨ kero sorta takes a back seat with the rest of the nakamichi gang until they show up at kuroga village
✨ Specifically they join lise heima and ryouko in going to mont-saint-michel to follow masaru (they are NOT!!! letting these children go off on their own to fight!!!!)
💕 this is when they meet arlequino hehe 💕
✨ they stay by ryouko's side while they fucking Book It form the shirogane-o, and that's when they run into arle
💕 sorry ryouko but I'M the one who smiles at him 💕
✨ i should make a separate post of the manga panels i'm def in. and/or rewrite the scene as a fic which i might do at some point but just wait
💕 anyway this post is long enough so all you have to know is we get married and now hes my malewife Arlequino Pierrot 💕
💕 tagging my karakuri buddies @dissonantyote @lameassboyfriend (i hope dats oke)
#this is UNGODLY long im so sowwy#this is just a long list of hand wavy ideas and vague shit but hey at least its kind of lore right#maybe someday it will be coherent#si; karakuri circus#selfship#selfshipping#self ship#self insert#frog croak#flash tw#for the blinkie
14 notes
·
View notes
Note
12, 16, 18 for the ask game!
love the gerard headerbtw!!!
Sorry omfg I zoned out, I stared at my fuckin wall for like an hour and didn't even realize;; also thanks!! I saw that pic and went ah fuck... i wanna be that... gonna make that my header. I was gonna have it be the Unkillable drum head but it wouldn't fit right;;
12) Your favorite music genres?
Rock is definitely my #1, but I literally am willing to try anything out. I typically only listen to really upbeat or like, energetic music? Basically not like, slow sad or really sappy ballads, even if I like the song. The slow tempos sometimes bum me out. As long as its fun, I'll probably like it! But I grew up with classic rock, so thats always gonna be a fave.
16) Do you have any tattoos? If not, would you like to?
I don't because well, 1) they cost money, 2) I'm terrified of needles being anywhere near me (minus sewing needles... like needles specifically made to go into skin, those I hate)
But I do have ideas I'd love to get if I can muster the courage! This is gonna be a bit long, buckle in.
The first I would want is one that combines all the enemy emblems from the Kingdom Hearts series (not 100% sure how to design it but I just want a KH related tattoo, it's been in my life since I was 3). Emblems for reference:
The next is for Jonghyun, I want to get his name tattooed behind my ear, where he had one for his She Is album, except maybe on the other side and with a moon motif with it. Also it'd be the Korean spelling and in the She Is font. (This is the album cover, sorry its small)
And tbfh the most recent one is Franks "Unkillable". This one may phase out, idk, I've had a few tattoo ideas that have because I was just super fixated on a thing, but just... it's powerful man.
Oh and maybe some tarot card thing. Maybe a Page of Swords since I consider that my significator card.
18) Do you like reading? If yes, what's your favorite book?
Ofc I love reading, I want to be a fulltime author someday, reading kinda comes with the job! But even as a kid I was a big reader. Lately it's been... tough? I've read more than I have in years though.
Uuuuh I dunno what I'd say my favorite book is... But I can give some recent favorites! I finished the The Mirror Visitor series by Christelle Dabos recently and I thought it was so good! Also the A Darker Shade Of Magic trilogy by V. E. Schwab was very good! I also read another book by her, Vicious, super quickly, it was like, villainy and best friends turned rivals and like macabre x-men and ofc found family and it was AMAZING! I own the new sequel, Vengeful, but haven't gotten to it yet;;
My to read list is so fucking long, but instead of reading physical books I keep reading fanfics that are novel length... whoops...
Also my current read is Fellowship Of The Ring. I told my bff Holly that I'd finally get to reading it bc LOTR is probably her favorite thing ever.
#hello i don't know how to keep things concise for the life of me#the first one literally could have been a one word answer but noooo
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Did you know that Saltburn was originally titled The Talented Mr Ripoff?
