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badbtssmut · 2 days

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I'd love momo!!! (like hirai momo from twice??)

streamer!jk x assistant!oc (changed the weverse thing to a regular streaming platform, but you can go for it if you like!)

oc is Jungkook s assistant, and he's helping him with some home stuff. one of the clausules on her contract is that whenever they are alone, she has to wear like the sluttiest lingerie ever. they never fucked, but jk just enjoys watching oc big tits bounce. but this time he gets super horny and asks oc to give him a tit fuck, and while she's at it (she has been waiting for this moment for weeks), he decides to go on live, but they can only see him from the chest up on the live. then he tells her to get on all fours, and fuck her while he's still on live and everyone sees them

this is the lingerie I picture her wearing: https://www.tumblr.com/ithurtswhennn/726328691158892544/levi-coralynn?source=share

🐮 🐮 🐮

Inspo links: https://twitter.com/24hrplayhouse/status/1772446197145379161?t=o8osxq3JN9UH62H9Ruzfiw&s=19

https://twitter.com/helIishporn/status/1727148849456705991?t=_YM91xBRuwsamiJGJacquw&s=19

https://twitter.com/helIishporn/status/1762978556013928533?t=Y-c4jJr6zJ9A8-B0yfTY2g&s=19

ibb.co/8z3yXPt

—

Fuck, there was something about his shaft disappearing in those massive tits, the tip poking out with every thrust. It was exactly how he imagined it to be.

It was the first time you were helping him out with his cock, and he loved it. His hand rested on your head as you tit fucked his cock, his tongue resting over his bottom lip as he read the comments on his live stream.

He looked back down at you, and saw you staring up at him, your eyes focused on him, not his cock. You were looking at him, waiting for instructions. He smirked and patted the top of your head.

“Get on the bed, all fours.” Jungkook ordered, and you scrambled to your feet.

This was really happening, wasn’t it? You fantasized about this so many times but for it to actually happen…

You snapped out of your thoughts as he grabbed onto your hand and led you to the bed, and you did as you were told, getting on all fours. You grabbed a nearby pillow, covering your face from the webcam that was pointed at the two of you. You didn't want your face to be on live for everyone to see.

Jungkook chuckled, but didn’t seem to mind.

[Uhm what’s going on?]

[Who is that?]

[Are they gonna fuck???]

Jungkook leaned down, his hands running up your sides. You felt him press his body against yours, before he slipped your panties down to your knees, his cock rubbing against your pussy. You shivered, pressing yourself back against him. Then, he started to dry hump you, his hips bouncing against your ass and his cock sliding past your ass and pussy lips, and you couldn't help but whimper in anticipation.

“Sensitive, hm? I haven’t even put it in yet...”

You whined, biting your lip as you felt the tip of his cock rub against your clit. It felt so good, and the more he rubbed against you, the more wet you got.

He finally stopped and lined up the tip of his cock to your pussy, before slowly pushing himself inside. You gasped, your toes curling as you felt him fill you up completely. He felt so fucking good, and when he ensured that every inch was in you, you let out a breathless moan.

[Holy shit they actually gonna fuck?]

[I can’t believe this is happening lol]

[Her body is so hot tho]

He held onto your waist, and slowly began to move his hips, and you couldn't help the moans that spilled out of your mouth. He was barely doing anything but… you couldn’t help but feel so overwhelmed by him. When you got used to his size, he started to go faster, his hands gripping tightly onto your skin.

You buried your face in the pillow, whimpering into it as you felt the tip of his dick slam against your sweet spot. You bit down onto the pillow, the feeling of him being so close to you, touching you, inside of you… It was enough to melt your brain.

Jungkook didn’t say anything and neither did you, the only sounds being your bodies merging together. You were so wet that the sound was audible even over the live, and Jungkook’s grunts were just as loud. You started to move along, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts.

You closed your eyes, losing yourself in the pleasure of having him inside of you, then, suddenly he pulled out and pushed you to your side, laying behind you and pushing himself in again, he fucked you from the side, the viewers having a full look at your body while they could see his cock pounding into you.

His hand slid under your body, grabbing a handful of your breasts, squeezing it as his pace grew rougher and rougher. You were a moaning mess, whimpering his name far too many times as he continued to fuck you hard.

[Wow]

[This is hot]

[Im jealous I want her body]

“A-ah!” You squealed, arching your back as you felt yourself cum all over his cock, and that seemed to have set him off, his pace growing sloppier and sloppier as he fucked you through your orgasm, and then he came, his seed filling you up to the brim.

[Holy shit I came to this too lol]

[is this even legal?]

[Are they done now?]

#bts smut #bts x reader #bts requests #bts smut requests #bts fanfic #bts smut fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook x female reader #jungkook x yn #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook smut fanfic

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riordanness · 4 months

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tolerate it — [p.mellark]

wordcount: 3.9K

warnings: slight death mentions, but bro it’s the hunger games what did you reallllllly expect

requested: yes!! @ornellastreet <33

I didn’t think it was possible for my mood to get worse after being reaped, but hearing his name called out over the loudspeaker definitely made me feel like hitting something.

“Peeta Mellark!” The chipper lady, Effie, is way over the top about all this. I mean, I get that it’s her job and all, but we’re kids, fighting to the death. We aren’t lottery winners or something.

I watch as the all too familiar blond boy’s face goes pale, then stare as he slowly makes his way towards the platform, toward me. He doesn’t look me in the eyes at first, just simply takes his place beside Effie.

“We have our tributes!” Effie squeals excitedly. “Now, shake hands, you two.”

Great. I clench my jaw as I hold my hand out to Peeta. He hesitates for just a second, but when he sees my expression, he quickly shakes my hand.

“Excellent!” Effie claps, and I feel the ridiculous urge to slap her wig off.

“Come along, both of you.” Effie waves us into the back rooms of the Justice Building. As I follow her and Peeta, I glance back over my shoulder, at what is probably my last look at home.

I sit beside Peeta, my fingers tracing the soft blue velvet of the couches in this ridiculously extravagant train car. I stare out the window, watching the world flash by faster and faster, till I get dizzy and have to stop. Then I stare at the floor.

Every part of me is aware of the boy only a few inches away. If I leaned even slightly, I would be brushing shoulders with him.

After noticing this, I quickly lean the other direction. I rest my hot forehead against the cool glass window, close my eyes, and try to pretend this is all a dream.

“Well, well, well.” A drawling male voice comes from somewhere above me, and I wake with a start. I must’ve fallen asleep in my chair, which almost impresses me because I was sure I’d been too scared to sleep.

I squint up and recognise Haymitch, the only living victor of District Twelve. He had a glass of alcohol in his left hand, and is waving the other hand at me. “Up, up!” he insists.

I get to my feet uncertainly, glancing around for a sign of Peeta.

“The boy’s already gone,” Haymitch says. “We’re arrived.”

“Arrived?” I ask. “Where?”

He spreads his hands, like ‘are you stupid?’. “The Capitol, sweetheart. Now come on. Everyone’s waiting for you.”

Honestly? It wasn’t how I’d pictured it. I haven’t ever seen much of the Capitol, but the image in my head was way off. Everything was way more extravagant and expensive and ridiculous than I could ever have imagined.

We’ve been here almost two days now. Last night was the parade, where me and Peeta were basically lit on fire and forced to hold hands while all the Capitol citizens stared at us like we were circus animals. I hated every second of it.

I stand now in my room, on Floor 12 of this stupid tribute apartment complex. I stare out the windows, watching the Capitol go by. My fingers fidget with the satin sleeve of my new top, the most fancy thing I’ve worn to date.

I glance at the clock on the wall, and remember I’d better get going to dinner. Effie, Haymitch, Peeta, and apparently our stylists will all be waiting for me.

I hurry.

At the table, I’m forced to sit beside Peeta, much to my annoyance. He leaves me alone, though, which is more than I can say about Effie, who is peppering me with questions. I answer as little as I can, refusing to give this woman any information worth hearing.

“So.” My stylist, Cinna, gives me a smile. He’s nicer than I thought any Capitol people were capable of, but I didn’t exactly like him, not yet. “Ready for your interview tomorrow?”

“No.”

“I have your outfit ready to go. You’ll prepare with Haymitch and Effie all day, till four, then you’re mine. I’ll make you gorgeous.”

“Okay.”

Effie makes an exasperated sound in her throat. “Can’t you just try to be excited?”

I stare at her, dumbfounded. I can’t believe this. “What, excited to die?” I fake an extremely over exaggerated smile. “I can’t wait!”

Peeta kind of laughs, then immediately tries to hide it with a cough and a glass of water.

I ignore him. I’ve become pretty good at that.

Haymitch smirks. Effie sighs. Cinna gives me a knowing little wink, and Peeta’s stylist, Portia, doesn’t look at me.

I sigh and shove my chair from the table. “Night,” I announce, and storm to my room. I collapse instantly into my bed, curl into a ball, and let the tears come. I fall asleep like that, crying for home, for safety, for comfort.

The next morning, I’m woken by Effie’s ridiculous ‘It’s going to be a big, big, big day!’ The entire day sucks from that point onwards.

Both Haymitch and Effie are at their wits ends with what to do with me during my interview.

Effie has me first, and for the first hour, she keeps her optimistic outlook on my potential. Two sarcastic words from me and fifty-seven minutes later, she looks ready to wring my neck then and there. She hands me over to Haymitch looking ready to cry. I have a tiny bit of satisfaction from that, I’ll admit.

Haymitch looks, I don’t know, preoccupied, the entire of our session. Everytime I say anything, he seems almost jumpy. Eventually I give up and sit there in silence until he lets me go. I have a shower per Cinna’s instructions and wait for him in my room.

I have to admit, Cinna is a genius. His handiwork is incredible. I stand in front of the mirror and smooth my skirts, a hint of my smile on my face.

Luxurious clothing, especially dresses, were never something I even thought of back in Twelve. But it felt pretty damn good to wear one.

The dress is gold, with little pockets of white and yellow and orange and red and silver and black, like fire. When I move, it’s almost like flames are flicking over me.

“This is amazing, Cinna,” I tell him. “Thank you for making me feel pretty tonight.”

Cinna gives me a hug, and a kiss on the forehead. “I’m not allowed to bet,” he says in reply, “but if I could, I’d bet on you.”

This time, I really do smile.

I officially want to die then and there the instant I’m up on that brightly lit stage. I have no idea what to say, or how to act, and I fumble my way through the entire interview. Even Caesar Flickerman, who never seems to run out of funny things to say; who always knows how to keep the conversation flowing effortlessly, is at his wits end with me. It seems to be my only talent; making people exasperated at me.

I leave the stage to the quietest round of applause the world has ever known.

I pass Peeta in the hall, and he gives me the smallest look of acknowledgement. I wish we could just stop pretending to be friends. Nothing has ever hurt me as much as Peeta Mellark has, and I don’t know how to forgive him for it. There’s a tiny part of me that’s almost glad we're going into the Hunger Games. No matter how it goes, I won’t ever have to deal with Peeta again after this.

I go to stand beside Haymitch and Effie, and prepare to watch Peeta’s interview. I wonder what he will talk about.

I kind of feel annoyed at him the longer the interaction goes on. He and Caesar bounce effortlessly off each other, talking and joking about… showers? Anyway, the crowd seems to love it.

Then, everything changes.

Caesar leans in to Peeta conspiratorially. “So, Peeta,” he says in a whisper, but directly into the microphone of course. “Is there a special girl back home?”

“Uh, yeah, Caesar, there is.” Peeta looks a little red at the confession.

I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes. We’re about to be slaughtered, and they’re discussing crushes? How ridiculous is that?

“Oh do tell.” Caesar sounds more like a teenage girl than a grown man. “We’d love to hear about her.”

Peeta clears his throat, and looks uncomfortably at the cameras. From my position inside, it’s like he’s staring right at me.

I quickly look away.

“Well,” Peeta begins, “she’s amazing. She’s one of the best people I’ve ever known, and I stuffed it up with her once. I’ve never forgiven myself for that.”

I glance at the screen uncertainly.

Peeta stares right back out at me. “I’m sorry for what I did. I want to do everything in my power to fix it. I promise. I love you.”

Caesar makes a squealing noise. “How adorable!” he exclaims. “You’ll have to get back to District 12 and she’ll have to forgive you.”

Peeta laughs uncomfortably. “That wouldn’t work, in my case.”

“And why not?”

“Because…” Peeta shifts in his seat. “Because she came here with me.”

I remember very little of the aftermath of Peeta’s comment. I know a flash of fury, disbelief, and shock ran through me at once. I know I dashed off to my room. I know I got out of my insane getup and collapsed into bed. I know I wanted to hit Peeta Mellark for that comment.

But after that, I know nothing.

I wake the next morning feeling sick to my stomach. I have a headache, my body feels stiff, and I’m still irrationally angry at Peeta. Well, it’s not irrational. It’s perfectly fine to hate him for what he did. And ‘apologising’ on live tv? It was like a sick joke.

I slowly get dressed in comfy pants and a loose, light blue blouse. I tie my hair up in a ponytail, and head for breakfast.

Everyone else is already there, But I ignore them all, pile my plate with as much food as I can, and sit myself down on the floor as far as possible from Peeta.

Effie huffs. “Good morning to you too, young lady.”

I answer by shoving a bread roll into my mouth whole.

“Ugh!” Effie is more than annoyed with me, but when I catch Haymitch’s eye by accident, he has a small smirk playing at his mouth, so I figure it’s not all bad.

“Hey, y/n,” Peeta tries.

I don’t reply, don’t even acknowledge him. I’m still so angry, so hurt from all those months ago. His words from back then mix with the ones from last night in my head, giving me a headache to match my heartbreak.

“You’re not… I’m sorry… I stuffed up… she’s amazing… I don’t want to… she came here with me… you mean nothing to me… not like that, y/n… I love you…”

I squeeze my eyes shut tight, trying to block it all out. All the memories.

It was a dark, depressing day. The weather sucked, but I guess that just meant it matched the rest of District Twelve.

I was heading home after school, and trying to work up my courage to do something I’d wanted to do for years.

I was going to tell Peeta Mellark that I loved him.

Everyone knew where he lived. The bakery was a pretty, inviting little place. The window was always filled with cakes, all decorated by Peeta himself.

I skipped up the front steps, knocking twice quickly on the dark blue painted door.

A woman answered, Peeta’s mother. “Hello.”

“Hi!” I pretended not to notice her quick glance at my less-than-clean dress, or my coal-covered boots and hair. I knew I wasn't as rich as their family. I wasn’t ashamed, but her look made me sad.

“I’m here to see Peeta,” I told her.

“Ah.” She narrowed her eyes at me, then disappeared. I hear hushed voices, but don’t try to listen in on the conversation.

