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sugrhigh · 4 months

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FIRST OF MANY - ( m.s )

REQUESTED**

summary- you and matt have been dating for over a month now, and you’ve never had sex. his curiosity gets the best of him while you’re watching a romcom, and you find out he’s actually a virgin.

warnings- swearing, virgin!matt, technically unprotected sex, smut at the end (lmk if i missed shit)

virgin!matt x fem!reader

a/n: this is my first req that i’ve ever done, so THANK U TO THE ANON WHO LEFT IT i hope it lives up to your expectations ❤️ if u have ideas drop them in my inbox ! all da love

there is literally nothing matt likes more than spending the night in with his girlfriend, as corny as it might sound. it’s been well over a month of dating now, and he still can’t get enough of you.

the warmth of your body is comforting as you lay beside him on the sofa, dressed down in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. he has one steady arm wrapped around your shoulder so he can hold you against his chest.

he breathes you in as his fingers skim absentmindedly up and down your exposed bicep, a familiar mixture of laundry detergent and citrus shampoo.

“that feels nice.” you mumble into his shirt, eyes still glued to the tv.

you’re forcing him to watch friends with benefits, since he picked the last movie and you were in dire need of a romcom fix. it’s one of your favorites, mainly because you loved mila kunis so much in that 70s show.

it’s only been on for roughly thirty minutes, but matt’s been enjoying it way more than he expected considering this genre is not his norm. he’s even let out a couple laughs at the scripted jokes.

the main characters are in bed together again, rolling around as they banter back and forth about sleeping with each other. it sparks a fire of curiosity inside of him as he continues to stare at the screen.

“is this really what it’s like?” he asks without thinking, and he immediately regrets his words as you tilt your head to look up at him curiously.

“what, the sex? don’t act like you don’t know.” you say, playfully smacking him with the back of your hand.

matt isn't sure why he brought it up, but he figures now is as good a time as any to have this dreadful conversation.

“how could i know if i’ve never done it?”

he feels you tense up slightly under his arm, which scares him. the last thing he wants you to think is that he’s some sort of loser. he just hadn’t found anyone that he really wanted to be intimate with before he met you.

it’s not like you guys don’t fool around sometimes. he’s perfectly capable of using both his hands and his mouth; this is a fact you’ve been made well aware of.

you two just haven’t gone all the way yet, especially considering you hardly ever get real alone time together.

“you don’t have to lie about the girls you’ve been with just because we’re dating now.” you finally respond, quieter than before.

“oh my god, i’m telling the truth, so please don’t make me say it again.” he can’t look at you anymore, because he’s too embarrassed.

this makes you fully sit up in shock, no longer focused on the premise of the film. he can feel you staring at the side of his beet red face, clearly confused by this revelation.

“wait, are you seriously telling me that you’re a virgin?” you question.

matt glances back at you and crosses his arms defensively, because it suddenly feels like he’s under attack. “you’re making me seem like a freak or something.”

he watches your eyes soften as you put a tentative hand on his shoulder, trying to let him know that you weren’t making fun of him.

“shit, i’m sorry, i swear i didn’t mean it like that. it’s just…really surprising, that’s all.”

“surprising how?”

you pull your lips between your teeth, exhaling through your nose as you try and find the right words.

“well we’ve done stuff before, and you were just naturally good at it, so i assumed you’d learned from hooking up with other people. and i know girls must have liked you with a face like that.”

this boosts his ego, and he’s already in a much better mood knowing he’s at least made you feel good in the past. that doesn’t mean he’s not still terrified, but he’s a little more confident than he was before.

“nope, not really. you’re the only one i’ve ever done that kind of thing with, aside from a little making out.” matt admits with a shrug.

your lips part, and it’s making you feel all fluttery.

“wow.”

he smiles a little bit. “i don’t know what that means.”

“it doesn’t mean anything really. i’ve only had sex a few times, and it doesn’t change anything either way.” you move your hand up and down his arm a little bit.

the tv plays in the background, and your mind flits to his original question.

“are you curious? is that why you asked?” you tilt you head toward the screen, though you keep your focus on him.

his eyes go a little wide, and the feeling of your hand on his arm suddenly becomes overwhelming.

“yeah, i—uh, i guess i am.” matt stumbles over his words, and your fingers travel higher to run through his hair slowly.

“you don’t have to be nervous. you can ask me anything you want, i’m not gonna judge.” you say softly.

your fingernails raking along his scalp makes him shudder slightly, a response that you both enjoy.

“i’m…more of a hands-on learner.” he rasps.

you let your fingers travel to rest on the back of his neck, drawing him in for a soft kiss. it’s short and sweet, and his eyelids flutter a bit as you pull away.

“what do you want to do?”

he pauses for a moment before deciding to give in and say what’s on his mind. “nick and chris aren’t home. maybe we should go to my room?”

you grin, nodding your head like you’re in a trance. you’re both trying to hide your giddiness as you scramble off of the couch, carelessly tossing the blankets aside.

you can feel him staring at your ass as you lead him through the hall, and he gives it a little smack of appreciation.

“matthew sturniolo!” you laugh, turning the doorknob to his bedroom.

it greets you warmly, and you always love it because the whole place smells like him. the overhead light is off; it’s just the singular lamp casting warm rays across the mattress.

“couldn’t help it.” he says, smile prominent in his tone as he locks the door behind you.

you slow to a stop at the foot of his bed, and he stands at your side, hand intertwined in yours. it makes your heart swell as he admires you with those charming eyes.

“are you sure? we really don’t have to, there’s no rush.” you squeeze his palm reassuringly.

matt lets go just so he can hold your head, kissing you hard as an answer. you literally can’t help but beam into his lips, and you put one hand on his chest to push him against his silk sheets.

he falls onto his back, propping himself up on his elbows so he can keep looking at you. you crawl on top of him, slowly settling on his hips.

he sucks in a shaky breath as you shift against him to get comfortable. you can feel matt growing harder beneath you as you lean down to give him another swift kiss, letting his mouth melt against yours.

then you move to his earlobe, pressing your lips to the hollow part of his neck. you swipe your tongue against his skin, biting down just a bit so you can suck on the area slightly.

he groans, laying down now so he can move his hands to grip your ass, pushing you against him harder to feel a little more friction. the thin material of your sweatpants doesn’t hide a whole lot, and he’s straining against you now.

“you’re so cute, baby.” you say against his skin, and his hands go to the bottom of your shirt, pulling it up over your hips.

you lift your hands from his chest so he can fully remove it, leaving you in your stretchy black bralette.

“god, you’re unreal.” he breathes, and you guide his palms to cup each of your breasts, still rocking against him slightly as you straddle him.

you can feel him squeeze your nipples between his middle and pointer fingers, whimpering below you as he starts to get worked up. you’re growing wet by the second, the delicious feeling of his clothed dick rubbing against you sending shocks of satisfaction right to your core.

“do you wanna keep going?” you ask, just to make sure he’s still on board.

“please.” he begs.

you move his shirt up his chest, and matt sits just high enough to rip it over his head. you trace the tattoos on his arm faintly, trailing a finger down the center of his stomach till you hit the waistline of his sweats.

“you’re terrifying.” he smiles as you slip your hand under the band of his boxers, slowly scratching the area gently.

“why?” you ask.

he grabs your waist and flips you so you’re the one on your back, feet hanging over the edge of the bed as he stands.

“because everything you do is perfect.” he says, and this time he’s the one that goes to your pants, grabbing the soft material and looking at you for permission.

“that is so not true.” you grin as you lift yourself up to help him.

he strips them off your legs and tosses them away blindly, so you’re left in your matching thong. the spandex-like material hugs your sides, the last layer standing between what you both truly want.

“i mean look at you.” he sounds dumbfounded as he gazes at your body, and you feel your face flush from the attention.

“trust me, i’m the one who’s punching.” you reply as he strips down to his boxers, dick clearly pressing against the plaid cloth. you’ve seen it before, on two occasions to be exact.

both of those experiences were great, and you didn’t know that was the first time a girl had ever given him head. now you know this is the first time he’s having sex, and even though it’s not the same for you, you’re still a bit nervous.

matt’s a little above average, and the last and only person you’ve ever done it with is your ex, so it’s been a minute. even so, you’re so enthralled with your boyfriend that you can’t help but pulse in excitement.

he pushes your legs apart with his palms, and air rushes across the wet spot that’s already formed over your panties. two fingers press against the fabric covering your heat, which shocks a gasp out of you. he moves them in a little circular pattern, applying more pressure so he can really feel you.

“love your fingers,” you rock with his pace, speaking through a moan, “but i wanna make you feel good too.”

“oh, okay. so i should…” he stops his motions to go for his own underwear, finally sliding them down so his hard length springs free.

you’re already working your own bottoms down your thighs, and he finishes the job for you once his hands are free.

“do you have a condom?”

“uh, shit…” you can tell by the solemn look that crosses his face that he doesn’t, and you let out a short laugh.

“it’s okay, it’s alright, i’m on birth control. we’ll be more prepared next time.”

his eyebrows shoot up before he can help it. next time. just the confirmation that this will happen again makes him disgustingly happy.

you wiggle up on the bed a little bit, so he has enough room to hover on top of you. he leans down a few more inches to give you a kiss, and you can tell he’s unsure what to do next, so you take control.

“don’t put it inside yet, just slide it against me a few times.” you try and instruct, and he follows well, dragging the base of his shaft up and down your wet cunt.

you let out a little noise of pleasure, and he wants to save it as a sound bite in his memory.

“okay, slowly, go ahead.” you say after a few more seconds spent enjoying the feeling, and both of you make sure he’s lined up properly.

matt looks you in the eye as he pushes inside, taking his time as you adjust bit by bit. he lets out a moan when he’s fully filling you up, shocked by how fucking amazing you feel.

you know he’s stretching you out, but the small pinpricks of pain subside as you get situated.

“you can start moving now, just keep it gentle at first.” you guide him, voice all choked up.

he nods, his long hair almost tickling your forehead as he starts to pump in and out at a leisurely pace. you’re both groaning messes, and your hands go to claw at his back as he keeps pace.

“fuck, you’re doing so well matt.” you mutter against his chest, pressing open-mouth kisses to his collarbone.

he’s getting into it now, finding a good rhythm and relaxing his hips slightly so he’s not as stiff. your bodies are molded together as you move back and forth, and matt can feel you clutching against his cock with each stroke.

“m’not gonna last much longer, angel.” he confesses, clumsily stumbling over his words as he tries to calm himself down, to keep it in just a bit longer.

“that’s okay, babe. tonight is all about you.”

he’s growing sloppier, and matt leans in to kiss you passionately as he gets closer and closer. surprisingly enough, you can feel the pressure building in your own stomach, and you’re both whining into each others mouths as your tongues mesh together.

“right there baby, i’m close too.” you breathe, and you can feel his body trembling against yours, one hand slipping underneath your bra so he can run his thumb over your nipple.

matt holds it all back, drilling into you as hard as he possibly can with the energy he has left. he loves the way you’re scratching at his back, pulling him as close as possible as you both reach your peak.

“i’m—fuck, oh my god.” he tenses up, and you feel him twitch inside of you as he comes undone.

his own reaction is what sends you over the edge, and you ease into the high, letting yourself finish all over him as he slows to a stop.

“yes, matt, holy shit.” you sigh, and he pulls out carefully moments later.

matt flops down beside you, rolling to press his lips to your cheek. you turn your head slightly to look at him, capturing his mouth with yours for another real kiss.

“i think i could get used to that.” he says with a small grin as he pulls away, and your ruffle his hair lightheartedly.

“lucky for you that was just the first time of many. so how was it?” you ask him.

he’s just opening his mouth when a loud pounding erupts on the door, and you both nearly jump out of your skin at the disturbance.

“hey! open the fucking door, we brought you guys mcdonald’s!” chris screams through the barrier.

you both look at each other, still grinning, and matt can’t help but roll his eyes.

“well, being alone was nice while it lasted.”

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #smut #fanfic #boyfriend

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teaberrii · 1 year

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Chapter Twenty-Nine: Our Happy Ending

Alhaitham has the looks and the smarts. He will also be the stand-in CEO for his grandfather's company for a year.

But, he's been mysteriously cursed to turn into a cat every night since his eighteenth birthday… until he meets you, an employee at his grandfather's company, who rescues him as a cat and changes him back with one kiss.

Alhaitham/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on AO3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

Chapter notes: Brief smut scene in this chapter

You can’t stop thinking about that kiss.

It’s been a few weeks since Zhongli’s wedding. You and Alhaitham have been casually texting, but neither of you brings up the kiss. It’s as if you’re treading through a grey area. Despite what's happened, your feelings toward Alhaitham haven't changed, but that’s only half the battle.

After Zhongli's wedding, you've been giving this a lot of thought. Throughout all of this, Alhaitham has been on your side. His mother is also taking full responsibility.

But no matter how you look at it, the stigma will always remain.

If you choose to be with Alhaitham, you'll be in a relationship with the son of the woman who left your father to die. That’s a fact that will never change. Can you live with that? You can. You have your reasons, but… What does your mother think about this?

Then, there’s Alhaitham.

Throughout your conversations, he hasn’t pressured or asked you to give him an answer. But you know you can’t leave him hanging for too long.

In addition to all that, today just hasn’t been your day.

You found out that Signora's script got chosen to get the biggest budget of the year. You know you can't win all the time, but it's still not a great feeling. So, even though yours didn't get chosen, you're taking it upon yourself to make changes and submit it again for production. This, of course, is on top of the other responsibilities you're assigned to.

You’re sitting at a desk in the company lounge when you overhear two women sitting at the table in front of yours.

“She was so pretty. They looked like a celebrity couple.”

"Alhaitham is like a celebrity, though." A small laugh. "He should try modelling as a side hustle."

This is something you've been hearing a lot amongst your colleagues. Apparently, Alhaitham has been seen with a “tall, beautiful woman.” It doesn’t take you long to figure out that the woman in question is Layla. While you don’t know the details, you know there’s a business venture happening between the company and hers, which explains why she and Alhaitham have been seen together.

“Hey.” It’s then you notice Childe sitting in front of you. As his mother’s condition has considerably improved, he’s back in Sumeru. “Took you long enough,” he jokes. He takes a peek at your laptop. “Whatcha workin' on?"

"Revisions for my script." You sigh. “Writer's block has never hit so hard,” you say as the women stand up and leave. You close your laptop screen. “It doesn’t help that my team got assigned to other projects. So… I’m pretty much on my own.”

“Well… maybe this will take your mind off things." A small pause. "It's about the curse."

“Did it change?”

Childe nods. “Things have started to improve with my parents, and I noticed that I’m changing a lot later.”

“...I guess our love theory was right."

“You think?" A small pause. "Maybe we’ll find out through you and Alhaitham,” Childe says. Your eyes meet his. “How’re things with him?”

“We’re talking." When you catch a suspicious look in Chlde’s eyes, you say, “Just talking. Nothing else.”

Childe slowly nods. “...Maybe he’s waiting for an answer after everything's over.” He smiles slightly. "Alhaitham's a good guy.” You smile back and nod. Then, he taps your closed laptop. “You said you’re making revisions to your script, right? Why not take inspiration from him?”

Before Childe came along, you have been thinking about how to add an extra… oomph to your story. You feel like something’s missing but you can’t put your finger on it. Childe’s question gets you thinking… Love in the Spotlight had been loosely inspired by your past relationship with Dottore. Who’s to say you can't work that magic again?

Suddenly, it hits you, and you quickly open your laptop. Childe looks from you to your screen as you start typing. Then, he smiles.

“My Boss is My Cat, huh? I like that title.”

You smile back. “You think? I’ll have to rework a lot of it, but… the ideas are already flowing.”

Childe chuckles. “I know it’ll be a hit.”

◆◆◆

It starts as a business meeting but turns a little personal toward the end. Alhaitham and Layla aren’t surprised. They are friends after all.

“By the way… how did the dinner go?” Layla asks.

Ah. Right. His mother had tried to get Layla involved. So, Alhaitham gives her an update but skims the details, only telling her what’s needed to understand the big picture.

“I see… So, you two are still on a break?”

Yes? No? Alhaitham doesn't have a clear answer. There's texting happening, but nothing concrete to show you two are officially together again. Yes, there's the kiss, but that happened because of an emotional high. It shouldn't be trusted... even though it was the best kiss he's ever had.

“We’re talking,” he says.

Layla nods. “Well, I think that's a good sign. I’d usually say why not try to woo her again, but that’d be risky.”

Alhaitham knows you still need space. But, how long can he keep waiting?

“Hey.” Alhaitham looks across the table and sees Layla giving him a small smile. “It’s good you’re thinking about her feelings, but don’t forget to think about yourself.”

Alhaitham’s phone buzzes with a message just as Layla gets a call. She answers hers while he opens the message from Kaveh.

Drinks tonight?

Well, why not?

“I have to run,” Layla says, after getting off her call. “If it’s any reassurance, I know you two will be fine.”

She gives Alhaitham a friendly hug before she leaves. Then, his phone buzzes again.

Should we invite Catnip?

Catnip?

When Alhaitham leaves the restaurant, he gives Kaveh a call.

“‘Sup, Junior?”

“Who are you talking about?”

Kaveh laughs. “Oh, you mean Catnip? I’m talking about Sis, of course. You did say she’s your catnip, didn’t you? I think it’s a cute nickname.” Alhaitham sighs. “...Wait. Have you two not made up yet?”

“There are still things we have to talk about.”

"I think I get it." A small pause. "Is it something like... What's her new stance on your mother? Will she ask you to cut ties with her so you two can be together? Am I right?"

“...It’s not just about my mother. If we date again, I… have no idea what her mother might say.”

“Dude, you’re like the dream son-in-law that every mother wants.” Kaveh sighs. “But, geez. You’re giving this a lot of thought. I get it, though. You’re serious about her.”

“...I always have been.”

Kaveh smiles. “So, let’s get together tonight and take a little breather. You deserve it.”

◆◆◆

Your manager looks at your laptop screen and reads the title.

“My Boss is My Cat. An interesting title.” Then, he looks up at you. “You want to do a rewrite?”

"I know the leadership team has already decided on Signora's script. This is just a personal project I want to send for review and see if I can get it produced."

“You’d be doing a lot of extra work.”

“I understand, but”—you look at your laptop screen—“I really want to see this through.”

Your manager smiles. “Well, who am I to stop you?”

“Really?”

“As long as it doesn’t interfere with your other responsibilities. You get the green light.”

“Thank you!”

Then, you pick up your laptop and hurry out of your manager’s office.

After finishing your work responsibilities for the day, you spend the rest of your time planning and writing this new script which makes you lose track of time.

Before you know it, you're the only one left in the office. You stop typing and stretch just as your phone rings.

“Hey, Mom,” you say.

“Where are you? It’s late!”

You look at the time on your laptop. “Sorry. I got caught up with some things at work.”

“Don’t tell me you’re planning on sleeping over there?” she jokes. “Or… are you going back to your place?”

Despite you and Alhaitham being on friendly terms, you're still staying at your mother's place. You spin your chair around and look out at the beautiful night scenery.

“...Hey, Mom. Can I… ask you something?”

“Of course, honey.”

“...What do you think of me dating Alhaitham?”

A small pause.

"I had a feeling you'd ask eventually," your mother says. "...I want to hear your thoughts. You're asking me this because you want to continue your relationship with him, right?"

“I do.”

You’re a little surprised at how naturally you said it.

“...But, would it be disrespectful to Dad?” you ask quietly. “I’d be dating the son of the woman who really shouldn’t deserve forgiveness.”

“...Under regular circumstances, I would be opposed to it,” your mother says, leaning against the kitchen counter. “I’m not saying this because I’m on his side, but he did do a lot for us. Let me give you an update.”

Then, your mother tells you they've decided to settle this out of court. But that doesn't mean his mother will avoid wrongdoing. She will compensate the full amount and abide by the punishment given to her by law.

“I won’t be able to forgive his mother, but I don't want to harbour any resentment towards her,” your mother finishes. "I am not opposed to you dating him." You feel a weight lift off your shoulders. “It really depends on you.”

“I… guess I’m a little afraid.” Then, you tell her about your nightmares. “I know I shouldn’t care about what other people say. But sometimes… I can’t help but think what they will say about me or Alhaitham if they find out.” You sigh. “It’s silly.”

“It’s not silly at all, honey. As much as we all say we don’t care about other people’s opinions, we all care to some extent. Some more than others.”

You smile. “But, you know, I just realized something.”

“What’s that?”

“You, Lumine, and Aether are the only opinions I should care about.”

Your mother smiles. “...Perhaps it’s fate that brought you and Alhaitham together, so we can finally have closure.”

The conversation takes a lighter turn when you tell your mother about what you've been working on. Of course, she’s super supportive, which gives you a heightened motivation to finish this personal project.

It's past dinnertime when you get off the call with your mother. After turning off the lights, you head towards the elevator when your phone rings. This time, it's from someone unexpected.

“Sis! Are you home?”

“I’m going to be,” you say. “What’s wrong?”

“Erm, well, Haitham had too much to drink, and I thought he would have hangover pills or something… but”—Kaveh sighs—“the guy's empty.”