Can you imagine how much worse of a situation culturally we'd find ourselves in if they casted thimothy like they wanted to
I think there's more to me being upset about it than not getting anything out of horny boys
It's not punk rock to self compare to John waters, it's something you have bestowed on you, this was not earned
"It felt plagiarized" was a thought before I even knew about the Mr Ripley movie, which I did watch today (with a migraine) and it was fantastic and written by a lesbian apparently, so I hate to say I told you so but,
How did saltburn manage to run that movie through a sieve and toss out the gems
[Straight white rich people talking abt gay people, of course they'll miss the point]
The only time I had a real response during saltburn is when I was triggered at the loss of his alcoholic dad , and then it turned out to be a lie? What a fucking insult
So he's just an empty psychopath? Is he really that hot, is that the power that Male hotness has? We're in Danger fr if he's some kind of bi king icon
It's written by a fucking rich woman about rich people, casting an actor who irl lost his addict mom as a kid to play someone who pretended to lose his addict parent to manipulate silly innocent rich people
Good cinematography does not inject a believable or even identifiable motivation into the characters the same as Good CGI doesn't make Avatar not colonizer propaganda
It does seem to lull an audience into an entertainment flow state, in combination with shock value sex shit
Which seems like the sex shit was not even as shock value as something like the torso vagina from brand new cherry flavor, which is just queer coded body horror (which ofc I cherish)
Saltburn is just another glossy package of the type of queerness that straight people want to gasp at
Which brings me to:
At The Wake of a Dead Drag Queen
Can you guess what could a drag queen possibly die from? What's the most derivative thing you can come up with?
Yes AIDS still exists, but let me go verify with Google that prep existed once we had flip phones tho
2012
So granted the iPhone came out in 2007 but nobody had it yet, especially not poor drag queens, probably til 2012
The phone was the only clue I had to the time period this play occurs
So the point is
Why do we need another dies of aids story?
So straight people can continue to think of aids when they think of gay men? And why do they need to think of gay men when they think of drag for that matter?
You don't need to have aids to have a captivating sympathetic relatable story that humanizes a queer person
You don't need to be catty, bitchy, and hypersexual to be a drag queen. Even my straight man friend doing tech for the show was like "this seems oldschool" because how could you live in this city and see a drag show and think that this narrow ass view is still it?
I'm sick of stories about us being like you put the gutter bumpers up at the bowling alley so you could shoot whatever shot you want without risk
We queers are lords of the gutters and we are striking
Neither of these stories are for queer people because they don't believe queer money exists apparently, which... consider giving us money
but you'd hope queer people love good writing, at least, even if homosexuals and straight women could do without when they could just see dick on screen and have a nice time
If you don't need good writing to sell tickets then sure, ask ChatGPT to make a homosexual story for the straight eye
If you want examples of good movies that are queer, and decidedly not homosexual,
Everything Everywhere All at Once
Barbie
And,
Poor Things
Oh, and of course, The Talented Mr Ripley
Coming up next, I defend why these are all queer if not on their face but in subtext, by asserting that since I'm queer and I liked the film, they must be queer films. In this essay I will--
0 notes
Note
1. Idk how I missed your follow celebration but i hope not too late!! It’s the 29th where I am! First of all congratulations on the follow count! Second can I please request a ship request and a bestie request? I’m bisexual so either gender is fine! Here we go:
2. I go by she/her and am 20 so I don’t mind some nsfw!
3. Appearance:
As for looks, I’m 5’1, average build, tanned olive type skin, dark brown eyes, full lips, dark brown shoulder length wavy/kinda curly hair with curtain bangs. I also wear glasses with a slight cat eye to them.
4. Personality:
For personality I’m creative, introverted, and individualistic. Though I’m introverted, around my friends I can be quite talkative, humorous and outgoing. However I definitely treasure my alone time the most.