I just stood there and waited. Soon, Peeta appeared in the doorway. “Hey, y/n,” he says uncertainly.

“Hey.” I decided to just say it—get it over with as quickly as possible. “I like you, Peeta. Like, like, like you.”

Peeta blinked at me, stunned. “You… oh.”

I chewed my lip, suddenly feeling like this was a horrible, horrible mistake. I shouldn’t have come. I should’ve just pretended I wasn’t in love with him.

Peeta’s eyes looked conflicted, hurt, despairing. But his words, and his tone, are as hard and cold as ice. “I don’t like you. Not like that, y/n. You… you’re not… anything to me. Just a friend, an acquaintance even. You’re worth nothing to me behind that.”

I physically felt the pain of my heart breaking. I wanted to cry, run, hit something.

“Oh.” I managed. “That’s… that’s cool.” I turned on my heel and ran all the way home.

It’s been over a year since Peeta Mellark broke my heart, and I’ve never gotten over it. Even now, eating my breakfast, knowing we are both probably likely to die in the arena, I still can’t find it in myself to forgive him.

I don’t believe his little stunt last night. It was for the cameras, to make a statement and gain sponsors. He doesn’t love me. He made that pretty damn clear a year ago.

I slam my plate on the ground so hard it cracks in two. A mute, red-haired girl rushes over to help me clean it. I apologise to her, but I can’t stay in this room for a moment longer. I feel trapped, like I can’t breathe.

I find my way to an out of the way part of our complex, sitting against the wall in a little window alcove. I’m overlooking the Capitol central, the citizens milling about in their celebratory days before the Hunger Games.

I feel sick at the sight.

How can they be so enraptured by the horror that is the games? How can they find actual joy and pleasure watching kids die?

“Hey.”

I start, and turn, and see Peeta a few steps away from me.

“Hi,” I say back, a little stiffly.

He gestures at the ground beside me, and I nod. He gently sits down, looking slightly nervous.

“What’s up?” I say dully.

“Uh—nothing much, thanks.”

“What are you doing here?” I have no patience for small talk, especially not now.

Peeta licks his lips and doesn’t meet my eyes. “I actually came to apologise.”

I raise an eyebrow, surprised. “As opposed to your apology earlier?”

Peeta grimaces. “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. Haymitch made me promise not to—and, I guess I just didn’t stop to think how you’d feel.”

I look away, trying to ignore the sudden lump in my throat. “Yeah, well.”

“I’m also here to tell you the plan,” Peeta adds.

My gaze snaps back to him. “The plan?” I ask incredulously.

He nods. “This… star crossed lovers angle is really good for getting sponsors. It’ll help us gain friends in the Capitol—people who will want to help us.”

“Because it’s my goal in life to be besties with the Capitol,” I say flatly, and Peeta almost cracks a smile.

“If it’ll help to keep you alive, it is your goal.”

I shrug. “Whatever. What’s this plan?”

“Act like we’re in love.”

I stare at him for a second, then realise he’s dead serious. I deflate a little, but I know deep down he has a point. We need sponsors if we want to have any chance at all of winning the Games.

“Okay,” I say finally. “Sure. Let’s do it.”

Training goes for three days, and it mostly sucks. I have zero talents, apparently, except for differentiating deadly plants from safe ones. Oh, I can also tie some knots. Not super helpful. I can’t throw a knife, shoot a bow, lift anything heavier than a couple kilos, or climb ropes very well.

As the third day comes to an end, I feel incredibly useless, and exceptionally hopeless. I’m going to be dead in a day, I can almost feel it.

Peeta actually had a pretty good chance. He’s very strong, and can lift even the heaviest of weights. He’s also a whiz at camouflage and starting fires. All bakery skills, I’ll wager.

As per Haymitch’s instructions, we stick together throughout the training, steering clear of the other tributes. We also touch whenever possible, holding hands, hugging, me letting Peeta touch my hair.

It’s all rather infuriating to me, but if it might help to keep Peeta alive for longer, then whatever. He needs to win. He needs to stay alive and get home to his family.

It’s finally the night before the Games, and to say I was completely terrified would be the absolute truth. I lie awake, goosebumps everywhere. I’m so scared I couldn’t eat anything at dinner, even though I know I should be trying to get up my strength. Who knows how long it might be before I can eat again.

I might be starving in that arena, or dehydrated, or freezing to death. Who knows? Maybe I’ll die right away, in the initial bloodbath.

I sit up in bed, sick of tossing and turning. I climb out, and head out my bedroom door. Surprisingly, it’s not locked. I guess they do have cameras literally everywhere, so they’d know if I was actually trying to escape. Which I’m not. That would be pointless. I’m going to die anyway.

Across the hall is Peeta’s room, and without thinking, I knock on his door. He opens it a second later, and his brow crunches together at the sight of me.

“Y/n?” he asks. “What are you—?”

“Can I come in?” I’m suddenly awkward, realising how weird this is.

Peeta nods quickly. “Yeah, yeah. Come in, please.” He steps aside and lets me pass. His room is indentical to mine.

I walk over to his bed and sit myself down on the silkily sheets. “Can I stay in here tonight?” I ask, not looking at Peeta.

I hear his bed creak beneath me as he sits too. “Yeah, ‘course you can.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then he adds, in a much softer voice, “Anytime.”

I wake up to the sun shining into the room, and for a moment, I forget entirely where I am, and what’s about to happen. I just sink into the pillows and close my eyes.

Then, I remember. The Games are today.

“Hey, you,” a voice says behind me, and I roll over in surprise. Peeta.

“Morning,” I say back, for some reason grateful he’s here. Having a familiar face to wake up to is much nicer than rising alone, facing the Games all by myself.

“Todays the day, huh?” Peeta asks, sitting up and frowning a little.

“Guess so,” I reply, rolling back over to stare at the ceiling. “I don’t want to get up.”

Peeta laughs, and it’s a pretty sound. Too pretty for such an awful day.

There’s a knock on our door, and Effie’s voice filters through: “Het up you two, it’s going to be a big, big, big day!”

“How does she know I'm here?” I ask, sitting up straight.

Peeta shrugs. “The Capitol has a crap ton of cameras, y/n.”

I roll my eyes in annoyance. Do they really need to know every single thing about us, before we die? It’s all so ridiculous I almost have to laugh.

“I’d better go get ready and stuff,” I tell him, sliding out of his bed. “Thanks for letting me stay here last night.”

Peeta looks at me for a second, like he’s going to say something big, but just replies with, “See you in the arena.”

“Good luck.” And I’m gone.

“Ten seconds til launch.”

I take a deep breath, feel Cinna’s reassuring squeeze on my shoulder, and I step into the glass tube that will be taking me up into the arena.

“Bye, Cinna,” I half whisper. “Thank you for everything.”

He gives me a smile, that somehow is genuinely caring. “Good luck, my dear girl.”

Something inside the tube clicks, and it slides shut, locking me into my fate. It begins to slowly rise, and so does my anxiety. I come completely out of the tube, and bright, blazing sunlight temporarily blinds me. When I can see again, my throat squeezes in terror and anticipation. All of us are the same distance apart, standing on little pods that I know we can’t step off of without being blown to the sky.

In the middle of the tribute circle is a metal cornucopia, with various weapons and supplies arranged around it, trying to tempt us. I remember Haymitch’s advice to leave it all alone and just run to the woods.

That’s when I remember Peeta. I glance left, seeing a girl from District Seven, I think, who’s also looking in my direction. Beyond her is a tall, dark boy I’ve never really paid attention to other than to get out of his way. I think his name is Thresh.

I squint, frantically trying to locate Peeta. I finally spot him, the farthest tribute I can see to my right. He’s already got his eyes on me, and is shaking his head. Why? What’s he trying to tell me?

Suddenly, the bell is sounding, and there’s a flash of movement as the tributes all simultaneously leave their pedestals, most heading right for the cornucopia. I freeze, my body not reacting at all. I force myself to move, running in just close enough to snatch up a small blue backpack, and then I sprint in Peeta’s direction. I just manage to catch a glimpse of him disappearing into the woods, so I head that way.

About an hour later, I still haven’t caught up to Peeta, or seen any other tributes. Sounds of the bloodbath behind me have faded away now, and nothing but the occasional animal or bird or wind sounds now echo through the forest.

It would almost be peaceful, if I wasn’t where I was.

Then, out of absolutely nowhere, someone grabs my arm from behind. I let out a scream, and a hand slaps over my mouth. I struggle, but I’m not strong at the best of times.

“Calm down!” It’s Peeta’s voice. “It’s just me, y/n, jeez.”

I twist him off me and whirl to face him. My glare is almost enough to murder him right then and there. “Don’t scare me like that!” I hiss. “You idiot!” I hit him, half out of the fear bubbling inside of me and half out of relief he’s here and alive and with me.

“Sorry, my love,” Peeta replies, cracking a flirtatious smile. “I won’t do it again.”

I narrow my eyes at him, half annoyed and half embarrassed at how much relief is flooding inside of me at this sight of him, alive and well and here.

“Allies?” Peeta asks.

A laugh bubbles up, and surprises both of us. Peeta laughs too, but then shushes me. “Let’s not get killed just yet, okay?” he suggests. “I’d like to hang out with the love of my life first.”

And for some reason, I don’t even disagree.

#peeta mellark #peeta mellark fanfic #peeta mellark x reader #the hunger games #hunger games #thg #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark x reader fanfiction #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games fanfic #suzanne collins #coriolanus snow #lucy gray baird

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clownd1ck · 9 months

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sex is an art (so let me paint you) | f. castle

frank castle x fem!reader

the part two of ‘shut me up’ that no asked for but pls i needed to write this so bad i was going to shit myself if i didn’t write this

summary: two weeks ago, frank castle kissed you. two weeks ago, frank castle made you feel special. two weeks ago was the last time you saw frank castle, now you’re being dragged out of a club by him in a jealous rage.

warnings: SMUTT (18+ pls), oral (fem!receiving), fingering (fem!receiving), FRANK LOVES THIGHS, thigh spanking (yeah i did that), overstimulation, p in the v, choking, reader sucks frank’s fingers HAHA, frank being cocky, praise kink, begging, hickeys, bruises, biting, did someone say pet names?, nipple play, tummy bulging, daddy used like twice (i had to 😔), spitting, hair pulling, age gap (reader is 23, frank is 37), frank castle the aftercare king, did i miss anything other than my dignity?

clubbing was never your thing. flashing lights, loud music, too many people in a room would have your head spinning in overstimulation. most 23 year olds would be living out their best days in the club, gathering stories to tell to their friends the next day. that was never you, the only story that originated from clubbing was the night you met frank castle, and it was one you didn’t share to anyone. mainly because you couldn’t, but also because he was your dirty secret.

however, you find yourself in between these sweaty bodies, speakers blaring a familiar tune and an empty glass of what once held a vodka redbull in your hand. you were soon to abandon the empty glass at the bar, it was the only drink you had consumed the entire night because you never felt safe drinking outside of your own home. you weren’t drunk, but you were drunk on your own feelings of sorrow and disappointment.

sharing a kiss with frank castle was something you’ve wanted since you met him. he was stoic and brooding, someone most people stayed away from but you found yourself entranced by him. he was soft with you, in his own little way. he let you ramble over silly things, watched your favourite movies with you and if he ever took a pitstop to a diner before coming to see you he always got you pancakes. frank listened to you, he thought of you, and it made you feel so appreciated.

so why he hadn’t returned to you for two weeks after a kiss he initiated had you feeling emotions you didn’t want to feel towards him.

you guessed that’s why you agreed to go out with some old friends to a local club. you wanted to forget everything, be like one of the girls you knew and have a one night stand that you could share and giggle about with your friends at brunch the next day.

wallowing in self pity was becoming boring. especially when there was a guy who had been making eye contact with you from across the room for the past twenty minutes, but you couldn’t blame him. the dress you wore was black, it was sheer and jesus christ, it was short. the heels you wore were platforms, adding a good four inches to your height. so much skin was showing, your legs, the skin under the sheer lace of the dress and if you were to bend over or lean forward, the curve of your ass would show to everyone in the room. but you were hot, you felt hot, and the man across the room agreed.

you find yourself walking over to the man. he’s decently good looking, but he’s not frank. you grab the man’s hand, walking backwards onto the dance floor as he smirks at you and you give him the most innocent eyes and soft smile you can muster.

the song has changed, it’s slow and sensual and the perfect song to grind your hips against the crotch of this unknown man. and so you do. you allow him to grab your hips to draw you in closer, to feel the hard on he’s got from your movements.

the feeling doesn’t last long.

there’s two new hands on your hips that are dragging you away from the unknown man, dragging you out the door of the club and into the dead of the night. you’re frustrated, sexually and just in general. you have a good feeling as to who dragged you away, and the thought of him doing this to you made you want to explode.

“why the fuck, frank?” you scream, turning around to face him, putting distance in between your bodies.

he ignores you, and it’s the first time he’s ever done that before and it aggravates you to no end. so you follow him, and he stops at a car you didn’t know he had but realised it probably wasn’t his in the first place.

“answer me, frank!”

“get in the car.” he opens to passenger seat, and you stare at him in disbelief.

“no.”

“get in the car.” he repeats.

“fuck off.”

“get in the fucking car.” he speaks in a tone you’ve never heard before. it’s not intimidating by any means, but it’s one that tells you you should listen and so you do.

you’re in the car, and frank gets in the driver’s seat and you know he’s going to drive you home and you’ll finish your screaming match there. it’s silent the entire ride, but for once, you don’t find yourself uncomfortable in it. in fact, you’re cherishing the silence now because you fear of the words that may be said the second you’re home.

and before you know it, you are.

“what the fuck was that, frank?” you exclaim as you step into your apartment, closing and locking the front door behind you once you’re both inside. “you can’t just drag me away like that.”

“he had his hands all over you.” he says gruffly, arms crossing over his chest. “what was i supposed to do?”

“what you were supposed to do was let him do it!”

he laughs at that, and the fact that he thinks it’s hilarious only fuels your anger. who was he to act like this? like you were his girlfriend, like you belonged to him? it feels like he’s laughing at you instead of the situation you’re both in. and it only fucks you up more.

“this is funny to you?”

“yeah, fucking hilarious.” he stalks over to you, hands cupping your face which forces your eyes to meet his. you hate eye contact, you despise it, but you could easily get lost in frank’s eyes. “fucking hilarious you think i’m gonna allow another man to put his hands on you.”

a laugh erupts from your mouth. “cause you have a say in what i do when you left me for two fucking weeks, frank!”

he never realised how much he hated his name until it fell from your lips. he’s never been frank to you, he’s always been frankie. he’s frankie, he’s your frankie, and that one time where you jokingly called him your daddy, and he hasn’t been able to get that off his mind since. you drive him insane, but you gravitate him, make frank realise he’s got someone to look forward to, to come home to.

