#So you have to actually strategize and get outside your comfort zone

[alchemistdetective]

((The new event in Genshin is basically saying

"Oh Genshin's easy? FYI most of you actually suck in this game" to the players

and that makes me like))

#OOC #Alright so tl;dr: #New event is a battle event which has 4 battles per section #But here's the kicker #You can ONLY use trial characters they given out and nothing else #Your constellations are transferred over to the Trial characters to make things easier #But there is a character 'cooldown' so you can't just spam the same character #So you have to actually strategize and get outside your comfort zone #And the reaction among players are SO MIXED #Especially when the trial characters' relic sets are sub-optimal so you actually have to learn the characters' kits #You can't steamroll this and actually have to strategize somewhat #God whoever the people are saying 'Genshin events are too easy' are either really happy or really angry right now

[mrsluthordanvers]

Everything’s Different

Kara returns from the phantom zone, and some relationships just aren't the same as she left them 

Read on AO3

Being sent to the Phantom Zone was Kara’s worst nightmare come true. It had chilled her to the bone. Left her teeth chattering and her muscles aching, even after weeks being back on Earth under the yellow sun. The emptiness had wrapped itself around her, suffocating her, making her lose her way as she stumbled through the darkness, making her lose her grasp on reality.

It haunted her at night. Every time she closed her eyes she was back there, fighting to get back home, fighting for her family. Every night she woke up gasping, feeling small and scared, the noises of the city ringing in her ears. It felt just like when she first arrived on Earth. 

The Phantom Zone was her worst nightmare come true, and yet; sitting outside Andrea’s office waiting to be reprimanded feels like a close second.

Not only does Kara not have the Cat Grant article Nia had promised in order to cover for her sudden disappearance. She has to watch Lena sit in one of Andrea’s chairs with her high heels tucked underneath so she can curl up comfortably. One hand lazily looped around a glass of amber liquid as she laughs.

After days of lying alone on a stainless-steel bed under a yellow sun lamp hoping to have a chance to talk to Lena. Praying to Rao for the opportunity to tell Lena her last secret, one she didn’t even know she had until she was navigating the phantom zone alone, grasping to thoughts of her loved ones to make it through. The sight of Lena laughing with another woman, her hand gently squeezing Andrea’s, makes Kara’s heart clench.

She wishes she could slip away. Duck out of CatCo and avoid this situation altogether. But Kara knows that Andrea has already seen her. Just like Cat, Andrea’s office is strategically placed to give her the best vantage point – and put on the best show.

But this is one show Kara would rather not witness.

Kara’s thoughts are spiralling so rapidly now, that she’s missed Lena putting on her heels and walking in her direction.

“Kara?” Lena looks just as surprised to see Kara, she halts in the doorway as Kara stands so abruptly that she has to scramble to keep her notebook from hitting the floor.

“I didn’t know Alex- “Lena quiets as she glances over her shoulder before she steps forward, letting the office door close against her back.

“How are you feeling?” Lena asks so quietly it makes Kara want to rush to comfort her.

“Good.” Kara immediately responds, without giving much thought to the truth of it. Lena’s head tilts in a way that says she knows that too.

“Better.” Kara adjusts, with a slight shrug and a touch to the corner of her glasses.

They stand in silence for a moment, neither one willing to make eye contact and unsure where to go from here.

“I should go-“

“Would you like to-“

Both laugh awkwardly as they finally look at each other.

“Go ahead.” Lena offers.

“I was going to ask if you would like to have lunch with me? If Andrea doesn’t fire me that is.”

“Oh.” Lena pauses as she looks over her shoulder again, arms folding in front of her. “I actually have lunch plans with Andrea today.”

“Oh.” Kara nods aggressively, “Of course, maybe tomorrow? Big Belly Burger?”

For a second Kara thinks Lena looks guilty but it’s gone in a flash.         

“Andrea and I– “

“Right.” Kara waves Lena off not wanting to hear the rest, doing her best to ignore how her stomach rolls and her jaw clenches.

Lena turns quickly to give Andrea a wave through the window before she steps around Kara in a cloud of expensive perfume. “I’m really sorry Kara, but I have to go.”

Lena’s gone before Kara can mumble out her understanding.

Taking a deep breath, Kara steps inside Andrea’s office with a light knock.

“I’m not paying you to hide outside my office all day.” Andrea scolds as Kara steps inside. “Ms. Nal told me that you’ve been working on an article with Cat Grant?”

Kara opens her mouth, still unsure of what she’s going to say to get out of this predicament.

“Before you tell me another lie,” Kara tries not to squirm under Andrea’s gaze. “I’m not going to ask where you’ve been. You’re a popular writer amongst our subscribers so I’m not going to make the mistake of firing you... Yet. But you will have to make this up to me. So, for the next month you are taking over the How-To column for Andy. And I don’t want to hear complaints.”

Kara jerks her head understanding and tries to take her leave.

“Kara.” Andrea calls her attention back just as she’s about to push through the door. “Don’t even think about trying to ask Lena to change my mind.”

Kara’s phone breaks in her palm as she exits the office. grabbing her purse on route to the elevator.

“Where are you going?” Nia hisses after her.

“To find a story.”

---

Kara only catches glimpses of Lena at the tower after that. She sees more of Lena on the cover of tabloids at the grocery store than she does in person. Today it’s a red-carpet photo that stares at her across the packs of pop-tarts she has on the conveyor belt. Lena’s turned into Andrea as she looks at the camera over her shoulder. Andrea’s hand sits low on her hip as she looks in the opposite direction, her jawline on full display as she smirks at a different camera.

Kara barely notices when she reaches across to grab the magazine. She does her best not to tear the delicate pages as she rapidly flips through them until she finds another photo. She can feel the heat growing behind her eyes the longer she stares at it. Lena’s posed almost the exact same, but Andrea is leaning in this time to press a kiss to the corner of Lena’s mouth. It’s oddly intimate for a red-carpet photo and it makes Kara throw the magazine onto the conveyer belt next to a case of cookies just to stop looking at it.

---

“Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?” Kara practically throws the magazine on Lena’s coffee table in greeting as she walks in through the balcony doors.

“I’m sorry?” Lena blinks slowly as she looks from the superhero to the magazine that’s fallen open to the picture of her and Andrea.

“You and Andrea are pals now?”

Lena snorts as she untangles herself from the couch to put the kitchen island between them as she starts to make a pot of tea.

“What?”

Kara’s fist clenches as Lena shakes her head. “That might be the only time that has been used correctly by the press.”

Kara watches Lena with a blank face as she looks up from filling the kettle.

“Andrea and I are hardly friends.”

“Then what is it?” Kara asks exasperated, as she slowly approaches the kitchen island but doesn’t sit. “If it’s not Andrea, what is it? Why have you been avoiding me?”

“Andrea’s been helping me.”

“With what?” Kara tries to keep the hurt out of her voice as she takes another step forward, watching Lena scoop some loose tea leaves into a pot and put a strainer over her mug.

“Lex.”

“Lex?” Now Kara’s confused. The tower has been trying to deal with Lex, albeit unsuccessfully.

“Andrea is helping me to take down Lex.”

“I don’t understand... I thought we were taking down Lex together.”

“Lex knows that you’re back from the phantom zone, and he knows I’ve been helping you. I just thought if it looked like I wasn’t helping you anymore he might let his guard down.”

“So, you’ve just been kissing Andrea instead?”

Lena sighs heavily as she pours hot water into the tea pot. “Kara…”

“No.” Kara crosses her arms, “You could’ve told me. I could’ve helped you!”

“I didn’t want you to help me!”

That makes Kara freeze. Her face contorting as she watches Lena snap at her.

“I thought we were over this.”

“It’s not about that.”

Kara doesn’t listen as she turns on her heel, trying not to put a foot through Lena’s floor as she marches to the balcony.

“I love you!”

Kara pauses, one hand on the glass door.

“I didn’t want your help because I love you. And I can’t keep losing you.”

“You love me?” Kara asks as she turns slowly.

“Against my better judgement.” Lena snarks, but it holds no heat as she lifts her chin that Kara can only laugh.

“Are you laughing at –“

“I love you too.” Kara blurts, refusing to let Lena get the wrong idea. “I’ve wanted to tell you for weeks.”

“Oh.” Lena nods to herself as she drops her gaze to pour her tea through the strainer. “That’s good.”

“Lena.” Kara whispers immediately appearing at Lena’s side as she wraps a hand around Lena’s slim wrist. “Look at me.”

Kara uses her other hand to reach for Lena’s chin, a finger gently hooking underneath to move her gaze. When pale blue-green eyes settle on her Kara smiles.

“I love you.” Kara repeats with all the earnestness she can muster. “And I’d really like to be the one to help you take down Lex.”

“Okay.” Lena replies in a hushed tone as she gives Kara a tiny nod.

“You won’t lose me.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

#supergirl #supercorp #nemo writes #119 days since I last posted something to ao3 #this was a lovely request from a follower to add to green eyed monster #always love having fun with this series #hope you enjoy <3 #would love if y'all checked it out

[roanniom]

Hey Issa, my sweet honey bun! I don’t send many requests to people, so bear with me. I’ll forever wait for the day you write Kylo, but until then I’ll throw this one at you for Charlie. I had a wander through the prompt list, and I kinda liked “I’ll feel better if you let me walk you home.” with Charlie being all protective of reader, unsure if she reciprocates his feelings. And because I’m a garbage can of filth, I also loved “I’m not made of glass. You won’t break me.” if you wanted to move into smut. I hope this gets the creative juices flowing? Take your time, no pressure ever! 💕💕💕

@paper-n-ashes as you know I have been holding onto this and chipping away at it steadily for FOREVER so I can get it just right for you, so I hope you enjoy it, my love <3

Push

Charlie Barber x Reader

Word Count: 6,862

Warnings: NSFW, fingering, PIV sex / unprotected sex, light light light choking (not even really), mention of infidelity (just canon from Marriage Story plot), a lil post-divorce angst/lack of confidence

The above photo is Charlie Barber, 1-year post divorce. He’s been working out as a form of anger management and because Henry, over many late night phone conversations, has shared his new love of hiking, a pastime he’s picked up since living in LA. Charlie plans to take Henry hiking on the Appalachian trail next summer break and wants to be on tip top shape to keep up with his enthusiastic son.

He’s been to therapy. Learning more about what went wrong in his marriage, but more specifically learning about how he can become a better person in the aftermath. How infidelity and self-interest were born of a deep-seated need for a love that he was not receiving. A love that was no closer to him prior to his indiscretions but all the same rendered unreachable as a result. He’s given himself time to grieve the man he’d thought himself to be. Because that is what had died with his marriage - not Charlie Barber himself. But the Charlie Barber he’d built in his mind. A man limited by support that came with conditions, love that came with caveats. That Charlie was a father and a husband. He was often suppressed, wound tight, on edge.

This Charlie is a father and a man. He is free to celebrate his own success without fear of wounding nearby egos. He’s limited only by what he feels he deserves. And granted sometimes those self-imposed limitations can really hold him down, as they did when he vowed not to jump into any further entanglements - affairs or otherwise - in the time immediately following his divorce. But that limitation was ultimately beneficial. It gave him space to be alone - with himself, for himself. He was able to finally see his own flaws with his own eyes instead of having them recited back to him by another, as if through a crude, second hand reflection. And in seeing these flaws, he also saw the virtues. Charlie was actually starting to like himself again.

And this is when he meets you.

You storm into his life with an energy he doesn’t recognize, introduced at a party by a friend of a friend, filling his senses with your too-loud-laughter and too-bright-eyes. In many ways that’s how he sees you: too much. Your enthusiasm makes you appear too young, though in truth you’re not that much younger than him. Your smile makes you appear too beautiful, though in truth there are often much more conventionally attractive women in the room at any given time.

“Charlie. Charlie Barber,” Charlie mutters as he shakes your hand. Its warm in his larger one and he’s suddenly a little self-conscious of the fact that he’d been holding his sweating scotch on the rocks just moments before the contact.

“Hello Charlie-Charlie Barber,” you reply with a massive grin, shaking his hand back vigorously and with seemingly no reaction to its clamminess. “The famous director, I assume?”

Charlie clocks the quirk of your eyebrow. A tease. A social cue he’s not used to. Not these days. He looks down at his worn tennis shoes, all too aware all at once of the way they dress down his sweater and jeans. He feels rumpled next to you and he’s not sure he likes it. You’re too put together.

You’re too honest, too fearless, too open to new things. Though Charlie’s beginning to grow, your presence reminds him of how stunted he’d been in his marriage. How the same old restaurants, the same old clothes, the same old glass of the same old scotch had become items of comfort for him, talismans of a previous life that he clung to for some semblance of familiarity. Around you, however, those same old things looks dull and uninspired. Quite the opposite of you.

You are the one to ask him out, though he’s not even really aware that it’s a date at all when he arrives. That’s how much he doesn’t see you coming. His affair had been one of convenience. An opportunity to blow off excess steam, and a pretty disappointing one at that, with neither party really find what they were chasing. His marriage had grown cold long before it had ended. All of this to say that Charlie wasn’t very familiar with warmth. With interest that occurred in the light of day, and attention that was given without anything sought in return.

You’re halfway through lunch before you realize that he doesn’t understand your intentions. So you explain them to him. Clear and empty of any pretense. You are attracted to him and interested in getting to know him further. It’s simple, really. He’s shocked by your openness and the absence of any games. In another life he’d once assumed that a relationship without strife, without agony, without strategic tug of war would be one without passion. However, as he soon learns while taking you out on the second date, that he couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

Over dinner this time he finds himself getting lost in your micro-expressions. Finds his eyes lingering on the animated way you gesture, finds his words getting twisted in his tongue as your gaze weighs on him, expectant and waiting for a response to some question. His bodily responses to your attention are no less potent in the absence of angst. In fact, he is surprised to find that his yearning practically triples when you part ways and he realizes not once had he been made to feel like he had to prove something, or fight, or challenge.

He learns over time that you challenge him in other ways. Challenge him when it comes to picking restaurants outside his comfort zone. Challenge him by dragging him, mid-lunch date, on a shopping trip with you, a trip where you gently help him to finally replace the worn out tennis shoes to which he’d been clinging. Challenge him by laughing with him, not at him, even when the subject of the humor is himself. Your laughter is lighter, more carefree, than he is used to. Then again, he’s not used to being around someone like you.

He kisses you after the third date – the lunch-turned-shopping trip. It’s quick and it’s light, on the curb before an intersection on the East Side, right before you both are about to walk in separate directions. You say nothing when he pulls away. Just smile and turn on your heel, already headed to your next destination. It drives Charlie crazy over the next few days. Not because he assumes you have some hidden agenda. On the contrary, he’s horrified that your interior thoughts match your exterior actions. You have been nothing but honest with him. It is Charlie who has been oscillating wildly in his mind. Between thoughts of how much it might hurt if you turn out to be too good to be true and thoughts of how much he’d love to feel your body on his. To explore the mouth you use so effortlessly to tease him, to compliment him, to charm him. You speak kindness like pleasantries, as if affirmations and praise were as easy to dole out as a cheery “good morning” on a stress-free Saturday. Charlie wants to know what you’re like on a Saturday. Away from the bustle of the city. Away from the common friends and the crowded shops and restaurants that have buffered all of your encounters.

But Charlie’s still afraid.

On your fourth date Charlie is more reserved when you arrive at the restaurant. You break the ice by pointing out that the formality of your dates is beginning to feel silly.

“Maybe it’s the fact that the tables have tablecloths,” you joke, swirling your pasta around a fork. “Or maybe it’s the fact that I’ve never repeatedly had meals with someone I wasn’t already in a relationship with.”

Charlie prickles at the implication, taking a labored swallow of ice water. He doesn’t want to comment on the relationship part of your sentiment so he chooses something more neutral.

“Should I remind you that two of these meals have been at your suggestion and you did, in fact, also plan them as meals.” He relaxes a bit when you laugh heartily at that, relieved that the conversation doesn’t get any more dicey.

“Touché,” you reply. Then you lean forward and whisper conspiratorially at him across the small table. He feels himself lean in, curious but also looking for a chance to just get closer in proximity. He wishes he’d had the courage to sit next to you rather than across from you when he’d first sat down. “Feeling adventurous enough to let me pick where we go after this tonight?”

And Charlie feels adventurous. Adventurous as he lets you whisk him across town and to your favorite arcade bar. Adventurous as he passes you a large handful of quarters he got from the little machine at the front, only to grasp your fist in his when he miscalculates how much of his handful you’d be capable of taking, narrowly avoiding a massive spill of loose change on the floor. Adventurous as he orders a couple of beers and lets you show him your favorite game, Burger Time – a silly little maze game where you collect burger ingredients. Adventurous as he shows you his favorite game, which is pretty much any pinball machine known to man.

“Yours looks cooler than mine,” you huff, walking over to the pinball machine he’s playing once you abandon the one that was definitely broken. Or at least that’s how you justify so many consecutive, immediate losses. Charlie laughs and pulls back the plunger but doesn’t release, effectively pausing his game.

“You wanna try it?” Charlie ushers you in front of him and puts your hand on the plunger beneath his, careful not to release it in the process. “The key is anticipating where the ball will go. It’s all about patterns after a while.”

“Then why does it seem so random?” you ask, looking up at him over your shoulder.

“You just haven’t played enough yet. Over time you can predict what will happen if the ball hits a certain corner. Where it will go if it ricochets juuust right at the last second.”

“Sounds fake but I’ll let you prove it to me,” you say with a laugh, focusing your attention back on the machine.

“We’ll let go in one…two…three.” When you feel the pressure of his hand let up you let go as well, letting him guide both your hands immediately to the buttons on the side of the machine.

For as great as his theory of pinball predictability is, he probably underestimates your ability to suck. Because you do, hard. But you laugh the whole way through, and you never quit. Never turn to him in frustration asking to do something else or even to leave. Instead you keep feeding quarters into the machine and bringing your hands back under Charlie’s on the machine. And no matter how shitty you are, you always at least try to focus.

Charlie, meanwhile, is having a very hard time focusing on anything that isn’t your body. His hips bracket your ass in this helpful position he’s adopted, and he feels your pressure against his pelvis with every enthusiastic wriggle and little jump of frustration that you take in response to the game. When he makes the unfortunate mistake to look down over your shoulder at one point he’s met with a direct view of your cleavage, exposed as it is in your low-cut blouse. Charlie begins to sweat and it has nothing to do with how packed the arcade is or with the exertion of gaming. When he remembers that the arcade is also a bar, he excuses himself to get more beer, hoping that one will cool him off and cool him down.

You dazzle him with a smile thrown over your shoulder when he approaches with the two fresh bottles, and he’s not prepared for how the sight of your face almost knocks him back on his ass.

“Charlie! I did better this time!” He chuckles at your enthusiasm.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, handing you your beer which you sip gratefully.

“I lasted a few more minutes than last time,” you elaborate proudly. “So I’d say that means I now qualify as a pinball wizard.”

“Move over Elton John,” Charlie says with a smirk. You slap him in the shoulder and immediately engage him in a spirited discussion of whether the Elton John movie version of “Pinball Wizard” was better than The Who’s version from the original album. However, after a few minutes Charlie realizes he’s lost in thought. Lost in your voice. Lost in your expressions. Lost in you.

When it finally comes time to leave the arcade, the night drawing much later than it had on your previous nighttime date, Charlie’s scared he’ll be lost without you. The two of you walk together for a couple of blocks before you reach that similar intersection. The place where you part ways.

“I think we really turned around that formality thing, don’t you?” you ask him, turning to Charlie and leaning back against the column of a pedestrian sign. Charlie moves into your space, swallowing his hesitation.

“I don’t know, I began to feel a little unworthy when you ascended past the role of pinball wizard.”

“Oh did I get a promotion?” You ask, tipping your head back so you can look up at him as he steps closer.

“The word wizard conjures up images of wizened old man,” Charlie says dismissively, as if that clears up everything.

“So if you’re saying I don’t remind you of a wrinkled old Merlin – to which might I say, shocker – then what exactly is my new title.”

“One that fits you inside and out.” Charlie braces a hand against the column above your head, his other in his pocket. His head dips down so that it’s closer to your face despite your height difference. You feel warm despite the slight chill in the air.

“And that would be Pinball….?” you prompt.

“Goddess,” he completes the title before pressing his lips to yours. His hands remain on the column and in his pocket until you reach forward and grab a fistful of his sweater, pulling him to you. Then his hands are at your waist, pushing you back into the column. His tongue is in your mouth and your hands are in his hair and he can’t breathe. But he doesn’t want to. He wants to suffocate, wants to asphyxiate on you and the way he feels so tethered to this moment, this intersection, this place where you cannot part ways.

When you break apart to, in fact, breathe, your chest heaves and your smile is radiant.

“As far as kisses goodnight go, I’d say that was top tier,” you say on a laugh. Suddenly Charlie’s throat is constricting and he has to fight his facial muscles to keep from frowning as his hands tighten on your waist.

“That wasn’t a kiss goodnight. Not yet.”

“Any longer and it’ll be a kiss good morning, sir. Have you seen the time?” Your tone is joking. You call people ‘sir’ all the time. It’s a weird quirk of yours, like calling someone dude or pal. But Charlie can feel himself choking on the word, as well as the implications of a ‘kiss good morning.’ All of a sudden he feels like if he could have only one more thing before dying, that’s what he’d ask for. But then he kicks himself internally for being so fucking dramatic and he fiddles with the hem of your shirt.

“Exactly. It’s late.

You survey him from under your eyelashes with a small smile.

“I’ve made this walk many times.”

“It’s dark.”

“I’ve made this walk in the dark many times.”

“I’ll feel better if you let me walk you home.”

Charlie’s heart clenches. Before he can overthink, you’ve ducked out of his hold, grasped his hand and started pulling him down the street.

“C’mon Charlie, hurry up. You’d keep a goddess waiting?” you toss back at him over your shoulder. But in truth it was taking all of Charlie’s self control and the fact that he didn’t know the way to your place to keep him from throwing you over his shoulder and breaking into a full sprint.

~*~

Your place is exactly like you. Eclectic, warm, inviting. There is a moment, as you pull off your coat and turn away to place it and Charlie’s on a coat rack, when Charlie feels much too big for the space. Like he’s some kind of giant invading the home of a sweet little wood nymph. But then his little wood nymph is grabbing him by the front of the shirt and dragging him to a bedroom and the worries fade right out the window.  

At first Charlie is gentle with you. His hands ghost over your body as you kiss him beside your bed. When you push him to sit down on the edge of the mattress and step between his open legs to kiss him with a different height dynamic his heart just about jumps clear out of his chest. He hasn’t done this – hasn’t touched or been touched – in so long. The affair had been transactional, just the mechanical motions of sexual gratification. Sex with Nicole, before it stopped, had been even colder, almost as if she had been begrudgingly completing some unwelcome chore.

You, however, are like fire beneath Charlie’s fingers. Your skin, your lips – everything is so warm it feels like you’re too hot to touch. But Charlie would rather risk burning up than to not become accustomed to the feel, the shape, the substance of you. He smooths over your body with a reverential softness, his muscles tense with restraint so as to keep from accidentally pushing you too far too fast. To keep from handling the way that, deep down, he desperately needs.

When your lips suddenly leave his, his brow furrows in frustrations. Before he can open his eyes a soothing finger smooths the furrow away, sliding down the bridge of his nose to press against his kiss-swollen lips. Charlie opens his eyes with a question present in them and you cock your head to the side.

“You’re tense. Like you’re holding back.” The statement isn’t accusatory but it isn’t a question. Charlie takes a shaky breath, unsure about how much he should say. Would his desperation read as too dramatic? Too undesirable? Would his enthusiasm come across as pushy or dominating? His brow must furrow again because your hand moves back up, finger pressing out the wrinkles. He shrugs.

“It’s been…a while for me. I didn’t want to come across as too…much.”

You laugh then and yet again Charlie is struck by how strange it is that you can laugh in his face directly in response to something he’s said without making him feel like you are laughing at him.

“I’m not made of glass. You won’t break me, Charlie.”

“You’re sure about that?” Charlie huffs out with a little chuckle. You give him a smirk and say your next words up against his lips.

“Try me.”

You probably were expecting him to require more cajoling. You probably were expecting him to gradually ease into something more. But Charlie takes you by surprise, grabbing you and pulling you onto the bed with him, rolling so that you’re laid out beneath his body, all the while maintaining hungry possession of your mouth. His body finds its place between your legs and you gasp at the feeling of how huge he is. How hard and insistent against your softness. He drinks from you like a man whose thirst can not be quenched. His hands find purchase on your waist and he squeezes. So hard you’re sure you’ll bruise. You smile against his mouth with the realization that you look forward to watching them bloom later.

Since Charlie seems too preoccupied with groping and making out with you, it is you who eventually takes the next step, beginning to pop open the buttons on your blouse one by one. When Charlie feels the motion of your hands between your bodies he ultimately pulls back to investigate, mouth dropping open at the slow reveal of the lingerie you’re wearing beneath. His hand shoots out to caress the delicate lace of your bra, teasingly not applying any pressure to the breast beneath.

“Do you wear things like this often?” Charlie’s voice is already rough as he asks this. You shrug.

“Whenever I want to feel sexy.”

“You wanted to feel sexy while out with me?” Charlie asks, lifting an eyebrow.

“You made me feel sexier than the lace, Mr. Barber,” you say with a smile before leaning up to capture his lower lip between your teeth. He groans and moves to practically swallow you whole. You’re entirely foreign to him. Enthusiasm, amusement, and enjoyment bundled up into one devastatingly sexy package. There’s no shame in your movements, no angst in your eyes. Just humor. Only an unabashed pursuit of pleasure. And if it’s pleasure you want, it’s pleasure you’ll get.

Charlie now aids you in the process of removing the rest of your garments, so it goes much quicker. When you move to pull off your bra, however, he catches your wrist in his massive hand.

“No…can these stay on?” Your eyebrows shoot up but you notice the way that Charlie is gazing at you with eyes slightly hazy and tongue running over his lips.

“This doing it for you, Charlie?” you tease, shimmying a bit. Charlie’s answer is sincere regardless as he dips his head down to sample the plush skin at the line of your cleavage.

“You have no idea.”

“So you’re a lingerie man, huh?” When you ask he stops to think for a second because, truly, he had never considered himself that way before. He’d never had any reason to. Sure lingerie models in magazines were hot, but it’s not a specific fantasy he’d ever explored previously.

But the sight of you here, strategically covered in lace and laid out beneath him pretty as a picture has him so hard he feels like a teenager unable to control himself. So, as you had urged him, he doesn’t.

“I might be. But really, I’m just enamored by these tits.” His teeth sink into your flesh and you sigh, especially when his tongue comes out to lave warmly at the spot. He moves down your body then, peppering kisses to the exposed skin of your stomach, sliding until your inner thighs rest against the sides of his face and his hands dip below you to squeeze your ass. “Although I feel like this might end up being my favorite part.” He says this last part directly into your clothed cunt, his lips just barely ghosting over the fabric with his words.

You wiggle a bit in his grasp, loving the answering way his fingers dig into your soft flesh. Your fingers card into his lush hair, tugging lightly at the roots, a feeling that shoots through his body and straight to his rock hard member. The way he discretely ruts against the mattress in response does not go unnoticed by you, so you drop a hand under his chin to tip his face back up to look at you.

“Will you fuck me, Charlie?” Your voice is clear and bright. Not playing coy and requiring any convincing. Just asking for something you want. And the hunger in your eyes seems unmistakable, though it still feels to good to be true. Charlie drops his gaze back down to the wet spot forming in your panties before looking back up and practically pouting.

“I’d like to taste you,” he counters. A brilliant smile breaks out across your face at the sound of that but you shake your head.

“There’ll be time for that later,” you argue, tugging on his shoulder to get him back on top of you. “If you don’t get inside me right now I’ll die.”

Charlie almost misses that last part because he’s still stuck on the first part. There’ll be time for that later. The possibility of later squeezes at Charlie’s hard and it’s only after a few echoing seconds that he’s able to process the rest of your statement with a delayed, choking laugh.

“Is someone getting dramatic on me?”

“Not yet, but I will if - ”

“If I don’t get inside you?” Charlie completes the statement in the exact moment a hand drops between your thighs and presses against the soaked fabric covering your slit. You inhale sharply.

“Exactly.”

“I didn’t take you for someone who was pushy in bed,” Charlie says good naturedly, swiping his fingers up the line of you to end with a swirl over where he assumed – correctly – your clit was. You tilt your pelvis to maximize his pressure before surging up to kiss him long and hard.

“I’m actually not. Not really,” you say breathlessly when you finally pull away and drop back down onto the pillows. You stretch luxuriously, almost like a kitten in the sun under his piercing gaze, the movement of your hips bumping his hand to rub you even better. Running your hands up and down the big, strong arms that cage you in and support him, you kiss his shoulder. “I’ve been hoping you would be.”

Suddenly your wrists are being pinned down above your head by one of Charlie’s hands. He’s got your legs open wide with his body sinking against you, hard and heavy.

“Pushy? You want me to be pushy?”

You grin big and wide at him.

“Yeah. Take charge like I know you want – oh!” You’re cut off by the welcome sensation of stimulation as Charlie’s hand drops inside your panties to slide around in your waiting slick. Without the barrier of the fabric between you, the feeling of your velvety slipperiness is enough to make him loose a growl.

He’s not hesitating and he’s not teasing anymore. Charlie has been waiting for this moment. He’s been waiting to care. Been waiting to feel. And what’s heightening the experience even more is the look on your face, the way your lips are parted and the way you gaze up at him longingly, expectantly. Providing all the evidence he needs to prove that you want this too. He wants you and you want him – what a novel idea. There are no angles or obligations, but also no shame or secrecy.