5. Hobbies/Interests:
As for hobbies escaping to new worlds while reading books/comics, watching movies, and playing rpg video games. My favorite genres are fantasy and sci-fi, though I do love a good classic from time to time. Apart from that, I love working out.
My interests on the other hand are art focused. I’m currently in art school working with both digital and traditional mediums. I love my practice and everything from interaction design and digital illustration to graphite drawings and inking.
6. Likes/dislikes:
Likes: coffee, chai tea, dark chocolate, rock/blues/jazz/ music, cafe art shows, arcades, comic book stores, purple, thai/Indian/Chinese food, roller blading to classic rock with the wind in my hair, quality alone time
Dislikes: people i am unfamiliar with and have to make small talk with, the biting cold, rain, non fiction, staying too close to reality and not being allowed to daydream/imagine/roam freely in my thoughts, physical touch, overly crowded areas
Random stuff
My favorite planet is Dathomir. Don’t ask why but I love the aesthetic and the witchy spookiness. Also maul and ventress yes pls. Idk if I’d want to live there but the vibes are immaculate.
If I had to live on a planet tho it’d prolly be Naboo, Alderaan or coruscant (pre empire ofc)
Thank you and congrats once again!
Hey there!! You're absolutely fine, your request was before the deadline (I'm so sorry it took me so long to get this out I'm such a flake oml lol). Thank you so much for participating, and I hope the week has been treating you well so far!
Sam's Pen and Sword Follower Celebration (Closed)
Danzalladagger's Follower Celebration Request
Ship request 👄
Okay, okay, okay, okay, listen. The sequel trilogy I know is pretty polarizing, especially here on Tumblr (I don't write for them most of the time), but you and Rey would be so CUTE!!! She sees your art and she literally had no idea that something could be so beautiful. You get a bit bashful because it's just a rough sketch and the dimensions are all off and tbh it was really just a warmup but Rey falls in love with it and it warms your heart so much you give it to her. She scrimps and saves money to get it properly matted and framed and she just adores it. Also, pls get this girl some healthy emotional relationships she would just flourish on Naboo. The water!! The greenery!! It's warm enough for you both but it's not a desert! HUGE plus. The war ends and Rey just wants to come home with you, to a peaceful place where she doesn't feel weighed down by her past and her powers and her responsibility. She wants a place where her friends came come and go and enjoy being there. She loves that her friends can become your friends. But the both of you also get overwhelmed with too much social interaction, and quiet nights in together, ones where Rey sits and tinkers with some mechanical bits and bobs. Ones where you've ordered takeout and you're sitting working on a new piece of art or reading Space-Dracula with Space-Ella Fitzgerald playing quietly in the background. Peaceful nights. A peaceful life. It's everything Rey didn't realize she wanted until you came along.
"It wasn't that bad."
You were a bit pale in the face. For all your interests and talents, a pilot you were not. Your beautiful, powerful, pure partner, however, was a pilot of extreme skill. But every time she flew it was like she was in battle, and the ride had gotten a bit rocky there.
You'd think you'd be used to it by now.
"Rey, my love, you fly like Poe was on your ass."
"Poe could only hope to keep up with me."
You giggled a little. Poe was also a fantastic pilot, and he and Rey had had a few "friendly" competitions to see which one was better. And every single time, they asked you and Finn to judge.
And every single time, you and Finn stayed the fuck out of it and were happy to let your partners be competitive little flyboys. You and Finn were quite happy to gallivant off towards a coffee shop with pastries and laugh at their antics.
"Good thing he's not here to hear that," you said. "He'd be squaring up right now."
"Again, he could only hope to keep up with me."
You laughed again, with a fond little roll of your eyes, and reached up to kiss her cheek.
"Come on, Reybird, home's awaiting."
Rey smiled, that beautiful, radiant smile of hers. The one that made your cheeks warm and stomach flutter. The one that had stolen your heart. The one that you did not want to go a single day without seeing.