“had to think. had to think how i was gonna be around you and try to act all fucking normal when all you’ve ever done is live in my fucking head.” he grumbles, moving his face closer to his. you’re staring into each other’s souls, you’re seeing parts of each other you’ve never explored before.

“two weeks, frankie.” you mumble weakly, because you were weak around frank.

“had to figure things out, figure out how i was gonna tell you how i feel then you weren’t at home. find you at the damn club with some guy touching you and jesus christ, i don’t wanna see that again.”

“frank?”

he hums, eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips.

“fuck me.”

his lips are locked with yours the second the words leave your mouth. his tongue is entering your mouth and the grasp his hands have on your face becomes more possessive, like he’s showing you just how much you mean to him. you’re walking backwards, back, back, back, until you’re opening a door that was never locked and your legs crash against your bed, causing you to fall onto it.

frank’s stood over you, looking at how fucking good you sit so prettily waiting for him. eyes meeting his, wide and doe like as a means to bewitch him in the spell that is seduction, something you radiate, something he gravitated towards.

his hand finds your jaw, tilting it up slightly. it moves to stroke your cheek, but not without brushing over your lip and something seems to snap in him when he does it, because next thing you know, he’s dragging his thumb over your lip. “so fuckin’ pretty, sweetheart.” he hums, watching as your lips lock round the tip of his thumb. “yeah, so fuckin’ pretty.”

frank bends down to your height, hand abandoning your face so he can run them both over the exposed skin of your thighs. his right hand comes down harshly, slapping one of them and by the grace of god himself, the way you moaned was filthy. he smirked at your reaction, repeating it again and again and you were too caught up in the feel to notice how his hands, his large, veiny hands had spread your legs apart.

you’re not entirely exposed to him. the black lace thong you wore covering your cunt but it isn’t enough to hide how completely desperate you were for him. he chuckles at that, muttering something about how dirty you were from getting turned on by him spanking your damn thighs.

his hands find the hem of your dress, pushing it up and pulling it over your body, so now everything was revealed except the one place you needed frank the most. his eyes are immediately latched onto your nipples. you had changed the bars since the last time you saw him, angel wings sat on either side of the bar and you didn’t feel like a fucking angel when you were letting the devil himself touch you like this.

frank’s mouth immediately latches onto your left nipple, sucking and swirling his tongue and you let out the most pornographic moan he thinks he’s ever heard. it was the bite that caused you to squeal, eyes rolling back into your head and the only thing frank did was chuckle at how your body reacts to him. he repeats the action on your other nipple, biting, sucking, tongue swirling and you know there are going to be hickies there tomorrow but the idea of having frank’s mark on you has you spiralling.

“frankie…” you mutter “please.”

he looks up at you, a small smirk on his face as his hand reaches behind you, hand finishing its way into the base of your hair, pulling you forwards. “no, sweetheart. remember that one word you called me? fuckin’ teased me with it, didn’t know how much i wanted to fuck you right then and there when you said it. you remember what it was, baby?”

“daddy.” you whisper.

“that’s right.” the sound of his voice, gruff and hoarse makes you swallow. “i’m your daddy.”

he’s running his hands down your body again, until they find your thong and he snaps the material against your skin, causing you to yell. he’s pulling them down your legs in an instant, and the grip he has on your thigh will no doubt leave bruises as he delves into your cunt, lips attaching to your clit.

your body falls backwards as he sucks at the nub, before turning his attention elsewhere as he begins to feast at your cunt like he’s on death row and you’re his last meal. “fuck…daddy-” you cut yourself off as you begin to move, and his arm stretched over your hips to hold you down and your thighs entrap his head between them. but that’s heaven for frank castle, between your thighs.

you can feel the orgasm creeping up on you, and so can frank by the way you pathetically moan out his name like it’s your favourite melody. “please, please, frank. let me cum, please, need it so bad.” you beg.

frank adds to this growing orgasm, his fingers entering your hole and stuffing you full. they hit that spongy spot inside of you until you’re shaking, trying to move away from the intensity of your first orgasm but frank isn’t done with you, and you can tell by the way he holds you down and feasts on your cunt yet again.

he’s hungry, he’s a man starved and he laps up your cum like no tomorrow. his tongue is flicking up and down, lips latching onto your clit and you scream at the intensity. his fingers are still hitting inside of you, and before you know it, you’re cumming again. frank’s lips detach from your clit, watching as your eyes roll back and you moan.

“you gonna cum again, sweetheart? yeah?” he chuckles as he feels your drip onto his fingers, but he isn’t letting up. he hasn’t this entire time. it’s why your third orgasm washes over you and you’re breathless. the entire time you’ve been moaning your voice has gradually become more hoarse, but that appears to be frank’s goal.

frank stands up, placing his fingers in your mouth and watches as you suck him clean. your saliva drips from his digits and it’s so fucking filthy but you revel in the way you taste.

you frown at the loss of his fingers in your mouth, but you realise you have nothing to complain about because he’s taking his hoodie off, followed by his boots and his pants. the outline of his cock is prominent in his boxers and you feel yourself gulp.

“frankie, please.”

“please what, sweetheart?”

“please, need you to fuck me so bad.” frank smirks, climbing onto the bed and placing your legs around his torso. his cock is rubbing up against your cunt and you whimper at the feel. “frank, pl…please.”

“you need it, baby? need my cock filling up that pretty little cunt of yours? say ‘pretty please’, sweetheart. be a good girl, f’me.” he’s looking down at you, and you’re giving h the same wide eyed doe like look you did before this started, and he’s falling deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole that is you love.

“pretty please.” you bat your eyelashes, and feel frank line his cock up into your entrance before slowly pushing in. he’s big, he’s thick and it’s a lot, so it’s why when he leans down so he’s hovering over you you immediately attach your lips to his, moaning into his mouth as his hips move at a hard pace.

“f…frank. feels s…so good- fuck.” you cry out, lips moving away from his because you’re so damn lost in the way his cock hits your g spot that it has you levitating. his hand wrapped round your throat, guaranteed to bruise tomorrow but being claimed by frank has never felt so good.

“yeah, feels good? hitting that sweet, sweet spot inside of you?” his hand reaches from your neck to between your bodies, hand pressing down on your stomach where his cock moves inside of you. the touch has your legs tightening around his waist, back arching to the point where your clit grinds against him. “feel that, sweetheart? feel how good i’m fucking you?” frank kisses your jaw. “only me, sweetheart. gonna fuck you like this whenever you want.“ he pressed down harder. “my good girl- fuck, my good fucking girl..”

“frank, gonna…gonna cum.”

his hand moved from your stomach to your jaw, where he taps your cheek twice. “open up, sweetheart.” and you do. frank spits into your mouth, and like the good girl you are, you swallow, causing frank to press a soft peck on your lips. “look at you. doing whatever i fuckin’ want. so pretty, baby. should see yourself right now, taking my cock so well.” he takes not ur of how your nails are digging into his back. “you gonna cum, baby? look so fuckin’ pretty when you cum. cum all over my cock, sweetheart.”

and you do. your legs shake against his torso but frank’s endless pounding doesn’t stop. he’s grunting down your ear as you hold his face in your hands and kiss his lips. “frankie…cum inside of me.” you beg, and his eyes snap to meet yours as if to ask if you’re being serious. “please.”

it doesn’t take long until frank is finishing inside of you, filling you up to the brim and he has no shame in finger fucking it inside you when it tries to leak out.

when he’s done, he places a soft kiss on your forehead before getting up off the bed, reaching for his boxers and sliding them back on. “i’ll be right back, just gotta clean you up, ok?” he leaves the room, but he returns within two minutes with a towel, a t-shirt and two water bottles for you both.

frank’s careful as he cleans you up, knowing that you’re still sensitive. in his left hand is where the towel that cleans you with, but his right is rubbing soft circles into your thigh to reassure you. when he’s done, he helps you sit up, placing the t-shirt over your body and opening the water bottle for you, holding it up for you to drink from. you tap his wrist lightly to let him know you’re done.

“you ok, sweetheart? need anything else?” he asks, sliding into bed next to you with his arm out, to which you take that as your invitation to slide in next to him. you cuddle into his chest, his arm wrapped securely around you.

“i’m ok, frankie.” you whisper.

you hear him take a deep breath in. “i had to figure out my feelings for you. it was never just a way to shut you up, even if you don’t know when to stop talking sometimes.” he chuckles. “i love you, you know that?”

“i know.” you smile up at him. “but was dragging me out of the club really necessary?”

“don’t make me shut you up again.”

“isn’t much of a threat if i like when you kiss me.” you giggle as you press a soft kiss to his lips. “now, how about we order pizza and watch a movie?”

frank smiles down at you. “perfect.”

taglist:

@theeblackmedusa

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle x female reader #frank castle imagine #the punisher

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lizzypuppet1711 · 2 months

Text

things about toronto’s production of the great comet at crow’s theatre/musical stage co that i need everyone to know about because i am obsessed with this show.

as of writing i have seen this show five times.

very long under the cut:

full cast listed here. at time of writing, donna garner replaces louise pitre as marya, tyler pearse replaces lawrence libor as dolokhov, and ben carlson replaces marcus nance as andrey/bolkonsky. currently i’ve seen the og cast four times and the replacements once.

the stage is set up with seats on three out of four sides, with front rows at tables, back of house left and right sides at barstools, and a small balcony with some seats on house right. there are balconies on either side, with a revolving platform in the middle of the stage (revolving by being pushed by cast members or stagehands). seats around 200 people or so.

the actors are EVERYWHERE. it is so incredibly immersive

the music is very punchy

during prologue, everyone is taking shots as they’re introduced, except dolokhov, who drinks straight from the bottle and sprays it into the air

i’m a dolokhov girlie through and through and once he nodded hello at me during the prologue and i legit swooned

mary is walking around holding a program showing off the family tree, actors will point to them on tables etc

once anatole pointed at his face on it, pointed to himself, all in a very flirty manner

he winked at me during prologue once and i’m still thinking about it

evan buliung is acting his ass off as pierre

he is definitely is more gruff and acting focused (think dave malloy over josh groban)

at “hours at my screen”, pierre takes an audience member’s phone (from one of the tables… or once out of someone’s hands LMAO) and mimes tapping, scrolling through it etc

two stagehands move things on and offstage (such as the sofa, church props etc) and they are also in little costumes. it’s very adorable

dolokhov’s little soldier walk thing??? during moscow????? i’m sure there’s a reason for it bc both of them do it but i have no clue why it’s there???? love it tho

heeyun park as mary is also acting her damn heart out

private and intimate life has a faster tempo and is SUCH a banger as a result

an audience member gets briefly pulled up on the platform to be the cheap french thing, he typically kisses up their arm, hugs them, and sometimes sits on their lap a bit

pierre is playing the tambourine in the background during natasha and bolkonskys and it is honestly kind of funny

hailey gillis plays natasha very emotional and headstrong. her no one else has a sense of urgency, desperation, and deep longing

the platform is spinning and people are walking around and she is singing like an angel…

basically i want to be hailey gillis when i grow up

actors are rotating the platform during no one else and it ends with andrey standing behind her and pierre standing in front of her. no one talk to me i’m losing it

as the run has continued, dolokhov’s adlibs during his intro in the opera have increased drastically

lawrence libor as dolokhov had such an air and presence (rizz?) about himself i cannot DESCRIBE. the comphet he gave me… i miss him v much. he was also very much giving toronto mans. and he made SO MUCH eye contact. he loves to look at you. i miss him. i need him. who said that

tumblr theatre girlies you would go insane over lawrence libor. if this show had ANY b roll footage i know i would be seeing edits all over the place

i am president of the lawrence libor fan club and everyone should join me

tyler pearse as dolokhov has heavy frat boy energy. he is also gayer, and somehow, sluttier. gives short king energy despite only being an inch shorter than lawrence (apparently)??? don’t ask bc i don’t know either he just does. anyway thank u tyler pearse for making dolokhov bisexual for real

either way dolokhov is doing SO MUCH in this production. he is wild he is a whirling dervish he is arrogant he is a bastard he is everything to me

“YEAH BABEY LETS GOOOOOOO” -lawrence libor as dolokhov, upon his entrance

in one performance he would go YEAH BABEY three separate times in act 1. yeahh

flirting with a girl in the balcony, dabbing up a guy in the balcony, generally being hilarious

and tyler pearse leaning over the balcony, rose in his mouth, wolf howling… i can’t.

basically i can’t with this production’s dolokhov. i’m obsessed

anatole’s entrance… he’s a whore. all i can say

rita dottor (ensemble) does the high soprano bravooooooo and she always sounds so fantastic. live laugh love rita dottor

george krissa, who plays anatole, is probably the most attractive man in ontario. like if you googled hot guy he would be the first result.