“Well if you wanted me to take charge you should have said so earlier,” he says, the corner of his lip quirking a bit as he dips two fingers inside your soaking cunt, not bothering to start with one. You gasp at the sudden intrusion. The stretch is a lot, but it is everything. Charlie sees the enjoyment register on your face, discomfort melting away almost immediately, and he begins to pull them slowly in and out to massage your walls.

“Maybe – ahh – maybe I should have,” you reply.

“Should I have caused a scene in the arcade?”

“Yes – fuck!” During an inward thrust Charlie curls his fingers up this time, rubbing against that spot in your upper wall that previous guys barely even knew was there. Before you know it he’s adding a third finger and you’re beside yourself. Charlie is elated to see how easily your body responds to his ministrations, how free you are with your reactions. He leans to down to suck a mark over your collar bone while his thumb meets your clit in tandem with his other thrusting fingers.

“You knew what you were doing when you kept rubbing that pretty little ass back into me while I taught you pinball.” His words rumbling against the skin of your throat.

“You made it so easy.”

“And you made it so hard,” Charlie counters, humor very present in his voice. You gasp out a laugh and try to tug your wrists from his grasp, but he doesn’t let you. Just keeps you pinned down as he continues to finger fuck you nice and slow.

“So impatient. I should have known. You’ve been impatient all night, haven’t you?” You whine out affirmations and screw your eyes shut as the pressure starts to build to a crescendo. Charlie picks up speed, his voice growing deeper as he continues. “Wanted me to fuck you on the pinball machine in front of everyone, didn’t you?”

You gasp and toss your head back against the pillows at that, hips bucking involuntarily. Charlie’s nose glides along the perimeter of your jaw, breathing in the scent of you as you fall apart. He’s never felt so powerful as he does with the feeling of your muscles tensing up under his fingertips. Never had the inspiration or audience for such language, but as you shiver and respond to his words, a surge of pride fills him and all he wants to do is dangle you over the edge over and over again.

“Charlie…” His name is a whimper when it falls from your lips. You’re so close. He feels it. So he pushes his fingers deep inside you, curling up with the motion, just as he sweeps one, two, three final circles into the throbbing bud of your clit.

You crest and you break against the tide of your orgasm, plummeting down from such heights you didn’t know you could reach from simple fingering. But there’s nothing simple about Charlie, the man who had been broken and put back together, only to find you, the universe’s overly generous reward for his perseverance.

Charlie’s slightly (unfocused) eyes focus on your heaving chest as you finally descend from the orgasm, but you’re the one to break the spell. Impatient is the perfect way to describe you as you wrap your legs around his middle and hook your ankles to trap him against you. You lunge up to arrest his mouth in a kiss. It’s sloppy, but just enough to distract him so that you can pull your wrists from his grasp. Once free you push him gently to the side so that you’re both rolling over, mouths still attached. He comes to rest on his back with you straddling him.

Charlie blinks up at you, taking in the way your breasts bounce in their bra cups as you busy yourself with the task of removing his clothes. He hadn’t even realized he was still in them until you began unbuttoning and pulling and pushing. Your impatience is clear once again in the way you divest him of the frustratingly excessive material and he finally gets the memo that he should help you.

With his pants and underwear pulled off and discarded, as well as the button up shirt that you had come to love as his signature look, you rest your palms flat on the plane of his chest. You’re still in your lingerie, as he had requested, only it is now beautiful askew. Your breasts now strain out of the cups, having been jostled into almost spilling out with your change of position. Your panties are sopping wet and stretched from his vigorous fingering and the evidence of your orgasm.

You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

But you become even more beautiful when you wrap your hand around his aching cock, lifting up on your knees as you do so. Your fists slides up and down, up and down and he watches it, mesmerized, until you lean forward to catch his eye.

“What should I do, Charlie?”

Your face is soft and open. You’re asking for him to continue taking the lead. And Charlie realizes right then and there that he will never want to disappoint you. Snapping out his daze he lets his fingers dig into your flesh where his hands curl around your hips.

“Sit down on my cock, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

The term of endearment is so sugary. He’s called his son that, but never a lover, casual or otherwise, and never during the first time. Your face, however, lights up and you do as you’re told, sinking down onto his long, hard length. The impact draws a moan from both of your throats followed by gasped phrases spoken over one another.

“You’re so big!”

“You’re so tight!”

You both laugh at the overlap but laughter turns to groans as you roll your hips experimentally. After a few moments of this, it appears that Charlie becomes the impatient one finally.

“Ride me,” he spits through gritted teeth. Your nails imprint half moons in his skin as you clench at his tone, not quite hearing the words. Charlie sucks air through his teeth at the squeeze.

“What?”

“Ride me. I need you to fucking ride me.” You can tell that he’s trying to remain cool and collected, but his brow is furrowed and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth.

So you do as he says. You lift up and drop down, feeling the length of his cock slide through your sheath with a speed that you set, establishing a rhythm that has your toes curling. You let out a particularly shameless moan and Charlie opens his eyes. They widen immediately upon seeing that you’re clutching and squeezing at your own breast with one hand while grabbing onto his hip to stabilize you with the other. The sight alone of your face, screwed up in pleasure, flips a switch in Charlie and suddenly he is thrusting up into you without mercy.

“Charlie!” you cry out, both from surprise at the increased jostling and from how tremendously good it feels.

“I should have fucked you in the arcade. I would have if I had known how good you feel.”

“I – oh fuckfuck – knew,” you barely get out. Charlie hoists you back so that he’s sitting up with his back against the headrest now. The position gives him more leverage and power so he can lift you up and down his cock, bouncing you now with a rhythm that vibrates through your entire being.

“What was that, sweetheart?” Charlie asks, engulfing one of your breasts in his huge hand. The added sensation is perfect, but not quite enough. You wonder if you can coax more.

“I knew you would feel good.” You reach down to the base of his cock, encircling it as much as possible with it’s girth, and fisting upward just as he pulls you up, therefore maximizing the squeeze on his length. Charlie inhales abruptly and drops you back down.

“Little Miss Know-it-all, are you?” His voice is harsh and it sends a thrill throughout your body. Before you can respond, you’re pushed and yanked around, losing your grip with the motion.

“What - ?” Charlie’s hand on your throat quiets you. Not because he’s truly squeezing, but because the solid warmth of his hand causes you to squeak your way to silence. His adjustments now find you pulled up to the edge of the bed, legs spread and pushed back, with Charlie standing between them. Bent over, he grounds himself with one hand on your throat and one on your hip, positioning his tip back at the entrance to your weeping cunt. You expect him to slam his hips forward, to impale you with his cock, but he pauses with the swollen head just inside your folds.

“This okay?”

This power and control, the way he is manipulating your body for your pleasure and his own – he loves it. It’s so new and yet something he now wonders how he ever did without. But he also feels the need to check in and make sure that you’re still with him. The nod you give, the sparkle in your eye, and the quirk of your lips is all it takes to convince him and then he is plowing forward, slamming himself back in again and again. You let out a full throated moan and Charlie revels in the way your eyes roll all the way back.

He wonders what else will make you do that. What else will make your eyes roll back and your toes curl and your teeth sink into your bottom lip? He wonders, as his hand presses softly into the contours of your throat, what it would feel like to squeeze a little harder, and if the pressure would make you even more desperate for him. He wonders if you like a little pain with your pleasure, as he has long suspected he might enjoy, though has never truly had the chance to confirm.

But there will be time for that.

So now, he does his best to focus in on the sounds you release. Sounds of delight and surprise and sensual thrill. He coaxes you to your second climax and you don’t fight it. You don’t demure or wait for him or hesitate. Instead you unapologetically allow yourself to get lost in the pleasure he’s built for you, seizing and quaking beneath him without shame.

The sight and feeling are so beautiful he can’t help but follow soon after, pulling out and allowing releasing all over the bra and panties you had so generously left on for him. The sight of his seed landing on the delicate lace, as you lay beneath him fucked out and smiling, causes another tremor to rock through him, and he finds that he’s still cumming long after he usually would have finished.

Charlie finds himself in a daze in the immediate aftermath of his release. He looks around for something to clean you with, and when you notice you point out a box of tissues on the desk. After he’s done his best to wipe you up, you give him a kiss on the cheek. The mundane intimacy of the act makes him blush all the way to the hidden tips of his ears. It is absurd because you had just had sex, however the press of your lips to his skin seemed to seal the deal. This was not transactional. It was something more, Charlie can’t help but think to himself as you get up from the bed and skip to the bathroom.

In your absence Charlie again registers the smallness of your room. How large – out of place, maybe – he is amongst your delicate things. He pulls on his underwear and sits back down on the mattress, unsure.

Unsure about your expectations. Unsure about whether or not you’d want him to leave. Or stay.

Before he can make a decision in either direction you are bounding back into the room, a smile on your face. Your face is freshly washed and you’re in a faded, oversized tank top, having divested yourself of your abused lingerie. Charlie swallows at the sight of your breasts, free and outlined beneath the soft fabric. He adjusts his hands in his lap. No need to let you see him getting worked up again so soon like some horny teenager. You don’t seem to notice, instead slipping easily into bed beside him, shimmying under the covers and patting the space beside you so that he does the same.

So stay he will.

Once you’re both comfortable and situated, you slide into his arms, drawing them around your body without a question or seemingly a second though. Much like the way you’d slid into his life, Charlie thinks ruefully, nuzzling his face into the top of your head as you tuck in beneath his chin.

“Charlie?”

“Hm?”

“I know you always go to that diner on 15th for breakfast,” you begin, and Charlie’s heart spasms. Both at the thought of breakfast with you and the fact that you so casually know details about him. About his likes and his habits. He pulls you in a little tighter and nods his head.

“Yeah?”

“Would you mind if I show you a new place in the morning? I think you’ll really like it.”

And Charlie laughs. Because of course you’d want to push him out of his comfort zone. It’s what you do – push him to try new things. Push him to do things he wouldn’t usually consider. Push him to be the man he’d been working so hard for the past year to be.

“Yes, but I’m not changing the way I order my eggs,” he grumbles with humor, kissing the crown of your head. “Not yet.”

~*~

The next morning you order first, and you’ve never had breakfast with Charlie before, so when he asks for the same dish, you can’t possibly know that this is his first time ordering eggs Florentine.

As you both laugh and eat and sip coffee in the outdoor seating area of the quaint café you’d picked, fingers intertwined between you on the wrought iron table, you also can’t know that this is the happiest Charlie has felt in ages.

But he makes it his mission, right there and then, to do everything in his power to make you feel the same.

~*~

Tagging some lovely friends (please let me know if you would like to be tagged or untagged in the future!): @celestiasin @tlcwrites @noocturnalchild @thedivinemissn @insufferablelust @edencherries @historyandfandoms50 @lostinthedrive @thewilddingleberries @mariesackler @safarigirlsp @direnightshade @sacklerscumrag @clydesfavoritegirl @wayward-rose @hopeamarsu @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @finn-ray-nal-beads @fizzywoohoo @maybe-your-left @aliveandlonely @han-not-solo @mrs-zimmerman @maryforyou @jynzandtonic @renmaulxo @millenialcatlady @soggywhore @transparentmeoo @leia-suns @alpha-lobito

#paper-n-ashes #charlie barber x reader #charlie barber x you #Charlie Barber/reader #Charlie Barber/you #Charlie Barber fanfiction #Charlie Barber smut #marriage story fanfiction #Marriage Story smut #writing #smut #Roanniom #tw: unprotected sex #tw: choking

[flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash]

Irresistible Danger - Part 59

Synopsis:  After being caught outside the compound on your own, Negan decides to punish you in the best way possible ;)

Words: 4,078

Warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing

ID Masterlist can be found HERE

Masterlist of all my fics can be found HERE

*HIATUS WARNING*

This will be my last chapter update until the end of July or very beginning of August, due to me joining Camp Nano. If people are interested, I can link my nano page HERE if you want to see what progress I make. I haven’t created a Camp project goal yet, but I’ll be adding it soon. 

Clearing the Board

You stared at Negan in shock for a long moment, your brain’s frantic whirring grinding to a screeching halt as the subconscious watched with mouth so agape that the gum it had been chewing fell unnoticed to the floor. 

Had he been thinking the same questions as you the entire dinner? Part of you wanted to bolt, terrified to know what was on his mind. Was this where he pulled the rug out from under you and said things were getting too cozy, that he wanted to back track? Did he want to go back to his wives? Or maybe he wanted to try and make you into another one of them? 

Breathe. Just breathe and see what he has to say, before you start hyperventilating. 

Clearing your throat and licking suddenly dry lips, you hoarsely said, “Uh...yeah...we do.” 

As if this was the permission he was waiting for, he gave a curt nod and started talking. He was so focused and straight to the point that you wondered if he had rehearsed this prior to you showing up. If so, he had done a much better job of preparing than you had. 

“I wanted to apologize for last night. Not just for the way I attacked you, though I do fucking apologize for that, but for how I acted after.”

At this, he paused and ran a hand slowly down over his mouth and beard, and you realized how difficult this conversation was for him, how much he still struggled to be open and honest and sincere with another human when he’d had to learn the hard way to be tough and mean and impenetrable. It made you feel validated regarding your own struggles, as well as grateful that both of you were stepping outside your comfort zones and trying to communicate. 

“Doll, there’s just some shit that I don’t like to fucking relive. It has to happen, whether I fucking want it to or not, and once it’s done, it’s done. I don’t always want to rehash events, or talk about how I feel, because the answer is probably that I feel like fucking horse shit. It’s nothing personal against you, it’s just me wanting to fucking move on. The same way you told me the other night that I gotta trust you not to always give me all the fucking details? Well, same goes when the shoe’s on the other fucking foot.”

You sat there and took this in, brain having pulled out a tablet to take frantic notes, and subconscious still staring in shock with its foot unknowingly stepping right in the middle of the dropped gum wad. Of all the ways for tonight’s conversation to go, no part of you had expected Negan to not only take the lead, but go in the correct direction needed to pulverize one of the newly-created questions you had thrown into the padlocked box. 

Once he said the words out loud, it did make a lot of sense. You had seen it as wanting to connect with him and support him, if he would just explain what had happened on the run to upset him. However, some things might be better left unsaid, so as not to make the person relive the events and the emotions tied to them. What you had seen as him shutting you down was actually him trying to move on from unsavory events (and actions he’d had to complete in his role as leader). Add to that his comparison to your conversation the other night, where you had expected him to be okay with you not giving all details about certain events, and you couldn’t believe how much you had blown his recent actions out of proportion.

You had been quiet for a few long moments, during which he was watching you closely. He tried to make his expression neutral, but the unnatural stillness of his tensed body and the focused intensity of his hazel gaze gave away how much weight he was putting on what your response might be.

 Picking your words carefully, you broke the silence. “Thank you for explaining that, because I did wonder why you turned down my offer to talk last night. I respect your right to not tell me everything about what you have to do in order to keep control of the Sanctuary and other communities. However,” you held his gaze, making sure he saw your sincerity. “I want you to know that I’m always here for when and if you do want to talk about it. Any of it.” 

He was unresponsive for a few seconds, as if the tables had turned and now he was the one a bit surprised at how calm and clearly you had voiced your agreement. Then, a soft smile broke across his face, and he said, “I know you are, doll.”

You gave a small smile, beyond relieved to have that topic discussed and out of the way. Your brain was proud of the two of you for talking it out, while the subconscious was preoccupied with cursing and hopping around on one foot while frantically trying to use a stick to scrape the smeared gum off the bottom of its shoe. Like it, you now flailed about for how to move on to other concerns. The door of communication had been opened, and you didn’t want him to slam it shut now that the thing he’d wanted to get off his chest was done. 

“There’s some other things I think we need to talk about,” you said. When his eyebrows raised in a nonverbal for you to continue, you started nervously fidgeting with your dinner napkin.

Shit, where did you even start? How to accurately say what you were thinking and feeling about this relationship with him. He had obviously noticed you pulling back that day in the woods, and while you had been quick to start blurting your feelings when in a post-orgasmic haze, the words now stuck in your throat and refused to come out. 

That ball of self-doubt was creeping in, telling you to shut the box back up and get out of there. It whispered how maybe now that Negan had fucked you, the “game” was almost over and he wouldn’t be as interested. That the moment you started placing expectations on the two of you, he’d tell you to leave his rooms and not come back. 

Looking down at the napkin, which was now twisted and crumpled from anxious hands, you tossed it down on the table and abruptly stood up, unable to continue the farce of sitting still. You pushed the chair into the table and stood there for a few seconds before giving a frustrated groan and pacing over to his armoire and back. 

It was quite the role reversal, you pacing back and forth while he sat there, silently watching. Your hands gestured wildly in front of you, as if trying to act out what you couldn’t say. You started to talk a few times, but it came out as a sputter of nothingness, causing you to pace back and forth yet again. After a couple rounds of this, you finally stopped behind the dinner chair, hands gripping the back of it until your knuckles turned white. The two of you stared at one another, his forehead furrowed in concern at your mini meltdown.

“Doll,” he said, voice low and calming. “Tell me.” 

Just say it. Tell him you’ve fallen for him. 

But you couldn’t. The emotions were right there, but it didn’t feel right to just blurt them out. Three little words that some people tossed around like pennies, and you couldn’t say them when it mattered. 

You looked at him desperately, willing him to throw a lifeline and take back over the conversation, to tell you to forget it and act like this moment had never happened. Instead, he finally moved into action, standing from his own chair and rounding the small table to stand in front of you. 

He didn’t reach out, didn’t try to hold you, as if he knew that the slightest touch would cause your taut as a bowstring form to burst into a million pieces. His hands instead clenched at his sides in a nonverbal show of restraint. He knew that whatever you were struggling with was important, while at the same time realizing he couldn’t force it, and that the direction of the conversation depended entirely on you. 

“Tell me what’s wrong.” 

There was more authority to his tone this time, but it was the slight hint of worry making it go up in pitch at the end that propelled your own voice to finally get its shit together and start working. 

“There’s nothing wrong, I just…I don’t know how to say it.”

“Fucking say what? You’re killing me here, doll.” 

You looked at him, took in this strong and seemingly impenetrable, yet surprisingly caring and passionate man who had shattered all of the emotional defenses you had strategically built in order to keep yourself safe. And suddenly, you knew exactly how to tell him in a way that he, and only he, would understand. 

“Remember when you said that the game is over when the king is captured?”

Surprise flickered in his gaze, as he obviously wasn’t expecting that to come out of your mouth. However, he quickly caught up, giving a curt nod. 

“I know technically the queen is expendable, and the game can continue on without her, but-” voice cracking a bit, you paused to take a deep breath before continuing. “What the hell does one do when the opposite happens?” 

You saw the moment the realization hit, making him go completely still. Saw the moment he pieced everything together but still held back, as if afraid maybe he was misinterpreting it. 

His face looked wrecked when he husked, “What are you saying, doll?”

Emotion welled in your eyes as you verbally let go, whispering the confession that had been held in for long enough. 

“The king’s captured me.”

He broke the physical distance then, his eyes bright with emotion as he wrapped one arm around your waist and cupped your face with a warm palm. Leaning down, he placed a kiss on your lips that was so soft and gentle you almost wanted to cry. When he lifted his head, you felt overwhelmed by the adoration in his gaze, but that was nothing compared to the words he then spoke.

“Well doll, I’d say that’s only fucking fair, since the queen’s captured me too.”

Shock coursed through you, followed by a rush of emotion so strong it would’ve knocked you on your ass if he wasn’t there to clutch onto. 

He feels the same! Holy fuck, not only did he understand, but he also feels the same!

The two of you kissed again, long and slow, until your surroundings faded away and there was only him. It could’ve been mere moments or long minutes before your lips parted from his, as time currently had no meaning outside the count of his breaths on your face and beat of his heart under your palm flattened on his chest. 

You felt dizzyingly happy, and the padlocked box was tons of pounds lighter. However, there were still a few spiky balls of questions sitting in the bottom of it, and it was time to empty them out. All of them. 

“So,” you said, fingers tracing up over his exposed collarbone and strong throat. “What happens next, after the king and queen capture each other?”

Giving a much softer version of his usual devilish smirk, he replied, “They lay down their weapons, recall their fucking armies, and rule the board together.” 

Grinning like a fool at that, you wound your arms up around his neck and murmured hesitantly, “So what does that mean for the others? What does the king do with the five of them?”

Once again, the metaphor was not lost on him, and you felt the slightest stiffening of his body against yours as he pulled his lips from where they had been tracing along your ear lobe and looked down at you. 

Shit, did you go too far? Maybe you should’ve just stopped while you were ahead and not crossed into that topic of conversation just yet…

“What do you want me to do with them, doll?” 

You definitely weren’t expecting that as a response, as shown by your staring blankly up at him for a few seconds before saying, “Isn’t that your choice?”

He gave an amused tsk of disapproval. “No, that’s not how it works when we both rule the board. Each partner gets a say, and then we figure it out together.”

Did he just...call you… “Is that what I am?” you asked, heart inflating like a bubble at the possibility. 

“I mean, we can stick with just calling you my queen, if that’s what you want, but I think partner also has a nice fucking ring to it.” 

His partner. Not his wife, or girlfriend. Partner. 

Stretching up to give him a kiss of approval, you said, “Partner is perfect.” 

Deciding to go all in, you added, “And I only want you, no one else. I want you to be the person I snuggle up against each night, and the one whose bed I wake up in each morning knowing that I belong there. I want to walk proudly beside you and know that you’re mine, as much as I’m yours.” You hesitated, a small dart of worry at the brutally honest words making you feel the need to ask, “But what do you want?”

The playful light was back in his eyes, that sinful tongue running over his bottom lip. “I thought I already made that fucking obvious, doll. But if I didn’t, then listen very closely.” 

His lips traced over your face, leaving butterfly kisses on your cheeks and nose and forehead as he spoke the words. “I want you. Fucking simple as that. I’ve wanted you, and only you, since the day you fucking kicked my ass at chess.” 

This was technically information you already knew, thanks to Trixie, but hearing it from him made it that much more real. It was as if even though all the signs were there, you still didn’t want to fully believe you were the reason for his change in behavior with the wives, not until he confirmed it himself. 

Trying to add a bit of lightness, you hummed in pleasure at his lips kissing the sensitive spot on the curve of your neck and quipped, “Who knew all it would take was a game of chess for me to stand out.”

Giving a huffed laugh, he said against your skin, “If you think that’s the only way you fucking stand out, you’re even more oblivious then I fucking thought.” 

“Hey! Are you telling me I’m weird or something?” you laughed, playfully tugging at his hair so that he raised his head to look at you. 

“Wellllll…” he joked, smiling broadly before his expression got a bit more serious. “In all honesty, doll, I’ve respected the hell out of you since the moment you arrived here.”

Eyebrows raising, you said, “Oh? Do go on.”

His eyes danced with mirth, but his words were uncharacteristically sincere. “Despite being scared shitless when my men first found your little group, you never fully submitted or lost your fight. You marched right into the Sanctuary like you were gonna own the whole fucking place, or at least own the kitchen, which you did in a ridiculously short amount of fucking time, I might add. I felt like a fool for asking you to be another wife and expecting you’d be happy just sitting around looking pretty.”

You gave a haughty grin, but let him continue, knowing that confessions such as this were few and far between with Negan. And you were going to soak in every affectionate word like a desert does the rain, because as much as the actions and nonverbals fed your heart, his words were what now fed your soul. 

“I knew you’d be trouble the the first time I walked in the kitchen to check on things and you refused to fucking kneel with the others, staring me down in a way that said you were demanding to be treated at my equal, and just daring me to try and fucking do something about it. It was that same daring each time we were alone that drew me in like fucking catnip, and while the smart thing would’ve been to stay away, when I found you out in the fucking woods about to be walker chow and totally going against my orders, it gave me the perfect opportunity to force you closer. I knew I should stop sending for you, stop finding reasons to visit the kitchen or order you to bring me trays, but damn doll, you were too fucking exciting to walk away from.

“The day you beat me at chess, you were so fucking proud of yourself, and I realized that instead of being pissed, I was proud of you too. I knew I had a spitfire on my hands, and damn if that didn’t make my dick hard.” His voice lowered a bit, so that you held your breath in order not to miss a single word. “But it wasn’t until that first outing together in the woods, when you killed that walker and saved my fucking hide, that I realized I was done for. That I might as well throw down my crown because the king had been captured, and the game was over.”

You thought back to that day, to the kiss and the look in his eyes afterward. Had you known back then? Possibly, but you never would’ve admitted it to yourself, not at that point. You felt a lump start to form in your throat, eyes blinking rapidly in an effort not to tear up. And you would have succeeded, damn it, if not for his next words.

“I tried to fight it, to fight you. Hell I almost got you fucking killed by chasing you out of here, and all because of my own fucking stubborn pride. I’d never hated myself as much as I did in that moment, when we found you lying injured in the fucking woods. I’ve loved and lost, more than any man should, but...the thought of losing you was what almost ruined me.”

Tears trickled down your cheeks in cool rivulets. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you whispered. Hell, if you had known all of this a bit earlier, maybe you wouldn’t have hesitated to talk things out. Wouldn’t have held back as much as you did. 

Giving a self-deprecating smile, he said, “Because I’m a fucking idiot. But also because every time I considered it, you’d fucking pull away. I would’ve claimed you publicly as mine weeks ago, but you about had a god damn heart attack anytime there was a chance someone might see us getting fucking cozy together. I could practically hear the fears and doubts whirring around in your head the last few days, so I took the coward’s way out and tried to halt those thoughts by repeatedly fucking you any chance I got, until you were too exhausted to overthink.” 

He had meant the words to make you laugh, but instead you suddenly felt overwhelmed. Your stupid eyes wouldn’t stop watering, and if you weren’t careful your nose would start clogging up too. You had always been jealous as hell of women who could cry prettily, because you definitely weren’t one of them. 

You tried to school your features, tried to put on at least a thin mask of “I’m fine, totally fine” but more tears followed by a hiccuped sob escaping your lips said otherwise. You unwrapped your arms from his neck in order to press a hand to your mouth in an effort to try and stifle the emotions leaking out. 

“No,” he said, stern enough to jolt you out of the overanalyzing spiral your brain wanted to jump down. 

Pulling your hand away from your mouth with a gentle but firm grip, he clasped it between his own hands. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you asked. 

Lifting one hand, he used his thumb to brush away the tear sitting stubbornly on the middle of your cheek. “Don’t do what you did last time. Don’t hide from me again.” 

Sighing, you nodded in agreement. “Fine, but it would be nice if one of these times it was you crying and not me.” 

Humor was a mask of its own, one both of you used to cover up emotions. However, since you were standing there with red-rimmed eyes and he had just verbally confessed his emotions more in the last few minutes than he probably had during the rest of the apocalypse combined, you both deserved a bit of humor. 

“The day that happens, I might as well just chop off my dick and fucking hand that over as well,” he joked back, causing you to smile and shove at him playfully. 

Giving an exasperated sigh, you said “I can’t believe I’ve been so dumb about all of this, thinking...well, assuming totally incorrect things. Guess that’s what I get for not trying to just talk it out.” 

He gave you a mock-stern expression and said, “Well, then let this be a fucking lesson.” He used two fingers to point at your eyes and then at his own, and back to yours. “Partners, remember.”

God, you loved the way that word rolled off his tongue. It was exactly what you had always secretly hoped to find with a man: an equal partnership. Sure, Negan was still the leader of the Sanctuary and had the role of badass motherfucker to uphold, but at the heart of things you stood on equal ground, and your thoughts and feelings and opinions mattered just as much as his own. Not to mention, you would dare him to deny that you were the leader of the kitchen staff. And hey, there was a lot of power in being the one in charge of making sure the entire community was fed. And the fact that he didn’t want to take any of that away from you, that he was proud of your accomplishments, made you fall for him even more. 

“Partners,” you agreed with a nod, running a hand up over his chest. Fingers traced his strong, masculine features before running up into his hair to map the streaks of salt among the pepper. 

Eyes brightening with desire, he stared with laser focus down at your mouth, his nostrils flaring as he watched your teeth subconsciously nibble on your lower lip as you took in this handsome man who was yours. All yours. Seeing the intent in his gaze and knowing where this was about to go by the sudden tensing of his muscles for action, you pressed your other hand against his chest lightly and said, “Wait, one more thing. I have a request.”

“Name it,” he said without hesitation.

“Um...this might seem a bit random, but is there any way you could bump Simon up to having a single room?” When Negan looked at you in slight bewilderment, you continued, “That way Ben can visit whenever he wants.”

His brows lowered, and you were afraid he was going to dismiss the issue as not important, so you pressed on. “In all honesty, it was Ben’s insistence that I be honest and talk things out with you that helped push me to say what I did tonight. I kinda owe him.”

The unspoken words were that Negan kinda owed him too, and his scowl said that he heard them loud and clear. With a slight huff, he grumbled, “I’ll see what I can fucking do.”

Giving a wide smile, you stood up on tiptoe and planted a very grateful kiss on his lips, with tongue included. Pulling back a bit, you whispered against his mouth, “I’d love to see what you can fucking do.”

At that, he scooped you up into his arms with a growl and strode into the bedroom, where he then proceeded to spend a good portion of the night showing you just how thoroughly captured the king really was.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

Extra Author’s Note: Holy crap, was I nervous af to post this chapter. I feel like so much has been building to this conversation between You and Negan, and I wasn’t sure how readers were going to feel about it. I know some people were expecting more drama and angst, especially since this is about the time that romance novels usually throw in the so-called “third act conflict”. However, I personally find it pretty annoying when that conflict is some form of unneeded miscommunication or lack of communication, followed by the characters being apart for a period of time and then coming back together in one grand gesture before bam, an abrupt ending where you’re to expect them to live happily ever after with no more issues. 