“...Are you the one who got him addicted to catnip?”

“What! How can you think that it's me?”

A small pause.

“Okay. I gave it to him once and he… liked it. I swear I tried to stop him.”

You sigh. “Is he okay? I’ll pick up something on my way back.”

Kaveh smiles. “Really? You’d do that for someone who's just a friend?”

“I’ll be right over," you deadpan.

Back at Alhaitham’s apartment, Kaveh slips his phone inside his pocket and looks at his friend who’s sitting on the sofa with a small frown.

“This is your chance, Junior. Don’t waste it.”

“Did you really have to lie?”

"Well, she won't rush over if you're all fine and dandy. So, at least try to look like you're half-dead when she gets here." Alhaitham sighs, and Kaveh smiles. "It's time to make your acting debut."

By the time you reach Alhaitham’s apartment, it’s already late evening. As soon as you knock, Kaveh opens the door.

“Hey, Catnip!”

“...What did you just call me?”

Kaveh laughs. “It’s a cute nickname, don’t you think?”

“Sure." You look around. "Where’s Haitham?”

“In his room.”

As soon as you get there, you see Alhaitham as a cat curled up on top of the sheets. Then, you turn to Kaveh.

“...He looks fine.”

“That’s 'cause he’s a cat. He was dying earlier. Trust me.”

You look at the pills and other hangover-related medication in the bag you’re holding. “Well, I don’t think he can take these right now.”

You hear a soft meow. When you turn, you see Alhaitham struggling to get up. It's not until you're at his side that he immediately walks onto your lap.

“Well, he’s all yours! Good luck.”

Before you can say anything else, Kaveh is out the door.

You look down at Alhaitham who’s lying on his back, his belly facing upwards. His face looks as if he’s in pain, and you gently rub his fluffy belly.

“Let me get you some water.”

You’re about to get off the bed when Alhaitham suddenly gets up, stands on his hind legs, and pushes you down. What just happened? Alhaitham is on top of you, his front paws above your breasts as you stare at each other.

Alhaitham meows again, and you’re wondering if he wants you to kiss him. Well, you can, but certainly not in this position. You pick him up, sit upright, and lean against the wall. You smile as you hold him in front of you.

“Looks like someone’s fine.”

Alhaitham looks down but quickly looks back and groans softly as if in pain.

“You should probably take some acting lessons from Ayato.”

Alhaitham gives you a deadpan look which makes you laugh.

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

His ears droop and you gently tap his nose. Then, you bend your legs and put him belly-up on your legs.

“...I talked to my mom about us.”

Alhaitham’s ears slowly move back up. You’re slightly blushing, so his tail sweeps upwards. Can this mean what Alhaitham thinks it means…?

“I want to be with you, Haitham,” you say, and his little kitty heart has never raced so fast. “...But, I won’t be able to forgive what your mother did. No matter what.” You smile slightly. “I’m not going to ask you to pick between us. I know you still care about her, obviously. But after everything that’s happened, I still want to be with you.”

Alhaitham leans forward, his paws landing on your collarbone. Then, he kisses your nose…

Your eyes widen when a hand is suddenly beside your head. Alhaitham is staring at you, his eyes just as wide as reality sinks in. He has you cornered against the wall. What just happened?

But before you can even contemplate, Alhaitham kisses you full on the mouth. You can taste the wine on his lips as your hands go around his neck. He nips your top lip, caressing it before moving to the bottom. The cold chill you feel against your back is in glaring contrast to the hot, demanding heat pulling you closer… and closer…

Your hand is on his chest but soon becomes entangled with Alhaitham’s. He holds your hand tightly, your bodies flush against one another. Your pulse is thundering as one kiss after another communicates more passion and longing than words ever can.

When Alhaitham finally pulls away, his expression is sincere and intense.

“I love you,” he says.

You immediately kiss him again but only for a moment. You gently nip his lips as you pull back.

“I love you, too.”

His expression turns slightly worried. “...But, what does your mother think?”

“She’s okay with us dating.” You smile. “...I already talked to her.” Then, you push him down, your hand running down his torso. “Did you and Kaveh trick me here?"

“...That’s—”

You kiss him, and you feel his hand in your hair, pulling you closer. Your hand travels lower, and you break the kiss just in time to hear a soft moan when you gently stroke his hardening sex.

Then, you lean forward and whisper, “...Someone deserves to be punished.”

It doesn’t take long for your teasing to reduce him to a panting mess who’s dying to touch you as you ride him deep and hard. Your hands are on top of his, pinning them to the bed. Alhaitham shuts his eyes as he relishes in the pleasure only you can give him. When you suddenly stop, he opens his eyes and sees you tug at one of your hardened nipples with a slightly teasing smile.

Alhaitham immediately sits up, your legs naturally going to either side of his waist. Then, he grabs your hips and pins you to the bed with his body. Your legs are dangling on either side of him, your face flushed.

“...It’s my turn.”

His hips slowly rock into you, allowing you to feel every inch of his hardened sex. And, slowly, as he picks up the pace, he grabs your knees and spreads your legs even wider. When he hears that loud, satisfied moan from your lips, he pins your hands to the bed and leans over and kisses you. Coupled with how he’s angling his hips to drive himself deeper into you, you soon shudder violently with unwilling pleasure.

Alhaitham’s muscles become taut as the sensation builds… builds… and builds until he lets out a short but satisfied cry. With just enough strength to prevent himself from falling on top of you, he brushes some of your hair out of your face.

“...I could do that again,” you joke.

Alhaitham leans upright and pulls you up. Your arms go around his neck. “...Who am I to refuse such a request?”

◆◆◆

The following morning, you wake up in Alhaitham's bed to a delicious scent. As he isn't beside you, you have a feeling that he's already in the kitchen making breakfast. You put on your clothes and head to the washroom. Once you enter the living room, you see Alhaitham putting two plates on the table.

He smiles. “Morning, love.”

“Ooh, what are we having this morning?” you ask, sitting down.

“The Alhaitham special,” he answers, kissing your head.

You laugh. "The what?" Then, he puts a round plate in the middle of the table. It looks like pizza as it's round with meat and vegetables on top. You take a piece and bite into it. Your eyes widen in surprise. "Oh, wow. Not bad."

“...It’s what my Dad used to make,” Alhaitham says, sitting on the opposite side of you. Before you can ask, he continues, “I finally got in touch with him.”

“Really?”

“It was when we were taking time apart. My grandfather was the one who found him.”

“...Did your father tell you anything about the divorce?”

“...I never thought I’d get to talk to you again, Haitham. Does your mother know about this?”

“She does,” Alhaitham answered. “A lot of things have happened… and I think she finally came to her senses.”

“It’s hard to imagine she changed.”

“What happened between you and Mom?”

“She didn’t tell you?”

“...She was very vague,” Alhaitham said.

His father sighed. “...Your mother became obsessed with her career. When she got a promotion, she was already thinking about the next one. I found it admirable at first, but she started using questionable methods to get there.”

“...Questionable methods? Like what?”

“She would use people. And, after getting what she wants, she tossed them aside. I… made a suggestion to her one day, but when things didn’t go as planned, she changed entirely.”

“...What happened?”

“One of her colleagues stole her work. It was a market research report that your mother had been working on for a couple of months. Their company hired someone new after one of her colleagues left. Your mother was a top performer, so”—he sighed—“I suggested she let that new colleague take a look at her report so he can learn from her."

“And that person stole it?”

“...That’s right. He handed it in as his own. I think that was when our relationship really spiralled downwards”

“...Does your mom know that you know about this?” you ask.

“She knows I talked to him, but she didn’t ask about the details. Perhaps she doesn’t want to deal with the past anymore.”

A small pause.

“...I have to say,” you begin, and Alhaitham looks at you. “Your mother may have been trying to protect herself, but selfishness can only go so far before it comes back to bite you.”

“...That’s true. It’s a lesson she learned the hard way.”

And you hope she’ll never forget it.

…

Two years later

“Do you ever miss being a cat?” Childe asks.

You, Alhaitham, and Childe are having lunch together at Lambad’s Tavern on a sunny afternoon.

That’s a question Alhaitham never thought he’d have to answer. But… it has finally happened. Ever since you and Alhaitham officially got back together, he has never turned back into a cat.

“What about you?” you ask Childe.

As Childe's relationship with his parents got progressively better, his cat transformation also began to die. Now that more of his scripts are getting approved for production, Childe hasn't transformed for nearly a month.

“There’s not really a lot of perks to being a cat,” Childe says. “The only perk would be cuddles with Lumine.”

You give him a slight deadpan look, and he smiles.

Then, you hear Ayato’s voice.

The three of you turn to the TV and see him and his female co-star talking to a journalist.

“He’s been really busy nowadays,” Alhaitham says.

Childe looks at you. “We have you to blame for that."

It’s been almost two years since you officially finished the script for My Boss is My Cat. You’ve worked on it tirelessly, but you had a great support system. After telling Alhaitham that it was loosely based on your relationship with him, he gave you a kiss and said that it would be an absolute hit.

Well, he wasn’t entirely wrong.

You may not have won Best Screenwriter for the effort you put into My Boss is My Cat, but you’re still proud that the company liked it enough to produce it. In the end, Ayato got cast as the male lead and was in the running for a few awards.

The last time you and The Strays talked to him, Ayato said that his transformation was also wearing off. But it was when he was nominated that he noticed that he hasn’t been transforming during his kiss scenes. You still remember the small smile he had when he said he never thought he’d be wishing to transform into a cat.

“Well, what can I say?” you ask with a small smile. “Everyone likes a good cat story.”

“Maybe I should write one, too,” Childe jokes. Then, he looks at you and Alhaitham. “By the way, aren’t you two moving in together?”

You and Alhaitham look at each other and smile. That’s right. You and Alhaitham are moving in together. After Alhaitham’s temporary tenure as CEO, he went on to pursue a higher position than before at Akademiya. And since he’s no longer your boss, your relationship is no longer a secret. What’s more convenient is now that Lumine got a new job as a character designer for a gaming company, she’s looking for a new place. Yours just happen to be free and closer to her company.

“...So, don’t tell me it’s just going to be the two of you,” Childe continues.

“Someone’s nosy,” Alhaitham says, half-jokingly.

“Aw, man, I just want to know if there’s like… I don’t know! A wedding or something!”

You and Alhaitham look at each other again. Then, you look at Childe. “When the time is right, it’ll happen naturally.”

Childe sighs. “So, I guess I won’t be a Godfather anytime soon.” When Childe catches a knowing look between you and Alhaitham, he gasps. “Wait, don’t tell me you’re…”

"No," you say. "But... I wouldn't say we're completely child-free."

Childe looks from you to Alhaitham. “What is this supposed to mean? I need an explanation!”

◆◆◆

Later that weekend, you and Alhaitham invite Lumine and Childe over for lunch. As soon as Alhaitham opens the door, your newly adopted kitten slowly gets up from his cat bed and walks over.

“He’s so cute!” Lumine gushes as she crouches. She extends her arms and the kitten walks closer so she can pick him up. "What did you name him?"

“When we adopted him, the person says he responds to the name Kazuha,” you say.

“Kazuha?” Childe asks. “Why Kazuha?”

“Not sure. It was the name that was in the box they found him in."

“How could anyone abandon a poor, innocent animal like that?” Lumine huffs, standing up with Kazuha in her arms.

Childe walks over and leans close to the cat who stares at him. “Is it just me or is he kinda quiet?”

You laugh. “You have no idea how much he tried to attack Haitham’s hair.”

“His hair?”

You point to the strand of hair that’s sticking out from the top of Alhaitham’s head.

“Glad it’s still in one piece,” Childe says with a smile.

"And I hope it stays that way," Alhaitham says.

Kazuha hops out of Lumine's arms and onto the couch. "Wouldn't it be funny if Kazuha isn't actually a cat?" she jokes.

You and Alhaitham glance at each other. "What makes you say that?" he asks.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I just thought it would be funny if you happened to adopt a cat who’s also afflicted with the curse.”

“Surely we would’ve noticed a stranger in the house," you say. "We adopted him a while ago."

Lumine chuckles. “Yeah, that’s true.”

Then, your sister and Childe head to the kitchen to grab drinks. You and Alhaitham are about to follow them when you hear a soft meow. Both of you stop and turn around. After Kazuha cleans his face with his paw, he looks at you and Alhaitham and winks.

You've heard of cats winking, so this shouldn't be anything unusual. Right? You and Alhaitham glance at each other.

...Right?

End Notes:

...FIN.

You and Haitham are now proud parents of cat Kazuha who may or may not be... the real Kazuha. XD.

Will there be a sequel of you and Haitham raising Kazuha? ...Erm, probably not.

BUT

There might be a separate spin-off cat Kazuha story in the future. I already have an idea for it. Of course, the pairing will be You/Kazuha but the "you" in that story will obviously not be the same one here. It'll be a separate story with mentions/references to this one.

It still hasn't hit me that MBIMC is over. But you and Alhaitham's story has ended. When I started this story three or so months ago, I never thought it would get this many views. So, thank you for all the love and support <3

And now... I can finally start on the fic that's been plaguing me for months LOL. Any Honkai Star Rail readers here? :> You may see me pop up in that fandom soon...

But until then, TAKE CARE <3

Tag list: @suoshiii @lordbugs @lxry-chxn @seirenspinel @sakiimeo @ash-in-lavender @ceylestia @forsh4dow @deathkat657 @kalpie @elernity @sentieence @chichibleeps @sunsethw4 @hjjks @tanspostsblog @nqctre @just-simping-over-genshin @uchihaeirin @vynbin @ayanokomu @dksfl920 @rin1802 @itztaki @thetwinkims @imkaaayy @angeilix @starlighttotheleft @letthewindlead @certaindreampost @winterpein @theprinceofkhaos @warrior-of-justice @vvyeislazzy @n8mareee

#alhaitham x you #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham smut #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham x yn #genshin al haitham #al haitham x reader #al haitham fluff #al haitham x y/n #al haitham #genshin alhaitham

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idiototheinternet · 6 months

Text

Infodump about the ideas for the highschool idol au

So. Character info.

Cross: His dad is the principal (but they aren't on such bad terms, they just don't get along the best), he lives on campus with Ink (this is kinda a private school situation, you live in the dorms, but the uniform isn't really enforced by anyone but the actual principal, and it's usually just a stern warning.) and he may have some gender dysphoria, because I enjoy jumping on the bandwagon of using Cross as a punching bag. He wears the uniform pretty consistently, with a gold locket under the tie. He does always insist on wearing red Chuck Taylors all the time, which is the only pop of color on him other than the red scar on his cheek he got from falling down a hill as a kid. He was forcibly added to the band as secondary vocals and drums

Killer: Chaotic, loud, and possessing some godforsaken mix between a Cockney and a Boston accent that sounds surprisingly good when used to sing, he's the epitome of everything Cross isn't. He enjoys ghibli movies, my melody, and cats, but also feels like a bolt of lightning. When he actually wears the uniform, it's usually with a signature studded leather jacket with pins in it. he never takes the jacket off. if he isn't wearing the school uniform, it's usually a shirt with Kel holding an orange joe or a cat hoodie under the jacket. His voice and outgoing nature got him the spot as the lead vocals and guitar.

Horror: He doesn't speak much, but when he does, it's slow, and full of thought. He likes to make food for people, and one of the first things he said to Dust was "Do you like pie." (much slower, but you get my point.) He never really wears the uniform, and everyone is fine with that, i don't think he's even met the principal. The best bear hugs in the school come from him. He plays bass.

Dust: He speaks snarkily to combat Killer, or to help Nightmare talk him out of a terrible plan to get that one guy finger drumming and mouthing the words to Fine to come and play. He wears the uniform sometimes, but always finds something to make it different, never removing his scarf.

Nightmare: He writes the lyrics to all the songs they sing, and drills everyone on the lyrics matching the beat exactly. EMO B- He always insists on visiting this one coffee shop, and always either wears casual wear or a full suit like

And high heels. He's hot and he knows it.

Error: Works on audio editing, and seems to be getting gradually more interested in theater. if you think he wears anything but his pajamas, you're wrong. Bro learned how to code a free no download version of FL studio, but won't do his math homework.

Ink: Ultimate art and theater kid, does everything, always covered in paint. how does he manage this. Pretty good grades, and he can sing well, but he usually keeps his singing to himself and this one guy who used to go to school with him.

Dream: Writes scripts, and plays smaller character parts, very gay for blue. That's all I can really say without having a whole ass essay.

Blue: Builds the sets for plays, and finds ways to get the school budget large enough to get all the materials for the plays.

Ccino(I'm just gonna refer to him as coffee guy until nightmare actually learns his name): works at the only good campus food store/cafe, and makes, and I quote "The only black coffee that you can actually enjoy"-Noot noot joku, 2023(/24, Idk when he'll say that.)

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faustiandevil · 7 months

Text

Depression makes a man do stupid things and here is what I did. Peter Lorre tier list, all movies (well the ones that were available online and in a language I could understand), all characters ranked in a highly scientific way. Feel free to defend your blorbos, but know this I’m right, you’re wrong, SHUDDUP!! (This is a reference I hope y’all get, but in any case do feel free to defend your blorbos I wanna hear y’alls takes.)

My reasonings under the cut. Enter, but be warned it truly is my twisted sick mind down there. If you scroll down long enough to see the Shining reference, I love you.

Bildreporter Johnny (F.P.1 antwortet nicht): No, no, no, no, no, no! Highly unfuckable look! Why does he look like an old man and a baby at the same time??? I can’t do this!!

Mr. Kentaro Moto (Mr. Moto Series): Racism. I’m sorry, I can’t. Absolutely hate it. Shit tier. Same goes with the movies. I only really liked Mr. Moto’s Gamble, which I found out was actually a Charlie Chan script asdfghjkl

Stephen Danel (Island of Doomed Men): Slave owner. Killed a monkey. Was kind of okay with his wife tho, until the end, I guess they needed a reason to off him.

Roderick Raskolnikov (Crime and Punishment): I’m putting him down on the list, because I read Crime and Punishment and the movie is way too ‘Murican. Already the names were bastardized and as someone who loves Russian literature I just can’t deal with that shit. He was okay, but ehhh… (The 1970 movie is way better, and Taratorkin is the best Rashkolnikov, fucking fight me.)

Nikolai Zaleshoff (Background to Danger): Again, butchering Russian names. Not even a patronymic. Kind of a caricature as well with all of the vodka drinking. And again he gets shot and for what??

Sergeant Berger (The Cross of Lorraine): I’m stronger. I will resist. The scene where he blows the cigarette smoke into the guy’s face and kicks him does things to me. I will admit. But that man is a nazi and I cannot in good consciousness put him anywhere else, but shit tier.

Captain Chang (They Met in Bombay): Glark Cable tolerable?? In my movie?? More likely than you think. Did not like the racism again. The beard is nice, so he goes slightly higher than shit tier.

Baron Ikito (Invisible Agent): He gets put in a slightly higher tier than shit tier only, because of the last line in the movie that made me very very gay. “I can make an honorable man out of you” like you can’t make him say shit like that I’m already a weak little homosexual!!

Hilary Cummins (The Beast With Five Fingers): This may be a surprise, but listen, hear me out, I have reasons. I cannot deal with an Astrology bitch. Like, yeah I also like to read my horrorscope every now and then, and I’m a Satanist, but I don’t vibe with that shit, he is too obsessed. Not every gay is gonna be into Asstrology. Also I cannot moan the name Hilary while giving this man dick without thinking of the Clinton woman. Also Cummins??? That’s an OnlyEnemies name. PS. The movie was bad when the hand turned out to be fake.

Julius O’Hara (Beat The Devil): Oh, no I’m not vibing with the hair again. I’m not into it. Loved his bullshitting, even if he is not very good at lying.

Conseil (20,000 Leagues Under the Sea): Liked seeing him together with my rich successful uncle Lukács, and had some nice fits in the movie, but it’s only slightly above shit tier. Saw tentacles, but got nothing. Absolutely disappointed.

Ahmed (Five Weeks in a Balloon): Racism again. Love his rainbow colored pants. The fez does nothing for me. Because of the earring he gets put higher than shit tier.

Pawlitschek (Bomben Auf Monte Carlo): He’s cute. He knows how to cook. Its fucking goulash of course, but ugggh fine I’ll eat it. Look I love you I’ll eat it. Fucking tourist food that no self-respecting Hungarian is going to touch. It’s just fucking soup.

Otto Fuesslli (What Women Dream Of): He is adorable. Clearly faking that piano play, but he sings like an angle. Docking points for being a cop tho. I’m sorry, but in this house we ain’t fucking cops.

Maj. Sigfried Gruning (Lancer Spy): Okay, I’m conflicted. Not sold on the hair, or the mustache, but I’m a military man, I love a uniform, he has a sword. (Babygirl you wanna see my sword~?) Uhhh… he also doesn’t do much in the movie.

Louis ‘The Dope’ Monteau (I’ll Give a Million): Adowable. A dumb baby. And that is why he only gets put in mid tier. Too cute for my taste. Still good for him and all the other poor homeless guys for pulling off the scam of the century on the rich bastards. Respect.