“where did they find this anatole. was he made in a lab or something. he was perfect” — my friend after seeing it

tumblr theatre girlies you would also be obsessed with george krissa. like jeremy jordan andrew rannells level obsessed. please love these toronto actors with me

i’d let him ruin my life ANY DAY. it is a fact that lesbians love george krissa. i hope he knows

the way he plays it… my friend described it like “lucas steele is like an alien david bowie, and george krissa is a bridgerton man. just a very charismatic, but normal, guy”

while i would say that lucas steele’s anatole believes he is truly in love with natasha, i would not say the same for george krissa’s. some of the manipulation happening here during the opera is. quite clear

when he is entering the box natasha struggles to open her fan, fans herself frantically, under the arms etc. then when he enters immediately shifts to fanning in a cool and collected manner. hailey gillis master of comedy

“we are speaking of most ordinary things” is especially like. this is a male manipulator if i’ve ever seen one

natasha lost was added back in!! fantastic obviously

anatole checking his hair in the mirror before waking pierre up. fucker

“look dolokhov’s coming around… and we’re off to the CLEURB”

brendan wall (ensemble) walking around during the club scene with a glowstick necklace on is peak comedy to me

i’ve said it but tyler’s dolokhov is an absolute slut at this scene. and for what AND FOR WHAT!!!!

also fun tidbit but all the glasses (other than shots) and any clear bottles have real liquid in them. i am very concerned something will spill one day

when dolokhov gets right up in the audience’s face during “known only to his intimates” i LOVE it idk

during the duel, marya and rita steal off to house left directly beside the barstools and chatter about how bad of an idea this is, they’re so drunk, etc

special shout out to divine’s “he will kill you STOOPID HUSBAND” so good

dolokhov’s adlibs during the duel… i need him. sorry

dolokhov gets shot in the side rather than his shoulder, and unceremoniously rolls off the platform as it’s moving. looks painful

hélène screams when dolokhov is shot but not pierre. so much to think about here

a life changing dust and ashes from evan. i can’t describe anything more just that he’s incredible. i’ve learned so much about acting just by watching him a few times

natasha’s face at “am i guilty…” breaks my heart she is so tormented

we are canadians we are going to pronounce our french correctly! no more charmantay

hélène has started adding some very fun runs into charming as the run has gone on. divine brown marry me

anatole is shirtless during charming. btw.

again i know he’s gay and i’m gay but.

the entirety of this rendition of the ball has been stuck in my head since december

his “don’t lower your eyes i love you” that whole section is delicious i want to eat his voice

plus “BEWITCHING AND I LOVE YOUUU” UGHHH such an ear worm but only when it’s their voices

the choreo going on here is very nice btw

i love the way he says natalie at this part idk. it’s not overly enunciated and the vowel is just right <— vocal nerd

the kiss feels like it lasts forever

music gets very very loud at the end and you can feel it in your skin

also fun fact the house music before and after the show is orchestral but during intermission it’s electronic. bc. anatole. gah details

when marcus was still in the cast you could really hear his voice during letters and it sounded sooooo.

dolokhov’s stupid little thumbs up to indicate he will be ok. pleaseee. i laughed i did

generally lawrence would grab at the place he was shot at a lot; while pushing the revolve etc. loved that detail. (tyler does too but less so)

sonya and natasha just sounds so great. like they just always sound fantastic i love that song

sonya alone. yes i am weeping. yes camille eanga-selenge is everything i want to be and more. she’s phenomenal

dolokhov sitting in a big fuckin chair at the beginning of preparations just absolutely clearly regretting every decision he’s made to facilitate this. is great.

i know i keep talking abt lawrence libor but the image of him at this part is just. really great. to me. sorry

very campy and exaggerated scowling and grimacing from anatole

dolokhov is so sick of anatole’s shit

“here feel how it beats” is NOT entertained he pushes him back immediately

lawrence dolokhov’s “dawdling” business was him tuning his guitar i miss musician dolokhov sooooo much gah

balaga truly does not sing any of his lines. he is basically yelling the entire time. i don’t know how he does it. it’s chaotic and hilarious and so fun

sonya and mary hand out the egg shakers on house right and left respectfully

near the end of balaga, four audience members are brought up to dance with the cast! (i got to dance with mary once!)

dolokhov writhing on the floor during anatole’s long held note thank u

during the goodbye section, anatole comes around to said audience members and interacts with them; dancing with them, booping them on the nose etc, and at “kiss me one last time”, invites a lucky audience member to kiss his cheek. (this once, was me. yup. still processing it.)

once he accidentally knocked someone’s egg shaker from their hand, dolokhov picked it up, laughed, gave it a shake, and handed it back, and yes i’m still thinking about it

when they sit down, balaga and dolokhov will sit on the house right stairs, though once there was an empty seat nearby so dolokhov wedged his way in between two people, guitar and all. so fucking good

anatole will squeeze himself between two audience members on house left, put an arm around each, and look around at everyone sitting in that area, out into the audience, etc. if one is going to make eye contact with him, it is now

once he threw his head back to look at the people behind him, and someone, at the speed of light, took their phone out and snapped a picture of his upside down head. i scream laughed

lawrence’s BETRAYED BETRAYEDDDD was sooooo good. so so so good

hailey gillis is an absolute powerhouse during in my house

usually when “natasha’s whole body shook” she falls to the ground silently but last time i went she YELLED and i gasped so loud

at “i have refused him” louise would go NO in shock and i FREAK OUT ABOUT IT.

and i loved her “what then? would that be alright???”

“NATASHA CRIED OUT! GO AWAY! GO AWAY YOU ALL HATE AND DESPISE ME” sounds SO FUCKING GOOD!!! I LOVE YOU HAILEY GILLIS

when the call to pierre music starts i always get goosebumps

the fight choreo when pierre grabs anatole by the collar is very good

if we’re comparing to broadway, it feels less like anatole’s life is in danger here but like i’m not upset about it

at this point anatole does not seem sad or upset to me more just. pissed off that it didn’t go his way. like annoyed

as anatole leaves during pierre and anatole the staging has him stepping around/over natasha as she is choking from the arsenic and it is such a. show of his shallowness

his petersburg note is fantastic obviously. live laugh love george krissa

marcus nance (andrey) has such a deep and beautiful legit singing voice. it’s sooo gorgeous. any word that raises against marcus nance will fall.

I MISS HIMMMM ok sorry.

i am more sympathetic to ben carlson’s andrey, however. marcus was Incredibly stoic ben has a bit more emotion to him i think

i could swear sometimes hailey is actually crying during pierre and natasha

her “pytor kirillovich” sounds so tiny and fragile ugh my heart breaks

and his “…pierre” is so assuring AUGHH

it’s such a beautiful scene obviously. i love the two of them so damn much i hope only good things happen to them forever

“it was clear and cold” also. chills EVERY TIME

“having traced its parabola” and “like an arrow piercing the earth” hit me so hard i cannot explain

genuinely evan buliung gives the most effective inspiring fantastic mind blowing performance i maybe have ever seen on stage. he is such an incredible actor and he inspires me beyond belief

the end when the lights get really really bright and then fade out. god. so simple and so fucking beautiful

now this post is very long. thank u for reading it all if you did! (will update after seeing it more times if there’s things to say!!)

if you’re anywhere near toronto i BEG of you to go see it!! it’s closing march 24th :(( so if you get the chance i deeply implore you. beg borrow or steal a ticket just get there! best comet production ever in my biased opinion :)

#rbs encouraged!!!#natasha pierre and the great comet of 1812 #the great comet #npatgco1812 #tgc #great comet #great comet toronto #musical theatre #toronto theatre #lizzy.txt #aka i rant about lawrence libor more than i need to #i can’t get over this show and neither should you #watch it. and talk to me about it PLEASEEEEEEE PLEASE #if u have anything u didn’t like abt this. keep that shit to urself #sorry that you’re wrong idk what that’s like tho #live laugh love crows theatre

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cupioromantic-simp · 5 months

Text

Head cannon: the ninjas in heals

Jay

- my man is stumbling in anything over over two inches

- He can walk in kitten heals and that is it

- Mostly because his mom had only two pairs and nothing over 1 1/2 inches

- Because he definitely played with his moms heals

- Guy grew up poor he didn’t have many friends he was clumsy and clueless and rocking his moms kitten pumps

- He has fantastic balance but as soon as he has to move he’s wobbly as all hell

- 4/10

Zane

- no.

- My guy is cool collected and sexy as hell

- But

- He it NOT calibrated for anything except flats

- Like I mean hes perfectly balanced to be able the stand still and stuff

- So if you throw that off even with like those forwards leaning running shoes

- Flat on his face in less than a second

- PLATFORMS HOWEVER

- My boy can serve in platform’s

- But he’s already quite tall (6’0 exactly) so he sees no real reason to where anything but flats

- He likes to feel grounded

- 1/10

Nya

- *sigh*….

- Your going to hate me but

- No.

- Like she *can* she just doesn’t want to

- She can SLAY the runway mama

- But it makes her feel weird

- She can walk in anything under four inches

- But she never had the chance to really learn from anyone

- But there aren’t really any places for her to sensibly be in heals

- So she sticks to flats

- But she still can and WILL kick your ass in her convers dress combo

- So be warned

- 6/10

Kai

- yes but absolutely not

- Bro can STRUT

- He just… won’t

- Probably also played with his moms heals as a kid ngl

- He just gives of the vibe

- He will if absolutely necessary but that is it

- Or if a pretty person asks vary nicely

- But he’s more the

- ‘Cool I can do it, awesome!… now what?’

- Nothing over 3 1/2 inches though

- 7/10

Cole

- Yeah.

- Girl what where you expecting

- Girly was raised in a theatre house

- Literally!

- You think 8yo cole WASN’T braking his ankles trying to memorize the Chicago choreography

- Because if you do you’re vary vary wrong

- My guy can kick your ass in a solid five inches

- He has the mind of a dancer and the body of a boxer

- Tbh he’s probably point shoe certified

- He just doesn’t want to anymore because of dancer trauma™️

- 8/10

Lloyd

- bitch you thought

- No way can this child walk in heals

- Maybe like half an inch

- but nothing more or he is crying with a scraped knee on the floor

- Like the goof was raised in a all boys boarding school

- And had no parental figures until the ninjas

- And even after the ninjas took him in he didn’t like them bc they were kind assholes to him

- He never really had the chance to play with his moms heals

- Nya kept her door super duper locked

- And he never really wanted to learn ether

- Plus heals are for losers and girls

- 1/10

Pixel

- talking about losers and girls

- (tho she isn’t really ether)

- YES!!!!!!

- My girl may be the tallest of all of them

- BUT

- She is also one of the wold’s most advanced technical advancements

- She also had to attend many galas as dr.borgs assistant/child

- The highest she can go is seven inches

- But she’s also like six foot four

- So she doesn’t really find the need to wear heals that tall

- She usually wears an inch or less

- It’s more professional that way

- More practical as well

- 10/10

#ninjago #lego ninjago #kai ninjago #ninjago nya #ninjago jay #ninjago cole #ninjago lloyd #pixel ninjago #lloyd garmadon #jay walker #kai smith #nya smith #cole brookstone #ninjago fandom #ninjago fanfiction #ninjago headcanons #ninjago hc #ninjago lego

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boizandgurlzinthehouse · 6 months

Text

𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 ; 𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐤𝐢 𝐬𝐢𝐱𝐱 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏. 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐. 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑. 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟒.

word count: 2.371k (i'm sorry 😭😭😭) trigger warning: swearing, kissing

the fact of preparing their first actual concert caused her goosebumps every time she thought about it. getting platformed high heels, faux fur coats and faux leather jackets, body painting and hairspray, it was fucking exciting for her. she and the boys made pictures, then cutting themselves out, y/n was the one who went to the press, where she could get thousands of posters. mick was the one who got the place, and they played the songs on every day of the week. sticking out posters with jessica's and the other girls' help, y/n ran around whole los angeles.

and now, here they were, minutes from stepping out to perform for the first time. drawing with her eyeliner, y/n looked at the others: tommy spinned his drumstick between his fingers, nikki was puffing his hair up on her side, mick played his guitar and vince stretched out the pants his girlfriend bought him.

"man, my girlfriend spent like, 8000 bucks on these leather pants. you like 'em?" he asked tommy.

"they're cool, bro."

"you say everything's cool, drummer." mick muttered, getting a nod from y/n. she turned away from the mirror, standing up in her platform high heels that give at least 6 inches to her height. all the boys begin to snicker, nikki whistled as she adjusted her black bodycon dress. y/n had red and black makeup, dusting her cheeks in highlighter.

"what the fuck are those, y/n?" vince asked, getting her attention. she turned in her shoes, striking a pose.

"these are my favorite shoes. i stole it from a shop, so i hope the owner or the cashier is not gonna be here tonight." she answered, testing that the heels weren't unstable.

"you look so mad girl, like a rocker barbie! could you do my eyes for the next time?"

"of course, toms."

"so you think there's gonna be anybody out there tonight?"

vince's question was the one that y/n was interested about too. she feared a little that it's gonna be a big disgrace, but they had only minutes, and she had a lot worse situations in her life.

"we put up enough fliers, i hope so."

"it's gonna be fine, guys." y/n added. "first concerts are always the most difficult ones, but we had rehearsals many, many times. whatever happens, we're here for each other, right?"

"that's right, princess." nikki answered her as he stood up, making y/n snicker. he wore red high heels, fucking red high heeled boots! "what's up?"

"you all were wondering about what i wear, but you wear fucking red high heeled boots too! what the fuck?"

"it's called style."

"no, it's called women footwear."

stepping out, her heartbeat began to increase as fast as a ferrari. there weren't many people, but maybe it was better. if the 'concert' is shit, then there's not any people to brag about it. okay, y/n, you just quit your job, you moved out and moved in with a junkie runaway, and you banded up with four guys for this shit. you aren't a slutty pole dancer from right now on, you're a fucking rock star.

"you all right?" mic asked her as she exhaled an inhaled, making her nod.

"yeah, yeah."

nikki taped the song list on of the speakers, scattered applause could be heard. vince tapped y/n's shoulder, as she walked in and took out the microphone from its stand.

"hello everybody! we're mötley crüe." she said, the lights coming onto her. tommy tried to drum some solo, but with too big drive, he accidentally knocked over one of the drums.

"fuck!" he muttered, hurrying to pick it up. some of the audience laughed at this, making y/n's blood pressure driving up. keep calm, keep calm, keep calm.

"come on!" nikki whispered to tommy turning around, getting a glance from y/n. this is his first actual concert, bloopers like this are fine. or so she thought. everybody was on the edge.

"you suck!"

"get off the stage!"

y/n spinned the microphone, pointing to the dudes who yelled these words.

"hey you two, fuck y'all! let's rock this hole!"

starting to play live wire, y/n almost forgot the bad comments, but she was wrong in her assumption that those assholes gonna stop.

"who's the chick singer? and the other chick?"

"she's the band-whore or can i fuck her too after the concert? because if yes, then i'll stay!"

wait wait wait, what the fuck did he just say? y/n stopped in her movements, looking at vince.

"fuck you, asshole." the blonde said, getting the buff guy with a beard spit on his jeans. those famous, white leather jeans.

y/n smirked as she saw vince getting off the stage. hell could break loose, because she's not gonna let some fuckers humiliate her neither.

as vince fell back, she got into the eyesight of the buff guy, but she saw from the corner of her eye that nikki was on the way, swinging his guitar. mick still played the song, and somehow this was just fucking funny. grabbing the microphone, she used the cable to swing into the other guy's face, the whole room filled with a sharp piping. before she could enjoy her first knock-out, someone grabbed her hair to hit her face, exactly her nose. it was just the edge of it, but still, it hurt like a bomb exploded on her face.

"how the fuck dare you hit her?" she heard nikki, getting into the fight, diverting a guy from her, so now, it was a one versus one. swiping off the blood, she got up, eluding a hit from the guy who hit her, she kicked with her fucking perfect shoes right into the middle of his crotch, getting him falling back, grabbing his dick with two hands. one guy hissed from the audience.

"how the fuck dare you to touch my hair?" as the guy stood up, she was ready to kick again, but one security guy hold her arms back, another trying to keep back the guy. as he tried to break out, y/n kicked him in the face from drive, a little blood falling on the floor. this got a bigger 'ow' from the audience.