Instead, I had You and Negan do that earlier in the fic, with the “Confrontation” chapter where they royally fucked up and had to stumble their way back together, followed later by the pregnancy test argument where they started to fuck up but then both broke their unhealthy fight cycle (You did this by walking away and Negan did it by going after her and deciding to actually listen). And now, with this chapter I wanted to showcase their growth and how they’ve learned enough from past mistakes to move forward. Some people might see this chapter as too fluffy, but I saw it as a way to show two grown ass adults finally laying down their emotional shields and communicating in an open and healthy manner. At this point, I thought Negan and You deserved that, and I hope y’all agree. 

Whether you loved it, hated it, didn’t care, all of the above, etc, please feel free to let me know. I’m so so curious to hear what people thought of this chapter, and if what I was hoping to showcase came across in a satisfying way. Thanks for reading! I’ll be back with more updates after Camp Nano! <3

#negan #negan fanfiction #negan fanfics #irresistible danger #the walking dead #negan's thirst squad #ash writes #twd #negan fanfic #negan x you #negan x reader #slow burn #fanfic #fanfiction #twd negan #the walking dead negan #jdm #jeffrey dean morgan

[harrywritingsbyme]

Kisses In The Rain

Anonymous Said: can you do one where it’s like their third date and its raining so bad so they end up stuck in harry’s range rover and talking til the rain calms down, and in the mean time she asks for some gum and he spits his in her mouth then they make out & gives h a blowie in the back seat?🥺

Based Off Of This Ask

A/N: This is the latest I’ve ever posted and I’m so sorry! But this one is a big ball of fluff and smut with a bad ending. Enjoy🙃

To most, being stuck in the rain is considered to be a pain in the ass and one of the worst things ever. But for you and Harry, getting stuck in the rain was a bit of a blessing in disguise. 

The two of you were leaving from you guys’ third date which was absolutely amazing. Even though it was only the third date, both you and Harry were completely hooked on each other. This third date came right on the heels of you guys having two dates in the week prior to this one, and almost a month after meeting each other for the first time. There was just this connection and spark that couldn’t keep you two away. And when you and Harry were together, the both of you made sure to soak up every second of being in each others presence. 

This is exactly what was happening with you two tonight. 

Harry managed to secure a reservation at one of your all time favorite restaurants and you were beyond excited. Maybe a bit more than Harry. He was so excited to see you again that he changed his outfit three times before eventually settling on something. He even got to your place a bit early so that he could spend more time with you. Luckily for Harry, your excitement matched his and you weren’t at all phased by the fact that he got a front row seat to watch you run around like a chicken with your head cut off as you were trying to get ready for you guys’ date.

After kicking Harry out of your bedroom so that you could actually get dressed without any distractions (not that you at all minded him being there with you), you were finally get ready and walk out of the door with him. Luckily, the two of you were able to beat the traffic and get to the restaurant just in time to make the reservation. Once you two sat down across from each other, you and Harry were in your zone. Even though you guys had been spending a pretty good amount of time together over the past couple of weeks, now going into a month, you and Harry were still in the getting to know each other stage. So there was plenty to talk and laugh about together. So much that the two of you spent almost three hours at the restaurant during you guys’ dinner date. When the waiter brought the check over to the table and said take your time, you two really took that to heart. Instead of promptly acknowledging the bill, about twenty minutes passed before you and Harry paid any type of attention to it. The entire three hours was filled with conversation, laughs, little touches here and there, and since you two were in the more private area of the restaurant, the two of you also shared a few pecks from across the table to each other. 

Even though everything was still a bit fresh for you two, both you and Harry felt very optimistic and hopeful for what was in store for the future of you guys’ relationship. 

After finally settling the bill, that is after battling over who was going to actually pay it of course, the two of you finally get yourselves ready to head out. While you two were packing yourselves up to leave, you could hear some rumblings of thunder outside, signifying to you and Harry that it was time to hurry things along. 

But you guys weren’t as fast as you would’ve hoped.

As if the rain realized that you and Harry were outside, it immediately began to drizzle when Harry handed the ticket over the valet. Luckily for you both (more for you since you just got your hair done), there was a bit of an awning for you both to stand under until the car came around. After waiting for a couple minuets and standing in the rain that was getting a bit harder, the car finally came around, prompting you and Harry to make a dash to the Range Rover that was awaiting you two. Once you and Harry are are safe from the rain (and the cameras that managed to find out where Harry was), Harry wastes no time pulling off from the restaurant. He wasn’t even a good ten minuets out before the real rain began to pour out of the sky. Since it was night time and it was already dark, and now add onto that the heavy rain, Harry decides to move off to the side of the street he just turned on. 

“This might be a while.” Harry huffs. Once the car is parked, he undoes his seatbelt and relaxes in his seat.

“Yeah, but at least I’m stuck with you.” You hum in agreement, mirroring his actions and undoing your seatbelt. You were tying to make the situation a little bit brighter for you two. More time to spend together right?

“I couldn’t imagine being stuck with anyone else.” Harry says through the smile that was forming on his face. When he turns his head in your direction, he’s immediately welcomed with a warm and soft smile from you. As cheesy as it sounded (and Harry was so thankful that he didn’t say this out loud), even though it was just about pitch black and gloomy outside, your smile managed to brighten up and bring warmth the entire situation. That warmth managed to infiltrate his entire body, and push him to lean over the console separating you to bring his lips to yours. When his extremely plush and pillow soft lips touch his, a jolt of electricity runs through your body. It was the same electricity that would come when you two were completely alone with absolutely no eyes watching your every move. Harry could say the exact same thing. Even through you two were in his car that was parked on a random street, the rain along with the now foggy windows from the cool air that was once flowing through the car and the warm air outside created a makeshift shield from you both. And having this privacy made you and Harry want to explore each other a bit more and be close to each other in the same way as if you two were at home. After moving your lips against each others for a little while longer, you decide to make the first move and pull away.

“Can we cuddle in the back seat? This thing is kind of in our way.” You ask, motioning your head down towards the console between you and Harry.

“Only if it means that I get to kiss you some more.” Harry bargains, pushing his lips back against yours for another peck. He couldn’t lie that he was completely addicted to kissing you. So addicted that he was dying to not only kiss your lips, but the rest of your body. 

“Are you trying to have a backseat make out session with me Styles?” You tease him, bringing the hand that had made it’s way up to his shoulder, further up to his cheek to give him a little squeeze.

“Only if you want it to be a backseat make out session.” He continues.

“Well I’ll make sure to leave my shoes up here when I crawl back there. I know you’re crazy about your cars.” You reply to him, pulling yourself completely away so that you could undo your shoes. Once your shoes are off, you recline the seat a bit and strategize on how exactly you were going to get back there. “Now I’m gonna crawl back there. I don’t want you to be a little perv and look up my skirt while I do it.” You tease, wagging your finger in his direction with a “serious” look on your face before moving to crawl into the back seat. Even though you told him not to sneak a look at the treats underneath your skirt, Harry couldn’t help himself. Even though it was a short time frame, he still got to get a little peak at the situation going on under your dress. He thoroughly enjoyed the sight and hoped that he would be able to venture out and explore down there a bit more. 

Once you’re back there and your seat is up, it’s Harry’s turn to make his way back there to join you. He follows suit with what you did and takes his shoes off before reclining and eventually crawling back there with you. Since he’s significantly taller than you, his journey to the backseat wasn’t as graceful as yours but he got the job done and was right beside you in the pretty spacious backseat. Once the two of you were comfortable back there, you and Harry pick up right where you two left off in the front seat. The two of you waste no time bringing your lips back to each others. For the next ten or fifteen minuets, neither of you bother to even try your hands at coming up for air. The both of your are completely engrossed in each other. Neither you or Harry wanted to stop sponging the soft and wet kisses to each others mouths. The way your tongues glided against one another was purely euphoric to you and Harry. 

Who knew that such a simple act like kissing had the power to evoke such feelings out of someone? Or maybe it was just the simple fact that you and Harry were addicted to each other. 

“Do you have another stick of gum? I feel a a little bad for making out with you right after dinner. Don’t wanna give you the dinner and wine breath.” You pant at him after abruptly pulling away.

“Yeah, I have some gum.” Harry chuckles at your statement, completely amazed at how one person could be as adorable as you are. 

“Thanks!” You reply happily, moving back to give him some room to move around.

But Harry seemed to have other plans; or at least the little voice in his head did.

Without even thinking, Harry removes one of his hands from your waist and brings it up to your face. He then softly cups your jaw, forcing your mouth open. Before you could question him, his mouth is on yours and you could feel his tongue agains yours as he pushes the gum into your mouth. When he does this, your head immediately begins to spin. When he does this, you immediately wonder if he’s a mind reader. How would he know that you liked it when your partner spit into your mouth or did something like that?! You were throughly amazed and thoroughly turned on. He then lets go of your jaw and pulls away from your mouth. You were still in complete shock, trying to wrap your head around it all, and Harry was trying to figure out whether or not he grossed you out and scared you off.

“Thanks for the gum.” You shakily whisper to him. Now that you’re looking at him and thinking back to what he did, you’re immediately overcome with the strong desire to just jump his bones. So thats what you do. With the position you and Harry were in, you two sitting next to each other with your bodies turned in one another direction, you didn’t have to think much on how you were going to be closer to him. So without leaving much time in between now and the gum swap, you reach out to pull him back to you by his neck and you fall back onto the seat behind you. Your lips are frantically moving against Harry’s as his body falls on top of yours. At this point, you could’ve cared less about the dinner and wine breath if it meant that it would still give you the opportunity to have this man on you. 

You didn’t even have to tell him that you were into what he did. Simply from the way you looked at him before you pulled him on top of you was enough for him. He was so glad you liked what he did because he couldn’t get the vivid images of him using his mouth to do the filthiest things to you. That includes spitting into your mouth. And now being on top of you and between your legs, those thoughts only intensified. As the kiss continued, you and Harry both were getting turned on beyond belief. After a while, your legs wrapped around his lower back, pulling him down closer to you; all of you. You could feel his growing bulge pressing up against your panties and you weren’t mad at it in the slightest. You had an idea of how big he was, which according to his mannerisms and how he moved around, you’d say pretty big. But feeling him against you was a completely different story. You were starting to think that you were underestimating his size.

As the use of tongue grew, your moans and movements against each other grew as well. It went from soft licks into each others mouths, light gasps and moans, and light, sporadic ruts against each other, to full on deep kisses with a very healthy amount of tongue, louder and deeper moans, and full on dry humping against each other. It was pretty spectacular too. The fireworks were going off in your minds and the both of you wanted to keep this momentum you had going. Then again, for the third time of the night, you pull away from Harry. You cup his cheeks and softly push his head up from yours. 

“The little voice in my head is screaming at me to suck you off right now.” You bluntly whisper up to him. When you say this, his cock immediately jumps for joy in his pants. If there was one feeling that Harry was dying to feel, it’d be the feeling of your warm and wet mouth, along with your pillow soft lips, and your smaller, warm, and incredibly soft hands around his cock. 

“I like to listen to that little voice sometimes.” Harry says shakily. To Harry, you were like a mystical creature. Completely unreal, unbelievable, and perfect.

“I think that me listening to the little voice involves you being on your back.” You whisper to him softly, lowering your hands down from his face and to his shoulders and unwrapping your legs from him. 

“I think so too.” Harry whispers smugly before lifting himself up off of you. After moving from on top of your body and giving you some room to move around a little, Harry ends up lying on the seat with his legs spread for you to be in between them. Before you get in to playing with his cock, you move so that you’re hovering over Harry. You then bring your mouth down to his, pushing your tongue past his parted lips. You then push the gum he once gave to you, back into his mouth before pulling away completely. 

“I need you to hold onto that for a little while.” You whisper to him before moving down his body and between his legs. At this rate, there was no doubt in Harry’s mind that he was going to cum after a couple minuets of having your mouth on him. He just knew it. 

When your mind processes that you’re between his legs, a little bit of nervousness washes over you. You were a little nervous to see his cock and just how big he was. “Just take your time baby.” Harry reassures you, reaching down to stroke your cheek to ease the nervousness he was picking up on. You give him a small smile in return to say thank you, take a deep breath, and you then reach up to undo his pants.

As you undo his pants and everything, Harry was bursting with excitement. He was beyond ready and excited to feel you on him. He watches as your hands fumble with his pants as you undo and now pull them down his legs along with his boxers. He lifts his hips a little to help you being them down and pull them off. Once the pants are out of your way, your focus is completely redirected to his cock that was proudly standing up in his lap. You really underestimated this time. He was huge. It was a bit intimidating , but an even bigger turn on. You were pretty curious as to how you’d fit him in your mouth or inside you at all.

You decide to quit staring at his cock, and just take him into your mouth already. You come in closer between his legs and you reach out to wrap your hand around him. Your hand barely fit around his entire girth. You were definitely in for something you’d never experienced before. When your hand touches him for the first time, Harry couldn’t stop himself from jumping and gasping at the feeling. It was like your hand was made to be wrapped around his cock.

“M’sorry, your hand just feels really nice ‘round me.” Harry pants, trying to calm himself down.

Seeing his reaction to you was a definite and major confidence booster. You were confident that you would be able to pleasure him and really make him feel good. You give him a couple tugs and you bring your head down closer to his cock. You then part your lips and you take the thick crown of him into your mouth. It felt nice. It felt really good to have his warm and big cock in your mouth. As you begin to suckle on the sensitive and thick crown of him, swirling your tongue around and pressing it into his slit, you squeeze and move your hand up and down his shaft. Even though you hadn’t taken him fully yet, Harry was feeling really good. He was dying to feel more of your mouth on him. 

You don’t focus on the head of him for too long because you want to feel just how full your mouth can be with his cock. So you push your head down a little bit more, taking more of his length into your mouth. When you do this you get a better idea of just how big he was. But this didn’t stop you. You continue to take more and more of him until you feel him getting closer and closer to the back of your throat. Instead of stopping, you continue on all the way down until you gag around him and the tip of your nose is touching the hairs surrounding his cock.

“Oh my- Y/n!” Harry gasps loudly. When he looks down he couldn’t believe his eyes. You have a hand squeezing his thigh as you take every last inch of his cock down your throat. After managing to hold him there for a few more seconds, you pull your mouth off of him. While you’re struggling a little to catch your breath, you don’t stop what you’re doing to his cock. You continue to tug at his now soaking wet shaft and you even test the waters of playing with his balls a little. Most of the guys you’d been with weren’t immediately receptive of this, so you were pleasantly when Harry’s moans got even louder and his hips even lifted up into your hands at the feeling.

“Feel good?” You ask him, keeping your focus on his cock.  

“I usually last a lot longer, but you just feel so good.” Harry whispers timidly through a whimper. 

“Just call me magic mouthed Y/n.” You hum jokingly before bringing your mouth back down onto him. 

“Absolutely-“ He wanted to say absolutely not, but the way your mouth was moving against him right now definitely warranted that nickname. The way you were sloppily yet expertly touching him was extraordinary to Harry. Your mouth was perfectly warm and wet and just amazing. What you do next though sends Harry through the roof and right over the edge. You pull your mouth off of his shaft and you push his cock up towards his stomach. You then lick around his balls and you even suck them both (one at a time of course…they were pretty big too) into your mouth. Once you’ve paid some attention to his balls, you lay your tongue flat against the underside of him and you lick all the way up to his head. You bring your eyes up to lock with his and you wrap your lips back around his now beyond sensitive and leaky head. Keeping your hand on his shaft, you bring your free hand down to his balls and you give his cock in it’s entirety a squeeze. By using your mouth and both of your hands, you milk his cum right of his cock and into your mouth. “Fuck Y/n!” Harry shouts as he lets go. The tight and burning release that was bubbling in the pit of his stomach finally overtook him. He couldn’t hold it anymore, you were too good. 

As he came, you kept your mouth on him. You wanted to taste his cum in your mouth. You weren’t typically a swallower, but you felt like Harry’s cum would taste better than the rest (even though you hadn’t tasted many). And you were right. It wasn’t completely horrible.

Once he was all done, you swallow the pretty large load he left in your mouth and you use your tongue to clean up any remnants of the thick substance that didn’t make it into your mouth. You then press a small kiss to the head of his now limp (but still pretty big) cock and you begin to get him redressed. You could see that you really sucked the life out of him with that release so you do your best to get his clothes back on without asking him to do much. After getting his boxers on you move on to his pants but he quickly stops you.

“Don’t worry about those, just wanna cuddle.” Harry slurs. That was what you two were supposed to be doing after all. You drop his pants and you press one final kiss to his cock through his boxers and you lift yourself up from where you were between his legs to his upper body and you lay yourself down against him. “Thank you so much. That was the best I’ve ever had.” Harry mumbles, still completely out of it.

“I’m glad I was able to make you feel good.” You hum proudly, lifting your head to press a small kiss to his chin. “Since were a bit closer to your house, can we go there instead of all the way to my place?” You ask softly. “Don’t wanna get trapped in the rain again.” You continue, trying to make a plausible or moderately decent reason for your request. Even after two make out sessions and a blowie, the rain still hadn’t let up much. 

“Maybe getting stuck in the rain isn’t so bad after all .” Harry whispers optimistically. 

“Maybe you’re right.” You whisper. 

Masterlist

#Harry Styles #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles writing #my harry writing #concepts of h #harrywritingsbyme

[missing-marvel]

The Shape of You (Pt. 4)

Pairing: Vision/Reader

Part 3, Part 5

Words: 5698

A/N: *shows up several months late with coffee and a new chapter* What’s up y’all, who’s ready for more metal husband?

-

You awoke feeling sluggish and hazy, practically choking on dust and resisting the need to sneeze. The feeling quickly shifted to panic as you opened your eyes to even more darkness which only worsened when you tried to move, something blocking the space in front of you as well as tangling around your legs. It wasn’t until you rolled to the floor with a loud ‘thud’ that you remembered falling asleep on the sofa. You didn’t remember grabbing a blanket, however, which had gotten wrapped around your legs in your sleep.

You recognized Vision’s silhouette as he appeared hurriedly from the other room. You couldn’t see much in the dim light, but you could recognize him by his eyes alone. They glowed softly in the dark, that electric-blue bringing some familiarity to your surroundings.

The lights came on and you were momentarily blinded, shielding your eyes with your hand as they adjusted. “Sorry,” you said, blinking the last remnants of sleep away. “I just fell off the sofa. I’m okay.” You took a good look around the room for the first time since arriving, still not bothering to get up off the floor. It looked like a fairly basic living space. There was a patterned rug, a coffee table, some shelves with a few random knick-knacks, the usual. You did notice the lack of a TV, however. You supposed it wasn’t worth investing in one if no one would be living here ninety-nine percent of the time.

Still a bit groggy, you almost didn’t see Vision walk over to you and extend a hand to help you up. To be completely honest, you were perfectly comfortable on the floor but you weren’t going to turn him away. You uttered a quick ‘thanks’ as you got to your feet.

You had absolutely no idea what time it was but it was definitely dark out. Not a speck of light filtered in through the drawn curtains. Whether it was evening or early morning, however, you hadn’t a clue. “What time is it?”

Vision pointed to a digital clock sitting on a bookshelf close by. It read 6:30.

“I only slept for a few hours?” Well, more like several hours, by your estimate. It was broad daylight when you’d arrived. Still, that was surprising given that you’d basically passed out as soon as you got indoors and hadn’t slept in like two days.

Vision shook his head, however, cutting off your train of thought. He held up one finger on his right hand and put it down before holding up nine in total. It took you a second to understand what he meant, thinking he was saying ten before realizing.

“Are you saying I slept nineteen hours?” Vision just nodded and you let out a sigh. That explained why you felt so stiff. That much time on a sofa, even a surprisingly comfortable one, would take its toll. One other thing struck you, however. “Wait a minute, so it’s six in the morning, then? It’s awfully dark out.” You chanced a peek out the window to actually confirm that it was, in fact, dark outside.

You turned back when you heard the familiar scratch of pen on paper. It looked like Vision had found a new notepad somewhere. By the time you walked over, he had finished writing. “Clock is an hour ahead. Haven’t fixed it. Only got power back on a couple hours ago.”

“Oh, that makes more sense.” This time of year, it was perfectly normal to be dark at 5:30. However, it was also cold outside and you were beginning to notice that in here as well. You picked up the blanket off the floor and draped it over your shoulders, pulling it tight around yourself. “Is there heat at all?”

Vision wrote his response as quick as possible, handwriting still impeccable as always. “It’s on but not very strong. Building isn’t in best condition anymore. There’s fuses missing so I prioritized some things. A few lights aren’t going to work.” He stepped aside and gestured somewhere down the small hallway behind him. On the wall was an open panel.

“Wait this place still has a fuse box? The Avengers couldn’t afford someplace with circuit breakers?” You couldn’t help but crack a smile at your own joke, if you could really call it that. You were just happy your custodial knowledge was relevant for once.

“Old SHIELD building,” Vision quickly noted. If this place had been built by the Avengers, it would be far more modern, probably to an unnecessary extent. Tony Stark would only stand for the best, even if it was a safe house that would almost never get used.

“Shield? Are they still around?” You only sort of understood what SHIELD was. No more than any other member of the general public. They were a kind-of, sort-of government agency or something like that. They always kept their stuff super secret so most people never really knew what they did. Then there was the whole deal with Hydra which nobody understood. You decided a long time ago it wasn’t worth worrying about, much like most of the American populace. Perhaps you should have paid closer attention.

Vision simply tilted his hand side-to-side in a gesture that implied that the answer was complicated and really not worth getting into. He shifted the conversation to you instead. “How are you feeling?”

“I should be asking you that. You weren’t doing so well yesterday.” You tried not to let the worry in your voice show, though you weren’t sure what good it would do.

You thought you saw a hint of a smile cross his face as he turned back to his paper. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be alright.”

“Vision...” You recalled back to the other night, when you’d told him nearly the same thing after a couple solid days of no sleep. Before you could retort, however, he’d turned and headed toward the other room, gesturing for you to follow.

The small office space was an absolute mess. The only reason you called it an office was the papers and folders scattered around the room as well as the computer tucked away on a desk in the corner. Underneath a blanket of dust, it looked almost exactly like the first computer you’d ever owned. Actually, it might just be the first computer. You were pretty sure it should be in a museum.

Vision navigated the difficult terrain with ease as he made his way to the desk. You, on the other hand, felt like you were doing a balancing act as you tried to limit your steps to the few parts of the floor that were visible. You didn’t know what all these stacks of papers and folders were exactly, but you figured it was best not to mess with them.

“There’s no way that thing works,” you said once you’d cleared a spot to stand by the desk, your own little island of shag carpeting amongst the sea of paper.

Vision pried open a panel on the side of the computer, carefully removing a CPU board with all the expertise of a seasoned technician. The actual monitor was half buried in a pile of miscellaneous cords and plugs next to the desk. After a brief moment of inspection, wherein he must’ve decided all appeared fine, he went ahead and booted the thing up.

It chugged to life like a patient coming out of surgery, slowly and with great difficulty. It made sounds you were pretty sure should only be coming from a lawn mower but all the lights eventually blinked on in time. As it did so, you braved the sneeze-inducing dust pile for the monitor, the air turning cloudy as you shifted all the junk that had been untouched for years. “I’m guessing you’ll need this?” You hoisted the dinosaur of a monitor up onto the desk, Vision taking it gratefully and nodding a thanks your way.

For a minute after he plugged it in, it seemed the screen wasn’t going to work. Only after staring at it did you realize it was working, albeit extremely slowly. A symbol was appearing on the screen, the shape becoming more discernible the longer the machine whirred. As far you could tell, it looked like some kind of government emblem, like an eagle with a crest in the center. It wasn’t until it had spent a solid minute loading that you were able to read the text surrounding it. “Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement... Logistics Division? What on Earth does— wait, that’s what SHIELD stands for?”

Vision nodded in a way that suggested he wasn’t overly fond of the acronym either. You were beginning to think he wasn’t so difficult to read after all, not like you thought when you’d first met, at least. It just took time, much like reading the decades-old monitor had.

“I think someone just really wanted the initials to spell out shield.” You gave a breathy laugh, more air than sound. “What’re you going to do with this old thing? Can it even get internet?”

Vision shook his head and reached for his paper from the edge of the desk. “Not that kind of computer,” he wrote. You resisted butting in as he tore off a new sheet, still not used to the pauses in conversation that resulted from the rather roundabout method of communication. “It’s wired directly into an old SHIELD system and by extension, hopefully, the Avengers emergency system.”

“Really? I would’ve guessed this place predated the Avengers.” As you spoke, Vision got the keyboard hooked up which had been stuffed into one of the desk drawers. It was missing at least a quarter of its key caps, the really chunky, old kind that made a satisfying click-clack when pressed. Apparently they’d prioritized actual computer hardware over keyboards considering there were offices at your job that still had keyboards just like it. Correction: your old job. You’d almost forgotten.

“SHIELD software was integrated with Stark tech after the Battle of New York. In theory, we should be able to put out an emergency signal on a secure Avengers server from here.” You almost hadn’t noticed Vision writing again as you zoned out a bit.

You would’ve been more excited over good news, but you’d learned over the years what happened when you got your hopes up. “So when you say in theory, I’m guessing the odds aren’t exactly...” You trailed off, unable to continue without sounding horribly pessimistic.

“It will work,” was all he wrote, a noticeable firmness in his grip as he held the pen. You didn’t say anything else but moved closer to the desk, directly by his side now. There was what could only be described as a hint of doubt in his expression before he turned back to the monitor as green text cluttered the screen.

“We can only hope so.” You let your hand brush his shoulder as you navigated back towards the door, no longer particularly caring to avoid crumpling the paper on the floor.

You weren’t sure how long it would take Vision to finish what he was doing, especially with the tech he was stuck with. You found it more than a bit ironic that possibly the most advanced machine on the planet had to use a decades-old computer to call for help. It felt weird to think of him as a machine. After what you’d been through in the past 24 hours alone, you’d begun to think of him as just another person. Well, not just another person, that wasn’t what you meant. How to put it...? You just couldn’t explain it. There was no precedent in your mind for a situation like this. Vision was a living being. As alive as anyone, maybe more so. That much you could say confidently.

Trying not to get too lost in your thoughts, you busied yourself investigating the rest of the apartment, not that there was much to find. Living room, connected kitchen, hallway with the office and stairs that led up to a bedroom and bathroom. All pretty standard. All of it looked fresh out of the 80’s. Well, maybe not fresh.

Just as you completed your lap of the place, you were interrupted by a low grumble from none other than your own stomach. That was a problem. There was definitely not food here. You had no other choice really than to shove the feeling to the back of your mind for now. You got yourself a glass of water to make do. At least the plumbing worked.

By the time Vision came back, it had been less than twenty minutes. “That was quick. Any success?” You sipped your water, ignoring the slight metallic tang it had.

Vision wrote as he crossed the room to stand opposite you from the island counter. “The beacon is active. Now someone just needs to hear it.”

Despite his lack of vocals, you sensed a definite lack of confidence in his words. “How long do you think that’ll take?” You hoped not too long. You were concerned about your food situation.

He didn’t bother writing a response. The expression on his face made it clear; he had no idea. Maybe never, if no one was out there to hear it. You only hummed a response, neither confirming nor retorting. The sound of you sipping your water seemed immensely loud in the heavy silence of the room.

“Well, what do we do now?” You were becoming anxious again. You didn’t like being forced to sit and wait. At any minute, you felt like law enforcement would start breaking the door down.

“We wait. There’s nothing else we can do.” He seemed apologetic. He wished he could give you a more concrete answer, some sort of assurance that this would all work out, but he couldn’t. Not truthfully, anyway.

It looked like you had some time to kill. You weren’t sure what all there really was to do. Still, it wasn’t all bad. At least you had company. “I wonder if there’s a better way we can communicate,” you mused, turning your mind to less dire matters.

Vision seemed to brighten up a bit as he was struck by an idea. “You don’t happen to know any ASL, do you?”

You shook your head. “Unfortunately, no. I assume you do?”

He responded by holding up his right hand in a closed fist and sort of nodded it up and down.

“I’m guessing that means... yes?” It wasn’t a far stretch. You’d actually thought about learning ASL before but never gotten around to it. There were more uses for it than people realized. Too bad work left you too busy and tired to make the time for lessons. Well now you had nothing but time.

Vision just nodded his head in the more familiar interpretation of the word. He grabbed the pen and paper again off the counter. “I could teach you some. At least the important parts, if you want.” He hesitated a split second between sentences, just a bit nervous, though the pause was nowhere near long enough for you to notice. It was barely a stutter in his programming, a single digit skipped somewhere in his code. Nothing to be concerned with.

“Yeah,” you said, maybe just slightly too enthusiastic. “Yeah, that’d be great! I— I mean, it would be useful, you know? Way more efficient than pen and paper. Uhm...” You were struggling to ask how he wanted to start when your stomach growled, providing a convenient segue into another topic. “Heh, sorry. Didn’t realize how hungry I was.” You tried to pass it off as no big deal, although you really were starving. You hadn’t eaten anything since before setting Vision free. It had been well over a full day since then.

He looked surprised for a moment, which he was, before he began writing. For a genius super-computer, he could sometimes be very forgetful of the needs of his human cohorts. They were very fragile things, humans. The need for sleep and food was something Vision never had to worry about, something he realized he took for granted. Something akin to guilt began to gnaw at him when he too realized how long it had been since the escape. He should’ve brought up the matter earlier. “We need to get you food,” he wrote very matter-of-factly. It wasn’t something up for debate.

“I don’t exactly have a lot of cash on me, Vis.” You flinched at the nickname, quick to move on before he could call you out on it. It had been merely a slip of the tongue, just shortening his name for the sake of convenience. It could have been a gesture of friendship towards the android, though you weren’t sure you’d quite earned the right to call Vision a friend, even if you were fond of him. “I’ve got like 10 bucks, tops.” You pulled a few crumpled bills from your pockets to emphasize your point. You obviously couldn’t use your credit card, either. You’d seen enough movies to know that.

