#by just giving you a black screen or a shot of where she was supposed to be that just never moves on

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Playin’ Games (Choso x Self-Insert!Reader 18+ One Shot) [COMMISSION FILL]

Pairing: Choso x Self-Insert!Reader (Friends to Lovers & Forbidden Love)

Synopsis: In which your brother's best friend calls from his business trip to play a game of truth or dare over a Skype call, but it quickly turns into something else once your brother heads to bed and naughty pics and strip teasing get involved.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+; No Curse AU; Reader is Black, Fem & Plus-Sized; Musician!Choso; Truth or Dare; Alcohol Consumption; Lowkey Flirting; Sending Nudes; Sexual Tension; Strip Tease; Fingering; Clit Stimulation; Facefucking; Blood Play; Feral MDom!Choso; fsub!Reader; Almost Caught; Sneaky Sex; Hold The Moan; Cowgirl; Spit Play; Spanking; Unprotected PIV Sex; Creampie; Aftercare 

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: Thank you again for @curiouscutie143 for asking me to write this for a commission & continuing to trust me to write about her fucking 2D animated characters lmaoo. I hope you enjoy! -Jazz

*******

“I dare you to go to the kitchen without using your feet.”  “How in the hell am I supposed to do that?” Choso asks, dumbfounded. 

“You’ve got an ass, dontcha?” your brother shoots back from behind his laptop. Choso looks at you and then at your brother, completely done. “What are you, twelve?” he scoffs.

Your brother smirks at the screen while you giggle in the background, busy scrolling on Twitter while you watch this stupid game unfold on Zoom. “Thirteen, actually,” he answers. “Now you finna do it or not?” 

Choso sighs, but pushes himself back from his computer desk in his spacious hotel suite and angles the camera to his MacBook Air down so you and your bro can see him. With his back to you, he lowers himself down to the ground and scoots to the kitchenette on his very toned and firm behind like a dog without once ever using his feet. 

Your bro laughs wildly at this, slapping his knee. “You look so dumb!” he cackles. You can’t help but giggle too, having watched them play ‘Truth or Dare’ on the app he and Choso are connected on for rounds. Despite being grown-ass adults, they’re still kids at heart. 

You can’t help but love their relationship. Despite Choso being larger than life as a musician and the opposite of your brother (stoic and quiet while your bro is wild and a damn near crackhead), he never once treated your bro any differently when he started blowing up. Their decade-old friendship has only grown over time. That includes making calls when Choso is on business trips. 

Right now, he is an hour away from where you are for a press conference tour. “It’s for a damn movie cameo,” he sighed when he told you and your bro the news. “It’s only for three days, but trust and believe, I don’t wanna go.” To keep him company, your bro called him in his hotel room and suggested a game to pass the time on a boring Saturday night. 

When he gets to the kitchen, Choso gets up and goes into the fridge for some chilled wine. You watch his muscles flex underneath his shirt and his toned ass in his sweats. His black hair is styled in a mullet and hangs slightly in his face, his piercings (one on the eyebrow, the other pierced in his bottom lip) glint at you, and his arms sinewy with muscles and ink always have the girls wet…including you.

He then walks back to his laptop and he sits back down.  “Y/N, how do you approve of your brother’s childish behavior?” he sighs as he pops open the wine.

“Because she’s just as childish as me,” your brother chuckles. You smack him on the arm. “Not true, dickhead,” you grumble. “Only because it’s fun watchin’ you do all of these stupid dares…plus I can see that those squats are workin’ for you, Choso.” 

Choso gives you an almost bashful smile while your brother gives you a disgusted look. “Ew, Y/N,” he comments. “Stop tryin’ to fuck my friend.” You gape at him, scoffing. “Says the main one who’s been tryin’ to fuck my friends since high school!” you scoff and kick at him. “Slut.” 

Choso laughs as your brother tries to hit you back, but knocks his beer over. He swears, jumping off of the couch and under the coffee table to clean it up. “Thank you, Y/N,” Choso says through the screen in that smooth, soft, deep voice you’re so addicted to. “Maybe one day, I’ll invite you to my kickboxing classes, though I think I’d be a better instructor.” You think you imagine it, but you believe you see him wink at you. 

“I’m sure you would,” you reply, not meaning it to come off so seductive, but it just does. You see his gorgeous eyes, dark and intoxicating, briefly flit down to your cleavage that has been exposed from under your robe. All you’re wearing underneath it are your sweats and a cami…without a bra. Though it’s your usual sleep attire, Choso’s gaze makes you feel like it’s lingerie. 

“Whatcha say, Y/N?” your bro asks. “You made me drop my damn beer!” He shoves you out of the way and you quickly close your robe. “Just about Choso possibly inviting me to a kickboxing class just to show me up.” 

Choso raises his hands in mock offense. “Guilty as charged,” he chuckles. “So whose turn is it now?” He jumps right back into the game like he wasn’t just flirting with you and eyeing down his best friend’s sister. 

That’s another thing that’s grown over time: your relationship with Choso. You’ve always had a crush on him, but since growing up, that crush has only intensified when you began to see how fine he was. You don’t recall quite when the flirting started, but when it did, neither one of you could stop. 

You couldn’t get enough of it: the sly looks at each other over your brother’s shoulder when you go out together or whenever Choso visits; the lowkey, flirtatious compliments you throw at each other; the playful arguments; the small touches on the arm or the back, innocent and comforting but exciting. You feel in your gut that Choso feels the same way you do for him, but you don’t dare bring it up or acknowledge your feelings because of your brother. It would make things too awkward and uncomfortable, you’re sure! So you keep quiet. 

You groan, tossing your phone aside once you look at the time: 9:15 PM. “Can y’all stop here for now? Y’all have been playin’ this for over an hour!” Your brother, tipsy, narrows his eyes at you. “Hell no!” he exclaims. “Drunk truth or dare is the best! And you not even playin’, so why are you complainin’ ‘bout it?” 

You glare at him and plunk him in the head with your thumb and forefinger. “Because, smartass, I have a meeting tomorrow morning at 8 AM and I need to be up at 7 to get ready.” Choso scowls at the idea of this as he sips his wine. “A work meeting on a Sunday?” he asks. “Where do you work, Y/N? In Hell?” 

“Yes,” you joke, earning the sexiest laugh you’ve ever heard from him. “It’s some kind of team meeting my office does every month to check in on everybody and see if we have any issues with the company. It’s fine, just as long as it’s virtual which it always is.” 

Choso smiles happily at you, the sight of it almost blinding and tortuous. Why is this man so fine yet so unavailable?! “Congrats again on that promotion! I knew you’d get in eventually. I’m sure it was the pencil skirts instead of your brains.” He smirks teasingly at you. “Oh, yes, definitely,” you giggle. “And the heels.” 

That piques Choso’s interest intensely. “Oh, heels, hm?” he thoughtfully hums. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in heels before.” 

Your brother rolls his eyes, not at all catching onto what’s happening between you two. “Can y’all stop talkin’ ‘bout shoes and get on with the next game?” he huffs. “It’s my turn!”

Choso’s eyes trail over to you sitting behind your brother, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Actually…Y/N, you sure you don’t wanna play? We can just do truths with you if you’re not comfortable with dares. I’d feel bad to see you just sittin’ there without playing one round.” 

“Uh…” You think about it for a moment. It couldn’t hurt, especially since you don’t go to bed until 10 PM. Plus, the look in Choso’s eyes is getting to you…like he wants you to stay. “Sure, why the hell not?” You shrug, earning a joyous smile. “Truth or dare then?” your brother asks.

You look at Choso, who is already looking at you, on the screen. “Truth.” Your bro presses the button on his phone and laughs at the truth prompt written. “Who was your childhood crush?” he reads. “No celebrities or 2D animated characters allowed. Damn, this app is stirrin’ the pot!” 

Your eyes widen, panic striking you. How are you supposed to answer that when the man sitting here on call with you is your childhood crush? Not to mention how awkward the truth would make things. “Uh…” You trail off, the silence thickening as the two wait for your response. 

You can almost feel Choso’s eyes burning into you. You look away to your bro instead to avoid breaking out into a sweat. “Don’t laugh,” you begin, “but it was my second-grade bully. I thought about kissing him so many times even though he kept pullin’ my braids in class.” 

“Oh, yeah, I remember that guy,” your brother responds. “You gave him that anonymous V-Day card you made in art class that one time in third grade, right?” You nod, giggling. “Yeah!” you laugh. “He told me he still had it in eighth grade! By that time, he was sweet.” 

“Well, that’s cute,” Choso’s says, sounding odd. You can’t put your finger on why. “I remember I got an anonymous V-Day card in third grade too, but never found out who it was. What a coincidence.” You chew on your bottom lip and your body becomes hot with shame for lying. Choso knows damn well that you a damn lie because you gave that anonymous V-Day card to him all those years ago. 

“I-I’m gonna go get a drink,” you weakly say and hurry from the couch to the kitchen. You’re glad to have some privacy and to pour yourself some wine from the fridge. You take three greedy sips, letting it calm your rapidly beating heart. You should’ve never agreed to do this. It’s too awkward. Too tense. Maybe going to bed is a better idea. Maybe– 

“Oh, shit!” your overly-dramatic brother yells out. Immediately, you run back into the living room after nearly dropping your glass. “What is it?” you huff. “What happened?” Your bro hands you his phone as he opens his second beer. “Read this dare for Choso!” he guffaws. 

You take the phone and read it aloud for Choso to hear: “‘I dare you to take a thirst trap photo and post it on all of your social media accounts.’.” You gape at Choso who looks just as perplexed as you. Why is this game so horny?! 

Your bro smirks at Choso on the laptop. “Well, you gon’ do it, Cho?” he cackles. “You’ve gotta do what the app says unless you too pussy.” The black-haired, tatted stud contemplates this as he sips his wine. 

“Don’t listen to him, Choso,” you huff, slapping your sibling on the back of the neck. “He’s just bein’ a dick as usual.” 

But Choso is already standing up, angling the computer camera up so you can see him. “Nah, I’ll do it. Have you ever known me as someone who backs down from a challenge, Y/N?” He gives you a slight wink that even you almost missed and your mouth goes dry like the Sahara desert when he reaches for his shirt. Before you realize it, you’re watching him lift his shirt over his head and expose his impressive, toned body. 

Inked abs. Tatted biceps. Pecs and pierced, pink nipples you want to suck on. Your eyes run greedily down his form as takes his phone and snaps a quick picture, the flash on his phone going off. “There, happy?” he asks. Your brother shakes his head. “Post it or it ain’t happen!” he demands. Choso rolls his eyes but does as he’s told and takes a moment to type some things on his phone. 

Minutes later, your and your bro’s phones go off, signaling the arrival of new notifications. Your brother erupts with laughter, throwing his head back. “There it goes!” he laughs. “Damn, Cho, you been workin’ out on your trip?” 

You go to IG and sure enough, there it is: the thirst trap that is now making rounds and generating thousands of likes and horny comments below. So many people talking about how they’d let Choso fold them like lawn chairs and use their holes up. You definitely understand and relate, your mind going to crazy places as you stare at his abs and his hair that you want to yank on while he fucks you. “Damn,” you whisper. 

“See somethin’ you like, Y/N?” Choso asks, his voice washing you in heat and tingles. You don’t look at him, too afraid that he’ll see you drooling or you may start fucking your brother’s laptop. You have no choice but to keep your thighs clamped shut and your mind straight despite the sips of wine you take as the game rolls on.

At some point, as time goes on, your brother gets tired and drags his drunk ass upstairs, leaving you and Choso alone. You feel like you should hang up the call and go to sleep, but you find yourself staying with your wine glass half empty. “So what are you gonna do now?” Choso asks after a beat of awkward silence. “Go to bed?” At this point, he has put his shirt back on, much to your dismay. 

“I’m more interested in talkin’ to you,” you say and then flush at your boldness. Usually, you’re not afraid to shoot your shot first, but to do it to Choso so brazenly makes you feel odd. Or maybe it’s just the wine talking. “I-I mean, it’s been a minute since we’ve seen each other, y’know?” 

Choso looks like he’s happy you made the first move regardless. He rests his chin on his knuckles, staring you down from behind the screen. “So what’s this about your childhood crush bein’ your bully?” he asks. You nearly choke as you sip your wine, feeling warmer and bubblier the more you drink. “Damn, you get straight to it.” 

Choso flushes, his pale skin turning red. “Sorry, it’s the alcohol. I can stop if you want me to, but it’s kinda buggin’ me, especially since my childhood crush was you for so many years…which I probably wouldn’t have said if it wasn’t for the wine.” 

You gape at him, shocked. “Really?” you softly ask. “I…didn’t know that.” He gives you a sheepish smile. “That’s ‘cause I didn’t want anyone to know,” he explains. “But we’re both grown and mature…most of the time, anyway. I think you can handle a little crush from when we were kids, right?” 

You go quiet, letting this information wash over you. Despite the flirting you would do behind your brother’s back, it hits different when you now know that without an inch of uncertainty, he’s felt the same way about you that you have always felt about him. “Y/N?” he asks, his soothing voice pulling you back to reality. He’s looking at you with those burning, passionate eyes. “Was that V-Day card I got from you?” Whether it’s the wine or his magnetic pull, you answer him: “Yeah,” you confess. 

“So that story of your bully was bullshit,” he chuckles. 

“Yeah,” you repeat because what else is there to say? Choso takes a sip of his wine, still staring you down from behind his laptop. “Whatcha wanna do, Y/N?” he asks. 

It’s a simple question, but the way he says it–so deep and seductive–makes something come alive inside of you. It makes your stomach flutter and your nipples harden beneath your top. He has put the ball completely in your court to either continue this little game or call it quits. You choose the latter. “I’ve got an hour before my bedtime,” you say, keeping your voice leveled. “How about another game?” 

Choso looks worried. “Don’t you have that meeting tomorrow?” he asks. “I wouldn’t want you to miss out on your rest.” You laugh, pouring yourself some more wine…which probably isn’t the best idea. “I once didn’t go to bed until 3 AM because I was binge-watching Korean dramas,” you giggle. “I think I can handle some rounds.” 

As soon as you say it, you realize how it sounds. Choso smirks to himself, tapping his finger against his desk. “Oh, can you?” he purrs. “We’ll see. Truth or dare, then?” You choose carefully, weighing your options. “Dare,” you decide. 

“I dare you to send me a pic of you in your favorite pumps,” he says without missing a beat. “If you’re comfortable with that. It can be an old pic or a new one. I ain’t picky.” He gives you a warm smile that’s supposed to be unnerving, but it only makes you feel more nervous. You weren’t expecting that dare, but then again, you opened the door to this. “O-Okay,” you stutter.

You proceed to scroll through your phone for the sexiest selfie you can find. You find one of you at a Christmas cocktail party for work in a dress that had heads turning and heels that made you feel like a straight vixen. Without a second thought, you send it over to Choso. There is a ding from his phone and, for a moment, only silence. “Did you get it?” you nervously ask. 

Choso is staring at his phone, not moving an inch. “Yeah, I got it,” he answers, his voice light and breathy. “Damn, Y/N, how the fuck are you single?” His question makes butterflies flutter rapidly in your stomach. 

You then get a ding from your phone and look down to see the thirst trap photo in your messages. “Oh, you sent me your thirst trap privately, huh?” you chuckle, not looking up, so you don’t see Choso taking another very risque photo of himself. “I feel so special.” 

“I sent you somethin’ else too.” The way he says it is like sex to you. Sure enough, a second attachment comes in. You open it and nearly choke on your wine: Choso leaning back against his computer desk, a hand resting on the outline of his very big, very hard, and very obvious bulge beneath his pants. Your lips part in shock, your eyes widening as big as saucers. 

“Too much?” he asks, worried that he went too far. As if learning how to function again, you shake your head. “No,” you exhale. “It’s just…big.” You wonder how it’d feel in your hands…or in your mouth…or in another throbbing hole that is bothering you between your thighs. “So I’ve been told,” he sniggers. “I’m guessing it’s up to your liking, then?” 

You don’t know why that turns you on–the idea that he’s so interested in whether or not he turns you on–but you find yourself scrolling through your camera roll again and picking one of your faves: a mirror photo of you laid out on your bed on your stomach, your ass tooted up in the air in a thong while the rest of you is naked, your juicy breasts squished against the mattress under you. “Maybe this will tell you so,” you purr and hit send. “I had this saved in my camera ‘cause I looked so hot in it.” 

Ding! Choso looks down at his phone and the way he bites his lip makes you drip. “And that you do,” he exhales. “And I’ll ask you again: how the fuck are you single? Shit, princess.” 

You bite your own lip, struggling to control yourself. “You’re makin’ me blush,” you giggle. “You know, it looks much better in person.” You pause, scolding yourself and the wine for making you so damn bold. 

Choso’s eyes light up with interest. “Oh, yeah?” he asks, practically tossing his phone aside. “I think I should be the judge of that.” He leans into the camera, making your heart pound. “Take that off,” he demands, nodding at your robe. “It’s just me, Y/N.” 

Yes, just him. Just your brother’s best friend. Just the man you’ve known since childhood and have been crushing on for years. But something in his eyes makes you realize that you can trust him with anything. So you rise from the couch and slowly slip off your rope in front of the camera. Choso watches, drinking in every move you make. You then turn around and slip off your pants, revealing your panties swallowed by your magnificent ass to him. “Is this okay?” you softly ask. 

You turn back to face him and he looks damn pained as he stares at your behind. “Fuck,” he gasps. “It’s more than okay. I’m so tempted to jump in my car and pull up right now.” You scoff with laughter, but at the look in his eyes, you can tell he’s dead-ass. 

“Wait, you would?” you gasp. “But…it’s the middle of the night and we’re an hour away!” His eyes flick up to meet yours, firm and not up for the bullshit. “If it’s something you want too, I’d drive to you if you were a week away,” he softly growls, conviction in his words. “I can come over tonight, Y/N, but it’s only if you want me to.” 

You gape at him, silenced. You can’t believe this is happening! This is beyond your wildest, wettest dreams! And yet your mind drifts to your brother. If you do this, will it change things? Wouldn’t he hear you? Would he find out? You’d feel so guilty if things were to change between him and Choso because of you. And yet… 

“I…I want you to,” you decide. “I really do, but what about my brother?” He shakes his head, chuckling to himself. “If he’s wasted, he can sleep through a tornado. Nothing has to happen if you’re nervous about that, but I’d like to see you.” 

And those words, sweet and considerate yet honest, are what make you fold. “I’ll leave the door unlocked. Get here in sixty.” Choso nearly knocks over the table as he shoots up from his desk. “Thirty ‘cause I’ll be doing sixty,” he growls. “Don’t move from that spot.” He blows you a kiss and ends the call, leaving you feeling drunk despite not having sipped that much wine. 

Already tipsy and feeling the alcohol’s effects on your body (tingly nipples; brief dizziness; horny thoughts), you switch it out with some water and sip on that while you clean up the living room. You busy yourself wiping down the kitchen countertops, straightening up the couch cushions, and cleaning up your slob of a brother’s beer cans. By the time you finish, thirty minutes have passed and anticipation hits you like a truck. 

Where is he? He hasn’t called you yet. What if he’s in traffic? What if something happened? What if he changed his mind? What if– 

A ding from your phone makes you jump and you race to answer it, seeing a text message waiting for you: 

Chosi: Hey, I’m outside

*read at 11:12 PM* 

You roughly swallow and close your robe before walking to answer the door. Choso is standing behind it when you open it, dressed in a jacket and jeans that fill him out so well. You both smile at each other, happy to see one another despite the circumstances.

“Uh, c-come in,” you stammer. He thanks you and walks inside, the scent of his cologne making your kitty purr wildly. You shut the door and shuffle behind him as he strips off his jacket. “You want somethin’ to drink?” ” you ask, nervously wringing your hands.  

Choso looks back at you as he hangs up his jacket on the coat rack near the door, his arms talking to you. He turns toward you fully, giving you a good look at how tight his top is on his body. “Do you want me to have somethin’ to drink?” he questions. 

You bite your lip, the silence mixed with the sexual tension too much. “No,” you breathe. He then saunters up to you, stopping when your nose is nearly brushing his chest. “I’m gonna ask you again if you want this, Y/N,” he whispers. “We can stop here and I can leave.” You look up into his eyes–those firm, beautiful eyes–and trail your hands up his chest. “No, don’t,” you plea. “Don’t leave.” 

His hands softly caress your sides, moving across your waist. “Tell me what you want,” he murmurs into your ear, his minty breath fanning across your cheek. Your eyes flutter shut, his seductive ways finally getting to you. “I want you,” you answer through a dry mouth. “I want this.” 

That’s all he needs to hear. His lips are on yours immediately and you nearly melt. His kiss is sweet and soft yet passionate, making you feel like you’re in a Disney movie when the princess finally kisses her prince. His hands move down to your ass, squeezing it, emitting a moan from you. Pulling away, he moves down to your neck and peppers it in kisses, coaxing you to tilt your head back for more. 

“You have no fuckin’ right to be this hot,” he growls against your neck. “Makin’ me feel this fuckin’ crazy.” 

He pushes against you, insisting that you feel his hard-on in his jeans. “Choso, please,” you mewl. “I need you.” You grip his shirt, imploring him to understand how goddamn horny you are. He pulls away and smirks down at you, chortling. “So impatient. Did those pictures rile you up?” He doesn’t need an answer. Instead, he sits down on the couch with his leg spread, staring up at you in hunger. “Get naked for me.” 

Like a puppet on a string, you do as he says and slowly take off your rope. Then it’s your top and bottoms. Then the undies. The more you take off, the harder Choso gets, forming a more obvious bulge in his pants as he stares you down. When you’re finally done and standing naked in front of him, he sits back against the cushions and pats his lap. 

You feel somewhat weird about it since Choso is so much smaller than you in terms of size, but the man welcomes all of your rolls, curves, and softness when you sit down in his lap naked while he remains clothed. “Your pictures do not do you any justice, babe,” he murmurs before leaning in to kiss, suck, and lap at your nipples. You moan, your hands tangling in his mullet. “So sexy,” he whispers against your nipples. “I’ve wanted to do this for so, so long.” 

His fingers toy with your plushy thighs and ass, squeezing the flesh to his liking. “Me too,” you moan. He chuckles against your nipple, nibbling at it with his teeth. “Yeah? You’ve dreamed of me touchin’ you like this?” His hand is suddenly probing your thighs open to toy with your pussy, his fingers gently rubbing your clit. 

You gasp, not being able to control your body. You find yourself sitting fully on his lap, your back to his front, with your legs wide open while he toys with your sobbing, wet cunt. You drip all over his jeans the more he rubs you, creating more and more wetness that floods over your pussy lips. “F-Fuck, Choso!” you whine, the pleasure just too much. 

“Hush, baby,” he chuckles. “I appreciate you bein’ so responsive, but your brother is right upstairs. You wouldn’t want him to come down to find my fingers stuffed in that pussy, would you?” You’re confused, feeling his fingers still on your clit. “B-But you don’t–” 

Your voice is cut off by a moan when he suddenly sticks one finger inside of you, using his palm to rub your needy, throbbing clit as he finger fucks you. “That’s better,” he laughs into your ear. “Oooh, that pussy is so tight for me. Have you been wantin’ me to this to you, baby?” He curls his finger up against your G-spot and you swear you almost cum. “Tell me,” he demands. 

“Yes!” you sob. “Yes, Chosi, I wanted this so bad!” Feral, Choso moans into your ear as he feels you squeeze and squelch around his digit. “You’re too fuckin’ cute,” he says, his voice strained and rough. “I wanna see the face you make when you cum. Can you take another finger for me, babe?” 

You nod and your pussy flutters around his magical finger, only getting worse when he inserts another one to fuck you silly. You cover your mouth as moans and whimpers escape you, loving how full you feel. You can only imagine how full you’d feel with his cock finally inside of you. The image brings you closer to the edge and Choso can feel it. 

“Cum for me, baby, c’mon,” he coos. “Cum on your brother’s best friend’s fingers like a good little girl.” You have to bite your lip to keep from crying out when you explode all over his digits. 

Your moans and cries are muffled by your mouth as you cum all over Choso’s fingers, coating him in your cream. He hums appreciatively and kisses your cheek, slowly stroking your walls as you come down from your high. He finally slips his fingers out of you and puts them up to your lips soaked in your cum. “Taste yourself.” You do so, opening your mouth and letting him insert his digits into your mouth where you swirl your tongue around them and suck on your juices. 

“Shit,” Choso groans, grinding himself up into you. You gasp, feeling his hardened cock pushing against you. “I can feel that you liked that,” you giggle. He hums in agreement, gripping your hips as he continues to roll himself into you. “Can I…see it?” you carefully ask, teeming with excitement. 

He coaxes you to get up off of his lap and face him. “You’ll have to take it out then,” he murmurs, giving you a stare as hot as molten lava in the dimly lit living room. “Take what you want, Y/N.”

With a fire burning inside of you, you take off his pants and boxers while he strips off his shirt, tossing it aside somewhere. When his hard, pulsing cock finally pops up, you have never been more happy to finally see a dick. He’s absolutely beautiful with smooth skin and a toned stomach leading down to that gorgeous cock. 

You settle onto your knees, ready to give him head to last him into next winter. “Your knees okay?” he worriedly asks. Before you can answer, he pulls you up and sits you down on the couch. “Here, switch with me. I want you comfortable.” You flush at his sweetness, never having received such care. “Such a gentleman,” you softly laugh. 

Choso gives you a sheepish smile. “I try. Now where were we?” he stands over you, appearing like an Adonis statue with tattoos and a thick cock in your face. 

You stand up on your knees on the couch, your greedy hands stroking up and down his body. “Your pictures don’t do you justice either,” you purr, running your palms down his toned, well-defined abs. “How you’re single is a mystery to the world, Sho.” You wrap a hand around him, beginning to stroke his cock up and down, up and down. 

Choso bites his lip, looking like he’s been waiting for this moment to finally come. “I didn’t want nobody else,” he softly moans. “I’ve always wanted you.” Overjoyed and completely horny, you give his cockhead a peck and then a kitten lick. “Tell me more,” you beg before you envelop him in your mouth. You immediately go to work, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head as you pump him in and out of your mouth. 

“Fuck,” he sighs, tossing his head back. “I-I’ve always wanted you, but–oh, God, babe, yes–I never said anything in fear of ruinin’ things with your brother.” You pop off of his cock, spit connecting his head to your lower lip. “Well, he doesn’t have to know,” you whisper. “We can take things slow.” He raises a brow at you. “This is takin’ things slow?” he chuckles. 

You giggle, still pumping his cock with your hand. “After this,” you laugh. “I want you too bad to stop.” You lower your mouth on him again, swallowing him whole.

“I guess a date is on the table for us then,” he groans. “Especially when you look that good on your knees.” He watches you continue to swallow his dick whole, flicking your pink tongue along the head and swirling along the throbbing vein trailing from his head to his heavy balls that you fondle. 

“Look up at me,” he demands. “Keep lookin’ at me while I fuck pretty face.” You do so and open your throat, allowing him to fuck your face. He grabs the back of your head as he does so, nailing his hips into your face again and again, his balls slapping your chin. He tosses his head back, overwhelmed by the feeling of your magical mouth sucking him dry. 

It doesn’t take him long to go faster, gripping your hair to allow him to pump his cock down your throat like it’s his personal toy. You feel your pussy throb at the sound of his soft moans and the gagging coming from your own mouth, wanting desperately for him to cum. “Fuck, baby,” he groans. “You ‘bout to make me cum! I-I’m gonna–” 

“Choso?” your brother suddenly calls. Choso freezes and you tear yourself away from him, your stomach flipping in absolute fear. From the steps, you see the hallway light flicker on and your brother’s shadow against the wall. ‘Shit,’ you think. You try to scramble away to hide, but Choso stops you, putting a finger to his lips. “Just keep quiet,” he whispers. “And keep suckin’.” 

His dark eyes flash with mischief and lust as his heavy cock bobs in your face. Tentatively, you place your lips around him again and proceed to suck on him. “Yeah, bro?” he calls, keeping his voice impressively normal. “Yeah, it’s me.” His hand once again finds your head, gently pushing you down farther to muffle the sounds of your wet, lewd sucks. 

“When the fuck did you get here?” your brother asks. “Why you here?” Choso bites his lip at the sensations you’re giving him, loving how your plump lips look wrapped around his dick. “Uh…just decided to visit ‘cause I was bored in that hotel,” he lies. “Y/N let me in before she went to bed. She let me sleep on the couch after I promised to make you guys pancakes tomorrow morning.” 

His hand reaches over to give your ass a quick spank, making you jump, mostly at the possibility of your brother hearing it. He doesn’t. “That’s cool with me,” he replies, sounding excited about the promise of food. “Lemme see you real quick though. I feel like it’s been ages since we–” 

“No, no, don’t!” Choso panics, gripping the back of your head to keep you still. “I look real bad, man, and I wouldn’t wanna break your sleep routine. Just go back to bed! I’ll see you in the morning when we both don’t look like shit.” He and you share a wide-eyed look, both scared shitless but also not wanting to stop. 

“Alright,” your brother decides. “But I want my pancakes!” You sigh in relief, feeling Choso do the same. “Alright, man, fine. Just go to bed.” You look up the stairs and see the hallway light flicker off. You stop sucking, listening intently to your brother’s footsteps as he shuffles back into his bedroom. Finally, the bedroom door closes and you hear silence. Choso pauses, waiting with bated breath. 

You pop him out of your mouth and sit up, spit dribbling from your lips and your hair a mess. “He’s asleep,” you tell him. “I know: he gets real quiet when he’s asleep.” He looks beyond relieved by that, but still appears worried. “Do you wanna keep going?” he asks, wiping some spit from your lower lip. His touch burns your skin. 

Your pussy throbs insistently, pushing you to give her what she needs. “Yes,” you whisper. “We just have to keep quiet.” Choso smiles, bringing you close to him. “I know a thing about quiet cumming,” he chuckles. “I don’t wanna do it down your throat though. I need you fuck you, baby…if you want that too.” 