Polo (I Was An Adventuress): Same problem with Louis. He has too much boi energy. Every time I see that image where he looks up with them big ol’ eyes all I can think about is that meme the “Bitch use your words I don’t speak bottom”.

The Stranger (The Stranger on The Third Floor): Okay… uhm… this is a though one… There’s not much info on The Stranger, we don’t even know his name, we only know that he is mentally ill and killed a man. We all have our faults. I mean in this day and age who isn’t mentally ill and killed at least one person. So… mid tier. Like his scarf tho.

Paul Hyde (Mr. District Attorney): The way he got shot was bullshit. What the fuck was that about?? I hardly even remember this movie.

Joel Cairo (The Maltese Falcon): Okay… I gotta confess… I fucking hate the Maltese Falcon. There I said it. It just rubs me the wrong way that in book context and Hays code movie context Joel is gay and gets beaten up the most. Like finally a highly canon gay one for me and I get this home of phobia. Fuck this. Also I do not like Bogart and I think this movie started it lol.

Pepi (All Through the Night): I’mma get shit for this. But… but… hear me out… sometimes a man thinks with his dick and not with his brain. This is one of them. When he shows up at the bar, dressed up all nice, smoking his little cigarette… I’m weak. And yes I know he is a nazi, but I could fix him. I could fuck the fascism out of him. If not… well… //cocks gun// Mid tier, because I can’t put him higher than that. If not for the fascism he would be A tier.

Jan Bernazsky (The Conspirators): I remember nothing from this movie. I think he was a red herring. He goes in mid.

Slimane (Casbah): Casablanca the musical. Getting very gay vibes from Slimane. Why are you a detective? To catch other men. To hold them close after you shoot them. Wow faggy. Anyway, a bit conflicted and had to dock points, because again cop.

Toady (Rope of Sand): I only watched this movie, because Claude Rains is the same height as me and I was hoping to see them stand next to each other, so I can visualize the height difference. Got a very nice homosexual cig lit scene from it. I have no recollection of the movie besides that scene, but he looks fine.

Japanese Steward on the S.S. Carnatic (Around the World in Eighty Days): I can’t fuck a man on a boat I’ll get sea sick.

Kurt Bergner (The Buster Keaton Story): Were you channeling some other asshole director from your life? You looked like you knew what you were doing? Anyway, would fuck just so I could get my start in the movie industry, but this relationship ain’t gonna last longer than a headline.

Brankov (Silk Stockings): Glorious Technicolor~ I have issues with this movie. It’s the inferior Ninotchka. The Russian names are once again butchered. The dancing is nice. Go white boy, fuck up the dance floor!! Nothing else to say about it really.

Abdul (The Sad Sack): Mon petite~! If I justified Pepi being in mid-tier, I can do the same for Abdul. He was eager to kill Jerry Lewis’ character and I think the movie would have benefited from it. Still he can’t go higher, because of the… ehh… Hollywood racism. He would be top fucking tier otherwise.

Skeeter (The Big Circus): Not into clowns. (A contradictory statement. If you know you know.)

Montresor (Tales of Terror): I’m in a predicament, because I’m a cat lover and this man was mean to a cat. He is very hot tho. Sorry, babes, but you gotta go into the mid rankings. Also fix your alcohol problem, I cannot let Freud win.

Hans Beckert (M): Okay, this is going to be controversial putting the child murderer so high up on the list, but consider this. He is so pathetic when he gets thrown down the stairs that I just can’t not fuck him. I’m also willing to look past that besides murder he also probably did other things too (yeah that’s a bit harder to get past eugh…). The murder I’m fine with tho. I’m very often locked in a train car with screaming children and I mean that would make anyone start whistling the tune of Edvard Grieg’s In the Hall of the Mountain King. My dick could fix him, but if he wants to murder a child every now and then. I’m all for it.

Redakteur Stix (Die Koffer des Herrn O.F.): This man fucks. And I do mean HE fucks. Polo and Louis wish they were like Stix. He goes into A tier for terrorizing a whole town, getting laid, and getting the girl. Would you like to get the boy as well, hun~?

The General (Secret Agent): This look is absolute horrid… I fucking love it. For someone who is known to be a mustache lover I don’t ever want to see Peter with one. (I’m the one who wears the mustaches in this relationship.) This is an exception tho. It’s a gay disaster look. It’s so bad it’s hot. Extra points for the earring. (The ending to that movie was absolute bullshit tho. General your gun!!)

Prof. Sturm (Nancy Steele Is Missing!): I love it when he is a manipulative little bastard. Also he could have gotten away with it if it weren’t for someone having morals and loving his stolen adoptive child. Absolutely disgusting. The mustache and the glasses combo are acceptable (even if he looks like one of my high school teachers).

M’sieu Pig (Strange Cargo): The other incel. I’m docking points, because for most of the movie I had to watch Clark Gable be a misogynist and I already hate him. All this just to eyeball Peter Lorre… Anyway I would make that piggy squeal. A tier, but only because he shows off a bit of chest hair.

Fenninger (You’ll Find Out): Not particularly fond of this look. I like it better when his hair is a bit messy. Is one third of an evil gay polycule, so points to that. And also the long cig holder. Very gay, hun. And who can forget the og teeth. Would still drag my tongue across those chompers I don’t care what anyone says. (Mainly, because I also have similar fucked up looking messy teeth.)

Signor Ugarte (Casablanca): I’m putting him only in A tier, because he killed nazis at the start of the movie and is a desperate little homo, which is a trait I very much relate to. But Bogart… really… honey you could do so much better. Seriously y’all look me in the eye and tell me that Bogart is hot, when he plays these asshole characters. I’ll wait. Besides I’m right here. I’m ready to top you babe.

Marius (Passage To Marseilles): Love a man who is honest and proud of his professional achievements. And is very much good with his hands hello~ Dies (seriously why???) while fighting nazis. A bit of a scraggly look, but I love it. I also had to look up pics for this and turtlenecks make any man look slutty… and sir… your tits!! I need to feel them through the fabric~ Or just in general~

Dr. Einstein (Arsenic and Old Lace): He is a cute pathetic little meow meow. I want to (the following sentence had to be censored due to violating the Hays code). I am putting him only in A tier, because he is too popular, but I feel like that’s a personal bias.

Johannes Koenig (Hotel Berlin): Again a nice scraggly look. I love it~ He does get his shit together by the end and that’s good, but I wish he’d kept the five o’clock.

Contreras (Confidential Agent): I love a man who hates his job. So relatable. He does a big no no with being a sellout to the fascists, but he gets his just desserts and surprising doesn’t die from a gun, but a heart attack (and they pull a Weekend at Bernie’s with his corpse later on). He is really pathetic and I cannot control myself.

Johnny West (Three Strangers): //heavy breathing// I want him!! Finally a romantic role!! Babygirl yes!! I know you could do it!! If only you also took the money!!!!!!!!! For that last one he goes into A tier and not higher.

Gino (The Chase): Show off more of that chest hair, slut!! I would also not let this man drive (not that I can either). Besides babes the backseat has more space~

Nick (Quicksand): Blackmailing is fun when it’s not happening to you~ Also if we get together I could probably play the games for free. That’s a plus.

Paynter (Double Confession): This man was so desperate for approval. And y’all cannot tell me that he and Charlie weren’t a bit more than friends. Oh a man saves you and now you would do murders for him (except he’s a loser and is not okay with murder). Babe ditch him I would let you kill people for me. I’m not a pussy.

Dr. Karl Rothe/Dr. Karl Neumeister (The Lost One): Babygirl you have some deep rooted psychological issues that you should get checked out. Still, here’s my number. Call me, when you feel like choking me out, but not in a killing way. (Or maybe in a killing way, depends on how I feel.)

Colonel John Miguel Orlando Arragas (Congo Crossing): The straights looked at each other once and immediately kissed, so that set the tone for me. Anyway he is a cop, but he does do the right thing at the end, but still a cop. The uniform is nice. Doesn’t like his job much, so that’s kind of sexy. Eh, you know, what A tier. He is the exception. (I do hope he doesn’t expect me to say his entire name while I’m d(HAYS CODE) him down and making him swallow my (HAYS CODE).)

Nero (The Story of Mankind): Listen, I have some kinks… if you read my writings you know… I’m also drawn to a man with power, and money, and insanity. (I’m also really glad he didn’t have the chin beard like the real Nero, because that’s a deal breaker.)

Smiley (Scent of Mystery): Absolutely disappointed that this movie didn’t have a Dora the Explorer segment where the characters turn to the screen and ask the viewer if they can guess the mystery scent. Anyway hot. I love a man who knows how to be crafty regarding his job. Cheating, stealing, lying, all traits that make a honest Hungarian. Even stole someone’s wife just for the heck of it. Oh, honey~ Only A tier, because I can’t see this relationship going further than some fun in the backseat, but that’s probably enough.

Comm. Lucius Emery (Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea): He has a pet shark and wears a uniform. I’m already undoing my belt. This movie was… mmm… not good tho.

Dr. Adolphus Bedlo (The Raven): He is an abusive drunk parent. But he is so wet and pathetic. Frued won, I really am just gonna get together with someone who is like my dad (the real one not Béla).

Mr. Strangdour (Muscle Beach Party): He is the strongest man alive and yet I, his silly little kitten get to top him. My only problem with him is that I cannot for the life of me remember his name for some reason so I guess he just gotta deal with being called Sourdough and Stroganoff for the rest of his life. My concern is that his stupid kid is gonna walk in one day and go “Oh, you guys are wrestling, who’s winning? 8D” and I don’t want to deal with that.

Abbott (The Man Who Knew Too Much): He is evil, he is cunning, he has a neat little hair stripe just like me! Would also kill a child, which I personally don’t think is a terrible trait (as we saw earlier). Absolute snack! Baby I’ll be your dragon, I’ll be your right hand arm-man, your silly little homo eye candy!

Dr. Gogol (Mad Love): My favorite incel!! I wanna crack his bald head open with my canines like a hardboiled egg, call him a pathetic loser, and pin him against a wall and tongue him down! But seriously the man is the equivalent of a Reddit user, he has money tho, and if I could be his kept man, I wouldn’t mind.

Colonel Gimpy/Baron Rudolph Maximillian Tagger (Crack-Up): That scene where the plane is crashed into the ocean and his hair is wet and he looks up straight into the camera… //fans self// H-hewwo… daddy… sorry… daddy… sorry… Yeah, top tier. No question.

János ‘Johnny’ Szabó (The Face Behind The Mask): I refuse to use anything, but the correct Hungarian spelling, fuck you Hollywood. Kinda meh about him before the accident, way too happy and optimistic for my liking. I like a man who is bitter and ready to kill. Also something about masks just gives people a certain allure. Gets extra points for being the only Hungarian character Peter ever played and judging from the letter he writes back home, Johnny actually knows the language haha. I wouldn’t have to translate him my stupid memes, we could just switch back and forth. Domestic bliss.

Dr. Arthur Lorencz (The Boogie Man Will Get You): Top fucking tier! The most guy ever! He is a politician, he sells snake oil, he is a doctor, and also the town sheriff, cat lover, gay! Is there something this man can’t do! Love him!

Fritz Bercovy (The Constant Nymph): I know that in the book the character is supposed to be a very antisemitic caricature, but I think it was rewritten in the movie. Also I tried multiple times to check how old Toni is, but I only kept finding it for Tessa, so I’mma just gonna give him the benefit of the doubt and say that Fritz is not a groomer, unlike Lewis. With all that out of the way, I have a confessions to make. This character sent me over the edge and I did a Peter Lorre expy in my novel. I am weak. I saw him in the fur with the cane (and the whole club was looking at her) and… he really be doing boyfriend cosplay with one of my main characters. Also he has money and is willing to spend it on his SO, so… //twirls hair// I’d love to be a kept man~

Cornelius Leyden (The Mask of Dimitrios): This man was put on this wretched Earth to wear bowties and by Lucifer he makes them look good. Also he has little gray hairs on the side. And glasses!!! //heavy breathing// I need to make him scream my name all through the night!

Peter Lorre (Hollywood Canteen): That’s just my mans! That’s just my guy! That’s just my husband! My sweet cheese! My rotten soldier! My good time BOI! How could I not put him at the top? (Disclaimer: The only one topping that man is me ayyyy)

Marko (Black Angel): This man really cannot sit normally, huh. Anyway, he was hot, fruity, and a loving father. And the movie wasn’t bad either. I was actually rooting for the straights in this one.

Victor Emmric (The Verdict): Oh, he is husband material. He is a morbid little bastard, and is also romantic. A bit on the drunk side, but I don’t care. He’s hot. Would love to do art trades with him.

Kismet (My Favourite Brunette): This man is MY favourite brunette. My nasty boyfriend who holds me at knife point and spits in my mouth and calls me his bitch~ (Is that a knife in your pocket or are you just happy to see me~) I would also help this man get his citizenship.

Peter Lorre (Meet Me in Las Vegas): People who say that they are only into him when he is young and slim are weak as fuck. Oh, so just because this man is old and fat and his biological clock is not ticking anymore you don’t wanna try and get him preganant anymore??? Move over!! I’ll give this man evil milk (read: cum).

Commissioner Lamoret (Hell Ship Mutiny): I love a man who absolutely hates his job and just wants an easy life and is also willing to murder a child for it. We have so much in common~ And with my help, we would have gotten away with it. We’d be spending retirement in Bora Bora, baybeh.

Felix Gillie (The Comedy of Terrors): You see that man? That man, is my husband. We are married. He supports me and I support him. I would lie in the coffin that he made for me. I know that most peeps fall for him in Arsenic, well I’m different. I have the Father Issues and I want stability and I feel like Felix would give that to me.

Morgan Heywood (The Patsy): He was suffering, I was suffering, there was a collective suffering with this movie. Our meet-cute is me absolutely going feral and killing Jerry Lewis right in front of him. Our eyes lock as I’m covered in blood and the cops take me away. He falls in love with me right then and there. Conjugal visits right until the end of my life sentence.

Okay, y'all can go now~

#Peter Lorre #Tier List #You cannot make me tag all the movies and characters #Faustian Fables #Faustian Imagery

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shoot-me-now-or-shoot-me-later92 · 11 months

Text

• “Much Ado About Everything”•

Summary: London current days. You finally decide to start a basic acting class as hobby, you would never believe where this experience will lead you and especially the luck will bring you in the near future. Both in your career and love. But life isn’t all puppy dogs and rainbows…

Relationship: Pedro Pascal x (f) reader (y/n)

Warning: None for this chapter, maybe some cursing.

Tags: cursing, mention to anxiety.

Words count: 1,330

Notes: This is the first time I’m writing after almost 15 years. I’m sorry for any error or mistake, English is not my first language. I was inspired by something that is actually happening to me adding a bit of fantasy. I hope you’ll enjoy it! :)

~ Chapter one ~

You couldn’t believe this was happening. “Just luck” you thought staring blankly to nothing.

Last year you forced yourself to do something for you, something to enjoy and entertain yourself: signing up to acting classes. You always loved cinema, the core of it, how movies were made, scripts, pre and postproduction and you always had an interest in acting but you never believed you could be any good. This time, something changed: “It will be just as a hobby. I’ll meet new people, hopefully make some good friends and sharing the same interests!”. So you did. The course went by quickly, you moved from basic to intermediate, from character building to stage techniques.

You were loving it!

At the end of the year, your teacher organised and prepared all the students to stage a play:

“Much Ado About Nothing by William Shakespear.”

You were Beatrice who falls in love with Benedict.

On the same day of the premiere, Marcus, your teacher spoke to all of you with good news:

“I took a step forward and I have invited few friends from the industry to come and see the play.

I know you were expecting something more intimate and low key, but one of them is a talent scout and one... a Hollywood actor.”

The tension in the room spiked up and you all started chatting and trembling with anxiety.

“Alright alright, calm down! I didn’t want to tell you and spoil the surprise! I thought you were going to be excited; I didn’t think I was going to cause destress! Just enjoy the evening, don’t think about anything I said, do everything you did during the rehearsal and especially… HAVE FUN!”

Your friend Martha started whispering to you “Who do you think the actor is?” “I don’t know, I don’t want to even think about it, or I’ll freak out. Plus, if I have to be entirely honest, I don’t care about the actor but more about the talent scout. If this person is here I guess they are looking for someone for a minor part or something like that!” You said while creaking your fingers.

The play was a success and all of you seemed to have forgotten what Marcus said at the beginning.

The theatre was small and there were probably around 100 people among friends and family.

You were all happy and satisfied with how it went, especially Marcus.

All of you rushed to the backstage hugging, laughing, screaming, releasing all the tension tat was built up for months! Marcus entered the room and behind him two people following him. He joined the hug and congratulated each of you.

“I can’t express enough how happy I am with how this evening went! Everything was perfect: except for you David farting on stage during the scene!” everyone laughed. “Hey! That was intentional! It was to break the silence and save the moment!” David said ironically.

But it was true, you were not that happy because the silence during the scene was caused by you forgetting the line. You panicked, but David “gas release” gave you the time to look at Marcus to give you the line while the audience was laughing.

“Yeah… sorry guys!” you said crossing your arms and looking at your feet.

“Don’t be silly Y/N! It could have happened to anyone; the most important thing is that we found a way to improvise and save the moment as a team… even though it was David’s fart!” Martha said squeezing your shoulders. You laughed but It didn’t make you feel better though.

“It’s not like you fell, broke a rib and had to continue acting like nothing happened while in total and visible pain! Believe me, that is the worse, talking from experience.” It was the voice of one of the two people behind Marcus. None of you really paid attention when they entered the room behind him, you were all too excited, but in that exact moment you all looked at where the voice was coming from and there he was: Pedro Pascal.

Jaw dropped and eyes out of the orbit. You all knew him of course, but none of you could believe he was there, I mean, a shitty play from a minor theatre company. Marcus must have had very good friends in the past.

Pedro winked and smiled at you to make you feel better. You were out of words. “So don’t think about it, no one noticed it, you were great!” he added, and you blushed. “You were all great guys! Qudos to all of you!” he said looking at everyone to break your clear embarrassment to the compliment.

“Guys, this is Lynda Erkiletian, she is a talent scout looking for new faces for an upcoming project. And of course… I guess he doesn’t need an introduction: Mr Pedro Pascal, my dear friend from NYU.”

Everyone thanked and approached Lynda and Pedro sharing compliments and questions. The night ended going out to a pub till. You were all impressed by how Lynda and Pedro were so easy going and approachable. You went back home drunk, lying on your bed with a big smile and thinking what an incredible experience you just had.

The next morning you woke up in complete hangover and with a mix feeling of happiness and sadness for realising that the course ended, and that the experience was already just a memory. Back to reality, it was Sunday and from tomorrow you were starting over your boring office job.

You filled your mug with some hot strong coffee and you sat on the kitchen chair contemplating the absolute nothing. Zooming out, you were remembering every bit of last night with a smile and absent eyes.

The moment was interrupted by your phone buzzing. You look at the screen: It was Marcus.

You answered with a cracked voice: “Hello teacher!” “Hello my dear, how’s this morning going? From how much you drank last night and your voice I bet you are in pain!” laughing.

“Jesus Christ Marcus, keep it down, my head is exploding!” you said placing your hand on your forehead.

“Well, if your head is exploding now, wait until I give you the news… you’ll be bloooown”

“What’s that? What did I do? What happened, SPEAK YOU DEVIL!” you never liked being left with anticipation and guessing.

“Let’s just say that you gave a very good impression to Lydia and Pedro last night..” you could hear his smirk over the phone.

“What you mean? They barely spoke to me after the play.” You were confused as they spent the night talking to Martha and David thinking that they were the “chosen ones”.

“True, but apparently it was done on purpose as they kept an eye on you during and after the play to see what kind of person you are without giving a hint or pressuring it.”

“Shut up.” You said. “What?!” Marcus replied. “I was drunk, a fucking idiot, Marcus! I thought they were into Martha and David so I didn’t bother at all!”

“Well… I guess that’s what they were looking for and they liked you for who you truly were last night!” he said, and you couldn’t think of anything to say, your mind was already spinning and your heart racing.

“Anyway, before you start throwing up, they want to meet you for dinner tonight and Lydia wants to talk about a small part in a movie with Pedro, if you are interested. I’ll be there with you, don’t worry. I’ll give you the lines if you freeze again!” he laughed.

You couldn’t believe that was happening. How could it be? You?! You never took this course seriously; it was just a hobby. Yes you liked it very much but you never thought it could become anything else than just a nice experience.

“Just luck” you thought hanging up on Marcus after a quick “ok”, leaving your phone on the table you kept staring at nothing.

In shock.

A lucky shocking moment.

#pedro pascal #pedro x reader #pedrostories #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedrohub #pedroispunk #pascalispunk #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x reader #fypage #fyp #fyp2023 #fanfiction #fanfic #william shakespeare #much ado about nothing #much ado about everything

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lyon-amore · 1 year

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What if…? Duskwood Chapter 15

Chapter 14 ————————————————————————————-

*Macie POV*

I look at the phone as I try to focus. As much as I want to, Jake's not going to text me today, is he? I sigh going back to work. Inside me there was a little voice like my parents saying 'Macie, forget about him, he's hurting you and he's not good for you'. I already know... I know perfectly well... But maybe I'm the one who's put a lot of pressure on him, wanting to know about him. I have grown up in an environment where research was the main thing, looking at people and every detail was important. Ah… How my mother hated it… 'Why don't you focus on playing with dolls or anything else that doesn't involve interrogations?' And yes, I played detective with my Barbie and listened to my father read the reports of his investigations, my mom was mad because I was only six years old, which over time I learned thanks to my father.