Vision thought a moment before coming up with an idea. “It’s not the most ethical thing to do, but I could get cash out of an ATM. It’s technically a matter of survival, after all.” He demonstrated exactly what he meant by phasing his hand through the paper as you read, something that could just as easily be done to a cash machine.

It wasn’t so much the legality of the idea that bothered you. After all, you’d stolen multiple cars. It was the matter of Vision’s safety. Not that he couldn’t protect himself but he would be spotted quite easily if he went outside. That was just a matter of fact. And if someone called the police on a strange magenta man or anything along the lines of ‘robot,’ you could pretty much guarantee trouble. “I don’t know... What if someone sees you? The last thing we want is to compromise the safe house. I can just wait awhile longer, I’ll be fine.”

Your stomach chose that moment to grumble again, completely undermining your point. Vision shot you a look that more than sufficed to communicate what he was thinking but he wrote it down anyway. “It would seem we don’t have much of a choice.”

You sighed, all but forced to agree. Although, it would be nice to get some actual food before your stomach started eating itself. “Fine,” you relented. “But we wait until it gets dark out. It’s safer that way.”

Vision wasn’t about to argue.

-

Memorization wasn’t really your strong suit, but you seemed to do surprisingly well with the start of your sign language lessons. It helped that your teacher was so patient.

Vision thought it would be best to start with a few simple phrases for the sake of saving paper. Common things such as ‘sorry’ and ‘thank you.’ You had the benefit of only really needing to recognize them as opposed to being able to do the signs yourself, since Vision could obviously hear you, but you took it upon yourself to mimic the gestures anyway.

It had been a few hours and your head was starting to ache but you insisted on continuing. You were certain you were doing well and you wanted Vision to be impressed. Not only could you remember how to spell your own name, you could spell his as well. The rest of the alphabet may not have stuck as much but oh well. For now, words and phrases were more important.

“That’s... someone?” You guessed as Vision held up his index finger and waved it in a sort of circle. He’d been quizzing you for a few minutes now, to which you’d done pretty well. He shook his head this time, however, and tried not to look amused by the almost comically offended look on your face. “What? Yes it is! I’m certain that means ‘someone!’” You were insistent on the fact. Vision hadn’t tried to trip you up yet but he must be this time. You tried to mimic the motion, repeating the word as if that would change anything.

He shook his head again, not bothering to hide his smile this time. He reached for your hand, raising it higher to show you that there was, in fact, a slight difference between what he was signing and what you were. For a moment, you looked almost startled, like a deer in headlights. He didn’t miss the hint of color that tinged your cheeks. His assumption was merely that you were embarrassed by your mistake, though it was an easy one to make. He switched back to paper in order to explain. “This,” he repeated his first gesture. “means ‘always’. What you signed was ‘someone.’ See the difference?”

You nodded in understanding although your attention was beginning to drift. You felt like you were cramming for an exam in a class you hadn’t been attending. You may or may not have actually had to do that before. The point was, you’d learned just about all you were going to for the day. And just in time, it seemed, as you glanced toward the curtains, no longer backlit by the afternoon sun. You’d managed to kill most of the day, between checking that the computer was still working and just generally talking with Vision. There wasn’t much else to do, not that you were complaining. You were quite enjoying the android’s company and not just because you were stuck with him. And to top it off, you’d managed to distract yourself from how hungry you were. Until now, that is.

“How about we call it a day on the lessons, hm? I’d say now’s about the best time to head outside. There’s just one thing we have to do first.” You turned and exited the room without explanation, only saying you’d be right back. You ran upstairs to the bedroom, hoping you could find what you needed. You hadn’t voiced your plan to Vision, although you saw no reason for him not to go along with it. It was a smart idea if you said so yourself. At least that’s what you told yourself as you began rifling through drawers.

Vision wasn’t sure what to think at first when you came bumbling down the stairs again with a messily folded bundle in your hands. But your intention became clear quite quickly once you’d returned, immediately holding out the clothes to him before bothering to explain.

“I hope this isn’t rude but you kind of… stand out. I just thought, maybe it’d be a good idea to disguise yourself. Just for safety. Is that okay?” You hoped there was no offense taken by the gesture. In truth, you were glad Vision was going with you and not just because of the money thing. You didn’t feel particularly safe walking the streets alone at night, especially when you didn’t know the area. But having Vision by your side made you feel nigh invincible. There was just the small issue of technically being wanted criminals.

He smiled, more to himself than anything. It was just strange, he thought, how concerned you were with his opinion. Of course he wasn’t offended. It was a smart idea. He chuckled a bit, although it was a strange action given his physical state. The motion of a laugh was there, his shoulders shuddering as any human’s would despite his lack of need to actually breathe, but there was no sound. It was one of those mannerisms that was ingrained in his programming, though he wasn’t sure quite where it came from. Not from Jarvis, certainly, since the AI had no physical form, and Ultron likely hadn’t been terribly focused on such gestures at the time of his creation. In reality, it was simply something he’d picked up on his own, even if he wasn’t aware of it.

You let out a breathy chuckle of your own as he took the clothes, glad to see he agreed with you wholeheartedly. He got dressed quickly, leaving only his face visible when he was done. Luckily, it was cold enough outside for him to get away with wearing gloves, a scarf and a hat. The clothes were a bit old-fashioned but in a professional way. The long wool coat and slacks in particular gave the impression of a scholarly type, perhaps even a professor. You couldn’t help but think it was a good look for him.

“Well don’t you look just dashing,” you teased. You’d found a coat for yourself as well, deciding your own jacket wasn’t going to be enough. You silently thanked whatever SHIELD employee set this place up for supplying a myriad of spare clothes. “Oh, one more thing.” You turned to the coat rack by the door, grabbing a scarf that had been left hanging there. “Just in case.”

You hesitated at the front door. Despite the fact that you were merely going to look for a convenience store or something similar, your anxiety spiked as though it were a dangerous mission. You could just imagine all the ways you could get caught. It was almost enough to make you stay here, slowly starving to death waiting for something to happen. Vision noticed your apprehension, however, and did the first thing that came to mind to soothe your worries. He gave you a warm smile, holding out a bent arm for you to take. He thought you might find the somewhat old-fashioned gesture funny and he was right. You laughed, taking his arm anyway. It was a nice reminder that the odds of anything bad happening were tremendously low, which you mentally repeated to yourself as you stepped outside.

-

Everything had gone off without a hitch. There was a small grocery store a few blocks down which you’d run into just before closing time so the store was nearly empty. Vision had waited outside near the ATM, which had provided the funds you needed. Other than the bored clerk at the store, you hadn’t seen so much as a single soul this whole trip. By the time you and Vision were walking back, burdened by just a few days worth of groceries (which would ideally be more than enough), your previous worries had all but melted away.

You only wished the weather matched the feeling. Nothing was melting in this cold. In fact, a few snowflakes had begun to fall. They were almost mesmerizing under the blueish haze of the streetlights, whipped into a frenzy by the faintest of gusts. The sight wasn’t enough of a distraction, however. You couldn’t help it when a shiver wracked your body, your coat not doing nearly enough to prevent it. Vision noticed this, however, and stopped you both in your tracks.

He was quick to reach for the paper and pen in his coat pocket, a look on his face of more concern than you thought necessary. It was only a little chill. “Are you cold?” The question wasn’t particularly necessary, the answer being obvious. Still, it was polite to ask.

You tried to shrug it off, noticeably tensing to suppress a second shiver. “I’m fine. Let’s just hurry back.” You turned to keep walking, knowing there was still a decent walk ahead but he stopped you, putting a hand on your arm for the briefest of seconds. He just looked at you a moment, seeming to forget about his paper. You caught the faintest hint of conflict in his expression, though you didn’t know why. “What is it, Vision?”

Realizing he’d made you worry, Vision seemed to snap back to his senses. He gave you a reassuring smile and reached for his scarf, undoing it quickly. You were facing him, standing close enough to see the circuitry in his eyes. He paused again, however, debating his next action. For a being that didn’t have nerves, he sure felt nervous and didn’t fully understand why. He moved at a pace far slower than he was used to, hesitantly wrapping the scarf around your neck for you. His touch was light as a feather as if he were afraid to touch you. You could do nothing but watch him, lost in the details of his eyes and face as your grip on the grocery bags began to loosen involuntarily.  There was a moment where neither of you moved, his hands still lingering on the loose fabric of the scarf.

Your heart skipped a beat at the gesture, mind racing to find a logical conclusion that didn’t concern such things as the vague and confusing emotions that spiked in your chest just then. It was cold, so Vision gave you his scarf. Your hands were full, so he put it on for you. But what you couldn’t answer was why he lingered the way that he did and more importantly, why your chest began to feel tight in a way that wasn’t as unpleasant as you’d think. The most sensible reason you could think of was that he was simply a gentleman, and perhaps a little unfamiliar with personal boundaries. That was the only possibility you had the strength to consider. Anything else would open doors you were afraid to even imagine.

Footsteps scraping heavily against the pavement cut the tender, if rather nerve-filled moment short. You turned toward the sound, though Vision remained facing slightly away, bowing his head somewhat in an attempt to conceal himself. You froze when a figure emerged from the alleyway; a heavy-set man whose posture listed to one side, most likely from some kind of injury. His clothes were noticeably old and ragged, most definitely not warm enough for this weather. You would’ve asked him if he needed help were it not for the knife he brandished at you.

“Look, I don’t want any trouble,” he said, his voice wavering. Funny, you were just about to say the same thing. Clearly, he wouldn’t be doing this unless he was desperate and in a bad situation. Unfortunately, you weren’t much better off. “I saw you, I know you have cash. Just hand it over and no one gets hurts.”

Under normal circumstances you would’ve complied but you’d used up pretty much all the cash you got and you couldn’t risk giving him your wallet. If your ID found its way into police hands there’d be government agents swarming this place before you ever got the chance to bail. “We don’t have any money left, I swear. Please, just walk away.” You moved slowly, setting the grocery bags on the ground and raising your hands in surrender without making any sudden movements that could set him off. You weren’t as afraid as you probably should’ve been, choosing to try and reason with the man rather than flee, which would probably be the smarter option.

The man stepped closer to you, his grip on the knife visibly tightening. He was nearly within arm’s reach now which wasn’t ideal but you held your ground. Vision caught the man’s movement out of the corner of his eye, his hand reflexively grabbing at your arm protectively. The man furrowed his brow, glancing between the two of you in confusion. At this distance, even without Vision facing him, he could almost definitely tell something was strange here. Having given you his scarf, the only things covering Vision’s face were a hat and upturned coat collar. You spoke up again, drawing the man’s attention before he could get too close of a look. “This doesn’t have to get messy. Please… ”

You weren’t sure exactly how long the three of you stood there, time frozen around you. The only things that moved were the snowflakes that had grown more frequent in the past couple minutes. The man finally shifted, albeit barely, one foot scraping harshly against the concrete as he braced himself. He glanced between you and Vision again, jaw clenched tightly. “I ain’t walking away empty-handed. I can’t. Just gimme your damn wallet.”

Vision tugged gently on your arm. You weren’t sure exactly what he was trying to say, either trying to pull you closer to him or signal that you should run. You didn’t think running was a good idea. You feared Vision’s injuries acting up again and you didn’t want to test your own speed either. You turned back to the man, desperately pleading at this point. “I can’t …”

“Then I’ll just have to take it from you.” He didn’t give you another chance to argue, immediately lunging at you haphazardly. He couldn’t even get close to hitting you, however, as Vision’s reflexes were far superior to the man’s. The android grabbed his arm, twisting it painfully to the side and forcing him to drop the knife. The man yelped and threw a punch at Vision, who dodged it easily. The man didn’t seem to understand just how drastically outmatched he was, not even now that he had a clear view of Vision’s face. Whatever was going through his head, he still seemed to think fighting was his best option. He took another swing at Vision who, up until this point, had no intention of fighting back. But he was left with few other options. He pushed back against his attacker, sending the man sprawling to the ground with a painful ‘smack’ as he hit the pavement. There was genuine fear in his eyes when he looked back up at the two of you.

“Vis, we gotta go.” It was you holding his arm now, pleading with him to leave. He nodded quickly, completely in agreement. The two of you paused only long enough to scoop up the dropped grocery bags before making your escape. The man didn’t dare follow you as you disappeared down a side street, desperate to avoid any more prying eyes. This was the exact sort of thing you’d been afraid of when you’d left the safe house. You could only hope the man kept his mouth shut about what he’d witnessed tonight but it seemed luck may not be on your side.

-

A/N:  I want to mention that I don’t personally know much ASL and had to rely on videos, etc. so if anything at all is wrong, I apologize. Feel free to call me out.

#vision/reader #vision x reader #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction

[minimitchell]

Thank you! I’m the one who asked about a ballum ff and there is no rush at all. It would include smut but that’s ok no 🙂 It would be Ben & callum travelling in a night bus (to somewhere) and they’d be in the very back of the bus and none of the other passengers would notice their little action time (bottom Ben straddling callum). There’s no plot lol. Callum would actually be asleep and Ben waking him, hands already all over him/under his shirt and he would have some convincing to do for Callum to be on board with it. Or something like that. Could include some funny/embarrassing moments (for Callum).Tx! .. no need to post this maybe. 😇 Or just call it the night bus request. 🚌 💕

the fantasy of you and i keeps me up awake at night (ao3 link)

sorry it took a while, anon, but here we go. also this is so outside my normal comfort zone for smut but i'm hoping y'all enjoy it anyway.

.

Taking a bus from London to Amsterdam might easily be the worst idea they have ever had.

The worst part is that there isn’t even a solid reason for them doing this. It’s not like they can’t afford a flight to Amsterdam, they definitely can. But for some reason Callum somehow managed to talk him into taking a Flixbus across the channel, just to save a few bucks. We’re homeowners now, he said. We should save money where we can, he said.

Ben kind of hates how easily he folds when it comes to his husband.

They’re about halfway through the hours-long trip, somewhere in France in the middle of the night, and the already quite empty bus is dark and mostly silent, except for that one guy near the middle who’s snoring like a small chainsaw. It seems like all the passengers are dead asleep right now - everyone except for Ben that is.

Him and Callum are in the very last row of seats; Callum in the window seat and Ben next to him. There are rows of empty seats in front of them, all the way up to the middle portion of the bus, so at least there’s some illusion of privacy. It’s definitely better than the bus being filled to the brim.

Callum is turned towards the window, a sweater bundled together to rest under his head like a pillow. He always does this on long journeys and Ben isn’t jealous of it at all, no way. He just wishes he could fall asleep in a car or on a train or on a plane, but sadly he can’t. Not like his husband can.

Ben has never been able to sleep in a moving vehicle. Ever since he was little he just couldn’t do it. It’s always too loud or not dark enough or he isn’t comfortable enough to fall asleep. Which is a pretty unfortunate circumstance when you’re trapped in a bus for hours on end in the middle of the night.

At first, he tried doing other things to keep himself entertained. He watched some videos on his phone, bothered Jay until he obviously fell asleep himself and then tried just looking out the window at the French countryside. Nothing helped alleviate his boredom and he certainly wasn’t going to spend the rest however many hours just sitting around here.

He needed something to tire him out or at least keep him occupied for some time.

And he has just the idea what that could be.

Ben leans forward into Callum’s space, letting his hand run up and down Callum’s arm, slightly shaking to get him to wake up again. He can’t have been asleep for long, or in a deep slumber yet, because he starts twitching almost immediately; that familiar crease between his eyebrows appearing like it always does right before he wakes up.

“Babe? Babe. Cal, wake up.”

There’s only a groan as a response, but Ben can tell Callum is well on his way to consciousness right now. Even if he’s probably still hoping Ben will just leave him alone if he doesn’t engage.

“What?”

Callum turns around to face him, eyes still stubbornly closed; almost like he’s planning on falling back asleep once Ben has told him whatever he wants to say. Not if Ben gets his way though.

“I can’t sleep.”

Ben can feel more than hear the annoyed sigh Callum lets out at that. He cracks one eye open, peering down at Ben beside him, and whatever he finds must convince him he’s not going to go back to sleep for a while, because the next thing he does is sit up straighter, opening both of his eyes now.

He’s probably used to it after well over two years with Ben. His inability to fall asleep on the road has come up time and time again since they got together. At first, Callum thought it was a cute little quirk; like you always do when you’re first falling for someone and everything about them gives you butterflies.

He still gets them now, the butterflies, but by now Callum is probably more than aware of the fact that Ben’s sleeplessness when travelling affects him as well. Because Ben expects to be entertained by him, or at least for Callum to stay awake with him.

For the most part, Callum is fine with that seeing as they’re never really going anywhere one of them doesn’t drive to but on rare occasions like this one, it’s pretty damn grating. Callum definitely knows they’re both going to be tired and grumpy when they arrive in Amsterdam and that isn’t really how he wants to start this little getaway.

“Have you even tried?”

Ben rolls his eyes in the dark of the bus, only illuminated by the passing streetlights outside. He’s glad it’s not enough for Callum to see his expression; he needs to be on his best behavior if he wants to convince Callum of this idea in his head.

“You could help me fall asleep, you know.”

Ben’s hand runs over Callum’s thigh and dips lower to the inseam of his sweatpants, fingertips brushing against his dick over the soft fabric. Callum doesn’t turn away from the touch, but he does lift his thigh a little so that Ben’s hand dislodges from his place against his cock.

“Ben! No.”

“Come on. No one will notice.”

He leans in close to whisper the words into Callum’s ear, making sure to dart his tongue out and trace along the lobe for good measure afterwards. He’s not above pulling out all the stops to convince Callum to do this with him right now. It might have just been a quick throwaway idea, but the more he thinks about the possibility of it the hornier he finds himself getting.

His hand dips lower again; fingers dancing up and down Callum’s shaft. This time, Callum lets him continue his actions; his dick slowly but surely hardening under Ben’s touch.

“Absolutely not.”

Callum’s protest is weak, his voice already way too breathless to be taken seriously by Ben. If he really were against this, Ben would stop immediately. But he knows his husband pretty well and he can read his body like a book. Every little reaction is telling enough for Ben.

It’s all the go-ahead he needs.

“S’not what your dick says.”

As if to prove a point, Ben tightens his hand, reveling in the hard intake of breath Callum does in response to it. He can tell his husband is trying his hardest to keep the noises in. So much so that Ben almost lets the desire to coax each sound out of Callum overtake him, damning any embarrassing consequences it could bring.

“Because you keep, hm, keep touching it.”

Ben barely manages to keep his gleeful laugh in when Callum pushes his leg out, opening his thighs wider and giving Ben better access to his dick. It means he can crowd in even closer and twist his hand just right, now firmly holding onto his husband’s length. Callum’s head tips backwards against his seat, eyes closing against the onslaught of arousal.

The taught, white skin of his neck is too inviting for Ben not to lean down and attach his mouth to it, trailing up and down.

“Ben, we can’t. Not here.”

Callum leans far enough back to catch Ben’s eyes. Ben thinks he’s trying to look stern and he’d probably succeed if Ben didn’t have his hard cock in his hand right now. The least he can do is offer him some relief.

Ben’s free hand runs up Callum’s chest, his fingers playing with the collar of his dark blue sweatshirt. He presses his nose back up against Callum’s cheek, looking up at him from under his lashes. There’s a smile playing on his face that always seems to come so naturally to him whenever he’s with Callum, even if he’s trying to be sexy right now.

“We’ll be quiet.”

“You’ve never been quiet in your life during sex.”

It’s a good point. An extremely good point considering how many pointed comments they received that period of time they were living at Stuart and Rainie’s flat. Or from Lola before that. So yeah, Callum does have a point when he says he’s not the quietest person during sex.

And it’s not like he can talk as well. Callum is incredibly noisy when he wants to be. Or rather, when he lets himself be.

Maybe Ben just needs to take it up a notch in order to get Callum on board with this.

“It’ll be a laugh. Come on, I know you, baby. You like it a little dangerous. Out in the open. Remember, I know all your fantasies, babe.”

It’s true. Ben had an inkling that there was a secret exhibitionism kink hiding behind Callum’s big innocent giant act when he had no qualms about getting hot and heavy in the park during their first intimate encounter together, but he had no idea just how much Callum gets turned on by the chance of them being interrupted or heard by someone else.

He isn’t opposed to the odd quickie in the car lot or at the Arches when Ben is supposed to be working and anyone could walk in at any time. There are times he gets his husband so riled up with little comments and strategically placed touches that he drags Ben into the toilets in the Albert to give his mouth and hands something else to do. And they’ve even revisited that park once or twice to pay a little tribute to the thing that started it all between them.

So he knows perfectly well that the thought of doing anything here, where any other person on the bus could easily wake up and figure out what exactly they’re doing, must be quite exhilarating for Callum. He can’t really play the purity card when Ben can physically feel him growing harder at his hushed words.

Like he said, he knows Callum. They’re open and honest about what turns them on and off, what they like and dislike. No one has ever known him as intimately and deeply as Callum does and Ben knows it’s the same the other way as well. Ben loves that.

It also means that he can pinpoint the exact second Callum lets himself give in and shifts into what Ben teasingly calls his sexy mode. It’s a win for Ben, for sure.

“You’re lucky I love you.”

Callum wraps his arm around Ben’s waist and tugs until Ben understands what he wants him to do. He sits himself square on Callum’s lap, legs resting on either side of Callum’s hips on the plush seats and fingers immediately finding a home in Callum’s hair, combing through the strands. He hasn’t had it cut in a while, too lazy to do it so close to their little holiday, and Ben can’t find the words to say just how much he loves it like this. He looks almost prince-like when it’s all soft and flat on his head and it’s the prettiest thing in the world to Ben.

“Thought you were gonna say I should be lucky I’m so fit.”

“Hm, that too.”

Callum’s smirk tastes a lot like bliss when their lips meet in a kiss, their tongues brushing almost immediately. Ben is trying hard to keep the sighs from escaping his throat, knowing they have to be quiet for this to go any further. But he can’t help it, kissing Callum is close to being the best thing he has ever gotten to do.

Even if he tried to convince himself otherwise at the time, Ben knew that first time they kissed each other that it was different with Callum; that it felt different with him. When their lips had met that night, he had felt it in his bones. Ben knows how rare it is to feel this way and Callum has never made him feel any different since.

Ben’s hands leave their place in Callum’s hair to travel down his chest, running over the soft fabric of his sweatshirt. He can feel the intake of breath Callum does when he reaches the edge of his sweatpants, fingers dipping under the waistband. Ben looks up to see if there’s any hesitation on Callum’s face, any sign that he isn’t one hundred percent on board with this, but Callum seems perfectly fine by the looks of it, with his eyes still closed like he wants to savor their kisses and the tips of his ears turning pink.

The grey fabric gets pushed down just enough for Ben to free Callum’s still hard cock, lazily sliding his fist up and down the shaft. Seeing Callum bite his bottom lip to refrain from making any noise at Ben’s actions fills him with a surge of heat that travels all throughout his body. Maybe they have to look more into this, if Callum’s inability to make much noise gets Ben so hot and bothered.

Right now though, he’s more concerned with getting himself undressed as well, just enough to get Callum in him. It’s a tight fit back here and Ben has to move around a fair bit to get his own pants far enough down to still be able to move on top of him. Ben has had sex in cars before so he knows how to maneuver himself, but a cramped seat on a bus is still vastly different from lying flat on your back in the backseat of a Ford.

They keep a small packet of lube in the side pocket of the backpack for situations just like this one and it turns out to be a godsend again and again, this time being no different. Ben is the first to admit he used to be a little bit slutty and while he doesn’t care for sex with anyone that isn’t Callum anymore, some remnants of that time in his life still remain. Remnants, for which having lube on hand at all times proves to be very helpful.

He’s glad Callum appreciates their spontaneity as well.

At any other time, Ben would let Callum open him up. His fingers are long and slender, thick enough to fill him just right, and they’re sure to drive him positively mad each and every time. Callum knows where and when to drag, to go fast or when to let Ben catch his breath to keep him teetering just on the brink.

But space is limited as it is and it’s easier for Ben to reach down and open himself up. Besides, seeing the way Callum’s face shifts into open hunger and desire as he watches Ben touch himself more than makes up for the lack of his husband’s fingers in him. There’s so much heat and open amazement for Ben in his eyes, it makes Ben breathless with want for the man in front of him.

The air around them feels thick and stuffy; charged in the best way possible. Ben keeps his lips firmly pressed together, effectively trapping in any sounds threatening to escape; his free hand digging into the skin of Callum’s biceps, making dents in the skin. They could easily be the only two people in this bus, in the world, right now. It feels like it; it always does.

Everything is zeroed down to just them when they’re together like this, like nothing else matters except for them making the other feel good. And he wants nothing more right now than to make Callum feel absolutely wrecked.

Ben detracts his fingers when he feels like he’s at least somewhat ready, reaching out to coat Callum’s dick with the excess lube on his hand. Before he can wrap his fingers around Callum’s length though, he’s stopped by a hand on his chest, causing him to catch his husband’s eyes almost immediately.

“Wait.”

Ben is about to climb down from Callum’s lap, thinking he has changed his mind about this and wanting to give him space, but Callum keeps him seated with a hand on his hip now. Instead, he’s leaning down himself, his other hand disappearing in the backpack still sitting in the space under their seat.

“What?”

The confusion doesn’t lift when Callum eventually finds what he must have been looking for, unearthing two condoms from somewhere in the bag. They obviously haven’t used condoms in ages but they still keep some just in case. Better than throwing them away, right? Ben just doesn’t understand what Callum wants with them now.

“I’m not about to get cum on this bus. And neither are you.”

Ben doesn’t really care about it, but he’s not going to start arguing with his husband when he’s this close to getting lucky. Callum could probably ask him to wear a clown costume and Ben would do it if it meant he’d get fucked by Callum in a timely manner. He’s that whipped for his husband’s dick.

He lets Callum roll the condom onto his dick, suppressing the moan clawing itself up his throat when Callum runs his fingers up and down the length of it for good measure. Maybe having to be completely silent while he’s getting laid is going to be more difficult than Ben had first thought.

Before Callum can put the condom on himself though, Ben stops him to do the honors himself, coating Callum’s dick with the excess lube still covering his other hand. He sinks down as slowly as he can, almost drawing blood from how hard he’s biting down on his bottom lip to keep quiet.

The fabric of Callum’s sweatpants is a stark contrast to his smooth skin and the feeling is simultaneously alien and exhilarating. They don’t have a lot of clothed sex, not like this anyway, and the almost foreign feeling against his bare ass is another stimulant for Ben’s already overloaded brain, all mixing together to create a mess of heightening arousal.

Ben eventually bottoms out, head tipped back and mouth open on a silent gasp. He can feel Callum’s heaving breaths where he’s pressed against him, his chest rising and falling in quick tempo.

“You good?”

Callum mumbles the words into Ben’s own shirt, pressed against his sternum. He sounds wrecked from just those two, little words; out of breath and completely wild. It’s one of the best sounds Ben ever got to hear; topped among other things only by Callum’s uninhibited moans when Ben makes him feel especially good.

Ben’s head tips back forward to nod at his husband, sealing their mouths back together when he begins to move. The rise and fall of his hips pushes sounds from him that he stifles by pressing his firmly-closed lips against Callum’s with all his might. Callum’s hands are fisted in Ben’s shirt, bunching up the back and wrinkling the dark red fabric.

It’s fucking good - it always is with Callum, better than anything he’s known before - but when Callum moves to adjust their bodies to meet Ben’s thrusts halfway, it becomes a little too good. On the next down movement, Callum thrusts up as well and the subtle change in their position means he’s now able to hit deeper, nudging right against that spot that makes Ben see stars.

Callum must be able to sense what this is doing to Ben, must be able to read his body and its tells better than he does himself, because he reaches around to clamp a hand over Ben’s mouth, pushing one finger in for Ben to bite down on it, nipping the scream that’s about to topple out of his mouth in the bud before it can be unleashed.

It would be a miracle if no one heard his moan, even muffled by Callum’s hand over his mouth, and Ben thinks they can really count themselves lucky if they didn’t manage to wake anyone up with it. He’d be more preoccupied with it, if he weren’t so trapped in the feeling of pure pleasure overtaking every nerve-ending in his body.

He’s panting hot against Callum’s hand now; heat spreading in his belly to announce his impending orgasm hurtling closer and closer. It doesn’t feel fair to Ben that he’s the only one struggling to contain his moans though; he thought Callum would have a lot more difficulties holding back.

It’s a good thing he knows Callum better than anyone; knows exactly what makes him lose control. It’s definitely a dirty trick to play but the whole reason they’re doing this right now is because they like it a bit dirty, right? So Ben doesn’t exactly feel bad when he lets one of his hands wander down to Calum’s chest, expertly finding his left nipple. He clamps his other hand over Callum’s mouth before he pinches his fingers, reveling in the way Callum’s hips involuntarily buck upwards in response.

Callum lightly bites the palm of his hand in retaliation and Ben can’t help but smile at it, even in the midst of heavy passion. He just really loves it when Callum is being silly and playful with him. Especially during sex.

The smile quickly dies down though when Callum’s free hand wraps around Ben’s cock, setting a punishing rhythm. Ben isn’t sure when this became seeing who can make the other come first, but he isn’t complaining. Not at all.

Not when it means he gets to feel that burning sensation take over his entire body, his muscles tensing and then relaxing as the waves of his climax wash over him. He must pinch Callum’s nipple again in his haze of pleasure, because he bucks into Ben again once, twice before he’s also coming. The hand that just moments ago had coaxed Ben’s orgasm out of him now snakes around his middle to pull him closer into Callum’s body.