You nearly cum right there. “Yes,” you softly moan as he begins to kiss your neck. “Yes, Choso, baby, I want that.” You’ve wanted that for so, so long! So many nights of dreaming about him in your bed have finally led to this. He pulls away, giving you a look dripping with molten lust. “Get on top then,” he whispers. “I wanna see you bounce on my cock.” 

You don’t need to be told twice. He lies back on the couch and keeps comfortable before patting his muscular thighs for you. Softly giggling, you get on top and straddle him before wrapping a hand around his cock and slowly guiding him toward your pussy lips. You glide his head against your slit for a moment, teasing him and earning some luscious whimpers. “Please, baby, don’t tease me,” he begs. “Just put it in.”

You shiver, loving the sound of his pathetic begging. You’re half inclined to keep going just to hear him plea and beg for your pussy, but you’re too horny to do so. So instead, you slowly slip him between your wet, slippery folds. You gasp and brace your hands against his chest, feeling him stretch you. He pauses, searching your face for any sign of pain or discomfort. “I’m okay,” you whisper, giving him a wobbly smile. 

He takes your hips, holding them securely. “You take the reins then,” he says. “Ride me, baby. I’m yours, so take it like you need it.” And so you do. With his big hands gripping your hips, you begin to rock and grind against his cock while your fingers rub your clit. The sensations are indescribable. You can’t help but moan and sob at the pleasure though you have to keep each sound hushed. 

Choso is losing it below you, overwhelmed by the sight of your perfect titties and stomach jiggling with every move you make. “Fuck, baby,” he whispers, his voice strained from the sheer pleasure. “You feel so fuckin’ good on top of me. Does it feel good for you too?” 

Vigorously, you nod, biting your lip so hard that you nearly dra​​w blood. “Yes!” you whimper. “You’re so good, Choso! You feel amazing inside me!” The p​​roud smile that stretches across Choso’s face is almost comical, loving that it’s his cock making you feel this good. For so long, he’s wondered how you’d feel and look fucking him. And now that he finally has it, he’s going to make it last. 

He sits up and holds you flush against him, your titties squishing against his chest and his cock sinking deeper into you. Your jaw goes slack and you have to cover your mouth to keep from wailing out in pleasure. “Keep it down, baby doll,” he chuckles in your ear. “You wouldn’t want your bro to come downstairs and see you gettin’ that pussy filled by his buddy, would you?” 

You don’t answer, too busy riding him like a stolen car and rubbing your clit against his pelvis. He fucks you back, moaning and whimpering into your ear while his cock drives into you again and again, hitting a spot inside of you that turns you into an animal. You grip his shoulders and back, digging your nails into him. Your nails dig into his back so hard that they puncture his skin and leave long, jagged, angry red lines up and down his back muscles. 

If Choso is in any pain, he pretends like he isn’t. Instead, he just keeps fucking you, grinding his hips into yours in one passionate, pleasurable, sweaty dance that quickly sends you over the edge.

“Choso,” you whine. “I’m gonna cum! I-I can’t…” Your voice dies, too lost in the blinding ecstasy. “Bite me,” he demands. His dark eyes stare into yours, begging you. “C’mon, baby, it’s okay. I fuckin’ want it.” 

Though alarmed, the pleasure begins to reach its peak, especially when Choso tells you to lean back and begins to rub your clit​​ in small, fast circles. “Cum for me, Y/N,” he whispers. “Do it. Give it to me.” To muffle your moans, you do as he says and bite his shoulder, sinking your teeth into the skin so hard that you break skin. 

Choso grunts at the pain, but you also feel him throb and grow harder inside you. Could it be possible that he likes that freaky shit? You have no time to wonder as your orgasm washes over you, making you buck and writhe in his arms. He holds you against him, giving you something to grab onto as the mindblowing orgasm finally fades. “Better?” he chuckles.

You blink at him, your vision adjusting, and finally see the bloody bite mark on his shoulder. “No!” you gasp. “Look at your skin! I’m so–” 

“Don’t.” Choso shakes his head, firm and dead serious. “I love that shit. Seein’ you like that was so fuckin’ hot.” Once again, you feel his cock throb inside you and shudder. So he is a freak!

“I can feel that,” you purr. “You’ll need help with that, won’t you?” 

Choso looks so happy that you even volunteered. “Turn around,” he demands, his voice low and intoxicating. With a soft moan, you slip off of him and twist around so your ass is in his face. He gives you another spank before dipping down to lightly run his teeth against the soft, fleshy globes and nibble on them. Ass bites. How did he know you love ass bites?!

His ministrations get your pussy throbbing again, especially when he holds his cock up for ​​you to settle down on. “Sit on it,” he whispers and you do, both of you gasping as his cock sinks into your pussy that is even wetter from your second orgasm. “I’m gonna cum you till I cum, okay?” he breathlessly asks. “Can you handle that?” 

“Yes, sir,” you whimper, the last word slipping out. That makes Choso go completely feral. He doesn’t talk for a while as he fucks you stupid from the back, but he doesn’t have to. The way he grips your shit and nails his hips into your backside makes your pussy talk to him, your walls squeezing and gushing around his thick cock. You have to bite a cushion to keep from wailing like a banshee at the way he’s fucking you from behind, the soft clapping of your ass against his thighs making you crazy. 

He then tugs you toward him so your back is to his front as he continues to fuck you. His lips attach themselves to your neck, sucking harshly at your tender skin. You weakly moan at the feeling, wincing slightly when his teeth bite into your skin a little too hard. You feel a wetness that Choso quickly licks away, peppering you with kisses.

“You’re so perfect,” he groans, his breath tinged with the metallic scent of your blood. “So fuckin’ mine. I wanna cum in this pussy so bad.” 

You can feel it. And you want it. “Do it,” you plea. “Please, Choso, cum in me! I’m so close!” Your hand begins to rub your swollen clit once more, desperate to cum with him.

Luckily, it doesn’t take too long and Choso warns you when it happens. He grips you tight to him and ruts into you like an animal, whining as he does. “Gonna cum!” he pants. “Gonna fuckin’ cum in you! Take it all!” 

His cum erupts inside of you like a warm river flooding your insides. He muffles his moans by pressing his face into your neck, gripping your b​​ody tight to him as if he is afraid you’ll disappear. You cum right after him, triggered by his slutty sounds, and dig your face into the cushion as you moan and sob. Your pussy flutters and squelches around him as you cream around his cock, creating a ring around the base that marks him as yours. Yours. Finally. 

Once your orgasms fade, you share a chaste, exhausted kiss and he gently slips out of you, causing all of his cum to drip down your thighs. Quickly, he grabs a few tissues from the kitchen and cleans you up before tossing them in the trash. Once finished, he lies on his side with you facing him, both of you taking up the couch. “Wow,” he pants, his toned body still soaked in sweat. 

You slowly nod, the gravity of what you just did sinking in. “Yeah,” you chuckle. “You’ll have to visit more often on business trips.” He chuckles at your little joke, but his smile quickly fades. “So…you’re okay with this?” he carefully asks. “With us?” He looks down at you, worry in his soulful eyes. 

You weigh your options for a moment, understanding what is at stake here…but the feeling of his heart pounding against your fingertips sways you to the side of temptation and what could possibly be. “I am if you are,” you murmur, too embarrassed to look up at him. “I mean, of course, we can go slow if you want. I know we just did that, but we were also tipsy and–” 

“Stop,” he interrupts, pressing a finger to your lips. You look up into his eyes and feel like you’re falling. “I want whatever you want, Y/N, and if you’re okay with us being together despite your brother, then I’m down for it. I’ve been wanting this for so long.” And to hear that makes you realize that you’ve made the right choice. With a happy giggle, you lean up to kiss him before cuddling him tight. “I want that too,” you whisper, snuggling into his chest. 

You feel warm, kept, and safe. As he snuggles in close to you, you smile as you drift off to sleep and continue smiling as the night goes on. You stay like that, the two of you, until the morning comes and Choso leaves you to sleep while he gets dressed and goes to the kitchen to whip up the pancakes he promised your brother the night before. 

You awaken on the couch, naked with the sun pouring through the blinds. Immediately, you remember: your meeting! You look at the clock, sighing in relief when you find that it’s only 6 AM. You have time. You won’t be fired! 

 You hear Choso in the kitchen whisking pancake batter and sizzling eggs in a pan. The scent of breakfast cooking coaxes you off of the couch and you grab your rope before slowly walking upstairs. The ache of your body and the muscles that you haven’t used in a minute makes you smile to yourself, loving that this ache is from something other than the gym. 

You’re glad you decided to cover yourself up when you run into your brother standing in the bathroom brushing his teeth in his sweats. “Hey, you,” you greet him. “You’re up early? You got a girl comin’ over or somethin’?” 

He smirks at you, his mouth coated in foam. “Nah, Choso promised me pancakes.” His eyes flick up and down your form. “Why are you up early?” You tap your wrist where an imaginary watch sits. “Meeting, remember? So hurry up with that so I can brush my teeth.” You turn to walk into your bedroom, needing some deodorant and fresh clothes. 

“And cover them hickeys,” your brother adds. You immediately stop, frozen. 

“As happy as I am that you finally bit the bullet and got together with Choso after pinin’ after him for so long, I’m sure your boss would ask questions.” You turn and look at him, finding him smiling knowingly at you from the bathroom. 

“Breakfast is ready!” Choso calls. “Come down if you wanna eat!” 

Your brother laughs at you as he shuts the bathroom door, leaving you standing there in a deer in headlights. Well…at least he isn’t mad. 

THE END. 

#black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my fic shit #my works #black coded reader #jjk smut #choso x black!reader #choso smut #jjk choso #choso x female reader #choso x chubby reader

[captainwans]

FROM WHERE YOU ARE.

— ALEX TURNER

pairing: alex turner x fem! actress! reader

summary: while she didn’t care about the distance between them, alex couldn’t help but feel responsible for her exhaustion from traveling this far, especially when the distance was longer.

warning: mild swearing, matt being a tease, and nothing but sweet rotting fluff, friends to lovers trope!

word count: 3,9k | ( gif not mine! )

arabella series!

masterlist!

…. [Y/N]’S SHOES CLANKED ON THE HARD WOODEN FLOOR, THE SOUND OF HER HEELS ECHOING ACROSS THE HALL AS SHE PACED WITH HER STEPS. Much to her dismay, the actress was late and missed the concert, and to say that she was devastated was an understatement. She spent the last three hours on a train trying to get there, which was something she wouldn’t tell Alex. Knowing him he would’ve lost his mind and attempted to drive her back himself. She received a sweet message from him, reassuring her that it was not a problem at all and that he was just happy that he was going to see her again. Her cheeks flushed at his message and she read it multiple times, his words planted inside her mind like a mantra.

The pair had been inseparable ever since she was cast as the lead woman in their music video, Arabella, not to mention an inspiration behind the song itself. With her oblivious nature, she had no idea whatsoever. But, what better way than to announce this at a Comic-Con panel in front of thousands of people

She remembered being caught off guard by this question, not expecting to get questions regarding other aspects of her life other than Marvel-related questions. She did answer, though, stating that she had no idea with a sheepish look. Her comment made the crowd react, even her cast members gave her weird looks due to the song's popularity. At that moment, she made a mental note to listen to the song right after the event.

[Y/N] was awe-struck, not only by the song but also by how his voice conveyed a range of different vocals. She recalled pondering over some familiarity in his voice, feeling that she had heard his voice somewhere before but couldn't pinpoint exactly where. The lyrics of Arabella made her ears perk up with curiosity, being impressed by the small details that could only be referred to from the movie she shot. She fell in love with the song and his voice. His delicate voice and poetic words were the only things that were blasting through the speakers in her trailer, annoying the rest of her cast members.

“[Y/N], would you please turn it down, some of us have to sleep,” The Black Widow actress pleaded, her tone tinted with annoyance as she slowly entered inside her trailer. She watched [Y/N]’s cheeks redden, muttering a small apology before lowering the volume.

“Sorry, Scar, it won’t happen, again.” she sheepishly said, adjusting her glasses that rested on her delicate features whilst her eyes trailed over her script that was placed into her hands. She watched her friend from the corner of her eyes, feeling her presence behind her.

“Arctic Monkeys? Oh, was that the boyband that wanted you in their music video?” Scarlett asked her, eyes sparkling as her eyes looked at her computer screen. She took a look at the group, eyes lingering longer on the lead vocalist. She chuckled, giving her friend a knowing look. “I see why you’re so hooked, look at him,” she poked her waist, making [Y/N] squirm as her lips emitted a small squeak.

“Scarlett–please, stop!” she whined, slapping her hand away before shifting in her seat to make room for her to sit, which she happily obliged. A tint of dust painted her cheeks, lips curving up unknowingly when the lyrics of one of her favorite songs so far, played in the background.

“But I crumble completely when you cry,” Alex’s voice filled inside her eardrums, making her let out a content sigh as she looked down at the script that she was supposed to memorize. She had been stuck on a line for the past fifteen minutes, and she blamed it on his voice. It was addicting—like a drug and she couldn’t resist.

[Y/N] smiled, putting her papers on the table in front of her before turning her attention to her friend, who was nodding her head to the music, her eyes narrowed and focused. She chuckled as she watched Scarlett make a face, signaling that she liked what she was hearing. “They’re very good. I don’t know why you haven’t said yes.”

She grinned, rubbing the back of her neck before she laid her head on her shoulder. “They’re amazing, Scar. And I said yes. I’m gonna be meeting with them in a week. We’re actually gonna film a few hours away from the set, meaning that I can tell you everything about it.” she chimed, eyes crinkling from smiling.

Scarlett clapped with a bright smile, expressing her support for her. She hugged her best friend, squeezing her tight. “I’m so happy for you. This is so exciting. Alex is gonna lose his mind over your beauty, I mean look at you, girl. Heck–even I would risk it all for you.” she told her with a wink, making [Y/N] burst out in laughter as they leaned into each other.

She cursed at herself, mumbling incoherent words as she was looking for Alex and Miles, holding her phone up to her face whilst she was trying to read the address Alex sent her. She squinted her eyes and blinked a few times to shake away her exhaustion, the never-ending filming and traveling resting on her shoulders. The three-hour ride seemed to be her last straw before she could collapse at any second, but she had her painkillers and a few cups of coffee to keep her up, for a while.

The sound of Alex’s laughter seemed to cease some of her drowsy state and she fastened her pace, her feet leading her to one of the waiting rooms backstage. She scoffed with a chuckle, listening to Miles’ banter and his comment made her roll her eyes. She cleared her throat, bringing her hand to the door and giving it a little push as she made an appearance.

“I heard that, Miles!” [Y/N]’s voice echoed across the room, earning a cheerful laugh from the latter, along with the rest of them as she made an appearance with a playful expression toward the singer, who put his guitar away and dashed toward her with a beaming grin. “Speaking of the devil. Hello, love.”

[Y/N]’s chest vibrated from laughter and sank into his embrace, patting his back. “It’s good to see you, Miles. Sorry, I couldn’t make it to the concert to watch you live, but I watched it on my phone. You guys were incredible, as always.” she gushed, pulling away as she mirrored his grin.

Miles gave her a look of gratitude, kissing her forehead. “It’s alright, [Y/N],” he brushed her off with a gentle squeeze on her bicep. He brought her to his side again, side-hugging her before leading her to the rest of the team. “Please, if we’re speaking about a performance, you killed it in the Winter Soldier.” she heard Jamie say, earning a few nods and chimes at his statement.

Crimson danced across her cheeks, making her move her gaze away from Miles to the others in the room, some lazily spread across the couch and others standing beside the food table. Her smile widened, noticing the rest of the band, and her eyes shamelessly searched for a certain vocalist but were abruptly interrupted by being pulled into another embrace by Jamie, Nick, and Matt, who squeezed her making her let out a choked laugh.

“Oh, I’ve missed you guys so much!”

“Don’t squeeze her to death, lads,” Alex’s voice filled her ears, causing her heart to skip a beat, feeling the rush of blood through her ears. Her muffled giggles were enough to put a soft smile on Alex’s handsome features, watching her pull away from the group before turning her body around to meet him.

[Y/N] let out a content sigh, a gentle smile reaching her features before launching herself into his arms, her arms around his waist as she hid her face onto his chest. She felt exhaustion hit her like a tidal wave, making her feel drowsy, and she closed her eyes for a second to feel his arms around her.

Alex felt his cheeks flush, being self-aware by the looks the others were giving them, but that soon disappeared when she gently squeezed his waist, her hands rubbing his back comfortably. “Hello, gorgeous,” he whispered into her ear, brushing a hand over her hair as he closed his eyes, taking in her scent.

The pair pulled away, both smiling ridiculously at each other, but that moment was shortly interrupted by Miles who made gagging sounds, earning laughs from the others. “Take it somewhere else, love birds. You guys are disgustingly cute, it makes me wanna gag,” he whined, gripping his guitar before taking a seat beside Nick.

[Y/N] scoffed, a frown etched onto her features as she pulled Alex closer to her side. She felt his hands caressing her waist, gently rubbing circles around her skin. “Like you’re the one to talk. You get to have him all by yourself on the stage. Yeah, I’ve seen the videos, Miles.” she sassed back, making Alex burst out in laughter, his chest vibrating.

Miles’ face reddened, making him shake his head with laughter. Nick, who was beside him, was dying of laughter and pushed him to the side. “Touche, love.”

[Y/N] giggled, eyes turning back to Alex, whose eyes were already on her, staring at her lovingly. She bit her lip, eyes darting across his lips before shyly diverting her gaze away. He watched her turning her attention back to the others, having a conversation with Matt and his girlfriend, Breana, who came in a little late and became ecstatic when she saw her presence.

She was sitting at the edge of the couch, her body turned across the others who were comfortably sitting on the other couch while Alex was standing beside her, practically leaning against her, which she didn’t mind at all, enjoying his close presence with his hand playing with the hem of her cardigan.

[Y/N] felt a sudden bursting pain at the back of her skull, searing through her temples making her grimace with a look of discomfort. She clenched her jaw with furrowed eyebrows, eyes focusing on Breana, but as the minutes passed her voice became fainter, along with the rest of the room. As much as she tried to hold it in, her tiredness stole the character from her eyes, leaving them blank and hollow.

“And it was a really important moment for me, you know…” Breana’s voice echoed inside her ears, making her squint her eyes before placing a hand on her temples, feeling her sides throbbing rather aggressively.

“I didn’t know her story took that of a toll on you,” Matt spoke, watching her friend covering a hand on her face, earning a few chuckles. Breana laughed, placing a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry if my stories bore you out, babe, I’ll shut up.” she joked, squeezing her arm making her wince at the spot where she accidentally landed on her arm when filming a scene.

[Y/N] chuckled from the pain, feeling the spot burning. She felt guilt prickling at her chest, making her look up to her friend, giving her an apologetic smile. “You never bore me, Bre,” she told her sheepishly, standing up from her seat to get her bag to get her painkillers. “Sorry…It’s just uh–” she let out a weary sigh, a sound with the heavy weight of exhaustion bubbling up the surface, making her stop talking as she forgot what she was about to say in the first place.

Alex, who had been eying her for a while, was the first one to speak. “Are you alright, love?” he asked with a concerned look, reaching out to her as she watched her halt with her steps. He grunted at the sudden weight of her body falling against him, and his frown deepened when he felt her shallow and ragged breathing. “It’s okay, I’m okay. I just need to sit down, that’s all,” she reassured, leading them both back towards the couch, making Miles and Nick shoot up from their seat to make some room for the duo.

Breana’s eyebrows furrowed with concern and she kneeled in front of her, her warm hands resting on her neck, brushing a few hair strands away from her damp forehead. “[Y/N], babe, do you need some water?” she softly asked, her voice getting smaller, as if she spoke any louder she would break at any second.

Matt stood up from his seat, “I’ll get her some water.”

[Y/N] squeezed her eyes shut, fingers rubbing her tired eyes as the buzzing inside her head filled every crack of her brain, rattling every bone making her let out a shaky exhale. “Yes, I–I, uh…I have some painkillers inside my bag..” she stuttered out, feeling her cheeks flush as she looked at her friend with a sheepish look.

Alex turned in his seat, his eyes searching for her bag. His hand grabbed the hold of her purse, his hands roaming inside to look for her painkillers. Matt returned and opened the lid of the water bottle, giving it to his girlfriend, which she took and looked back at Alex to see him holding a pill.

“I’m sorry, guys. This is embarrassing…” [Y/N] said in a soft tone, her voice turning smaller as she accepted the water from Breana’s hands before turning to Alex and taking the painkiller from his hands. Her hands took hold of the small pill, her hands lingering for a moment before clutching her hand and downing the pill with water. She felt him shift, one of his hands resting on her thigh, rubbing small circles to cease some of her pain.

Nick frowned, standing behind her. “For being under the weather? [Y/N], there’s no need to apologize,” he reassured, patting her shoulders with a comforting smile.

Jamie nodded his head with a thoughtful expression, “Yeah, I mean, your job is no better than us. I can’t imagine filming all day on set and—” he trailed off, but once he looked at Alex’s glare his mouth closed and he cleared his throat, “I’m sorry, [Y/N].”

[Y/N]’s lips curved upwards at his apology and she shook her head with a small smile. “Don’t sweat it.” she gently brushed him off and took a few sips before placing the bottle on the table in front of her. “You’re not wrong though. We’ve been filming intensively these past few weeks and staying up all night with the others to perfect the script. I haven’t really got the time to do anything else outside filming and I missed you guys–” she voiced her thoughts before Matt interjected with one of his cheeky remarks.

“Guys? I think that applies to only one person, and he’s sitting beside you right now.” Matt chimed, his eyes sparkling with a tint of mischief. This earned a slap on his shoulder, and he hissed looking at Breana, who gave him a disapproving look. “Oh, way to ruin the moment, Matthew.”

Alex’s heart stuttered against his chest, feeling blood rushing through his cheeks as he looked at [Y/N] with his lips curving upwards. His smile soon turned into a look of annoyance at the fact that his bandmate interrupted her and he let out a sigh. “Shut up, you dickhead. Let her talk.” he bluntly said, his brown eyes piercing through Matt’s, making him put his hand up in surrender with the same grin etched onto his features.

Alex’s comment made the others burst out in laughter, including [Y/N] who turned around in her seat to look at him, her chest vibrating with laughter, making him join her, her laughter being music to his ears. She grabbed his bicep, giving it a little squeeze before clearing her throat. She wiped a lone tear away from her eyes and chuckled. “Thank you, Al. Wait, what were we talking about again?” she contemplated, closing one eye in deep thought, and making Breana laugh.

Miles, who sat across from the pair, played a soft tune on his guitar before asking her. “Since, we’re talking about your job, where’s your set located in? I know Alex told me you were filming near this area..?”

[Y/N] bit her lip with a nod, internally cursing at how her white lie had come this far and she definitely didn’t want to say that it was three hours, knowing that Alex would lose his mind for traveling this far to get here. She remembered Scarlett teasing her and gushing about her heart eyes towards him, calling her a lovesick puppy.

“Oh, you’re in love, honey. It’s so cute. You’re like a lovesick puppy. But I must say…this look—” Scarlett stopped mid-sentence, gesturing with her hand, making [Y/N] want to roll her eyes. “It looks good on you, [Y/N].”

“Yeah…uh–It’s located in…” she trailed off, mumbling the rest of her sentence in a hushed tone and covered it up with a forced cough.

Miles frowned, leaning his body against his guitar as he moved his head toward her. “What? I didn’t hear what you said there, love.” she gave him a sheepish grin, heat washed over as crimson danced across her cheeks. She felt Alex inch closer, almost feeling his breath against her neck making her breath hitch. She grew hot and cleared her throat, name-dropping the location, which made Miles’ eyes wide.

“Isn’t that three hours away from here?” Nick, Matt, and Breana nodded to confirm his question, making [Y/N] close her mouth, feeling her heartbeat inside her ears. She licked her lips, feeling Alex’s burning gaze on her and she turned around to meet with his confused expression.

Alex looked back and forth from Miles and to [Y/N], his frown deepening. “Three hours? Didn’t you tell me that it was half an hour from here?” He questioned, and her chest prickled at the sound of his voice.

The rest looked at each other, a look of amusement plastered onto their faces as they watched the pair. Matt was leaning into Jamie, who looked at the couple with a grin and Breana could sense another remark coming from her boyfriend and she slapped his arm, giving him a warning look.

[Y/N] gave him a tip-lipped smile, eyes looking anywhere than him. “I did? Oh well..” she admitted, giving him a small shrug, and Alex looked at her like she had grown two heads.

Alex shook his head, his face turning into a deep scowl. His stomach clenched at the fact that she was traveling this long to see him. He could also feel his heart flutter at her commitment, but that soon faded away as his mind went back to her current state. He inched closer, his rough calloused hands grabbed her arm, gently squeezing it. “No, wait. Hold on a second. You’re telling me that you drove three hours to come here, and you’re planning on driving back?”

[Y/N] tilted her head to the side, giving him another shrug. “So?” she replied back, not seeing his point and she gave him a look to elaborate with a hand gesture. This made the others erupt into another pit of laughter, gushing over how adorable [Y/N] was and Matt couldn’t help but crawl over to Alex, making kissing sounds and grabbing his shoulders. “You two are so adorable!”

Alex jerked away from his touch and cursed at him, his annoyance bubbling up through the surface. He stood up from the couch, leading [Y/N] with him as they walked over to the food table. “Can’t even get a fucking break..” he mumbled under his breath, but enough for her to hear and she stifled back a laugh.

Her gaze diverted away from the others toward Alex, watching him leaning against the table as he gave his bandmate a look of disdain. Her eyes softened, feeling her chest tighten as her mind went back to the conversation a few moments ago. She crossed her arms like two swords, inching closer to him. “It’s really not a big deal, Al. We planned this, remember? It was the only day that fit our schedule.” she reminded him with a nudge on his hip, earning a small smile from the singer.

Alex looked at her, his eyes lingering on her face as he memorized every detail. He clenched his jaw, bringing a hand over his mouth before voicing his thoughts. “I know, I just…don’t want it to go over at the expense of your health. You could’ve just told me that you weren’t feeling well, and I would’ve understood that, darling.” he shared, his expression turning into a concerned look.

[Y/N]’s eyes danced, mirroring the swarm of butterflies inside her stomach as she looked at him with a fond expression. She hummed with a simper. “I know.” she sheepishly replied with a nod, hiding her hands inside her oversized cardigan and looking up at him. What she was going to do next even surprised her and she wondered where she got that confidence from. “But…I wanted to see you. Traveling for me is not a problem, heck–I could fly out here just to see you, even if it’s for a few minutes.” she expressed, her brave moment instantly disappearing as she realized what she just said out loud, leaving her a complete stuttering mess.

Alex caught his breath at her words, his brain trying to process what just came out of her delicate lips that he craved so for a taste. His lips curved upwards unknowingly, his eyes tinted with slight amusement at her stuttering mess. “Shit, did I just say that out loud?” he bit his lip with a nod, a smirk etched onto his features as he came closer.

“Yeah, and I’m so glad that you said it.” [Y/N]’s smile widened, inching closer to reach out, removing a few hair strands away from his face. Her hand lightly brushed his jaw, fingers lingering on his skin, slowly moving down to his lips.

Alex closed his eyes for a second, melting at her soft and gentle touch. His hand hovered over hers, placing her hand on his chest and intertwined their hands. Before he could let out a word, his bandmates interrupted yet another sweet moment of the pair, and that seemed to hit the last nerve for Alex. A chorus of “aww” echoed across the room and the pair looked at them, noticing they had an audience.

Breana gave her friend an apologetic look before standing up and taking a hold of Matt’s shirt to drag him out of Alex’s sight, but the lead vocalist was faster and he bolted towards him, making Matt let out a loud cackle as he chased him out of the room, leaving the rest with another session of laughter. “Get back here, you little shit!”

#captainwans navigation #masterlist #fanfic #alex turner x you #alex turner x oc #alex turner angst #alex turner fluff #alex turner x reader #alex turner imagines #alex turner one shot #alex turner fic #alex turner imagine #alex turner fanfic #alex turner #artic monkeys masterlist #artic monkeys imagines

[youryurigoddess]

The stuff dreams are made of, or the interesting case of Anthony J. Crowley

We’ve talked a bit about Crowley’s trauma and his way of reclaiming the narrative in the past, but it’s time for some deep dive into the story he’s trying to tell. A story that meanders through the fabric of time and space, slightly changing with the human fashion trends, but slowly and surely bringing the demon closer to a certain angel like the red thread of fate.

1793

Some stories start in a garden, some even Before the Beginning, but this one starts with an Arrangement. Or, to be precise, a little bit after that.

See, most of the iterations of Crowley we saw throughout the history until then didn’t delve too deep into human cultural tropes. If anything, they were the inspirations behind more or less prominent biblical figures, maybe some nameless villains matching his demonic provenance and role assigned to him by his employers.

But in the hustle and bustle of the revolutionary Paris, Crowley emerges as a prototype of the Scarlet Pimpernel — a chivalrous Englishman who rescues aristocrats before they are sent to the guillotine. Stan Lee famously called him “the first character who could be called a superhero”.

Sir Percy Blakeney, the main character of the novel and the West End play under the same title, leads a double life. Appearing as nothing more than a wealthy fop, in reality he’s a formidable swordsman, a quick-thinking master of disguise and an escape artist. Even his own wife, Marguerite, has no idea.

Unfortunately Marguerite is being blackmailed with her brother’s life to find and expose the wanted Pimpernel. She regrets betraying her husband the moment she's forced to do it and spends the rest of the plot working to save him. She does, they make up, and return together to England.

In Aziraphale and Crowley’s case there was just a short stop for crêpes. But what seems to be an inspiration of a specific scene might as well come up later in the wider perspective of the show, so keep in mind those fragments of the musical’s libretto:

We all are caught in the middle

of one long treacherous riddle.