And it felt like you were already home.
Bestie request 😎
I came this 🤏 close to putting Sabine Wren down as your ship request, but the more I thought about it, the more I thought you two would be better suited as besties. (Also I hope you're okay with me putting down a Rebels character 😊). You two would bond so easily over art. Sabine is also well-known for her individuality, creativity, independence, and introversion. Sure, she loves being with her friends and family, but sometimes Sabine just needs some goddamn alone time. And you just have to do, "same lol." I think Sabine and you would also love meeting up at your favorite (space) Thai joints cause you two can handle spice and no one else on the Ghost Crew can lol. You and Sabine would also love working out together, giving each other shit for being out of shape lol, griping and being dramatic about how tired you are.
You could hear the gentle hiss of Sabine's paint gun somewhere around the corner from you. You wondered if she was leaving behind her trademark starbird or if she was leaving something a little more detailed. The longer the paint gun went, you knew she was painting something a bit bigger than her signature symbol.
Your own piece was coming along nicely. A smirk curled at your lips as the details and colors came together, a mural of pure beauty materializing and giving the drab slate durasteel wall a bit more character.
Your didn't use a paint gun yourself, only for linework. You preferred a classic brush to blend and apply the colors of your work. Even if it took a bit longer.
You weren't worried. You and Sabine had yet to be caught.
A few more flicks of your brush brought the piece together. And with a quick arc of some black paint with your gun, the piece was done.
"Nice."
Sabine had finished her own work and was now sniggering at your mural.
You smirked over your shoulder at her. Your mural was a wonderful rendition of one Grand Admiral Thrawn being strangled by that chimaera he seemed so fond of.
You were quite proud of it.
"Thanks." You slapped up a stencil and sprayed with your gun, leaving your own symbol to sign your work. "What's yours?"
Sabine's was as comical and poignant as your own. It featured a figure cloaked in black, a figure you recognized as The Emperor, with a lightsaber through his ass.
You sighed a little dramatically. Oh, if only.
"Come on, I've still got some ideas to get out that will get me grounded if Kanan or Hera sees." Sabine flourished her paint gun.
You barked a laugh. "Then I want to see it!"
Sabine grinned, and as the two of you darted through the city to find your next displays, you left behind nothing but fresh paint and the knowledge that rebels had been there.
Rebels were everywhere.
#samspenandsword follower celebration#samspenandsword 300 follower celebration#follower celebration#300 follower celebration#300 followers#star wars ship request#ship request#ship requests#sabine wren#rey#i don't want to call her rey skywalker#danzalladagger#honorable mentions for the ship request are obi-wan kenobi and bodhi rook
1 note
·
View note
Note
Miss Baek I forgot to include this in my previous message:
NOT MY DREAM but my friend who barely has any dreams was probably influenced by me talking about Hwa, so he showed up in her subconscious. This is what she sent me:
"I was camping on a beach in Alaska with some river guide, a few other random people and Seonghwa. The guide was trying to figure out how to feed us for the night so he slaughtered a giant whale. Hwa was mad that he killed something massive just to sink the rest of the body. We were also arguing over how he cut up the meat. I woke up in the middle of everyone arguing over why we killed the whale."
Sounds pretty awful ngl, they were also on a small wooden boat, BUT SEONGHWA HAD WAIST LENGTH BLACK HAIR 😭😭😭😭 how can I enter her mind I NEED TO PERCEIVE THIS SEONGHWA 😳😳😳😳
What about an AU... minus the whale killing maybe, but... lost somewhere on the sea with long haired Hwa. Rapunzel era Seonghwa when 😩 - DV 💖
hi !!