They’re so close they might as well be one entity, one sole person. Their hands fall from each other’s mouths, wrapping around any skin they can reach to unite the two of them in a tight hug. Ben tucks his head into the crease of Callum’s neck, waiting until the tremors subside and their breathing returns to a normal pace.

It takes a lot longer than Ben would like to admit for him to regain the feeling in his legs enough to dismount and fall into the seat beside Callum again. He has just enough brainpower to take the condom off and tie it, thankful for Callum taking it off of him because he would have no idea how or where to get rid of it right now.

He pulls his pants and underwear back up, trying to make himself look at least a bit presentable, but his movements feel slowed down; his limbs already being pulled under the mantle of sleepy exhaustion.

Ben is still too out of it to notice what exactly Callum does to get rid of the condoms but whatever it is, it only takes him a few moments until he leans back into the seat, putting on his own clothes again as well.

“You okay, darlin’?”

“Hm. Tired.”

Callum lets out a quiet chuckle, pulling Ben into his side, letting him tuck himself into his body. He’s definitely all too aware of the fact that Ben always conks out almost immediately after sex and Ben feels his eyes fall shut as soon as his head is pillowed on Callum’s chest.

The last thing he’s conscious of is Callum pressing a kiss to his forehead, mumbling something about getting Ben to shut up, before finally, finally, falling asleep for the remainder of their journey.

He’ll have to keep this in the back of his mind for the ride back.

#ballum #ballum fic #my wriring #posting this now to hopefully get over that block i have about my bb

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Hello yes, could you elaborate on the Comte wedding event pleease. Crying and fangirling and dying are all acceptable. I missed it and I adore your rambles about Comte? Thank you either way.

!!! I’d be delighted to!! And awww, I’m so glad :D I love to write about him in any capacity, it makes me so happy to know people enjoy it when I do! Tysm for the full license to cry/fangirl/die because lbr it ain’t a Comte event if all three of those things don’t happen .Please don’t worry, I don’t mind talking abt it anyway! 💕💕💕

Okay my fellow Comte stans, you know the drill! I’ll be placing the details of the Wedding Story Event (jpn version) below the cut! Please don’t read if you want to wait for the official translation, and I hope you enjoy if you do take a peak! c:

AIGHT Y’ALL in fair Verona where we lay our scene-- This event begins on a lovely summer day with Comte and MC at a boutique picking out a wedding dress for their upcoming ceremony. As usual, she provides a bit of background as to how we got here. Comte doesn’t have a proposal event (as far as I know) like the other suitors because he actually proposes marriage in his MS. I won’t go too far into details just in case, but they essentially swear their love to each other in a church at night--just the two of them. (I’m not 100% sure, but I think this event takes place on the anniversary of the vow that they shared, what Comte called becoming “a vampire’s bride.” Yes it’s as hot as it sounds AND I LOVED IT). Now, despite their private promise to each other, Comte does specify that he fully intends to have a public wedding whenever she feels comfortable doing that. As such, this event is picking up from there.

With all the nitty gritty settled, it’s time to get to the fun bits. So Comte is weaving in and out of the dresses, trying to find the perfect one for his beloved. MC is equal parts exasperated but amused, and she notes that it reminds her so much of when she first debuted in high society (reference to the beginning of Comte’s MS). Back then, when she agreed to debut, he told her that he would immediately send word to his tailor to make the necessary preparations. It’s a kind of nostalgic moment; she remembers how thorough and excited he was (”I’ll be sure to show off your every charm”), and he’s effusing that energy in the boutique too. Eventually he settles on two of them and requests that they both be prepared, and MC sputters. She’s like Comte???? W H Y we only need one dress???? And he insists that, since it’s a special occasion, there’s no harm in it is there? He also goes on to say that it is in line with her culture’s tradition of “dyeing the bride in the husband’s colors.” MC shoots back that the tradition doesn’t entail several wedding dresses for the bride, but he pays the correction no mind. Y’all. I loved this part because it just emphasizes how much of a LIL SHIT he can be. Like he’s 100% harmless but I was like BOI IF U DON’T--I WILL KISS UR CUTE FACE. YOU STOP THAT.

I find it interesting especially because it remains in line with a trend about Comte that is so arresting for me, something that I find so endearing about him. I’ll note other places in the event I find it, but in this moment he is revealing something critical: for all of his capacity to play with the language and expectations that other people have/use, he only ever uses it for good. Here he’s purely being playful (with a stark note of respect and awareness); he has no intention of overwhelming her or undermining her cultural expectations of what a wedding means. Especially because MC, even in her monologue, isn’t truly upset--she honestly seems to find it adorable and funny more than anything. It’s also clear that Comte is working within her comfort zones. While he would buy the entire damn boutique if she let him, he settles on two because he knows it would stress her out otherwise (MC tends to be p pragmatic, not really about extravagance she is a mood).

And so they make their selection and exit the boutique, and they’re walking arm in arm back to the carriage. Comte laments narrowing it down to only two, but he’s happy they found something nice. MC thanks him for bringing her along, but he says it’s only natural--he wanted to pick out the dress the world would see together, he would never be happy with it otherwise. MC melts (WHO WOULDN’T) and says she’s really looking forward to wearing them, and he’s shook AF. 

(OKAY BUT I NEED TO SCREAM ABOUT THIS. DOES HE UNDERSTAND HOW TOUCHED I AM. DOES HE KNOW. His route hammers home this idea that for Comte, being with someone absolutely means being on the same page. It means being there for each other yes--but it also means making sure the other person feels wanted and included. He could have so easily just picked his favorite and been like “yeah this is what we’re going with.” But not only does he not do that, he refuses the very idea of a ceremony without it. He wants this to mean something for both of them, and he’s more than willing to put in the time and effort to ascertain that. I’M FUCKING TENDER OKAY. HE CARES SO MUCH AND I SOB)

He asks her if there’s anything else that she really, really wants for their wedding, and she thinks it through. It’ll be a reasonably sized wedding, with the men of the mansion in attendance and most of their closer high society friends. They’ve picked out a dress, the venue is set, the people closest to her will be there...she really can’t think of anything else? So she asks him if he has anything he really wants to do for the wedding, and he replies in the negative too, saying that “My only ideal wedding can be one in which I can see you at your most happy." ARE YOU KIDDING ME--Before MC can recover from that, he goes on: "Even now, I'm enjoying the preparations, and I want to do whatever I can for you." MC feels like she can never win against his sweet affection, so she nearly kills him with her answering line: "It’s more than enough. More than anything, being able to swear our love together again--to renew our vow--is the best part of it all." Comte is visibly shocked and is quiet for moment (MAN DOWN!!!!!!!!! VAMPIRE DOWN GET THE DEFIBRILATORS!!!!! LEONARDO PUT THAT LIGHTNING ROD AWAY I SWEAR TO GOD--) before he just replies with a “Is that so :>>>” And translating this nearly killed me [At the sight of his gentle smile, I smile back.] IM GOING TO SCREAM THEY ARE JUST SO TENDER IM SOFTE????????????

As they’re walking, Comte asks MC to tell him about weddings in her time. What were they like? He wants a reference point. She goes on to describe how ceremonies really range from formal to more informal affairs, and gets to a little custom that’s apparently held in Japan. When a groom intends to marry a bride, he will go to the bride’s family to ask for their approval. Comte visibly seems concerned about it, and I’m pretty sure he feels bad denying her that experience; not only did he propose to her without knowing any of that, her family isn’t within range to be able to honor it properly now. Even so, he keeps listening and comments now and again with a great deal of interest, paying close attention. He asks, what happens if the groom is rejected by the family? MC goes on to say that it’s a kind of test of perseverance: the groom is expected to ask/prove himself until he gets an answer in the affirmative. Internally, she notes that such a thing rarely ever happens irl--it’s mostly dramatized in movies and TV shows. She used to dream of how thrilling it might be to have someone do that for her, but it was mostly just a silly little fancy, nothing she was obsessed over. Comte, being a literal fucking legend, senses this emotional shift in milliseconds, and starts musing about something. When she tries to ask what’s up, he’s like not to worry leave everything to me.

PLEASE CUE THE CIRCUS MUSIC. BECAUSE THIS IS ABSOLUTELY GOING TO TURN INTO A CLOWN FEST.

So it cuts to them back home and Comte is asking Sebastian to give MC’s hand in marriage. Sebastian is utterly bEWILDERED and is like “I mean I understand I’m probably the closest relative she has right now but also WHAT!? YOU’RE MY BOSS/LORD I’M YOUR BUTLER FOR CRYING OUT LOUD”. Comte 100% is undaunted by this very normal reaction and insists that class/status has no place in matters like this, and Sebastian and MC are desperately trying to stop him from bowing his head/kneeling. MC notes she never expected him to take it to heart, tells him "Comte, you really don't have to go that far, it's a custom not a duty--" (IT’S SO FUCKING FUNNY????? YOU CAN FEEL THEIR MOUNTING CONCERN AND I CAN’T BELIEVE COMTE WAS STRAIGHT UP JUST “i am not above begging” AND THEY’RE LIKE YOU SHOULD BE YOU SHOULD BE ABOVE BEGGING)

The circus only escalates when Leo comes in LAUGHING HIS ASS OFF "damn...bahahahhahahaaaaa now THIS oughtta be good/interesting." MC (and I simultaneously) start yelling at him and he replies "What? Comte's already ready and willing, why stop him?" For whatever reason, this gives Comte an idea (NEVER A GOOD SIGN) and he’s like you know what? That’s actually perfect, get everybody in here I’m gonna ask them for permission too :D

Several things I want to say about this. 1. COMTE LITERALLY DOES NOT EVEN REACT TO LEO’S MOCKING HE JUST “omg ur face was useful for smth for once this gives me an idea” 2. META TIME. First and foremost, I seriously can’t deal. This man knows MC has nothing because of her traveling through time, no friends or family--he’s always so, so aware of what she’s sacrificing to be with him. It is never outside of his thinking. Not only does this decision solidify her presence as a member of their family (I’m just so UGLY SOBBING about the fact that he does not consider them all ANYTHING LESS--THEY ARE HIS CHIRREN AND HE LOVES THEM AND I’M SOFT) this is also such a brilliant, strategic move on his part. Not only is he doing this to fulfill her younger wishes of having someone be so confident in their love for her that they would insist on it in front of her family/loved ones--his doing this also solidifies her presence as his wife within the mansion from here on. There can be no mistake; this is an unquestionable statement as to how her identity has shifted in meaning, a powerful allusion to his possessive streak. (and WE LOVE THAT FOR US HELL YEAH) 

Furthermore, I continue to be fascinated by the way he keeps subverting traditional or expected forms of supplication. While many could see this as a yielding of his pride (and in some ways he undeniably is) this choice to acknowledge her culture’s customs yields much more valuable dividends for him. 1. MC--notorious for never betraying the things she wants, having trouble asking for anything--is have her dreams fulfilled even if they were just silly little fantasies from when she was young. He’s actively making her happy, and he gets to openly gush about how much he loves her (FOR HIM THIS IS THE DEFINITION OF A WIN-WIN YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND--) 2. This is a way for him to make amends and do proper respect to the marriage customs of her place/time, and that’s infinitely important to him. He’s trying to set a precedent; that even if he ever does make a mistake or neglect something (even if accidental) he will do his utmost to make it right, pride and money be DAMNED. 

While it can be argued that he’s just being silly and over-the-top, when you look closely this is 100% a clever, very mindful approach to their future. While it may partially have been executed on an emotional/excited whim, he is also claiming MC as his own in the most clear and respectful way possible. And tbh that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen 

So, after Leo walks in on them everyone else starts filing in one at a time (OKAY YOU CAN’T CONVINCE ME THAT THEY WEREN’T ALL HUDDLED UP TO THE DOOR SQUIRMING TO HEAR WHAT WAS GOING ON AND AT SOME POINT LEO SAID “omfg i gotta see this dumbass bitch on his knees” AND BLEW THEIR COVER/MADE THEM EVEN MORE CURIOUS):

Jeanne: "It's so noisy in here." 

Mozart: "What's going on?"

Comte: "Ah, excellent timing. I want to get permission from everyone."

Vincent: "?????? Did you do something wrong Comte?? What could you possibly need forgiveness for?"

Isaac: "A mistake made/wrongdoing by Comte?...Why am I dreading what it could be..."

Dazai: “Ah yes, yes I see, you are asking for a young lady's hand in marriage” (IM WHEEZING BC EVERYONE ELSE IS SO LOST AND HE'S JUST 100% ON THE BALL KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT'S GOING ON THE NARRATIVE DISSONANCE IM CRYING)

Theo: Young lady??? The hell are you going on about

So things are getting increasingly chaotic and MC is just [jfc this is getting out of hand, Comte they don’t even know what you’re asking them to do]. She tries to explain but falters, and Comte puts an arm around her--signals that he’ll give  them the context. So he tells them "You all know that our wedding day is approaching. As such, I'm asking you all for your approval in taking MC as my bride. No matter what happens, I promise to make her happy forever--for every moment, every second of our time together. Please, forgive my taking her" (WHEN I TELL YOU MY HEAD WAS IN MY HANDS IDK HOW MC DIDN’T DIE ON THE SPOT S I R. SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) MC: [...Comte...My heart melts at his confession, at his earnest plea. It feels like every single iota of our feelings are infused in every word he speaks, teeming with the love shared between us in overwhelming measure.]

For a little while silence falls until Napoleon speaks up, and honestly? It was so sweet ;-; I tear up every single time: “Forgiven. You know how much I dislike formalities anyway. And besides, who could say no to le Comte?” MC notes that everyone murmurs in agreement and a kind of warmth settles in the room. Arthur notes that MC will be a Comtesse very soon and MC just. I’m going to be a WHAT now (”C-c-comtesse??”). And it’s so FUCKING FUNNY YOU CAN FEEL THE RED EYE EDIT MEME ON COMTE WHEN HE GOES “Oh? Is there anything wrong with that? Everybody said yes, after all :>” MC internally accuses them of ganging up on her, but reveals that more than anything she’s a little overwhelmed by the outpouring of love in the best way:

MC: [Overwhelmed with feeling; touched, a little shy, embarrassed, but also full of joy--my eyes burn at the edges with tears] “I'm glad everyone approves c:”

Comte: Agreed :> your country/homeland has a nice custom. A v important step to inviting my loved one into my life as my wife :>>>>

So it then cuts to them in Comte’s room after the circus and MC thanks him for the sweet confession in front of everyone, tells him how happy it made her. He insists that it was only natural he would, and that it isn’t even enough.

Comte: “I am the one...your life, your time as a human being; I'll be taking all of it from you.”

MC: [...Comte? He took my hand with a very serious expression]

Comte: "As I said before, I will make you a vampire someday."

MC: “Don't call it that--a price. I want to live with you too!”

MC notes that while she hasn’t made the leap yet, she knows she’ll be ready for it soon enough. 

Comte: “Thank you. But the last thing I want is to take things from you, I want to do everything I can to make you happy, to make you smile. Whether that means weddings, requests--anything in my power.”

COMTE REALLY SAID "she is entrusting me with her future and that means I have the responsibility of not only ascertaining her happiness, but proving my unwavering devotion to it" AND IM HOLLERING????? LADIES GET YOU A FUCKING MANS. MC finally begins to understand this, and she’s like OMFG is that why you went off so hard this afternoon???? And Comte’s like :>>>> guilty as charged, though I think I'm also just still excited about the wedding too, haha! They hug it out (YESSSSSSS LET ME H O L D) and MC asks him again if there’s anything he wants for the wedding too. Aight y’all I would be irresponsible if I didn’t warn you beforehand, get fucking tissues. I’m still upset abt his answer and I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL. He thinks about it for a bit, before kissing her forehead and saying “I suppose, can you pray for my happiness too? That's enough."

AIGHT IMMA GO BACK TO THE EVENT IN A SECOND BUT I GOTTA SAY. BITCH. BITCH ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME????? COMTE THAT ISN’T OPTIONAL THAT’S A GOD DAMN PREREQUISITE?????????????????? OFC WE WISH FOR YOUR HAPPINESS WHAT THE FUCK??????????????? THE A U D A C I T Y. I’VE NEVER BEEN MORE INSULTED IN ALL MY LIFE. OKAY RANT OVER.

MC is surprised but naturally agrees to it, having wanted that for him even without prompting. She continues to think on it, insisting that she wants to do something for him too. An idea sparks but it only says that she made preparations without telling him anything for now, preparing a tangible sign of her love for the wedding.

The premium end begin here. She’s getting dressed for the wedding, and she’s--as usual--in awe of his perfect selection of accessories/jewelry to go with the gown. She’s about to put on her shoes when she notices something odd, and there’s a knock at the door. Comte enters to ask if she’s ready, and they both freeze and stare at each other. They both sheepishly admit to being completely taken with the sight of the other, and they laugh about it together. Comte tries to ask if she’s ready again, and she assures him that she is--just that she found something unexpected in her shoes.

He explains that the coin is an English six pence. Sebastian told him that they are no longer made in her time, and Comte explains he acquired it about three hundred years ago in England when he was living there (he says that he kept it back then because he liked the design on it). He explains that there is a tradition, that the English would put a six pence in a bride’s left shoe in the hopes of wishing her good fortune and prosperity in her oncoming union. MC has her understandable and customary (JESUS I FORGET HOW OLD THIS MAN IS SOMETIMES) and he places a hand over hers that’s holding the coin when she starts staring at it. 

Comte: "Hey, MC....Time goes by, and various things will continue to change. Among them, it is only vampires who survive without dying or changing."

MC: "Comte..."

Comte: "I used to think that made it--made us--empty. But...I don't think that's the case anymore. I'm proud of being able to keep this undying, unchanging love for you."

[He put the coin back in my left shoe, and offered them to me--gentle as though they were made of glass(Cinderella's)]

MC spends this exchange on the verge of tears, but keeps it together for the wedding. It depicts their loved ones all around them as they walk down the aisle, and skips to the end of the ceremony. The priest tells Comte he may now kiss the bride (WHEN I WAS TRANSLATING IT SAID “KISS YOUR BUSINESS” AND WHEN I TELL YOU I WHEEZED), but just as he’s about to lift her veil--she stops him in his tracks. He’s confused, and says her name, but she reassures him that she just wants to offer him a wedding gift before he lifts it. Hidden in her bouquet are two pins that she had made, and she pins them to his jacket. They were made from preserved flowers, encased in metal to render them undying/everlasting. 

MC: [Me too...I want to wish for your happiness...]

MC: “For you, things might feel fleeting--like they just pass you by, are lost before you can grasp them. But even so, my feelings won't change; just like this preserved/undying flower and the life of a vampire--dedicated to [Comte's real name] in everlasting love."

COMTE.EXE HAS CURRENTLY SHUTDOWN. REBOOTING.

MC notes that his eyes get misty and he leans his forehead against hers.

MC: [Comte's real name]? 

Comte: .................I want to hug you as tight as I possibly can, but I'd hate to ruin the flowers/your gift to me

BITCH WHEN I TELL YOU I SOBBED. WHEN I TELL YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 1. I CANT GET OVER THE FACT THAT HER GIFT IS NOT ONLY CANON BUT ITS LITERALLY ON HIS WEDDING SPRITE, HER LOVE IS A VISIBLE MANIFESTATION ON HIS PERSON ALWAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2. THE FACT THAT SHE ONLY ADMITS TO BEING THE HAPPIEST SHE CAN BE WHEN SHE SEES HIM SO HAPPY TOO. THIS IS SO MUCH. SO M U C H

And so Comte lifts her veil and kisses her gently uwu cover ur eyes chirren, the hall erupts in raucous applause and the crowd starts congratulating them!! Comte then encourages everyone to have fun, and the reception takes on the vibe of a kind of social gathering. MC notes that he seems to prefer this level of interaction, just relaxed and everyone chill, and she turns to tell him that it seems like it’ll be fun! Before she can finish her sentence, he kisses her fiercely before leaning back with a sigh, "It's still not enough, but I'll save the rest for later tonight." BITCH!!?!?!??!??!? HOW THE FUCK CAN ANYONE FOCUS ON A STUPID PARTY WHEN YOU SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT, HELLO???????MC notes: [Everyone from the mansion that saw the kiss made fun of me endlessly, and I hid my face in my bouquet] SAVE HER. Once again, it skips to the end of the reception and they’re now in Comte’s room. (I will blink twice if I think you need tissues BLINKS TWICE) 

Comte: "Yup, perfect." [He places the flower pins I gave him next to THE hourglass in the room, looking pleased HNGNNGNGNNGGNGN MY EYE HOLES ARE SUFFERING

MC: "I'm glad you liked the gift c:" 

Comte: "It is proof of your unchanging love, of course I cherish it :>"

She’s just so happy to see him so delighted with it. He asks how she liked the ceremony, and she gushes about how much she loved it. He hugs her (AWWWWWWWWWWWW) and then he notes that while it was fun to celebrate, all he wants now is time with his wife (AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA). He starts kissing her like the world is ending, and she says she needs to get changed--but he doesn’t care, says she’s fine as she is and that he wants her right now.

Aight usually I don’t get into epilogue territory, but honestly, this shit was JUST too good. Now this man made of magic asks MC if she’s wearing her bridal garter (you know, the one that usually comes with the whole bride ensemble in Western tradition). And she’s like ???? Uh, yeah, of course? Why... He says that he saw something interesting at a friend’s wedding reception once upon a time, and explains that the garter is usually removed and thrown to the bachelors (analogous to the bride’s throwing her bouquet, and whoever catches it will be the next to get married). PLEASE NOTE HE IS KISSING HER FOR LIKE 90% OF THIS IT’S AMAZING

MC: "So it's like the bouquet toss?" 

Comte: "Yes. Now then, how did he remove the garter...?”

HE DUCKS DOWN AND SHE’S LIKE COMTE!?!?

Comte: “...Ah yes, the groom removes it with his teeth >:D”

And so this man HAS THE TIME OF HIS LIFE tugging it down slowly under her dress, caressing her legs and loving every part of her. MC’s face is on fire, and she’s torn between being turned on and embarrassed. Eventually he reappears after teasing her MERCILESSLY and admits that he didn’t do it at the reception because he didn’t want anyone else to see her reaction. Blushing, shy, desirous--all of these feelings are his to keep and enjoy. (I!!!!! LOVE!!!!!!!!!! HOW SUBTLY POSSESSIVE HE IS AAAAAAAAAA) MC notes internally that she feels the same way about him, how he only shows this intensely passionate side to her. Comte is uncharacteristically impatient and frenzied that night, and they both go at it.

It skips to midnight where the two are cuddling in the aftermath, just being cute and happy. Comte, the absolute MADLAD is already thinking about how to celebrate next year--and she just giggles at him (he’s a wackadoo but he’s her wackadoo LMFAO MOOD) and he laughs with her. They essentially swear to promise their love over and over in the future, and it just ends on that wholesome note :>>>

Also can I just. The fact that he lived for so long alone, but was always, always paying attention to all of these little things that are done with a person’s loved one ;-; that he would remember his friend doing that at his wedding and be like BROOOOO I WANNA DO THAT IF I EVER GET MARRIED!!!!!!!!!!! I just. It’s so heartbreaking and touching at the same time, I just want to hold him forever ;-; the fact that he doesn’t seem to worry as much about his own happiness, seems absolutely floored that MC would do anything in return. I JUST LOVE HIM WITH EVERYTHING INSIDE OF ME 

THIS IS WHAT PEAK PERFORMANCE LOOKS LIKE

#asks #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp spoilers #ikevamp comte #ikevamp saint germain #ikevamp wedding event #NOW I CAN REST IN PIECES O-<--< #today on: reasons why i would die for comte no.347 #will i ever stop? no #do i have a problem? probably #but i have a tumblr account and the ability to write and i am making that everyone else's problem fdkjlhgfdjkh #but i hope you enjoyed my rambles!!! #you're always welcome here friend! :D #tho yall story time #when he asked abt the garter i started SCREECHING bc i knew EXACTLY where it was going #in middle school i saw a guy do it once at a wedding but i didnt know what the sex^TM was so i didnt think anything of it #i was like haha weird wedding tradition go brrrr why is everyone whistling #and when i was reading i just immediately was sent back and i was like OMFG HE'S GONNA DO IT ISN'T HE THE WILD MAN #but honestly i cant get over how romantic comte is #he has no necessity to enact all these little rituals--i dont really know if he even believes in any kind of religion at all #(i dont think he does honestly but he never speaks to it directly) #but the thought of sharing that with her #of doing those things to make her happy and express his feelings #it makes me so very softe #i dont even believe in all of those wonderful things and yet he makes me want to humor that kind of belief #also idk why the cuts arent working properly on the tumbles i apologize in advance im trying to figure out why

[markszone]

Water Gun Wars (feat. Haechan and Johnny)

Summary: You find the boys in a water gun battle in the middle of a school carnival... 

Pairing: boyfriend!Mark x female reader

Genre: fluff, fluff, fluff, crack

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.5K

(A/n: this is my first EVER Mark one shot ahahaha !! I was bored on a hot quarantine day... hope you enjoy!!❤️)

It was the day of the annual summer carnival in school and you were late, as always. Since you were a part of the organizing team along with Mark, the leader had mentioned showing up a bit earlier than planned, but you overslept since it was a Saturday. You quickly threw on something comfortable and appropriate for the heat and left immediately. 

It wasn’t long before you reached the school grounds. You rushed to the back of the school field where there were already plenty of people who had arrived. There were booths set up all across the field and bouncy house castles. You walked around looking for the event organizing team leader, it wasn’t long before you found him holding his clipboard giving orders to another member. He eyed you and you walked up to him.

“I’m here,” you said.

“And you’re late,” he responded.

You shrugged once again it was Saturday, meaning it was a miracle you even got off your bed.

“Find Lee and make sure he’s doing something productive,” he ordered.

“Find Lee, got it.” you nodded. 

You walked around looking for your boyfriend, which was hard to do since there were so many people. 

It wasn’t long before you found him drenched in water near the cotton candy booth sporting a black short sleeved polo shirt, a pair of denim shorts and white sneakers. He had a water gun in one hand and cotton candy in the other. He looked heavenly and you stopped breathing for a moment until you realized you were staring too long, you shook your head and got back to reality and walked up to him.

“Mark,” you called.

He looked around and found you and his smile widened. He started walking towards you and you both met halfway. He offered some cotton candy by motioning it towards you and you gladly accepted. “Hey, cutie,” he said, still smiling and kissing your cheek. 

“Hi,” you replied. ““Why are you all wet?”

“Haechan and Johnny shot me and soaked my shirt,” he answered. “I need to find them and retaliate.” Waving the water gun around.

“I can see that you’ve been doing a great job locating them,” you said dryly.

“A soldier must eat in order to go to war,” he pointed out. 

“Well, looks like you’re fighting a losing battle,” you said.

He raised his green water gun and stepped forward. “You dare challenge the mighty Mark?”

“No, I’m sorry just lower the gun.” You rushed.

“You don’t give me orders, pretty face,” he said.

You opened your mouth to remind who really was in charge, but he splashed water in your mouth. You spat out the water, when he shot both your shoulders. You watched the water seep into your blue shirt revealing the outlines of your bra.

“Mark I can see my bra!” You cried.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he replied, smirking. He immediately felt bad and apologized while trying to block you from other people’s vision while still playfully smirking.

“Come on I’ll buy you a shirt,” he said

“It’s pretty sunny I can wait for it to dry,” you said, not wanting him to spend money on you. 

“Well, I feel uncomfortable with it,” he said, grabbing your hand holding you a bit behind him, so he could block you from the eyes of males.

“You’re being a tad protective, don’t you think?” You raised a brow.

“You’re being a tad too comfortable considering we are surrounded by teenage boys,” he replied.

“Point taken,” you said.

You stared at his hand clasped in yours and couldn’t ignore the thrill that ran through you at the sight. Everything felt magnified each time you touched, like every fiber lit up by his touch. Your thoughts got interrupted when he dug his hand through his other pocket and pulled out a walkie talkie.

“Don’t say anything,” he warned.

“Why?”

“Because I’m in the midst of a water gun fight with Haechan and Johnny who are both on the same team, so I radioed into their channel and am listening to their conversations,” he explained excitedly.

“But isn’t that cheating?”

“There is no such thing as cheating, just strategic planning using unethical methods,” he said solemnly.

“Wow that actually sounded smart,” you said impressed.

He pressed a finger to your lip and pressed a button on his walkie talkie.

“Chicago Prince, this is FullSun,” Haechan said. “I repeat this is FullSun.”

“FullSun, this is Chicago Prince,” Johnny replied. “Come in.”

You bit your lip to control the giggle that nearly passed your lips at their childish roleplay.

“Did you spot the target?” Johnny asked.

“I just received a tip that the target was last spotted near the popcorn stand,” Haechan answered. 

“Meet up at the popcorn stand, you’re buying me popcorn,” Johnny stated.

“Roger that. FullSun logging off.”

“Chicago Prince logging off.”

Mark clicked the button and put it back in his pocket.

“Okay. We have to avoid the popcorn stand,” he said.

“Mark quit listening, you're ruining the fun,” you said.

“Fine, I won’t listen to it,” he obeyed. 

You stopped by a booth selling your school’s merchandise, and bought you a shirt. You thanked him and immediately went to the girls restroom to change. You found him waiting outside and ran up to him.

“Come on, I’ll win you something.” You grabbed his hand.

“Shouldn’t I be the one to win you something?”

“Maybe, after,” you suggested.

“Oh, there’s a basketball booth,” you said.

Many of the players seemed to be getting a high score. So you were gonna try. Mark handed a bill to the guy and you quickly grabbed the basketball.

“Baller for life,” you said cooly, before throwing the ball and watching it fall a few feet short of the hoop.

“There was something wrong with the ball.” You frowned.