Can I trust you?

Should you trust me too?...

We shamble on through this hell

taking on more secrets to sell

'til there comes a day

when we sell our souls away.

We seek him here, we seek him there,

Those Frenchies seek him everywhere!

Is he in heaven? Is he in hell?

Where is that damn elusive Pimpernel!

1941

The London Blitz is when we see a full-fledged iteration of the superhero Crowley performing dashing and heroic deeds under the literal cover of darkness and air bomb smoke. In a bespoke double-breasted suit and a fedora — still free from the unfortunate modern connotations from the internet culture — he’s clearly channeling Humphrey Bogart as a private investigator Sam Spade in The Maltese Falcon (1941) now.

It all starts with a woman and a simple plan gone wrong: Spade’s partner is shot dead, just like the man he was supposed to be tailing upon the request of a mysterious Miss Wonderly. And when a very soft-looking, sweet-scented man named Joel Cairo appears in his office willing to pay a hefty price for a "black figure of a bird", Spade starts not only a new job, but also his own quest for truth.

On the surface, The Maltese Falcon ends happily: the killer gets caught, and the hero winds up with the Falcon. But Spade's victory is completely hollow. The Falcon itself, originally meant as a symbol of loyalty, transforms into a symbol of a corrupting, futile, and self-destructive greed that makes people betray their own loyalties.

The treasure is just a worthless forgery and he’s fallen in love with the criminal — one of the first femmes fatales on screen. Despite his feelings for her and a kiss, Spade gives her up and submits the statuette as evidence, describing it as "the stuff that dreams are made of".

Remember the eagle lectern? The eagle was believed to be flying highest in the sky and therefore closest to heaven, symbolizing the carrying of the word of God to the four corners of the world. Aziraphale in the 1941 church scene is the closest to Heaven we’ve seen him on Earth. Just look at him: dressed in a smart, well-fitted coat with peaked lapels, symbolizing his Heavenly allegiance, and doing good this time not as a work assignment, but of his own accord. Being the closest to Heaven means the furthest and most unattainable for a demon like Crowley.

The Maltese Falcon is a metaphor for unattainability — things out of reach to desire and fight for, although never truly possess. It’s “the stuff that dreams are made of”. But Crowley secured the original — made of gold and encrusted with jewels, but hiding its real value under black enamel — eerily reminiscent of the demon himself and the unending kindness behind his inappropriately tight black clothing.

Quoting Michael Ralph — the production mastermind behind Good Omens — from the S01E04 “Saturday Morning Funtime” DVD commentary, “We wanted to tip our hat to the Maltese Falcon as being a precious object that no-one thought really exists but it does”. So we can safely assume that Crowley can and will achieve his dream in the future.

1967

Do you know what else happens in 1941 in Scotland? Ian Fleming, a British naval intelligence agent, meets with the famous occultist Aleister Crowley and asks him to lead the interrogation of newly imprisoned Rudolf Hess — a leading member of the Nazi Party in Nazi Germany appointed Deputy Führer — given the two men’s shared enthusiasm for the occult.

This meeting has a significant impact on Fleming’s work as a writer; Aleister Crowley becomes the inspiration for his first villain Le Chiffre and creates a blueprint for most of the James Bond’s franchise ever since 1953, the publication date of the novel Casino Royale.

Meanwhile our Anthony J. Crowley believes in himself not being the villain he’s usually and sometimes forcefully painted as, but a superhero in disguise. The character of James Bond in particular inspires him so much that he buys petrol to get the limited You Only Live Twice (1967) window decals for his Bentley, dons his own tactical turtleneck, and sets off to organize a heist like no other. Sean Connery style.

Like a typical superhero, Crowley’s once again both saved and betrayed by his love interest. Aziraphale leaves him with a thermos of Holy Water, a faint smile, and a hope that they’ll soon match their speeds to meet halfway at the Ritz. The cancelled heist is not an ending, but a promise of a new beginning. And the fact that UK decriminalizes homosexual acts in the very same year is more than telling in this regard.

2019

An exceptional situation calls for exceptional solutions, and what’s more important than the impending Apocalypse? Demon Crowley does his best to put the arsenal of his 20th century film inspirations to good use.

"Ask yourself, do you feel lucky?" Crowley drawls, clearly imitating (although slightly misquoting) the titular Dirty Harry (1971). He’s hoping to be menacing and making the point of being the one on the right side of the law and history.

Some situations require more than quoting action heroes is not everything though. He knows what to do:

A jeep was heading purposefully towards the gate, and it looked as though it was crowded with people who were about to shout questions and fire guns and not worry about which order they did this in.

[Crowley] brightened up. This was more what you might call his area of competence.

He took his hands out of his pockets and he raised them like Bruce Lee and then he smiled like Lee Van Cleef.

'Ah,' he said, 'here comes transport.'

When in doubt, Crowley acts. He transforms into a combination of a stoic martial arts phenomenon and a sardonic, menacing character. His smile alone — even on Aziraphale’s angelic face, as seen in one of the final cut scenes — seems to be enough to ward off evil spirits, angels, and humans alike.

But we all know that even as breathtaking performances as those can’t protect anyone from the cogs of the Heavenly machine and its plans.

2023

No wonder that Crowley’s tactical turtleneck comes back in style after mere four years of retirement with a self-introduction “Former Demon, hated by Heaven, loathed by Hell. How will our hero cope?”. Something has changed during this time; he’s more mature now, not playing pretend by hiding behind the usual veneer of sarcasm and movie quotes anymore. Finally comfortable with the fact that this is his own story and there’s no need to become anyone else than himself.

The bookshop fire and the Heavenly trial still seem to haunt the demon in a way that makes him realize what all humans know: that every hero is his own biggest enemy. His ultimate dream might effortlessly change into his greatest nightmare any moment now, and the only thing he can do about it is hover in a two-minute distance from the epicenter of his feelings. But Crowley has no time to work on it when a new mission appears, to protect his angel from Gabriel and the combined powers of Heaven and Hell. Even if this — rather ostentatiously — is the last thing he wants to think about at the moment.

Crowley tries to plan ahead, while his story slowly warps into a different genre due to Aziraphale’s interruptions. He eventually changes back into his usual Henley shirt after agreeing to swap places and guarding the bookshop while the angel is off to Edinburgh, collecting more clues. Did he finish his personal quest off-screen? Did he just give up on it in the whirlwind of matchmaking shenanigans? Remains to be seen.

In the S2 finale our master of disguise in yet another turtleneck proves that he can successfully infiltrate even the universe’s back office. We don’t know where he drives off in the end, but one thing is certain — he’s got a plan. And a world (and his dream) to save, like a superhero he is.

#a turtleneck kind of day #crowley is a superhero #and a master spy #with a plan #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #go2 meta #ineffable husbands #crowley #turtleneck crowley #yuri is doing her thing

[cevansbrat0007]

The Lonely Hearts Club: Part Two

Summary: Full Story! Breaking up with Andrew Barber is hard to do. You of all people should know, considering you just tried. Now what? Read Part One.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Angst, Discussions of Break-ups, Fun with Exes, Jealousy, Andy Being a Menace, Confident Reader, Eventual Smut, Cursing, Expect Additional Future Warnings, Minors DNI

A/N: Dedicated to @atkissoflife, @that-one-anxious-mango, and @piscesmermaidprincess. This multi-part fic features a combination of requests from the likes of @writer84, @lexivass, @moejdaw, and several others. It is also, part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

___

February 15th - 12:25am - Los Angeles, CA

Wow. Just...wow.

You stare down at your phone as you wait for the bartender to bring you your check. While you had initially been prepared for Andy to be upset over your note, as well as your pretty abrupt departure, you certainly hadn't expected this.

If anything, he seemed almost...unbothered. By all of it. Granted, it was sometimes hard to gauge a person's tone via text. But you'd also been in a relationship with the man for the better part of six freaking months! At this point, one could argue that you were practically fluent in Andrew Barber and all of his fucking moods.

The guy was up to something, without a doubt. Which meant that you were now officially on high alert. Because your man - your ex - had never been the type to play fair.

Especially where you were concerned. You should've known that it was gonna take a hell of a lot more than a handwritten letter and a box of artisanal muffins to knock some sense into his stubborn ass.

"Argh! You are such a fucking ogre, Andrew!" You groan, burying your face in your hands. "Why can't you ever make things easy?"

The next time you look up it's to see the bartender returning with your credit card. She goes to hand it over, only for you to interrupt her mid-sentence.

What was her name again? You could've sworn it started with a "D".

"Sorry, I know I said I was ready to close out. But since men are stupid, I think I'm gonna need another margarita. Quite possibly two."

Delta gives you a sympathetic nod before pocketing your card once more. "You got it, sweetie. Still want sugar instead of salt?"

"Yes, please." You mumble, reminding yourself that it was okay to feel annoyed. Because you were. This was supposed to be your time, damn it. You deserved to take some space for yourself!

Even if it meant sitting alone at a hotel bar, missing the one person you loved more than anything, the day after motherfucking Valentine's Day. Cheers, bitches.

___

Two Weeks Later – Somewhere in Downtown Boston

Andrew Barber stares blankly at his computer screen, mindlessly tapping his index finger against his temple as a fresh wave of anger courses through his veins. 

He’d been so good the last two weeks. So patient and understanding. He’d given you your space, just like you’d asked. Never intruding with the exception of the text he shot off that night.

Even when he’d come across your latest Instagram post from a few days ago showing off your apparent date with another man. Some pretentious looking fucker who went by Russell Cromwell. You two had looked real cozy while sharing a plate full of Birria tacos. And then you’d posed outside of the restaurant with your arms wrapped around his waist. 

But the real kicker had been the last photo in the carousel. The one where you’d kissed him on the cheek – when you’d done the “knee thing” that actresses used to do in those old black and white movies you loved to watch so much.

Oh yeah. The two of you would be having a discussion about that one real soon. His wayward Baby Girl could count on that shit. 

Honestly, you had no idea how hard falling back had been for him. It had been a real struggle. Because at his core, Andrew Barber was a man of action. He was well-known for his cunning and mental prowess. This was a man who had graduated at the top of his class, who had then gone on to become the youngest District Attorney in the city of Boston’s history. 

And in times of crisis, he was someone you could count on to remain calm and collected while you worked towards a solution. Nothing could shake him, save for the trial and media circus that had briefly surrounded his late son. 

After that particular tragedy, Andy had resigned himself to being alone. Forever. He often tried to convince himself that he preferred it that way. Andrew Barber didn’t do love. Not after what happened with his ex-wife, Laurie. He was better off living a life of no commitment. 

Even if it meant a lot of lonely nights filled with a seemingly endless revolving door of meaningless one-night stands. 

And then he’d met you. 

Yes, you.

The woman who had somehow, against all odds, brought magic back into his life. Your laugh, your smile, your very presence – it colored his whole goddamn world. He told you that all of the time, and yet it was almost as if you didn’t believe him.

At first, he was convinced that you were too good to be true. Although he’d been quickly dispelled of that notion when you’d had the balls to walk out on him during your very first date. It’s quite possible that he’d fallen for you right then – because you were the type of woman who knew her worth.

By then, Andy had become convinced that you were a gift from the universe. The way he saw it, after everything he’d been through, he was owed you. You were the woman of his dreams – his very salvation – all wrapped up in a curvy little package. And when you ran that night, it called to the primal part of him that felt compelled to give chase. 

Just like now.

But what you had yet to understand was that, once a man like Andrew Barber had deemed you his forever, there was no going back. There was no letting you go. No means of escape.

At most, he’d been granted you a temporary reprieve. You both needed time to assess the situation, survey the damage, and then calculate your next move. 

And sweetness, you’d already played your hand when you’d left that little note skipped town under the pretense of taking a fucking business trip.

Fine. Now it was on him. And while you still held most of the cards, that certainly didn’t mean that Andrew Barber was walking around without an ace or two in his back pocket. And you had better believe that he was more than ready to play his own. 

But first…he needed some fucking coffee. And lucky for him, he knew just where he could find the perfect cup – shot of chocolate, dash of cinnamon, hold the whip. 

___

Forty Minutes Later – Monarch Media Group (20 Minutes Outside Downtown Boston)

You lean back in your chair and rub your tired eyes. For the life of you, you simply couldn’t seem to focus today. Or any other day for the matter.

Even though it had been almost a week since you’d returned from your trip to L.A., you still felt just as conflicted about things with Andrew Barber as you did before you’d left. And not only that, but you also found yourself feeling on edge about the entire situation.

Because after your brief text exchange the morning of February 15th, he’d left you alone. The most impatient man you’d ever encountered this side of Boston had actually found it within himself to respect your wishes. 

No calls. No texts. No emails. Not even so much as a fucking smoke signal.

And while part of you was pleased with that particular development, there was no denying the fact that you missed your Big Man. 

You could be woman enough to admit it. You missed the hell out the handsome, grumpy-faced district attorney who, up until recently, had been a major mainstay in your life. But after some serious soul searching and a generous amount of tequila, you’d come to the conclusion that it was important for you to get your mind right before moving forward with anything.

You owed it to yourself to figure out who you were outside of your relationship with Andy – needed it even. Because that man was a force to be reckoned with. He could be so dominant sometimes, his personality so completely all-consuming that it was easy to lose yourself in him. 

To allow yourself to become so entirely eclipsed by his brilliant shadow. Which is something that could absolutely happen the moment you stopped paying attention to your own wants, and needs, and desires.

And if that ever were to happen, part of you wondered whether or not you would be able to find your way back. Honestly, you had no idea.

Because after all of this, if you chose to be with him…it would mean that you were all-in. There was no other option with him.

That beautifully stubborn man didn’t have a lower setting.   

However, the last thing you’d ever expected was for Mr. Andrew “My Way or the Highway” Barber to go quietly into that good night. Well, suppose you shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Because if anything he could very well be planning–

Your inner musings are interrupted by Anya, your favorite receptionist at Monarch Media Group. Granted, she was also the only receptionist at the company you’d worked for over the last several years, but that was neither here nor there.

Anya gives you a knowing look before taking a seat on the edge of your desk. “Hi, friend.” She lightly pokes your shoulder. “How ya doin?”

“I’m okay.” You blow out a breath and then decide to exit out of your Outlook. “What’s up?”

“Oh…nothing much.” You watch as your friend and coworker helps herself to a piece of chocolate sitting in a nearby dish. 

“Okay.”

“I just stopped by to tell you that your coffee has arrived.” She dutifully unwraps it before popping it in her mouth.

“What?”

You hadn’t ordered any coffee. You didn’t usually even drink the stuff this late in the day. Unless…

“Yep. And just so happens, it was hand-delivered by the handsomest door-dasher I ever did see.” Anya pokes your shoulder again. “I would’ve accepted it on your behalf, but the guy insists on giving it to you himself. Probably angling for a tip if you ask me.” She throws you a conspiratorial wink for good measure.

Speak of the devil. Hello, Mr. Andrew “Check Out My Shit Timing” Barber.

“Ugh.” You bury your head in your hands to muffle your cry of frustration. “Can you please just tell him I’m not here?”

“I’m afraid I already let that cat out of the bag. But by the look on your face and the way you’re rocking back and forth like a human pinball, I take it I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No!” 

“Did you and Andy like…break up…or something?” Anya pauses as she reaches for another piece of candy, her hand hovering in mid-air.

No, Anya. I always feel like jumping out the nearest window. I’m fucking squirrley like that.

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” You wail. “It’s just…it’s just really fucking complicated, okay?” 

“Gotcha. So…about the coffee…” 

“I’m going. I’m going.” You stand up in a huff, wishing you knew where you put the ponytail holder that had been on your wrist just this morning. “But if he pisses me off, I’m dumping that shit on his shoes. Hot or not. I do not care.”

“Okay, but if it comes to that can you please try to do it off company property? I’m all for you handling your business, but I’m also thinking about all the paperwork I’m gonna have to do if you accidentally injure one of the city’s hottest attorneys.”

“Fuck you.” You grumble as you stalk towards the front of the office to confront the annoying asshole who also happened to be the love of your life. 

“What can I say? I’m a selfish bitch.” She chirps, blowing you a kiss.

“Your words not mine. And stay the hell out of my chocolate, you mooch!” You call out as you turn the corner, fully intending to give the Boston D.A. a piece of your mind before you politely, and very firmly, shoved him out the door. 

Because if that man thought that he could just waltz right into your place of business and act like he owned everything and everyone, then he was sorely mistaken. You were going to prove to him, and whoever the hell’s job it was to oversee this whole godforsaken cosmos, that you knew how to stand your ground.  

The sight of him standing right there in the lobby is easily enough to temporarily rob you of all reasonable thought. His back is to you, giving you the brief opportunity to give him a thorough once-over. His tailored white dress shirt is rolled up at the sleeves, exposing his brawny forearms. But what really draws your attention are his slate gray slacks, which only serves to highlight his perfectly sculpted backside. 

He looked good. Nobody deserved to look that damned good, least of all your ex-boyfriend. 

Wait. Is that – is that what he was now? Is…is that how all of this worked? Fuck! 

You note the lack of tension in his broad shoulders. All things considered, he seemed pretty relaxed. But the real question was…how long could it be expected to last?

Andy picks that moment to turn around, his bright blue eyes locking with your own as an eager grin slowly spreads its way across his handsome features. You take a steadying breath and choose to ignore it. 

“Andrew.” You exhale, trying your best to appear unaffected by his presence. It was a lie, of course. But if you managed to keep this unexpected interaction short and sweet, you just might be able to pull it off. “Wh–what are you doing here?”

“Hi.” He cocks his head to the side as he drinks you in, almost as if he’s amused by your disgruntled demeanor.

“Hello.” You cross your arms over your chest, wishing that you had chosen to wear a different sweater today. Andy loved you in this color, especially because of how it paired with your particular skin tone. 

“Happy Wednesday, baby.” 

God, he really needed to lose that stupid smile. Otherwise, how on earth were you supposed to maintain your composure? 

“Sure.”

“Brought you something.” Andy holds out one of the cups of coffee he’s carrying. “Figured you might be able to use a little pick-me-up.” 

“Thanks, but I’m good.” You tell him with a shake of your head. 

“What? Since when?” He rears back before offering up a playful pout. “We always get coffee together on Wednesdays. It’s our thing…our little afternoon delight.” This time you’re treated to a wink.

“Shh!” You hiss, bridging the distance between your bodies to slap a hand across his mouth. “Don’t say that!” 

The last thing you needed was someone to overhear that and think you two used to sneak away sometimes in the afternoon to…to well…you know. Some of the people you worked with possessed very vivid imaginations.

And besides, that whole afternoon delight business had only happened once or twice. Okay, quite possibly four and a half times – and then one more after that. 

Amusement sparkles in his gaze as he stares you down. And then you feel the faint flick of his tongue brush across your palm. When you don’t react he does it again, this time following it up with an exaggerated groan. 

You immediately jerk your hand away as if you’ve just been burned. Knowing that things were only bound to get worse, you snatch one of the coffees before grabbing his arm and dragging him outside and into the unseasonably warm weather. 

Thank goodness for small favors.

The smell of spring was definitely in the air these days, but all you can focus on is the sound of Andy’s laughter trailing behind you. Frankly, it’s enough to set your teeth on edge. Even still, he allows you to lead him down the street. At some point there’s a slight shift that results in your relinquishing his arm so that he can lace his fingers through yours.   

But you'll allow it if it means that he’ll behave for as long as it takes to make it to your destination. Which just so happens to be an empty bench located at the edge of a nearby park.

To his credit, the attractive buttface at your side doesn’t say anything during your impromptu power walk, but he also doesn’t need to. Because after two long weeks without you, the man was probably venturing into serious touch-starved territory. 

You knew it. And so did he. So part of you didn’t see the harm in giving him this one, small thing.  

Relief fills you when you finally reach the bench. Of course Andy sits first before pulling you down with him – but thankfully not onto his lap. Although you’re positive that the thought was there.

Eventually he lets go of your hand. Unsure of what else to do, you finally take a sip of your coffee. The rich, slightly bitter flavor of chocolate and mocha bursts onto your tongue, followed immediately by a quick hint of cinnamon.

Mm. A perfect cup.

“I’ve missed you, baby girl.” Andy’s large, lightly calloused hand cups your face – the roughened pad of his thumb caressing the curve of your cheek. “It hasn’t been a very fun couple of weeks.”

“I know.” You whisper as you lean into his touch and your eyes flutter closed. Perhaps you were just as starved for affection as he was. “I’m sorry.”

“Did you miss me?” His tone is gruff, but there’s no mistaking the emotion behind his words. Or the pain in his eyes for that matter. 

“I did, Andy.” So much.

“But you still left. Tried to break up with me before hopping on a plane and running off all the way to L.A. to share some chips and queso with good ol’ Rusty.” Your eyes fly open as Andy’s hand drops away. “Or did I read that wrong?” 

How the fuck had he known where you where? You hadn’t included anything about your intended destination in your letter…

“I saw it on your Instagram, in case you were wondering. Was actually able to use that stupid account you set up for me after all.” His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he narrows his gaze, trying to read your expression. “Couldn’t really get much else, although I enjoyed those pics of you at the beach.”

“It was a work trip.” You remind him, suddenly feeling defensive. “And Russell is an old friend, nothing more.”

“Hm.” Andy quirks an annoyed brow. “Are we talking about the kind of friend who also  accompanies you to the beach so you can show off your brand new bikini? Not that I’m complaining any about that gorgeous, sunkissed glow you’ve got going on, princess.” 

His big body is certainly tense, but there’s no ignoring the feral gleam in his eyes. Almost as if he’s dying to undress you and spend the next several hours checking you for tan lines. 

And he would, too. It’s not like it would be the first time. 

“I went alone. Russell stayed behind for that one.” You roll your eyes at the sight of his nostrils flaring. “Jesus Christ, dude! I know you may not believe that I’m a big girl, but I am. And if I wanna go hang out at the beach by myself, then that’s exactly what I’m gonna do!”

Which was exactly what the fuck you’d done. And it had been positively marvelous. 

“Fine.” He grunts, raising his palm towards the heavens. “God forgive me for having the sense to worry about my girl, especially since the last time I checked, she still couldn’t swim for shit.”

“Whatever, Andrew. This girl does whatever the hell she wants now, so you had better get used to it.” Your mouth is set in a thin, firm line while you silently dare him to disagree.

“I’m not quite sure how that’s different from any other day with you, but alright.” Andy tries to calm himself by playing with a stray curl that’s fallen free from your bun. “You’re still mine, sweetness. Even when you insist on being a brat. Or did you somehow forget that part?”

You swat at his hand instead of responding, hating that steady feeling of warmth that was currently pooling in your belly. 

“Did you?”

You make a show of ignoring him in favor of enjoying what was left of your coffee.

“You know, they say that sometimes silence speaks louder than words, baby girl.” You find yourself resisting the urge to clench your thighs together at the sound of the dark chuckle that rumbles through his chest. “It’s alright, though. Guess I’ll just have to remind you again once we get past this little wall you’re trying to put up between us.”

He gifts you with a flash of his pearly white teeth. Andrew Barber was the type of man who would only let you get away with so much before he put his foot down. And you would do well to remember that. 

“Pretty sure you meant to say “actions”, jackass.” Apparently he finds your acerbic wit funny as well.

“Eh, I’ve heard it both ways.” Andy shrugs before going back to toying with your curls. “But I think you should know that I’m not very happy with you, baby. And I’m trying to be patient here, but it’s kinda difficult when I can’t even get you to talk to me.”

“I was going to call you…” That wasn’t a lie. You had just been trying to drum up the mental fortitude you knew it would take to pick up the phone and actually dial his number. Sometimes, dealing with Andrew Barber could require some serious patience. 

“Were you now?” He doesn’t believe you. You can hear it in his voice.

“I was.”

“Okay, then have dinner with me tonight.” He releases your curl, watching the way it bounces as it springs free.

“Andy.” You let out an exhausted sigh.

“Meet me at my place. I’ll swing by Imperial Wok and pick up a few of your favorites so we can eat. And then we can talk in a quiet, private setting without any interruptions. How does that sound, princess?”

“Wonderful.” The word slips out before you can catch it. “But I–I can’t.”

Andrew Barber’s excited smile dies on his lips the moment that phrase reaches his ears and registers in his brain. As much as you hated to admit it, being alone with this man wasn’t a very good idea right now – especially behind closed doors.

Because while you’d never seen the man in court, you’d definitely heard plenty of stories about his ruthlessness. And you knew firsthand just how persistent he could be when he was determined to get his way. 

When Andy wanted something, he didn’t stop until he got it. Not only was he relentless, but he also wasn’t above using every tool at his disposal – including sex – if it meant having you back in his life. It wouldn’t matter all that much to him how it came about.

The same way he wouldn’t care if whether or not your desired reconciliation only happened because he’d lured you into his bed before fucking you back into submission. 

“The fu–why the hell not?” He growls, his hand grips the arm of the wooden bench so hard his knuckles go white.

“Because I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” The pronounced tick in his jaw makes it clear that he’s beyond frustrated by your refusal. 

Unfortunately, that was too damned bad! By the time this was all said and done, your handsome ogre was going to have mastered the art of having some goddamned patience. At least you hoped that would be the case…

“Both.” You offer your Big Man a small apologetic smile as you rise from your seat. “Let’s plan for sometime next week. Maybe we can shoot for Monday. I’ll, uh, send you a text or something and we can find a place to meet. But I really need to get back to work now.”

Andy stares at you for what feels like a full minute as his impressive brain works overtime to figure out his next move. And then he stands up before taking your empty cup and discarding them both in a nearby trash bin.

“Alright.” He mutters with a nod in your direction. “I guess I’ll just have to wait for your message then. Now, let’s get you back to your office.” A lump forms in your throat when he wraps a muscled arm around your shoulders as you two begin walking back the way you came. 

Fuck, you really hated this shit. But if this relationship was ever going to have a chance of working, you had to continue standing your ground. Even though it hurt like hell.

“I, um...I know you said that we probably won’t be able to sit down and talk until next week. And I suppose I can understand where you’re coming from with that, but while I have you now…” He lightly coughs into his elbow.

You glance up at your hotshot attorney, trying to figure out where he was going with this so that you could potentially cut him off at the pass.

“I at least wanted to say “thank you” in person for still agreeing to help Lydia with the charity gala this Saturday. I’m sure that it wasn’t an easy decision for you, especially given how things have been between us lately. But I really do appreciate it. And, frankly, I’m sure the kids at St. Augustine’s do too.” 

You feel the blood drain from your face as the reminder of this weekend’s event all-but smacks in the face. “Shit!” You hiss, pulling away from Andy as you reach your building. “It’s this Saturday? Are you sure?”

 “I am.” He confirms, his eyes filled with surprise. “I just spoke with Lydia yesterday when I–”

“Fuck!” You exclaim as your hands fly to your hips, uncaring that you just interrupted whatever it was he was about to say. 

In all of the chaos, you’d completely forgotten that you had agreed to help the wife of one of Andy’s colleagues with her annual charity ball. Starting by arriving at the hotel early Saturday morning to aid in the event setup, before heading up to your room to get ready for the evening's festivities.

A room that had been booked during a time when you and Andy were on much better terms.     

“She did mention that she sent all of the volunteers an email a couple days ago with a list of instructions. Maybe it got buried in your inbox, baby.” He rests his hands on your biceps, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “But she is definitely expecting you and I’m afraid it’s probably too late for you to back out at this point.”

Deep down you knew he was right. And quite honestly, you wouldn’t even dream of doing something like this close to the actual date of the gala. But there was still the issue of having to share a hotel room with your ex.

Closing your eyes, you force yourself to take a deep breath. “I–I wouldn’t do that. I’m not that big of an asshole. I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to share a room…” You trail off, hoping that he would at least be somewhat understanding of your current plight.

“Ahh.” You can see the moment when realization finally dawns. “Right. Almost forgot about that.”

No, he actually hadn’t. But since Andy didn’t feel as though there was any real need for you to know that, he was going to keep that particular tidbit to himself. Even he was capable of showing some restraint every now and again.   

“Like I said…” You find yourself anxiously bouncing on your toes. “I don’t think –”

“I get it, sweetheart.” 

Wait. He did? Just like that?

“You do?”

“I do.” His words are accompanied by a lopsided grin. 

He didn’t. But then again, you didn’t need to know that either.

Andy’s hands leave your arms so that he can tenderly cup the sides of your face instead. “You just leave it all to me, baby girl. I’ll call the hotel and change the reservations.”

“You will?” You place your smaller hands overtop of his own. “You…you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” Andy leans down to press a sweet kiss to your forehead. “And I promise to be on my best behavior Saturday night.” He gives you another kiss, which you allow. “If you want, I’ll even send over the updated confirmation info.” 

“Thank you.” You murmur, wishing that you could give-in just a little more and offer up your lips for a kiss. A real one this time. 

But you couldn’t afford to do that. Not even when Mr. Andrew “Give Me A Gold Star For Being Helpful” Barber was acting sweet. That would only throw everything off balance all over again. 

Andy’s heated gaze drops to your mouth before he slowly pulls away. “Don’t work too hard, okay?” His husky voice sends one last tiny flutter through your belly. 

“Same goes for you.” You tell him as you begin to head into the building.

“Goodbye, baby girl.” 

“Goodbye, Andrew. See you Saturday.” 

He waits until you’re safely inside and out of sight before turning on his heel and proceeding in the direction of his car. Oh, you’d be seeing him on Saturday alright. And he would be on his best behavior – depending on just how much patience he could muster. 

You two would be sorting this shit out then, whether you liked it or not. When it was over, you’d both spend the rest of the weekend making up for lost time. And Andrew was going to do everything in his power to ensure you enjoyed every fucking second of it. Just like he planned to enjoy getting reacquainted with that delicate sweetness between those luscious thighs. But first…

He needed to go make a call.