Why do I remember this now? Maybe because I'm betraying my investigative principles with my feelings. Dad never got emotionally involved. It was one of the rules. The important thing was the truth for those who really asked for justice. And that's what I should focus on. "I won't let him dominate me," I tell myself, fixing the script that someone had messed up with a bunch of typos. "I'm going to focus. I will focus..." Two minutes later, he was already in my head. "I can't focus…" So this is what it feels like when you're really so in love? Well I hate it. "Tick tock, tick tock" Lian approaches my table, gesturing on her wrist as if she had a watch. ". Time is running out to decide whether to go to the anniversary as a couple with Aiden or alone." Ugh… Right… I was faking that too, I almost forgot that I have a life outside of research. "Are you going or are you going to pass?" "I don't know yet." I'm actually waiting for a confirmation from Jake. I don't want to have a date with another guy without knowing that he really likes me ", I don't really want to party either-" "Stop right there." she points her finger at me, with a lost look. "You? Macie Connors that when you see a day off the first thing you do is want to have a good time? What happens?" "I'm just really busy lately," and I'm not going to deny it. I have a bunch of little notes in my room about the investigation. Until now I have not realized that I’m dealing with three things at the same time: private life, love life and detective life, all without rest, because when I get home, I think about everything that happened during the day. Oh! And we are going to add the threats of a kidnapper to the list, why not? Whoever I tell this to, they wouldn't believe it. And better not to. "Busy is not enough" she crosses her arms, looking at me like an angry mother, "it seems you've changed." "For better or for worse?" "Mmm... how to say it?" She begins to think, a little doubtfully "I've never seen this Macie, it's like you're serious all the time." "Me? Serious?" I let out a laugh. The last time they said that to me was when I was sixteen. "Every time you come back from eating you look like another person." <<Because it's when I come back from something that made me happy in a long time. >> Lian doesn't know anything from before we met and I prefer it to stay that way. I've suffered enough to call attention again. When I get back, what I do is think about everything Jake and I have discovered. Something that makes me partly distract from my real work "Hey… If you need to talk, you already know that Aiden and I are your friends right?" Her face of hers changes completely. It breaks my soul to take her away from all this. She was always a great support in my life, her and Brian. But I can't make her know. "I know Lian, don't worry, everything is fine." I smile trying to calm her down. "I hope so…" she sighs, relaxing "Well, I'll go to work too." "See you later, Lian." I feel like the worst friend in the world. When I get home, I throw away the clue paper for Jessy's initialed bracelet. Although I always thought it wasn't hers, I wanted to at least write down the theory for Jake, my partner. I talk a bit with Jessy and Richy to end the day. Jessy is worried about Richy, while he seems to laugh at the situation when I ask him if he has committed any sin, since he has been marked by The Man Without a Face, how can he laugh? My question was totally serious, I mean, maybe in another context I could have asked it, but… I don't know… I wouldn't be able to joke if in my case it was Lian who had been kidnapped. Of course, this from my point of view as a researcher, I analyze the group and its actions. That should have understood.

Sitting at the table, I jot down Jake's name in the possible theory that he gave the bracelet to Hannah. I have too many theories with Jake. Is he running away? Is he married? Is he Hannah's lover? Who is Jake really? Is he hiding or is he hiding something? As guilty of Hannah's disappearance I don't have a theory because the investigation doesn't make sense then.

Henry tugs on my pajama bottoms and I pick him up, caressing him carefully. "What's up, sweetie?" I speak to him as if he were a baby "Did you want me to pet you? Is that?" he sniffs my face and I laugh at the tickling he does "I know, I've been so busy lately that I hardly pay attention to you." I get scared when I receive a call on my phone. I was afraid to receive them at night, it is never good news. I let it ring for a while longer, seeing that he put 'Unknown'. It was him.

I like scary movies because I know they're not real. I’m one of those who starts to analyze them and see that everything can be impossible due to some ridiculous situations, but that doesn’t mean that seeing something that scares you gives you adrenaline. But I can only stand it in fiction. In real life… In real life I would faint at the sight of real blood, I can't even smell it if the meat is undercooked. Therefore, I can't stand the kidnapper's threats. Because I know it's real. He can really hurt me. Not a screen.

The phone continues to ring. It is very persistent. I wouldn't know if it's for fear of another threat or because I'm alone in my house. The times he has called me I was with Jake. Now, in a big, silent house and with no one to tell me that everything will be fine, I’m a little afraid to answer. I don't realize my finger is shaking when I accept the video call.

I look closely at the scared screen. It might look like one of those cheesy internet videos you watched as a teenager 'Looking for Slenderman in the woods!' where you later see a ridiculously poorly made 3D figure. But I knew this wasn't from some ridiculous YouTube person. It was from the kidnapper himself. I hug Henry tightly, swallowing nervously.

I let out a big sigh of relief when the video call ends. I hold Henry to my chest, trembling. I want to think that I’m safe here… Right? Although my first instinct is to text Jake, terrified. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Macie Jake?! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I didn't realize how much I needed him right now until I saw his name written on it. I'm really not as brave as I appear to be, huh? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jake Yes. I saw it too. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I feel relieved when he answers me, almost more secure. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Macie What are his intentions? Jake I don’t know Macie. I believe that there is more to come. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I don't know why his words don't reassure me at all.

I had been reading those words, until I noticed the following messages. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jake Macie? Macie are you there? What's going on? Macie I… Sorry, is that the video call... ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I didn't dare tell him that he had scared me, it would sound ridiculous. A 26-year-old adult being scared by a lousy video… It was laughable… If it hadn't been for the same person who had chased your friend through the woods... ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jake Are you alone at this moment? Do you need company? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And there he was… The kind Jake… The one who wanted me by his side. All my worries seem to melt away when I talk to him. Also fear. I smile reading to him. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Macie I just need a minute to calm down You don't think it could be a cursed video, do you? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I try to joke around to take the fear out of my body, going to bed together with Henry still in my arms. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jake We'll find out in seven days. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I let out a laugh reading the reference. I feel like he said it to play along with me and make me feel better. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jake Are you sure you are alright? Macie Yes I’ll be fine Jake I have recorded the video. Maybe we should look into it. But tomorrow. I do not want you to see it at this hour again. Macie Thanks 🙂 Jake :) In any case, I will be on the lookout again for another call that happens. But do not hesitate to let me know if you need me either. Macie Alright Sorry if I interrupted some important work... Jake This was much more important. Rest well Macie. Macie Good night Jake ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I keep my phone next to me on the bed in case of an emergency. Henry is the first to fall asleep, while I take a little longer, as if waiting for another video call from that crazy man. Will the makeup I'm wearing manage to hide my dark circles? I feel that I have slept very little or rather: nothing.

I put a coffee on my table. The second one this morning. The only thing that relieves me is that I'm going to see Jake. “That's too big coffee,” Aiden laughs, walking past my table. “Didn't you have breakfast?” "Eh... Nope." I answered, looking at the coffee. Is it really that big? "Has someone invited you to be his partner for the party?" He asks me, a little nervous. "No, no one" I lean in a little and whisper ". I think they don't dare out of fear." He lets out a laugh and slaps the papers out of his hand. "If no one has asked you so far" I look at how his eyes shine "do you think I still have a chance?" I exhale a charged breath, looking at the table to avoid meeting his eyes. “I'll let you know ahead of time if I'm going,” I finally tell him. I think it would be good to continue using him a little more so as not to raise suspicions with Lian and that her talent for romance discovers that I am like this for another man ", I promise I will reject everyone who asks me." "Are you really capable of breaking their hearts?" "Only for the first man who ever asked me: Yes." "Then I'll be waiting," he says goodbye with the sheets in hand and the smile of a Hollywood actor. I don't understand how he doesn't dazzle me like the rest. I mean… Not even before meeting Jake had I noticed him so much. I guess in Jake I've found what I've always wanted in a man, but until now I didn't know it. As soon as Jake opens the door, I see him handing me a coffee. I caught it surprised, looking at him. "Thank you." I answered, drinking my third coffee of the day. Today I don’t sleep. "I thought you wouldn't have slept after last night's video." He replies, following me. "Are you still scared?" "I wasn't scared," I lied, leaving the coffee on the table "I just wasn't expecting 'If you watch this video at midnight you could die'" I look at him and raise an eyebrow. ". Although it surprised me more with your messages, I thought that you didn’t know what others felt by message." "I still failed my guess." He sighs, scratching the back of his neck. He hasn’t failed. I'm really a little scared. I don't want the next video he sends me to be of Hannah in danger. I couldn't take it because of the guilt that he hurt her because I was investigating.

I smile a little knowing that he knew how I felt. I feel special. “Okay, let's go watch that video” I say, clapping my hands togethe. ”, prepare it.” “We have changed roles and now you are the boss?” He teases, going to his chair. "Sorry boss, I'll shut up and let you talk." I joked, taking the chair and putting it next to him. As soon as I sit down, he plays it. I try to see something significant, but nothing. There didn't seem to be anything that stood out. "Mmh, the call came from the forest again…" I commented, resting my head on Jake's shoulder as he stared at the screen. I take another sip of coffee before falling asleep, it's good to be like this with him "Somehow it seems to be important." “You are absolutely right about that.” I look at Jake who doesn't take his eyes off the screen, then holds up his hand, counting. "Cleo was jogging in the forest when she was being filmed.” He holds up finger. "Richy was in the forest when he was marked.” He holds up another finger and then he looks at me, raising an eyebrow. “Do we have a legend come true as suspect?" “Who you gonna call?" I ask, humming the tune at the beginning of the question. “Ghostbusters?" He lets out a laugh before becoming serious again "But I was being serious" I see how he crosses his arms, without taking his eyes off me ", the first time you told me about the man without a face I didn’t really take it too serious" he maintains his green eyes fixed on me, making it clear that in the end what we were investigating is important. "However, now I think it is very possible that our perpetrator is hiding behind the legend." "I would like to add something to that-" "Please, don't let it be 'I told you'." I laughs and shakes my head. I'd like to tell him, but seeing as he's come to that conclusion himself, I'll let it slide. “It seems like people are supposed to stay away from the forest." “I totally agree with you on that" he quickly turns off the computer screen, as if he didn't want me to see anything "Isn’t there going to be an extensive search of the forest happening soon?" "Yes, next Sunday." I get up from my chair, remembering that I have also brought food. I think I got used to doing it, already in case of an emergency, "But apparently Duskwood’s forests are huge." I commented, while I did the same ritual as always in the kitchen. I remember that time when my tire got a flat, there was nothing but forest. Stephan would love to explore it with Sky for sure. Come to think of it, I'm sure Stephan would be terrified of Jake, he doesn't like hackers at all. "They are indeed." Has he been in Duskwood? "Something else: I need your help Macie.” He walks over to me and turns the stove down. "I’ve been waiting for that already" I say as I wink at him. He looks at me with a small smile. I'm sure he must be laughing at me in his head. "I enhanced the prescription from Hannah’s cloud some more and was able to make the doctor’s name legible again.” He leans on the counter with both hands and he looks at me. ”It appears Hannah went to see a certain "Doctor Ulric Barrett". I want you to find out the password to his computer for me.” I nod briskly. I'm going to do something cool hacker! Wait… How can I get a password? "How am I supposed to do that?" I ask, a little lost. "It is not uncommon for people to choose things for passwords that mean something to them." He now looks at the food, waiting for it to heat up. "A beloved family member, a number sequence that has a certain meaning to them..." he is saying while he renumbers with his hand "Many people are openly sharing such personal information about themselves." Why is it that I now understand how my cousin feels about hackers? "You mean..." I say, thinking about what I think I'm thinking. I see how he smiles, without saying anything to me "On instagram, Facebook and others." "Exactly." He finishes heating up the food and puts it on plastic plates, while we go to the table, putting mine back and I put the cutlery on ours. "What does Ulric Barret like? What he doing in his free time, what kinf of pictures is he uploading" he sits down and moves the cover in a circular way ". That might lead us to his password." “Alright." “Very well. Tell me the password as soon as you figure it out-“ "Right now I'll get to it." "But first-“ "Yeah, yeah." I pick up the plate, rolling my eyes. “You shouldn't worry about me, you know?“ “You forget basic necessities when you do it.“ "No way!“ "I know you haven't slept by the look on your face.“ "I was watching movies.“ "Or that you were worried about the video call." I ignore his comment. I don't want him to know, because if he does, it might take me further away from this investigation. With this new lead we have, maybe we'll get something important out of it. I put my best face on Jake, pretending to be okay. "Jake, I really didn't care about the video call" I comment quietly ", what is he going to do to me? He is in Duskwood, I am here." “Right, we shouldn't worry.“ I give him a smile and he returns it. He's already worried enough about Hannah that he's worried about me.

I start looking for Mr. Barret on the internet and I find different accounts. I hit the first link, Instagram. I read the information: Duskwood psychologist, he loves rainy days, tea, dogs, nature, books and music... Nothing remarkable, it's time to look at the photos. I go looking one by one, in case I see something that catches my attention. It is then that I meet an adorable dog. "How cute!" I exclaim out loud, without realizing it. "What's the matter?" Jake looks at me letting out a sigh for scaring him by my scream. "I'm looking at his dog," I replied, looking at the photos of her "I wish I could have a dog…" "Are you saying that for Henry?" "No, allergy…" I answered annoyed "The password is Laula" I answered confidently. I can tell that he loves his dog from the photos, I think it's important. She is so cute dressed to celebrate her birthday. "Something good that you have taken from looking at the photos of her." I look at Jake with an excited smile. "Thank you for doing me the great honor of investigating." "You're welcome," he laughs, and I watch as he braces himself. "Wait, let me try it." Even for five words he is very fast typing. It seemed that he had given a single touch to a keyboard. He is so fast with his fingers, what else his could do with his fingers? Steal? Maybe he is a thief? Hmm... Lots of theories... "Yes! It worked!" I’m contagious with his joy knowing that it has worked. "You can’t even begin to imagine how many times such a simple search is enough to gain access to a computer." I can see from his expression that he's telling the truth, what kinds of computers has he gotten into? Is it done illegally or because he works on it? "That really makes me think." I say worried. I don't think my passwords are easy to guess, but I'm already afraid that they can get into my accounts. But I trust Jake wouldn't. "You did a really good job," he congratulates me, and the smile he gives me makes my face heat up. I've fallen back into his charm again, no matter how much I don't want to. "I thank you for your help." "We are an awesome team." I replied with a laugh. Jake looks at me and I see how he starts to turn more and more red. He pulls his hood up, avoiding looking at me. Too late Jake, I've realized. "Yes, I feel the same way." I manage to see a smile. The atmosphere relaxes. It's the Jake who opened up to me.

I can't stop watching him, my heart doesn't stop beating fast. I remember when he closed the door on me, at that moment I would have wanted one of those kisses that take your breath away. I wish it had happened, it didn't bother me that he was the one to do it, especially since it's what I want the most. “God…” I hear him say, as he stares at the screen. “What happen?" I ask worried. "He may be a psychologist, but his entire desk is a mess," he comments, letting out a big sigh. "So then I better take care of the doctor’s computer now." "Aren't you going to order it?" I arch an eyebrow, doubtful. "No, not that" he laughs, although he doesn't seem very encouraged, ", I'm going to have to look through all the folders he has, it will surely take time to find something." "I guess then I'll leave you working while I go to work." I get up grabbing my things. "Good luck, Jake." "Thanks Macie." "And…" I put my hair back better, smiling shyly "Thank you really for worrying about me, I think you were the only one who noticed that I didn't sleep well..." "Please don't hide your thoughts" His voice sounds deep with his concern. I fixate on his hand, squeezing it tightly. He's not only worried, but he's also furious about what happened ", it's important to me that you're okay." "Okay," I control myself by not approaching him and even kissing him on the cheek. I have to be more determined. I can't cut myself for the next one. For today I let him work. "Let me know when you have something." “You'll be the first to know.” he teases, along with a laugh. I nod and leave the apartment.

Jake… am I selfish if I wish that after this investigation, you wouldn't go after Hannah but me? *Jake POV*

I controlled myself enough last night not to locate her house after that call. I don't know how I was able to leave her alone, all because I thought I might put her in danger when she needed me the most. But it's true, as long as she isn’t in Duskwood, everything will be fine. She really didn't look good... I don't know how she manages to keep smiling despite what she's been through, is it so I don't worry about her? She shouldn't do it, not for me. This makes me care more about her mentality. I need her to be okay. And I don't even think about it because of the investigation, but because I care about her. I press my hands hard on the table. I have to calm down. Think about something else.

I think when she has rested her head on my shoulder, I have been able to smell her shampoo. That calms me down. I take a deep breath trying to keep the image of Macie calm, if I imagine her scared... I don't think I can control myself from wanting to break something. "I feel like I lost to you, Macie." I commented, placing a hand on my shoulder where she's placed her head.

Chapter 16

#duskwood #duskwood jake #duskwood mc #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood fanfic #duskwood everbyte #everbyte #everbyte studio

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nightswithkookmin · 2 years

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Did you watch the recent Run BTS episode? It filled me with such joy.

They're such a bunch of chaotic individuals when they're together in that environment. My brain is out of practice speed reading the multiple translations! 😆

The editors of Run BTS are *chefs kiss*. Hobi & Namjoon are their biggest victims.

And JK imitating Bam, then Jimin immediately calling him 'Bamie'. 🥰 Plus JK's, "Is he leaving? What did he say?" My delulu mind is convinced JK went to Lotte World because he thought that's where Jimin would go. 🤭

Mi love your brain

Okay, I'm finna watch it😆

If you are free now let's have a watch party 🥳

I'll just keep updating this post with my live reaction.

LET'S GOOOOO

Aaaaaaaaahhhh- NOT THIS SONG PLAYING AT THE START! LAWD I'M IN MY FEEELSSSSS!!!!

HOLD. I need to twerk on the beat!

RUN BULLET PROOF RUN RUN BULLET PROOF

Enough time has passed to make a baby?? Boy if you don't stop🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

No but JUNGKOOK?💀

This is such a weird habit to have not gonna lie. Change Jimin's position in a line up and he would almost always so naturally and so unconsciously turn to face him. That's his north star 🌟 right there. This is too much for me to handle🤧

PARK JIMIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

Let me play the beast to your beauty!

Lets role play. I'll wear red you wear blue🥺

Naa JIMIN! ITS JUST ONE MINUTE IN.

YALL COME GET YOUR BIAS!

Literally one minute in and he's already feeding into Jungkook's praise Kink. SO SICKENING. For a "submissive gay looking guy" he sure knows how to TOP💀

Just one of these days Jimin will look into the camera and tell me I'm a good girl naughty kitten. Fingers crossed on the universe. It will happen. Thank you baby Jesus for an answered prayer. In Jesus' name, Mwah

Eh????

Where is everyone?? OK. I'm taking a break. Brb

Sorry, I took a long bathroom break- which is a lie but imma need yall to believe it- so let's carry on.

I love how JM talks about growth and just how pragmatic and realistic he is in assuming change is erratic and inevitable. People change in the minutetest of ways every second. Yet some people in the Fandom hold them to their past selves everyday, adamant to accept they may feel different about certain "friendship" bonds they formed at the inception of their band, may have gotten used to or over their fear of intimacy and now can let themselves be vulnerable in a way that doesn't threaten their sense of self, may have recoiled a bit and found a new appreciation for their privacy and overall might know the script a little bit better now to control the narrative.

And the contrast between Jikook is marvelous. Its been so long I forgot how merely watching them on screen feels so wholesome. Look how effortlessly JM exudes such wild dark feminine enery which is usually in his resting face but can switch it up into this aegyo childlike character sprinkled with performative innocent- yet he is far from innocent. A power damsel is what he is.

Contrastinly, you have Jungkook who for all intent and purposes looks far from innocent, strong, traditionally "MASCULINE" but has such an innocent almost childlike soul. I want to hug them both.

[Aside. You guys, this is weird huh? I'm shy sharing my raw thoughts with you like this☺ This is how people start thinking I'm weird and shit but I'm just a very passionate person]

Update.

There's something really warm and humbling about Namjoon asking Jungkook for answers and telling him he is so smart.