"it's enough, chill out, lady!" the security guy told her, letting her go as he and the other tossed the guys out, she picked up the microphone that she used as a weapon. tommy just stopped beating the last guy, she stumbled back to vince and nikki. y/n didn't even noticed that everybody got silent while they were probably just doing things on their own way.

this was over. this was fucking cool, but seriously, who'd want to go to a band's concert that beats their audience, even if they're fucking assholes?

"FUCK YEAH, MÖTLEY CRÜE!" a guy yelled, breaking the silence, clapping as loud as he could. others began to clap too, and soon, the whole room echoed from the applause. she felt nikki's tap on her shoulder, singing her to get up to the stage again. with the microphone in her hand, she was happy that it still worked.

"you alright, y/n?" vince asked, making her turn to him, hugging her.

"oh, yeah, i'm fucking fine, and you?"

"everything's alright. your nose is bloody."

"again?" she asked disappointedly, trying to wipe the blood off with little to no success.

as they stood back, tommy began to play the drums, y/n looked at nikki. reaching out, he swiped off the blood from her nose, touching her lips while looking into her eyes. she wanted smudge the black paint on his face with her lips ad her fingers, it was fucking hot, and she felt her knees going weak a little bit. she only smiled, every sound was muffled by the guitar that mick played.

the concert was successful in the end, some people got in the bar through the concert. y/n made little gigs, she let vince spin her, shaking her body and throwing her hair like she was a vogue model, in her ridiculously high platformed heels, twisting the cable of the microphone around her arm.

after their third concert, y/n was blowing a cigarette as she talked with the people who went to mötley crüe's concert, and soon, she felt an arm around her shoulders.

"what's up, princess?" nikki asked from her, and in exchange, she let her took a drag from her cigarette as she took it to his mouth.

"nikki? oh my god, your riff was so cool! i loved it so fucking much!" the guy said, making y/n and nikki smile. "can i ask you something, guys?"

y/n furrowed her eyebrows, then shrugged her shoulders.

"you already did it, mate." she said, getting a slight laugh from the others who were listening to them.

"are you two a couple?"

"excuse me?" she asked, looking at nikki, who seemed at least as surprised as she, if not more.

"sorry, excuse me! just, like, you two just give off the energy."

at this, y/n choked on the smoke she just inhaled, coughing a little while nikki laughed.

"you hear that, princess? we seem like a couple." nikki said loudly, licking her hair, her temple wetted from his tongue.

"fuck you, sixx. you know, the problem is, that there's too much testosterone on the stage with those four boys."

"yeah, we can feel that! but you're like a rock angel, y/n, i don't have seen many good frontwomen, but you're cool. you fill up the stage with vince, and it's not like you're there because you're just a wannabe-rockstar chick, you act casually."

"thank you." y/n muttered, leaning into nikki. "but no, we're not a couple. that'd fuck up the band, i think."

going home, nikki nudged y/n's shoulder, y/n tossed on him in exchange. they were drunk, y/n could barely walk on her big heels, grabbing into his arms before this little gig.

"oh, really?" he said, spinning and pinning her to the phone booth. trying to move, she whined from the nikki's arm that didn't let her go, trying to sneak out from it, he shook his head, tutting. "what now, princess?" he asked.

"let me go." she whined, giggling, trying to toouch the ground with her legs. nikki was taller than her, and in her drunk state, she couldn't deny that it was really hot.

"for a kiss." looking at him, y/n smiled and looked away.

"nope."

"come on, just a little kiss."

the girl shrugged her shoulders the best she could, whispering in his ear. "i don't want to be your one-timer, nikki. i'm not in your band just to fuck with you, and if we want to do this, we have to do it proper."

"proper? what do you know about proper dating?" he pulled up his eyebrows.

"i just know that they didn't say that i'm your whore, they said that we look like a couple. don't make your fans disappointed, nikki."

"my fans? our fans. fuck them, i don't want to make you disappointed. i'm not good in relationships, i mostly had flings, so you can take my relationship-virginity."

"really? you want it? a relationships has boundaries and duties, are you ready for that?" she asked. she haven't felt ready either, but she loved to watch the wonder on nikki's face.

"i'm not sure... but you know what i'm sure about?" he spat the words, brushing their noses together, making her smirk and giggle again, she tried to bite him but he leaned away.

"what?"

"i'm sure that i want to give you everything."

y/n stopped in her motion, and for a moment, she got sober. did he really want to be in a relationship with her? come on, their band and their career basically just started, what if they break up in two weeks? if they really gonna make it, facing each other through long years is not gonna be easy.

"fuck, nikki." she muttered, tilting her forehead to his.

"fuck you, y/n, for not believing in me. what if i want to travel the world with you? to play in big stadiums, getting stupidly rich and high and have good sex? and of course, caring about each other, and all those lovey-dovey shit you girls like?" he said, brushing his lips against her forehead, then her cheeks, her nose, edging her. y/n's lips began to burn from lacking his lips on hers.

"i like that lovey-dovey shit." y/n answered, stroking his face.

"then i'll give it to you." he towered over her. "just say that you want it, that you want to be my girlfriend." nikki's whisper wandered around her mind. just say that you want it. i'll give it to you.

fuck, why not? y/n stroked nikki's face, smiling, and she felt that in seconds, a bomb's gonna explode.

"i want it, nikki."

nikki smiled, leaning closer to touch his lips with hers. grabbing the back of his neck, curling his black locks around her fingers, y/n bit into his lips.

"fuck, it's so crazy how you got me feel for you in fucking weeks." he muttered, trying to get her legs around her waist, but y/n tapped on his chest.

"stop, niks, i don't want to be on some handycam recorded sex-tapes that leaks out after we get famous." she muttered, making him laugh.

"me neither. only i get to see what's underneath these pretty clothes." he slapped her ass as they began to walk home. "can we continue this at home?"

y/n clicked with her tongue, holding onto his arm.

"i don't know... i need to shower first, the concert got me sweaty. and bloody, fuck."

"you were so fucking hot as you were fighting those guys."

"were i good?" she asked, leaning her head onto his arm.

"you were amazing, baby. you kicked out at least two of that asshole's teeth." nikki replied, making her giggle. "did you learn this at the orphanage?"

"i learned it in life. but orphanage was hard as hell, too."

"but now you are in perfect hands. well, not perfect, but pretty good hands."

"your hands?" y/n looked up, smiling as she brushed her nose against his jawline.

"my hands." nikki nodded, kissing her.

a/n: i know it's short, but i got a lot of work )): hope u don't mind. see u in the next chapter!!

taglist: @xamapolax

#nikki sixx imagine #nikki sixx smut #nikki sixx fic #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx #motley crue x reader #motley crue imagine #mötley crüe #nikki sixx x you #nikki sixx x reader

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askachroma · 4 months

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OOC// Encouraged by exactly two likes and one comment, I am hereby giving you (a lot of) Faba and Knox hc’s under the cut:

Faba:

-Has a special interest in old electronics. Especially gaming electronics— he has a collection of old consoles which includes several game boys. If he trusts you to handle one, it’s the highest of compliments.

-Despises dry textures (chalk, balloons, etc). Keeps moisturiser on his person often to avoid dry skin.

-Deals with stress by taking baths. A lot of baths. It’s like a sacred ritual to him; he has a variety of different bubble mixes depending on the occasion, and scented candles to go with them that he’ll light around the edges of the bath. He’ll take in a good book, and he can be in there for hours.

-Very insecure about his height. He’s a little sensitive about his early receding hairline too, but the one thing that will really get to him is remarks about his small stature. He usually wears heels or wedges, or otherwise platformed shoes to bump himself up a few inches. They sometimes make his feet sore, which makes him grumpy.

-Has a serious weakness for muscles. “Secretly” wants Knox to fold him in half. Colress thinks it’s funny that Faba thinks he’s being subtle about it.

-Watches the wrestling channel a lot because of the above, although he claims it’s because he’s genuinely interested in the sport. He thinks no one knows the real reason. …In fact, everyone knows.

-Bisexual, but with a female lean. If Colress or Knox want to tease him, they know to wear trad. femme clothing, or make-up. …Especially stockings.

-Did drag once, and was actually kind of good at it.

-He and Colress met each other at a Unovan university while Colress was studying for his first Masters, and Faba was for his second. Colress was early twenties, Faba was mid-late twenties. There’s about four years between them.

-While he was at university, he and Colress were party of a DnD society and played with several other of its members. Faba took it very seriously.

-He got married when he was twenty-six ish, then divorced when he was thirty one. It hit him hard, and he stayed with Colress while he picked himself back up. Because Colress was there for him, Faba had/s a deep (platonic at the time) love for him.

-Neat freak. Unfortunately, neither Colress nor Knox give much of a flying fuck about how clean their living space is (unless it’s becoming unhygienic), so Faba does most of the housework simply because he’s the first to be bothered by the mess. Luckily, he doesn’t mind cleaning that much.

-Adores being physically pampered by his partners, especially receiving massages or having his head stroked. Such a cat.

-Good cook! Not like master chef level, but makes some nice dishes.

Knox:

-Enjoys, and is very good at, sewing, knitting and crocheting. He often makes little jumpers or hats for his Pokémon. He’s somewhat embarrassed of the hobby though.

-A terrible cook. They burn everything they touch, despite their best efforts. Although, they were never taught and have undiagnosed ADHD so can you blame them?

-Lived out of their car from age eighteen to twenty-eight. Occasionally they would stay over at Colress’ lab after the two met and became friends, and now at twenty-nine they’ve fully moved in with him. They’ve still got their car though. They adore that car- even though it looks and runs like utter garbage.

-He and Colress saved one another many times early on in their friendship, which lead them to become close quite quickly, even as things remained complicated between them.

-Has a phobia of bodies of water. Even a small pond is enough to make them nervous. All stemmed from almost drowning as a child. As a result they’re not the most comfortable being around water type Pokémon, although it’s mostly the fish shaped ones that upset them.

-Terrified of Pelippers. They were attacked by one once and it stole his fish and chips. He was not happy.

-Has a knife collection they’re very proud of, and keeps them incredibly sharp.

-Specialist in fire type Pokémon. He always liked the illusion of control that burning things, big or small, gave him.

-Heavily neglected and physically abused as a child that left them with mental and physical scars. It’s shaped them into a highly defensive person who is very distrustful of people.

-Trans-masculine and non-binary. Got his hormones from the gang he used to be a part of, as well as his top surgery. Now-a-days Colress gets him his hormones to spare him any hassle.

-A smoker but is trying to cut down, especially after realising Colress steals their cigarettes when he’s upset.

-He’s a mercenary. They got into the line of work young, as their older brothers were in a gang that Knox quickly also became part of. They’ve actually made quite a name for themselves in the black market and among evil teams, because of their ability to consistently deliver rare materials. Hey, they’ve got a lot of experience. Some notable teams they’ve done work for are: Team Rocket, Team Galactic (very briefly), Team Plasma (mostly for Colress), and Aether Paradise (legal work). They tried to work for Team Flare because they wanted a suit, but didn’t get the chance. They were quite bummed about it.

-Because they worked so widely between regions, they know bits and pieces of a few different languages.

-Despite being resigned to the mercenary life, Knox has always had a secret ambition to open a cat-Pokémon café.

-They have a spot for Pokémon, since their Pokémon were the closest thing they had to a family for a long time.

#// tw brief abuse mention #// headcanons #faba #branch chief faba #knox

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fayefayefaye90 · 4 months

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i’m intrigued by all of these 👀 but if no one else asked about it yet, pregnant lesbians is at the top of my list!

This is actually a wlw thread series on my twitter account! It’s four parts so far, to be continued. But since this is a new platform I’m just going to post the whole thing here! Enjoy folks!

Stevie isn’t supposed to be this person.

It’s one thing to miss out on college, and another thing to fuck strangers in bars, and an entirely different, entirely worse third thing for Stevie to be nineteen years old and walking into the Planned Parenthood with a positive pregnancy test in her purse.

As it is, Teddie told her about this place, a big city clinic that makes her feel like she’s on an entirely different Earth from the one she’s always known–not a single face she knows, not an eye on her, so unlike every person she’s ever seen because unlike every soul in Hawkins, they don’t know her name.

Teddie offered to go with her too, and she’s regretting not taking her up on it. Something about Teddie’s skinny shoulder sitting just an inch or two above hers makes her feel more comfortable, like someone else is in charge for once, but that’s why Stevie couldn’t do it—she needs to do this alone.

The front desk checks her in and when the nurse asks And what can we do for you today, dear? Stevie isn’t sure what to say. She wants to know her options. Actually, what about just dying? Dying doesn’t seem terrible, and she has the bizarre thought that if she could check in for a routine Death treatment, one that’s covered by Medicaid in the state of Indiana, that would be just the thing, rather than confront any of it. What will her parents say? Her old friends? Fuck, /Keith/?

He already thinks she’s an airhead, judgmental despite the fact she’s seen him lick cheeto dust off of his own work vest.

She wants to know her options. Mostly she wants someone to tell her that it’s okay–that maybe she fucked up, maybe she needs help, and advice, but it’s okay, it’s going to be okay.

If she could scrape out the inside of her brain, get rid of the grime, the sludge of other people’s feelings, other people’s fears and thoughts, she’d know that what she most deeply wants is to stop, to feel this. To give in to the knowledge that there’s the beginnings of a little person inside of her, and /feel/ it. Her body–this body that can’t seem to do much of anything since high school, nothing but house her scrambled egg brain and run a decent mile–is growing a life, nurturing it, blowing it up like a little ball of dough that’s going to flounce outward and become a whole cake—one that can see, and blink, and hear, and sniffle, and think.

She wants to ask the nurse–is it wrong that I can see it? That it feels so right, like maybe the only thing that’s ever been right? Because it’s so wrong, of course it’s wrong, the whole thing! I think I remember his name—y’know, the guy—but you could tell me it was something you made up and I wouldn’t know any different; fuck, it could’ve been Bob Hope and no wonder I don’t remember any condom—and I’m supposed to want something more, right? I’m supposed to wait for the white dress, white picket fence, white gold and diamond on my finger, something more than this…

…but what could be more than this?

She was supposed to wait, but she didn’t wait. And she doesn’t die. She leaves the exam room with vitamins and a stack of brochures. Looking down at her stomach, it seems the same, maybe a little bloated. Six weeks, they said. Thirty-four more.

Imagining this tiny ball of mucus that’s becoming the smallest little human, she breezes through the waiting room as if in a dream, forgetting those eyes who’ve never seen her before.

It was Teddie’s idea.

Jeff wasn’t a fan, really. They’d just been friends for so long, and there was something frantic, uncomfortable about the whole thing. Teddie could tell she was being weird. But she just had to find out.

“I just need to know,” she’d say, pretty much every day, every morning of that stifling, hot, boring summer. Getting off of night shift at the plant alongside her uncle, wired, not being able to sleep. Trudging down the lane, over to Jeff’s, where his mom had already poured her a coffee—every morning. “I just need to feel it once, and then I’ll be fine.”