Baek?! Jwyeuusshahs was it a good dream?! 👀
yes☺️
Laundry boy Hwa my beloved <3 my brain is creating its own AUs every single night, lol
LMFAOOOO no bc same 😭😭 some of those scenarios id never put out omg 😭😭 i rmr having this one dream where i was in the sm practice studio? and u know the beginning song of that porn thing 😭😭 the one ppl did challenges too where they played it and see who’s head turned 😭😭😭 i did that in my dream where i played it fhfhf coincidentally baekhyun was there and he shot his head up and then i got scolded for it???? bRO U RECOGNIZED IT FBWMFJWK
I did take a photo of me giving the middle finger to SM's building, so it was the first step in my revenge, lmaooo. Gonna plan my next move soon... I really don't wanna give my money to any big company, but SM especially yet I can't stop cause Shinee and Taeyeon and Hyo and some other soloists... I bought Kai's and Baekhyun's albums too 😩 I wanna be free from SME so bad
YES YES OH MY GOD WHAT A ICON !!!!!!! there should be a trend to do that pose tbh,, but then sm would sue 😭😭 YEAH NAUR SAME but their artists 😩😩 not the new ones but the older one’s music is so 🤌🏼🤌🏼✨😮💨 i can’t help but do it,, sm rly has us fans on the slave contract for more than 10+ years
At least Hannah could still sing, right?! Feetless, but still slaying. And please don't ask about the head thing, I had problems okkk...
NO BATTERY 😭😭 no bc anon what the fuck were u and ur friend on 😭😭😭🔫
Damn the scent must be strong then :o omg do you know them?! https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/51xurg7EyqL._AC_SY355_.jpg I had the 🍑 one also 🍒 and they were so cute plus smelled nicely, I carried them in my pockets
I DO BUT I NEVER EVER GOT THEM 😭😭😭 id get those glare eyes and a shake of head and i knew i wasn’t getting, do u rmr the chapstick phase 😭😭😭😭 LIKE A BOX OF CHAPSTICKS
I actually only like half of the Ep Fin 🙊 I had a change of heart and love Ep 3 now (Illusion is not my beloved, but it's bearable) I also revisited their debut back in 2020 and tbh no skip for me, love the tropical vibes. Still ZFP1 is my fave fave! I really can't wait for what they have in store I'm hoping for something hard-hitting and rock inspired, but from that little spoiler Seonghwa was giving I'm not sure...maybe he's fucking with us. Shit I almost forgot we're getting the JP cb soon, ROOOOOCKYYYYYY. Hopefully people don't abandon bodyguard Hwa in favour of boxer Hwa 😳
i would like to say, dazzling light superior >>> FBWMDHEK UR A WAVE GIRLIE ME TOO !!! no bc kpop needs more tropical music, we need winner back 😭😭😭😭 HEY HEY I WILL HUNT U ALL DOWN IF U GUYS CHANGE BODYGUARD TO BOXER 🔫 I WILL GIVE THAT SAD ENDING FHKWHDKW
Yes, ofc I interview myself, I argue with myself, I agree with myself kausiayshshwgdsh Kokobop omfgggg and Wave 💙 I do like fresh scents the most, fruity ones too! Not a big fan of flowery, many flowers make me sneeze. And pls don't steal everything or I will have to arrest you :(
YES YES 😭😭😭 and utopia! i feel like u give those vibes! some flowery scents r labeled as not strong but they are SO strong???? I WILL MAKE A HEIST AND ROB YOU RN ARREST ME 🔫
You're living my dream damn! Loverholic, robotronic, loverholic, robotronic 🤪
LMFAOOOO idk what sm was on during that era but truly so legendary along with snsd’s hypertonic supersonic 😭😭😭
Today I have this lil video to offer. I'm obsessed with it and it's back on my tl 😭 he's ao cute, Seyoung my baby. I mean that's just Hwa let's face it. 🥨 boy, pls give him all the pretzels in the world: https://twitter.com/hwalilac/status/1522602163494879232?t=FIDYL5wscxM0TUD3Vnh9sg&s=19
SCREAMING HES SO FUCKING CUTE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 TAKE ALL THE PRETZELS TAKE THEM TAKE THEM
So I haven't been reading webtoons recently I seriously need to catch up on reading and some kpop content 😭😭😭😭 but I found a new webtoon called Long After The Ending and the plot is so interesting and pretty unusual!