Oops. There it is, the OT7 Jungkook praise chorus🤣🤣🤣

I swear if he doesn't have a praise Kink he's certainly being conditioned to develop one🤣🤣🤣🤣

GOLDY

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wintcrstcrfall · 1 year

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@elpida continued from here

Johanna had just started to pull off her coat when Ellis' words caught up to her. Movements slowing down, the woman tried to offer another one of her polite smiles - one between reassurance and understanding, even if there wasn't even a single part of the redhead that was an expert in familial drama. Her reasons for ending up in this arranged marriage... well, they were as far away from his as one could get. And Jo couldn't really find it in herself to feel resentful towards him for it; maybe because she had never been a resentful person in a first place, or because him saying all of this... it made her feel a little bit better, a little bit safer too. The panic probably would blossom in full force tomorrow morning, but for tonight the redhead felt... tired from all of the emotions. Having to hear his vow to her, the only thing Jo could focus on had been that... nothing of it was real, no matter how beautiful it sounded. And it never would be. “Thank you... for being honest,” Jo offered carefully. The woman was no psychologist but she sure had visited one enough times as of recent - and that had helped to gain a little insight as to how they worked. The fact that her husband was saying all of this, making sure to emphasis on how he wouldn't do anything to make her uncomfortable... it meant something to her. It meant a lot, actually. Because it didn't feel scripted, not like it had been with the vows. “I don't hate you. That’s impossible. You haven't done anything wrong.” Gesturing around the ridiculously huge house, the woman still kept her eyes on him. She had to, in order to will his features to stop blurring. It had been impossible while at their wedding - the emotions, the noise, the brightness, everything - but now she hoped to be able to memorise his features and how he looked like when he was kind and open. So she could know when he wasn't going to be anymore.

Eyes slowly lowering towards his hand, it only took her a minute before reaching out and carefully slipping her fingers into his warm palm. “Hi, Ellis. I'm Elizabeth. And it weren't my parent's that made me to marry you. It was me who struck a deal with yours. See... your mother knows me, from... a while ago. And when I needed safety, she told me about you. She said that you are the only one that can offer me protection. So the way I see it, I already trust you too much... no pressure at all! I'm sure this will be... a very strange thing to get used to.” Johanna’s shoulders moved in a shrug before a frown crossed her face. She followed his actions and leaned on the kitchen island too, hands crossing in front of her chest. The dress she was wearing was so soft, it reminded her of a time from her past where she had been too naïve to be able to see the mess her life was turning into. And look where that had brought her. “Sorry. I know you didn’t ask about my drama.” Her eyes were suddenly so dry and tired that she closed them for a bit, while taking a deep breath in. "What I can promise you too is... that yes, I will try to learn how to be a good wife to you too, Ellis. And I'm glad that it was you. Because you seem... nice. And you'll only seem nicer when you show me my room!" Not that she knew how to spot nice guys. Her past proved that point painfully. "Only one thing, thought! I-... hm, I don't drink coffee at all. Do you hate me now?"

#c: ellis #{{ ~ ellis x johanna ~ }}#{{ ~ interactions. ~ johanna e. ballard. ~ }}#~ just a note - she now uses her second name as her first due to her past! that is why she said elizabeth <3

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kumeko · 1 year

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A/N: For the Mystical Songstress zine! Dorogrid is such a knight x maid ship, I love it, especially since Ingrid is an absolute disaster and Dorothea has to steer the ship.

…

Of the things Dorothea expected in that gap between class and dinner, in the waning hours of sunlight while she carefully painted her nails, a knock on the door was not one of them. She glanced at the small glass at the top of the door. The pink sky confirmed her confusion: it was late.

Far too late for any gentlemen to visit, at least. A scoundrel though? Well, considering all the dates she had been on recently, she wouldn’t be surprised if she’d found a bad apple. Even a prestigious school like this was bound to have several—even more so considering all of the arrogant nobles around her.

There was another firm rap. Dorothea gnawed her lip. If she shouted, Petra and Caspar were sure to come. Hell, even mentioning Edie’s name would be enough to scare off any man foolish enough to not take a no. There was little to fear. Steeling herself, Dorothea set aside her nail polish and opened the door.

However, instead of a brutish man, she found a contrite Ingrid at the door, her posture overly rigid, her hands tugging on her sleeves. It was ridiculously earnest. It was adorable. “Sorry for the late call.”

Immediately, Dorothea relaxed. She smiled softly, shaking her head. “I always have time for you, Ingrid. No matter how late.”

Ingrid briefly smiled back before growing serious once more. Jaw tense, she said, “Still, I—actually, may I come in?”

“Of course.” Dorothea giggled, stepping back. While this was unexpected, it wasn’t at all unwelcome. This wasn’t the first time Ingrid had come with a problem, after all. “What is it this time, more boy trouble?”

“No!” Ingrid flushed, as she always did whenever Dorothea brought it up. She stomped in, looking a cross between annoyed and embarrassed.

Still laughing, Dorothea closed the door. “Sorry, sorry. I shouldn’t tease.”

She lowered her eyes, remembering Ingrid’s latest engagement and the trouble he had given them. Without the professor, who knew what that scoundrel would have done to Ingrid? Hopefully, Lord Galatea had learned his lesson and wouldn’t be arranging any more matches for his daughter. Dorothea sat on her bed and patted the spot beside her. “So, what is the matter, Ingrid?”

Ingrid bit her cheek, looking oddly hesitant, before perching on the very edge. Their knees bumped and Dorothea felt hot where they touched. It was a good thing she had been in the opera for so long, or her feelings would have been clear on her face. As it was, her back stiffened slightly as she both tried to lean closer and stay away.

If her crush grew any bigger, she wasn’t sure what she’d do.

“I wanted to thank you,” Ingrid finally said, turning slightly to look her in the eyes. In the soft light, there was something noble about the cut of her jaw, the strength in her expression. Her fingers dug into her thighs. “If you hadn’t come to save me from that proposal…”

As Ingrid trailed off, Dorothea reached over and squeezed her hand. “Of course I did. That guy is an utter jerk, and you deserve better. Much better.”

Ingrid smiled, turning her hand to squeeze back. “You do too, you know.”

That caught her off guard. Dorothea stared at her blankly. “Huh?”

“I-I mean…” Ingrid’s flush reached her neck now, a soft strawberry red. She rubbed her knee awkwardly. “I’ve seen some of the men who’ve courted you. They are nobles, sure, and some of them decent men, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you truly happy around them. You don’t have to settle. You can find someone who’ll make you happy.”

“Have you been watching me?” Dorothea felt utterly warm and cozy at the thought, like she was in the spotlight on the stage, like she was reciting the lines from her favourite script. She half-wanted to kiss Ingrid.

“N-no!” Ingrid stammered, looking even more embarrassed. She was a terrible liar; Dorothea tried not to chuckle. “A-anyways, hopefully my father will have learned his lesson from this and I won’t have to deal with any more suitors for a while.”

Dorothea’s laugh died on her lips, her heart twisting at the thought. Lord Galatea was serious about marrying off his daughter—she had seen the letters Ingrid had received. Unless something miraculous happened, he might even succeed within the year. “I hope so too. He should listen to you.”

“He’s twice as stubborn as I am.” Ingrid sighed, put out. After a moment, she shook her head and looked serious once more. “Still, that’s not why I am here. I want to repay you.”

“You—oh.” Chuckling, she dismissed the whole matter off hand. “There’s nothing to repay. I’m happy to have done it. Like I would let that jerk lay his hands on my Ingrid.”

Lips pressed in a flat line, Ingrid shook her head solemnly. “No, you did me a great favour.”

“Ingrid, really, it’s fine.” Dorothea reached over and squeezed her hand. “Anyone would have done the same.”

Ingrid’s gaze flicked from Dorothea to their clasped hands. Her frown grew deeper. “Anyone could have, but you did. I can’t let a debt remain unpaid.”

There was something utterly charming about how insistent she was, about the nobility in her confident gaze and her square shoulders. Dorothea had seen the men around her wear honour like a badge, but Ingrid embodied it. She turned it into something real. Something to be proud of.

It was also utterly annoying at times like this. Ingrid lacked flexibility, always pushing for more.

Dorothea tried again. “It isn’t a debt. I didn’t do this to get something back.”

“Then why?” Judging by Ingrid’s widening eyes, she looked surprised she had asked the question. Still, she plunged forward anyway. “Why did you help me? We have talked a handful of times before this. Your advice has always been sound and I enjoy our friendship, but is it worth risking your life over?”

“That…” For once, Dorothea wasn’t sure what to say. Her teasing died on her lips as Ingrid’s straightforward gaze pierced her.

Ingrid pressed on. “I know you don’t enjoy fighting. You could have let the professor handle it. You could have just let me handle it. You could have even told Sylvain and Felix about it, or his highness.”

Dorothea leaned back, her fingers almost brushing Ingrid’s but not quite. That was the gap between them, she had found. Ingrid was right—for all of their conversations, they were just more than acquaintances, slightly less than friends.

Yet, that couldn’t explain the panic that filled her when she had realized just who was after Ingrid.

“I…” Dorothea gripped the bedsheet. She remembered watching Ingrid soaring through the air, as gallant as a hero of old, her hair golden in the sunlight, her expression one of pure joy. She remembered walking past the training grounds as Ingrid practiced on a training dummy, her spear clenched tight in her fist, her eyes clear and focused. She remembered Ingrid awkwardly sitting on the bed, staring at foundation as though it was written in a foreign language, intimidated by this new world but exploring it nonetheless.

The reason Dorothea helped was all of those things. They might have only talked a dozen or so times, but Dorothea had been watching her for much longer. It scared her, to think about how long this crush had grown within her, to wonder if it really was just a crush.

She had only come to this dorm for one purpose, after all: to marry rich.

The Galateas determinedly were not that.

Dorothea kept her gaze fixed firmly on her lap. Softly, she half-lied, “I also know what it’s like to be restrained. For others to make decisions for you. I couldn’t leave you be.”

Ingrid bridged the gap between their hands, clasping it firmly. When Dorothea looked up, she was rewarded with a soft smile. “Then that’s how I will repay you. If you need help breaking free, I’m right here.” She squeezed their hands. “Anytime.”

It wasn’t fair. The way Ingrid acted, the way she spoke, all of it wasn’t fair. Dorothea had listened to enough pretty speeches from her time in the opera. She had thought herself immune to them. It seemed she just hadn’t heard them from the right person. Quietly, she repeated, “Anytime?”

“Just call and I’ll be there.” Ingrid nodded, squeezing her hand once more. “It doesn’t matter why or where.”

“A girl could get the wrong idea,” Dorothea replied weakly, already feeling her defenses crumble.

Immediately, Ingrid reddened. “T-that reminds me…” She withdrew, fidgeting with her hem as she looked anywhere but at Dorothea. If before she had been a knight, now she was just a schoolgirl. Quietly, she mumbled, “What did you mean earlier?”

Dorothea could just make out the words. Bemused, she raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

“Back when my father gave Lúin, and just now. You-you said-” Ingrid stuttered over her last few words, her face beet red. “When you said ‘my Ingrid’, what did you mean?”

“Oh.” Dorothea stared at her blankly for a moment, before laughing. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

“I’m being serious here!” Ingrid snapped, both embarrassed and angry.

Now that the shoe was on the other foot, Dorothea slipped back into her comfort zone. Brushing a stray lock behind her ear, she leaned forward. Their shoulders bumped. Her hair brushed Ingrid’s nape. This close, she could hear the poor girl’s heart run a marathon, feel her nervous breath on her skin. This close, she could see the blue and gold flecks in her green eyes.

Ingrid turned redder at the proximity but didn’t pull away. Utterly vulnerable, she stuttered, “W-what?”

Dorothea smirked. The reaction made things too easy. “What do you think it meant?” she purred, voice low.

For a split second, something akin to desire ignites within Ingrid’s eyes. Then, it disappeared as Ingrid went through every possible shade of red in a second. “D-Dorothea!” Ingrid spluttered.

“Sorry, couldn’t help it.” Dorothea giggled as an increasingly flustered tried to pull herself together. Honestly, whether or not Ingrid had realized it, she had already helped her already.

It had been easy when Dorothea could have passed this feeling off as a crush. It had been only marginally harder when she’d realized how impossible her goals were otherwise. One after another, Dorothea had given herself excuses to not pursue her own heart.

It was a dog-eat-dog world. No one could blame her.

Yet, despite all of that, Ingrid wouldn’t (or perhaps, couldn’t) hide her feelings any more than she was about to tell a lie. For all of her denials, Ingrid’s face gave away her real feelings and desires.

Their knees were still touching. Their shoulders bumped. Ingrid’s skin was hot wherever they touched. This close, all Dorothea had to do was close the gap. This close, all Dorothea wanted was for Ingrid to do the same.

“It’s all your fault, you know,” she murmured. Ingrid’s pretty speeches stirred up a hope within herself, a want for more. More than the songstress of the Opera House. More than a cushy life as some trophy housewife.

She wanted happiness.

She wanted love.

Dorothea didn’t so much as lean closer as she fell. Ingrid’s lips tasted of freedom, as that intoxicating rush Dorothea felt whenever she saw Ingrid swoop through the sky.

Ingrid stiffened before clumsily kissing back, her fingers nervously flitting up and down Dorothea’s sides. Their noses bumped, teeth clanked, and it had to be the worst kiss she’d ever had.

Dorothea smiled the entire time. I’m sorry, Edie, she silently apologized.

It looked like she was changing houses.

#dorothea arnault #fe3h #dorogrid #ingrid brandl galatea #dorothea x ingrid #fanfic #ingrid hitting all the knight tropes #and dorothea and i love it #especially how awkward she is #how dare the game give us that side quest #but no other material

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alistairlowes · 4 months

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i survived s7 i'm freee. by far worst season. if i was an actor and they handed me this script i'd quit but each to their own

- …. not omar again for christ’s sake enough

- barbie's mom advocating for that guy to be expeled but she didn't lift a finger to try and expel her daughters rapists ofc

- skam espana guy

- y'all just met….

- so let me get this straight… omar and joel met after joel (a minor) was kicked out of his house for being gay and ended up homeless and then seeked help from youth center where omar (a 20yo) worked. and omar ended up fucking him… and now they are dating and living together. PREDATOR BEHAVIOUR. no… no. jail. he should not be around kids that need help that's fucking disgusting i hate him gtfo!!!

- elite wikia says joel is 16 but people on reddit keep arguing about the age lmao as if any age that's 16-18 makes it better when thEY FUCKING MET IN YOUTH CENTER WHERE HE WAS SUPPOSE TO HELP SOMEONE IN A VULNERABLE POSITION AND INSTEAD HE DECIDED TO FUCK HIM. also they said they met a year ago so even if he was 18 now he was still underage then.

- „you sound like a creep“

„no it's ok i'm with joel 🤪“

that just makes it worse you fucking fuck let everyone know you're sleeping with a student while working in the school

- ow omar is depressed? hope that the depression wins this round 🥂

- ah a half sister we didn't know anything about until now. sure why not

- eric is interesting portrayal of mental illness and sef harm. omar tho… idc if he kills himself

- BRO WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING IS THAT NOT HIS MOTHER?????? WHAT IS HAPPENINGGGG??? THIS CROSSED LINES WHAT THE HELL ☠️☠️☠️😭😭😭

- sara fucking sucks both her and her shitty bf can get fucked

- ok so joel is staying with omar because:

a) he doesn't want to be homeless again

b) he is afraid omar will attempt suicide

oh yeah great relationship

- chloe told ivan thank fuck!!!!

- i support ivan and joel cuz i want joel as far as possible from omar and legit least toxic ship so far

- idc about barbie and her bf and whatever money laundering drama is happening in here

- eric is wasted opportunity because they can't write for shit. i don't feel anything for the fact he wants to commit suicide because they never made me care about him

- literally lost the parents plot i can't be bothered

- idk how does this keep getting renewed like i'd understand some camp but this is just insane at this point

- i thought omar left but no :)))

- people are getting arrested i have no idea why idc

- killing that guy was only good thing this bitch did the whole season

- JOEL FOR GODS SAKEEEEE

- i don't care about a single character bye😭😭

#val watches stuff #elite live watch #might as well watch 13rw now or something

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myjustice · 6 months

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@lumintaru / furina sat in one of the front rowed seats within the opera house, one leg elegantly crossed over the other, eyes zeroed in & focused on the rehearsal of a play taking place on stage. yet again her invaluable knowledge of the theaters & arts was commissioned, a new rising troupe reaching out to her personally to supervise their rehearsals & provide them with her professional input. she accepted of course if they followed & respected the condition that she in no way, shape, or form would actually be taking part in the play. they agreed & thus far they have honored that clause so she hardly had anything to complain about...mostly. mostly if only because these people seemed to struggle with remembering their lines a little too much for her personal tastes & experiences. like right now, the one playing the antagonist forgot what she was supposed to say.

furina took a deep breath & sighed, lowering her head into a shake, purposely making it loud enough to where the troupe on stage became aware of her.

' again. ' she demanded & looked at them. she snapped her fingers at them. ' from the top & this time with scripts in hand. ' much to their disappointment it seemed because they believed themselves at the stage where they didn't need to have their scripts in hand. ' did i stutter? ' furina raised her voice slightly, startling them as a result. ' do you guys have a problem with this? ' she dared them to say that they did. however they were smart enough to shake their heads, as they should, because the one with the valuable experience was her. ' good, now go on. ' she shoos them to go do what she said. they all scramble backstage to look for their scripts.

' haha. ' she can't help but to find some humor in this.

#lumintaru #&. main. ( i'm tired... )#here you go!~

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cherrycheridarling · 3 years

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dap me up | t.h.

tom holland x actress!reader

warnings: somewhat smut? swearing and fluff

summary: during an interview for your new film, tom exposes your odd routine during intimate scenes and your favourite flower.

a/n: i got carried away. there's a lot going on in here. enjoy?

wc: 2.6k

"Hello! I'm Adrien Fox with Pop Sugar and we are here with stars of the new film 'Week Off', Tom Holland and Y/N Y/L/N!" Adrien introduced you and Tom to the cameras.

You and Tom gave little waves, "Hello!"

"Now, let's get right into it."

Adrien began asking generic questions while you tried your best to prevent any spoilers from leaving Tom's lips.

"Can you explain the movie a bit to anyone who is unfamiliar with the book or hasn't watched the trailer?"

Tom opened his mouth to speak before closing it, "I think I'll let Y/N do that."

Adrien laughed before you spoke, "Yeah, um. It's basically a comedy with a little rated R content. Some romance, but mostly raunchy and hilarious stuff. It follows the employees in this law firm and their vacation away from work. Lots ensues during said trip including relationships, arguments and too much drinking."

"And you guys worked with many famous actors and actresses in this film. Like, Jennifer Lawrence, Emma Stone, Anne Hathaway, Zendaya, Chris Hemsworth, Kevin Hart, Jonah Hill, Channing Tatum and The Rock. How was working with that many iconic people in the industry? You guys are obviously incredibly well known as well, but I imagine some of these people were your idols growing up." Adrien asked and you and Tom nodded.

"Yeah, uh, yeah. It was an honour. Absolutely amazing. Like, I never imagined I'd be making films, let alone films with stars like Kevin Hart and Emma Stone, you know? I'm just really proud of this one and I love everyone who we worked on it with." Tom gave his answer making you nod.

You cleared your throat, "Yeah, Zendaya is my best friend and she has been for years, long before this movie came along, but I still got so excited about working with her. Jennifer Lawrence is amazing, so hilarious. You put her and Chris into a room together and it's just comedy central." you laughed with Tom at the memory.

"We've seen in the trailer that you two share many intimate and – may I say – risqué scenes in this film. Was it hard to keep that level of professionalism and friendship while shooting those scenes?"

You let out a little chuckle at the question before Tom rubbed his chin and spoke, "Since Y/N and I are already good friends off screen, I thought it would be awkward filming those scenes, but Y/N does this weird handshake after every take and it wasn't awkward 'cause it just made me laugh."

Adrien laughed a little before speaking, "What handshake?"

You shook your head with a smile as you recalled the first time you ever did the handshake with Tom.

"Ready, Holland?" you had your pyjamas on and were making your way to your mark in the set of your character's hotel room.

Tom nodded before following you in, cameras and crew hot on his heels, "Ready as I'll ever be."

He was shirtless. A pair of loose fitting grey shorts hung low on his waist. His costume for this scene as Niko Sai.

A black silk slip hung carelessly off of your frame. Ending at the middle of your thighs, v-neck dipping low on your chest. Your costume for Kora Patel.

"We're going to take it from Tom's line; 'You want me just as much as I want you'. Okay?" you and Tom gave a thumbs up, "Action!"

"You want me just as much as I want you. Everytime you sneak a glance at me and you think I don't see, but I do because I'm already looking at you, Patel." Tom walked behind you, looking at you through the mirror in front of you. "I don't blame you, I am incredibly good looking." he smirked to himself.

"I'm guessing you couldn't fit your shirt over your ginormous head?" you rolled your eyes.

Tom's smirk only grew, "Is that a little bit of drool on your mouth, Patel? Who knew the Kora Patel had a thing for Niko Sai? Oh, the Lord is good."

You rested your hands on the sink and leaned forward, "This is a useless conversation, Sai." you turned to face him, "I feel nothing for you. Don't you get that?"

He stepped closer to you and cupped your face in his palm, "Yes you do, you just don't want to." his face showed pain, all humour drained from his character.

You shook your head with a dry laugh, "You're only trying with me because it's convenient. The company's quiet little Kora Patel, right?"

He took another step towards you, holding your hip in a tight grip, "That's a lie. Nothing about us is convenient."

You chuckled before your hand flew to grasp his hair, tangling your fingers in his curls. Your other hand pressed against his pec. Nails tracing patterns on his skin. Tom's breath hitched along with yours as his body automatically drew closer to you.