Mark held his fist to his mouth trying not to laugh too loud and you shoved him.

You finally got the last ball in just when the ringer rang signalling the end of your turn.

“What did I win?” you asked eagerly.

The operator dug his hand in a jar and pulled out a hair band. “Here.” 

“I won a headband?” you asked slowly.

“Yes,” he said flatly.

You handed the headband to Mark. He held it staring at it curiously.

“What do I do with this?” he asked, confused.

“I won it for you, wear it please,” you urged.

He stared at it hesitantly, before placing it over his head and sweeping his black hair back. You hadn’t realized he could get more beautiful, but with his hair swept away neatly he did, exposing his handsome face while revealing his forehead and high cheekbones. Mark Lee truly is a sight to see.

“C’mon, babe, I’ll win you a real thing,” he said cooly while grabbing your hand and kissing your cheek. “Thank you though,” he smiled at you.

“Freeze!” 

You both turned around to see Haechan and Johnny with their guns aimed at Mark.

“He took a hostage,” Haechan dramatically yelled. 

“This just turned into a search and rescue,” Johnny dramatically yelled, as well.

You were going to move away before  you got caught in their gun fight. When Mark forcefully grabbed your waist and placed you in front of him, his left hand softly gripped your left arm and the right hand held his water gun to your head.

“I’ll shoot her,” he warned.

Chivalry really was dead.

“Are you serious? I’m not getting soaked again,” you whine.

“Let us leave and there won’t be any casualties.” Mark offered.

“We’ll risk it,” Haechan said carelessly.

“But she’ll die,” Johnny said looking conflicted.

“If you don’t have the stomach for it, I’ll handle it,” Haechan said seriously.

Were these boys serious about life? It was a water gun fight. Not a war zone.

“Truce,” I called.

“Hostages can’t call truce.” Haechan chuckled.

“Mark call truce,” you said.

“Never,” he said, shaking his head. “I’d rather die.”

You turned to face him and touched his cheek softly.

“Please call truce for my sake. My fragile heart can’t handle any more surprises,” you whispered to your lover. 

“I’ve never called truce before, babe. I’ll sound like a loser,” he said lowly, defeated.

“No baby, you’ll sound brave,” you convinced him.

The cute boy stared at you for a long moment.

“Truce,” he called lowering the gun.

“We won,” Johnny said excitedly, walking to Haechan and doing a handshake.

“By default,” Mark added. “And only because I had to protect my woman.” 

“I thought we’d have to shoot you for a moment. Glad it never came to that,” Haechan said relieved, putting his hand to his chest.

“Yeah, I could never do that to you,” Johnny added, wiping a fake tear.

“Yes, I’m glad,” you said smiling up to Mark, wrapping an arm around him and kissing his cheek. 

Even though you knew he didn’t like losing, you were grateful Mark had put his pride aside for you. He’d do anything for you, actually.

“Ugh babe, not in public!” he exclaimed, cheeks flushing and a smile forming. “Come on, I’ll take you home.” 

#mark lee #mark lee nct #nct mark lee #mark lee drables #mark lee scenarios #nct mark fluff #mark x you #nct au #nct 127 #nct #nct scenario #nct drabble #nct smut #nct blurbs #nct boyfriend #mark x reader #nct mark x reader #haechan #lee haechan #johnny #johnny seo #mark #mark fluff #mark drabbles #mark scenarios #kpop au #kpop fluff #nct one shot #nct romance

[houndin-around]

First off I just wanted to say thank you so much to everyone that follows me and deals with me 🥺💕 I kinda can’t believe I’m at 100? I have a lot more up coming so bare with me!! I also wanted to try my hand at writing a few headcanons for some of our favorite boys involving how they handle their emotions when they first find that special one! Will do some more later! And since I reached 100 followers I will also be releasing some of my world-building headcanons about my CEO Maul AU that is in the works!

Wolffe- This boy gets extremely, overwhelmed with his emotions and in turn, he begins lashing out at others accidentally. It's simply because he doesn't understand how to control all these new emotions he's experiencing and he's confused and scared. After all, he's not even supposed to be feeling like this so he feels as if he's failing:

*Ever since you convinced Plo Koon to aid his men to Aleen for support, Wolffe has started feeling weird. Any time you tried to approach him though, he was rather reserved and sometimes gave you the cold shoulder. That is until you kept pestering him and eventually broke that beskar like a shield he had up.

*He doesn’t understand what it is, and he’s convinced he’s picked up a bug or something while planetside. Though he refuses to admit being sick and keeps it to himself.

*Part of him doesn’t understand why he has the constant need to get off 24/7 either, and somehow his mind always ends up wandering to you.

*Maker is he spiraling in the hell of feelings.

*During a skirmish with the 501st, he starts lashing out at Boost more than usual because it’s a “life or death” situation, and any mistake they make during these drills reflect on the battlefield. Even though it’s just a friendly game Skywalker organized to keep the troopers entertained but also practice strategizing.

*As days pass, and the more you’re around Wolffe begins secluding himself more. Trying to deal with the weirdness he’s experiencing, still not able to pinpoint what the hell is going on with him.

*“Good you’re here.” When Sinker manages to locate his Commander and he barges into his quarters while starting to interrogate him.

*Wolffe felt like a blaster shot got him right in the chest. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, knowing he couldn’t escape Sinker’s questions. The commander hadn’t even noticed his emotions were controlling his behavior he was too wrapped up feeling like a defective clone.

*Wolffe knows clones weren’t supposed to have feelings, only to do their duty by serving the republic and that was it. Not even allowed to have possessions and yet, the idea of you being his was something he couldn’t suppress. It was wrong but anytime any other man spoke to you, held your attention he longed to stun them with his blaster.

*Eventually, Sinker was able to get Wolffe to unravel everything he was hanging onto. At first teasing, the commander was his first instinct, however, once he noticed how uncomfortable and shrunken the man in front of him was he immediately began comforting him.

*Wolffe made Sinker swear not to tell a soul, in exchange for relentless teasing and inside jokes between the two now. Something Wolffe “hates” but it’s better than everyone knowing, especially you while he gets all the advice from his brother on emotions, love, and most importantly how to get you in his grasp.

*“Kriff Wolffe, I’ve never seen you blush so much,” All Wolffe could let out was a low growl, eyes too focused on you walking down the hallway. Just the way you smiled and greeted him left him in a trance. “Guess that’s why they call it puppy love! Get it, Wolffe! Maybe we should just call you Wolffe Pup!”

*“Cut it out di’kut.” He hissed, walking away to escape to his quarters.

______________

Echo- This precious baby is worried he's not good enough for you. He's super shy and just wants to treat you the way you deserve is that too much to ask?

*100% hopeless romantic, but not sure how to execute it.

*This boy is SOFT. But he’s not one to seek out that attention for himself, he just wants to bask you in that attention, making you feel like you’re his whole world. Because you are. He’d do absolutely anything for you. But in the beginning, it was hard for him to even consider himself worthy of your love. He never knew what love actually felt like until he met you, but he was always intrigued by the idea of love.

*When he first locked eyes with you, it was in a cantina on Tatooine. Wrecker insisted on checking the planet out to scope out any odd bounties to take care of since there were no current missions.

*Of course, once his eyes met with yours that was it. A chill ran down his spine, and his cheeks were dusted with a rosy hue. Butterflies filling his stomach. Once the rest of the bad batch caught on, boy did they give him hell.

*Majority of their time on Tatooine, Echo would wander off by himself into town in hopes to run into you, but knowing damn well he wouldn’t try anything. He was far too scared and self-conscious about it. Especially after meeting the Techno Union, he didn’t feel worthy of your time, didn’t feel like he deserved anyone. He felt like a monster.

*If he wasn’t looking around for you, he was sitting outside the bad batch ship, prosthetic knees pulled into his chest as he pondered the true meaning of love. Considering the possibility you are what most call a “soul mate.”

*All the secret reading of holo novels and never prepared him for the true experience and now he’s left alone with his thoughts. Hatred building at all his imperfections he now has.

*Tech at one point tried to explain the whole biological basis of love and theories supporting it, but that only made Echo’s head spin. On the other hand, he had Wrecker in his ear on the vulgarities of love. Though, because these troopers were different, they didn’t discourage their brother either. They fully supported whatever would make him happy which only made him think of Fives even more. Fives would know what to say and guide him in the right direction because after all Fives always had civies swooning over him.

*“For Fives.” He’d repeat over and over, trying to muster the courage to even approach you at the market. Echo wanted his brother to be proud of him for stepping out of his comfort zone in an attempt to discover if what he was truly feeling was love.

*Even though he was embarrassed to admit it to himself, he attempted some of Fives’ pick up lines but when the words tumble out of his mouth…they sound more like rambles, managing to forget the important parts of said pick up lines leaving Echo red and more flustered

*He’s honestly so precious trying to follow in his brother’s footsteps. Even if he’s making a fool out of himself, the giggle he gets from you is so rewarding that he keeps coming back to your vendor stall.

*The way he sees you look at him like he’s not broken and defective based on his cybernetics makes his heart leap. He finally found someone that hasn’t pitied him or trying to fix him.

*This is love. This is without a doubt the definition of love he was searching for. Crosshair was wrong. Soul Mates did exist, and it was you. Maker was it you, and he will do his best to try and show you how much he cherishes you as he learns more.

________

Fives- This man doesn’t stop at anything!! We all know he’s a popular man, but when that one special someone has his heart that’s it. He’s 100% devoted and will try to win their love every single day as if its started all over again. His pick up jokes are hella corny though and I will die on this hill!

*Confidence!!! Need I say more? Especially after a few drinks at 79s.

*This man will not hesitate to invade your personal space and whisper sweet nothings in someone's ear. Except when he tries it on you? He earns a swift smack to the face, damaging his ego a bit.

*Boy, the look on the rest of the 501st’ face should’ve been holorecorded. He’s NEVER rejected. But you weren’t the type to entertain drunk strangers. Despite the embarrassing encounter, Fives is plotting another scheme to get your attention. Although let's be honest, he’s always scheming!

*Even though he has a pretty high body count, it never meant anything to him. Just some stimulation and stress relief. However, that all stopped when he laid eyes on you. He swore to himself that he’d do everything in his power to be with you. But not just intertwined in the sheets, no, soul and all, hand and hand.

*Fives has heard about love before, but he never really thought he’d find someone who made him feel like that. If he was being honest with himself, he was kinda skeptical about it. After all, he didn’t really know anyone who experienced it. At least he wasn’t aware.

*It took him quite a few days of talking in the mirror and hyping himself up before he dared to try again before it dawned on him you may not even be there again. This kind of sends him spiraling a bit, anxiety starting to creep up on him like a Rishi Eel.

*One thing about Fives though is he’s determined. He was willing to wait as long as he possibly could to cross paths with you once more in hopes to patch things up and catch your attention. Some of the boys had Kix check up on their brother as he was constantly rambling to himself, thinking about all the possible scenarios he’d had with you at 79s. He managed to convince everyone he was fine though, just strategizing.

*His second attempt at winning you over went a little something like this; You were leaning against the bar, talking to a friend while he waltzed up to order a drink. He notices your friend begins to nudge you, only for you to roll your eyes once you see who it is. Of course, he’s got that stupid grin on his face, ready to work his magic. “You look tired darling.” His mouth hovers over the brim of the glass, eyes locking with yours. “I’m fine.” Your eyebrow raised, curious as to what game this clone was playing. You had to admit he was ballsy and hot…in an irritating kind of way. “Hmm...Surprised.” Fives mumbled taking another sip of his Trandoshan ale, “Cos you’ve been running through my mind all day.” The friend next to you ended up spitting her drink on the floor and your face beat red and not because of the alcohol.

*Once he laid out that card, that was it. He locked you in and you had no choice but to give him some of your time.

*Just the way he admires the words tumbling out of your lips, all attention on you, is surprising. Here you thought you had a man just wanting to slip into your pants and yet, he’s listening to your life story, asking questions about you. Your likes, dislikes, everything.

*He’s not one to admit he’s wrong, but he apologizes for his first interaction with you. Even admits that he was so awestruck with your beauty that his brain just stopped functioning.

*After several outings, his demeanor never changes. He’s so into you and remembers every detail about you. Any shift in your tone and he’s pressing you to talk about whatever is on your mind. Wanting to be the one to help you through it all.

*“Ya know Rex. I think I’m in love?” The captain couldn’t help but let out a snicker before realizing Fives is serious. “You? In love? Since when was that possible?” Fives just rolled his eyes and gave Rex a somewhat gentle push, before sneaking a peek at the holopic he has of you. Love was better than he expected, especially when it involved you.

#headcanon #star wars #star wars clone wars #clone wars #clone wars fanfic #commander wolffe #clone trooper echo #arc trooper echo #arc trooper fives #clone trooper fives #fives #echo #wolffe

[lilikags]

Melody of Fate

Back to Me part 3!

--Your POV--

For once,  you were looking forward to a party. Well, it wouldn't be accurate to say you were looking forward to the party. It was more like "I guess I don't mind going; after all, I might meet this 'soulmate' of mine, if he even exists, but if not, then, oh well." You were already awake, reading a novel one of the suitors had sent you. At first, you were going to throw it out, but when you read the first few pages out of curiosity, you couldn't stop reading. It was a romance novel, obviously, since it was known you loved romance novels, and it was about a girl who made a contract with a demon. Their contract included "no romance with any humans", but she fell in love with someone.

It was about time to get ready for the party, and you could see the sun starting dim its glow as it prepared for sunset. Your maids entered the room with an elaborate dress, which was adorned with carefully crafted flowers and the finest fabric. You let them change you; after all, this was normal in noble society. Well, the dress is quite difficult to get into, so this time, you actually didn't mind as you thought of what could happen next in the novel.

After a while, you were all fixed up. You had your lavish dress and makeup on, and your hair had been fixed into a beautiful (hairstyle). You were just about ready to leave when you almost forgot you wanted to wear a certain pair of earrings. You asked Elisa to bring it out for you, which she did right away. No one else had earrings like these; they definitely weren't in fashion, but you still wanted to wear it anyways. Hanging earrings were in fashion these days, especially since they're easy to notice, but you went for a more modest look with the accessories. It wasn't something a noblewoman would usually do, but you were different. The earrings you chose were small (favorite color) studs, nothing fancy and definitely not easy to notice compared to everyone else's earrings. You saw it in your dreams, all the time, actually. The girl who always appeared in them wore them every day, and it seemed precious to her. After seeing it so many times, you began to wonder if you would feel the same way she did if you got those earrings. There was no logic or reason to it really, but you had them made anyways and decided to wear this to one of the most important parties of the decade, at least to everyone else.

Once you were done putting on your earrings, it was time to get going to the party. You made your way to the front door of your home, and a carriage was waiting for you. You hopped in and looked out the window as the carriage started moving. On the way there, you thought about many topics, from the plants growing on the side of the road to the party itself. It was a party arranged by the Queen herself, so she could meet all the (marriage) candidates she had selected for her son. It was a given that it would be the most lavish party you would ever go to; any party that included the Queen was as elaborate as you could get.

As you arrived at the party, you stepped down from the carriage and heard the click-clack of your heeled shoes for the first time in for what seemed like forever. It was just outside a lavish garden, and tables were carefully laid out in strategic positions where it would not just look good but also be in a location of perfect convenience: no one should bump into it, it shouldn't fall, it wouldn't get in anyone's way. Of course, that much was expected to be planned out- this was a party arranged by the Queen herself. She always made her parties absolutely perfect, and she was definitely known for it.

The sound of your heels on the tiled pathway signaled your arrival as the guards announced, "Lady (y/n) of the Dukedom (l/n) has arrived," playing a part of the national anthem in your honor. Each of the Queen's Candidates was given one of those upon arrival, as soon as they stepped onto the stone tiles painted with delicate swirls. You gave a slight smile to the crowd and joined in the party, gravitated to the smell of the food on the tables.

They had pearl-white tablecloth on them, long enough to cover the legs of the table, but also not long enough to cause anyone to tip over it- the right height. You were offered a drink, (favorite drink) by one of the Queen's servants, and you took it to show some gratitude. You were kind of accepting everything, only thinking about the food you were smelling. After all, food can be your best friend, right? Always there to support you, and you literally need it to survive. You giggled at that thought, and you went to find something good to eat.

Well, everything there was bound to be good. Of course, everything had to be the best at this party. You got yourself a small plate to put a couple of crackers decorated with a variety of ingredients. Those were the light snacks of the party, and they were quite popular among the dukes and duchesses. The plates were impressive as well; they were decorated with fine details of flowers and gold patterns using the finest brush. Each of them, however many there were, was carefully crafted and painted by the kingdom's best artists. They would definitely catch an extremely high price, one would normally just keep in a curio cabinet, but the royal family of the entire kingdom had the ability to use them at a party.

You were about to take some food for yourself, eyeing one with (favorite dip sauce) on it, which was formed into a beautiful swirl, when someone approached you, "Greetings, Lady (l/n)." You looked behind you to see another Queen's Candidate, Langelica of the dukedom Barswald. She was the most favored of all of them among the masses, and you could see why. She often went out to commoners festivals and held lavish charity parties to raise money for the poor, often interacting with both commoners and those of a higher social standing. She formed many connections that way, and her name was well known across the country. That wasn't all though; she was considered a prodigy in studies as well. She had breezed through the curriculum as a young child, allowing her to study subjects much more in-depth than anyone else. That convinced everyone that she was a prime candidate with excellent talents and support from the majority of people.

Honestly, you had no idea why you were even selected as a candidate when Langelica existed. You thought she should be the Queen and that would be the end of it. Done. No need to spend an exorbitant amount of money on various parties and no need to make people put in the time and effort into trying to become Queen when there was basically no competition at this rate. Maybe you were included solely because of your family. All of the daughters of dukedoms had been invited unless they declined beforehand, which no one would dare to do.

You greeted Langelica back with a, "Greetings, Lady Barswald. I see you're enjoying the party." "Yes, I am. It's quite magnificent, I have to say. I see you've been enjoying the party as well." "Yes, parties made by her majesty are always so enjoyable." "Oh, have you tried the (favorite dip sauce) cracker yet? I heard you like (favorite dip sauce)." For a reason you couldn't see, Langelica continued the conversation for quite a while. You had no idea what her intentions were, but you were honestly getting fed up with her. She was just having a conversation with you, but you would rather be somewhere else. You didn't belong with a person like her, so why should you be talking to her?

Really, you just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible- but abruptly leaving would be considered quite rude, and you really had no way of ending the conversation in a nice way. Social interaction was a high risk activity, in your mind. A simple sentence could ruin the entire existence of a dukedom or even get yourself killed. Words carried the weight of your entire being in high society, and you really didn't want to put in the effort. But here you were, in the highest-class party just about anyone there had been to. You couldn't say anything even if you wanted; she was talking much more than you were, and at this point, it would be quite rude to interrupt. Once she became Queen, who knows what she might do to you. Honestly, you didn't know if she was the type of person who would remember a conversation with you on a night like this, but you could see it. You didn't know if you were just being paranoid, but you were scared to end the conversation.

Luckily, it seemed Langelica had read your mind and excused herself to talk to the Queen. You sighed in relief as she walked away in the direction of Her Majesty, and you were finally able to get some food. Your plate was still empty, and the (favorite dip) crackers were almost gone. You reached for the last few to put on your plate when you hit somebody's arm, making you gasp in surprise, "Oh, I'm so sorry about that. I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings. Are you alright?" "Yes, I'm fine. It's alright; no harm was done," the lady smiled as she walked away. You were literally so scared. The look she had in her eyes when she left meant something like, "I'll talk to you again." and you were really scared of what she wanted to talk to you about. You had absolutely no idea what her intentions are or what she was planning. Heck, she could be trying to undermine your family. There really wasn't a reason to, but who knows. This could all be a front. It probably was though; who could really be that perfect?

Anyways, you just wanted to be away from people. No social interaction, no worries about doing or saying something wrong, just being you- and that was your absolute comfort zone. You couldn't even do that with your own parents. It was by yourself, doing whatever the heck you wanted, without any worries or opinions. In this society, there were always opinions on whatever you did, no matter how inconsequential.

Almost visibly sighing, you made your way over to the garden part, away from all the people. Everyone could be seen in little groups and circles, talking and making it seem like they were the most intelligent person in the world. You knew from experience that it was tiring, and you wondered how they could put up with it so long. Thinking about it made you annoyed, so you tossed it and started thinking about happy things.

The garden was a tulip garden, a flower you thought was quite pretty. They were arranged in a huge tulip, with small benches scattered so people could sit. You wandered through the large tulip, looking at the roses and commenting on them. You talked to yourself, which was honestly better than talking to other people. You could voice your opinion, and no one could criticize you. (because they wouldn't have heard it)

You were there for who knows how long, losing yourself in your thoughts in the garden. Your feet started to ache after walking so much; you were in heels and walking with heels hurt. Honestly, you almost forgot you were at the party. You were so far from everyone else that you couldn't hear them anymore, and you had completely forgotten about it.

Sometimes, you liked to sing. You weren't the best at singing, of course, but you didn't consider yourself terrible either. Singing wasn't popular in society. The singing they knew was opera singing, which was way too difficult and in your opinion, not worth it. For the amount of effort put into the song and the enjoyment of listening to it wasn't at all even slightly balanced. You had no intention of singing opera or even trying to. What you liked to sing was songs you heard in your dreams: songs on the radio, ones the girl listened to, the songs played in malls and public places. To you, those were much more enjoyable. They had a much catchier beat and better lyrics, in your opinion.

The girl in your dreams most often listened to (favorite song), and by this time, you had essentially memorized it. Not just the lyrics, but the beat, the notes, everything. You often sang it when you were able to be alone, which was rare. The girl in your dreams, who you knew like your own self, often sang it as well. She often had her boyfriend listen to her. He looked like he didn't care, playing games as she sang, but you could tell that he loved hearing her sing. You wished to have someone like that, someone who appreciated that kind of music too. Though, you knew that was quite impossible, since there was no music at this time even remotely similar to those songs. Maybe you could make it possible, maybe.

Singing was one of those things you did when you were happy, one when you felt you could be yourself. And right now, that's what you felt. You definitely were still at the party, but you were so far away from everyone else that you had completely forgotten about it. Your singing filled the air only you could hear, your brain imagining the beat as you sang. You focused only on singing, and you couldn't hear the footsteps coming closer.

Before you knew it, one of the most prominent figures of the entire kingdom was standing almost right in front of you, and you didn't even notice. He listened to the familiar tune, feeling a sense of nostalgia. He knew that song very well, so well, yet he hadn't heard it before. Then, it clicked. "(y/n)...?" the girl's name was called and you looked at the prince.

A/N: Hey, Lili here! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'm sorry it took like a month to upload; school's been busy. Check out the other chapters and my other works here!! Word Count: 2423

#back to me #kenma #kenma kozume #kozume kenma #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyū!! #haikyuu x reader #kenma x y/n #kenma x you #hq kenma #part 3 #lili kags #royal au #haikyuu royal au

[ricinbach]

mercy. | chapter 12 - coffee

remnants from your past could change your future.

"You know there is no turning back from this."

Those gray blues you had grown to care for over the years of surviving together rose their stare from the splayed out, tattered map, to focus their gaze on you.

“I know.”

The beads of metal in your palms grew colder and colder by the second, the chain slipping gently around your fingers, as if feeding on all the icy tension in the air of the old office. Your gaze kept shifting from the man that stood behind the large wooden desk towards the map he was pointing at, a big red cross marked over the Denver quarantine zone, notorious for ruthless guards and government rules, whatever was left of them, at least.

It was supposed to be a routine task for him. Being a self-made mercenary, a good one at that, had put him in the frontlines - he had planned these sort of operations way too many times before, knew the best ways to cause commotion and attract attention, even if it meant destroying whatever was left of the military and their equipment, if he was lucky. Went in and out of quarantine zones, undetected and uncompromised, brought all his men back to base safely. From what you had observed over the couple of years that you had gotten to know the Texan, if there was one thing you could say about him - he always seemed to know just what he was doing.

The slight treble in his voice only hinted that then, he did not.

What he was asking out of you, if you had been completely honest with yourself, scared you. The mere prospect of leading a team into their potential demise, only to detonate a couple of bombs to mess up the military tanks and maybe take out a couple of uniforms along the way - gave you this tangible unease so palpable that you could feel the knots in your stomach.

Marlene may have turned him into a valuable asset in combat, strategic enough to cause stirring in the remaining military forces and make the Fireflies even more notorious than you all were perceived to be - yet, you were no pertubrator. Over the first decade of the damned apocalypse, you had done enough killing to get to the spot you had with the organization, to finally get a chance to do what you were born to do - try to help and cure people. Tend to their wounds. Be there when they are bleeding and hold their hands as they struggle through the pain. Only taking lives when you were forced to do so, when you were left with no other choice.

While you were more than ready to try your best to help him out as he made his departure from the Fireflies, you could not help but let unease engulf your body - your jaw clenching and your stare growing solemn. Mind wandering to all of the ways it could all go wrong.

Deep in thought, you knew from the back of your mind that there was no other way around this ordeal. If you both wanted out, there was only one way to go about it in this damned world.

And that always came with a certain price to pay, you would think as you nodded softly.

“I’m in.”

The uneasy thudding of soles over linoleum tiles turned into the crunching sound of colorful fall leaves, horseshoes cackling against the stone as you advanced through the gated campus.

University of Eastern Colorado - never did you think you would end up in here again. After years of holding on, treating friend and foe, cutting through flesh and organs, performing experiments just to find the sliver of a hope for a cure - like nothing else mattered. The interior hallways on the other side of the brick walls were filled with years worth of selfless moments of exertion and memories - some haunted while some comforted you. The feel of belonging to something greater which soothed you, up until the moment you had to fire another bullet into the skull of an infiltrator.

But then, as you made your way to your science building with the horse right beside you, the alien eerie atmosphere sent chills down your spine.

Something was wrong.

Maybe it was the silence of the falling leaves and autumn, wind blowing against the worn-out brick. Maybe your memory of years ago had faded, letting you believe that the place was more lively than it actually had been. Maybe your mind had been playing tricks on you.

Maybe it was the fear of leading the ones walking beside you into a road of unknowns.

“How do you know Tommy?”

The gruff yet genuinely curious voice originating from the man walking right beside you was enough to make you turn your head a bit, looking up at him due to his superior height over you. You should have seen the question was coming sooner rather than later, yet to your surprise, his demeanor was not a hostile one as the words slipped from his mouth. With Ellie collecting leaves in the courtyard a couple steps ahead of you both, you reckoned he waited for just the right moment to ask you, unsure if Ellie should be hearing this conversation. With a little reminiscent nod as you took your eyes away from him and stared into a far corner of your vision, you would readjust your jacket over your shoulders, walking in the chilly fall air. “We go way back. Used to work together in this very base.”

To measure his reaction, you would then shoot another brief glance at the man - those green amber eyes of his thoughtful and curious as he nodded slowly, himself staring onto the excited figure of Ellie with such an unknown yet lovely spark in those orbs. You found yourself doubting if what Tommy said was true - you trusted his word with your life then and now, but the soft emotions in Joel’s eyes every time he would look at her were certainly hard to miss. Beneath the survivor, in those little glimpses of light in his eyes that he managed to hide most of the time, all you saw was a man who was willing to go to the ends of the earth to protect someone - someone he cared about.

All those months of trailing beside the pair, though some of it against your liking, it was a long-forgotten feeling of ease that started to develop whenever you were around them - it was all in moments like these, when a certain softness of humanity would emerge. It made you want to trust the man and the little girl, just like the way you trusted his brother. The survivor in you still knew you could not give too much information away about you even if you wanted to, some things were only meant to be buried deep within your chest for no one else to know - yet that feeling of warm ease was pushing you to open up, even just a bit.

“He is a good man. I used to trust him with my life - still do,” you would trail off in a soft voice, one hand gently petting the horse as the other held onto the reins. To that, Joel’s hardened face was adorned with a slightly arched eyebrow, hearing you speak with a certain gentleness in your voice. The woman beside him had been a big dilemma since day one, yet with every new journey you trailed along for, he seemed to be uncovering bits and pieces of information about you - the mere fact that his baby brother evidently trusted you so much even after all those years put some ease into his usually rampant and doubting mind.

The worst part was, with every little thing he discovered about you, something inside him yearned to just find out more.

“Why did you leave?” came yet another question, in a lower voice this time, considerate of Ellie’s close proximity as you neared the gate of entrance to the science building - which gave you weird palpitations just by looking at the familiar giant mirror of a construction.

“It was all getting outta control. I, uh - ” you would pause and take in a breath, your gaze focusing into his eyes again. “ - helped him get the hell out of here. Think you know the rest of it,” you finished with a ghost of a sad smile across your lips, a far away look in your eyes.

Had it been any other survivor or stranger, he would have trouble believing what you were saying was actually the reflection of truth. Yet, from what he had seen with you - even though you hid things just like any sensible person who had managed to survive that long, he knew you did not lie and your word was genuine. At least towards them. He had seen you murder two of your own just to get you lot across the state border. Seen you shoot down stragglers that infiltrated Tommy’s without an ounce of doubt in you - when they needed help, you had been there.

And deep down, he was grateful. It was that hardened man engulfing the soft fire in him that made him not show it too much, too often - and the best he could give you then was an understanding nod thrown your way.

“C’mon Ellie, it’s right this way,” you would direct the pair into the science building - the beautiful fall weather and the breeze fading away just like a switch was flipped as you left the horses outside and walked into the now darkened compound.

From the very first step you had taken onto campus, you knew in the depths of your very being that something had gone wrong here, not too long ago, and the icy cold atmosphere inside accompanied with the remnants of broken glass and empty halls further added to your anxiety. Jaw clenched and heartbeat quickening with each move, you would shoot a worried look at Joel, who had an equally confused look in his eyes.