👁👁 gonna go add that in rn!
Uhm also do you know those ASMR NSFW videos on YT? Sometimes when I search for MARS ASMR I get that one video called "ASMR Seonghwa moans" in my suggestions 😬 It's obviously not him, though some people in the comments genuinely thought so 💀 I never listened to it for longer than 10 seconds. But today I was showing someone his AMSR content and they were like "uhhh and what is THAT"
i DO! theres a what… 👁
And then my bestie reminded me of a cam boy Seonghwa and porn star Seonghwa fanfics. 🤚🏻 Jesus has left the chat long time ago... there's no hope for us - DV 💖
HDMWHDKWJDKW STOP BC THERES SO MANY GOOD ONES HERE PLS 😭😭😭
NOT MY DREAM but my friend who barely has any dreams was probably influenced by me talking about Hwa, so he showed up in her subconscious. This is what she sent me:
"I was camping on a beach in Alaska with some river guide, a few other random people and Seonghwa. The guide was trying to figure out how to feed us for the night so he slaughtered a giant whale. Hwa was mad that he killed something massive just to sink the rest of the body. We were also arguing over how he cut up the meat. I woke up in the middle of everyone arguing over why we killed the whale."
LMFAOOOO????????? SEONGHWA FISHER!AU?????? seonghwa titanic au…
Sounds pretty awful ngl, they were also on a small wooden boat, BUT SEONGHWA HAD WAIST LENGTH BLACK HAIR 😭😭😭😭 how can I enter her mind I NEED TO PERCEIVE THIS SEONGHWA 😳😳😳😳
he what.
What about an AU... minus the whale killing maybe, but... lost somewhere on the sea with long haired Hwa. Rapunzel era Seonghwa when 😩 - DV 💖
LMFAOOOO FHWKDHWK READER AS FLYNN RIDER AND HWA AS RAPUNZEL 😭😭😭😭 PLS IT WOULD BE A DREAM TO READ IT
0 notes
Text
This is my first time writing for rdr2 and also my first time using this format so please don't judge
javier x a heavily pregnant reader im talking like extremely hormonal in a fuck load of pain just waiting to relise this crotch demon (set in shady belle) tw: spoilers about character deaths minor angst and details abt child birth
To say the least he would be really concerned for your and the baby's health
Would probably be asking some of the women around camp (like Abigail a miss Grimshaw) if it's normal for you to be pregnant for this long and still not give birth
They reassure him its ok and just tell him the best thing he can do is try and find some remedies that can induce labor
he rides out immediately to get said remedies because 1 he can't stand to see you in pain and 2 he can't wait any longer to meet his baby
Anytime he leaves camp he makes sure to give you and your belly a bunch of hugs and kisses beforehand
He hates going far from camp scared of missing his child's birth
When you guys had moved into the new camp duch gave you guys your own bedroom not wanting you to sleep on the ground
At night when you two are laying in bed he will wrap his arms around you feeling up your baby bumb
When the O'Driscolls raided the camp he pulled you into cover immediately making sure you were safe praying to whatever God out there that you didn't get hit by any bullets
Luckily Charles was taking cover behind a wagon right next to yall and helped him get you inside as fast as possible
Javier normally doesn't cry in front of people but his eyes were filled with tears once he held you his arms asking you " mi amor are you alright?! You didn't get hit did you? Please tell me our baby's okay!" Whilst holding his hands on your tummy
After you reassure him that you and the baby are okay he kisses your head and tells you to stay in cover while he gose helps the others
After the ramianing O'Driscolls run off and everyone Is going back outside looking at keirens dead body javier encourages you to stay inside
Mainly cause he's scared of anything else hurting you
He's pretty tense the next few days not wanting to be more then a foot away from you in fear for your life
Ofc the day he finally decides you can be out his sight safely is when you finally go into labor
As he's sitting by the edge of the alligator infested water all he hears is you scream In pain and he's jumping up running as fast as can towards you
Once he finds you your already being helped by miss Grimshaw into the tent she had set up specifically for when you gave birth