You tightened your grip on his hair, "It is convenient because you know I keep to myself. You know that I won't go running my mouth about how long you last or if size really does matter. You know that I'm an easy one to fuck," you pulled him closer, "And toss aside, right, Sai?"

"No." Tom swallowed, "You're wrong, Patel."

You shrugged, "I can give you what you want," you ran your thumb across his bottom lip, "Physically." your eyes met his with heavy lids, "Not emotionally. That's why you need Remedy. Not me." your lips brushed his as you spoke, your voice just loud enough for the mics to pick up.

He leaned in and nearly kissed you before you pushed him away slightly by his chest, foreheads still touching, "Let me kiss you." he whispered, sounding so desperate that you nearly abandoned the script and pulled him into you.

You rolled your lips between your teeth, "And if I don't?" you raised an eyebrow, challenging him.

"I'll leave you alone. If that's what you want, I'll go and have a useless one night stand with a girl who could never measure up to you." he pulled your hips flesh against his, "But if you let me kiss you. I promise to show you how much I mean it when I say that I'll spend all night showering every inch of your body with the love it deserves." he brushed his lips against yours again before bringing his mouth to your ear, "Just say the word, darling, and I'm yours."

Your heavy breaths were the only things that could be heard besides the small sound of shuffling behind the cameras. Your eyes flickered from his eyes to his lips before you closed the distance and pushed your lips to his.

Fighting for dominancy, teeth clashing, hands roaming. Unscripted groans falling from Tom's lips as you tugged on his hair, running your fingers along his scalp. His hands gripped the bottom of your thighs before you jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist.

"I still hate you." you breathed against his lips as he kissed the corner of your mouth.

You felt him smirk, "You sure have a funny way of showing it."

He carried you to the bedroom, gently laying you down and climbing on top of you, never breaking the kiss. His hands running down your sides, squeezing and rubbing. Your lips moving in sync until he pulled away only to attach his lips to your jawline, leaving slow but hard kisses down your neck, leading to your collarbone.

"Still hate me?" Tom mumbled against your skin.

You let out a breathy moan, "More than ever."

"What do you hate about me, Patel?" he lifted up the bottom of your black slip.

"E-everything." you fake gasped as he rolled his hips into yours.

He laughed dryly, "Everything, huh? The noises you're making say otherwise."

"You're such a dick." you moaned.

He smirked against your breast, "You're about to take my—"

"—Don't finish that fucking sentence, Sai."

Soft moans fell from your lips as you wrapped your legs around his waist again and pulled him closer to you. He groaned against your skin as the cameras picked up every noise, every movement, every kiss. You ran your nails down his back, surely leaving marks in its wake. His grip on your hips was almost punishing, as if he wanted there to be bruises the next day.

"And cut! Great work, guys. Ten minute break and we'll shoot it again."

Tom immediately got off of you and sat to the side of the bed before looking at you with concern, "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

You let out a laugh before shaking your head, "No, you didn't hurt me. Dap me up." you held out your hand and he stared confused.

"What you up?" he chuckled.

You smiled before lifting his hand and doing the movements for him, "Just like that." he finally got it down and smiled.

"You Americans are definitely odd." he teased.

You tossed him a wink as an assistant handed you a robe, "See you in ten, Holland."

"And that's the handshake. It's not really a handshake, more of a greeting. I just did it after our first intimate scene because Tom was acting weird and I didn't want things to be awkward." you explained with a shrug as Adrien and Tom laughed.

Tom nodded, "I thought I hurt her! So I asked if I did and all she said was 'dap me up', like, what?" he laughed with you.

"You guys have really great chemistry on and off screen." Adrien complimented making your cheeks heat up.

You nodded, "Thank you. It took a lot of work to break through his industrial ego." you joked with an exhausted sigh as Adrien laughed.

Tom gasped beside you, "I do not have an industrial ego!"

"Mhm, sure." you joked before reaching over and giving Tom's thigh a gentle squeeze, "I meant indestructible."

Tom huffed and crossed his arms, "This is bullying."

Adrien laughed again, "We have to talk about something," he started and you already knew what was coming, "Lots of fans have speculated that the romance on screen carries on off screen." he smirked.

You and Tom laughed nervously. Almost awkwardly.

The situations that you went through with Tom while filming definitely built your relationship with him and strengthened it. In all honesty, you didn't know if the feelings you had for him were reciprocated.

In Tom's head, he was adamant that you had no feelings for him beyond the big screen. Both of you were too timid to confess first. His feelings for you developed a few weeks into filming and since then have only gotten stronger as your friendship grew and you spent more time together.

The amount of times that this topic had been brought up today was tiring. Every answer was the same: "No, no. We're just really good friends."

You decided to joke around, "Honestly, I've asked Tom out at least twenty times and he keeps rejecting me." you pouted and sniffled.

Adrien let out a joyous laugh as Tom gasped and choked on air at your words.

"That is not true! She has never asked me out!" he defended himself.

You shook your head with a deep frown, "He's broken my heart too many times. This is probably my last time acting with him." you continued on with the joke.

Tom shook his head furiously, "That is one hundred percent false. If she had asked me out, we would already be dating." he let the words fall from his lips without a second thought.

You fought the instinct to snap your head towards him. His confession catching you off guard. You played it off with another pout and shrug. Unsure if he was joining in on the prank or not.

Adrien raised a suggestive eyebrow, "What I'm hearing is that Y/N just needs to ask you out and we have our new couple."

You fake gasped, "Why do I have to ask him out? He should be asking me out with a million roses and a horse drawn carriage." you flipped your hair over your shoulder.

"You don't even like roses." Tom laughed, "You like dandelions because they turn into those fluffy things that you can make a wish with." he remembered the information off of the top of his head, "And because it sounds like you're saying 'dandy lions' when you say their name."

You nodded with a smile, "A million dandelions then. And maybe I'll think about it." you joked with a yawn making the two men laugh.

"You heard it here first. We have a new couple on the rise. Tom just needs to find a million dandelions and a horse drawn carriage." Adrien laughed again.

Tom scoffed dramatically, "Find? I already have them in my garage, ready to go."

Adrien cheered as you felt a heat creep up your neck, "Did I say dandelions? I meant daisies."

"Got those, too." Tom smirked making you roll your eyes.

"Okay, we need to end this interview before Tom buys all the flowers in Berlin." you joked.

After the interview ended, you said your goodbyes to Adrien and the crew before you and Tom made your way back to your temporary hotel suite for the week of press junkets.

Tom walked you to your room, stopping at the door, "That was an odd interview." he chuckled.

You nodded, "Indeed. It was fun, though." you smiled and he returned the expression.

There was an awkward beat of silence before he spoke again, "T-that whole asking me out thing. You were kidding, right? Like, just a show for the cameras?" he laughed nervously.

You swallowed air before replying with a timid smile, "Y-yeah. Totally. Just for the fans." you nodded again, "Um, I should head to bed. More interviews tomorrow. See you in the morning." you gave him a little wave before turning to your door and pulling out your key.

He nodded with the smallest of pouts before turning on his heel and starting the walk back to his suite.

Just as your hand was turning the knob, Tom's voice called out to you again.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?" he spoke in one breath.

You bit your lip to conceal your smile, but it was no use. His question sparked a flame in your stomach that wasn't dying out anytime soon.

You turned with a bright grin, "I'd love to."

His features went from pure fright to relief in a matter of seconds, "G-great. I'll- uh, I'll text you the details. Goodnight." he gave you a little salute making you laugh.

"Sounds good. Night, Holland." you nodded your head before entering your hotel room.

You leaned against the door as soon as it shut. A euphoric glow radiating off of you. You were going on a date with Tom Holland.

Tom happily punched the air. Skipping down the hallway, a new found joy in his step. Chris Hemsworth walked out of his room and examined the gleeful boy.

"What's got you all smiley?" he chuckled.

Tom stopped and smiled, staring at the ceiling, "I just got myself a date."

Chris raised an impressed eyebrow before laughing, "You really are Peter Parker. Night, kid."

"Goodnight, Chris." Tom's smile never faded as he made his way back to his suite.

Not even ten minutes had gone by since he last spoke to you and he already missed you. He pulled out his phone and pressed on your contact.

Tom: sorry i didn't have any dandelions. hope you can make an exception x

Y/N: i suppose but the horse drawn carriage is a must x

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scuttling · 3 years

Text

Happy Accidents

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,300 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Art, Neighbor Hotch, Shy and Oblivious Hotch, Flirting, It's soo sappy I'm sorry, Oral sex, Unprotected sex Summary: Aaron's new neighbor is out of his league for so many reasons: she's young, beautiful, artistic, unique, free-spirited, the kind of person who turns heads when she walks down the street. It's no wonder he ends up falling in love with her. *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! Against all of his better judgement, Aaron is kind of creeping on his new next door neighbor.

He is absolutely the type of man, any other time, to approach a woman he’s interested in and introduce himself, look for a way to connect, some common ground, but this is no ordinary woman.

She is out of his league in so many ways: young, beautiful, unique, free-spirited, the type of person who turns heads when she walks down the street. There’s not a chance in hell she would look twice at an old, stuffy, monotone suit with a seven year old son and perpetual bags under his eyes. That’s not him feeling bad about himself, it’s just the way the world works.

The first time he saw her, she was getting on the elevator while he was getting off of it, and they’d bumped into each other; she was wearing a short, flowy dress, and she’d smiled at him, apologized, eyes sparkling, smelling like she’d spent all day in the sunshine. It was the only time since Haley he’d ever entertained the idea of love at first sight.

She keeps to herself most of the time, gives off the air of being really cool and mysterious; their paths have crossed a few times since then—at the bank of mailboxes downstairs, in the hallway they share, once during a false alarm fire alarm—but he enjoys watching her paint more than anything.

They have balconies next to each other, and one night when he was tending to his herb garden—Jack enjoys watching the plants grow, and picking the herbs, Aaron likes to eat them—he spotted her standing on hers, facing away from him, in cut off jean shorts and a baggy t-shirt, barefoot. She’d been painting the city, the sky, with the sunset glowing behind her like she was the work of art, and he actually felt an ache in his chest, the feeling of missing someone he’s never really met.

Since that night, he’s started taking his work outside in the evenings after Jack goes to bed, and sitting in near silence while she paints, hums—sometimes songs he knows, sometimes songs he doesn’t. The first time he goes out before she does, she says hello when she drags her easel out, so he starts to say hello to her when she beats him there, too, but that’s pretty much the extent of their interaction. One evening when Aaron and Jack are getting home from dinner, she is lugging a canvas bigger than she is through the hallway and Jack almost runs headfirst into it; when he looks up, he exclaims about how big it is, and pretty—it’s covered with colors, something abstract and cheerful, and even if he’d seen it on the side of the road, he would have just known that she painted it. (That may be a good indicator that he’s getting in a little too deep.)

“Wow, that’s the biggest painting I’ve ever seen! And so many colors,” Jack says, awed. Aaron puts his hands on his shoulders to keep him out of her way; they’re already bothering her enough, when she’s clearly trying to get that giant thing home.

“It’s pretty cool, isn’t it? I carry bigger pieces around at my studio, believe it or not,” she says to him, poking her head around the side to look at him.

“You have a studio?” His eyes are wide with interest; his favorite subject has always been art, as evidenced by their refrigerator, which is covered in drawings. She offers him an even brighter smile.

“I do! It’s not far from here; it’s called Live in Color. There’s a big rainbow painted on the side.”

“That’s so cool; it must be awesome to have your own studio.” Aaron loves that Jack seems to be so passionate about this, but the way they are obviously holding her up has him feeling awkward; he tugs gently on Jack’s backpack.

“That is really cool, bud, but we should let her go. I’m sure that’s heavy.” She smiles, shrugs.

“It’s no trouble. Hey, actually, we have some children’s art classes at the studio, and you look like you’d fit right in with the Green group—ages 7-9?” She looks up at Aaron, who nods. “Maybe we can talk dad into bringing you down sometime. We do painting, drawing, and crafts, it’s really fun.” She’s still looking right at Aaron, gives him a little wink, and he swears to god he gets butterflies in his stomach.

He’s a grown man. A federal agent. With butterflies. It’s insane.

“Oh man, dad, please? Can I take classes at her studio pleeease?” Jack tugs on the sleeve of his suit, and he nods, smiles down at him.

“Yeah, absolutely, Jack. We’ll go down and get more information tomorrow?” he offers, to both placate him and finally free the poor girl from the conversation; he nods excitedly, and she smiles, looks sweet, genuinely happy Jack is so excited to take the class.

“Cool, I look forward to seeing you guys there. Actually, if you give me one sec, I can grab my card for you.” She passes them, carrying the canvas and looking effortless while she does it; she props it up against the wall to get her keys out, unlocks her door and heads in, pops back out with a business card in a vivid watercolor yellow. “It has the address and phone number for the studio on the front, and I put my cell on the back; I figured it couldn’t hurt, considering we live next door to each other. Now you know who to call if you ever have an art emergency.”

He takes the card from her fingers, flips it over just to see the handwritten name and number; he knew her script would be lovely, and it is, easy and flowing and natural. It suits her. He tries not to grin, or flush, or otherwise be awkward about the fact that she just gave him her phone number, however innocently.

“Thank you. We’ll see you tomorrow.” They turn to head for their apartment, and she clears her throat; he smiles a little, turns back, and she’s leaning casually up against the canvas with her arms crossed.

“You know my name now. What’s yours?” She’s just being polite, but he gets the goddamn butterflies again.

“Aaron.” She smiles, something beautiful and a little wild.

“Okay, Aaron. See you outside.” From then on, most of their free time, be it evenings or weekends, is spent at the studio. Aaron isn’t the only parent who sticks around—it’s an art class, not a daycare, he doesn’t feel right just dropping Jack off and leaving him there—and he’s also not the only parent, it seems, who is aware of his beautiful young neighbor.

“She’s incredible, right?” another dad says to him one evening, over by the coffee. Aaron looks him over briefly—it’s a job hazard, he sizes up everyone, but he already has a weird feeling about this guy. “I’ve been bringing my kid here for a month just to look at that little ass running around. My wife just thinks our daughter is just really into art.” He says it with a laugh, like that’s a ridiculous concept. Aaron feels himself start to boil.

“You shouldn’t be disrespectful. She’s doing a great thing here, for the children; she’s not doing it for you to ogle her.” He feels a little hypocritical, because he is also looking, but not like this guy. He knows guys like this. He puts away guys like this.

He glances over at Aaron, looking a little taken aback that someone actually commented on his behavior, then rolls his eyes.

“She doesn’t need you to defend her honor, buddy. She wouldn’t run around here in those overalls if she didn’t want us looking. It’s job security.” She’s wearing the overalls tonight, denim shorts with one of the straps unhooked, a t-shirt underneath, but it’s not as if she’s performing a striptease. She just looks like an artist, covered in drips of paint, smiling as she looks at the kids’ pictures over their shoulders. Aaron really, really hates this guy.

“In my experience, women usually dress for themselves; they probably have pockets, easier to keep things at hand that she may need, and it’s warm in here, so she’s likely dressing for comfort. She’s certainly not dressing for you.”

As if she can sense the tension, she looks over at them, flicks her eyes over Aaron, then the other guy, and walks over with a soft smile on her face.

“Hey, Aaron, Jack really wanted you to see what he’s working on.” She reaches out a hand, wraps it around his wrist and guides him over to Jack’s table. “I figured I’d save you,” she says when they’re out of earshot. “That guy sucks. He’s always saying creepy things to me and Alaina.”

“You should ask him to leave if he makes you uncomfortable,” he says, looking down at her with worry. “I can do it.” She shrugs.

“I would, but his daughter really does enjoy the class, and it’s not fair to her that her dad’s disgusting. It’s nothing we can’t handle.” She squeezes his wrist lightly. “Thanks, though. Hey Jack, show dad your project.” He peers over his shoulder, and it’s a pink and orange skyline, much like the one he saw her painting that first time on the balcony. “I asked the kids to paint my favorite thing today, and that’s sunset.”

“I saw you painting this one night,” he says, and then he feels abruptly like an idiot. She just smiles at him though, nods.

“Yeah, I’m a sucker for a beautiful sunset. It makes you feel like, just because the day ends, it doesn’t have to mean things are over; it’s just one of life’s beautiful natural transitions. And the colors are to die for: peach, coral, jasmine, rose, tiger’s eye.” He finds himself unexpectedly touched by her description, smiles softly to shake himself of the emotions.

“The way you see the world is extraordinary. To me it’s just kind of… orange.” She returns his expression, but softer, and squeezes his wrist again; he didn’t even realize she was still holding it.

“Sounds like you need some art in your heart. I give lessons for adults, too; you could even come over and paint with me on my balcony, some time. Special neighbor privileges.”

The thought of being with her on her balcony while she paints is almost overwhelming, which he finds funny, considering he currently sits no more than twenty feet away. There is an intimacy about it, while they both do their work in the cool, quiet breeze, but standing like this, close enough to touch, with the late day sun on her face while she talks about colors… he’s not sure he could handle it without falling in love.

She pats him on the back, moves on to another child, and he tells Jack what a great job he’s doing; his face is lit up, so happy, and regardless of the neighbor, he’s glad they stumbled upon this hobby.

When they pack up to leave, the jerk from earlier comes up to him, leans in to speak in a hushed voice. “You should have just told me you were fucking her. I would have backed off.” He blinks, but the guy and his daughter are walking out the door before he finds himself able to do more than that. About a week later, he goes over for that lesson almost by accident. Jack is at Jessica’s for the night at his request, and Aaron was planning to order takeout and have a paperwork cramming session, but when goes out onto the balcony, phone in hand to place an order, his neighbor is standing on hers like she’s waiting for him.

“Hey. I saw you don’t have Jack; I made some pasta with vodka sauce, if you’re hungry. I always prepare too much.” He sets his phone on the table, walks over to the railing to get a little closer.

“Uh. Sure. I have fresh basil growing here; trade?” She smiles, nods.

“Yeah, sounds delicious. I’ll be right back.” She ducks inside, returns a few moments later with two dishes of steaming, saucy pasta, sets one down on her table and gets right up against her railing, hands the other over to him across his. “That one’s for you,” she says, handing him an orange plate, and he sets it down, picks a few good looking leaves from his basil plant and tears them up, drops them on top. “And this one’s for me.” She reaches, holds a green plate over the gap between their porches, and he adds some basil to it before she pulls it back, takes a deep sniff. “God, it smells so good and fresh. Thank you, Aaron.”

“Thank you, it looks great.” He goes to sit at his table with it, but she scoots her chair closer to the railing, closer to his balcony, so he does the same. They make easy small talk while they eat, mostly about Jack, a little about her studio and his work.

“FBI, huh? I can definitely see that, with your suits, and your… neutrals.” She cringes when she says it, and it makes him laugh.

“I’m sorry I can’t wear paint covered overalls to the office,” he teases, and she shoots him a playfully affronted look, grins.

“You love my paint covered overalls—and for the record, you’d look great in them. You should find a pair. Preferably not black.” He flushes a little at that, but she doesn’t notice, just finishes up her pasta with a sigh of contentment. “That was so good, thanks again for the basil.”

“You’re welcome; thanks for feeding me something other than the takeout I planned to have.” He stands up, gestures to his apartment. “I’ll wash the plate and then hand it back over.”

“Why don’t you just bring it over and come paint with me for a little while? If you want,” she tacks on, and for the first time she seems a little nervous. “I’m not trying to be pushy, I just think it would be fun.”

It’s not that he doesn’t want to; it would be amazing to watch her paint up close and personal. He’s just also afraid he’ll pass the point of no return if he does it, and he can’t handle any more heartache. He only very recently got to a place where just waking up in the morning no longer causes him agony.

It’s the look on her face, though, soft and sweet and open, that makes his decision for him.

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.” She grins.

“I’ll unlock the door.”

She’s dragging out her easel when he walks through the door; her apartment is stark white walls with vibrant furniture, artwork, canvases propped up against every bare spot along the wall, paints and brushes and charcoal and pencils on every surface. It’s exactly what he would have expected, warm and lived-in and comforting, very unlike the mostly black and gray interior of his own apartment. She smiles when she sees him.

“Hey! Can you grab that tray of paint on your way out?” she asks, and he picks up what looks kind of like an ice cube tray filled with many different colors, carries it out to the balcony with him. She has a canvas propped up, a little larger than a computer monitor, and she’s gotten started, but he can’t tell what it’s going to be just yet. When he hands her the paint she looks down at it, peers around the edge of the canvas like she’s comparing something. He’s so intrigued, curious about the way her mind works, what she’s thinking.

“What are you painting?” he asks when she picks up a brush, sets it down, picks up another. She smiles at him.

“Well, we’re painting that.” She points to the street, where there’s a rusty, pale blue antique car parked—he says that loosely, because it looks broken down—in the alley. Aaron chuckles softly.

“We’re going to paint that? It’s a little… grim.”

“Yes. It’s part of a series I just decided to create: ‘Beauty in the Ordinary.’” She sighs, and he’s surprised to see that her eyes are a little wet. She wipes the back of her hand over her eyes. “You know Bob Ross, right? Everyone knows Bob Ross.” He nods.