They had been gone.

“What the hell happened here?” the little girl spoke up, her young voice echoing off of the concrete walls as you all climbed up the stairs leading into one of the main labs. You had been pondering the question yourself - Marlene had put so much faith and hope into making this place the way it was. Now the cabinets were ransacked, operating tables turned upside down, marks of the infected blood and guts coating some walls. The place that you had escaped from, helped Tommy escape from, had been unrecognizable - it was cold, daunting and rummaged to every single corner and crevice. Joel’s hand was stroking through his salt and peppered beard as he slowly took the lead of the small group while you trailed a bit behind.

The curiosity within got the best of you as you entered a certain room with a wooden door, hand on your holster just in case, as the familiar creek even after all those years filled your ears. The moldy and stale air hit you, far from sterile, yet the room looked clean from the infected you had to encounter previously as you first entered the campus through the dorms.

There it was. That damned mahogany desk you previously sat with Tommy, scratched and damaged yet still there. The map that used to be sprawled out on it still visible in your vivid memories - before the inevitable happened, before the fire and before the escape. A sharp pain reminiscent of the past ran down your body as you took steps towards it, a finger trailing along the edge of the wood. According to the dust on your finger, it had been quite a damn long time.

Biting down your lip in curiosity, you would tug onto the drawer on the side of it, which opened up in a thudding and creaking sound of rusty metal only to reveal the one personal item you had stashed down in the office you used to frequent - a very old bag of ground coffee.

It had no doubt gone stale and possibly tasted absolutely horrible, yet you could not help but smile sadly as you held onto the pack - which had been untouched, to your surprise. Finding the one item that managed to light a spark of joy inside in the midst of all the chaos and uncertainty, you would push the drawer close and head out of the room to find the pair, bag in hand as you would toss a parting look at the one office where you slept, woke up, and planned so many operations back in the old days.

These were different times now - it would only prove to be more difficult as you stepped into the main laboratoy you used to help run experiments in, only to find the pair situated around the counters, with Joel advancing towards the table near the windows.

Ellie, who sat on a little stool, upon spotting the little bag in your hand would shoot you a slightly meaningful look and then turn her gaze to Joel knowingly - the meaning of which you could not comprehend so you would just shrug it off as you shot a small smile at the little girl in return, your fingers working to place the newfound treasure into your backpack.

That was before you had a chance to look over the room you had been so habituated to - broken vials of glass coated the floors as chairs were all over the place, flyers and old books torn apart on the ground. The sad atmosphere was only made worse as you spotted a damn corpse near the windows - wearing your old uniforms, the metal pendant entangled in whatever was left of his fingers, with Joel approaching it as he muttered audible curses beneath his beard. You let out an inevitable one of your own as your ally grabbed onto a voice recorder, the ones Marlene made all of you carry around as a safety measure in case something happened to a member, and pressed play - a deep, crackling voice resonated through the emptiness.

“If you’re looking for the Fireflies, they’ve all left.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Ellie spat, browsing through an old journal as you took steps closer to Joel in an attempt to hear the recording better and see if you recognized the voice. Kneeling slightly to check the name on the pendant, you would realize that he had been one of the less-experienced doctors you had seen walk around the compound - straight out of medical school when this entire outbreak started.

“Fuck,” you would mutter under your breath as you got up and rested your hands on your hips, watching Joel’s expression sour away with each word echoing out of the old recording, realization that this entire journey on horseback had been futile all along. Your old kin had left, leaving nothing behind, maybe dispersed into the woods or something for all you cared. The reason you had agreed to Tommy’s plan in the first place had been resurfacing again, reflected off of the words of your old ally in corpse form - it all led to nothing. There was no immunity for this hell-sent fungal infection. No matter how many you cut through and extraced tumors out of, it only led to more destruction, blood and carnage. A part of you was relieved that the Fireflies had closed down the one facility that was adequate enough to make some sort of medical progress, if there ever was any, and another part of you kept on wondering - was it that easy? Would Marlene let everything go in a moment of realization that this was not working anymore? Would she let go of the men and women and children she helped survive all along?

“… if you’re looking for others, they have all returned to St. Mary’s Hospital in Salt Lake City.”

As those words cackled from the static of the voice, your head shot up - and the three of you stood there, bodies rigid with anxiety of the unknown, simply exchanging worried and confused glances with each other but you could swear to the heavens above that you saw the little glimmer of hope in Ellie’s eyes - compared to Joel’s hardened, stoic ones.

Why Marlene had moved whatever was left of the team to a hospital in the middle of an abandoned quarantine zone all the way in Utah did not make any sort of sense to you. It felt like avoidance, like denying the inevitable, fighting a battle the Fireflies knew they would lose. It baffled you that you have not thought of their relocation before - recalling people around the base mention the hospital’s name here and there. Maybe you would have found them, returned back and just maybe you would have a clearer idea as to why the fuck they had been looking for you in the first place.

Then again, you still could.

“Is it far?” came the unavoidable question, causing the man to shake his head in thought before speaking in a voice hoarser than ever. “It ain’t close. I mean, on horseback…” he would trail off just as your peripheral vision would catch a quick flash of sharp lights that did not belong in an abandoned science building.

“Get down!” you hurriedly reached towards the girl and pulled her down in a groan, your heart racing as bullets started raining over you in their sickening, richocheting sounds.

Just who the fuck where these bandits, you could not help but think as your body was pressed close to Joel’s, breaths mixing in between the three of you as you huddled close to the table for cover. Revolver in hand, you would take on the mission of shielding Ellie just like you had been all this time along - a quick, hurried nod and look at Joel confirmed this as he slowly made his way out of the dead end of the room, to take on the battle head first.

It took a good amount of fighting and yelling Ellie to take cover as you smashed the butt of the gun against one’s skull and send a bullet flying inside the other, until the hallway you were stationed in had been cleared out. Chest heaving and your fingers working nimbly to reload the gun, your trained eyes kept on scanning for any enemy activity, all the while extending a hand out to guard Ellie as you advanced towards the grand indoor hall, only to be greeted with agonizing screams and groans that could only belong to one person you knew.

Heart instantly dropping, you and Ellie would run to the source of the sounds, only to find one of the most gruesome sights you had ever seen in your entire life - Joel, bloodied and bruised, impaled onto a metal rod. In that moment alone, you seemed to have forgot all those years of medical training, aiding in surgeries and saving patients - it was a sight of pure agony. Pure hopelessness. As you ran towards him in a sprint, you could tell Ellie was going through the exact same emotions, seeing his face distort in pain like that.

“Ellie,” you tried to say as calmly yet as firmly as you could, not wanting the girl to worry more than she had to, trying to push the negative thoughts away though they seemed to be staring you right in the face. “I need you to cover us, okay?”

Teary-eyed, she nodded before tossing a look at Joel, who was mumbling and groaning. You could see the utter panic in his eyes mixed in with the pain, no doubt worrying about the girl even during his lowest of moments. “I’m gonna need you to pull,” came the low, low groan from the man, his hand extended out as it trembled. Immediately you nodded, grabbing onto his hand with your both, using whatever strength you have left.

“I got you, c’mon,” you encouraged yet your face spoke of the horrors as you groaned, pulling him up with all the strength your body could muster to be done with it in one go, that way he could ease the pain. A painful howl filled the vast space as you gritted your teeth, muttering curses, watching the metal leave his abdomen in a sickening noise. You could only hope the rod did not touch major arteries, yet that was a question for later - if you managed to get the hell out of there alive.

“Hold onto me,” you almost ordered, the weakened man ready to collapse onto the ground, his blood leaking everywhere and coating your garments. “Put your arm around me, c’mon Joel,” came the dominant voice you sported during operations and with another growl of pain, his arm was around your shoulders and you did your best to carry his weight - with Ellie clearing the path for you, her green eyes with such a fear in them tossing glances at you that spoke volumes as you neared the exit amongst gunshots and smoke.

His breath in your ear and almost limp body slumped over your much smaller frame, you felt your mind go numb and your body exerted itself to the limits. At that moment, the one conscious thought you had was you praying from the depths of your heart and soul that this man right here would live to see another day.

And that maybe, you would be right there with him.

#oh lord #my heart breaks every time #joel miller #tlou #the last of us #the last of us joel #joel x reader #joel x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #mercy

[notebooknebula]

Matt McKeever, BRRRR Investing

https://www.jayconner.com/matt-mckeever-brrrr-investing/ Matt McKeever is a CPA & Real Estate Investor. He implements the BRRRR investing strategy in London Ontario. https://www.youtube.com/c/MattMcKeever/ You'll learn how to analyze multifamily properties and how to maximize your return on investment through strategic renovations that will allow you to increase rents, your equity and your cashflow!

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Jay Conner (00:10): Well, hello there and welcome to another episode of real estate investing with Jay Conner. I'm Jay Conner, your host, and also known as the Private Money Authority. If you're brand new here to listening on iTunes or Google play, or you may be watching and listening to the live stream right now on one of our YouTube channels or Facebook and you're new to Real Estate Investing with Jay Conner show. We talk about all things, real estate, how to find deals, how to get them funded, how to sell them fast, how to automate your business. So you're actually running your business and it's not running you. And since we launched the show back in June of 2018, I've had some very, very amazing guests here on the show with me, and today's no different, but before I bring my guest on, I want to let you know about what one big thing that we do here on the show. And that's talking about funding for your deals.

Jay Conner (01:04): Well, the short version of my story is, my wife, Carol Joy and I started investing in single family houses here in Eastern North Carolina, back in 2003. And the first six years that we were doing business, I relied on the local banks and mortgage companies. But in January of 2009, I was cut off from a funding, but no notice like the rest of the world. And so I was introduced to this wonderful world of private money. How to get funding for your deals that has nothing to do with your credit. Nothing to do with your verification of income. Nothing to do with your experience and how you can actually set your own rules to get funding for your real estate deals. So I've been using private money for funding ever since 2009. We've got 49 private lenders right now, funding our deals.

Jay Conner (01:55): And if you would like to learn as well about how you can get funding for your deals, the same way I do without relying on banks, then I've got a free online class for you to check out after the show. You go over after the show to www.JayConner.com/MoneyPodcast. That's JayConner.com/MoneyPodcast. There, I will teach you and reveal the five easy steps as to how you can quickly have zero funding for your deals, and very quickly having the hundreds of thousands and millions of dollars in funding.

Jay Conner (02:37): So with that, I'm just so excited to introduce to you my guest today. My guest is a CPA and a real estate investor. You don't find too many of those combinations inside the same head. So anyway, he implements this thing called the BRRRR investing strategy. And we're going to dive on that and find out what in the world that strategy is. So he primarily focuses on small apartments and commercial deals. Now he has got a very, very popular YouTube channel. That right now has over 60,000 subscribers. And we're going to tell you here in a moment, how to get over that YouTube channel and you can check him out, but on his YouTube channel, he teaches you how to analyze multifamily properties and how to maximize your return on investment through strategic innovations and renovations. That will show, that will allow you to increase your rents, increase your equity and how to increase very quickly your cash flow and these properties. And own this same YouTube channel, you'll find videos where he's teaching this ranging from renovating properties, duplexes, triplexes of all sizes, as well as dealing with student rentals his best practices for buying properties, how to manage your tenants and your portfolio of properties.

Jay Conner (04:02): So he's also going to show you on his YouTube channel, how he structures joint venture deals. How he gets funding for his deals. How he negotiates with banks, refinances properties, and of course, much more. So be sure to subscribe to his channel when we tell you about it here in a moment, and you'll be able to follow him in his pursuit of financial independence and how you can get it also as well. With that, I'm so excited to bring onto the show right now, Mr. Matt McKeever. Hello, Matt! And welcome to the show, my friend.

Matt McKeever (04:35): Thanks, Jay. Appreciate the warm introduction.

Jay Conner (04:38): Absolutely! Glad to hear you. So, you're up in Canada. Well, whereabouts in Canada?

Matt McKeever (04:43): So located London, Ontario, about two hours from Toronto, which is our big city here in Canada.

Jay Conner (04:49): I got you. Now is all of your investing these days taking place in Canada?

Matt McKeever (04:54): Yep. So right now my portfolio is exclusively in Southwestern Ontario. So within right now, actually it's pretty much all clustered in London, Ontario, which is a market with a 500,000 Metro population area. Just to kind of give you guys a rough idea. Median house price is around 350 to 400.

Jay Conner (05:14): So with everything that we're going to be talking about here on the show today, and also on your YouTube channel, do all or most of the strategies apply to doing this type of business the way you do it in the United States?

Matt McKeever (05:29): Yeah, absolutely. So if anything, the United States has maybe more friendly investor regulations in most States. So everything we do here in Canada can absolutely be replicated in the States. And in fact, sometimes it's easier because you guys have nifty little tricks, like the 10 31 exchange, which is completely nonexistent here in Canada.

Jay Conner (05:50): I got you! And that comes into play more often in the world of commercial than it does in single family homes. Right?

Matt McKeever (05:58): Absolutely! So here in Canada, unfortunately we don't have that 10 31 exchange. We can find a handful of other innovative ways to try and, you know, help us speed up the velocity of our money. But really for myself, when I first joined like a lot of investors, my biggest thing was either limited amounts of resources, right? The limited amount of my own money. And like a lot of people I had discovered private money like yourself. So we're constantly focused on how can I stretch the little bit of money I have to control the most amount of real estate as possible. And that's what really led me into that BRRRR investment strategy, where you buy a property, renovate it, you know, fix it up, bring it up to its highest, best most efficient use, then rerent it out at a higher amount, then go back to your lender and refinance and pull out the money. And I started originally doing that on small single family homes and small multi-families. And now I've just graduated to doing the exact same business model, but just with small apartment buildings, rather than like a triplex or a fourplex,

Jay Conner (06:56): I got you. Well, just in case some people aren't able to stay to the end of the show. Let's go ahead and let everybody know right now how they can find your YouTube channel. That's got all the trainings on it and et cetera, where can they go for that?

Matt McKeever (07:09): Yeah. So if you hit me up on YouTube, it's just Matt McKeever. That's M C K E E V E R. And anywhere social media, you'll find me on those platforms. So if you're not on YouTube, I'm everywhere else as well.

Jay Conner (07:24): Well, what I want us to talk about. Well, thank you for sharing that, Matt. What I want us to talk about today here on the show are really three topics. First I want to hear about your personal journey in real estate. Secondly, I want to, I want you to talk about the power of social media and how you use social media to leverage success in your business. And then thirdly, you got an interesting concept that you talk about. You don't talk that much about ROI, Return On Investment or Return On Cash. You talk about this thing talking to call return on time. So those are the three topics let's start with your personal journey, Matt, and your story.

Matt McKeever (08:03): Absolutely. So like a lot of real estate investors you know, my gateway into real estate investing the gateway drug, as I like to say it, Rich Dad, Poor Dad. That's what really started my entire journey. And in my fourth year at university, you know, I was going through for business. I was going to get my CPA license and really the reason I wanted to get into business or become an entrepreneur was to, you know, get rich. Like a lot of people. But I didn't really know what get rich meant and had no idea how to actually achieve it. And so I was speaking with one of my roommates at the time we lived in a six bedroom student rental house and I was like, Jake, your dad's rich. He owns like a big company with hundreds of employees. I was like, go ask him how we get rich.

Matt McKeever (08:49): Cause we both know we want to get rich, but we have no idea. And he actually gave us the book, Rich Dad Poor Dad. And ever since reading that book in the back of it and a list of other books to go read, I went and read every book from that as well. And just really got addicted to this idea of real estate investing and being able to build up a, you know, passive cash flowing investment portfolio. I didn't end up jumping into real estate until age 25. So from kind of 2021 discovering real estate to 25 and actually executing that I was just consuming information, trying to save up money. But also I was trying to get outside my comfort zone because all my friends and family thought I was crazy for wanting to get into real estate investing when I was already on, you know, the corporate path to that white collar job with the corner office.

Matt McKeever (09:37): At the age of 25 is when I bought my first rental property. And on my 25th birthday, I ended up making a commitment to myself. So I downloaded an app on my phone that would count down the days to my 35th birthday. And I decided to make a commitment that I would retire by the age of 35 because of real estate investing. And so I was the guy at different parties or networking events, people would say, Hey, Matt, what's new with you? What's up? I'd pull out the phone and be like, Oh 2,465 days until my 35th birthday. When I get to retire. Long story short, kept buying real estate, kept in asking them that. And instead of having to wait 10 years, I actually retired from being a CPA, a chartered accountant at the age of 31 and just went all in to real estate investing at that point.

Matt McKeever (10:22): And then from that I found like a lot of people, once I left the corporate 9-5 behind, my success in real estate actually really started hockey sticking because I had all this extra time and energy now to deploy into my real estate investing business. And in that first year of quitting my day job, I think I acquired 32 additional units that year. And then continued just to, you know, focus on different unique investment opportunities, started teaching other people about real estate investing as well. Because when I quit my day job at 31, I found it's kind of lonely. There's not a lot of other 31 year old retirees out there. And so I didn't really have a peer group to hang out with. So I decided to start writing these really long emails to my friends, you know, like 5,000 word emails, trying to explain to them how they could quit their day job in five years, if they would just invest in real estate like I did.

Matt McKeever (11:15): And I'm sure as you can imagine, your audience can imagine. No one responded to those 5,000 word emails because that's a small novella. Thankfully at the time I happened to be reading a book and the books that speak to your audience in the language they wish to be spoken to. And immediately clicked for me, the reason that I love real estate and the reason so many people are drawn to real estate investing is because it's such a tactical, you know, real investment, right? Like it's a physical thing. Unlike say paper stock or paper assets. So immediately started documenting on my YouTube channel, just how I was going about investing in real estate. So if you go back to like my very first video, you can see, I was still swinging a hammer. Like I was still sweating up in the attics, re-insulating, running duct work, stuff like that.

Matt McKeever (12:01): So really have been exposed to almost every aspect of the real estate investing journey. But at this point now what the day to day looks like is I've got a wholesaling business with five full time employees just wholesaling real estate. I've got a company that just BRRRRs apartment building. So in the last eight months or so we've acquired about 70 units in that entity and have just been BRRRRing those apartments and then also have my education and just networking, which is, you know, my YouTube channel, social media presence and a couple other little education companies. So definitely just, you know, constantly trying to level up and surround myself with like minded individuals when it comes to real estate.

Jay Conner (12:43): Now you just said, that particular entity you've been BRRRRing properties. First of all, how do you spell that? Secondly, what does it mean?

Matt McKeever (12:53): Absolutely. So B R R R R. And so it stands for Buy, Renovate, Rent, Refinance, and Repeat. And so really what that looks like is simply finding, to me the best way to explain it is you're just looking for under utilized assets and you're going to try and bring them up to their highest, best, most efficient use. So oftentimes what that looks like for me these days is we're buying an apartment building here in Ontario that maybe is being rented out for 50% of fair market value. And the landlords owned it for 10, 20 years. There's not a lot of equity and they're no longer motivated to operate it at a hundred percent efficiency or anywhere close to it. They're often approaching retirement age. So we go in there, buy the property. Then we implement strategic renovations, which again, unlike, you know, on HGTV, a lot of my YouTube fans would love to see me blowing out walls, you know, doing open concept this, that, and the other, but most of my renovations are really boring.

Matt McKeever (13:52): It's like, let's clean out all the junk. Let's paint the property. And maybe we'll put a new kitchen and bathroom tops. And so really we're just focused on what creates the highest return on investment from those dollars we're investing into the property. So in my market here in London, Ontario, specifically usually adding dishwasher to a kitchen that can increase not only the rent we can charge every month, but also in general increases the quality of tenant that we're going to be drawing from as well as say, adding laundry. If you can put in suit laundry, oftentimes in my market, I can charge between a $100 and $150 more per month in rent. And yet the cost of actually, you know, installing that laundry, depending upon the layout of the unit might be $2,500. So a very fast payback period in regards to when we can earn back that initial investment. But because we've increased the rent amounts.

Matt McKeever (14:44): Now the actual capitalization rates of the property, you know, is going to revalue the property at a higher amount as well, if we the same cap rate. So again, what I'm really focused on is just taking underutilized assets, bringing them them up to their highest, best, most efficient use. Then re-renting them out for top dollar. And once we've re-rented it out for top dollar, you know, our income statement looks a lot more attractive, which means the lender and the appraiser is going to reappraise the property and refinance the property a much higher value. And ideally with our business model, if you're doing it right, once you're done this BRRRR and with the larger apartment buildings, it's usually taken us about 18 months to do it from start to finish. What you're going to end up doing is being able to extract all the initial capital you invested in. So the idea here is, you know, if I can refinance at a 75% loan to value, I maybe buy the property for, let's say a million dollars, put 500,000 renovations, but then get it to reappraise at 2 million. Well at a 75% loan to value, I actually will get $1.5 million in new financing, right from the property, which means I can pay off the entire acquisition costs. So that's really the base model here is to implement what we call a perfect BRRRR.

Jay Conner (15:58): I love it! I never heard of the BRRRR strategy. I love it! Now, one thing you were just talking about was buying the properties. That's the first letter in the BRRRR strategy. So here in the US there's a popular website called LoopNet. What are, what are some of your favorite strategies these days for locating these under you know, these underperforming assets?

Matt McKeever (16:26): Yeah, so there's a lot of different strategies. One thing that is very different about the U S market and the Canadian market is, in the U S market, you guys have the freedom of information act. Here in Canada, we've got the protection information. It's so like, it's literally the exact opposite. So you guys are all about free information. We're all about keeping it all secluded and hidden and private. So honestly my best way is like personal networking. So I'm happy to share some tips here, but it's something that doesn't seem to resonate with a lot of people my age or my generation, which actually makes for a great opportunity for anyone that's willing to actually just build relationships, build rapport. And so, like, we actually target a certain type of realtor even to network with. Like the realtor I want to network with is he's like, realistically, they're above the age of 55.

Matt McKeever (17:21): They've been in business for at least 15 years. And what we're doing is we're approaching those realtors and being like, Hey, who have you sold the property to? Like a large apartment building to 10 years or longer ago? They're sitting on a ton of equity. I want to go make them an offer and make them a ton of money and make that offer through you and have you make commission off of it. So we're very focused on trying to structure win-win opportunities when possible, and make sure that everyone eats because we find when make sure that everyone else profits from a deal we'd done, they get addicted to that cycle and they want to get us more deals. But again, we're very boots on the ground and often focused on doing things that our competition won't do. So everyone loves the idea of hiring a VA out of the Philippines and hitting them, them hitting the phones for a thousand calls a day.

Matt McKeever (18:10): But what we'll do is I'll literally send one of my employees to stake out an apartment building, and they'll just park in front and literally talk to every person going in that building, being like, who's the owner? Can I get the owner's phone number? And we find that usually, you know, we ask enough, we will get that owner's phone number. And a lot of the apartment buildings I buy are literally through that process of, originally it was myself or a business partner just taking it out. Now we have employees taking out the apartment buildings, but we found that that's the best way to really get deals. Because if an owner has already thought about selling the property, contacted a realtor and listed on the market, they're now focused on just getting top dollar. And if they're solely focused on getting top dollar, that's fine for them, but it's usually not going to work for me and my business model. So we're often focused on not finding sellers, but actually creating sellers by making what we call blind offers. I don't even really know what their motivations are, but I know that they've owned it for so long that they're probably sitting on massive amounts of equity. And so I'm hoping that I can present them with a unique offer that they haven't even really considered. And, you know, then we can get that conversation rolling.

Jay Conner (19:17): So do you have your people stake out properties that looks just on the outside like it could use, you know some rehab and renovations and really be brought up to increase, you know, rents or whatever, or do you approach it differently? By again, looking for someone that probably has owned this property for a long time or which comes first? They've owned it for a long time or it looks like it could use some renovations or both?

Matt McKeever (19:47): Yeah, we're definitely open to either. In general, the way we're usually going to like again, because we don't have like easy databases of information. It can be very cumbersome to really figure out who's owned what property for how long on a grand scale. I can definitely look it up individually, but there's no way for me to like print off, you know, a giant data set. So in general, we're more focused on the building first and then doing our research afterwards. So literally what I'll do, and again, nothing fancy here, but I'll go to my local cities, zoning map, look at the zoning, look for a high density residential. And then I'll go on Google satellite and look just from the satellite view and find apartments, buildings, right? Identify the apartment buildings. Then literally go on Google street view. Sometimes on Google street view, you can see the property manager sign on the building.

Matt McKeever (20:40): So we'll immediately just call the property management firm then. If we can't find that, that's when I'm probably going to send someone to stake out the building. Get in contact with the tenants and find out who manages it and how. But at the same time, we've got a lot of other strategies. So here in Canada, Kijiji is really popular in the States. I think it's more often Craigslist is the, you know, the online classifieds the people are going to use. But I also love going on Kijiji, looking through the for rent ads. And you just look for the landlords that are beaten down and they're just sick of it, right? So like there's no good photos taken. And sometimes I don't know what it's like in the States, but in Canada you can read it like, the landlord will write all in caps, like no debt deeds. And that's like the title of their Ad. And like, this guy doesn't want to be a landlord anymore. This guy wants to sell to me, even if he doesn't know it yet.

Jay Conner (21:31): I love it! When you said a moment ago, something really, really important to your, the success of your business is networking and relationships. Well, that ties right into how you're able to leverage social media. So would you share with my audience here strategies and tips that you're doing these days to leverage social media and to really how you harness the power of it?

Matt McKeever (21:57): Yeah. And so the first thing I think that we need to really discuss is why even care about social media, right? And I find a lot of investors think that it's simply a distraction. And if you use it as a distraction, it absolutely is if you use it as a business tool, it absolutely is. So you're right. Either way, it really just comes down to how you use it. But for me, what's really powerful about social media is having that one to many conversation before the advent of social media and online networking and things of that nature. Realistically, the only one to many conversation we could have as real estate investors is going out to your local real estate investment group. Right. And you could maybe go, and if you were lucky, you could get up on stage and maybe talk for half an hour, give a little presentation or breakdown about what you're doing.

Matt McKeever (22:44): And that group maybe met once a month. So maybe once a year, you could get in their lineup, get up on stage and talk, or you had to become the host of the meet-up group in order to have that one to many conversation on a reoccurring basis. Whereas on my YouTube channel. And again, like my YouTube channel, isn't massive by YouTube standards, but it's important for what I'm focused on. And what I'm focused on is really talking to my core audience, which is Canadian real estate investors, and then just real estate investors in general. And so even with just like 60,000 subs on my YouTube channel, any given day, I'm averaging 4,000 to 5,000 views on my YouTube channel. The average view on my YouTube channel is about seven minutes long. So I view that as myself being able to have, you know, 4,000 to 5,000 conversations that are seven minutes long, every single day.

Matt McKeever (23:33): Well, that's more minutes than there already is available on the day. So right away that one to many conversations, extremely powerful. But even more so as real estate investors, it's not like we necessarily have to go, you don't need millions of followers or millions of views in order to have a very effective business model. You really just need, like for a lot of real estate investors, their business would be changed if they had five good private money partners, right? Or five private money lenders. And you can really build up a relationship with those people through social media. So a lot of people, they decide that they want to lend their money to me before I ever even make an ask. And that's simply because they're able to watch and see my projects. They get to see me interact on interviews or go live on Instagram or Facebook and just have conversations.

Matt McKeever (24:20): And they get to build a personal relationship with you. And something that we all need to remind ourselves as people like doing business with people they like. And so if you're not putting yourself out there on social media, if you're not trying to present, you know, your story, your image, your business model, you're not giving anyone even the chance to fall in love with you and your story and want to invest in you or your business. So for me, there's just so much power when it comes to social media, but I know I've just been kind of talking high level. So specifics. If any of your listeners here are brand new to social media, they're intimidated by the idea. They don't have a lot of time to invest into social media, pick one platform and spend at least 80% of your social media efforts on that one platform.

Matt McKeever (25:03): Now, if you're a small investor and you're looking just to get a couple money partners or finding say two or three money partners with six figures or more to invest would be a game changer. I personally would focus on LinkedIn and I would literally just write one or two blog posts a week about my business model. Understand that's never going to go viral. You'll probably be lucky to get more than a couple of dozen views, but that's all it takes. All you really want to do is really cultivate a strong relationship with a handful of money lenders. Now, for myself, there's value in the education and email list and all that stuff. But for a lot of beginner, real estate investors, you don't need that. You just need to build a handful of relationships and still social media is going to be a faster means to that end. Than going out to your local real estate investing group.

Jay Conner (25:49): That's awesome! And then to wrap up Matt, I want us to hang out a few minutes on your view and your take on return on time versus return on instead of ROI, et cetera. So what's your take on return on time and why is that so important?

Matt McKeever (26:08): Yeah, it's something that I think a lot of investors are looted by at the start. And so in general, I kind of view this evolution of real estate investors and their sophistication based upon the metrics they talk about. So CPA by nature. So kind of a numbers nerd and, you know, a ratio nerd to begin with. But in general, when brand new people come to real estate investing, I find they talk about ROI, you know, return on investment. And they're really impressed by the return on investment real estate can generate. Then once they get a little bit more sophisticated, they really start appreciating and understanding leverage. And we hear them talking about things like cash on cash returns, and really then it's about the velocity of their money. Then as people continue to graduate and evolve as investors, maybe they start looking at larger multifamily properties.