END

*Part Three Coming Soon...*

___

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[guardianspirits13]

Ok now for a list of things that I'm kind of iffy about or wish they had kept from the books. It's worth noting that I can't think of a single show exclusive scene they added that I did not like, and most of the changes were integrated flawlessly.

Starting out, the pacing. I'm hoping this gets better with time, especially given that the second episode has much more time to breathe. The whole first episode felt a little cramped, and some of the exposition felt a bit... exposition-y. I don' t think there is much they could have done to get around this though so I'm not gonna dwell on it.

As a fan of the series, I love how they introduced the structure and function of the PJO world with the intro, but I think the jump from "Percy sees things" to "everything is all real" felt a bit abrupt. I am curious what first time fans think about this, and again the first episode covers a lot more ground page-wise than ep 2.

Manchild Gabe... I am not sure how I feel about this. In the books he seemed downright threatening and even with Percy's 12yo bravado, he was still an intimidating figure. His bickering with Sally seemed more like your typical dysfunctional relationship than a power imbalance... both can be harmful in their own way, but I'm still undecided on how much giving Sally a bit more agency in her relationship with him effects the larger story. The whole "not all monsters look like monsters" thing works well in the books with Gabe, but I guess they were redirecting it to foreshadow Luke's betrayal? I'm not sure.

...which brings me to Sally. I was unsure about the casting, but she has earned her stay to me. I always imagined her as a bit more subdued, especially with the more intense iterations of Gabe. She's kind and gentle and has a rebellious streak, but as worried as she might be for Percy she hides it inside of herself. I think her being a bit more expressive as a character works in this setting though, especially since we aren't seeing her through Percy's kid colored lenses. She feels a bit less like the perfect, kind, and understanding mother Percy sees, and a bit more like a real-life single mother trying to keep some of that childhood wonder alive despite everything. She does seem younger than I would have expected, but that's a nitpick on my end. I think she is one character that I will always have a separate book/show counterpart for in my mind.

Ok. Now for Clarisse. Out of all the characters I was skeptic about, I think she's the only one who didn't win me over. This is a writing issue, nothing at all to do with the actress. She was characterized more as a 'queen bee' type mean girl than a bully who picks fights just to feel worthy of her father's approval. She would be better fit for a vindictive daughter of Aphrodite than a daughter of Ares. My mind might be changed in the future but we got most of her scenes in these first two episodes so I'm doubtful. The one moment that had potential was when Percy broke her spear, but the Clarisse I know would not back off just because there is an audience.

There was no hellhound... I was kinda looking forward to it, and it does emphasize that even camp isn't really safe for Percy and is a catalyst for both his quest and the idea that there is a traitor. I can kind of see why the cut it for thematic purposes so Percy feels safe for once in his life, but that's only if I squint.

The scene cuts. I know, I know they're supposed to mimic book chapters. I get it. But it just doesn't work for me, it feels like there's a lack of establishing shots and the black screen is long enough you think the tv is buffering. It's an interesting idea in concept, but the execution falls flat.

OH also as far as things that were missing- the 3 fates. I know this is in the show since it was in the trailers, but I'm curious as to where they're gonna put it now.

Anyways minor nitpicks aside these two episodes were an emotional roller coaster and absolute masterpieces of television cinema.

#pjo #percy series #pjo tv show #pjo tv spoilers #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo episode 1 #pjo episode 2 #pjo tv ep1 #pjo tv ep2 #pjo analysis #pjo meta #percy jackson #sally jackson #gabe ugliano #clarisse la rue #jess's thoughts

[nogoodsheepstealing-greatgrandma]

Team Green: Sorry your faves are boring 😊🤷‍♂️ Sure you're supposed to root for the Blacks but the Greens are just more fun. Jace is boring I'm here for my angsty disaster mess 💚

You realise that's bad writing, right? This is a family civil war drama. One side of that family civil war shouldn't be populated with blank slates. If no effort is made into making Rhaenyra and Daemon's children as fleshed out as Alicent's children then that is bad writing.

Some people find the Lannisters more fun than the Starks, but the Starks are still fleshed out characters (and considering in the books Jace is 14/15, Luke is 13, Joffrey, Baela & Rhaena are 12, Aegon the younger is 9 and Viserys is 7 - these kids ages almost map straight onto the Starklings so they were so meant to be our Targlings). It didn't have to be a zero sum "you can only have ONE side that's interesting". The show is poorer for it. Game of Thrones was a disaster in many ways, but at least the different sides of the conflict had equal screen time and attention.

How hard would it have been to flesh out Jace, or at least give him a half-decent haircut? He could have been a mirror to Jon Snow (they technically have the same initials). One is a bastard who does not know he's a targaryen prince, the other is a targaryen prince who discovers he is a bastard. In a world that hates bastards, that insists they are 'wanton and treacherous by nature', there was plenty of potential to explore some complicated emotions, to give weight to how he feels about being a bastard. The whispers that would have followed him, the scrutiny he would have felt, the internalised guilt and shame, his protectiveness over his little brothers and wish to spare them the truth. Maybe after Alicent confronted Aegon over the pig there could have been a shift where Aegon turns his bullying away from Aemond and towards Jace (more in keeping with book canon). Maybe Jace could feel anxious about lessons with Criston Cole due to his open hatred of him. Maybe he could be equal parts devoted to and resentful of his mother over his parentage, maybe he could be driven to perfectionism to prove himself worthy.

The show made Jace more violent in the fight with Aemond than in the book, by changing who started the fight (from Aemond to Rhaena and co.), by narrowing the age gap to make Jace more of a match for Aemond, and by having him draw a knife instead of a wooden toy sword. But they didn't earn that moment. How much more satisfying would it have been if both Aemond and Jace were given equal emotional weight in the build-up to the fight? If the hurt and anxiety at discovering he was a bastard had been building and building until it burst out. The entire reason the show changed the age dynamic between Rhaenyra and Alicent to make them peers and best friends was supposedly to make their conflict more dramatic - why would you then drop that approach with their kids? How does it make the civil war story better if one half of the next generation of characters aren't really characters?

They didn't even have to put much effort into Baela, as GRRM already had her brimming with personality on the page, but they just... ignored that and made her a non-entity. Oh she gets one punch in, and there's a blink and you'll miss it background shot of her trying to hit Aegon (at this point I don't think the actors were even directed to do that I think they just took it upon themselves). Meanwhile Baela in the books is wild and fearless and deliberately provocative and quick to anger and fiercely defensive of her loved ones and wrestles squires in the training yard and has a pet monkey and sneaks out in search of adventure and brings home 'unsuitable' friends. Including a legless beggar, a blacksmith's apprentice whose muscles she admired, a street conjurer, twin prostitutes and an entire troupe of mummers. And she alarms everyone due to being 'overly fond of boys' and gets epic lines like this when it is suggested she marry Lord Rowan:

“I’ve bedded two of his sons. The eldest and thirdborn, I think it was. Not both at once, that would have been improper.”

She could have been an absolutely chaotic presence onscreen. Rhaena meanwhile is a little more like Sansa to Baela's Arya, but would have needed more work to flesh her out onscreen. Her insecurities and wish for a dragon seemed promising at first, but they were dropped as soon as Aemond lost his eye. Because that was ultimately the narrative purpose she served - to provide a new reason for the fight to start that wasn't Aemond hitting and pushing a toddler into a pile of dragon poo. She helps Aemond's image by being the one to start the fight instead of him, and from then on she becomes a voiceless non-entity. We watch Aemond fly away victoriously on Vhagar, we don't see Rhaena tearfully watching the last link to her mother vanish over the horizon.

Considering the prominent role of bastards during the dance (especially the dragonseeds), the uninterest in exploring bastardy in Jace makes little sense. Considering the centrality of gender to the story (and considering a certain event involving key players during the dance), the lack of effort into Baela and Rhaena makes zero sense (the show doesn't even bring up their right to Driftmark in an episode dedicated to discussing the rightful heir to Driftmark).

Considering especially that in fantasy black women are so often consigned to minor Missandei roles, the fact that we were robbed of Baela and Rhaena as main characters particularly stings. Baela in particular was an easy fan favourite in the book, and its a role that black women and girls so rarely get to play. If you had told me before the show that Helaena would be a fan favourite over Baela, I wouldn't have believed it. And don't get me wrong, I like that they fleshed out Helaena in the show, like Rhaena she didn't have much of a presence in the book. But it is so typical that the relative non-entity that they kept white gets to be fleshed out, while the more fleshed out character that they made black becomes a non-entity. And Helaena is skinny now, of course (all love to Phia Saban, but I am mourning plump Helaena).

And don't get me started on Kylo Raemond.

#hotd critical #house of the dragon #team black #team green #pro team black #jacaerys velaryon #baela targaryen #rhaena targaryen #aemond targaryen #helaena targaryen #kylo ren #jace #jon snow #valyrianscrolls #f&b

[cellythefloshie]

;; Mama Bear Dedicated to myself. Because this has been my passion project.

Summary: With her son Parker set to skate in his first NHL game with the Boston Bruins, Katherine Stacy travels to Boston. When her plans are derailed by her ex-husband, Katherine is forced to spend a night on the town alone where she meets Jeremy who is more than willing to show her a good time. Kinks & Tropes: Age Gap (22 v. 40). Divorcee. Alcohol Consumption. One Night Stand. Oral Sex - Fem Receiving. Mirror Reflection. Protected Sex. - If I missed something, yell at me. ABOUT THE OC’s: Katherine: AKA Katie. Face Claim: Bryce Dallas Howard. 40's. Mother of Parker Waylon-Stacy. Parker: Face Claim: N/A. Boston Bruin's Rookie. Dorthey: AKA Dottie. Face Claim: Kate Hudson. Best friend of Katherine. Word Count: 12k+

A/N: Would you believe me if I said that this fic was 4 months in the making? @hagelpoint-3821 and @hockeyboysimagines -- I do not know how you have put up with me teasing this fic for so long. This fic is one that ignited a fire of excitement in me, and to be able to share that excitement with the two of you is something I will always appreciate. You both know that this fic could have easily become a full length novel - and I did have to cut back on this things to assure I could get this out before the new year. I won't have to but you guys with persistent updates about the progress anymore! Thank you so much for your ongoing support and encouragement. With that said, this fic is not going to appeal to everyone. It is unlike anything I have written before, and is unlike anything I have seen in this community before. So please consider liking and relogging if you enjoy, and if doesn't end up being your cup of tea - thank you for giving it a shot. And please note that I did not do a full edit of this fic. I will be editing any mistakes I see upon rereads. I hope you all enjoy reading this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it.

As a woman traveling alone, there was one thing Katherine Stacy made sure to do: she created a detailed itinerary. Everything from her flights to hotel check-in times and the sights she was planning to see in the great city of Boston were listed in detail on two neatly organized pages. And she made sure to print 3 copies. One for herself, that she carried in her black Kate Spade purse. One for her ex-husband, Ronnie, who was meant to join her on her trip. And the last, for her best friend, Dottie, who remained back home in Toronto - but was the one person she knew she could count on if something did not go according to plan. 

Which was why, as Katie called her from her dimly lit hotel room in the middle of the day - when she was supposed to be touring the Museum of Fine Arts - Dottie answered with such urgency you would have thought her home was on fire. Her mass of blonde curls was the first thing you could see when she answered the video call. They fell into her face that was too close to the screen, her words rushed so close together they slurred into one. “What’sgoingon?Whyisitsodark?Thisisnottheartmuseum.”

Katie propped her phone up against her suitcase, the camera obstructed by the bag’s handle as she rushed to get one of the lights, a string of apologies leaving her lips. When she returned to the end of her bed, she fixed the camera just right before her hands dipped into her bag and she continued to unpack her belongings and store them away in the hotel room’s dresser. It was only then, with her hands busy and a heavy breath rocking her shoulders, that Katie told Dottie why she was calling. 

“He brought her.”

That was all Dottie needed to hear for her eyes to be sent wide in disbelief, “He. Did. Not.” Dottie was always nothing short of eccentric and supportive, but that support only had grown stronger since Katie’s divorce. And since Ronnie started dating again. 

Not even a year into their separation before their divorce was finalized, he had started dating Monica. A beautiful, blonde, twenty-something, esthetician from Etoboike who had weaseled her way into the Waylon family before Katie could even realize what was happening. Which included joining Ronnie on their trip to Boston. Which was supposed to be just the two of them. One where they were coming together as parents to celebrate the success of their son, Parker Waylon-Stacy, who was set to play his first game in the NHL the next evening.  

Worst of all, he hadn’t told her she was coming. Monica had been a nasty surprise when she met him at The Westland for lunch. Katie knew the young woman could see the shock all over her face when she spotted her, and while her attendance was an unpleasant surprise, she had tried to be civil. Yet, Katie could only tolerate so much. 

So she canceled their dinner reservations at the Citizen Public House & Oyster Bar and did not make her planned trip to the art museum. Instead, she had taken a taxi back to the Courtyard by Marriott where she was staying for her short visit in Boston. What she was going to do now, she didn’t know, but Katie knew she needed to call Dottie.

“I knew you should have just come with me Dot-”

Dottie cut in, her words strained by her frustration. “I would have ripped his testicles off with my bare hands-”

“Dot!”

“What?” Dottie was taken back, her brows furrowed. 

“He’s allowed to be dating, we aren’t married.” She and Ronnie hadn’t been together since their son had turned sixteen. That was almost two years ago now, and Katie didn’t miss a single minute of being married to him. She never would. 

“But this trip was supposed to be a family trip,” Dottie reminded, her hand coming up to run over her face with a sigh, “for Parker.”

“Well,” Katie chewed at the inside of her cheek, her hand coming up to push her long red hair back out of her face, “he’s marrying her.”

All Katie could hear was a long, low growl of a no, the video call going dark as Dottie either dropped the phone face down onto a surface or accidentally turned her camera off at the shock of the news. When the sight of her returned, her hand was over her mouth, and her eyes were wide. 

“You should have seen her ring,” Katie told her, her hands wringing the fabric of one of her blouses in her hands like a wet rag, “it was, wow.”

The band was gold, and the diamond was big. Bigger than what she had on her engagement ring and wedding band combined. It was so big it was almost gaudy and hard to miss. It was eye-catching with every single one of Monica’s movements, and all Katie could think of at the sight of it was: Does Parker know? 

It was a question that haunted her as she put down her blouse, pulled her pajamas from the bottom of her bag, and began to undress with little care that Dottie was still on the other end of the call. They had been friends since middle school. There was little Dottie hadn’t seen or didn’t know. 

“Whoa, whoa,” Dottie spoke, the shock fading at the sight of Katie stripping out of her jeans, “what are you doing?”

Katie stepped out of her jeans, leaving them in a heap on the floor as she held her satin bottoms in her hand, “Turning in?”

“NO, you aren’t going to let that selfish prick ruin this trip for you,” Dottie spoke in a firm tone, her finger pointing right into the lens of her camera. 

“What am I supposed to do, Dottie?” Katie sighed, throwing up her hands in defeat and accidentally throwing her pajamas across the room, “I’m just going to order room service and watch some paper view-”

“No, no. You’re going to go out and enjoy yourself.”

A sigh rocked through Katie’s entire body, her hand falling into her hands as she fought back a frustrated sob. She’s a divorced mother in a city she doesn’t know. Her son was off with his teammates doing god knows what on a team-building outing. Her ex-husband was off celebrating his engagement. And she was alone. 

Hot tears pricked at green eyes in the shadow of her hands, but Katie didn’t let them fall. Deep, heavy breaths from years of hiding her frustrations with her husband kept them at bay, but Dottie noticed. She always noticed. 

Which was why her voice had softened when she spoke again, “Show me what’s in your suitcase?”

“My suitcase?” Katie croaked out, her hands coming down to rest against the pale freckles skin of her thighs. 

“Yes, your suitcase.”

Stepping forward, Katie took her phone in her hold and flipped her camera around for Dottie to see. The suitcase was mostly empty now, save for the jacket she had packed at the bottom. The rest of her clothes she had tucked away in the dresser drawers. She had packed just enough clothes to last the three-day trip. Her main outfit was a pair of jeans, boots, and a t-shirt she planned to wear under a jersey to the hockey game the following night. Everything else was meant to be worn during sightseeing, or on the flight home. And every bit of it was practical. 

“No, no, love. Why do you do this to yourself?” Dottie sighed, her shoulder slouching forward. Dottie, herself, was a bit of a fashionista. She always wore the latest trends and was always seen in the brightest colors. Because, well, Dottie liked to be seen. “Where is the sext shit we bought last time we went out?”

“Back home?” Katie spoke in more of a question, her brow raising as if where it was wasn’t already obvious. “I wasn’t coming out here intending to seduce my ex-husband, Dot.”

“You’re in Boston, Katie! A city full of eligible bachelors you can forget about the moment you fly home.”

“Dot-”

“When was the last time you got laid, Katie?”

Her stomach sunk, her mouth going dry at the question. Dottie already knew the answer to that question, but she was trying to use it to motivate her now, even if Katie hated it when she did that. 

“You would have heard about it if it happened.”

“You’ve been divorced for over a year, Katie - separated for two. It’s time to ditch the vibrator.”

Katie let out a long, frustrated huff, fighting the urge to toss her phone onto the pillow. She knew exactly where this was going. “I’m not using that stupid dating app-” 

Tinder. Bumble. Plenty of Fish. Hinge. If it was a dating app, she was on it, and failing miserably at it. Dottie’s daughter, Megan, had set her up with the accounts. Helped her pick every flattering picture and even wrote her biography to cater to the current dating scene. And it had only led her to two types of people, men just like her husband who were divorced and looking for their next way to mother them, or were young men - too young for her to comfortably consider - with mommy issues. And both had gifted her far too many unsolicited pictures of their cocks. 

Just the thought of opening the app made her want to gag. 

“Then don’t,” Dottie spoke, her tone assuring and not forceful. “Just do this one thing for yourself. Go buy a nice dress and a pair of underwear that haven’t seen postpartum. Something sexy. Something to make you feel confident, and go out to dinner. Take yourself out. Hell, even if it’s just the hotel bar. Get a drink and try to have a little fun. For me.”

Dottie dipped her chin down and pouted her lips. Growing up, it was always how Dottie had gotten her way, and sometimes it still worked. Just like it had then. 

“Fine.”

“Good, now, I gotta go,” she spoke, and her screen was suddenly a rush of color as she was on the move, “The twins have a game tonight.”

Dottie was a mother of three. Megan, 18, the same as Parker, was off at university, but the twins were only 12. And had a very extensive hockey schedule to maintain, which kept Dottie’s schedule busy and her hands full. 

“Alright, alright, I won’t keep you,” Katie waved her hand at the phone casually, “Tell Brandon and Brayden Auntie Katie is cheering for them-”

“Don’t think this gets you off the hook,” Dottie added quickly, “I want a selfie of you looking sexy at the bar. Love you. Kisses!” 

Shopping alone was something Katie loathed. Nothing ever fit her proportions right, especially after the rollercoaster that was going from a size 2 to pregnant to struggling with her weight postpartum, to a grueling weight loss journey that brought her to a weight that she could be both healthy and happy with. But Katie wasn’t skin and bones. She was soft and curvy with an ass that was maybe a little bigger than she would like, and breasts that didn’t match the fashion industries’ standards of what her body was supposed to look like. It was that fact that left her rotating out of each boutique's change room, trying on one dress and then the next before she found one dress that fit her body just enough for her to confidently make the purchase. 

It was a little black dress that stopped just below the knee. It was sleeveless, and the deep vee neckline showed off her cleavage with a little help from some strategically placed fashion tape. The dress hugged her curves without restricting her stride and left her feeling sexy as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror and took her time to do her hair and makeup for her night on the town. 

Aka. Her night at the hotel bar. 

It was only a short walk from the elevator to the bar's entrance. The dark bar filled with the warm amber glow of the lights that hung above each table, and along the high traffic points of the bar. Normally, she wouldn’t consider going to a place like this. Katie liked to be able to see what she was eating and drinking. But tonight she was desperate. Desperate and alone with no thought in her mind that the latter would change. Besides, she just needed to be there long enough to take a few pictures and leave without an empty stomach. With those two facts in mind, Katie walked into the bar with the confidence only a mother could have and seated herself down the bar.

It’s the most lit area of the establishment, her seat was right beside one of the beautiful bronze light fixtures. It set her face aglow, her bright red lipstick and dark mascara framed eyes illuminated so fully she feared she might look like a clown, but she tried not to focus on the insecurities of dining out alone. Instead, Katie pulled out her phone and texted a quick picture of herself to Dottie. She looked a little more anxious than sexy, but it proved she was out. Then, she took a picture of the light fixture before placing her phone screen down on the bar top and welcomed a menu as it was placed in front of her.

The barkeep was nice, and if she was younger she might have mistaken his kindness for flirtation. But Katie knew better. It was his job to be friendly. Good service meant better tips, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t need the confidence boost. It, at the very least, left her smiling as she looked over her menu and ordered a drink to start: a Negroni Sbagliato. 

It would be the first of two during her meal. The first left her more comfortable being out in Boston alone. The second gave her the confidence to lift her phone from the bartop. Her fingers hovered over the darkened screen before she awakened its brightness with the single click of the home button. Her eyes had to squint at the harshness of its light, her eyes having adjusted to the bar’s moody atmosphere before she could be greeted with the series of notifications from Dottie. 

She was at her son’s hockey game, but she had taken the time to respond to the photo with a series of flame emojis. Quick, but effective support that had Katie’s finger leaning towards the Tinder app that she had tucked on her last page of applications. 

The screen came to life with an even harsher light, leaving Katie to flinch in her seat as she tried to hide her screen beneath her arm. At her age, there was nothing more embarrassing, in her mind, than being on a dating app. She looked down at the first profile carefully as she brought her phone down to her lap, her thumb swiping left on the first eligible bachelor who didn’t look all that eligible when she was sure the woman in the picture was his wife, and not his sister or a friend. Then the second, third, and fourth men in her radius were all at the bottom of her age range and looked all too young. 

In her position, Katie knew she shouldn’t be so picky. She was in Boston for only a few days. Alone for one night. If anyone wanted to meet her for a drink, or at the very least provided a pleasant series of text messages before ghosting her when she found out she was a mother, she would be able to label the night as a success. 

With each passing profile, Katie fell further into defeat and accepted that she would be enjoying her night alone. And she accepted that as she sipped at what was her second drink, only for it to gently choke at her throat at a soft, unfamiliar voice spoken at her side. 

“I’d swipe right on you.”  

The words sent a blossom of heat through Katie from her heart to her cheeks and the tips of her toes. Unsolicited, they should have flooded her with dread. But they were flirtatious and left her giddy before she could even offer the man more than a glance. It had been a long time since someone hit on her at a bar, and it left her sitting taller in her seat. Confident. 

That was until she looked right, and to the man who had greeted her with his flirtatious words. Her stomach was left unsettled. He wasn’t ugly. Far from it with his tall, lean stature, chestnut brown hair, and eyes a warm brown hue that could so easily tempt her into comfort if she let them. But he was young. Younger than anything in her age range on any of the dating apps on her phone. He looked older than her son, but she may have mistaken them for the same age if it wasn’t for the beginnings of a beard along the angles of his jawline. 

As quickly as her stomach fluttered with butterflies, she was flooded with disappointment. She wouldn’t even entertain a man as young as he was. But Katie was too polite. 

“That’s very flattering,” there was a hint of a smile in her voice as she looked down at the bartop to hide the blush that still threatened to creep up on her cheeks. “But I’m pretty sure I’m old enough to be your mother.”

The statement seemed to amuse him, his smile growing as he stepped up to sit on the barstool next to her. He, whoever he was, was getting too comfortable. It left Katie shifting in her seat, suddenly all too aware of how her heels hooked on her stool and how her thighs pressed together uncomfortably as her ass was cradled by her seat. 

“I don’t believe it,” he wore a boyish grin as he turned his body just enough to give her all of his attention, “You here, looking like that…”

Katie could feel his eyes drag up and down the length of his body, admiring her figure and how it looked in her little black dress. 

“Being anyone’s mother would be a shock to me,” he finished his train of thought, his words still on the verge of flirtation. 

Katie wanted to accept it. To feel flattered by his interest however great or mild it may be. But there was an anxiety that bubbled deep in her stomach. One that left her paranoid that this could be a joke. Shifting in her seat, Katie did a glance around the bar. Looking from table to table she looked for anyone that the man beside her could be associated with. But the bar was quiet. There was a table with what looked like a bridal party that would be pregaming before hitting the town. Then, there was a table of old-timers who may have been regulars or retirees visiting the city. Neither were crowds he would be a part of. That was unless he was homosexual. But, if he were, he wouldn’t be seated beside her at the bar, hitting on her. 

“You’re too kind,” she spoke slowly, trying to be polite. 

“What can I say, my mama raised me right,” he smiled a boyish grin, “which is why I’d like to buy you a drink.”

Katie’s heart fluttered in her chest at the offer, her head cocking to the side as she spoke; “You don’t have to.”

“I insist.”

Katie had to give him one thing, he was confident. She could see it in how his dark eyes didn’t tear away from her, and how his shoulders remained strong instead of slouching with each of her flattered but deflective responses. He could have taken her brief remarks as being disinterested - which in a way she was disinterested if only because of his apparent age - yet, he persisted.  

Reaching up with his hand, the mystery Bostonian flagged down the bartender and met him with a smile. He ordered himself a drink, before nodding towards Katie and requesting another for her as well. Then, he offered him his credit card. Katie’s eyes lingered on the piece of plastic as it was passed from one man to the other. It was just a typical credit card. Nothing fancy that would indicate that he was a man with exceptionally deep pockets, and her stomach filled with dread as she realized that she had probably let some poor college student pay for her drink. 

It left her mouth tasting sour as her third drink of the evening was placed in front of her. So sour, that she almost rejected it. But it was already paid for, so she accepted it and decided that if he ordered a second for himself, she would pay for it. 

“Thanks,” she spoke across the short distance between them, her body turning to be a little more open to a conversation. 

Talking to him was the least that she could do. 

“What brings you to Boston…” he started, his words trailing off. He wasn’t done with his question, yet, he was asking her for something already. 

Blankly, Katie stared at him, unsure of what exactly he was fishing for until it hit her. He wanted to know her name. She could feel her face go red with the realization, and redder when she hesitated when she almost said her full name, Katherine. 

Katherine felt old. Stale. Everything she was trying to avoid being, so she gave him her nickname instead, “Katie.”

“What brings you to Boston, Katie?”

“Visiting family,” she kept her answer brief without the messy details. And without the mention of having a son that she was sure was only a few years younger than him. “What about you…”

“Jeremy,” he was quicker to answer, his hand reaching out halfway. She smiled at the gesture, reaching out and meeting his hand with hers in a simple handshake before she withdrew to wrap her fist around her glass. 

“What brings you to Boston, Jeremy?”

“Nothing too exciting, just work.”

Just work. Such a simple answer. Straightforward. No details. And she could have asked for more, but he met her level of secrecy - of mystery - all the while making his intentions known. He didn’t need to disclose his life to her, or her to him, because he couldn’t care less if he was just looking for a woman to take back to his room. But before she could confirm her theory to be true, he pressed her for more. 

“If you’re here to visit with family, why are you alone?”

Katie wasn’t sure what she heard in Jeremy’s voice when he asked that question. If it was merely curiosity or pity, she hadn’t known him long enough to know. But it left her smile wavering as she answered him, “Busy schedules,” she shrugged her shoulders to give off a feeling of carelessness even though it was still bothering her, “I’ll see them all in the morning.”

“How early?”

 If she had been taking a sip of her drink, Katie would have choked again. “You aren’t very discreet.” 

“I can’t afford to be. A beautiful woman like yourself, you could fly off tomorrow and I’d never see you again. At least I can know I took my shot.”

Katie cocked her hair to the side, her bright auburn hair cascading down between her shoulders as her eyes looked at Jeremy in disbelief. He was the very definition of a golden retriever. Happy, waiting with the greatest anticipation that if he was a dog, his tail would be wagging. And he was waiting for her to throw her a bone. 

Biting her lip, Katie placed her drink down on the bartop and her gaze followed after. She shouldn’t have been considering it. Yet there she was, her hands came to rest around her phone and gripped it tight as one thought was clear in her mind. She needed to call Dottie. 

“Can you excuse me for just a moment?” she asked slowly. 

Jeremy answered with a curt nod, his smile unwavering as he watched her with his wide brown eyes. 

With his permission, Katie couldn’t get out of her chair fast enough. She slid from the stool, and her heels slipping on the hardwood. It left her unsteady for a moment, her hand reaching out to catch herself on the bar, but before she could reach the polished wood a pair of large, warm hands had wrapped around her waist.  

The heat of his touch blossomed through Katie’s belly, sending her breath to hitch in the depths of her throat. She wanted nothing more but to hide her surely reddened face in her hands with embarrassment. She wanted to curse herself for her clumsiness, but she was frozen in his hold as he breathed out a whisper she could barely hear but could feel against her cheek; “Don’t worry. I got you.”

His touch. 

His words. 

It was almost enough to make her shudder. But with one shallow, forced breath Katie found her composure  and gave his arm a careful squeeze and a thank you that he might not have been able to hear. Then, she was drying back, her steps quick as she moved for the privacy of the woman’s washroom. It was there she was able to pull out her phone and call Dottie. But Jeremy’s touch was not forgotten, it’s warmth remained deep in her belly, lingering. 

“Where’s the fire?” There was an alertness in Dottie’s voice, nothing but the peaks of her face visible on the screen as she lay in the dark. Katie could only see more of her tired features as Dottie squinted and brought the phone closer to her face. “Wait,” her tone was one of disbelief, “are you still out?”

“Yeah,” Katie’s voice was uneven as she reached a hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear, “and I think I have a problem.”

“If it’s your card, I told you so. I knew you should have called the bank before you went-”

Shaking her head, Katie cut her off, “No, no, there’s a guy?”

Dottie perked up, any sign of sleepiness void from her face in an instant. “A guy? What are you calling me for? Take him to bed!”