“Yes; the guy who paints the happy trees on PBS.”

“Right. I used to watch him growing up, and I vividly remember something he said once, about needing both darkness and light in life and in painting. ‘You have to have a little sadness once in a while to know when the good times come. I’m waiting on the good times now.’” She sniffles, exhales softly. “I’m waiting on the good times too. Sometimes looking at things like this car, and forcing myself to find something beautiful in it, is the easiest way to get through the day. Does that make sense?” He swallows hard when she looks up at him, because aside from Jack, she has been the lightest part of his life since the first time they passed each other on the elevator.

“Yeah, it really does.” She shoots him a soft, slightly sadder smile, and then explains about the paints a little, shows him the difference in the brushes, lets him feel the weight of them, the textures of the bristles.

She starts painting the car—the background is mostly finished—and he’s more than happy to watch, to hear her talk about her process. She asks if she can use his forearm to mix paints, and he turns it over, wrist up, tries not to smile too hard when she puts some dark blue on him, then white, mixing them and then comparing them to the car on the street. He looks down at her, the concentration on her face, the softness in her eyes, and is met with the sudden desire to brush a line of paint over her nose and make her laugh and kiss her breathless.

“Okay, your turn,” she says when she’s about halfway done with the car. She puts her hands on the backs of his arms, pulls him in front of the canvas so she’s between him and the railing. “You’ve been watching me, so you know what to do.” He has been watching her, but not necessarily for her technique, so he’s a little nervous; he dips the brush in the blue paint but hesitates to make a stroke. “I have faith in you, Aaron. Here.”

She wraps her fingers around his hand, guides him toward the canvas, and together they make a wide, curved line, rounding out the bumper. It doesn’t look half bad.

“It gets easier once you understand the relationship between specific paint, specific brushes, and your hands,” she says softly, and she helps him paint another line. “Are you having fun? You look stressed,” she teases, and he makes it a point to relax his face.

“I’m having a lot of fun,” he says, looking down at her; they make eye contact for a long moment, and she leans a little closer, and he leans a little closer, and then he accidentally dabs a blob of blue onto the canvas. He pulls back, grimaces, deflates. “I made a mistake. You can’t erase paint, right?” She laughs softly, takes the brush from his hand.

“No, you can’t erase paint, but as Mr. Ross would say, ‘There are no mistakes, only happy accidents.’” She gets her fingers close to the tip of the brush, makes a few quick movements, then grabs another brush, dips it in green. When she pulls back, there is a little blue flower growing out of a patch of grass where his blob used to be. He exhales, a little amazed.

“If only the mistakes we make in life were that easy to fix,” he says, and she nods.

“Yeah, that would be nice, but a lot of the time we find a way to turn them into beautiful things eventually. Are you willing to give it another shot?” He says yes, and she guides his hand for a while, then just hovers near it, then just instructs him on what to do. It’s dark before their painting is finished, and she carries it inside to dry, then takes him to the kitchen sink to scrub the paint off of his arm.

“Thanks for having me over; I had a really good time,” he murmurs as she dries his clean skin. She looks up, smiles softly, nods her head.

“I had a really good time too. I’m glad you came over; you’re welcome to join me any time.”

He says goodbye, heads home, looks at his stack of work with a groan, and brews a pot of coffee. He’s in for a long night, but he wouldn’t change his evening for anything. Life is much the same for the next few weeks: school and work, Jack’s art class at the studio a couple times a week, painting on the balcony on the weekend, with and without Jack. When Jack joins them for the first time, she pulls out a big box of markers and thick sheets of paper and he draws elaborate scenes while they talk and paint together. When Aaron makes mistakes, she’s never upset, just turns them into perfect little details that end up being his favorite parts of the paintings.

“What ever happened with your ‘Beauty in the Ordinary’ series?” he asks one evening while they’re painting some ocean waves. “Did I cause you enough trouble with the car to give up?” She looks down at the ground, looks a little shy, then shakes her head and smiles.

“No, you didn’t make me want to give up. I’ve been working on it at the studio. You’ll see it when it’s all done, I plan to hang them there.”

“Looking forward to it,” he tells her, and then Jack tugs on her shorts, shows them the picture he drew of the ocean, too.

Later that week, the team takes a case, and on the day he’s set to come home, Jessica drops Jack off at the studio with the plan that Aaron will pick him up when his flight lands. Due to some weather between where the team is and home, they get a little delayed; he doesn’t want to make Jessica head back out that way almost immediately after dropping him off, but he’s not sure who else he could ask to pick Jack up. It’s almost a stupid length of time before it dawns on him to call the studio.

“Life in Color, this is Alaina.”

“Alaina, hi, this is Jack’s dad—” He has his whole spiel prepared, but she cuts him off.

“Oh, sure, hang on a sec, she’s right here. It’s Jack’s dad,” she says, but it sounds further away, like she’s trying to cover the receiver. After a moment, his neighbor picks up.

“Aaron, hi. Jack said you were working.”

“Yeah, I was, and I’m supposed to pick him up after class, but our flight was delayed.” He doesn’t know how to ask for help with Jack; even with all the time they’ve been spending together, she still makes him a little nervous. Luckily, he doesn’t have to figure that part out on his own.

“Hey, that’s no problem. If it’s okay with you, I’ll just take him home with me. I’ll order pizza, we’ll draw, and you can just stop by when you’re home and pick him up.” He breathes a sigh of relief, runs a hand over the back of his head.

“That would be perfect. Thank you—I’ll owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me anything. Hanging out with your mini me is reward enough; he’s painting something special for you today, won’t let me see it.” That makes him smile, and he feels so warm at the prospect of picking him up from her bright apartment, seeing his artwork, her smile. After a long, draining day like this one, it’s exactly what he needs.

“I’ll have to remain in suspense until tonight, I guess. Can you let him know I said hi? And thank you, I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Of course. We’ll see you then.”

It’s late, after nine, by the time he makes it home. He doesn’t even take his bags inside, just drops them outside his door and knocks softly on hers. She answers with a smile, ushers him in, asks him if he’d like a drink and gets them each a beer.

Jack is in her room, asleep, so they have a little time to chat; she asks about his flight, his case, and he asks about the studio, and she gets a little shy when it comes to that topic, clears her throat.

“Um. I have Jack’s secret project, if you want to see it. He said I could show you.” He’s not sure why that would make her nervous—at least, until he sees it.

The background is all watercolors, a gradient of rainbow colors starting with pink at the top and ending with a soft purple at the bottom. Over that, in black marker, he’s drawn the three of them, with a big heart around them.

“Tonight’s theme was the thing that makes you the happiest, and he said he’s the happiest when the three of us are on the balcony together. It was… really, really sweet.” She looks up at him, brushes a hand over the crown of her head. “If I’m being honest, that’s when I’m the happiest, too.” He takes the picture from her hands, runs his fingers over it, and smiles, feeling a warm ache in his chest—not like before, not like losing someone he’s never really met, but like finding something he never really planned on.

“That’s when I’m the happiest, too,” he agrees, and when he looks up, she looks determined, like she does when trying to find just the right shade of paint. She takes Jack’s picture out of his hand, sets it on the counter, and then pulls him down by the lapels of his suit, kisses him long and slow. His hands move to her waist, keeping her close, and eventually she pauses for breath, looks at him again, and then wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him some more.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the first time I saw you—tall and dark and serious, striding out of the elevator. So intriguing, mysterious,” she breathes when they separate again. “I wanted to know everything about you.”

“Are you kidding?” he asks, huffing a laugh. “I’m boring, but you are so vibrant, so full of life; I felt like you were everything I wasn’t, and I wanted to know you so badly.”

“You know me now; would you like to keep getting to know me?” It’s one of the easiest questions he’s ever been asked; he nods, and she beams, and he lifts her into his arms and carries her to the couch, drapes himself over her while she leans back against the cushions, pulling him closer.

They make out like neither of them have a care in the world—god, how long has it been since he’s made out with someone?—her fingers scraping through his hair, his hands on her bare waist when her shirt rides up, and she’s in the process of pushing his jacket off his shoulders when they hear a sound from the other room that startles them apart. Jack.

“I’ll go check on him,” Aaron says, and when he goes into her room Jack is still snuggled up on her bed sound asleep. It looks like some canvases fell over, though, and he stoops to pick them up, then spots the car they painted together. He turns and she’s right behind him, skids to a stop. “I thought you said these were at the studio?”

“They were,” she says, and she looks nervous again. “But I changed my mind about hanging them there. They felt too personal.” He runs his hand over the car and sees where she’s coming from; this one feels personal to him, too.

“Can I see the rest?” he asks. “Only if you want to show me them.”

“You’re the only one I want to show them to,” she says with a soft smile, and she grabs a few more canvases, carries them into the light of the living room. “Beauty in the ordinary, remember.” He remembers, could never forget.

She turns one over, and it’s a kitchen sink, and in the kitchen sink is an orange plate with a fork resting on it—like the plate she’d given him with the pasta on it. She turns one over and it’s a man’s hand, holding a paintbrush, with pale blue paint on his forearm. The next one is a little herb garden on a balcony; the next one is a view from above, of a sandy haired boy with markers all around him. The last one is an open elevator—ripe with possibilities.

When he looks up at her, she’s got tears in her eyes, and one slips down her cheek.

“So, I think I’ve found my good times.” She smiles through her tears, and he takes her face in his hands and kisses the salt from her lips. “I love you,” she says when he pulls back to wipe her face with his sleeve, and he kisses her softly, again and again, and tells her he loves her, too. The next weekend, Jack is at Jessica’s for a sleepover, and Aaron has been enlisted to help with an art project. He walks next door, knocks lightly, and enters the living room; he is met with a very deep, passionate kiss and a smile, and instructions to help move the furniture out of the way.

“I’m really curious what kind of art requires this much floor space,” he says, shoving her couch back against the wall, and she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, a move he has been unable to resist since she did it the first time they had sex. She knows it’s a weakness, exploits it, and he loves every minute of it.

“You’ll see, but I promise you’re going to like it.” When they clear the floor, she grabs a large, rolled-up fabric canvas and lays it out in the middle of the room, then drops three bottles of paint—one is yellow (jasmine), one is orange (peach), and one is kind of pink (coral? He’s still not sure.)—onto it. “You can obviously say no if you want, but I wanted something over my bed with the sunset colors, and I found this…” She steps closer to him, runs her hands down his chest, guides him down for a kiss so delicious he loses his train of thought. “It’s sex art; we put the paint on the canvas, and on ourselves, and… you know, go at it. What do you think?”

He thinks he really, really loves art now, even more than he thought possible.

“So we have paint-covered sex and then you just hang it on the wall? Like regular art?”

“Yep, I got the supplies I’ll need to hang it; letting it dry will probably take the longest. I figured we could shower while it’s drying, maybe go for round two, if you’re up for it.” She moves her hand to his waist, slips it inside his shorts, and he pulls her closer to his body. “Are you up for it, Aaron?”

That is an understatement.

Undressing happens extremely fast, because this is really sexy and they’re kind of in a phase where they can’t keep their hands off of each other anyway. She pulls her hair up onto the top of her head to try to minimize the amount of paint in it, and then she pours paint on the canvas, turns around and drizzles some on his back and tells him to lay down.

“I think we should probably change positions often so we get a lot of motion on the canvas; I apologize to your old knees in advance,” she teases, but she soothes the sting of her words by pouring paint on herself and then laying between his legs and licking at his dick. “Do some stuff with your hands; I want to see those big handprints on my wall,” she murmurs, and he groans, puts his palms down in the paint and drags them through it.

She leans up a little, sliding her knees through some yellow paint, sucks him fully, deeply into her mouth for couple of minutes, and then stretches forward and puts an orange hand right in the middle of his chest; the look in her eyes is playful, and he reaches out with one finger, hooks it under her chin, and guides her off and up so they can kiss.

“Your turn,” he says with a smirk, and then he gets her onto her back and ducks between her legs, hopes she doesn’t grab for his hair like she usually does. He rubs his pointed tongue over her clit, waits for the mmm it always elicits, and looks up at her, covers each of her breasts with a paint-covered palm and squeezes. “Leave handprints for me,” he leans up and reminds her, kissing her stomach, and she plants her hands, then presses up and grabs his shoulder, smearing pink down his back. “Oh, you wanted more of that?”

“Don’t tease me, the paint will dry,” she whines, and he spreads her thighs wider with his elbows and licks her pussy quickly, until she’s squirming against the canvas and panting for more. “Come here, come here.”

He’s not ready for that, though, paint or not, wants her to come from this; he takes his hands off of her, dips them in the paint again and presses down, then puts his hands under her ass and brings her closer so he can fuck her with his tongue, quick and deep and slick.

“Aaron, Aaron, god.” She slides her hands down his arms, over his neck, digs her nails in when she comes moaning like music.

While she catches her breath, so gorgeous, she sticks her arms out like she’s making a snow angel, and he catches her while she’s off guard and turns her onto her stomach, puts his hands on the smears of paint he’s already left on her ass, and slides inside.

“Oh my god; I was trying to impress you with this sexy art project, but you’re rocking my world.” She’s breathless, pressing back into his thrusts and painting with her entire body. God, he loves her mind.

“You know I always take your projects very seriously,” he says, leaning forward to whisper in her ear, and she groans, laughs.

“Yes you do. From the side? Let’s lay diagonally.” They shift, and he hooks his chin over her shoulder, kisses her neck and huffs hot against her hair. “Hmm, love it like this,” she sighs, and she reaches back to press her hand to his hip, holding him while he moves inside her. “I love you.”

“Love you. I want you to finish on top of me,” he instructs with a wet kiss to her throat, and she nods against his lips.

“Yeah, next; I’m getting close.” A few more strokes and she gets up onto her knees, lets him lay back, propped up on his arms, and climbs on top of him; she kisses him slow and dirty and then runs her hands over him, sits back on his dick and glides up and down. “You wanna come like this too? I owe you a little world rocking,” she says with a flick of her tongue over his bottom lip, and he nods, squeezes her thigh.

“It’s the least you can do after making me move all the heavy furniture.” She rolls her eyes but kisses his chin, down his throat, and bounces harder on him, all delicious eye contact and moans. “Mmm. Just like that, baby, come for me.”

“Fuck. I will, I will.” She wraps a hand around the back of his neck, kisses him kind of rough and with lots of tongue, and then tips her head back and climaxes, clenches, wrings his orgasm out of him so quickly it’s almost jarring. “Oh, yes Aaron. So good,” she mumbles, and then he lays back, out of breath, and she slides out of his lap and lays beside him, out of breath too.

After a moment, she looks over at him, smiles, and swipes a pink fingertip over his cheek.

“This is the hottest thing I’ve ever done with anyone. I’m glad I got to do it with you.” He rolls on top of her, presses a kiss to her nose, and nods.

“Me too. You know,” he adds after a moment, “my bedroom could use some artwork, too.” She grins, wraps her arms around him and squeezes tight.

“You’re right; I think we should do yours in blue: liberty, that’s dark blue; periwinkle, that’s light blue; maybe steel gray, too.”

“You’re the expert. I’m just your paintbrush.” Her hands smooth up his back, and contentment washes over him like a warm breeze.

“Hmm. I like the sound of that. Want to get cleaned up?”

Cleaning up is almost as fun as making the mess, because they’re well and truly covered, and when the canvas dries, the sunset colors are almost as beautiful as the ones she used the first time he ever saw her paint. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #ask answered #anon #prompt

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darling-i-read-it · 3 years

Text

May Queen

Pelle x reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: being indoctored into a cult, murder, suicide, basically the plot of midsommar

Author’s Note: This can be seen as a sequel to ‘Hug’ or it can be read on it’s own!

yeah i was a little excited that you guys wanted this one lol I don’t know if you can tell. I’ve seen this movie enough, it was about time I did something within the events of the film. I also referred to the script so some of the lines will be familiar! I hope you all enjoy!

Requested: by anon, omg your pelle fic wow; would you consider doing a sequel to it that either takes place during the events of the film or just before they arrive at Pelle's commune?

Requested: by anon, I would LOVEEE to see a sequel with pelle cause that was a pretty good fix and I think he deserves a bit more attention, I personally would like to see something happen during the events of the movie just because I think it would be interesting to see but that's just me

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

“You think that Pelle asked you to go just because I’m going?” Dani asked, messing with her fingers. You were standing beside your bed, packing your suitcase slowly. Dani had already packed; she didn’t like to be unprepared.

“I don’t know...maybe he thought you would enjoy yourself more.”

“You’re acting like I’m the one who’s been dating him for these couple of months,” she told you. She was sitting on the bed, looking up at you. You nodded a bit, putting another pile of clothes inside.

“I know. I guess I’m just nervous. Meeting his whole group, going to where he grew up. I mean. I really like him. What if I fuck it up?” She shook her head and reached over to grab your arm. You looked her in the eyes.

“He really likes you. I can’t remember the last time Christian looked at me the way that Pelle looks at you.” Her eyes were honest. It made you feel bad. You should have gotten her to break up with Christian when you got the chance. But it was too late now; you were all going to Sweden.

“I suppose you’re right. Per usual.” She smiled weakly.

“Finish packing.”

=======

Pelle almost wanted to tell you about the whole thing. When he was on the plane, it crossed his mind to let you in on the whole scheme of things. The May Queen, the festival, all of it.

But he bit his tongue. That was tradition.

You arrived in Sweden well and took the trek up to where the first stop was. It was beautiful. Truly, it was stunning.

Pelle held your hand the whole way until you arrived at the first spot. There were people around the grassy hills, scattered around. Pelle got out of the car.

“These are other people from America that my friends have brought!” he exclaimed. He gestured to the many people around. You looked around, gazing at the nice afternoon. He grabbed your arm and started to drag you along.

“Hey, don’t rip it off!” you joked and he eased up.

“Sorry, I’m quite excited!” You smiled sweetly at his happiness.

“Me too!” He approached some people and started to introduce them when a man behind you started to yell. You turned around quickly, surprised at the loud noise. Pelle turned around too and his smile only grew.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he said and then ran over to the approaching man. They embraced each other, hugging tightly.

“Everyone, this is my brother Ingemar. Ingemar this is Christian, Dani, Mark, Josh and my girlfriend, Y/N,” Pelle said. Ingemar followed where Pelle pointed, shaking hands with everyone. He paid special attention to you, his smile getting wider. You could tell that he and Pelle were related.

“Nice to meet you all. This is Simon and Connie from London,” he said, gesturing to the others behind him. “Simon and Connie this is Pelle and...all the names I just remembered two seconds ago,” Ingemar said laughing. Simon and Connie said hello. “Perfect timing by the way.”

Ingemar pulled out a bag of mushrooms from his pocket. Your eyes went wide.

“We just took these five minutes ago. Haven’t even started feeling the effects yet,” he explained.

“Oh shit!” Mark said, happily.

“Do you all want to take it now or should we get settled in?” Pelle asked.

“Fuck it, let’s take it now!” Mark said. You weren’t too sure about that. You trusted Pelle and everyone of course but in the new environment...it rubbed you the wrong way. Thankfully, Dani turned to speak to Christian about it.

“I think I want to get settled in first.” Christian was about to speak but you cut him off.

“Me too. You guys go and have fun, we’ll keep each other company,” you said. Pelle turned to you.

“Are you sure? I assure you it’s safe,” he said in a soft voice. You smiled kindly and put a gentle hand on his arm.

“I know! I just wanna get settled. Dani and I can handle ourselves, I promise.” He gave you a longer look, just to check that you were alright and then nodded. You turned back to Dani who grabbed your arm desperately.

“Thank you,” she whispered. You nodded.

“No thank you.”

=====

It wasn’t until the next day, Dani’s birthday, that you were able to get on further. You and Dani played some card games that you had brought with you while you waited for the effects to wear off for everyone else.

Christian came over to sleep beside Dani, still high. Pelle came over to you and braided your hair and then unbraided your hair, making very long sentences that didn’t make sense to whisper in your ear.

But when you arrived at the commune it was bright and sunny. Pelle rushed around, hugging people and introducing you and the group to everyone. You were able to get some blankets to sit on the grass, while everyone got their things together.

There was a group of girls dancing around in circles, wearing all white.

“You should go join,” Pelle suggested, gesturing to you and Dani. She shook her head a bit.

“Oh no, I’m too scared,” Dani said sheepishly. You nodded in agreement.

“Maybe another time.” Christian stood up.

“Hey can I join…” he started turning to Pelle.

“You’re American. Just jam yourself in,” he said. Christian nodded and walked away. “I think I’ll join him,” Simon said and was quickly followed by the rest of the group except you, Pelle and Dani. There was a moment of silence as you watched them go.

“Hey, just real quick,” Pelle said, digging for something in his pocket. He took out two pieces of paper and handed them to you and Dani. You both opened them to reveal gorgeously drawn pictures of yourselves wearing flower crowns. “For you Dani, think of it as a birthday present. For you Y/N, I imagine it’s a thank you present.”

“Oh Pelle,” Dani said. “It’s beautiful, thank you.”

“Thank you for what?” you asked, brushing your finger over it. He smiled and shrugged.

“Just a thank you.”