He followed in asking all sorts of questions until he was silenced by your yells of pain that's when just shut up and held your hand letting Ms Grimshaw take over striping you of your skirt and undergarments and placing a blanket over you
He felt stressed watching you in so much pain as birth was not exactly a fast 123 done type thing
You were in labor for 30 painful hours
You would squeeze his hand so hard his knuckles turn white
He would be trying his best to comfort in his native language you buy given your in labor trying to translate what's he saying is not top of your to do list "mi amor lo estas haciendo tan bien"(translation: my love you are doing so well) you just glare at him "either speak English or shut the hell up"
Once you finally give birth to a healthy baby girl javier Is crying tears of joy while holding his little angel in his arms smiling seeing you finally getting some peaceful rest
Oh any you know he is extremely protective of both you and the baby girl you decided to name Veronica after his late mother
The two of you have him wrapped around your fingers
When he was leaving to go rob the Saint Denise Bank he gave you a loving kiss and huge you and Veronica tightly "Los amo a los dos más que a nada en este mundo"(translation: I love you both more than anything in this world)
Ofc when he didn't return it worried you
You feared having to raise this baby on your own whilst mourning your husband
As Charles returned he informed everyone about hosea and Lenny's death and that everyone else escaped on a boat
All you could think about was javier
And all he could think of was you and Veronica pleading whilst being dragged by a donkey "¡por favor! Tengo esposa e hija"(translation: please! I have a wife and daughter)
When he had returned first thing you did when you saw him was jump into his arms crying "I thought you died!" He would hold you close "mi amor I would never leave you and Veronica "
He cried first time he held Veronica again much like he did when she was born
As yall moved camp to beaver hallow you two would have some arguments "you keep doing these goddamn suicide missions your going to leave our baby fatherless!!" He groaned "amor I don't have a choice I just want a better life for us!" You shook your head "yes because being a widowed mother is a better life!!"
One night he was holding Veronica rocking her to sleep and arthur walked up to him looking more sickly then ever
"Your a great father Javier "
"I know "he didn't even look at arther just his baby girl
"Look I get your loyal to duch but something bad is about to happen and I want you and your family safe when that goes down"
"What do you want me to do?! Go up and run with my wife and kid?! I have no money im wanted almost everywhere I go and I haven't know a life where I wasn't on the run since I was a teenager!"
Arthur reached in his coat and pulled out a stack of money placing it on the table in front of javier "just think about your family first "and walked away
The next night you and javier were packing up a wagon just a few more things then you two would get out of there
Arthur came over watching you two pack "I see you listened to my advice javier "
"I had to I can't keep my family at risk like this it's not how I want my daughter raised "javi said as he packed the last bag "thank you Arthur "
"Don't thank me" Arthur shook his head
You walked over and gave him a big hug "im gonna miss you the most. I'll make sure Veronica remembers her uncle Arthur "you smiled
Arthur just smiled and looked at Veronica "that girls gonna go far in life".he then looked at javier again "what are you waiting for get out of here before someone notices!"
Javier helped you get on the wagon then handed you Veronica before getting on himself taking the reines you waved at Arthur as you rode off
#javier escuella#javier escuella x reader#red dead redemption two#rdr2 spoilers#arthur morgan#angst#i love javier#Javier
213 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
thenekomimigamer
TheNekoMimiGamer
sewermageboy
and there will be no templars to tear them apart
thebookwormslair
The Reading Nook
splitting-infinities
bonjour planet
ballburstingqueen273
Ballburstingqueen👿😈