Matt McKeever (26:55): At which point in time, they usually start talking about cap rates or IRR. The internal rate of return. And again, all of these metrics are useful, but at the end of the day, what really draws us to real estate investing in my opinion, is the ability to have a high return on time. And that's what I'm really focused on these days as an investor and I'd encourage anyone else that's in real estate investing to start viewing things through that lens. And so one of the best examples I can give is wholesaling real estate. Here in Canada, it's still a relatively new concept. It's maybe only five years old that people have really been doing it to any serious capacity. And so it's got a little bit of a negative stigma still here in Canada. However, if you look at what you can accomplish with say, wholesaling versus flipping a property, usually the return on time, even if the total profit is lower on that wholesale deal, let's say you can wholesale a deal for $10,000, or you could flip the same property and make $50,000.

Matt McKeever (27:52): Well, the bigger question to me is how long does it take to wholesale assign that piece of paper versus actually flipping it. Well for the average person here in Canada, assigning it, you're probably going to assign it in one to two weeks. So your return on time, let's say it took you even a month. Well, your return on time is $10,000 per month. Whereas if we're going to flip the property, well again, we have to tie up the property. We have to wait for it to close. Then we close on it. Then we have to do our renovations, fix it up. Then we have to put it up for sale. Then we have to sell it. Then we have to wait for it to close. Well, oftentimes even if you're going to make $50,000, that entire process from start to finish, it might be five or six months.

Matt McKeever (28:31): Well, at that point in time, you're looking at very similar return on time, but your perception of risk is higher as well because with the wholesale deal, we make the money before ever even closing on the deal. While we're flipping there's a speculative piece to it because we don't really know what's going to sell for, until it sells. So for myself and a lot of people that I'm trying to help level up as real estate investors these days. I really want them to focus on the highest return on time investments. And this is also really important because a lot of us, when we first get started as investors, a lot of us swing the hammers ourselves. We clean up the units ourselves. We paint the units ourselves. But oftentimes those are the lowest value skills, right? Like you could probably find someone to pay $10, $15, $20 an hour to clean up or paint the unit. Whereas you, as the investor would likely be better served going and finding the next deal or going and talking with your next private money partner. And really building those relationships and send yourself up to do more deals rather than trying to squeeze every deal for every penny. We're better off to go find more deals. So this idea of return on time is just really being cognizant and not getting distracted by one piece of the puzzle, but really looking at the puzzle as a whole, When it comes to our investing and investment strategies.

Jay Conner (29:46): Excellent! Thank you, Matt. Well, folks, go ahead and check out and subscribe to Matt's YouTube channel at YouTube/MattMcKeever and that's M A T T M C K E E V E R. Matt. Thank you so much for coming on the show today. I really enjoyed having you.

Matt McKeever (30:07): Thanks, Jay. Really appreciate it.

Jay Conner (30:09): Alright! There you have it folks. Another show. I'm Jay Conner, The Private Money Authority. Wishing you all the best. And here's to taking your real estate investing business to the next level. We'll see you on the next show. Bye for now.

#Jay Conner #Private Money Lender #Real Estate Business #Real Estate #Real Estate Investing #Real Estate Investor #Real Estate Profit #The Private Money Authority

[justgottafinishthischapter]

Writing Romance: Pining

We’ve all had crushes. We catch feelings for that cute somebody. Some people watch helplessly from afar, but others walk right up to the one they’re crushing on and ask them out. Again. And Again. And Again. No matter how many times they get rejected. So, I want to break down this romantic trope and highlight why it works in some instances and not in others.

If you looked at Fry and Leela’s relationship in Futurama and Elfo and Bean’s relationship in Disenchantment, you would assume they’d hold the same weight. Both were created by the same person, and Fry and Elfo are both losers hopelessly pining after a strong confident girl who could kick their asses. So why then do I cringe every time Elfo makes a move on Bean, but Fry’s pursuit of Leela is charming? It’s all about the execution.

In Futurama, Fry and Leela are completely separate characters. Although Fry shows an attraction to Leela in episode 1, the first time there’s a genuine display of romance between them wasn’t until season 2 when the crew went aboard the Titanic. Fry has interests and hobbies that don’t involve Leela at all. There are episodes that focus on his relationship with Bender, dealing with his feelings about being so far from his own time, and getting into wacky hijinks on alien planets. For the first few seasons, Fry’s pining took a backseat to his everyday escapades. Leela is just as fleshed-out as Fry. She is a totally independent character with her own goals, backstory, issues, and character traits. Her desire to find her planet of origins and find her place in the universe, her love of animals, her short temper, and her responsible nagginess is in no way dependent on Fry’s character even needing to be in the show to work. But more importantly, Fry didn’t just endlessly pursuit Leela on a baseless feeling of entitlement to her. It was always clear that Leela felt at least a little something for Fry, as there were many quiet moments with her showing her warming up to Fry. Whether it was bonding over their nebula on the titanic, Burning a hole in the picture of Chazz and symbolically seeing Fry as an option for the first time, deciding to forget the coin toss and just go out with Fry of her own will, Realizing that he gave up his oxygen to keep her safe, becoming enamoured with the perfect Fry created by the super worms, and wanting to hear how Fry’s opera ends, even when he lost the ability to play the music as beautifully, there is a clear and steady build-up to Leela coming around to Fry. Fry likes Leela, and he does pursuit her, but dating Fry isn’t just Leela getting fed up with turning him down, there’s a genuine development of reciprocated feelings that genuinely feels earned.

The same is not true for Elfo. Elfo serves no real purpose in Disenchantment. If Bean was not in the show, he would have no real goals or purpose. He states in episode 1 that he wants to experience things other than constant happiness, but then he shows no interest in pursuing this goal upon meeting Bean. All of his character is either pining after Bean or being Bean’s nagging conscience. The show goes out of its way to beat us over the head that Bean has no interest in Elfo. From blatantly calling the spot at her feet “The Friend Zone” and telling Elfo to sleep there, to eating what the audience is supposed to think is Elfo’s leg and saying she likes it, but only as a friend, this pairing completely misses the point of Fry and Leela that made it so charming. And while Fry could get jealous of other guys Leela had an interest in, Elfo is downright possessive, sabotaging her relationships with guys she shows interest in. Where as Fry is generally a nice guy who doesn’t act entitled to ownership of Leela, Elfo deliberately hurts and lies to Bean to manipulate her. As a result, they have no chemistry, and I wasn’t at all saddened by Elfo dying toward the end of season 1. Frankly if they left him dead or forced him to live far away from Bean for a season or two, it might help give him a personality outside of obsessive stalker.

Althought I was an avid Klance shipper, had Allurance at least been well-written I could have unenthusiastically lived with it. But Allurance was straight up toxic from every angle. First and most importantly, Allura never showed any interest in Lance. Unlike Leela who slowly warmed up to Fry and came to like him on her own gradually, Allura always looked annoyed and frustrated whenever Lance hit on her. It wasn’t until after Lotor broke Allura’s heart that she suddenly and randomly gained feelings for Lance literally out of nowhere. It wasn’t earned, there was no build up to the payoff, and Lance didn’t act any differently to change her opinion of him. The only reason Allura finally settled for Lance was because she felt betrayed, she knew Lance wouldn’t do that to her, and she used his feelings for her to validate her self-worth. The entire time they spent as a couple, she completely disregarded his feelings, his opinions, his concerns, his needs, and his help. At no point during their relationship did she put Lance first. He always had to put her needs above his own. And who did Lance turn to when he needed someone to lean on? Oh right, Keith. Someone he has actual romantic chemistry with who doesn’t use him as an emotional bandage. And Lance has Allura on this pedestal, worshiping her like some kind of goddess, to the point that he can’t see the way she’s using him. And if he can see it, he’s choosing to ignore it because he spent so long and fought so hard to win her over, he’s afraid to say anything that would risk losing someone he perceives as being too good for him, when in reality, he’s way too good for her. This entire pairing is just toxic. They’re both terrible for each other.

But a hopeless pining idiot isn’t always excruciatingly painful. In the first three volumes of RWBY, Jaune Arc is hopelessly pining after Weiss Schnee. Every time he does, she turns him down. However, while he is still on the cringy side of “can’t take a hint”, he is able to put Weiss first. When he finds out she likes someone else, he actually gives the guy a pep talk and encourages the guy to go out with her. But with Weiss and Jaune being reuinted in season 5, and team RWBY being officially back together in season 6, we saw a glimmer of this ship rear its ugly little head and frankly, it hasn’t really earned the right to sail yet. While Jaune and Weiss have both matured, nothing has really changed between them. Neither of them has really done anything to shift their dynamic from what it was when Weiss so bluntly turned Jaune down before. If this relationship is ever going to have to work, they both need to adjust their attitudes and the way they see each other. Right now, the most Jaune has is an infatuation. They don’t yet have the kind of bond where they seek one another out or turn to each other for comfort or advice. There are no seeds of trust or mature understandings of who each other are. They simply aren’t in a good place to start dating unless they can learn to be vulnerable with one another.

Of course, not all good pining ships have to end in a relationship. Pearl’s love and admiration for Rose Quartz is beautifully complex, tying into her own feelings of worthlessness and how Rose made her feel like she was more than what society told her she was. Yes, Pearl had elements of toxicity herself, being possessive, jealous toward Greg, and putting Rose on a pedestal above herself. However, a big part of her character is learning to recognize and move past these feelings of entitlement toward Rose. Learning to accept, let go, and move on from this deeply rooted pining. The show fully admits that Pearl never had a chance with Rose. She never saw Pearl that way, and while Pearl’s feelings are not inherently invalid, and there’s a good reason for her to love Rose as much as she does, it doesn’t distract from the fact that Rose never returns Pearl’s feelings and Pearl simply needs to move on with her life.

While pining is not an inherently bad trope, it’s one that’s very easy to mess up. Too often it comes in the form of a “nice guy” who can’t take a hint, making the girl he likes angry, frustrated, or uncomfortable in the process only to be rewarded by being an unrelenting stalker. It’s important that with pining, it needs to be mutual, and it usually works best as a slow burn. A girl turning a guy down and him not stopping isn’t romantic, it’s creepy and annoying. A relationship isn’t built on one person idolizing the other and having the other person settle. It’s about understanding another person better than anyone else. Having someone you can be truly vulnerable and yourself with, who understand the way you think, and cares about you enough to be able to put themselves aside to give you what you need without taking it to the extreme of neglecting themselves in the process. Pining isn’t inherently funny, the loser getting the girl isn’t automatically romantic, and a just because it takes a girl seven seasons to give in to his relentless pursuit is not guaranteed to be endearing to your audience. If you do not build it properly, it will fall apart on itself. This trope needs to be used strategically and handled well to tug on an audience’s heartstrings, but when done right can have a very satisfying payoff.

#writing tips #get it write #writing relationships #writing romance #writing #romance #relationships #ships #pining #allurance #phillip j fry #turanga leela #futurama #bean #elfo #tiabeanie #disenchantment #voltron #vld #pearl #su pearl #rose quartz #rose quartz su #white knight #rwby #jaune arc #weiss schnee

[etheralisi]

ρυмρкιη ριε αη∂ αℓℓ тнιηgs ηιcε

Uses references to this fic:<br /> https://archiveofourown.org/works/5832037

And more or less based on this prompt:<br /> http://transcendence-au.tumblr.com/post/160337841310/fluffbird-writing-prompt-s-an-old-and-homely#notes

Alternatively titled ‘Why Gloria Jenkins Should Not Be Allowed Near Candles’, this was the first tau fic I managed to complete back in 2018. It’s undergone a few changes, because ehhh, but I’ll release it into the wild as a short something. It’s doing nothing here, lying around and collecting dust.

𝙰 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐  

𝙱𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎   

 ~ 𝙹𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝙺𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛

 Gloria smiled to herself as she sunk into her chair, her heart as toasty as an open fire, and insides tingling with the lingering feeling of contentment. Sure, the darn thing was falling apart, ragged at the edges and probably worth no more than a penny or two in a garage sale. Stuffing was oozing out that very moment. But it was home , and everything she had left of a life lived, with children running and screaming within these walls. Growing up. Living. Thriving. Leaving the coup to fly free.

 But her? The mother hen? She stayed home.

 After such a busy day of rooting around her loft for family photo albums, she honestly felt this time to rest her aching bones was well and truly earned, and no, she won’t take any constructive criticism on the matter thank you very much. What was, however, unfortunate to admit aloud and something she’d never in a million years concede to in front of her family was that her bones weren’t as energetic as they had been once upon a time… much alike her dwindling eyesight. Hazy blobs, it all was. Pretty ones, but hazy nonetheless. Her world became an abstract painting the very second her glasses left her face.

 The elderly woman groaned, realisation dawning like a sledgehammer to the head, full on smack. She knew something had been missing. Her glasses! The darn things! How could she have possibly forgotten such an important item as those? 

 Using as much force as she could, Gloria found it in her to haul herself out of the comfort of her chair, even with her body’s initial protest. She stumbled about the house a bit, the grace of a drunkard or woman in need of glasses, searching for the location of wherever she had last left her glasses case. It had been, what? Two moments ago when she saw them? She’d put down the glasses into the case, taken her seat, and fallen into quiet bliss in her chair. Had it been knocked off and fallen under something? 

 Luck was on her side since her vision wasn’t as bad as it could have been in a few years time, deteriorating as the months wander by, so she managed to make out the basic shapes and colours of her surroundings just fine. No walking into walls for this woman!

 Ah. Wait. No. Luck was very much not on her side at all, the case still having failed to show, and Gloria had to result to “making a strategic retreat” as she put it, deeming it inefficient to keep looking for something which would just turn up sooner or later when she wasn’t really looking for it. Thus is the way of life. Shrugging, she made her way back to her sad but lovable excuse for a couch seat, only stopping when she noticed the basket by the front door that she had placed there little under an hour earlier. Her niece, Juliana, had asked if Gloria had any family photos left in her house that she could share with her immediate family, and she had risen to the challenge by diving into her vast loft. And yes, she meant vast . There’s got to be at least two or three sigils on the walls at least to enlarge the interior to twice that of the outside. It was all new technology at the time she bought this house. All the rage.

 So. The whole place was a disaster zone. Where all those missing trinkets turn up. Lost some socks? Probably go there, somehow. Good luck finding it in the coming year.

 Getting to that album sure took some sweet sweet time. Which is why, on her long perilous journey, family photo albums weren't the only things she had found in her search, the numerous other knick knacks of various interest lying within the basket being an obvious example of this. There had been plenty of things she’d forgotten about, stashed away within the depths of the loft, never to be seen until they resurfaced that very day. Her gaze drifted to the fuzzy, orange sticks lying atop the basket that vaguely looked like fat carrots, if a little waxy if you so chose to chew them. But don’t be fooled by her eyesight, for they weren’t as they seemed.

 She was pretty sure those were the candles she’d found hiding in a box labelled “ dangerous ”. Gloria had no idea why they had been labelled as such (maybe a potential fire hazard? Children’s grabby hands and whatnot) and could honestly never remember buying any candles from the Pine River Candle Company in her life. Yet, she knew good quality candles when she saw them, so she had taken them out of their box and added them to her basket to be brought down and used whenever she wanted to make her home smell like fresh pumpkin pie.

 Hmm… fresh pumpkin pie, huh? It got her in the mood for a spot of baking. Reminded her of all those years back, the big grin her grandson had always given her whenever a plate stacked with her baked treats was laid out before him.

 Alas the boy never really seemed to come visit his ol’ granny anymore, always giving excuses (and oh how he had the audacity to deny them being so — she knew an excuse when she heard one, could sniff one out from a mile away, blindfolded), and barely ever sent her up a Christmas card! 

 Well, it was his loss. He didn’t want to eat her baking anymore, then fine! She knew others, like the postman, for one, who’d take kindly to being fed.

 With that thought in mind, Gloria picked up all six of the candles and made a return back into the living room. She began placing them all around the perimeter of the room, lighting them one by one as she went.

 Her chair made protests of its own as she plonked herself back, age being something they both shared in common. Sadly. But she was no feeble woman, and outright refused to fall apart. Nope, not today. Life was good. Great even. 

 Caught in the moment, she sniffed the now heavily sweet scented air, an aroma that spelled everything she loved more than words could describe. It frolicked, dispersing itself throughout the air, tickling her nose as if it were a feather.

  Ah, perfect.

 Her eyelids began to shut as exhaustion took ahold of her, which is why it can be excused how she completely missed the way the candles in the room flickered, one by one being replaced with a much more menacing azure flame. Nor did she bear witness to the figure who popped into her living room in a plume of smoke.

 What she did not miss, however, was the way said figure grumbled under his breath at the use of scented candles. Just, come on! She may have been old and her sight may have been lacking, but she wasn’t deaf! 

 Gloria wearily cracked open her left eyelid, before blinking twice to snap herself out of her stupor. The peculiarity of a strange man being in her house was something to pay attention to. And complaining about her candles no less?

 Wait…

 That brown blob of hair, that voice… could it be? 

 “Arthur, is that you?” Speak of the devil, had her grandson finally decided to get up off his backside and visit his old lady?

 Somehow, though she didn’t know how, the room seemed to become ever more quiet as if trapped within a bubble of silence where not even time dared to flow.

 “Uhm…” ‘Arthur’ choked out at last, “ Excuse me? ”

 “Aha!” Gloria’s mouth twisted up with glee as she let out a small, victorious laugh which somehow morphed into a gleeful cackle when on the verge of petering out, “I knew it! You couldn’t stay away from my baking forever!”

 “Your- nevermind .” He took a deep breath just before he continued, his words strained. “Look, Gloria, I’m not Arthur. I’m Alcor and I-.”

 “Alcor huh?” She hummed in thought, not noticing how ‘Arthur’ harrumphed at her interruption. “Sounds pretty dumb. Why’d you change it?”

 “And...” Gloria squinted, continuing. “What’s with the wardrobe change? Have you gone gothic, Arthur? That’s a lot of black you’re wearing.”

 ‘Arthur’ didn’t take too kindly to her plethora of questions, already shuffling backwards from her chair. “... Look, this seems like it was some mistake. I’m just going to go..”

 With a speed so fast that she might have even broken the sound barrier, Gloria was out of her chair and had her hand firmly grasped around his arm, “You’re not going anywhere young man! Don’t you dare stop by for two minutes and then leave! You’re coming with me to the kitchen and we’re going to do some baking together just like we used to.”

 She noticed him start to speak, though she cut him off before he could even so much as squeak a word out.

 “Now off you trot, to the kitchen!” She released her hand from his arm and began pushing him through to said destination. “This rocky road cake isn’t going to bake itself.”

 ‘Arthur’ seemed to perk up at the mention of ‘rocky road’ and Gloria couldn't help but snicker at his sweet tooth. Some things never seemed to change.

 “Ro͜cky̶ ͟ro͘àd͏?” He asked with an odd layer of reverb, getting Gloria to begin questioning if hearing was going a little off after all. 

 “Yes.” She sighed, already shovelling him into the kitchen and dismissing the reverb. “Now make yourself useful and turn on the oven.”

  Alcor’s gold on black eyes numbly trailed after the woman’s figure as she left, leaving him alone in some random kitchen and wondering what the actual heck just happened?

#Transcendence au #Bread fic

[celestianstars]

I’ll Always Be Here

Viktor Drago x Reader

Warnings: fluff, smut, slight angst

You and Viktor come home from a fight and he’s not feeling great about himself so you try to pull him out of his mood and let him know how amazing and loved he is.

——————————————————————————

The fight was finally over and you were headed to wait outside the locker room for Viktor to come out.

You felt so lucky to get to cheer for him and be at every fight to support him because having been with him for almost a year now, you held so much love for him you could barely contain it sometimes.

So many emotions rattled your body as you waited, amazement at how skilled he was, excitement to get to see him and congratulate him on another win and pride for all the work he put in that was paying off.

He truly knew what he was doing, you’d seen him deliver knockouts and watched him train for hours on the very rare occasion that Ivan let you even be in the same gym as him.

He was powerful, focused, strategic and just fucking scary when he was fighting and you weren’t going to lie that it was hot to see him like that especially because you also knew the softer side of him and could see that boxing wasn’t all of who he was.

You appreciated the times where he felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable around you, the times where he showed his trust in you and told you about his past and the people who’ve hurt him in his life.

While it made you sad to know that he’d been so starved of affection and had an unhealthy amount of pressure put on him, you were grateful that you had the opportunity to show him some love, to help him through his rougher days and support him like he supported you in your own life.

The safety and love you both felt from being with each other was more than you could have asked for in a relationship.

The sound of the door opening made you stand up a little straighter, interrupting your thoughts as Ivan and Viktor emerged.

Ivan only glanced at you and kept walking, still not really used to you being in Viktor’s life.

You were friendly with him but you knew it was gonna take time to warm up to him because he was stubborn and would never admit that seeing his son genuinely smile when he was around you was nice even despite his concerns about your intentions still.

“Hey! You were amazing out there! How are you doing?” you approached Viktor, taking his gym bag from him so you could carry it.

He protested but you shook your head, knowing he had to be exhausted and wanted to lighten the load just a little bit.

“Alright...tired, but glad to see you.” he cracked his neck and walked with you out to your car, his smooth accented voice making you smile.

He wasn’t a man of many words so not much was said as you walked but you were ok with that.

———

Back at your apartment he helped you make a late dinner after showering, getting to find out your favorite songs of the week from the music softly filling the room from where your phone was plugged into your speakers.

This wasn’t a rarity but more often that not Viktor would be so tired after a fight or from spending the day working and training that he’d just eat and fall asleep with his head on your chest, not even making it to your bed.

But tonight he wanted to be awake with you as long as possible despite his body being ready to collapse.

He was happy that he won tonight but he also had a lot on his mind and being around you, even if he didn’t express his feelings verbally, always helped him.

After he’d finished cleaning up in the kitchen he came to sit next to you on the couch, opening his arms to accommodate your small frame against him, his attention turning to what you were busy watching.

You glanced up at him for a second and could see that something was slightly off.

“Tell me what’s on your mind, baby.” you shifted under his grip, your body turning to give him your attention.

He closed his eyes and smiled slightly for a second at your use of “baby”.

He didn’t think he’d ever tire of hearing that from you, no one had ever called him that before but you said it often and it eased his mind more than he could express.

Allowing him to take the time to find his words, you gazed at his face curiously, trying to read what he was thinking since so much of his emotions were shown through his body language.

“I-I’m just thinking about fight with Creed again. I never lose, until then.” he sighed slowly.

Moving past that fight had been a struggle for him and you saw it first hand, from his conversations with Ivan about a lot of things that hadn’t been healed to the nights you’d come home or wake up to find him crying or deep in thought about things.

People had definitely talked about it and still did and while some of the noise was trash talking Viktor and his family name, there was a lot more that you saw was positive and supportive from people who knew what happened to Ivan after losing that infamous fight and weren’t interested in bashing his son also.

Giving a small sigh you cupped his scruffy cheeks so he was looking at you directly.

“Viktor, remember what Adonis told you, that you’re more than just one fight? He’s right, baby. Everyone can see that you’re talented and can hold your own in the ring but you aren’t just a fighter.” you let your fingers move across his cheeks gently, hoping that he could feel every ounce of your affection for him.

He could and he already felt some weight being lifted off his shoulders.

“You’re a lover, you’re passionate about the people you care about and you’re real funny when you want to be too honestly. Remember when we were in the gym one day and that little boy stopped us and asked for your autograph?”

“He didn’t have a poster of your father or anyone else, it was a poster of you and he told you that he hung it up on his wall and looked at it every night before bed because he watched all your fights with his dad and you inspired him and it would mean the world to him if you signed it.” you beamed at the recall of that day, remembering how happy he was the entire afternoon.

He nodded and wrapped his arms around you tighter when you moved from your position on the couch and straddled his lap.

“I know you have days where you struggle but I’m always gonna be here to remind you that you’re gonna be ok and that I love you and that you have worth no matter if you win or lose. And look at the fights you have won since then, including tonight! You’ve worked your ass off for years, it shows and I’m so proud, my love.” you leaned in and kissed him slowly, your arms around the back of his neck now.

He responded to your touch, his body seeming to relax now, his soft pink lips moving against yours.

“Thank you. I love you, thank you, Y/N. You always make me feel better.” his voice was barely above a whisper and he sounded so sincere and relieved that it pulled at your heart.

He kept leaving small kisses on your cheeks and your jawline, going back and forth between thanking you and telling you that he loved you and it was just so sweet, he had such a big heart and you loved him for it.

Eventually his kisses and his beard scratching against your skin made you giggle and you put your hands over his large ones that were cupping your cheeks, bringing them down to his chest.

He had a content little smile on his lips. You’d do anything to see him smile all day if you were being honest.

Things got quiet again, the noise from the tv moving to the background as you just sat in his lap and enjoyed the moment.

He couldn’t stop staring at you, his beautiful girl that was now playing with his hands, rubbing your thumbs over his calluses and knuckles, turning them over to intertwine your fingers with his before placing a small kiss on the back of his hand.

He liked when you did things like that, held his hands or played with them when you were bored or nervous or just touch him anywhere really, he wasn’t used to being touched with so much care or love before but he liked it, craved it actually.

You knew you should probably be attempting to get to bed since you had an early shift tomorrow and it was late but Viktor mattered to you more at the moment.

Things had started out innocently enough and though neither of you had the intention, the way you were playing with his hands and his repeated kisses turned into something else rather quick.

———

Viktor felt better after listening to you, making a mental note to remember this conversation when he was feeling down about himself again.

In the meantime, he wanted to show his appreciation for your time and your words and also in part because the way you were sitting in his lap had gotten him a little worked up.

It had been a few days since you last had sex since he was really in the zone leading up to fight night but now, all his pent up arousal couldn’t be ignored any longer.

He pulled you forward, his sturdy arms wrapping around your waist snugly again as he placed tender kisses along your neck, mumbling something against your skin.

You could only hear “....want you” but you caught on and it didn’t take long for you to start feeling feverishly hot, your clothes suddenly feeling restrictive, like your skin wasn’t close enough to his.

His hands moved from your waist and slid up your tummy under your shirt, arousing him even more than he already was at the sight of your nipples hardening through your shirt.

He was thankful that you had started birth control recently because he didn’t think he could find the strength to pull away from you to get a condom, he needed you so bad.

You placed soft kisses around his still slightly swollen cheekbone after you peeled your shirt off, letting his hands explore wherever they liked.

Small gasps and sighs left your lips as his mouth moved to your nipples, sucking them into his mouth while his hands squeezed your ass, prompting you to grind on his lap slowly.

He groaned lowly against your skin, the bulge in his sweatpants now pressing against you.

“Fuck!” he cursed under his breath and laughed breathlessly as you moved your hand down between his legs, a smirk forming on your face from his reaction.

You loved when he cursed like that, it only made you wetter.

He kissed you needily, your arms tangled around him as you moved your hips a little faster now, whining against his mouth.

“You want it, don’t you?” he hummed, smiling to himself when you nodded quickly and got off him for a minute to undress.

He had such a way of instantly arousing you sometimes and while usually there was a lot more time given towards foreplay, tonight was not that night.

You finished stepping out of your panties, moving them aside with your toes while he lifted his hips up and pushed his sweatpants down, his cock springing forward.

He wrapped a hand around himself and pumped his shaft a few times before you straddled his lap again.

You could see the side of his fingers glistening with precum and you gently took his wrist in your hand, guiding his finger into your mouth, moaning at the taste.

You had missed this so much and it was nice to get to have a moment like it again.

Viktor shook his head slightly, always in awe of the many different ways you showed your desire of him.

Growing tired of the ache between your legs, you moved your hips again, gliding your pussy over his shaft a few times to coat him in your juices before you raised yourself up on your knees a bit to guide him inside you.

He sucked in air through his teeth as your walls enveloped him, sinking down onto his length with a long moan, his hands finding your hips.

You moaned out his name as you leaned back, bracing a hand against his knee and began to ride him, rolling your hips as you went up and down.

He held you in place by your hips, securing that you didn’t slip back but let you control the pace, let you do what you wanted to him, absolutely mesmerized with how beautiful your body looked as you rode him.

He could tell he was hitting that spot just right at this angle and bit his lip, leaning forward to leave kisses down your torso, your hands now wrapping around the back of his neck as you bounced on him faster and harder now, both your moans and grunts filling the air.

He spread his feet apart a little wider as he thrusted upwards to meet your hips each time you came down on him, your name falling from his lips mixing in with a dozen curse words and pet names for you in Russian.

Trying to keep your eyes on his soft, big ones was a challenge because the pleasure working throughout your body was making everything so hazy but he enjoyed watching your eyes flutter closed every few seconds as you sped up your pace, he loved that he could do this to you.

“Oh god, fuck! I missed this so much, baby.” you whimpered into the crook of his neck, your body seeking out the climax you were rushing towards now.

“Mmm I missed this too.” Viktor murmured, feeling his own orgasm getting closer.

The rhythm of your hips stuttered as you came, your moans muffled against his shoulder as you rode out your high, Viktor following right behind you, not bothering to pull out.

You stayed in that position for a little while, both catching your breath and planting more kisses on each other.

Your eyes had grown heavier and so had his but you felt content and satisfied all the same.

Viktor knew he was about to get the best sleep of his life with you in his arms and with that knowledge he ignored his own fatigue a little longer so he could carry you to bed, cleaning you up as well as himself before holding his arms open so you could curl up against his body, pulling the duvet over you.

“Thank you, Y/N. For everything.” he whispered to you once again as he placed a kissed on your temple, his arms finding their natural way around your body to hold you close.

You were half asleep as he said it but you hummed in response, knowing that he knew what you meant by it.

He loved you more than he could possibly say and he never knew he could have so many strong feelings toward someone before but here you were and here he was and he was grateful and happy for your presence in his life just as you were for his.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Tags: @themyscxiras @chaneajoyyy @dragothishole @champagnesugamama

@dc41896 @fumbling-fanfics @queen-of-the-jabari 

If anyone wants to be tagged in future Viktor fics just let me know!! 

#probably one of my fave things i’ve written cause viktor is so soft here 💕 #amalia writes #viktor drago fanfiction #viktor drago x reader