“Well thank you for it,” you said. “I got Dani a new sweater. Christian forgot.” Pelle raised his eyebrow and you shared a look.

“I forgot to tell him...it’s my fault,” Dani explained. You shook your head.

“I tend to disagree,” you muttered. You folded the picture back up and put it in your pocket. You put your head on Pelle’s shoulders “But I think Christian is rude.”

“Perhaps you are too judgemental,” Pelle mused. “But I tend to agree with you regardless.” You and Dani laughed a bit. “We should probably go and catch up with them in case they get lost.”

=====

You got settled in in one of the large buildings, plenty of beds against the walls. Pelle was on the bed to your right while Dani slept on the one to your left.

“All right, beauty rest! Tomorrow’s a big day!” Pelle announced. You had one of the books you had brought open on your lap but you looked up at him.

“What’s tomorrow?” you asked.

“First of the big cerinomines,” he said mysteriously.

“So you’re just going to be weird and cryptic?” Josh asked, laughing a bit. Pelle pauses and then took Josh's notebook, writing something inside. You made an attempt to look but it was not a word that you recognized.

“What’s that?” Christian questioned. Pelle shrugged and laid down in his bed. You faced him, on the bed beside him.

“What is it?” you whispered to him. He gave you a teasing smile.

“It’s hard to explain.”

“I will come over there and tickle it out of you,” you threatened. He chuckled and turned around so he wasn’t facing you. But he put his arm back behind him, reaching across the space between your two beds.

You grabbed it and rubbed his knuckles anxiously.

=====

There was a very odd breakfast the next day but you tried not to judge. You wanted to really appreciate Pelle’s culture and understand it. He had admired you for your understanding and he knew you would make an effort.

That’s why he chose to love you.

You were the obvious choice.

After that you walked out to a cliffside where most of the people were already out and lined up. You were curious to find complete silence. Everyone was silent as it happened and you were able to do nothing but watch as these two elderly people stood up on top of the cliff.

When the first person, a woman, jumped, you grabbed Pelle, putting your hand in front of your mouth. He grabbed you and wrapped his arms around you but it didn’t change the look of serenity on his face.

Simon was standing next to Ingemar yelling as the man approached the cliffside.

You had your face in Pelle’s arms. You were shaking.

“It is the way of life,” he whispered to you. Simon was still screaming. Another elder was talking to him and you could feel Pelle want to move toward them but he stayed beside you. “It is our way of recycling them and their gifts.”

You pulled away from him and shook your head a bit. You met Dani’s eyes. She wasn’t showing much emotion other than shock. You didn’t blame her.

“They’re dead,” you whispered. He nodded and put his hands on your upper arms.

“And it is an honor to have died that way.” You weren’t sure how to feel. You wanted to be understanding, to try and understand him and his ways. You would want that from him. But he should have prepared you more for that.

You walked over to Dani and walked beside her on the way back to the houses.

=====

“I’m leaving,” Dani said.

“I don’t blame you.” She was already packing a bag. You sat down on your bed, head in your hands. You took a deep breath and leaned back on the bed.

“Are you coming with me?” she asked. Her voice was shaking. She was clearly shaken up by all of this.

“No,” you muttered. “I’m not leaving Pelle yet.”

“Not even after that?” Her voice was quiet but it was urgent. You shook your head a bit.

“I just have to talk to him. He should have warned us more, of course but....it’s what he’s been raised to believe is normal. I don’t think I should think of it as a bad thing.”

“We just watched people die!” You stood up off the bed and put your hands on your upper arms, steading her.

“You can go home and I will not blame you. In the slightest. I just think I should stay longer,” you told her. She nodded solemnly. She took a deep breath in through her nostrils and nodded again.

=====

Before bed that night Pelle approached you. You were standing outside of the bed house, leaning against it to try and clear your thoughts. You almost completely ignored him but in the end you locked eyes with him as he approached.

“I’m sorry I didn’t give you adequate warning,” he said sympathetically. He grabbed your hand and held it. “I thought you would understand but I know now that it was wrong of me to assume.” You shook your head quickly.

“I understand it was just...a shock,” you muttered. He nodded and kissed your forehead softly.

“You are completely safe here. I want you to know that.” He looked you in the eyes when he said it. You believed him. You nodded back and gestured to the house.

“Let’s get some shut eye huh? And maybe warn me if we see another person...you know.” You made a slicing gesture across your neck. He laughed gently and nodded, placing a hand on the small of your back and leading you inside.

=====

Dani walked up to you, still distraught but less so. You were standing beside Pelle the next day as he kneeled in front of the ground picking some vegetables. You turned to her as she walked up, ready to handle whatever she was about to throw at you.

“Hey,” you said, taking the step away from Pelle and toward her.

“Hi. Did you see Simon left without Connie?” she asked. You raised an eyebrow and shook your head.

“Seriously? What a dick.” She clearly felt a little bit off put by it so you lowered your voice. “You think it’s weird?” Dani nodded a bit.

“I don’t know...it’s a little weird. They seemed so close.” You nodded. They did seem close.

“I don’t know...something to keep in mind I suppose.” She nodded quickly in agreement.

======

Dinner that night was simple pastries. You were pleased. The last food they had given you wasn’t your kind of taste. You sat between Pelle and Dani again.

“Have you seen Connie?” Dani asked you quietly. You shook your head.

“Excuse me but I know what happened,” a man sitting beside Mark said. “Her boyfriend called the landline from the train station. She begged us to drive her so we took her down to the station.” You nodded slowly, glancing at Pelle. He shrugged, seemingly in agreement.

“Why would Simon leave without her?” you asked quietly.

“I can see you doing that,” Dani muttered at Christian. You wanted to laugh so you turned to Pelle, sneaking a smile. He shrugged with a smile on his face also.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Christian asked.

“Nevermind.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Pelle said quietly, so only you could hear. You ate a bite of the pastry proudly.

“You’re damn right.”

======

One of the important books was stolen that night. They announced it at breakfast.

“Where is your friend Josh?” one of the elders asked, after breakfast. You, Christian, Dani and Pelle all stood in front of the two elders, caught like a deer in headlights.

“I know. We have no idea,” Christian said.

“He and your other friend disappear in the same day. You understand how that looks.”

“Yes obviously, but we swear to you we are not a part of this,” Christian said. Dani shuffled a bit.

“We did see Mark go off with one of the girls last night,” she said.

“Which girl?”

“Inga,” Pelle said.

“But Mark wouldn’t have done this. Josh, though, he came to bed with us, and when we woke up, he was gone. And if he did take that book, I just pray you understand we do not identify as friends of his, or collaborators, or anything. I certainly don't vouch for him and we'd be so embarrassed to be connected to this in any way,” Christian explained.

“I feel responsible,” Pelle said. The elders nodded a bit.

“Well you and Odd can go looking. Perhaps you can redeem them,” one of the elders said. You didn’t want Pelle to leave. You didn’t like it when you were separated here. You believed him when he said you were safe but...it was still a little odd. “You two will be going with the women for the day’s activity,” he said to you and Dani. “And Siv asks to see you in her house,” she said to Christian.

You glanced at Pelle as he left. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it, almost saying ‘do well!’.

=====

You and Dani got dressed in white shirts with flower crowns. It made you a tad bit nervous but at least you had her.

She gestured to the drink they were handing out. Cups had been given to both of you to drink it.

“Can I ask what’s in this?” Dani asked one of the girls.

“It’s...tea for the dancing competition.” You raised an eyebrow but took a glass anyway. Dani looked back at you and you shrugged.

“I’ll beat you,” you muttered.

“Try me.”

You both took drinks of the tea.

Your head became fuzzy the second it hit your throat. You hadn’t taken those drugs before hand and you almost didn’t want to do it now but it was already done. Your feet were moving along with the girls, tossing bodies left and right it felt like.

You lost sight of Dani very quickly.

You were running and jumping and laughing until the elder lady yelled to stop then you kept dancing.

Dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing.

Dancing.

It seemed to go on forever. Your mind was hazed, your head hurt, your glances were so quick they gave you whiplash. You were smiling brightly when they announced they were down to the final eight. You finally saw Dani again, in the eight with you.

All of the fallen dancers had sat off on the side. You saw Christian, looking hilariously out of place. And Pelle.

Your heart swelled with love for Pelle. You could barely know anything else for a moment as you stared at him.

You couldn’t see it but in that moment, Dani believed she learned how much she hated Christian.

Then more dancing.

People were speaking and then it was just you and Dani, holding hands, dancing around in a circle, tired and out of breath. She stared at you and a smile went over her face as she held your hand.

And then she tripped. You stopped dancing and someone ran up to you, putting their hands on your shoulder.

“It’s over?” you asked.

“You are our May Queen!” they yelled. You were still hazzed. Each face looked the same. The people running up to you were strangers but you felt nothing but warmth for them. They placed a different flower crown atop your head.

Pelle ran up to you smiling brightly.

“Wow! May Queen, my love!” he said, giving you a strong kiss, both his hands resting on your cheeks. You were smiling brightly and then he was gone. You didn’t want him to go.

They carried you on a platform to a dinner table where you sat at the head, Dani beside you and Pelle on the other side as usual.

One of the elders stood at the end of the dinner.

“Now it is traditional for the May Queen to bless our crops and livestock. And after the luck you just inherited from that salt herring, we should all be doubly encouraged.” You looked around nervously.

“Can Pelle come with me?”

“No. The Queen must ride alone.”

You were starting to come to your own and realize how crazy this all was. How did you get here? How would you get out of here? You found yourself hoping you didn’t get out of here though. This felt like home. Some form of home. As you walked to the carriage you saw a glimpse of the pride on Pelle’s face.

It made you immensely happy.

======

They made you do a ritual in Swedish and you did your best with the limited knowledge of the language you knew. You went to Siv’s house, where she blessed you. You wondered where Dani was. You hoped she was alright. You should have let her become the May Queen. You should have let her win, just so you knew she was alright.

The women left you alone for only a moment where they ushered Pelle into the house with all of the beds where you were. He was still smiling that bright smile as he rushed up to you, hugging you tightly to him.

“You have no idea the amount of honor and pride you have brought to me. I am so very proud of you,” he said, cupping your cheeks. You tried not to get too flustered with your smile in return.

“So I get my picture up on that wall?” you questioned. He nodded pleasantly.

“Yes you will!” He kissed you passionately and you let him, allowing him to dip you a bit. “And you will be allowed to stay here, with the family.”

You didn’t even react. You didn’t feel the need to.

“With you?”

“Yes of course. You will be mine and I will be yours.”

You nodded happily.

“Where is Dani?” you asked.

“She is alright, she’s with the other women preparing. She is also going to stay.” You wanted to laugh of joy with that. “It is time for the final of the ceremonies,” he told you. “You will finally be able to give Christian what you think he deserves, if you wish it.”

He placed an even larger flower crown atop your head.

“And a dress as well, to fit a Queen.”

He gestured to the large flower dress in the room you hadn’t even noticed. He kissed you once more.

“It is time for the final ceremony. I’ll help you put on the dress. Are you ready?” he asked. He looked at you patiently. You nodded.

“Yes, I am.”

#pelle x reader #midsommar imagines #pelle imagines

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pastelwitchling · 3 years

Text

Michael tells Alex about the Dictator.

Michael was leaning forward on his knees, staring at the flames of the bonfire. He was slowly losing his mind, he knew it, but that didn’t make him pick up his phone and call Max for guidance or Isobel to apologize. He didn’t call Maria to ask if she was having any visions about his future, or Valenti to look him over for a burn mark he might’ve miraculously missed.

Mr. Jones had told him all he’d needed to know, and now the rest of the world felt muffled, like there was cotton in his ears. He didn’t want to talk to his siblings, he didn’t want his friends’ advice or insight. He didn’t think he could ever move away from this bonfire again, watching the flames taunt him. Because they knew they couldn’t hurt him, and that it was torturing him.

When a car drove up to the junkyard, Michael was flooded with memories of another late-night visitor. He looked up, traitorous hope climbing his throat before he could help it. When he saw Isobel behind the wheel, his heart sagged back to the bottom of his stomach, and he returned to staring at the fire.

It was frightening how, even after a year apart, just the thought of the airman cut through his haze like a knife.

Isobel stepped out of her car and stood across the bonfire, her arms crossed. She sighed. “I think you should talk to Alex.”

Michael’s eyes flickered upward. Isobel looked shaken, and the brotherly part of him wanted to be protective and concerned, but the bigger part couldn’t muster the will.

He offered a small, humorless smirk, the only kind he could manage, and held his still untouched beer bottle to his lips. “Pardon?”

Isobel wasn’t having it. She came to stand in front of Michael, blocking his view of the flames. “You’re not okay,” she said simply.

“Would you be?” he answered without looking at her, the cruelty evident in his tone.

“I don’t know why you’re listening to Jones of all people,” she tried. “You’re the one who said we shouldn’t –”

“Is,” Michael cut her off, shutting his eyes. “Not now, okay?”

Isobel said nothing for a moment, then huffed. She grabbed the chair nearest Michael, pulled it closer, and sat down, facing him. “You need to talk to Alex, Michael. You’ve . . . you’ve never listened to anybody like you listen to him, and he’s smart. He’ll tell you what I already know, and . . .” she shook her head. “Maybe you’ll believe him.”

Michael said nothing. He said nothing as Isobel sighed, kissed his temple, and told him she’d come by again in the morning. He said nothing as she got in her car with a final plea for him to go see Alex. He said nothing as she drove away.

He said nothing because he couldn’t admit that he’d been terrified of this beyond anything else. Facing Alex again, after everything he’d done. But he wanted it. He wanted to see Alex so badly, and though he knew it might only push him further over the edge until he felt nothing at all, he also knew he would be worse off not seeing Alex at all.

When Michael dared ask himself what he wanted, the answer was clear; he didn’t want to see or talk to anybody, but he could manage just enough strength to talk to Alex. Only to Alex.

On his way to Alex’s house, he thought of all the ways he could explain what he was doing there, where to begin in what he’d discovered. But it looked like Alex had somehow known he was coming because he didn’t give him the luxury of working out a script in his head. Instead, Michael found him in his front garden, kneeling in the mud and pulling at weeds. He had one hand on the dirt beside a few roses, as if careful not to accidentally hurt them.

Michael pulled his truck to a stop, watching the ends of Alex’s hair stick to his skin with sweat, the way his brows pinched in concentration, but his hands worked gently. A lump formed in Michael’s throat. He thought about the things he’d said to Alex almost two years ago, and the way he’d made him feel.

“I don’t think we’re good for each other, Alex.”

“I like Maria, okay?”

“I’m saying no.”

Michael shut his eyes tight. What right did he have to talk to Alex now? He clenched his jaw and swallowed thickly. He started to turn the steering wheel when Alex glanced up and their eyes caught through the windshield.

Alex straightened and raised a hand in startled greeting. Michael hesitated. He should’ve driven away, escaped as quickly as possible, but he hadn’t seen Alex in a year, and only barely glimpsed him at the bus stop when he’d come back before he quickly turned away, unable to stand the sight of him and Forrest together. And he missed him. He missed him like he didn’t think he could ever miss anybody.

Seeing him now had Michael itching to be closer, to touch. Before he could tell himself it was a bad idea, he parked his truck. Alex pushed himself to his feet as Michael stepped out.

“Hey –” Michael started and stopped as Alex breathlessly pulled him in for a one-armed hug.

“Hi,” Alex said and started to pull away, but Michael kept a hand on his back, keeping him close for a few more seconds. He turned his face into his hair, breathing him in. He was so warm and felt so good, his soft strands tickling Michael’s cheek.

When Alex finally stepped back, Michael saw that he looked tired, but was smiling, his cheeks dusted pink. “I was going to come see you tonight.”

“Y-You were?”

“Yeah,” Alex dusted the mud off the hem of his shirt, but Michael’s hand was still on his waist. “We haven’t talked since I got back. I missed you.”

Michael let his hand fall and allowed himself to stay close. Just for another few minutes, before Alex found out the truth about him and pushed him away in disgust.

He forced a chuckle. “I’m flattered, Private.”

As Alex searched Michael’s face, his eyes narrowed, and his smile slowly dimmed. “What’s wrong?”

Michael’s brows furrowed and he was about to shake his head, to say nothing was wrong, then Alex pursed his lips and said, “That bad, huh?”

He tried for another chuckle, but it got caught in his throat and sounded weak to his own ears. “Alex, I don’t –”

But Alex was already dusting the dirt off his hands. Michael briefly noted the strange new ring on his finger. At his confused look, Alex smiled, “I’ll put some coffee on.”

Ten minutes later found Michael in Alex’s living room, two steaming cups of coffee on the table in front of them. Michael sat on Alex’s couch, while Alex took the bench in front of his keyboard. He had changed into his sweats and an Air Force t-shirt, and Michael kept alternating between fear of what he would say, studying every freckle on Alex’s face and neck, and ogling his strong arms. He was always toned, but it was evident he’d spent the last year working out.

“You look good,” he thoughtlessly blurted.

“And you’re stalling,” Alex said, blushing.

“I’m not,” Michael truthfully said. “You look really good.”

“Guerin,” Alex leaned in. “What happened?”

Michael met Alex’s eyes and felt his own burn, the plagues of his mind coming at him at once with the genuine care in Alex’s eyes. He wondered how many minutes he would have before that kindness turned to cruel satisfaction.

“Karma,” he said. “I . . .” he looked down at his lap, his fingers playing. “I think I know who my dad is.”

Alex’s eyes widened slightly before his captain’s training kicked in, and he schooled his expression to one of indifference. “Okay. Who?”

Michael shook his head. He whispered, “A monster.”

At the confused furrow of Alex’s brows, Michael launched into the story of everything Jones had told them. He thought it’d be impossible to speak at all, but Alex held his gaze and it gave him a strength he didn’t think would last outside these walls.

By the time he was done, he was pacing the length of the living room, and Alex watched calmly from where he sat.

“This guy might’ve chased my mom and Louise off our planet in the first place,” Michael raged, his heart racing. “My mom – my mom, Alex – made Max in a lab so she could use him.” A rough chuckle escaped his lips. “And all the crap I gave you because of Jesse –”

“Guerin,” Alex said gently. “Sit down. Please.”

Michael clenched his fists, and sat down. He shook his head, staring at his cold cup of coffee. “What do I do now?”

Alex raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

Michael looked up at him. “Alex,” he reminded him, “my dad’s a villain.”

“So is mine,” Alex sighed, taking their mugs to the sink. “It happens.”

Michael stared, and stood to follow. “Do you not get –”

“I get that this is freaking you out,” Alex said simply, and turned to face him. He leaned against the sink. “I get that you’re angry.”

“Angry?” he scoffed. “I’m a monster’s son!”

Alex raised a cool brow. “So?”

“So my parents are supposed to be heroes!” he slammed his fist against the wall, and all the furniture jumped a good foot before falling back down.

Alex looked unaffected, but when he spoke, his voice was soft. “I know.”

“My mom used Max! My dad destroyed everything!”

“I know.”

“Fire,” he breathed, “fire doesn’t hurt me, Alex.” He shook his head. “It feels wrong.”

Alex took Michael’s face in his hands. “It’s not.”

Michael opened his mouth on a silent sentence, whatever he was going to say next lost as Alex brushed his cheek with his thumb.

“I . . .”

Alex gently pulled Michael in against him, hugging his shoulders. Against the crook of his neck, he whispered, “I’m sorry your family’s more human than you wanted them to be.”

Michael shuddered. He tried to push Alex away, to get angry, but in his embrace all he could feel was the desperate need to be closer. He ended up grabbing Alex’s hips, his fingers curled tightly in the material of his shirt.

“Why don’t you hate me?” he demanded. “Yell at me, laugh, tell me I deserve this!”

Alex held him tighter and shook his head.

“Why not?” he urged through grit teeth, his eyes burning. “I do deserve it, Alex. I made you feel like crap because of your dad. I . . . I left you alone –”

“Shh,” Alex said softly, raking a gentle hand through Michael’s curls.

“Hate me,” he begged. “Please, get mad at me.”

“Am I monster,” Alex asked, and Michael stilled, “because of my dad?”

Michael was already shaking his head. “You’re my hero, Alex,” he said without missing a beat. “But –”

“And you’re mine,” Alex whispered, his lips brushing the bare skin of Michael’s shoulder where his shirt was pulled back. It made it very hard for Michael to think.

He opened his mouth to argue, to say something, but before he realized his vision had gone blurry, big fat tears were falling down his cheeks and onto Alex’s shirt. Alex held him even tighter.

“We’ll figure it out,” Alex said lightly, as if this was no big deal. As if he had no doubt in his mind the kind of person Michael was, the hero he was. “Everything’s fine, Guerin. I promise everything’s fine.”

Michael’s hands slowly came up Alex’s back, his fingers clawing through his shirt and into his skin, holding him back even tighter.

“I missed you, Alex,” Michael breathed, and buried his face in the crook of Alex’s neck. “I missed you so much.”

Alex chuckled softly. “I’m flattered.”

#alex manes #michael guerin #malex #malex fic #malex fanfic #malex fanfiction #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #malex angst #malex fluff #tyler blackburn #michael vlamis

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