“This is a way bigger deal than you think it is,” Jeff would say.

“Untrue,” Teddie would lie. She’s always been a bit of a misfit, sexless and strange, but if she goes much longer without knowing what it feels like to intimately touch a man, she thinks it might do real damage, permanently alienate her. It’s a big deal, to her. So she’d say, “It’s an extremely little deal. It’s nothing. And like, I trust you! You’re my friend.”

“That’s the problem, Teddie,” Jeff finally says, one day. “I just think you trust me a little too much!”

“Impossible—”

“It’s… it’s important, the first time! And what if it’s… what if it happens, and it’s not what you wanted?”

“What do you mean?” she looks at him, sincere. She’s playing dumb; she knows she is, and she doesn’t normally do this, but he can’t keep saying no, “I’m literally asking you to do it.”

“And… and then what? What if you don’t like it? What if it… doesn’t work?” Jeff bites his lip, holds his elbows, thumps one heel in a dancing rhythm on the porch. They both know what he means. Her plan. The whole, kickstarting her interest in guys thing.

It’s a harebrained idea that’s gnawed at her for weeks—since she graduated high school at the age of 21, still a tender and awkward virgin with a deep seated fear of this /thing/. It’s something little—this inexperience, this absence of interest—but with every passing day it has greater power to turn her into something big: a freak, an alien, something too weird to ever truly fit.

Especially… especially since she started working at the video store. Especially since she’s been spending so damn much time with Stephanie Harrington.

She can’t listen to Stevie talk about dating, about picking up guys anymore—she can’t keep feeling this way—this heat, this mortification, whenever she hears about it, whenever she remembers how different they are, the two of them. They should be the same, in this way. They should be the same with this, even though they’re so different. Teddie’s having difficulty parsing her feelings about the whole ordeal, but this will /help/, she knows it.

“But what if it does.. work?” Teddie says, plucking the thread where her t-shirt is unraveling. “If I just knew what it was like, and then I could like, y’know, I would get a boyfriend? I wouldn’t be acting like this anymore. I could just like, be normal about it! And I promise I won’t fall in love with you, just because you’re my first time, or whatever.”

Jeff snorts, audibly, rubbing his face. “Yeah, no, I’m not worried about that.”

“Good!” Teddie says, face flushing. It’s the heat, she thinks. That’s why she’s so sweaty, and her heart rate is doing a weird lurch that she hates. It’s why she’s so uncomfortable.

“I still think you’re insane,” Jeff says, “but if it’s this important to you—”

Teddie’s head whips in his direction, her tangled hair spinning like the blade of a helicopter.

“Wait, seriously?” she asks, then cheers, “Jeff! Yes! Thank you! Thank you!”

Jeff sighs, accepts the hug that’s offered.

So, they do, later that day. Sex. And It’s fine. Just—fine. Teddie doesn’t try to kiss him, doesn't want to make it weird, but he stops her partway through, holds her face and kisses her anyway, closed lipped, like a reassurance, and she’s weirdly grateful; it feels the friendliest thing he’s ever done for her.

But, yeah, Teddie learns: sex is fine.

It’s what they find out afterward that’s not fine.

Not for the first time, Stevie is jealous of Robin.

Because Robin can eat anything without gaining any weight. He has the longest eyelashes Stevie has ever seen on a human. And Robin is very obviously, without question or doubt, a gay man.

Since they were children, people have been making comments about Robin—almost never kind. Robin, whose only friends are girls. Robin, who has the lisp, the voice. Robin, who has the walk. It’s obvious on Robin: the whole gay thing.

When they were in school, Robin was called every slur in the book. Their peers, they did the wrist thing. They’d joke about him owning heels and dresses. Robin never played sports; Robin failed gym class and had to do summer school because he wouldn’t touch a locker room. He’s paid for it in missing teeth: the whole gay thing.

He’s incredibly strong; he’s had to be. Everyone knows.

No one knows about Stevie. No one knows what she’s come to learn about herself.

She still sleeps with men, and it’s fine. It’s fun. It’s enough to keep it away—the thoughts she’d rather not explain to anyone. She’s hoping the baby takes that away actually: a form, a curving shape she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about. It’s a shape that has more recently developed particular features, a certain face.

As if reading her mind, Teddie runs into family video with her hand over her mouth.

Eddie is trying. She’s really trying to hold her life together.

It’s an old story: up late, never early enough. Never early enough to make the coffee without spilling something, never early enough to get dressed without having to change something. Never early enough to drive to work without speeding, never well fed enough to take her giant multi vitamin without wanting to hurl.

She’s running into Family Video with her hand over her mouth. Stevie barely has time to look at her funny before Teddie darts to the bathroom to throw up.

Teddie’s mortified when Stevie follows her in. Wide eyed, between hurls, she has something stuck to her lip. She gags at the feeling and wipes it off before sticking her head back into the toilet.

“Dude, don’t come in here!” Teddie says, then spits into the toilet.

“Relax, Munson,” Stevie says, voice low and calming; she’s crouching down to rub Teddie’s back. Her thin fingers work across Teddie’s neck, gathering and holding her hair in a low ponytail.

“Yknow, It’s funny? I’m the pregnant one, but you’re the one over here puking.”

“You haven’t puked?” Teddie says, deeply upset by this. “You’re the one who’s supposed to puke!”

“I know,” Stevie chuckles, rubbing the spaces in Teddie’s spine with the other hand as she retches, dry this time. There’s hidden strength in her hands, gentle strength like that of a long standing tree, or a grandmother who’s rubbed more children’s backs than she can count.

Teddie spits, again, feels the tenderness in Stevie’s hands which is too much, too real. Stevie’s breath coming over her shoulder is too sweet smelling, too kind to be in this video store bathroom. It’s like she doesn’t even know what Teddie’s doing.

Teddie feels the bizarre urge to make this funny. If it’s funny, it’s not anything else.

“You have a thing for this?” Teddie says.

“What?”

“Y’know, like a fetish? Girl on her knees in the video store bathroom—”

Stevie wrinkles her nose, but she’s smiling, Eddie can hear it in the way she says, “ew.” Score one for Munson.

“Because it would be fine if you did,” Teddie says, on a roll now, spitting the last of the ick from her mouth. “I’ve heard pregnancy does weird stuff to you.”

“Well,” Stevie says, with a laughing grin, “maybe you’re pregnant, too.”

Teddie snorts, regrets snorting, feeling the cold mucus in her throat make a sour resurgence. “Fat fucking chance,” she says.

“Not getting laid, Munson?” Stevie says, something too casual in her voice.

Teddie goes cold, feels herself pale.

“Oh, shit,” she says, meeting Stevie’s eyes with a grimace. She feels the panic, coming on. “What am I going to do?”

Teddie gets her own trailer a few days before she has an abortion.

Just the idea of something growing inside of her—something alive, not jus bacteria but a whole animal with a brain, the idea that something like that would feed off of her energy until it was ready to emerge from her in a bloody show that could kill her—it doesn’t exactly fill her with maternal longing. It’s more like something from a horror movie that’s also taking place in outer space.

Now, Steph could do it. She could make it look metal: ripping a child from her womb, strong and defiant and glistening with her own blood, ready to attach the suckling infant to her heavy breast, roaring with pain and triumph as bonding chemicals surge through them both. Steph could do it.

Teddie’s not Steph.

She tells Jeff beforehand—not for any reason but guilt. It was her idea, after all. She’s the one who said it probably wouldn’t take. It was her first time and she was on top—it wasn’t supposed to take.

They’re sitting on her new front porch, just behind Wayne’s trailer. She can see the window of her childhood bedroom, where she had sex with a man for the first time. The only time.

“Oh thank god,” the man (the boy, really) says, head in his hands, relief coming off of him in waves. Teddie’s not trying to have a baby either but she’s a little insulted.

“My parents…” he continues, “man my parents would kill me. After making me marry you, they would kill me.”

“What?” Teddie rears back, not expecting that, “Oh god, what the fuck?”

Her mortification must show on her face.

Jeff looks like he’s going to laugh, but he almost always looks like he’s going to laugh. That’s part of what she loves about him.

He says, “Hey, jackass, I’m not trying to marry you either—“

“What, like you and me? Church basement? Like with the dress and the suit and everything?”

“I’m serious. Like the plague. Mr. And Mrs. Jones.”

“But they wouldn’t have to know,” Teddie interrupts, “if I kept it.”

Jeff looks at her, incredulous. He sucks on his braces for emphasis.

“Oh yeah,” Jeff says, “like you’re just going to have your Black baby running around the trailer park with your Black best friend, and nobody would know—”

Despite herself, Teddie starts to laugh. Jeff’s relief and her own bubble up like soda fizz.

“You’d be running after him like ‘Get back here Eomer!’ And I’d just be sitting here, sipping coffee, like that baby has nothing to do with me..?

Teddie gets up for more coffee, still laughing.

#wlw steddie

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the-fiction-witch · 5 months

Text

Christmas Train

Media Nanny Mcphee

Character Simon Brown (Age Up)

Couple Simon X Reader

Rating Sweet

Fictional Advent Day Four

I picked up my suitcases and took a step back from the platform as the train rushed into the station, steam filling the sky as it flooded from the train. The sky was grey and heavy likely looking as if it soon would rain down heavily. As soon as the train actually stopped I moved down to the nearest door and I hopped onto the train, I moved down the corridor looking for an empty unlocked cabin, most of the cabins that were empty were locked so I couldn't go in until I found of the last cabins that only had one person inside. So I tapped on the half-open door "Excuse me, Do you mind?" I asked glancing to the other side, The man looked up from his leather-bound book adjusting himself and fixing his blue waistcoat a little "No, no Please," He said "Thank you," I smiled setting my bags above and taking a seat across the table from him with the window looking out as we headed off from the station "Do excuse me, half of the cabins are locked," "I noticed that too. I think it's because of the weather they lock half of them so they only need to heat the open half" he laughed "Practical I suppose." I chuckled "Y/n Y/l/n," I smiled offering my hand "Pleasure" He smiled giving my hand a kiss "Simon Brown," he smiled "I'm sorry Miss y/l/n?" "Yes." "Couldn't be roses in the brook, miss Y/l/n?" "The Very same" I giggled "I have to admit brown brings a thought to my mind but I'm terrible with names" "Uhhh… You may be familiar with the wicked Nanny?" "Oh my goodness! Yes of course I'm so sorry" "It's alright a lot of people don't recognise me" "Tea?" A lady asked as she came by the door "Would you like one?" he asked "I'd love a cup" I smiled trying to get my purse but he stopped me "Two if you please, extra milk no sugar for me, how do you take yours?" "Just the same" I smiled the lady made us our tea and handed them to us so we sat them on the table she shut the door and carried on down the carriage so I took my spoon giving it a good stir. "what may I ask brings you to the rattling rails today Mr Brown?" I asked "Well, it's that time of year, got to take a pilgrimage to see the folks" He laughs sipping his tea "Yourself?" "I always take the train up to a little holiday home of mine for Christmas, I do love the snow in the country. Winter isn't the same in the city." "Sounds lovely" He smiled "ohh seems we have some snow to join us" He smiled I looked and saw the sweet hills and valleys, fields littered with sweet houses, trees bare of their leaves, all now being dusted by a sweet fluffy of snow that had already begun to settle and coat every inch of the world outside, the shadow of the snow fell across our table, and for a moment it was utter bliss to sit int he warm comfort of our little cabin, on cosy plump seats, with the heater under the table working away to push out sweet warmth while watching the snow flutter and fall. "You have anyone joining you at the holiday home?" "No. Just me." "Oh, even on Christmas day?" "Yes, no family to visit me so" "Well… I know my family would be happy to host you if you'd like to come have dinner with us?" "Really? They wouldn't mind?" "Not at all. they'd be thrilled to have you" "I don't want to impose" "No no absolutely your more then welcome" "Thank you, that's very kind of you Simon, I return I'd love to extend an invitation to you for new years, my little holiday home looks over the lake and they often launch fire works" "I'd love to. It's agreed then. I look forwards to it" He smiled giving my hand a little kiss

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littlebodybigdreamz · 1 year

Text

Strawberry Fields... Where Nothing is Real

Hi all! I wrote an Au about the lovely George Harrison <3 I've always loved The Beatles but it wasn't until this year I really got into each individual Beatle as an artist after they broke up. But nontheless here is an Au I wrote one night trying to get my inner feelings out for a musician gone too soon.

I hope you all enjoy <3

btw him with this guitar is iconic. I can't - breathe.

It was 1967, the Beatles were at the height of their fame, and the boys were having a release party for a new record that was set to be released. You had been in love with George for a while now, of course you had, every single woman who came around tended to fall head over heels for the man. You had become one of the unlucky girls, although you hid it well because you didn't want to lose your assistant job.

You had started out as their assistant, helping run errands and fetch whatever they needed. You were a pretty girl; with a Hispanic background who somehow ended up living your whole life in Liverpool like the boys. You had jet-black long hair and beautiful caramel skin that turned pale when you didn't go out in the sun for a long time. Big brown eyes that you considered ugly due to the fact most of the boys tended to go after the girls with beautiful blue or green eyes.

You weren't the jealous type either, except for when it came to Pattie, although she was nice, she often caught the eye of George. You knew you had no reason to be jealous though, not because you couldn't be because of your contract, you just knew no matter what, George had never once tried or at least never seemed interested in you from day one. You weren't hurt by this either, you just knew you had fantasies that would never play out the way you wanted. And you were okay with all of that.

Until, that day, the day of the Beatles' album release party, you had decided to wear a nice flowy dress with flowers all over. You wore some brown platform shoes to give you a few inches of height as you were a shorter girl. You had accidentally taken the wrong turn a few blocks away and thus were late to the party by an hour. This had never happened before, and you'd hoped Brian wouldn't fire you over a small mistake. How were you supposed to know the street was a one-way?

Anyhow, you arrived how people would say, "fashionably late". When you walked through the big wooden doors you saw Brian and his date casually drinking whatever they had in their cups. "Oh, look it's the beautiful y/n!", he said loudly quickly bringing a cup to your face. The smell of vodka hit your nostrils; Brian was offering you what seemed like a cup full of vodka. "Come on y/n! You work so hard! Relax for one weekend! Come on!", the girl next to him was eyeing you with jealousy. She had no idea you only had eyes for George. Nobody did.