Her excitement was contagious, not even the complaints from Dottie’s tired husband who lay beside her in bed could spoil the mood. Katie wanted to be able to revert back to her younger self. To squeal with excitement over a man. A man who thought she was sexy - who wanted to sleep with her with no strings attached. But it wasn’t that simple. 

“It’s just that,” Katie chewed her lip, a heavy sigh rocking her shoulders, “he’s young.”

“How young is young?” Dottie asked slowly, and cautiously as they waded into dangerous territories together. 

“I don’t know,” she sighed, “they didn’t card him. Maybe, twenty-five. No more than thirty.”

“Shit,” Dottie cursed, the single word drawn out and earning another grunt of disapproval from her husband, “he cute?”

“Very.”

“Well, I mean… Thirty isn’t too bad.”

“That’s IF he’s thirty, Dot,” she emphasized, her eyes wide as she dropped her voice lower at the sound of someone entering the washroom. 

“What’s the worst-case scenario?” Dottie asked. 

Katie thought for a moment, her teeth chewing her lip as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. As a woman, there were many horrible scenarios a woman could end up in when dating. Ending up dead was the worst of the worst, but she didn’t take it to that extreme. “Worst case? He’s a twenty-one-year-old fuckboy like the ones we warned Megan about before she went off to college. And I end up with the clap.”

Dottie’s laugh was lost on the flush of the toilet in the stall next to Katie, and the rush of the sink as the stranger in the bathroom washed their hands. It was a mess of noise, but Katie could still make out Dottie’s next question, “Best case?”

Katie hesitated as she threw her head back to rest against the stall. She was embarrassed by the answer. 

Dottie answered for her, “Best case you get laid for the first time in what is it? Two years?”

Hearing it outloud sent her stomach sinking? Had it really been that long? 

Katie cursed under her breath, her head hanging low. When had she let her life get so pathetic? For years, her life had one priority, raising her son. And she had done a good job, he was successful, about to play in his first NHL game after starting his season with the Bruins’ AHL affiliate.  But she never really moved on from her divorce, and from being a mom. Her ex-husband was engaged, and ready to start a new family. But she hadn’t even fucked someone anyone since her divorce. Even then, she and her husband hadn’t even shared a bed before their divorce. She couldn’t even recall the last time they slept together, even if she wanted to. 

From her throat erupted a long, unsatisfied groan. Her mind quickly fell on a decision that she may come to regret. 

“Dot,” she sighed, “is it fucked up if I take him back to my room?”

Silence hung between the two of them for a moment. Dottie processed the decision, and Katie waited anxiously for her friend to tell her if she was making the wrong decision.

“Teach the kid a thing or two,” Dottie spoke, the playful nature of her words lifting a weight of insecurity from her shoulders. 

“Dottie, thank you,” she spoke quickly, one hand going to the lock on the door while the other ended the call. 

With the decision made, with a little help from her friend, all Katie could do now was hope that Jeremy had waited for her at the bar. If he hadn’t she couldn’t blame him for leaving. Maybe she was older than she looked from a distance. Or he had just come to the bar to kill time before a night out in Boston, and she was merely the entertainment. She couldn’t let herself get too hung up on him if he were gone, but thankfully, she didn’t have too. Jeremy remained at the bar. Standing instead of propped up on his stool, his hand slipping something into his back pocket on her approach. 

And Katie, she didn’t waste any time being coy. “I don’t have reservations until 11.”

The smile that was beginning to feel like a welcome constant on Jeremy’s features grew at her words. Katie wasn’t sure if it was the question he was expecting, but it was clear that it was the one that he was hoping for and it flooded her stomach with butterflies. 

She was going to do it. 

She was going to take this attractive young man back to her room. 

“Let me just pay my tab,” Katie told him, her hands already on her purse to dig out her credit card. She merely pressed her jump against the thin, cold plastic card when the bartender threw his towel over his shoulder and raised his hand to reject her payment. He didn’t want it. Katie’s brow furrowed, then it hit her. It had already been paid for. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” she was quick to quip. Katie knew she should have been thanking him, but she couldn’t help but feel a little insulted. She was a grown woman. Successful in her own right. She was more than capable of paying for her own meal. 

“It’s nothing, really,” Jeremy shrugged it off, his arm sliding behind her to rest on her back so effortlessly it was as if they had come to the bar together. 

“Let me pay you back,” Katie insisted, earning the gentle pressure of his hand against the small of her back as he began to lead her out to the lobby. She almost scoffed. As if he knew where her room was - because she wasn’t going back to his. If this was going to happen, it needed to happen on her terms. That also meant, shoving her hand into her wallet and shoving a fist full of American money in his direction. 

Jeremy continued to refuse, his one hand reaching out to guide her hand back towards her open wallet. “And why would I do that?”

“Because I’m more than capable of paying for my own dinner-” She voiced, ready to fight him on it further, but his answer stopped her in place. 

“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.”

Katie stood in the middle of the hotel lobby, her head slightly cocked to the side as she slid out of Jeremy’s reach. He only took a few strides before looking back at her with such warmth in her eyes she thought she might melt. Jeremy was sweet. Too sweet. Acting in every way he had wanted her husband to when they were married, and he was just a young man. It was a cruel thing in a way. For the universe to taunt her with him, but she would let herself enjoy him, if only for the night. 

“Come on, I’m up on the fourth floor,” as she spoke, Katie’s words softened. She wouldn’t be fighting him about her bill again. If he wanted to be a gentleman, she was going to let him. 

They boarded the elevator together, Katie drawing her key card and moving to the right, and Jeremy boarding and leaning against the far left wall. Scanning her card, the elevator doors shut, the two of them alone together for the first time as the elevator began its slow ascent.

The movement made it feel as if her heart was sinking to the depths of her stomach, her anxiety building, as she leaned back against the right side of the elevator directly across from Jeremy. He was smiling still, watching her, admiring her. And she couldn’t help but smile too. It was contagious. 

Her smile had him smiling wider. 

Then, he pushed off the wall of the elevator and closed the short distance between them. He moved so quickly her anxieties didn’t have enough time to worsen, nor did they ease. Her heart raced in the depth of her chest as his hands found her waist, drawing her in from the cold support of the elevator wall and into the strength of his body. He was lean, maybe even a little too lean for her liking, but she could feel how strong he was as her body was pulled flush with his. Katie could feel it first in his grasp, as Jeremy’s fingertips pressed into the curves of her waist. Then again, as her hands braced against his chest, her own careful touch sliding up - feeling his pectorals flex in the process - and around before linking behind his neck. Her tough welcomed Jeremy in, and with him came his kiss. 

Katie had to press up onto her toes to meet it, even in her heels. Teetering on the toes of her heels as Jeremy leaned in and pressed a slow kiss to her lips. She had expected it to be a desperate kiss. One that was sloppy, and would leave her face wet and her eyes rolling, but she was wrong. Jeremy kissed her slowly, both hands on her hips for one moment, the next one had risen to stroke over the soft skin of her cheek. His thumb dragged over the smooth flesh, and down to catch on her chin, drawing her mouth open. Katie had to choke back a moan at the feeling of his tongue slipping in between parted lips. The warm stroke of his tongue infiltrated her mouth, the depth of the kiss leaving her legs weak as the elevator door chimed. 

They had reached her floor. 

red

She licked her lips as she drew back, her hands falling to her clutch to fumble with its contents for her room key. If she was fumbling with her purse, she wouldn’t have to look up and risk anyone else seeing the red lipstick that quickly became a mess on her face. She could feel how it was smudged off her lips, and she was sure that if she looked to Jeremy who now followed behind her like a shadow, that it would be smeared over his lips as well. 

But she didn’t look up. Not until she got to the door of her room and she took a deep breath. Once she crossed the threshold, there would be no going back. The thought left her on the verge of vomiting as she heard the lock click, and her hand reached for the door handle. She was nervous, more than that. Anxious. She was anxious. But there was an excitement that left her shivering as she led Jeremy into her hotel room. 

If he was going to kiss her like that, she couldn’t wait to see what else he intended to do with her. But first-

“Do you want another drink?” Katie asked him quickly as she came to stand in front of the small console table in the entryway. She placed her clutch there, and her key and had intended to peel away from it to move to the small bar in her room, but she found herself trapped between it and Jeremy’s body as the door shut behind her. 

Hands splaying out over the table, Katie braced herself there as Jeremy’s hands returned to her body. One snake around her waist, easing her to lean back into him while the other carefully pushed her loose auburn curls away from the pale skin from her neck. Her eyes went wide, fixated on the horrible piece of art that hung on the wall as his hot breath encroached on her neck. It washed over her in heated waves. The hot moisture was almost enough to make her sweat, but instead Jeremy left her melting. His kiss was slow against her neck. Peppering at first before his lips were dragging down her skin, leaving hot trails down to her collarbone and back up again. 

Her heart fluttered. Then it pounded. So loudly, all Katie could hear was her heartbeat in her ears. It left her eyes fluttering shut, her mind focused on nothing but the kiss of his lips and the touch of his hands on her body. He caressed her curves, gripped at her flesh and kissed every bit of exposed skin on her neck, throat and shoulders. And it all left her melting, her mind fuzzy, and any bit of inhibition was ready to leave her and let him do as he pleased with her body. That was until she left his hand encroached on the hem of her dress. The warm touch of his hand on the sensitive skin of her thigh sent her head into a panic. 

This was the beginning of foreplay. 

Katie should have expected it, she should have been looking forward to it. But it left her nerves raw. In all the years she had been married to Ronnie, foreplay had been forgotten. Sex was an obligation and it was quick. A mere tool used to please her husband while she was left to finish herself off in the shower or beside him after he had fallen asleep in bed. Back then, it didn’t matter if she was dressed in lingerie or pajamas. If she had a fresh shave, or hadn’t shaved for weeks. Ronnie didn’t care - or atleast, he always said he didn’t. But now, as a stranger’s hands were so eager to explore every inch of her body, it left her self conscious. 

“I’ve got whiskey at the bar,” Katie breathed out quickly, her knees weak as she stepped away from him and quickly moved for the bar. 

She was met by Jeremy’s low chuckle,“I’m not that bad looking, am I?”

“No - no, it’s not that - I’m sorry,” Katie apologized, her hand grasping at one of the little bottles of rum from the bar, “I haven’t done anything like this in a long time. I’m just a little nervous.” 

“How long’s it been?” His words were casual, his confidence unwavering even as she found her so close to plummeting. 

“Since when?” She asked slowly, seeking clarification if only to bide herself more time. Katie didn’t want to have to tell him the truth, but she wasn’t a liar. 

“Since you’ve had casual sex?”

“You really don’t want to know,” she countered. 

Omission was not the same as lying. 

Looking up from the bar top, and the bottle of whiskey in her hand that she had yet to uncork her eyes rose to look at Jeremy who had found his way to the end of her bed. He had seated himself down, his shoes kicked off his feet, and he leaned back on his elbows, lounging casually in the bed that had yet to be slept in. 

While he laid back, so casually, that he could have let his head lul back and let himself stare at the ceiling. But even as he relaxed there, waiting for her nerves to be put at ease by a little liquid courage, his soft brown eyes were fixated on her. Her grip tightened around the neck of the bottle, a quivering breath coursing through her body as she held his stare. It was soft, alluring in a way that left her ready to answer anything he may ask of her and it left her curing under her breath. It was a dangerous thing, just how easy to trust he was. 

Pouring her drink, straight whiskey into her glass, she sipped the room temperature alcohol back and let it burn. Then, under the blaze of it consuming her, Katie answered, “Twenty years.”

“Bullshit.”

Katie’s lips pressed together in a small smile, the shock on his ace coaxing an innocent shrug from her shoulders. 

“You don’t look a day over thirty.”

“Now that is bullshit,” she pointed at him, her lips spreading into a wider grin now. 

“You look incredible. That dress, your body. What can I say? You caught my attention. But I bet that dress looks even better on the floor.”

Katie swallowed back the lump that quickly formed in her throat as his words. She was very self conscious about her body. It changed drastically over the years. Once she was skinny, flat and narrow in no way the healthiest version of herself. But it was also the one that had carried her child, and left her with curves she didn’t want and scars only her ex-husband had seen. And now she was going to share it with Jeremy, a man who she was sure still had so much to learn about a woman’s body. It was a terrifying thought. One that hung in the back of her mind as she abandoned her drink on the bar and stepped out of her heels. 

Barefoot, she took careful strides towards the bed, her demeanor caught somewhere between confident and terrified, but it caught his attention all the same. Katie knew she had caught his eye when his smile tested the limits of how far it could spread over his cheeks as Jeremy sat up from where he leaned. He moved slowly to the edge of the bed, his legs spreading just enough for Katie to stand between them. 

With a careful, final step, Katie stood between his legs and looked down at him. Her heart pounded deep in her chest, so hard and so rapidly she thought her ribs were about to rattle. And in her chest, she could feel her very last inhale struggling to creep its way back up her throat in the calm of an exhale. It burned in her lungs, the nerves of undressing in front of him smothering her. That was, until she felt the warms of Jeremy’s hands find her body, and in an instant she calmed. 

She exhaled slowly through slightly parted lips as her eyes fell shut. In the darkness it brought, Katie fixated on the warmth of Jeremy’s touch. It dragged over her curves, tracing each rise and fall with his fingers and palms before each of his hands settled on her broad hips. There, he gripped her gently and guided her steps in a small circle so she stood with her back to him. 

Katie raised up her arms slowly, her hands dragging up her own neck and tangled into her auburn strands as she drew them away from the zipper of her dress. Her breath hitched again, but only for a moment,  in the back of her throat as she felt his fingers pinch at the zipper and drag it down. He inched it down slowly, and Katie could feel the black fabric begin to fall away from her skin. And as the warm fabric fell away, the cold air of the room kissed her skin. It sent a shiver coursing up her spine, her entire body shuttering as the fabric hit the ground, leaving her in nothing but a pair of black lace pair of panties. 

They were brand new. The tag was in the trash bin in the bathroom. And Katie would be forever thankful that she had bought them when she bought the dress instead of wearing something she had packed. If she had been wearing anything else, she may have recoiled from his touch, but instead, as she turned in place to face him, Katie radiated confidence. 

He could see almost all of her, from her stretch marks to the freckles on her skin. Yet, Jeremy’s touch didn’t recoil, his hands continued to explore the expanse of her body and his dark eyes didn’t look away. Instead, they traced her every curve on the way back up to her face that was left blank from the nerves that came from waiting for his reaction. Katie was sure that Jeremy hadn’t seen a body like hers before. So old, so flawed, so-

Her thoughts were broken by Jeremy’s slow, soft spoken words. “Yeah, looks much better on the floor,” Jeremy punctuated his words with the slow swipe of his tongue over his lip as his warm gaze dragged up and down the length of her body. His complement dissolved any feeling of nervousness, of insecurity, that had consumed Katie. Her joints had been weak, and her heart racing, but he brought her calm. 

In that calm, Katie found her confidence. Her teeth bit down on her lower lip, her mind racing as she tried to determine what exactly her first move would be – and then she took it. 

One step, and then another, Katie brought her legs up to kneel on the bed, the mattress shifting beneath her weight as she straddled Jeremy’s lap. The denim on his dark jeans was rough against the inside of her thighs as his hands helped guide her down into his lap. Jeremy’s arms constricted around her, drawing her nearly naked body flush to his. Katie could feel his hot breath against her cheek, her inhale drawing in the sweet scent of alcohol before she stole a kiss from his lips. 

Katie wasted no time with sweetness or caution. Instead she kissed him with such an insatiable hunger, she knew tasting him on her tongue wouldn’t be enough. But it was a start. Each deep kiss and stroke of her tongue against his left his stubble to drag over the sensitive skin of her jaw and cheeks. It was rough, scratching against her skin and contrasting the tender movements of his hands as his warm touch moved up over the curves of her body. Jeremy’s touch settled on the broad curve of her hips, his fingers digging into the soft and supple flesh. And it was the only encouragement she needed to coax the subtle roll of her hips over the roughness of her jeans. 

Quickly, Katie became intoxicated by his kiss, by his touch and the very feeling of him between her legs. It began with the friction of his fly against the crotch of her panties, the subtle friction sparking the beginnings of her arousal. And then she felt him. His cock stiffened in the confines of his jeans, growing and becoming a thick outline that pressed up into the thick denim that divided them. Katie dragged her core up and down his clothed length, a shudder taking her body as a soft moan was coaxed from her lips. And it left Jeremy smiling as he pulled back just enough to tug off his t-shirt. 

Her eyes looked him up and down in a quick glance. Jeremy was fit. With his chest muscles flexing, the outline of his abs clear and his biceps building as he tossed his t-shirt aside, Katie almost tucked her tail and ran. He wasn’t an Adonis of a man, but he was intimidating in every way. Especially, while she was no idyllic beauty herself. 

“That’s just,” she exhaled a long, desperate breath, “not even fair.”

Jeremy’s grin grew wider, his hands gripping her hips a little tighter, as he picked her up and flipped her to lay back against the comfort of the bed. The action left her breathless, her hands scrambling against the bed to ease herself upright until she felt Jeremy’s hand flat against her stomach to keep her in place as she lay just beneath the comfort of the hotel room pillows. She lay there panting for a moment, her hair a mess against the bed and her eyes fixated on the ceiling as she felt the bed shift, and Jeremy settle between her legs. 

“Just take a second, relax,” Jeremy’s hot words washed over the inside of her thighs, and her core clenched. 

The room around her seemed to spin as she lay there, her lips parted in disbelief as she felt his fingers hook on the black lace of her panties and dragged them down the length of her legs. She could feel the warm, wet puddle of her arousal as it dragged down against her inner thigh, and her stomach knotted as she felt the warmth of his breath encroach on her needy core. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had been between her legs - if one had been at all, because she knew her husband never had been. But Jeremy didn’t hesitate. 

He lay on the bed on his stomach between her legs, his one hand sliding down from her hip, over the red curls of hair that trailed down over her pelvis and down to the slick folds between her thighs. He stroked her slowly, with two fingers barely brushing her slit before parting her with his fingers and tracing the sweet arousal at her core. Jeremy teashed her there, her heart racing as she tried so desperately to be calm. Her heart pounded, and her teeth care down on her lower lip in a firm bite, the pain a little distraction from the insecurities that threatened to consume her. She in no way felt prepared for this of all things. It was supposed to be a quick fuck, but then she felt him. The warmth of his tongue stroked over the entrance of her cunt and she moaned. 

It ripped up her throat before she could stop it, the heat and wetness of his long tongue a stark contrast to the colder temperature of the hotel room. And the sound only seemed to fuel him. He delved into her as if he was dehydrated and she was all he had to drink. His tongue parted her folds, and delved into her core leaving her cunt dripping with his saliva. His hands wound around her waist, one moving over the thick red curls of her hair as he blindingly fumbled for her clit as his face was buried between her thighs. 

Reaching down, her hand took hold of his carefully. Her fingers slid along his, gripping them carefully as she guided him to just the right spot. But once she guided him there, Katie’s touch didn’t leave him. Her hand remained resting over his. It kept his pressure even, and his motion just right as he rubbed her in slow circles. The action wound her up, the pleasure building like a wind up toy. Each stroke of his tongue, and every rotation of his fingers left her burning pleasure to coil in her stomach and soon she was seeing stars. She was so close to the brink of her pleasure, that her toes were curling against the sheets and her thighs threatened to close in on his ears. But that was where he left her, on the verge of her climax, as he trailed sloppy kisses down the inside of her thighs before he could push up and pull as his belt. 

Pushing up onto her elbows, she watched as she pulled his belt free, and worked his jeans and his boxer briefs down his legs together. It was hard not to stare, to admire the muscles of his body as she fished through his pocket or his wallet, and then the condom that was tucked in its folds. 

The wrapper became discarded on the bed beside her, and he worked the latex onto his cock, ready to take his place between her legs again, but she didn’t let him. Katie felt too guilty, selfish even, for having his face buried between her legs, and it had her pushing up from her place with a sudden surge of confidence. Her hands found the strength of Jeremy’s chest, a playful shove knocking him back to lay against the bed so she could climb into his lap once more. She took in a steady breath, her nose wrinkling for a moment as it crossed her mind that she may be too old for what she had in mind, but it didn’t stop her. 

With a single hand, Katie reached down between their bodies and took hold of his cock in her hand. She stoke it slowly, once and then again before she brought it to the entrance of her core. The mere pressure of the tip of her cock threatened to send her legs trembling before she could take him. If it were anyone else, Katie might have given up and let him take her plainly on her back knowing full well it would get the job done for her. But Katie persevered. She eased herself down onto him slowly, her eager core accommodating him so effortlessly it left her moaning. And once she felt his warmth against her ass, and had consumed him into the depths of her core, Katie began to ride him. 

Her hands braced herself against the slender strength of her chest as her hips rolled. She moved in a slow and steady rhythm, the friction sending pleasure boiling through her entire body. Katie became lost in the feeling of hip hips rising to meet her body in a gentle pound. It was all she could fixate on, even as her legs began to tremble and the muscles in her legs began to burn. She could hear each subtle impact, the meeting of skin, and it became a symphony of sounds that mixed with her desperate breath and the soft sounds that she coaxed from Jeremy’s lips. He reeled on the bed beneath her, his warm eyes admiring her body as his hands gripped her hips and fingers sunk into the flesh of her ass. He encouraged her every move, guiding her up and down his cock, but she couldn’t hide how her legs trembled. 

Jeremy grinned wide, his head leaning back against the pillow as he let out a trembling breath of words, “Look so pretty taking my cock, you wanna see?”

Katie found herself at a loss for words as she slid down the length of his cock and froze with him deep inside her. Her breaths quaked under each uneven breath, and her mind was left fuzzy by the mere feeling of being so full of him. And all she could do was nod. 

Carefully, Jeremy eased her from his cock, and guided her to rest on all fours on the bed. In front of her at the end of the bed was the dresser, her empty bag still resting on top of it, but it wasn’t enough to block the view of the mirror that hung on the wall above it. She could see her reflection there, her auburn hair left mused and her face was almost just as red as it was flushed and smeared with her red lipstick. She could see her body too. Her skin was fair and freckled and so exposed. Her breast hung in two small swells, and from behind her shoulders she could see the swell of her hips and Jeremy positioning himself behind her. His eyes were fixated on her ass, as were his hands that kneaded at the soft flesh. 

Katie could see his lips move in a silent curse that was lost on her as he pulled he positioned her just right. And when he had her just where he wanted her, the careful glide of the tip of his cock found her entrance again, and her thrust deep inside. The first thrust left her mewling, and the second left her fingers to grip at the bedding below. She met every single one of Jeremy’s thrusts, the mass of her ass quaking from each impact. But she didn’t watch herself, Katie’s eyes did not leave Jeremy. She watched as his face softened, and his muscles flexed. His eyes even closed from the time as he became lost in the feeling – but when they opened his stare met his gaze in the mirror. 

Jeremy tutted her gently, a single hand leaving the soft flesh of her hip to travel up the length of her back. As he moved, she could feel more and more of his body against her. Then, his hand found her throat. He held it carefully, without pressure, and guided her up to kneel. There she could feel his entire body against hers, all the while his cock was buried deep in her core. His thumb rested along her chin, and his forefinger stretched out along her jaw, and Jeremey held her gaze there, on her own feeble expression as he fucked her until her throat was raw, and her core clenched desperately around her cock. It was under the pressure of her core’s embrace that she felt his breathing quicken,the rush of air hot against the back of her neck as he reached the very peak of his climax. 

His hands fell away from her lip ribbon, and Katie fell back onto her hands and knees. Her entire body trembled as she lowered herself down to the mattress. The soft twitches involuntary as she was left panting and void of Jeremy as he eased his cock from her. She was seeing stars, her head or the room spinning as the rush of being fucked began to fade. Katie was left exhausted, ready for sleep, but satisfied - feeling euphoria for the first time in years. But before she could sleep, she needed to take care of Jeremy. 

“You’re welcome to shower before you go,” she offered as she lay sprawled out on the mattress. It was the least she could do. 

“I’m going to take you up on that,” Jeremy carded a hand through his sweaty curls as he nodded towards what he thought was the bathroom door. 

Katie nodded in confirmation, and watched as he disappeared through the bathroom door. She did not move until she could hear the water tattooing against the shower floor. But she didn’t go far. She reached out to the dresser, and she pulled open the dresser drawer. She had left her pajamas on the very top, the same ones she was going to wear before Dottie had convinced her to go out, and she dressed slowly. Her body ached in the best way as she stepped into them. Then, she joined Jeremy in the bathroom. 

The room was full of steam, the mirror fogged over as she moved to stand in front of it. A single hand cut through the fog, revealing her tired reflection, but best of all she could see the silhouette of Jeremy in the shower behind her. She stood there, brushing her teeth, her eyes admiring his body as it was obscured by the steamy glass. 

Leaning forward, Katie spat a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink. 

“I’m going to turn in, you can let yourself out when you’re done. Use all the hot water if you want, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t steal my wallet while I slept.”

Jeremy’s laughter filled the air as effortlessly as the plumes of steam from his shower. It drew Katie's eyes to his blurred silhouette, a small smile curling up on her own lips. She could get used to that sound, and the warm fuzzy feeling that came with it. The joy and amusement it embodied was one she needed to embrace herself–

“You’ve got nothing to worry about. Goodnight, Katie.”

–And for a moment she frowned as she moved for the doorway, her eyes fixated on the ground, as she realized it was a laugh she wouldn't hear again.

Sweaty palms threatened the integrity of a single slip of paper as Katie held it firm in a single fist. It was a pale yellow posted note, one that she had found stuck to her bathroom mirror when she had woken up in the morning. It was left there to be found by tired eyes, the message:  For if you ever find yourself alone in Boston. Paired with Jeremy’s phone number,  it had made her smile as she tucked it into her purse before she had gone out for brunch with her son, Parker, her ex-husband and his new fiance. But it had also left her panicked when it had fallen out of her purse when she pulled out her wallet as she insisted on paying at least half of the bill. It rested on the table face door for a moment, Katie had frozen completely and Parker was quick to try and retrieve it for her, but she had acted quickly. She had grabbed it before he could, and then she had conceded. Parker paid for their meal, and the paper had remained secured in her hand as they left and parted ways. 

Even as she walked alone in a park she couldn’t remember the name of, the slip of paper remained secure in her hand. In the other she held her cell phone against her ear as it rang. She needed to call Dottie. She needed to know everything. 

“He left me his number.”

“That’s my girl. Rocked that boy’s world.” Dottie encouraged her with a holler. 

Katie looked down to her feet, her face flushed with color. She couldn’t remember the last time she had done anything like she had with Jeremy, and if it had been anyone else Katie would have bit her tongue. But she could trust Dottie more than anyone. They were best friends, practically sisters, Katie could tell her anything. 

“I think he had to be older than I thought. He was actually really good in bed,” Katie smiled a little too wide as she spoke. It had been too long since she had a real girl talk. “Like really good. And his body, Dot, I couldn't have pulled a guy like that when I was twenty.” 

“What did he say he did for work?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t ask-”

“Maybe he’s a porn star,” Dottie joked but Katie didn’t laugh.

She could only shrug. “I mean, it would explain a lot.” 

“You used a condom, right?”

“Yes mom, of course I did,” Katie rolled her eyes. 

“Good girl, are you going to text him?”

The question hung in the air for a moment. Katie looked away out over the park as if Katie could see her on what was merely a voice call. The prospect of reaching out to Jeremy was a pleasant thought in her mind. He was attractive, kind, and so good in bed. He treated her the way that she wanted to be treated. She should want to call him, but he was young. Too young to be anything more than a one night stand. 

She could never see Jeremy again. 

“Fuck, no,” she assured Dottie, “number went into the trash,” her words were rushed as she lied, and rushed further to assure Dottie wouldn’t question her on it. “I gotta go, I’ll call you after the game tonight. Kisses!”

TD Garden was unlike any arena Katie had ever been in. The fans were loud, so loud she swore her bones rattled in her body with every intense cheer. And the atmosphere left her sitting on the edge of the seat since before the game could even start. Or maybe that was just the nerves as she sat beside her ex-husband as they watched their son Parker Waylon-Stacy erupt from the tunnel to take his rookie lap. 

Her hands came together over her heart, her eyes fixated on him, and then the jumbotron above as the camera followed his path along the side. The threat of tears burned at her eyes, her lips parted in a breath that fought back of heartfelt sob that erupted when his name was plastered across the screen with his stats from the AHL. Parker Stacy.

Stacy. 

Her last name on her back, not her husband’s last name or the hyphenation of the two. It left ehr on the verge of tears throughout the night, and they did spill as it came down to the third period when she shot up from her seat as her son assisted on what would be the game winning goal. Katie cried into her hands, her husband’s arm patting her back as the crowd erupted around them. There was no greater pride than celebrating her son’s success in that moment with her husband, and the strangers around her that even offered her some napkins as her mascara began to run. 

“That’s my son,” she sobbed with pride, and the crowd of college kids around her celebrated with her. Some jumped, others spilled their beer, Katie even received a hug, but they all cheered, “Stacy's Mom!”

Katie remained in her seat after the game, reveling in the silence as the seats around her and her family cleared. And she only moved from her palace when she received a text message from Parker. He wanted them to come down to the locker room. It sent her through what felt like a maze of the arena, but with the help of a member of the security team, she found her boy. 

Katie ran to him, her arms enveloping her only son in her arms and pressing a kiss into his sweat drench hair. There the tears began to fall in hot streams down her cheeks, “I am so proud of you,” she told him as she drew back, her hand cradling his cheeks. Parker’s face was red, surely embarrassed by his mother’s affections, but he didn’t stop her. He had always been a mama’s boy, and that wouldn’t change even if his teammates gave him a hard time about that later. 

Parker wore a boyish grin, his hand raising to push through his wet hair. He was already showered and dressed, even if some of the other players around him were still half-dressed in their equipment. Parker was ready to leave, but first he wanted to make the introductions he felt he may never be able to make again. “Mom this is Patrice Bergeron-”

Katie turned in place, a smile blossoming over her face as she reached out to shake the Captain’s hand. She had every intention of being polite. She wanted to introduce herself, to make the small talk as she was prompted to. But her words were lost as hoots and hollers of the nickname Bulldog filled the room. The players were welcoming their rookie goaltender back into the room after completing his post game interview. Confidence embodied his every stride, and it drew Katie’s curious eye. 

The player was still dressed in his equipment, his back to her as he stood in front of his stall. SWAYMAN was sprawled across the back of his shoulders, framed by his shoulders. A single large hand reached back, peeling it from his body before it was tossed into a pile with the others. Katie’s eyes moved back to the Captain, a small awkward smile on her lips as she listened to him talk about the pleasure of mentoring her son. But his words were lost on her ears as they perked up at the sound of all too familiar laughter. 

Katie’s blood ran cold, her eyes searching for the sources of the laughter. Her heart pounded in her chest, her stomach jumping up into her throat as she was left on the verge of vomiting. There, standing in his stall, laughing along with his teammates was Swayman, who no longer stood with his back to her. He was completely shirtless now, and his face was all too clear to see. She knew those warm brown eyes, and that soft confident smile. The sight of them was one that would be etched into her memories for the rest of her days. 

Swayman was Jeremy. 

She stood there, petrified, her eyes unmoving from his as he leaned back and flexed his chest muscles. It was there, with his back leaned against his stall, his warm gaze rose and his face softened with recognition. If he was panicked he didn’t show it. And while she froze, Jeremy acted. He stood up slowly, Katie had to fight not to let her eyes wander, and he approached with a casual stride. 

“I didn’t realize we had guests,” Jeremy smiled as he came up to stand beside his Captain, but Katie could barely hear him over the pounding of her heart in her ears. 

The room around her seemed to move in slow motion, her head suddenly feeling light as Patrice introduced her as Stacy’s Mom. It was then she thought she might actually vomit, the bile burning at the back of her throat as Jeremy looked to her with slightly parted lips and a slight glimmer in his eyes. Her palms began to sweat, so much so that she had to wipe her hands along the seam of her jeans before she could reach out to shake Jeremy’s hand as he offered it to her. 

“Stacy’s Mom?” Jeremy spoke with such disbelief that Katie almost believed her, “You don’t look a day over thirty.”

White she had heard that same flattery before it made her heart race all the same. But this time, she couldn’t show it. 

“You’re too kind,” Katie forced a smile, struggling to remain composed as the feeling of her hand encased by his left her heart racing just as his touch had the night before. It was enough to bring her to her knees. 

Jeremy made her weak, and he would for the rest of her days. She would crave him, in every sense of the word. Katie wanted to hear his sweet laughter. She wanted to feel his hands on her body, and enjoy every piece of his that he could offer her. It was a hunger that would rage and burn in the depths of her, but it was one that she could never fulfill. Not now, not that she knew who he was. 

Standing there, the chaos of the room became an echo in her ears as her hand fell away from Jeremy’s hold. She watched as he met her ex-husband, his smile consistently pleasant and was the only thing keeping her from spiraling right there in the locker room. 

Katie would be seeing Jeremy Swayman again. At games, during breaks. Often. So often it would pain her. And she could only pray that she would have the strength to refuse him, or that Parker would find himself on a new team before her will could break. 

Katherine Stacey could not fuck Jeremy Swayman. 

She wouldn’t. 

Not again. 

Surely, she wouldn’t be able to get away with it. Not without complications. 

Could she? 

Taglist: @mp0625 @starshine-hockey-girl

#jeremy swayman #boston bruins #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl rpf #hockey rpf #hockey smut #hockey imagines #hockey romance #age gap romance #nhl writing #jeremy swayman x original character #nhl smut

[shitpostdevil]

Am I Allowed to Cry?

(((SatoSugu one shot)))

Drowning in the Blue Nile

He sent me "Downtown Lights"

I hadn't heard it in a while

My boredom's bone-deep

This cage was once just fine

Am I allowed to cry?

‘Why didn’t you chase him?’ 

The words echo in my mind, 

haunting me as I stare 

at the bare wall of my dorm room 

where photos used to stay. 

It was my responsibility as a jujutsu sorcerer 

to stop exactly what Suguru caused. 

His smile was so soft. 

He knew I wasn’t going to understand 

and he didn’t even try to convince me. 

He was always like that this last summer. 

Something in him changed after Amanai died. 

I’m pretty sure he had thought I was dead too 

from the look on his face 

when I walked into that room holding her corpse. 

I knew I had changed. 

Being on the brink of death will do that to a person. 

I grip my bedsheets, 

gritting my teeth at the tears 

that burned their way out of my eyes 

against my protest. 

All I remember after that is screaming 

until I heard Shoko’s voice.

“Give him space, 

get out of here! 

Gojo, hey, Gojo-”

I dream of cracking locks

Throwing my life to the wolves or the ocean rocks

Crashing into him tonight, he's a paradox

I'm seeing visions, am I bad?

Or mad? Or wise?

Do we still talk? 

It would be unwise to indulge the answer to that. 

How they haven’t found me out yet? 

I have no idea. 

They must trust their golden boy enough 

to not assume that he would be 

in the bed of a criminal after long missions, 

dressing my wounds, 

always stretching out the time. 

He explained himself. 

Adopted two little girls- 

I can’t blame him for doing what he did, 

but I would never say that out loud. 

This world is… horrible. 

We know that better than anyone I suppose.

What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind?

One slip and falling back into the hedge maze

Oh, what a way to die

I keep recalling things we never did

Messy top lip kiss, how I long for our trysts

Without ever touching his skin

How can I be guilty as sin?

Staring at my phone screen, 

my scrolling through pointless pictures 

paused by his text; 

When are you coming over next? 

Simple, but he always did get straight to the point. 

My finger absent-mindedly twirls 

around the black cat phone charm that he got for me- 

something I had claimed I’d won in a random gacha pull, 

but I knew the truth and that’s all that mattered. 

Part of me needed him with me, 

even if I couldn’t admit it. 

I want to drop everything and run to him 

every 

damn 

time. 

Soon. I text back, 

locking my phone and letting my arm drop, 

painted fingertips grazing over sheets 

he will never see again.

I keep these longings locked

In lowercase, inside a vault

Someone told me there's no such thing as bad thoughts

Only your actions talk

“How long are you going to do this, Gojo?” 

Shoko quizzes me, 

her face holds a touch of disapproval 

but not disappointment. 

I just look at her. 

Does she really expect me to give an answer for that? 

Until the day I die. 

I want to say. 

Want to scream.

I can’t even give an actual answer 

because all that would give is 

confirmation that I still see the ‘traitor’. 

She knows. 

She has to. 

She… saw how badly it broke me- 

feelings I never want to unleash again. 

“What are you talking about?” 

I finally ask, 

eyes begging her to drop it through sunglasses. 

She just pulls out her cigarette box silently, 

flipping the top open 

and holding it in my direction, offering. 

I take one.

These fatal fantasies giving way to labored breath

Taking all of me, we've already done it in my head

If it's make-believe

Why does it feel like a vow we'll both uphold somehow?

“S-Satoru~” 

His liquor soaked breath stutters in the dark 

as I work my art on him, 

messy kisses to the insides of his thighs, 

leaving marks that will only be known to us. 

His hands are tangled in my hair loosely, 

tightening every moment he feels good. 

He refuses to be quiet, 

but I couldn’t complain. 

“A God amongst men, 

and you’re begging for me.” 

I state breathlessly, 

smirking up at him. 

He just hums in pure amusement.

“You always were so cocky~” 

he chides, 

hips bucking when my lips find his leaking head.

“You were saying?” I ask.

“Mm-mmm~” he says as he pushes my mouth onto his cock. 

I can’t help but give him what he wants.

What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind?

One slip and falling back into the hedge maze

Oh, what a way to die

My bedsheets are ablaze, I've screamed his name

Building up like waves crashing over my grave

Without ever touching his skin

How can I be guilty as sin?

Shoko notices the hickey I tried my hardest to cover 

almost immediately. 

Deny. 

Deny. 

Deny. 

“The girl I was with wasn’t really as careful as I asked her to be.” 

I bluffed, laughing. 

Her eyes questioned deeper, 

but not her voice. 

What if I roll the stone away?

They're gonna crucify me anyway

What if the way you hold me is actually what's holy?

If long-suffering propriety is what they want from me

They don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly

I choose you and me religiously

“You know this can’t last forever Satoru.” He says. 

I clench my jaw. 

Of course I know that. 

Why did he feel the need to bring this up again? 

His hands are so gently painting my fingernails black. 

It was his way of being intimate without having to admit it. 

I secretly loved having any trace of him on me that I could get. 

I don’t want to respond to him, 

I just want to stay here, 

at this moment. 

Forever. 

I never wanted him to stop holding my hands so preciously.

What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind?

One slip and falling back into the hedge maze

Oh, what a way to die

I keep recalling things we never did

Messy top lip kiss, how I long for our trysts

Without ever touching his skin

How can I be guilty as sin?

“At least curse at me a little at the very end.” 

His smile is still so soft even with blood everywhere. 

I just fall to my knees, 

eyes filled with traumas no one should have to see. 

“If I had noticed… 

If I saw how badly it destroyed you… 

would it have changed anything?” 

I’m speaking before I can think it through.

“Perhaps…” He coughs, breathing sharp, 

“But then again… probably not.” 

The tears are falling before I can stop them. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

I can't get my voice above a whisper.

“It’s not your fault, my one and only.” 

My one and only…

He sent me "Downtown Lights"

I hadn't heard it in a while

“Satoru.” 

The voice of a ghost speaks from behind me and I falter, 

if only for a moment. 

Suguru…? 

I turn. 

I’m trapped again, 

but this time it’s real. 

Is it really so bad to die if it’s at his hands? 

Horror written all over my face- 

that’s his body, but that isn’t him.

Am I allowed to cry?

My soul knows otherwise…

#~ #satosugu #fanfiction #JJK SPOILERS #JUJUTSU KAISEN SPOILERS #am I allowed to cry? #geto #geto suguru #suguru geto #gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #found art on pinterest! if you want credit or want it removed please alert me!!! #I made the banner at the bottom #im so sick guys i fuckin forgot some of the formatting and the 18+ warning 😵‍💫

[iloveetoeatbananas]

Stranded (Minho x fem!reader (one-shot))

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ok so this is my first time writing any sort of fanfic but I thought I would give it a shot. I read over it multiple times and there shouldn't be too many spelling errors but don't be surprised if u find a couple.

Warnings: contains spice and mild cursing

Context: high school au with everyone from the glade plus people from the other mazes like Brenda, Sonya, Aris, ect. Minho's on the track team (obviously) and reader is on the debate team.

Word count: 4.4k

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You were in your junior year in high school, and you had already gotten a couple months into the school year. It was early October and the weather began to change, becoming slightly colder and colder each day. You could feel a cold gust of wind hit your face as you walked out of your school's double doors. You walked over and lent on one of the pillars your school had built in front of the main entrance as you began to slip your phone out of your pocket.

You only had one new notification from Brenda which read,

'sorry girl I won't be able to pick u up tdy. I got an email a couple of hours ago from my mom saying that I needed to pick her up from work because her car broke down, so I wont be able to work on our social studies project. Sry!'

You honestly didn't bother to read anything after the 'won't be able to pick u up tdy' part. What were you supposed to do now? You didn't have that many other friends you could just text and get them to pick you up. It's not like you were unpopular or didn't have many friends, you actually were quite known around school. It would be relatively hard for someone to hear your name and not know who you were. After all you were head of the student council, captain of the debate team and on your way to being valedictorian next year. So needless to say, you were far from being unpopular. Although you always preferred having a small group of really close friends, though you were friends or friendly, with many other people in your grade.

Unfortunately, you weren't quite close enough with any of your other friends to just text them and ask them for a ride out of the blue.

And almost as if being stranded at school couldn't get any worse, you look at your battery percent and see, oh great, 1 percent. You shut your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose, taking a second to curse at yourself for forgetting to charge it last night while you were sleeping.

But you calm yourself, thinking that it'll be fine. You'll get a ride home someway or another, right?

Well you thought wrong.

Right when you look back at your phone screen, its black. You stare at your phone, jaw dropped, continuously clicking at the power button, but to no avail the screen stays pitch black, leaving you to stare at your reflection wondering, 'how the actual fuck did I manage to be this unlucky.'

You tuck your phone back into your bag and you realize you really only have one way of getting home. Walking.

Wow this is just so amazing because of course this happens the day you get out at 5:30 because of a debate competition. Meaning you had to wear black heals and tights, paired with a tight pencil skirt that only went up to your mid-thigh, and a black blazer with a white undershirt that revealed more of your chest than you wanted it to.

Majority of the outfit was borrowed from Brenda, and you had changed into it at the end of school. Giving the clothes you were wearing the whole day to her because you didn't want to carry them around. The plan was for her to bring the bag of your clothes with her as she came to pick you up after your debate comp and drive you both back to your place to work on your project, where you would swap the clothes back.

Was it a semi overcomplicated plan? Yes. It definitely was, and you were now cursing at yourself once again because of it.

However, right as you come to terms painstakingly long and difficult journey you're going to have ahead of you, someone behind you speaks up.

"Hey (Y/N). What are you still doing here?" A familiar voice says, sending shivers down your spine. You could recognize that voice anywhere and you didn't have to turn around knowing that the person behind you was Minho. Godamint of course it was him, the dude who had been picking on you since kindergarten, the dude who you hated, and also the dude who got surprisingly hot over the summer. He was by far the last person you wanted to run into after your day was already totally trashed.

You turn around slowly so you can face him and as you do, you see him towering over you. He looks like he'd recently stepped out of the shower with his wet and slightly towel dried hair. Minho was on the track team and you were aware that on Friday's and during most days of the week, he would stay at school late because of practice. And based off of his hair, you could assume that he showered in the locker room before heading home. You gave yourself another moment before responding, as you look at the grey sweatpants he's wearing as they lay low around his hips, and at the black compression shirt he had on which complimented his physic quite well by it's ability of defining his muscles.

God what were you thinking? You couldn't help but think he was hot. Even though he had made it his mission to annoy you ever since he laid his eyes on you.

"My debate competition just ended." You say dryly while snapping back into reality, shaking off what you were thinking of moments before.

He checks his watch before responding, "Oh right. But didn't that end like ten minutes ago?"

"Yeah.. it did." You confess, realizing that you had stayed here sulking for ten minutes when you could've just accepted your fate and given yourself a head start on walking home. And maybe then, you wouldn't have had to run into this guy.

"why are you still here then?" He asked in a confused tone that lacked little to no concern.

You glare at him for a second but before you can give your embarrassing answer, he speaks again.

"Hey I'm just wondering, no need to get all mad. I just thought that you would've had a ride by now, princess." He says with a grin forming on his face while he puts both of hands up as if he's surrendering. He's clearly trying to do anything he can to get some sort of reaction out of you, and he knew that by using his little nickname he'd made for you at the start of the year, he'd get just that.

"Well actually if you could just shut up for a second then I would've been able to answer you." You snapped at him before continuing, your voice much softer now out of embarrassment, "I um, I don't actually have a ride. Both my parents are out of town for the weekend and Brenda bailed on me so I'm probably just going to walk."

"Really? Dressed like that?" He questions with a chuckle while teasing you and gesturing to your outfit. However he can't help but blush when he see's you dressed the way that you are. Most of the time you tend to wear sweatshirts and baggy clothing, but seeing you in clothing that complimented you curves- wow- It didn't fail to catch Minho off guard.

"Well, what other choice do I have?" You say as your words come out slightly more desperate then intended.

"I could give you a ride if you want." Minho responded, and Minho shocked himself just as much as he had shocked you by saying this.

You and Minho I have seen each other a lot this year because you both actually shared a decent amount of classes together. Although everybody knew him as being super athletic and really popular, he was a lot smarter than people, (a.k.a, you), gave him credit for. And even since you both had known each other since forever, the sudden offer was still odd. Considering how hostile you were to each other obviously.

"I'm not sure. I bet I can just walk home."

"Seriously? You'd probably give up walking home in those heels a mile in." He said with a chuckle, slightly mocking you but you choose to ignore it.

You roll your eyes at him, "Fine." you say with a huff while you both begin walking into the parking lot. "where's your car?"

"Who said I'd be driving you home in a car?" He responds as he tries to fish something out from his sweatpants' pocket, and when he finally pulled out what he was looking for, you see him hold up a key.

You look at him confused until you keep walking with him and see that you're headed towards a black motorcycle.

"Oh absolutely not." You say as you immediately stop in your tracks and Minho walks over a couple more steps and unlocks it.

"Come on it's just a motorcycle."

"Dude are you serious. Do you know how many people die on those things yearly?"

"No, how many?" he asks while looking at you with a smirk, already able to sense your bluff.

"I don't know- but probably a lot!" You answered because of course you don't actually knowing how many deaths motorcycles cause, but you thought it was safe to assume that they caused many.

"Thank you for the offer, but I think I should just start walking home now if I want to make it before it gets dark out." you say while walking past Minho and his stupid motorcycle. But Minho grabs your wrist before you can walk away any further. Feeling his skin on yours sends a jolt of electricity through your body. You turn around to face him and he keeps his hand on your wrist but his grip softens.

"Do you even know the forecast for today? It's supposed to start storming around six, and I don't think you want to get caught walking home in the rain right?" After he says that you look up at the sky and see that it's already being filled up by dark and angry clouds that could start raining down on you and Minho at any second, then you look back at his motorcycle.

Minho takes in your silence and speaks again, "Look, if you don't make your decision in the next five seconds then I'm leaving with or without you alright? I really can't be driving while it storms so I'll need to drop you off as soon as I can if I want to be able to make it home too."

"Alright fine." You say as you sigh, clearly defeated.

Minho leads you back to his motorcycle and sits down, his bag slung over his shoulders and onto his chest rather than on his back so that you can sit behind him. You tell him how to get to your house and you mutter a silent prayer as you sit down behind him, hoping he doesn't notice how far your skirt is riding up your thighs.

You aren't quite sure where to place your hands so you opt to cross them at your chest. Minho adjusts himself and turns his head slightly so you can here him better, "You know, you might want to hold onto me while I drive."

"I think I'll be fine." you snap at him.

"Suit yourself then." He shrugs as he faces forwards and presses on the gas, much faster than you expected.

You let out a yelp and immediately you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling yourself closer into his back, and you basically cling on to him as if your life depends on it. You dig the side of your head into his back and shut your eyes.

You can already tell he has a wolfish grin spread across his face as he says, "What did I tell you?"

"Yeah, ok whatever I-I get it I should've listened." you blurt out quickly, not trying very hard to disguise the fear in your voice. Minho slows down as he leaves the parking lot of your school and he realizes that he can feel you trembling.

"Hey, hey, its okay. I'll be more careful alright?" He says in a caring tone while he places one of his hands on your knee.

"Just... please go slow Minho." You reply as you hug onto him even tighter.

"I will princess don't worry. I promise I'll get you home safe." He says while thanking god that you can't see how red he's getting. Something about the way you had said his name altered something in his brain chemistry and he would do anything to hear you say it again. And you on the other hand felt that he was being genuine when he said that he'd keep you safe, and it really did sound like he cared. It only took seconds for your face to get as red as a tomato and though you were glad he couldn't see you, you were praying he couldn't feel how hot your cheek was getting on his back.

Your grip on his stayed just as tight and if not tighter for the remainder of the ride home. Although, during every stop you would loosen your grip slightly and Minho would place his hand down by your knee or lower thigh again, rubbing his thumb in circles on your skin which never failed to give you butterflies in your stomach each time he did so.

The silence between the both of you hadn't been awkward at all, if anything, it was quite comforting. Being in each others presence was enough for the both of you. And if anything, the quietness allowed you to think about Minho and how you felt about him now.

Though you didn't really want to admit it, something about the way he was acting towards you now, made you see a very different side of him, and it gave you a reason to like him. But then again this is Minho your talking about. He could have any girl he wanted, practically the entire female population at your school flocked to him. But you are thinking about this as if you don't have boys coming up to you, trying to talk to you at your locker every day. Or like Gally in particular hasn't been begging for you to tutor him since freshman year.

Regardless of the amount of times boys came up to you, you always rejected them, because you had never really felt that way for anyone. Except right now. Because you could practically feel yourself falling harder and harder for Minho every second.

Little did you know that Minho was thinking the exact same way about you, and though he would rather die than admit it to anyone, he's liked you for the longest time.

Do you guys ever remember getting bullied by a guy back in elementary school, and when you told your parents about it they were just like 'oh its just because he has a crush on you!' well that was Minho. Minho was that little boy tormenting you all those years ago because he had the fattest crush on you and just didn't know how to express it. And he never grew out of that habit either. Sure when you guys grew up he would still pick and tease on you but he'd kept getting bolder and bolder, hoping you'd pick up on it one day.

A sudden drop of water on your heads knocked you and Minho out of your thoughts and snapped you back to reality.

"Shit." Minho mumbled under his breath. You finally peaked for head up a bit and opened your eyes to see that he was driving into your neighborhood but it was too late. The light sprinkles of rain soon turned into a downpour after mere seconds. Minho quickly pulled into your drive way and you unbuttoned your blazer and put it over your head to try and keep you at least a little dry until you reached the front door. You got up from your seat and only made it a couple steps forward towards your house until you realized Minho wasn't following you.

"What are you waiting for? Do you want to stay out in the rain and get drenched?" I asked him.

"You don't want me to leave?" He questioned, a bit of hope surged through him, making him think that maybe you didn't hate him as much as he thought.

"Leave? You can't leave now, do you see how hard it's raining? Never mind that, you said that it was going to storm and I can't let you drive home knowing you could just get struck by lightning or some shit." You explain, trying to make it seem as if you didn't care about him, but you definitely did care and you sucked at not making it obvious.

Minho couldn't even respond, he just stared at you, a grin forming at the edge of his lips.

"Can you- stop looking at me like that! Just come inside before I change my mind." You say, turning away and heading straight to the door because you can already feel your cheeks getting red and you don't need to hear Minho's snarky remarks over it.

Minho wouldn't be lying if he said he was a bit flustered too because he hadn't expected you to say what you just said- I mean, inviting him into your house? Minho was absolutely over the fucking moon.

He dashed into the house and got in right after you did, shutting the door behind him. You set down your bag and began taking off your heels before facing Minho. He also dropped his bag and took off his shoes. He looked at you as you cleared your throat.

"Thank you, for um, driving me. Sorry I got kinda freaked out." you say, the redness in your cheeks this time weren't because you were flustered but rather because you were embarrassed. As you looked down, expecting Minho to make fun of you over the way you clung onto him, he takes your chin in his hand and moves it up slightly so that you're now looking at him.

"There's no need to apologize princess."

you just stared at him, too shocked to move because of the contact he'd made with you. Even though you both could've stayed in that position forever, you moved your head to the side, severing the eye contact you and Minho were making, and making him take his hand from your chin.

Immediately Minho began cursing at himself for being so bold. I mean it was amazing enough that you invited him into your house but he totally just ruined it. He just couldn't wait any longer for you, but he got impatient. At least that's what his overthinking ass assumed.

"Minho, I-" you started. You were taken aback by the action but it's not like you didn't like it. In all the years of teasing he had never been that bold or genuine. You couldn't tell if he was still just messing with you for fun.

"No, that was- look I dunno why I did that. I didn't.." He scoffed while looking away.

"Minho look at me." you said while turning your face to look at him again.

He just silently took his hand away from his face and looked at you.

"What's been up with you this year? It's like, you keep teasing me, but then you call me princess and do things like this- It's just- what's your deal? I can't tell if you still hate me, or if you like me or something." You blurt out, way more intensely then you had expected. You couldn't tell if this was just a whole joke or not, like if he really just found pleasure by getting some sort of reaction out of you. Whether that be you getting flustered, or annoyed at him.

"No I don't- I don't hate you at all (Y/N)." He paused while sighing. "This is going to sound stupid but I've liked you since before I can even remember. I just never knew how to tell you, so I just tried to get more bold, and hope that maybe you would catch on, I guess."

You just stared at him with a dumbfounded look on your face, not quite too sure if you were hearing him correctly. But he seemed so sincere, you really wanted to believe he was telling the truth.

"God okay I never should've said anything. I'm sorry, that was all so stupid. I'll leave right when the rain lets up-" Minho barely finished what he was saying as you leaned in and grabbed his shirt, pulling him into you as your lips merged with his.

After a moment of him not reciprocating you pulled away, "I'm sorry I thought-" But before you could say anything else Minho began kissing you again.

You melted into his touch as he slid his arms around your waist and pulled you into him closer. His grip around you was firm as he held onto you as if you could just slip away if he didn't hold on tight enough. You flung your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss between the both of you. It had started out gentle and soft but it only got more and more desperate and passionate as time went on.

"I like you too." You mumbled against his lips between kisses, and at this Minho only became more and more hungry for you. You allowed his tongue to explore every inch of your mouth, and he grew desperate for your taste.

All while holding the kiss he lifted you up by your hips and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he pushed you into a nearby wall in your house.

He kept one of his arms on your waist while the other slid down your shirt and up your back, his cold fingers traced around your spine which only made you arch your back further into him. A slight moan escaped you which only made Minho tighten around his pants. You could feel him harden between your legs, and considering your skirt was far up your thighs by now, and your tights and panties only provided a thin layer of clothing between the both of you. You could feeling yourself throbbing down there as well.

Minho could tell by the way you were fiddling with the hem of his shirt that you were trying to take it off him. Minho pulled away and removed his hands from you and tossed off his shirt, leaving you to stare at his amazing physic.

I mean come on, the guy looked like he had been carved out of stone.

You both took no time at all to crash your lips onto each others again as your hands began to roam all over his chest. He took both of his hands and placed them on your ass in order to keep you propped up on the wall as he continued to pepper your lips with kisses.

He bit against your bottom lip causing you to moan again, but a phones ringtone of the song 'Eye of the Tiger' interrupted you and Minho from continuing.

He murmured a curse to himself and you giggled as he took his phone out of his pocket and answering the call and putting it on speaker. He used one hand to hold his phone as he kept the other on your ass.

You took this as an opportunity to start kissing down Minho's neck, moving down to his collar bone and sucking on it, making sure it would leave a mark. This caused Minho to make a soft groan but since the call was still connecting, the other person wasn't able to hear it.

"Dude where the fuck are you? You were supposed to come over after your practice to help me with our Latin assignment." The very clearly annoyed boy with a British accent questioned. You could tell it was Newt immediately, I mean, not many people have who go to schools in America have British accents.

"I'm sorry I got kind of caught up with something." Minho huffed out. Clearly trying to hide his moans as you continues to leave a trail of kisses and marks along his chest and neck.

"Holy shit you sound like you've just ran a marathon. Wait are you even at home right now?" He asks, this time much more confused then he was before.

"Uh no- I'm not at home right now."

"Then were the fuck are you?"

"At a- friends house."

"Which friends house?" Newt was interrogating Minho as if they were a married couple and Newt caught Minho coming home at 3am smelling of liquor and another women's perfume.

"I'm at (Y/N)'s house.." He said softly, hoping his friend would maybe keep his cool after he said this.

"Hi Newt!" You chime in after leaving several knew hickeys on Minho's neck.

"Jesus Christ I knew it. You've liked her for years! Good job Minho, you finally had the balls to tell her." You hear Newt laugh along with several other people in the background.

"Godamit Newt who else is with you?" Minho says, his face growing redder every second.

"Oh you know, Thomas, Gally, Fry, Alby." He says while trailing off.

Just then you can hear someone grab Newts phone on the other line, "Just letting you know (Y/N) you could do so much better." He says while everyone else with him chuckles, and you can tell it was Gally who said it.

"Oh shut it Gally. Your just mad because she chose me over you. And maybe this way you'll finally get the hint and stop asking her to tutor your dumbass." Minho snaps at him, his protective and jealous tone turning you on way more then you thought.

After Minho says that you can hear everyone on the other line burst out laughing, and even you let out a bit of a laugh afterwards as well.

You can hear Newt take back the phone and say, "Alright we'll leave you to it." as he hangs up the phone.

You look back at Minho as he puts his phone away. "What if I do want to start tutoring Gally?" You say with a smirk as you tilt your head to the side, teasing Minho.

"Oh please. Your mine now princess and I'm not letting Gally, or anyone else for that matter, anywhere near you." He says, and even though he's ginning while he says it, you can tell that he's being completely serious. "Now where were we?"

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ok guys this is it!! plz lemme know if u liked it or if theres anything you guys think I should work on/ do better whenever I write these in the future. Also if u guys want to give me any other prompts for me to write, or if yall want a pt. 2 with yk smth a lil more spicy then tell me

#minho #minho tmr #minho the maze runner #minho tmr x reader #enemies to lovers #the maze runner #tmr fanfic #tmr fandom

[yourtouchismidas]

In honor of the new atpoaim part imagine a part where Matty is talking about Gigi and how she and the missus have made his life better (not in a lot of detail ofc for privacy)

the camera shakes from behind the trees. matty knows it is there, of course, he asked for it. but he pretends he doesnt. the black and white doesn't show the fact it is a sunny day. it looks over cast. it is chilly though. matty sits next to adam on a park bench. one of those traditional wooden ones. dedicated to someone. matty reads out the plaque when they sit down, "to doris, who loved this park and everyone in it." he laughs. "jesus," he says, "that couldnt be more cliche if it tried." adam chuckles, but his eyes don't leave the far off place he has been watching throughout the video.

matty's eyes have joined him. the watch in silence for a while. you can hear some birds. some high pitched squeals of children.

"gigi!" matty yells. "gigi, get down from that... you aren't supposed to climb..."

then matty is gone, off from the bench and out of screen. adam is laughing, softly. he watches. then matty comes back into shot, straightens his coat. their breath puffs in the air in front of them.