With the music coursing through your veins, you grabbed the cup and took a big swig of it. "WOOO! Y/N!", Brian yelled, he was gone, to say the least. From the corner of your eye, you saw Ringo, you excused yourself away from Brian to the chill and peaceful Beatle, Ringo Starr. "Hello their love. What took you so long? We were all looking for you". You smiled at his words, the hot feeling in your stomach was growing as your boldness grew more and more. "Oh really? You asked slyly. Ringo and you had been close for years, he even was dating one of your closest friends, so you had no hate for the guy. In fact, you loved his whole peace motto. George was the one you really loved talking to and even though you had just taken a swig of that drink you had begun to feel the effects of vodka on an empty stomach. "Where is everybody else?", you asked not wanting to get too specific of course.

"Ah... they're all out back y'know talking to guests", Ringo rolled his eyes, after knowing him for a few years you knew he disliked reporters. Always wanting to get the "in" on whatever drama could be going on between the beloved four. "Oh okay". You said nonchalantly, what else could you say to the man? He had been talking to a girl and she had begun eyeing you jealously as well. You excused yourself starting to feel small again. You grabbed a cup out of Brian's hand and chugged it down. "WOOOO! Y/n you are on fire tonight madam!", he laughed drunkenly and embraced you. You giggled, and just then you felt a hand tap you on the shoulder, turning around you saw Paul. Geez, were you seeing all the men in the band except the one you truly wanted to lay eyes on?

"Hey, darling". Paul said cheerfully, he was never one to go all out and drink like that instead he often paired his fingers with a blunt to keep him chill for the night. "Hello Pauly", you said coyly, calling him by the pet name you gave him many years before. "Where have you been y/n? George has been asking for you for a while now". He said, your heart began to flutter. "Really?", was all you were able to muster out of your mouth. Paul smiled as if he knew something was up by the way you responded. "What?", you asked nervously. "He's waiting for you outside by the buddha fountain", was all Paul said before grabbing two cups full of whatever vodka drink from a waiter nearby. Handing you one he smiled, took a swig, and walked away smiling.

Your heart was beating fast, you were happy and yet you were nervous. Why had George been waiting for you? Maybe he just wanted you to fetch something for him like he usually did? Oh well, you thought, with the cup in your hand you went outside towards the buddha fountain George liked so much.

Outside you saw him, he wore a nice navy-blue suit with fine white lines. He looked sophisticated and handsome, his hair was shoulder length, the style you had come to love when the band began to grow out their hair. He had a cig in between his fingers and was bringing it up to his lips when he noticed you. A smile spread across his face, the vodka had now been the reason you were able to casually walk up to him and tell him, "So, darling... I've heard you've been looking for me?", you asked with boldness in your voice.

He chuckled, "Yes dear, I was wondering if you'd ever show up", he smiled offering you a bum of his cig. You took it while putting the cig in between your lips you looked at the man, his gorgeous eyes meeting yours. As you took a long drag, he said, "Darling, you look beautiful tonight.", he smiled kissing your cheek.

Your cheeks flushed; you passed the cig back to him after a few drags. "Now I know what the Harrison effect is", you giggled mentioning the phrase many spoke as the way George had with many women. He loved the attention of any woman who crossed his path. Then a new thought crossed your mind, what would make you any different?

He smiled, "No Hun, the only woman I'd ever wanted to have an effect on was and is you". You smiled but the thought still lingered in the back of your mind. You watched as from the side Pattie came up to you both, she smiled her way getting George's attention. He gave in, smiling, you looked at the two of them and smiled as you made up an excuse to leave.

As you walked back inside you chugged the rest of your vodka-mixed drink. You went into the kitchen wanting to find water to even out everything, and while you were there you grabbed a cup from one of Brian's shelves and went over to the fountain. Turning the faucet on, you let the cold water fill up the glass almost all the way to the top. You looked out the window that was above the sink, it gave you a view of the backyard. You watched as George and Pattie talked, they were laughing and she got closer to his face more and more while she laughed. You sighed taking a big gulp of the water.

"Ah these two...", a voice next to you startled you. You jumped to your left was now John, had he been watching you this whole time? "Hi John", you said gulping more of the water. "You know, if you like the guy you should go tell him. Before someone else confesses their feelings", John looked down at you sincerely. You knew he knew now how you felt about George. "How do I tell him when he is obviously into someone else?", I sighed asking John. "Trust me, darling, he doesn't feel the same way for her as he does for you. You should probably know that by now. The number of times he talks about you, fetches you to get something for him just so he can see you. Well, I've lost count by now". John chuckled, bringing his cup to his lips.

You looked out the window again, this time George was alone, his cig was to his lips as he looked at the Buddha and the fish that swam in the fountain. "I think I'll go talk to him. Thank you, John,", you turned to him and smiled.

As you walked back outside you watched the handsome guitarist under the lights Brian had set up. He continued watching the fountain not noticing you until you spoke. "Hello George", you said, George looked up and instantly smiled when he noticed it was you who spoke his name. "I like it when you say my name", George said, not even realizing what you said but feeling the comfort of safety when he was around you. You smiled; your cheeks began to turn to a rosy pink. "I must tell you something... for a while now I've had feelings for you. I never knew if you felt the same way. But after tonight, I just couldn't keep it hidden anymore. Life is too short to keep anything hidden and I think you feel the same way about me too. So, I just-". You were cut off as George threw down his now finished cig, he grabbed you close to him, cupping your face, and he locked eyes with you. His beautiful eyes dilated as he looked into your soul, "I find you irresistibly attractive and I will not spend another day on this planet without you being mine". He looked at you and then pulled you in for a kiss.

As your lips met the fireworks in your stomach grew and then exploded. You had not been with someone who made you this hot in all the years you had been alive. In fact, you felt in this moment more alive than ever. As his soft lips touched yours, he pulled you closer and closer until you were one. You knew then and there the two of you would become inseparable. There would be many love songs dedicated to you in the future.

What you didn't know was from the kitchen, Brian, Paul, John, and Ringo all watched. They smiled, "Finally", Brian said with a liquefied smile on his face. The rest of the boys nodded in agreement. They were happy to see the two of you finally in an embrace that had been long overdue.

Strawberry Fields, where everything is real after all. Where love finds itself next to a Buddha fountain.

End.

#george harrison #george harrison x reader #george harrison imagine #the beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon #ringo starr #brian epstein

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slutforelliealways · 9 months

Text

Space Girl Pt: 3

Four ish months ago

Friday night and the bars were booming with college kids, Dina and Jesse had managed to drag you out of your rut and finally got you out of sweatpants.

“Cmon it’ll be so much fun!” Dina begged at the edge of your bed.

“D I really don’t feel like going to a bar and then having to drive you and Jesse home while you make out in my backseat drunk out of your minds!” You groan at the image.

“Jesse already has an Uber set up, you no longer have any excuses nor choices. Get the fuck up and put on the outfit I picked out for you! Now!” Dina yanks you up by your wrist and you don’t even bother protesting anymore, you’ve outsourced all excuses there’s nothing left so you simply get up and put on the clothes Dina picked out.

To be fair it was a great fit, a matching set, long sleeved crop top that cut right above your belly button (your favorite crop length) and matching tight pants. Both black with a pair of lavender platform sandals, you looked hot. “D i need to do my hair and makeup, can i at least meet you at the bar?” You poke at your face trying to find any excitement behind those tired eyes.

“Hair in a ponytail and we’ll bring your makeup in the car, let’s go dude it’s like a fucking party at the tipsy bison!” Dina started grabbing your makeup bag and you swiftly threw your hair up in a high pony, keeping your middle part visible it’s an important detail every hot girl knows.

“Okay ladies let’s go before the whole thing gets shut down for being too loud!” Jesse waves the two of you out of your apartment.

The car ride gave you plenty of time to do your makeup, you went simple but with a dark lipliner to give your face a pop. You finished off with a sparkly gloss and puckered your lips at Dina, “mwah! If Jesse wasn’t here you know I’d do you baby!” She winks at you from the front seat.

“Hey! Keep it in your pants D! Jesus you’re so gay!” He rolls his eyes and chuckles.

“Only for me Jess, Dina and I have been having an affair for much longer than you know.” You snicker and blow Dina a kiss.

“It’s true babe, I’m deeply in love with my baby girl in the backseat. I’m planning on leaving you soon to purse a future with her.” She smirks as Jesse rolls his eyes. Unfazed by your antics at this point.

“Alright you girls ready? It is time, to party, so hard!” The Uber pulled up right out front of the bar and your two lunatic friends jumped out immediately. You thanked the driver and handed him a cash tip before exiting the vehicle.

“Let’s do this”, you take a deep breath before entering. The atmosphere felt more like a club than the “casual” bar experience with some music your friends had assured you. Although you weren’t surprised by their downplay you huffed out and then allowed your buds to drag you inside.

Dina and Jesse had been downing drinks all night, she forced you to take at minimum four shots and a drink with her. After an hour standing at the bar the alcohol was kicking in, and you desperately needed to pee. You shoved your way through the crowds looking for the bathroom, whether it was the alcohol or the platforms we’ll never know but you stumbled. Hard. As you accepted your fate to have your face smash into the floor someone else had been eyeing you all night and caught you right as your forehead was an inch from meeting the floor. In one swoop of her arm you were brought back to your feet, you brushed your stray hairs back and caught your breath.

“Jesus christ I’m so sorry! The floors really got it out for me recently”, your chuckle stifled when you saw the broad and beautiful woman in front of you. Abby. Fucking. Anderson. “Ab- I mean hey.” You chuckle again awkwardly.

“You okay? Took quite a tumble there.” She looks at you concerned.

“I almost did but you caught me so”, you shot finger guns at her and immediately regretted it. “Sorry I don’t know why I did that. I get nervous around hot girls I guess.” You shoot her a pained smile remembering why you had headed in this direction in the first place. “Let me buy you a drink yeah? I just gotta pee and then I can meet you at the bar and I’ll get you whatever you want!”

“May I escort you to the restroom?” She smiled softly while gesturing to the big bathroom sign.

You grinned, “I mean yeah sure, i- if you want to yeah!” You were buzzed and crushing already so hard. She guided you by your hips over to the ladies room, there wasn’t a line thank god!

“I’ll wait right out here for you okay?” Abby brushed you into the bathroom, she had noticed you were doing what she would later name as your “pee dance”. To which you’d reply i dont not have a pee dance!

You had an awesome pee and checked yourself out in the mirror, you were busy reapplying your lipliner when the door swung wide open and Dina came stumbling in. “Yo is that Abby fucking Anderson?” She squealed.

“It is indeed. Guess who she’s waiting for out there!” You squealed back.

“No way!”

“Way!” You waved your arms and she waved hers back.

“Dude you’re gonna get laid tonight for sure!” Dina humped the air and made a moaning face.

“I fucking hope so! I’ve been trying to get on that all year.” You huff.

“We’re like three months into the year that’s not a long time.” She says confused.

“It’s been three months too long! She’s studying to be a fucking doctor how hot is that?” You check your phone to see how long you’d been in there. “Shit! I gotta go she’s gonna think I’m blowing the toilet up or something. I’ll text you if we end up going back to my place! Love you baby!”

“Love you baby girl!” She blew you a kiss and you caught it and blew one back.

You ordered the drinks for you and Abby, before you had taken your cash out she had already had the bartender swiping her card. “Hey I was supposed to pay for that!”

“You’re having a drink with me finally, I think that’s payment enough for saving you!” She smirks as she sips her G&T.

“Finally?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Yeah I mean, I guess I haven’t made any moves specifically but I figured after four borrowed pens you’d at least ask me out for coffee or something.” She raised an eyebrow back at you.

“Oh? Oh! Yeah don’t be mad but, I honestly just never have any pens.” You wince at the sentence.

“Damn okay! My heart hurts now, here I thought you were just checking me out.” She fakes chest pains and holds her chest.

“I’m fucking with you! I only go to the library on Tuesdays because I know you’ll be there. I always bring extra pens in case you need one but, you never need one.” You smile at her.

“Why not just ask me out instead?” She sips her drink.

“I told you. Hot girls make me nervous.” You wink.

“So what’s up with calling me Abby fucking Anderson?” She leaned in closer to you.

“Oh”, you chuckled nervously, “you heard that huh?”

“I did.” She smirked.

“It’s just a little nickname I guess, Dina threw it out first. It kind of stuck so now that’s what we call you. We could totally stop if you want!” Your cheeks felt warm but you stayed as confident as you could.

“I kind of like it. Makes me seem way cooler than I am.” She grabbed your hand, “so you gonna ask me to come home with you? Or do I need to take care of that too?”

You gulped, “did you want to come home with me tonight? Abby. Fucking. Anderson?” You leaned in closer and Abby met you with her lips.

You did end up taking Abby back to your place, and she stayed for a week after that. It was bliss, she got along with your friends. Dina would squeal about how you snagged her up finally, Jesse and her would bond over sports and who was the best whatever. Things were truly perfect, nothing could have ruined this!

Two ish months ago

You’d been sitting at your kitchen island waiting for Abby to finish her shower, once you heard the shower turn off you prepared yourself for your speech.

“Hey baby, why so serious?” She came out in grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt.

“Where is this heading?” You ask before you get distracted from her looks.

“I’m sorry?” She furrowed her brows and sat down next to you and reached for your hand.

“I mean where are we heading? I feel like after two months we should know where things are going. Do you want me around still or what?” You felt tears welling up and turned away to wipe them swiftly.

“Where is this coming from? I thought we were great.” She reached around and grabbed your chin softly to bring your gaze back to her.

“We are great, which is why it’s so confusing that you haven’t made any effort to move forward with this.. this relationship.” Your words kept getting caught in your throat and you started choking up.

“I just don’t want to rock the boat, things have been so steady. You make me feel safe and comfortable, i don’t want to fuck that up.” Her hands ran through her hair and she exhaled heavily.

“So, going steady for you means rocking the boat?” You questioned.

“I mean.. yeah I guess so.” She chuckled breathily. “Get dressed, I want to take you somewhere.”

“Right now?” You couldn’t hide the shock in your voice.

“Yes baby, right now. Go put something on!” She laughed as she shooed you to your room.

Abby took you to what became your guy’s spot, she parked in the lot and you stared out at the ocean. “It’s beautiful Abs, you take all your girls here?”

She chuckled, “no ma’am. Just you.”

“Hm yeah, sure.” You teased.

“I’m serious! My dad used to take me here when I was little, we’d get ice cream and watch the people surf. I always said I’d save it for someone special.” She brushed her fingers across your cheek.

“Must be pretty special to you then.” You leaned against her shoulder and she rested her head on yours.

“Yeah. Yeah I guess you are.” You saw a smile form on her face out of the corner of your eye.

A few weeks ago

“Why the fuck are we still on this huh!” Abby shouts from the living room.

“Because you failed to mention your little rendezvous while you were on vacation with your dad! Can i also go on dates with other women then or just you?” You shout from the bathroom.