"this kid will be the death of me," he tells adam. adam lets out a non committal hum.

"kids are wild, huh?" he says.

"yup," matty says. he shoves his hands back in his pockets. "she's also the life of me though."

there is a cut. time has passed. we don't know what was said in that time, if anything. or if the dad's just watched the kids play. matty is speaking.

"i never thought i could do it," he says.

"what? be a dad?" adam says.

"yeah."

"well we all knew that."

"what?" matty says.

"that you didnt think you could do it. soon as your missus got pregnant it was all we heard about. for months."

"it's a scary thing."

"it is," adam agrees. "i think it was different for you though. because. you know. she was..."

"an accident," matty says.

adam scoffs, "well i wasnt going to say those words."

"i know you weren't. you're too polite. but let's call a spade a spade. that's my beautiful little accident."

he points off screen. the children are yelling. screeching. having the time of their lives. there is another jump cut.

"nothing prepares you though does it? for like, how much you're gonna love them."

"hmm" adam nods.

"like, you think you know love."

"and you dont."

"and you dont. until you hold that little baby in your arms."

there is another pause and then matty talks again.

"i mean i never thought i would love anyone like i love, this one's mum. i was so lucky really."

as he speaks he scuffs his foot in the gravel, looking down.

"i got not one, but two surprise girls. mother and baby."

adam nods.

"fuck me i'm lucky."

"we didnt think anyone would have you," adam says, for the first time looking round at him and grinning. matty rolls his eyes but he nods.

"me neither," he says, "but someone from thinking no one would have me, i got the one. you believe in that?"

adam frowns, thinking. matty doesnt give him a chance to answer.

"well i do. i do since her anyway."

we watch them for a little while longer, their faces pretty blank, looking out at the park. suddenly, both their faces change, they lean forward, their smiles grow huge, and two little people run up to them and into their respective father's arms, faces hidden by coat hoods and scarves, camera facing the back of them. we watch as they embrace their children, then it cuts to black before another scene.

#ruins #ruins behind the scenes #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty healy x y/n #matty healy fanfiction #dad!matty

[msmcnevertweet]

GHOULBOYS - Where ghosts are real, or not I guess.

GHOULBOYS is a one-shot horror/comedy TTRPG for 3 players. It's about amateur paranormal investigators hunting for ghosts in supposedly haunted locales, interpreting evidence and bullshitting with their friends. I made this one! I love ghost things! Let's talk about them! But first...

Will we finally answer the question... are ghosts real?

Inspired by shows and games like Ghost Files, Buzzfeed Unsolved: Supernatural, Phasmophobia and Most Haunted, you'll play as one of three classes:

The BELIEVER, trying to uncover evidence that the paranormal is real, and detail the nature of the supposed haunting.

The SCEPTIC, who believes that everything has a reasonable explanation, and the idea of ghosts is kinda funny. 

The PRODUCER, who’s recording this whole thing, and looking out for what the other two might miss.

It's a GMless game where you and your two friends fuck around in abandoned buildings with spirit boxes, motion sensors, and turn the gain up on your microphone incredibly loudly to hear what might, maybe have someone saying half a word.

If that sounds cool, it's $5 until the end of the month!

My friends it is time to peer closely at a blurry photo

YES IT'S TIME FOR MORE SELF INDULGENCE BELOW THE CUT.

(Potential) Spoilers for: Ghostwatch and The Blair Witch Project.

Bro bro bro did you see that bro BRO

When I was a teen posessed by the grim specter of an idea known as "Thinking I was a guy", I used to get very stoned and sit in cars with my friends and drive around at night. Being stoned with The Lads was a good way of pretending I wasn't possessed, I guess.

One time we drove to a supposedly haunted stretch of road; the story was that a woman who lived nearby had gone out onto the road late at night and been hit by a car and killed. If you drove along that road at the time of her death, you might see her, wearing the nightgown she died in.

After about an hour of driving up and down the road, we were about to give up. The driver swung into a driveway to turn the car around, and out of the pitch blackness, I saw it. White, twisted, grasping. It was just a flash, but I know what I saw. I screamed, my friends screamed, the tires of the car screamed as they span griplessly on the tarmac for that endless split second before it pulled away.

Yes of course it was a fucking tree. But for at least 5 minutes, we all believed I'd seen her. As plain as day, a dead woman in a nightgown had grasped at me on the other side of the windscreen through the darkness. The real fear lasted seconds. The adrenaline lasted a few minutes. The laughs lasted for a while afterwards.

I don't believe in ghosts. But the idea of them has the power to make us conjure them. We stare at the fuzzy frozen frame of video and think we can see a form, a face. We listen to the overpowering static hum of a shotgun mic pointed into a hallway and swear we hear a voice. We peer into the darkness, and our brains connect the dots we've decided are there. We want to be scared, especially when we can laugh about it afterwards.

It's just the Pipes

If you know the Orson Welles' War of the Worlds radio broadcast, Ghostwatch pulls a similar trick. It's 1992, you've sat down to watch a live TV show doing a "scientific investigation" into a haunted suburban home with Big Name TV News Guy Michael Parkinson, Big Name TV "Robot Wars" Guy Craig Charles, and a bunch of other Big Name TV people I don't really know.

The house is supposedly possessed by a malevolent evil spirit who the homeowners kids call Pipes. They hear banging noises at night, their mom tells them "It's just the pipes." Watch along at home, phone in using the number on your screens with your ghost stories, and you know, just in case you maybe see anything on the footage that we might miss.

It's staged, of course, and staged incredibly. It's very fucking creepy. Kitchy, mundane 90's TV gives way slowly to creeping dread that never seems to stop creeping, eventually arriving at a terminus of full on Blair Witch surrealness. It drew so many complaints from people whose children were turned to traumatised wrecks that it was banned from being broadcast for 10 years.

Probably because the newscaster they saw on TV every day turned, in the course of about half an hour, from this

To this

There's not really many clips on youtube but trust me, it's good. It's slow. Give it a chance, you should watch it.

Josh? Is that you down there?

There's so many jokes about The Blair Witch Project, but that's not because it's bad. I mean, it IS kind of bad, and that's the point. Heather, Josh and Mike are just amateur film makers making a documentary on a shoestring budget, about the mystery of the Blair Witch, the details of which matter little to what happens next. The jokes are attempts by people trying to break the hold the film has on them. But it holds on tight.

It works so well because it's so sparse. The minimal, natural sets, the handheld footage, the we're-not-even-really-acting-I'm-actually-kinda-just-creeped-out performances. The characters talk like convincingly kinda shitty people, deal with getting lost like real people, argue like convincingly scared people. It explains nothing about the greater mystery, cares not for any attempt to make sense of what's going on, all it wants to do is slowly drag you to it's stark, screaming conclusion.

Like many successful horror films, it got a bunch of sequels which I've not seen, and don't care to. It doesn't need them.

Ok but what about real ghosts

There's something about a weird dollar store Trent Reznor and his bros crawling around a tourist spot that makes Ghost Adventures so fun to watch. Trant Reznot is out here shouting at ghosts with his whole chest like "I HEARD YOU DON'T LIKE BIG LIGHTS SHINING IN YOUR FACE HUH", and it's great. When the often questionable "activity" occurs, it's rarely actually spooky in any way, but the deadly serious way with which they describe the mote of light (read: dust particle) moving across the footage that it's endearing.

These shows (Most Haunted, 28 Days Haunted, et al) tend towards having a pseudo "intellectual" angle. Ghost Adventures doesn't care, it's listening to Tool in it's car outside the high school, passing you a joint and saying "Isn't it fucked up that people die, but like, aren't gone, man?" I can't tell if it doesn't take itself too seriously, or if it just doesn't really know how to be serious, but it's good.

Hey there demons, it's me... ya boi

I watched so much god damn Buzzfeed Unsolved through Covid. I watched it until the early hours of the morning, until I'd successfully creeped myself out to the point where I had to run from the living room to the bedroom in the dark to avoid the Texarkana Phantom Killer that my brain had successfully materialised just behind the back of my head.

Somehow Buzzfeed Unsolved Supernatural - it's sister show focused on.. well, supernatural stuff, and it's successor Ghost Files manages to be both scary, whilst also simultaneously very stupid and funny.

Both Shane and Ryan are always ready to be scared, but they're also both ready to laugh. They have a very endearing camaraderie too, like two kids in class trying to get the each other told off by the teacher, and despite the semi serious presentation, unlike Ghost Adventures they're not precious about trying to make sure you're scared. It invites you laugh and be afraid in equal measure, and it feels natural, especially in the early episodes. If Ryan is freaking out about the Waverly Hills Hospital body chute, it's because.. well.. watch the video? I would absolutely not go down there.

This tension between laughing and screaming drives the show. The balance between spooky-funny and spooky-scary is a delicate one. Ryan and Shane are great at knowing when to tip that balance, one way or the other.

It's easily the single biggest influence on Ghoulboys (I mean, of course it is?) because of this. When playing, you're always caught in this in-between moment that the Ghoulboys themselves do so well. Waiting for something to fall over, the spirit box to speak, the SLS scanner to show a fleeting figure. Whether it's scary or silly, your brain is waiting for it, ready to draw the shapes of ghosts we want to see.

Thank you for coming to my Ghost TED Talk

Man ghost stuff is so good, real or fake. I just wanted to make a funny game that occasionally made you raise your eyebrows and look at each other like "Oh, shit..." and had lots of stupid ghost hunting equipment, and I think it worked out. Thanks for reading.

Again, if you want to check out Ghoulboys, it's $5 until the end of the month. Take a look! There's a video of me and some friends playing it!

#ttrpg #horror #indie ttrpg #buzzfeed supernatural #ghost files #paranormal #incredible self indulgence #Youtube #buzzfeed unsolved

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Title Prompt: I'll drop a few below and you can choose whichever gives you inspiration. And I'll let you choose SFW or NSFW, whichever suits your fancy.

- Intergalactic Tango

- Up All Night, Neon Lights

- 79s: Crash & Dash

Feel free to adjust the title to fit whatever inspiration you get. Have fun! 😘

Up All Night, Neon Lights

Summary: A night out with your friend leads to a daring rooftop fling.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Fives x reader, gn!reader so can be read as M/M or M/F, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), marking, creampie, exhibitionism, writer got caught up in the 'neon lights' part of the title prompt my bad, uhh I think that's everything?

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: I had so much fun with this!! This is my first time writing Fives so I hope I did him justice. Thanks for the prompt, @523rdrebel <3

You have no idea what’s gotten into you tonight.

But you don’t really care. 

Giddy laughter bubbling up in your chest, you stumble as the trooper tugs you along by hand. He throws you a charming smirk over his shoulder. Cold rain pelts down on the two of you as you sprint through puddled Coruscanti streets, plastering your clothing to your body, seeping into your bones. Despite that, and despite the odd looks thrown your way as you push past pedestrians who were sensible and brought raincoats and umbrellas with them, all you want to do is stop and turn your face skyward, catch the rain in your mouth, bathe in the distorted neon reflections. 

Because tonight has been nothing but neon. First the bar that your roommate had dragged you to, the giant LED screen emblazoned with a technicolor 79s, the inside as richly lit with oranges and pinks and whites; then the second bar you hopped to, a small company of clone troopers following like groupies, illuminated by vivid reds and blues; and now, sprinting through this side-street marketplace, aqua and magenta lights dazzle your eyes. You feel just as multicolored on the inside, a riot of sensations and emotions and needs. 

“C’mon, mesh’la,” the trooper says with a deep chuckle. “Let’s get you out of the rain.” 

“But Fiiiiives,” you whine, just the slightest bit tipsy, pouting your bottom lip in a way you hope makes you look cute and not like a mess, “I like the rain.” 

He glances back to you, the neon shining in his dark eyes, black curls slick with rainwater. A devilish grin tugs at his lips—lips you’ve been trying not to stare at all night, trying not to imagine what they feel like against yours, on your skin, between your legs. The look he gives you is inscrutable, a mask of bravado and sex, one that you’re desperate to rip off and see what he’s hiding underneath.

Yeah. You really don’t know what’s gotten into you. 

When your roommate convinced you to go clubbing with her tonight, you’d been a little skeptical. Bars are most decidedly not your scene. But she had come prepared with receipts: the immense amount of stress you’ve been under at work, even in a low-level senators’ office; the messy breakup you survived just a few months ago; and the fact that you promised her a night out. With all the evidence stacked against you, there really hadn’t been any other answer but, “Where are we going?” 

And when you’d arrived at 79s, hours ago now, you’d been a little overwhelmed by the abundance of clone troopers in attendance. Sure, you’ve interacted with a few clones just by virtue of your job. But in those instances, they always had their helmets on, and you most certainly tried to avoid attracting attention in your day-to-day life. The goal, your friend assured you, was to attract as much attention as possible. She’d styled your face and clothing in a way that drew the eye exactly where she—and you, you supposed—wanted people to look.

It had worked. You hadn’t paid for a single drink all night, not that you had many. Multiple troopers took their shot, but really, it was the cocky, self-assured one with a ‘5’ tattoo and goatee that caught your eye. The one whose half-smirk over the rim of his glass promised no-strings fun, if that’s what you wanted. He’d drawn you in with those dark, shining eyes, and now, gazing into them with rain pouring into yours, you swallow against the rush of arousal that surges within you.

The rain subsides; for a moment you think the storm has passed. Looking up, you realize you’ve moved under an awning, the corrugated metal drumming loudly in the downpour. Panting, you squeeze Fives’s hand as you slow to a walk, and finally to a halt, to catch your breath. 

You give him a breathless smile. His teeth flash in the technicolor lights as he smiles in return, pushing his curls off of his forehead. Your heart skips at the sight, like a lovesick teenager. Biting your lip, you shuffle your feet, butterflies beating their wings against your insides.

“Kriff, mesh’la,” Fives chuckles. “You’re dangerous, you know that?” 

Blinking in surprise, you quirk an eyebrow. “Is that so?” 

He nods, sliding an arm around your shoulders. “Fun, charming, attractive. I like that.” 

“Good,” you hum. His body heat is a welcome respite from the clinging cold, and you boldly snake your arm around his waist and pull him closer. “But I think all of those words describe you better.” 

He tips your face up with one gloved finger under your chin. You gasp at how close he is, his face inches from yours—and this close, you think you can see past the cocky mask he wears, glimpse the man beneath, the one who dreams and wants and needs and cries and loves. Gulping, you can’t help the way your eyes flick down to his lips. 

You know he noticed, his mouth pressing into a small smile.

“I know they say opposites attract, but...” He trails off. His dark eyes study your face, tracing every feature, before settling on your mouth. “Well, personally I’ve always preferred someone like me.” 

“And what are you like, Fives?” you breathe, tilting your head, drawing closer to him. 

He grips your chin between thumb and forefinger, nostrils flaring as he takes a breath. “Insatiable.” 

A noise escapes you, somewhere between a moan and a gasp. He leans down, eyes never leaving yours until your noses bump. He holds there, his breath fanning your face—giving you a chance to pull away if you want. 

You don’t. Tightening your grip around his waist, you slot your lips against his, eyes sliding shut with a proper moan. His hand cups your face, holding you against him. You lick his bottom lip and nudge his mouth open. Droplets of water kiss over your skin as you nearly devour one another, tongues meeting hot and wet. Stabilizing yourself on his chest with one hand, your knees quake at the vibrations of his growl against your palm. 

When he breaks the kiss, he pants, resting his forehead against yours, a surprisingly bashful smile gracing his features. “That was...wow.” 

You can’t even form words, simply giggling in agreement. He looks gorgeous like this, a blush high on his cheeks and wet skin shimmering in the light of neon. Your hand wanders from his chest up, up, up into his hair, still soaked and dripping, your nails lightly scratching over his scalp. With a shudder, his eyes screw shut. 

“You wanna get outta here?” 

“And go where?” You swallow, trying to think through the haze his kiss brought on. “I’m not even sure where ‘here’ is.” 

He chuckles. “Well, the barracks are too far, and I’d bet my entire pension that your friend has one of my brothers back at your apartment.”

“I thought clones don’t get pensions?” 

There’s that smirk again, the one that makes you feel like only you and him are privy to an inside joke. “Exactly.” 

You snort in what you’re sure is a very unattractive manner, but Fives’s smirk broadens to a genuine smile. His thumb rubs circles on your back. 

“My question still stands, then,” you say. 

He hums, the sound rumbling pleasantly under your palm, sending tingles up your arm. “I have an idea. Can I show you something?” 

The way he asks it, like he’s asking permission for something beyond kissing you again or even fucking you, makes your stomach flip. “Of course.”

That roguish glint in his eyes once again, he removes himself from your embrace and, taking your hand, steps back into the rain. You gasp at the shock, the water feeling even colder against your heated skin. You follow him wordlessly as he wends his way around midnight market-goers, tramps through puddles, and finally pushes open a creaky door at the base of a skyscraper. 

“We can take the lift,” he says, “but we have to climb a few floors first.”

So, a few flights of stairs later, you stand winded in a lift, soft music chiming from hidden speakers. As soon as the doors slide shut, you lock eyes with Fives, fluttering your eyelashes at him. 

“Are you gonna kiss me or what, trooper?” you ask, voice pitched low. 

He closes the distance in two long strides. Back pressed flush to the lift wall, you gasp as he braces one arm above your head, his other hand hiking your leg up over his hip. “Thought you’d never ask.” 

His mouth is on yours before you can even think of a response, wiping all thought from your mind. You grind your heated core against him. When he licks into your mouth, you whimper, core throbbing with desire. Your hands can’t find a spot to rest, gripping his biceps, squeezing his ass, tugging his hair, cupping his half-hard dick. He bucks against your hand, groaning into your mouth. 

Neither of you break apart when the lift dings and the doors slide open. Only the sound of someone clearing their throat, obviously annoyed, jolts you out of the lustful daze you’ve sunk into. Face growing hot, you lower your leg back to the ground and keep your eyes down as the other person steps into the lift. Fives shoots you a smug wink; you cough to cover the giggles that rise up and try to escape.

The rest of the ride to the top floor is silent and awkward, but Fives’s finger tracing mindless patterns on the back of your hand makes it hard to care. As soon as the doors open again, you’re pulling him out of the lift and into the hallway. 

You’re both laughing before the lift even closes again. Doubled over, buzzing with embarrassment and desire, you slump against the nearby wall until the fit passes. Fives wipes tears from his eyes. 

“Did you see their face?” he asks.

“No,” you groan, burying your own into your hands. “I only saw their shoes.” 

He guffaws. “I get the feeling this isn’t the first time they’ve witnessed, ah, certain activities in their building.” 

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” you say. “But enough about them. What is it you wanted to show me?”

Eyes twinkling with mischief, Fives gestures down the hall to the door labeled ‘ROOF ACCESS.’ With a grin, you dart to the door and shove it open. You take the stairs two at a time and emerge, breathless, to a rain-slicked rooftop.

You move to the edge without thinking. Leaning your forearms on the permacrete wall that lines the edge, you crane your head over to look down. The vertical drop to the streets below makes your head swim, but you find you like the sensation, falling without moving. The rain has begun to lighten up, coming in a drizzle now. From this height, the glow of neon lights melds into a smooth gradient, like someone took a giant brush and blended the colors together. Lights flash and strobe and glitter as far as you can see, stretching to the horizon. 

Fives wraps his arms around you from behind. His warmth is welcome, and you lean back against him. 

“It’s gorgeous up here,” you say. “Thank you.” 

He hums. “Not as gorgeous as you, mesh’la.” 

You laugh, squeezing his hands where they rest over your waist. “Please. Look at all that.” 

“I am,” he says. “I see it. And I see you.” 

Breath hitching, you turn around in his grasp until your back presses against the low wall. Peering up into his dark eyes, you catch another glimpse of the softness he’s hiding, and it makes you melt. You caress his face, relishing in the way he leans into your touch, his eyes shut, brow smooth and unworried. 

“Fuck me,” you say, bolder than you expected of yourself. 

His eyes fly open. “Here?”

“Why not?” 

His chest heaves with sudden excitement, and against your thigh, his cock stiffens again. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” 

He helps you shuck your clothing until you’re both completely naked under the clouds. The distant lights glisten on his damp skin. You rest your palm over the handprint tattoo on his pec, and he shudders. His eyes rake over your body, drinking you in, as you do the same to him. Water collecting in droplets on his skin, you trail your eyes over his toned abs, powerful thighs, veiny forearms, and heavy cock. You lick your lips in anticipation. 

His hand is scorching against your skin where he thumbs over your hip, pulling you closer. Bodies slotting together like two halves of a whole, you sigh in contentment. Slinging your arms loosely around his neck, you press your chest to his, your stiff nipples sensitive where they graze his skin. 

“Fives,” you plead. You don’t even know what you need, but you need him, need him to do something, give you his cock, give you his kisses.

“I’ve got you.” With a half smirk, he caresses your aching core, fingers nimble and firm against you. 

You keen brokenly, emboldened by your distance from the ground, letting your pleasure take control. Fives drops his head against your shoulder, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, as he works you up to the edge of bliss. Blindly, you reach for his hard length. You are rewarded with a deep groan as your fingers find purchase, wrapping around his velvety skin and pumping him slowly. 

“Fuck, mesh’la,” he whimpers. “Gonna make you feel so good.” 

“Yes,” you gasp. “Please, Fives, please.”

He bites down at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, sucking a mark into your skin as you writhe against him. Pleasure cresting within you, a thin wire pulling taut and molten in your belly, you moan to the sky. 

“Gonna- please, Fives—” 

His hand withdraws and he chuckles as you whimper at the loss. “Not yet,” he croons. “Need you to cum on my cock.” 

“Fuck, yes.” You hitch your leg around his waist again, presenting your neglected entrance for him. He prods against you, his tip flushed and leaking. Desperate, you spit into your free hand and coat his length with it, eyes locked on his. 

“Just like this,” he murmurs, and then he’s pushing into you, splitting you open at the seams and sewing you back together. Your head falls back, nails digging against his back. Your body tenses at the intrusion, but you love it, love the burn of the stretch, love the way that he fills you so completely, love the way his hand feels plays at your core as he gently rocks his hips up against your ass. 

“Kriff, mesh’la.” He presses his forehead against your chest, gripping your ass so tight you know you’ll have bruises that match his fingerprints. “So tight, so needy.” 

Shifting in his grasp, careful to not let his cock slip out, you prop yourself on the wall with your elbows, your upper half dangerously close to hanging over the edge. The danger makes your chest heave with excitement; the safety of Fives’s arms makes your core clench with need. His eyes find yours again, and he looks absolutely debauched. 

You tilt your head and catch his bottom lip between your teeth. His groan vibrates into your bones, slowly pulling that wire inside you tighter again. 

“Please fuck me, Fives,” you moan. “Please, need you to fucking ruin me.” 

Hips snapping against yours, he fucks you into oblivion, cock dragging against that shattering shard of heaven deep inside you. You cling to him, blinking away the rain, and scream your pleasure. The harder he fucks into you, the more your vision goes fuzzy, bursts of aqua and magenta and white neon blinding you to everything except Fives. His name becomes a chant, a prayer, tumbling from your lips in reverence. 

“Gonna cum,” you whine.

“Where should I—?” 

“Inside,” you cut him off. “Please. Need to feel your cum in me.” 

He bites you again, the pain blending with the pleasure so intensely that it shoves you over the edge of orgasm. Your entire body locks up as the cord inside you breaks. Molten, white-hot pleasure pulses through you, and you nearly black out, your release coating you both. 

Only Fives’s strong arms around you keep you upright as he ruts into you, chasing his own release. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—” He stills, shuddering, panting into your neck as his cock throbs in your tight heat, warmth blooming from the inside. 

“Yes.” You card your fingers through his hair. “Thank you.”

He chuckles, breathless, his eyes glazed as they meet yours. “I should be thanking you.” 

You grin, kissing him. “I can think of a few ways for you to do that.” 

“At least let me buy you dinner first.” 

You laugh morphs into a whine as he slips out of you, his cum dribbling down your inner thigh. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Taglist: @thorsterstrudle @anxiouspineapple99 @deejadabbles @starrylothcat @blueink-bluesoul @idontgetanysleep @wolffegirlsunite @wings-and-beskar @mandos-mind-trick @moonlightwarriorqueen @sunshinesdaydream @starqueensthings @littlemissmanga if I missed anyone pls lmk!

#fives x reader #arc fives x reader #arc trooper fives x reader #the clone wars reader insert #rhiwrites #up all night neon lights #requested content #rhiplies

[hoodharlow]

Birthday Revelations

AN: not me posting within the same week as part 9 🤭🤭🤭

Requested? This one scene for my bby Zooty

Warnings: angst Jack and Miriam argue in the first half but make up , brief mentions of smut, and nosy tiktokers

Miriam was in one of the guest rooms in Jack's house in Louisville sorting some of her clothes. They flew in last night from Miami. They had just gotten back from Jack’s work trip to Turks and Caicos. He got his dream collab with Drake and they recorded their song there. Miriam didn’t do much other than work on her tan, read her script for the movie role she auditioned for and got, and hang out with Adonis in the resort Drake rented out. 

“Are you ready?” Jack asked, popping his head in the room.

“No, I have no idea what to wear.” she sighed. She was in a Calvin Klein bra and panty set with one of Jack's flannels over it. 

“We’re having breakfast with my parents and grandma. I don’t think they care what you wear.” 

“Okay give me ten minutes.” she said, waving him out of the room. 

She decided on a Paco Robanne crystal net and chain-link dress from the fall 2019 collection to go on top of a black tight, long sleeve knit dress from Cult Gia. She finished off the look with her black Versace platform boots. Since it was still cold she was wearing the ACNE Studios leather shearling jacket Jack gave her.

Once she was ready, she disconnected her phone from the charger and slipped it in her jacket’s pocket. Lastly, she grabbed Jack’s present from one of her trunks. When they were in Miami, Katalina was there on a girls trip with her other model friends and dropped off a trunk for Miriam. It had more appropriate clothes for the cold Kentucky weather. She also stored Jack's present there because he was nosy and liked to go through her luggage. He was too jetlagged to even notice that Miriam had another bag with her. 

“Are you serious?” Jack asked her when she made her way, taking her in her disco ball look.

“What?” she asked. 

“You didn't have to dress so fucking extra, Miriam.” he said, opening the passenger door for her. 

Miriam was taken back by his comment. She knew she tended to over-dress for every occasion, even if she was being unintentional about it. So hearing Jack say that hurt her feelings because it was Miriam's thing. She used fashion as a way to express herself and she hates it when people dismiss it. 

Fashion was very time consuming and analytical. It's not just thinking something is cute and pairing it with something else and calling it a day. A lot goes into making a look, designing a clothing collection, planning a runaway show, a magazine lookbook or anything that has to do with fashion.  

Jack noticed the large box wrapped in the Cardinals logo with a red bow in the corner sitting on her lap. “What’s that?”

"Your present." She mumbled. 

"You okay?" He asked, noticing her demeanor change. 

"Yeah, I'm just jet lagged." 

She shifted in her seat and curled up aguant it, giving Jack her back. She pulled out her phone to check with her parents. While she was at it she posted a video of the Tesla Miriam drove in the Nail Tech video getting towed and Jack was laughing songard he couldn't breathe to her Instagram Stories. She also reposted Lil Nas X's birthday to post Jack. Specifically the slide. It was a picture of the three of them from Jack's birthday last year. Jack had his arm wrapped around her chest and she hugged his arm while his other arm was lazily around Nas's shoulders. 

She checked her texts and saw one from Jenna Ortega. She was asking if she could post a video of the three of them. It was from last year when she and Miriam were filming their show, which has been getting rave reviews (especially about Miriam because she was able to dominate the screen even though she had a recurring role). Miriam and Jenna were supposed to film a scene where they're at a high school party and a song they both like played in the background as they took shots. The director let Miriam pick the song so she chose SUNDOWN, but Jenna didn't know it. Coincidentally Jack had gone by to drop some snacks for Miriam so he taught Jenna the lyrics. He took the teacher role a bit too seriously and had the girls clutching their sides with how hard he was making them laugh. 

"Jenna wants to know if she could post the video she took from when you were teaching her the lyrics to SUNDOWN." She asked him, breaking their silence. 

"If you're okay with it." He said, turning to the street he used to live on. 

Miriam nodded and texted Jenna it was okay to post it. 

They reached his parents' house and exited the car. Jack noticed Miriam didn't wait for him to open the door for her. He quickly deduced she was mad at him based on that alone. He didn't know why, but it explained why when he tried to rest his hand on her thigh, she was facing toward the window. He watched her walk ahead of him and greet his family. He hugged his parents and grandma. 

When they all went inside, Miriam had disappeared. Monét, Clay's girlfriend, told him she excused herself and went upstairs to get something. While his mom and grandma set up the table, Jack snuck upstairs to check on Miriam. 

He walked in and found her folding the clothes she arrived in. For some reason she changed out of them into a pair of jeans and a black turtleneck shirt she had left with him. 

"Why did you change?" He asked her. 

"You said I was dressed extra." She said, not looking at him. 

"Are you seriously upset because I said you’re dressed extra?" Jack asked, chuckling in disbelief.

Miriam huffed angrily and quickly composed herself, saying, "I'm not gonna start something that's obviously going to lead to an argument at your parents' house."

*

After breakfast Jack and Miriam went back to his house to catch up on some rest because they had a long night ahead of them. First they were having dinner with Jack's family then they were going to meet with Jack's friends to celebrate him and Urban. 

Miriam gave him the silent treatment the whole drive home. When they got to his house, she went straight to the guest room. Jack, not in the mood to argue with her, retreated to his bedroom and napped. His sleep schedule was off from all the traveling they did in the last few days. But now it was time for them to get ready for dinner. 

He knocked on the guestroom door and poked his head. Miriam was laying in bed, watching Jersey Shore on her MacBook wrapped up in her blanket. 

"We have about two hours before we have to meet my parents for dinner." He said.

"I'm not going," she said, pulling the blanket over her head. 