“Jesus christ babe there was no rendezvous! She asked if I wanted a drink at a bar! I said yes, took the drink and left. That’s all that happened!” You heard her voice getting closer and a couple seconds later she was leaning in the doorway of the bathroom. “I swear there was no date, you’re blowing this way out of proportion!”

“Okay then, so if another woman offers me a drink I should take it?” You stop doing your mascara and turn to face her with your arms crossed.

“No!” She throws her arms up.

“Then why did you!” You throw your arms up mocking her.

“I don’t know! I’m sorry i just wasn’t thinking! Can we please move on from this!” She walked over toward you and you took a step back, “baby c’mon. Don’t be like this, forgive me so we can move past this.”

“Fuck off Abby! Go home, go anywhere honestly i don’t care. You’re such a fucking hypocrite and I can’t believe you’d do this to me!” You shove past her and go sit on the edge of your bed.

She followed you, “what did i do to you baby? Tell me please.” She coos at you.

“I’m so involved with you.” Her eye brow raised in confusion, “I mean like, I’ve gotten really attached.. to you.” You looked down at your hands.

“I see the problem”, she snickered, “this is pure jealousy isn’t it?”

“I mean yeah, wasn’t it obvious?” You chuckle and look up at her.

She tilted her head and leaned in and kissed your cheek, “eyes on you only. Okay? It was just a drink, that’s all.”

“Whatever.”

“I’m serious!” Her tone changed back to annoyed, “god why can’t you ever just let good enough be?” She stood up and started pacing the bedroom, “I mean Jesus babe! It’s like no matter what you just have to be mad at me! It’s exhausting! You are exhausting!”

“Get the fuck out!” You stood up and shoved her out of the bedroom.

“No wait hold on i misspoke!” She turned around to face you but you kept shoving.

“No, you didn’t. Please get out! Please!” Your voice broke and you couldn’t hold it together much longer. You swung the front door open and gave one final shove at her. “I’ll call you, later.”

“Please don’t do this I’m really sor-“ you slammed the door in her face and locked both locks.

“FUCK!”

Six days before the party

New message from Abs😍💕: I appreciate you hearing me out angel! Let me take you out to dinner on Friday.. you pick the place. Nothing is off the table <33!!!

You: It was nice seeing you lover, you know where I really want for dinner on Friday?

New message from Abs😍💕: Me?

You: Besides that!

New message from Abs😍💕: Tell me!

You: A fat fucking cheeseburger with a crisp beer🤤

New message from Abs😍💕: I gotchu baby. I’ll text you when I’m on my way, dress like you’ve got something to lose!

You: I always do for you <3

Friday

New message from Abs😍💕: Hey baby I’m so sorry but I’ve gotta cancel tonight, my dad wants to hangout and talk about something important. Swear I’ll make it up to you soon!

Present day

“I’ve always wanted you”, your lips were interlocked like air was in them and you both were suffocating. It was as if your lips had been begging for Ellie’s all this time. You gripped and yanked at her clothes and she dragged her tank top over her head in one swift move, you smirked at the sight of her bare chest and brushed your fingers across her nipples.

“Wait! You gotta show me your boobies too.” Ellie laughed so hard she snorted at her own remark.

“Way to keep the sexy vibe going.” You roll your eyes and laugh while removing your tank and your bra.

“Holy fuck.” Her eyes widen like she was mesmerized.

“What?” You wanted her to say it, so you played dumb.

“Not to be disrespectful but, you’ve got some nice fuckin boobs babe!” She smirked at you.

“Aw that’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever told me!”

“I know I’m kind of a romantic of sorts.” She tucked a fake hair behind her ear and laughed.

“Do you, even wanna do this?” You question, you noticed it seemed like she was stalling.

“I do! But not right now? I kind of just wanna kiss you and like be all intimate and shit without sex? Is that lame?” She shy’s up and looks down at her hands.

“That sounds.. perfect!” Her head snaps up at your remark and she smiles a goofy tooth filled smile.

“Yeah?”

“Ellie I would love nothing more than to just kiss you and be all intimate and shit. I just have to make sure this is really because of that and not because you don’t want to have sex with me ever.” You bit the inside of your cheek in anticipation of her answer.

“Okay my love, let’s get one thing straight. I would love to fuck you absolutely stupid and taste you on my tongue, but I really don’t want to confuse your decision with sex.”

Pull it together don’t think about the tasting me and fucking me stupid comment! Listen! You cleared your throat, “yeah no totally. So respectful of you Ms. Williams. You want to watch like a movie or something while we kiss and gaze into each others eyes?”

“Only if I can pick the movie!” She jumped to her unofficial side of the bed and snagged the remote from your bedside table.

“If you fucking pick aliens in the attic again-“

“It’s an amazing piece of cinema. Ashley Tisdale in a corny alien movie? You don’t appreciate the arts enough, I might not kiss you and just force you to watch the movie instead.” She jokes as she turns on… aliens in the attic.

“Whatever”, you smile and roll your eyes, “I’ll just distract you with my lips how about that.”

“Come here.”

You felt it become hot between your legs again and you did your best to ignore it. It was just so hard when she flicked her fingers for you to move up and looked down at you with hazy, pink, and green eyes. You swallowed how horny she’d made you and crawled up slowly towards her, once she was able to reach you she pulled you up to her and nuzzled under her arm. It was the most comfortable you’d felt in a little while, her arm was wrapped under your neck and her other hand intertwined with yours. You did kiss and gaze into each others eyes all night, you also found a new appreciation for the corniest movie to exist.

3 1/2 months ago

“You wanna go to Mexico with me?”

You propped yourself up on your elbow. “What?”

“You heard me.” Abby chuckled, pulling herself up to face you. “Alvarez, you remember him?” You nod, “well he’s from Mexico and his wife wanted them to get married in his home country. It’s a week at the beach, warm tropical weather, bottomless drinks, and after two days of wedding shit I get you all to myself for five whole days.” She cups your cheek and tilts her head with a smile painted wide across her face. “Doesn’t that sound so amazing baby?”

“I- it definitely is tempting.” Your reaction wasn’t pleasing Abby’s ears clearly as she had pulled away from you.

“Oh.. I mean you don’t have to go.” She shuffled around the bed for her shirt to cover up.

“No no! I want to! I just, have a lot of schoolwork to catch up on and-“

“It’s during spring break! So you wouldn’t have any work! Please come with me, please!” She begs, forgetting about her shirt.

“Abby, my love.” You giggle, “we’ve been seeing each other for a couple weeks. Don’t you think it’s a bit soon to take a trip together?” You question, smiling softly at her.

“It’s not until six months from now, so we’d have plenty of time together under our belt. At least consider it!”

You scratched you wrist for a couple of seconds while in deep thought, “fuck it, yeah I want to go to Mexico with you!”

“Yeah?” She jolted toward you grinning.

“Yes! Let’s be drunk and sunburned and crazy about each other for a week in a tropical paradise!” You launched into her lap and straddled her. She gripped your face and kissed you hard, you both smiled into the kiss and wrapped your arms around each other.

“I’ll order our plane tickets now then! The hotel is already taken care of graciously by Alvarez and his soon to be wife.” The blonde smiled from ear to ear as she tapped on her phone and made a very binding purchase.

The next morning after Ellie

New message from Abs😍💕: Hey so… I’ve still got you booked for our trip in a couple months. You obviously don’t have to go if you don’t want to but I think it would be good for us. I could always get a different hotel room if you want that. Just let me know whenever you can!

Ellie rolled her eyes reading the message, you were sound asleep next to her. Your face nuzzled into her chest and her arm wrapped under you, she smiled at the sight and almost forgot all about the text lingering on your Lock Screen. Why does she think it’s appropriate to even ask if you still wanted to go? Ellie huffed out and tried to fall back asleep only for it to fail, she reached for her phone and typed in an all too familiar phone number for a new text thread, this was either a good idea or a really fucking bad one. Her thumb hovered over the send button for a few seconds, fuck it!

New message from unknown number: Hey it’s Ellie. We should probably talk about her yeah? Seems we need to set some boundaries. Meet me at the tipsy bison tonight around 7:00. She’ll be at work and we can set some ground rules.

New message from Abby Anderson🤢🤮: Bold of you to reach out Williams. I assume you saw my message then?

New message from Ellie Williams😒: I saw it, my offer still stands. I’ll even pay for your drink.

New message from Abby Anderson🤢🤮: I think you should save your money, she’s got expensive taste. I’ll meet you there at 7:00 sharp.

Abby rolled over in her bed and took a deep breath, Ellie rolled over in your bed and exhaled heavily. You rolled over and began waking up, “good morning good lookin.” You groggily smiled at her and kissed her cheek. “You sleep okay?”

She nodded and kissed your lips, “better than ever!”

“I’ve got work today, shit actually what time is it? I got to run my classes start in 30 minutes! I’ll see you tonight okay, i work late so don’t wait up for me!” You jump out of bed and throw some clothes on and run your fingers through your hair. You blew Ellie a kiss goodbye and ran out the door.

“See you later, I’ve got stuff to do anyways.” Ellie whispered to herself as she watched you leave. She did have stuff to do, stuff that involved Abby fucking Anderson.

Authors note: Okay chapter 3 down in the books, do we like where the story is headed? Next chapter we’ll see the two love interests actually interact with each other which I personally am so excited about! Gonna try and create a master list for this series although I’m not too sure how to do that yet so don’t hold your breath for it! Okay loving you guys hope life is treating you all well!! See you next chapter! <3333

Tag list: @gold-dustwomxn

#ellie williams #abby anderson #ellie tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader

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thislovintime · 2 years

Photo

Peter Tork and Reine Stewart, late 1960s (photo by Henry Diltz via Getty Images); Jackson Browne and Peter, sometime in the 2000s (photo © Benford E. Standley via Pioneer Troubadours)

“Most of the people who live him (there are seven now) have known Peter for years. Since money has no value to him, and friends do, he lavishes his money on his friends. Peter has spent thousands of dollars just helping, with no thought of getting repaid. (That much has changed — a few years ago Peter couldn’t give much more than a sympathetic ear.) And while most of his friends are somehow involved in the music world, they are friends who went through the same struggles he experienced… Peter apparently has no truck with the countless hangers-on who live parasitically off the newly famous pop people. Peter isn’t as happy as he could be, but he’s relatively content. He’s working at things he likes and feeling creative about what’s going on. He has the freedom to do all the things he wanted to do years ago, such as producing records and making movies and getting into artistic things that are expensive to do. […] With all those people living with Peter now, he has very little privacy, but apparently it isn’t missed. Everyone at the house is working and ‘doing their thing.’ and the house is a simple, unpretentious, very lived-in home. As one person living there puts it[,] ‘It’s a happy, productive household, so full of love you can’t quite believe it.’” - Disc & Music Echo, May 11, 1968

“Peter was an extraordinary man. A philanthropist. The others, who he helped, didn’t have that same generous spirit.” - Reine Stewart, Love Is Understanding (2022)

“[Jackson Browne] nymphed away the summer of ’68 in Laurel Canyon. ‘These beautiful chicks from Peter Tork’s house, they kept coming over with these big bowls of fruit and dope and shit. They’d fuck us in the pool. We’d wake up and see this beautiful 16-year-old flower child who only knew how to say “fave rave,” with a bowl of fruit, get you incredibly high and then take you downstairs and go swimming.’ Other visitors Jackson remembered at musical jams around the house were David Crosby, whom he was meeting for the first time, and Stephen Stills. They were putting together a trio with Graham Nash.” - Rolling Stone, May 23, 1974

“We would catch a ride to Peter Tork’s house on Willow Glen. Peter had been a dishwasher at the Golden Bear in Huntington Beach and now he was a TV star, a Monkee. Sometimes you would walk in and there would be 12 girls in the pool, naked. One time Jimi Hendrix was up there jamming with Buddy Miles in the pool house, and Peter’s girlfriend [Reine Stewart] was playing the drums, naked.” - Jackson Browne, Los Angeles Times, June 1, 2003

“‘I don't mean to paint such a bleak picture of it,’ Tork said. ‘I still felt I was in the vanguard, along with a bunch of other people. I was pretty happy. I had a circle of friends, and it was a lot of fun. God knows, I went through a lot of scenes and found out what I needed to find out, which is, for instance, that orgies are nice, but they're only temporary and they're not fulfilling.’ Tork's infamous orgies were held at the Hollywood house he bought in 1968, previously the property of comedian Wally Cox. At the height of his fame, Tork could have paid for it in cash, but was advised against it. So he took out a huge loan and spent his money redecorating. In the master bedroom Tork's bed was eight feet by eight feet with a foam mattress six inches thick. He had a four-place bathtub put into the bathroom, along with a sauna. He had Mexican tiles laid. He carved his initials into the shower stall. There was red plush carpeting throughout the house, a wet bar in the foyer, six-by-nine-foot picture window in the living room overlooking the San Fernando Valley. The film room was a splendiferous workshop of sandblasted natural wood that housed Tork's resident filmmaker manqué. The screen covered the entire wall, offering a ten-by-twelve-foot platform for the flower of psychedelia's exploding visuals – viewed by exploding heads of all chemical persuasions, days on end. Just down the hall and across a bridge was another wing of the house. Downstairs was a cabana, leading to a fifty-foot pool. There were no houses behind his, so many people preferred to dive into the pool nude – straight out of his bathroom window. ‘I'd rather have nude swimming,’ reflected Tork; ‘it's much easier. There's a certain charge to bodies if they're covered up, and if you remove that, it takes a lot of that extra energy out of things.’

Originally, Tork brought a girl friend to live with him at the house. Then his filmmaker friend moved in. He was followed by a young woman and her son. Later a friend of his girl friend stayed there. When Tork quit the Monkees toward the end of 1968, his new group, Peter Tork and/or Release, moved in. Often, wandering downstairs of an early afternoon. Tork would come upon two or three strange bodies asleep in the walk-in fireplace. But that was all right. At the same time, it wasn't all right. ‘If you're fixed on the notion that an orgy is going to fulfill you, and one doesn't do it, you're going to try a hundred. If orgies don't do it, maybe drugs will. Like the fixated person I was then, I went from one thing to another. I had to try everything: flower power, dope, orgies, fast cars.’ His sternest nemesis was alcohol. ‘In the beginning drinking was a lot of fun,’ said Tork. ‘I have some memories of things that I did drunk that I never would have done sober, that I guess I always sort of wanted to do. But drinking isn't selective. It doesn't let you do exactly what you want to do and keep you from doing the things you don't want to do. Furthermore, at a certain point, and I think with certain personality types, it's addictive. You find you cannot drink moderately any longer. It finally reached a point with me where it was obvious that I was going to die if I kept up with it. I was never hospitalized, but I could see the path. I realized I was out of control.’” - When The Music Mattered (1984)

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