"Why?" He furrowed his eyebrows. From what his mom said, Miriam was the one who made the reservations.

"I don't have anything to wear." She said still not looking at him. 

"What do you mean you have nothing to wear?" He asked confused, looking around the room full of clothes. 

"I don't have anything that isn't 'extra'." She finger quoted as she got off bed.

'Not this shit again' he thought to himself when she brought up 'extra' once more. He rubbed his temples. "Why are you so upset? They're just clothes."

"They're not just clothes to me!" She yelled, frustrated. "You obviously don't get that because half of the time you're dressed like a gym teacher dresses like he tries too hard and the other times you get clothes picked out for you. I could easily go off talking about your music, but I won't because I respect you enough not to talk out of my ass about something I don't understand but is important to you."

She took his silence as a response and got back in bed. She pulled the blanket over her and pressed play in her show. 

Jack, not wanting to make her even more upset, left the room. He pulled out his phone and texted Mede. She got upgraded from friend's baby mama to assistant because of how organized she is and was able to help Miriam sort her traveling schedule. He wrote that he upset Miriam by calling her clothes 'extra' and he needed help to fix things. Mede replied with her go-to Jerry meme where the mouse made a 'you're joking' look. Seconds later she sent him a series of articles from various fashion magazines. 

What caught his attention was that all the articles were written by Miriam. The first one that was published was from 2016 for Cosmopolitan Mexico and the most recent was for Vanity Fair posted a few days after The Batman premiere they attended. Jack skimmed them all. He was caught off guard at how articulate Miriam was. Obviously he knew she was smart. She never lets him forget that she got a degree in applied mathematics with a focus on quantum mechanics from UC Berkeley. He was just impressed at the attention to detail and how she was able to break down and explain things for people who didn't know much about fashion, but still write eloquently. 

All in all he felt like an asshole. He should have known better than to have called her extra. He texted Mede thank you and she replied with another meme. This time it was a sassy chihuahua. 

He went down to the kitchen and fixed her a matcha latte with oat milk as a peace offering. He added a handful of the tiny ice cubes Miriam liked. He followed the instructions of the back of the matcha tin and whisked some matcha powder with hot water. Lastly he poured the matcha and oat milk into the cup of ice and he carried the drink upstairs. 

When he reached the guest room, he saw that the door was open, but he still knocked. Miriam sat in front of the vanity, outlining her face with different shades of brown and pink. She was dressed in a short silky robe. 

"Yes?" She asked, squatting down in one of her trunks and grabbed a pair of tall red bottoms. "Did you need something?"

Jack was taken by surprise with how calm Miriam was. They had argued not even an hour ago.

"Jack? You okay?" She asked, reaching for the beauty blender when she sat back in the vanity. She gently dabbed it on her face. 

"Uh," he cleared his throat. "I just came to apologize."

"You don't have to." Miriam said. 

Through the mirror she watched Jack sit on the edge of the bed. 

"Yes I do. You were right. I shouldn't have minimized what you do and–"

"Jack, you're not the for nor will you be the last person to make those types of comments." She said, turning around to face him. "No one really takes me seriously. People see me as some spoiled rich girl who buys whatever I want and thanks to my parents I get everything handed to me. When I was in college I went through the same shit. There was a girl in my Latin American studies who took every comment I said out of context and tried make me sound stupid. The classes I took for my major were filled with rich dude bros who tried to make me feel inferior. At the end of the day, I don't care about what other people think. I was just hurt by your comments, but I'm over it."

"Miriam, let me apologize."

"I already told you I'm over it."

"You deserve an apology though." Jack said, pulling her to his lap. He ran his hands over her thighs then his blue eyes met her brown ones. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier. I was out of line for calling you and your clothes extra. I have no excuse other than being an idiot. One of the things I love about you is how confident you are in your style. And–"

"Jack you're rambling." Miriam said, wrapping her arms around him.

"Shit," he mumbled as his cheeks flushed a bright pink. 

"But I accept your apology." She said, gently scratching his beard. 

They both leaned in for a kiss. Miriam cupped his cheek and deepened their kiss. She pulled away and gently pushed Jack down onto the mattress. With one arm, Jack wrapped his arm around her and gently tossed her onto the middle of the bed. He hovered over her and they resumed kissing. 

One of his hands made its way down Miriam's body and untied her robe, revealing that she only wore lace thong under. He slightly pushed her legs apart so he could fit between her thighs. He wrapped his arms around her body and kissed her collarbones. He made his way down, nipping and sucking her breasts, not carrying that he left any marks. 

"Were you being serious when you said that I could do whatever I wanted to you since it's my birthday?" He asked, looking up from her stomach. 

"In theory." Miriam shrugged. 

"Mhm." He responded. 

Jack cupped Miriam's breasts and shoved his face between them. He pushed her breasts against his head and shook his head from side to side whilst making motorboat sounds.

"Did you just motorboat my tits?" She asked him, watching him kiss down her body. 

"Yes, and I'll do it again, but first I want to eat my favorite meal." He said.

He sat on his knees and tugged Miriam's thong off her. He settled back down, placing her thighs on his shoulders, and dug in. 

*

"Unzip me." 

Miriam turned around so Jack could unzip her dress. She wore a custom black Valentino cocktail dress that reached mid thigh. It had a unique design of a semi, yet elegant, but revealing opening on the bodice. She paired it with thigh stockings, a pair of black five inch red bottoms and of course her black ACNE Studios coat that Jack got her. 

"Damn, Miriam, you couldn't have waited until after the parking lot emptied." Jack teased her as he unhooked the fastener that had the zipper. 

"You wish." She said before climbing to the backseat. 

They had just finished dinner and were on their way to a bowling alley where the original birthday party was supposed to be held. Which meant it was time for an outfit change for Miriam. She quickly put on a black, off the shoulder, feather lined Christian Cowan minidress. She switched out her red bottoms for a pair of satin D'Accori platform sandals. 

Miriam made her way back to the passenger seat and buckled up. She glanced over to Jack. He wore a shit-eating grin. 

"What?" She asked, tugging down the dress.

"You look beautiful." He said.

"I know." She said as she pulled out a makeup wipe. 

"You're not gonna compliment me?" He gestured to his outfit. He wore a blue and white plaid button down with black pants and all white 550s. 

"Uh," she began, trying to find something that stood out to her. "The blue is a nice shade?"

"You're an ass." He fake cried. 

Miriam rolled her eyes and sorted through her mini makeup bag as Jack drove to their next destination. She had on a bold red lip for the dinner, but she decided to go for a more natural color. So she wiped off the red lipstick and she swiped on some lip balm and a shimmery rose nude gloss over her lips. She reached for Jack’s hand that was on her thigh and kissed the back of it, marking him. Jack glanced and softly smiled at her. 

"I'm sorry everyone crashed the dinner you planned." Jack said, breaking their comfortable silence. "I don't know how Neelam took me telling her you planned a dinner for her to invite everyone to the restaurant. I'll pay you back."

At some point when she was getting ready, Neelam had called Jack to discuss what they were doing before the actual party and he told her that he already had plans. Miriam had rented out an entire upscale steakhouse for Jack and his family to enjoy a nice private meal where they wouldn't be bombarded with people filming them or interrupting Jack to get a picture with him. When the couple arrived at the restaurant, all of Jack and Urban's friends and family were waiting for them. Miriam went inside and tried to sort out with the restaurant because they had an additional thirty more people to feed. Fortunately all their staff was there and the dinner went by smoothly. 

"Jack, you're not paying me back. I wanted to treat you and your family to a nice dinner. Sure there were a few more people that attended but I still accomplished what I had planned. Unless you didn't like the dinner." 

"Oh no that shit was good," he said, patting his stomach. "Not as good as your pussy I had earlier though."

"You're so annoying." She rolled her eyes. 

"Isn't that why you love me?" He grinned. 

"Yeah and I'm starting to wonder why?" 

Jack rolled his eyes at her comment and placed his hand on her thigh. Miriam flipped it over and clasped her manicured hand over his to cover his PG ring so she could take a picture of their hands. She posted it and placed her phone in her bag. 

They arrived shortly at the bowling alley. It was the one Jack was supposed to take Miriam for their first date but they missed it because they ended up spending over three hours at Vincenzo’s talking and enjoying each other's presence. 

Jack turned off the engine and quickly got out of the car to open the door for Miriam. He helped her out of the car and placed her jacket over her shoulders. Miriam held onto his arm as they walked over to meet up with everyone. 

At the bowling alley there were more people inside. Friends of friends who somehow knew Jack or Urban and managed to get invited. Jack led Miriam to the VIP area where his friends and family were. They went around greeting the group and settled in a navy blue armchair. Miriam sat on Jack's lap. 

"Do you want something to drink?" Jack asked her, mindlessly running his hand over her thigh. "We can get you a cocktail or something."

"I'm good." She said nestling, in his chest. "The three wine glasses I had at dinner just hit and I wanna sober up for later tonight." 

"What's happening tonight?" He asked her, gently biting her neck. 

"Some of that," she whimpered. "But also something involving the teal thong I have under."

"Fuck," Jack groaned.

"But that's later. Right now I wanna bowl." She said, standing up. 

Jack led her to the shoe renting station. A server called his name and he went to get the food he ordered whilst Miriam got their shoes. He noticed that when they were at the restaurant she only had a Cesar salad and some mashed potatoes, so he ordered her some plain wings and fries. He made his way to an empty lance and waited for Miriam. Minutes later she came over and sat next to him and pulled out some wet wipes to clean their table. 

"You missed a spot." Jack pointed in front of him. 

Miriam stood in front of him and leaned forward to wipe down, oblivious to his true intentions. That was until she felt her skirt of her dress bunch up around her hips, exposing her ass to the bowling alley. His hands playfully smacking her ass like he was playing the bongos. 

"Stop," she said, reaching back to pull down her skirt. She turned around and found him proudly smiling.

"I like watching your ass jiggle." He shrugged, bringing her down to straddle him. His hand slipped in her skirt, toying with the teal thong. "These feel nice. Are these from Victoria's Secret?"

"Victoria's Secret?" She cringed. "Last time I wore that shitty brand was when I was in high school. My pussy is selective about what goes near it."

"Glad I made the cut." He grinned confidently. 

“And now I’m starting to reconsider.” she said without missing a beat. “Anyways, we should start bowling, that's what we came for." She said, grabbing a tray of wings and carrying them to the scoreboard in front of them.

"Wait, we forgot to give you the kiddie lane." Jack said. "At Calum's birthday your bowling ball spent more time in the gutter." 

He was referring to Calum's birthday a few weeks ago that was also held at a bowling alley similar to the one they were in. 

“I don't need them, I’m actually good at bowling. At Cal’s party you were distracting me.” she said, typing their nicknames on the scoreboard. Jack’s was ‘Harleezy’ and hers was ‘movie star’. 

“I was not.” he totally was. She wore a mini skirt and Jack stood behind her to make sure no one saw her lack of shorts under her skirt. 

“Whatever, this time I’m not gonna let you distract me.” she said, tying her bowling shoes. 

“I don’t need to if you’re gonna just be in the gutter.” he said walking up to the lane. 

“Your balls wish they were in my gutter.” she said as he tossed the ball. 

Jack dropped the ball when he heard her say that. He cursed and watched the bowling ball roll into the gutter. He dropped his shoulders in defeat and walked back to Miriam. 

“My turn.” she said, picking a bowling ball. She effortlessly scored a strike. Miriam turned to Jack and shrugged.

*

In the hour they’ve been playing, Jack was quick to learn that Miriam was really good at bowling. She mostly got strikes, saved for the occasional spare. They were tied which meant their last round was the tie breaker. 

“Jack, we’re gonna cut the cake in five.” Neelam said when she approached the pair. 

"Okay, we're gonna finish this last round." Jack said, waving her off.

“Jack, c’mon.” she said in a more stern voice. 

“I said, we have one more round.” he snapped.

“Jack, it’s fine.” Miriam whispered, not wanting things to escalate. “We can bowl some other time.”

“No!” Jack whisper-yelled. “Why can’t she wait three minutes.”

“Jack, please.” she said.

“Fine.” he rolled his eyes. 

The pair took off their bowling shoes and made their way up to the VIP area. Jack went up to the DJ booth with Urban meanwhile Miriam went to sit with Jack’s friends. Her face lit up when she spotted a familiar face.

“When did you get here!” Miriam said, wrapping her arms around Aleena.

“Like ten minutes ago, I was adding the finishing touches to some orders I had.” she said.

Aleena was Sunni’s girlfriend but she was also one of Jack’s friends from high school. Miriam met her last summer when she visited Jack in Louisville for the Fourth of July. But she didn’t get to see her on the 'No Place Like Home' tour because she was in Mexico visiting her family. Aleena owns a panaderia- pastry shop and she always made sure Miriam had her conchas. 

Miriam and Aleena made some small talk until it was time for everyone to sing to Jack and Urban. 

Jack looked around to everyone as Bryson Tiller got everyone singing ‘happy birthday’ to him and Urban. Jack’s eyes landed on Miriam and he gave her his signature smile. He got everyone to sing to Urban then the two best friends cut their cakes. A server came by and cut pieces of cake for the guests and another one was placing them in a tray to hand out. 

Jack took a corner piece for Miriam and took it to her. 

“Where’s my cake?” Aleena asked him when he set the slice down in front of Miriam. 

“Right here.” Sunni said, squeezing her ass. 

She gave him an unamused look then pulled her phone out of Sunni’s pocket and handed it to Jack. “Make yourself useful and take some pictures of us.” she said, fluffing her dark waves. 

“What she said.” Miriam said, getting in front of her. 

Aleena knelt on the velvet couch so her and Miriam can have height difference in their pictures.  Miriam leaned back into her, so Aleena could wrap her arms around her. 

“You’re in the frame,” Aleena told her boyfriend, gently nudging him to get off the couch. 

They got in position once more, but Aleena had no idea where to put her hands. Given the pose they were doing, the only logical place to put them was on Miriam’s chest. 

“Don’t be shy, get a good handful.” Miriam said, pressing Aleena’s hands onto her breasts. 

“Or not, Aleena. Keep your hands to yourself.” Jack said.

“Tú no me mandas.” Aleena sassed him, squeezing Miriam’s breasts to annoy him.

Jack looked at Sunni and murmured. “I’m not liking this friendship.” 

*

When they got home, it was close to three in the morning. Miriam yawned as she made her way to the kitchen for some water. She washed the cup and put it on the dish drying rack to dry. She was about to exit the kitchen when she saw her gift still intact sitting on the counter. She furrowed her eyebrows and grabbed it, taking it upstairs to Jack’s room. 

“Why is your present still wrapped?” she asked him as he got out of the bathroom in his tank top and grey sweats.

“I felt weird opening it knowing you were mad at me.” he said putting his shoes in his closet. 

“Okay, but I’m not mad at you anymore, so you can open it.” Miriam said, handing him the box. 

“I forgot to say this, but thank you.” he mumbled between kisses.

Jack took the gift and sat next to her on the bed. He lifted the box close to his ear and shook it, trying to figure out what it was. It sounded big and the box itself was kinda heavy. He placed it on his lap and carefully tore the tape off the wrapping paper so he wouldn’t rip it. He looked at Miriam and rubbed his hands together like Anthony Adams, making her laugh. He pulled the paper off, revealing a blue shoe box with the UK flag on top.

“This better not be what I think it is,” he told her. 

“We’ll never know unless you open it.” 

Jack removed the top and it was exactly what he thought. They were the exact pair of  blue suede Reebok sneakers he had in the fifth grade. He vividly remembered the night of the baseball game when he ruined them in the rain. 

“How–” Jack cleared his throat. He sniffled. He looked up at her with tears pooling around his eyes.

“Don’t cry.” Miriam said, hugging him.

“I’m not.” he said, wiping his eyes. “I got something in them.”

“Emotion?” 

“Shut up.” he mumbled, wrapping his arm around her. He pecked her lips. “Thank you.”

“You should thank Claudia’s mom. Soni has connections everywhere and she was able to get them for me.” 

“Yeah, but I can’t thank her.” he said. 

Jack reached to the back of her dress and unzipped it. 

Miriam pulled away. “Wait, I had something planned.” 

She got off the bed and went to the guest room. She grabbed the teal bra that came with the thong she had under and shimmied out her dress and put it on. She slipped on the silk robe she had on earlier and made her way to Jack’s bedroom. 

She entered the room and found him sound asleep. She removed her robe and bra. She opened one of Jack’s drawers and grabbed a t-shirt. She quickly did her nighttime routine and got in bed. She kissed his freckled shoulder.

“I love you Miriam.” he murmured in his sleep.

*

Around ten in the morning they woke up. Jack laid her down on the bed. With one hand he slightly lifted her head and kissed her. He used his other hand to pull one of her legs over his waist as he deepened their kiss. Miriam pulled away to catch her breath, giving Jack access to her neck. She whimpered his name when she felt his teeth gently biting her.

Having enough of him on her neck, she pulled him back to her lips. She loosened the grip around his waist and used her thighs to grind into him. Jack groaned, feeling how ready she was for him through the sleep shorts she wore. He pulled away from her lips and kissed down to her chest. He tweaked one of her nipples while he nipped and sucked her other breast. 

Mede’s designated ringtone blared, making the couple jump. 

“Ignore it.” Jack mumbled. 

“It has to be important. I told her not to call me before noon.” Miriam said, rolling over to get her phone from the nightstand. “Bueno.”

“Dude your shit got leaked!” Mede yelled.

“What?” Miriam sat up.

“Some gringa on tiktok posted this whole thing from Jack’s party and added a bunch of videos of you and Jack.” she explained. “I’ll send you the tiktok. Please hold.” 

“Okay, thanks for calling me.”

“You’re welcome, and your mom said to call her so y’all can work it out.” 

“Bye.” she hung up and groaned. 

“What happened?” Jack asked her.

“People know now.” she sighed.

“About?”

“Us.”

“Shit.” 

Seconds later Miriam got a text notification from Mede. It was a screen recording because apparently the tiktok got deleted just as she was looking for it, but Claudia had screen recorded it. 

“Mede sent me the tiktok.” 

Jack sat back and pulled Miriam to his chest. She pressed play. 

"I don't want to share this, but I feel like it's my duty. As a woman I have high morals and have to expose the truth." The influencer took a dramatic kong pause then took a deep breath. "Maria Dominguez is cheating on her boyfriend with Jack Harlow." 

Miriam paused the tiktok and looked at Jack. A few seconds passed and they burst into a fit of laughter. Once they collected themselves, they continued watching the video. The gringa that posted the tiktok was Jack’s old hook up that was there when Miriam visited Jack when he was touring in the fall. She went on saying that ‘Maria’ was a terrible person for coercing and manipulating Jack into being her side piece. The last minute was just a bunch of clips stitched together of Jack and Miriam kissing and being couple-esque.

“Now what?” Miriam asked Jack. 

“Let me call Chris.” He got out of bed and hit up his manager. 

Miriam took it upon herself and checked twitter. It was a shit show. Some people genuinely believed the tiktoker while some used their logic and pointed out that Miriam never said who she was dating. And based on the pictures she’s posted and how her and Jack were always together it would make sense that they were dating. Both talked about being private and not wanting their business out there for everyone to comment on. Lastly there were a few who theorized that it was all PR because they have projects to promote.

A few minutes later he came back and plopped next to her. 

“What did Chris say?” Miriam asked.

“He said we can either ignore it and hope it passes, or to make some sort of statement that confirms it. I say we go with the latter because I don’t like that people are taking shit about you.” Jack frowned. 

“I’ve been called worse.” she shrugged.

“Miriam,” 

“I’m just saying.”

“How about I order us some breakfast and we sort this shit out after we eat.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Miriam nodded. She kissed him. “I’m gonna shower.”

Jack nodded. He made their bed and went downstairs to the kitchen. He ordered their breakfast from his favorite deli shop. To pass some time he went on twitter. He was annoyed with all the comments people had made about Miriam. But he did laugh at some of the memes people posted reacting to them being in a relationship. 

PopCrave had reposted the now deleted video and Jack decided to retweet it and added 'If you're gonna make up some bullshit lies about me and my girl at least get her name right. You sound racist calling her Maria.' He checked Instagram and saw that Miriam had posted a bowling recap from last night. The first slide was of her sitting on her heels with her ass out like she was twerking. The second slide was of her doing the dougie when she got a strike. The third slide was her and Jack's names on the bowling score keeper. The fourth slide was one of the pictures Jack took of Aleena squeezing Miriam’s breasts, and the last slide was a picture of Jack's hand on her ass from the video he took of her grinding on him. Her caption was 'changing my name to Maria.' Jack snorted when he read it and commented 'I like saying Miriam when I cum in you tho.'

“JACK!”

Seconds later he heard Miriam open the bedroom door and trud down the stairs.

She pulled off the towel of her head and tossed it at him. "Delete that comment." 

taglist: @cherryxcreme @heavyhitterheaux @carma-fanficaddict @youngharleezyxo @deannaard @meyocoko @babyharleezy @whywontyoulovemecami ​ @harlowcomehome ​ @nattinatalia @youngharleezy @webinurcloset

#jack harlow one shot #jack harlow smut #jack harlow fan fic #jack harlow angst #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow series #jack harlow fan fiction #jack harlow #jack and miriam

[gealachros]

Thoughts while reading Trimax Vol 13!

Wow we're reaching the end, its kinda crazy but its been a wonderful time. Thank you to Revenant Ghost for organizing this book club!! This was such a fun way to read Trimax for the first time and to see others thoughts on it as well

Now onto the reading

I love the alt covers, always full of funny details. Also a pirate AU for Trigun would be kinda cool

Wow holy shit... Already off to a strong start

Of course Legato is that kinda villain lol, gives himself a handicap to make it more fun. Hes such an edgelord and its great

Did he just catch the nail with his chin?? Livio is awesome man. Also, these fights are really cool. Very interesting dynamic between each fight

Ewww Legato licking Vashs blood is pretty disturbing. Such a maniacal character. (Not showing the panel here because I dont want to force anyone to see it again lol)

Lol Livio just wanted to get his clothes back. This man is such an amazing character

Oh wow... Shes got a sick as hell design even under the coat lol

I wonder if its supposed to be some sort of armor?

What is happening??? Seems like all the straps came off and that causes something to happen? I'm guessing it makes her more powerful but I'm not sure why

Lol even the people from space know about Vash. I wonder how they heard about him though

Wow this panel is amazing but also, hes fully colored black which is a little scary... Apparently hes used all his power which I dont like what that could entail...

Restraints??? Man she is badass as hell lol, I like her very much

Razlo is back??

LOL this fucking panel, I think Razlo is a little excited

WTF Elendira has a physic attack??? Also wow that was a graphic panel which I am not gonna show lol

Aww the flashback to Wolfwood

Oh cool, Razlo and Livio are working together now. I think they will work very good together since it seems like Livio is pretty good at tatics where Razlo is all about strength

I love this dynamic of them working together really well while still keeping their own personalities. Its really interesting character design for Livio/Razlo and its a great part of their character arc

Wow that design is sick, I love the attention to detail in Trimax

Aw this is really sweet, also holy hell what an awesome fight between Elendria and Livio/Razlo

Oh thats interestin, after what happened at July. Legato and that doctor are the ones who found Knives. It makes sense but thats something I havent seen before so its cool to know more about what exactly happened at July

Man the callbacks to Wolfwood break my heart every time

Ah thats how the space people learned of Vash, thats such a cool detail. Because of how hes been helping everyone all these years, the plants have remembered him

Indeed they do!

Aw its really cute seeing their thoughts on Vash

Some panels just absolutly send chills down my spine and this is no exception

Wow what an insane ending to volume 13, this one was super intense. Next it the last volume which Im interested to see the ending but also that means the story will be over so its bittersweet.

I actually do have the physical copy of volume 14 so Ill probably read that and maybe make a post with screen shots afterwards. I am excited though to read the physical edition since its the only one I have

Anyways, as always what an amazing volume and what an amazing story. Trimax is so well written its crazy

#TrigunBookclub #trimax #trimax vol 13

[nitewrighter]

Scoops! (Part 2)

CW for some Clark mistreatment. As I was writing this I was like "Noooo! Stop hurting himmmm!" and then I kept hurting him. So, you've been warned.

Part 1

Read it on AO3 here!

----

“Any idea why the drone would take off like that?” said Lois, racing after Jimmy through the streets of Metropolis. They had hopped a tram to the edge of the New Troy, but had to leap off before the tram turned away from the Industrial district. It was December in the city—one of those dry, bright days that looks inviting but as soon as you step outside you realize it’s so cold your face hurts. Lois was frustrated at the weight of her own jacket and layer of thermals beneath her jeans slowing her down, and she wondered, briefly, if Clark was warm enough in his Superman outfit.

“Scoops,” said Jimmy.

“Scoops,” Lois corrected herself.

“It may have something to do with Scoops’s coding,” said Jimmy, vaulting over a bike rack to avoid a crowd of hedge fund bros crowding the sidewalk, the metal so cold it stung his skin on contact, “The AmerTek drone frame actually had multiple sensor capabilities—y’know, infrared, thermography, electromagnetic sensors—and I figured ‘that’s useful’ and I wrote in a few lines of code where Scoops would be naturally programmed to pursue things giving off unusual energy signatures.”

“You sure you didn’t… I don’t know… put a zero or a forward slash in the wrong place?”

“Never,” said Jimmy with deadly seriousness, “Not with Scoops.”

“This really means a lot to you, huh?”

“Lois, it’s a flying camera drone. Superman flies. We can get shots of Superman, in flight, without worrying about falling to our deaths. Plus, Scoops is a scout! We can send it into areas that are too dangerous for us to wander into! Do you know how much of a game changer that is?”

“I’m sure I would have, if it hadn’t crashed out the window mid-demo,” said Lois.

“Scoops was supposed to just keep a bead on you by recognizing you from all the data I have about you on my phone. But if there’s another Lois Lane, with an unusual energy signature…” Jimmy paused, “Or maybe multiple Lois Lanes clustered in one area—”

“Oh, no no no—I am not doing this again,” said Lois, dodging out of the way of a skateboarder, “I hate the League of Me’s! They’re jerks! I thought we ditched them!”

“Only because Jalana helped us,” said Jimmy, with a bit of smugness, “Good to know you two wouldn’t survive without me in every universe.”

“Jimmy, you wouldn’t have survived without you in that universe, either. But if they found our universe again…” Lois started sprinting even harder, “Oh no—Clark—!” She was overtaking Jimmy at this point.

“Hey—hey! I’m the one with the GPS and live feed!” said Jimmy. He suddenly skidded to a halt and started tapping at his phone, “Lois—wait! Live feed!”

Lois slid to a stop as well and trotted back to him. They both dipped into an alley for a bit more privacy, and Lois leaned over Jimmy’s shoulder as he opened Scoops’s live feed. The camera blipped on to showing Clark clearly struggling to push himself up from the ground as a black-clad, white-haired figure patiently paced toward him, holding a massive gun.

“You think I’m with the League?”

All color drained from Lois’s face as she heard her own voice.

“Don’t worry. I’m not hitting you with anything you can’t take.”

“But—”

The red of the gun’s beam seemed to stain the whole phone screen. Lois clasped both hands over her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut at the sound of Clark’s screams, Jimmy’s own eyes were wide with horror.

“Clark—” the name was muffled through Lois’s hands.

On his phone screen, the white-haired figure turned around, with Clark crumpled on the ground behind her, red smoke rising off of him. Lois’s face contorted with tearful outrage at the sight of her own face staring steadily at her through Scoops, through Jimmy’s phone.

“She—she can’t see us, can she?” Lois’s voice was taut as she watched her white-haired self approach the camera.

“N-no,” said Jimmy. Lois gave him a nervous glance and Jimmy said, “Well, she shouldn’t be able to.”

“I know you’re me, and I know you’re watching,” the white-haired Lois spoke into the camera, “So here’s the deal: stay out of my way and your Clark will be returned to you, unharmed.” She glanced over her shoulder at Clark, unconscious. “Well… no more harmed than he is already, I mean. I can’t give you an exact timeframe, I can only give you my word as… me. Well… you. Us.”

“God, she’s definitely you,” Jimmy murmured.

“Jimmy—” Lois said through gritted teeth.

“Don’t believe anything the League tells you. I don’t mean any harm to your universe. But I will be taking your drone.”

“WHAT?!” Jimmy blurted out.

“And, obviously, I’ll be borrowing your Clark for a while, but again, he will be returned to you, so long as you… and your…” the white-haired Lois blinked a few times and suddenly looked very tired, “Your Jimmy—” She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head as if snapping herself out of a haze, “So long as you and your Jimmy don’t do anything stupid. There is no negotiating. Stay out of my way. End transmission.”

There were several awkward seconds where Lois and Jimmy and the white-haired Lois were staring at each other before the white-haired Lois sighed and said, “Scoops…? End transmission” and the feed blipped to black.

“…you have to say ‘Scoops’ before issuing a command,” Jimmy whispered to Lois.

“I gathered,” said Lois, but then she blinked, “Wait, how could she command Scoops? Why wouldn’t you just make it so Scoops would only respond to you?”

“I programmed Scoops to respond to you, me, or Clark,” said Jimmy, “Scoops was supposed to be for all three of us.” His voice dropped a bit, “Well, just you and me so far, actually. I didn’t want to program anything for Clark until we could figure out some Clark vs. Superman privacy guidelines…”

“Oh, Jimmy—” Lois started before the name ‘Clark’ yanked her mind back to its previous panic, “Oh god—Clark!”

“Okay, we need to think about this,” said Jimmy, trying to compose himself.

“What’s there to think about? She’s kidnapping Clark! She shot him with a laser! Or energy beam! Something that looked like it really hurt!” 

“Okay, but she also said ‘Don’t trust the League,’ and they’ve nearly killed Clark before, too. This Lois said she would give our Clark back, that she was borrowing him.”

Lois blinked a few times, her brow crinkled, trying to steer her mind from the blaze of ‘I have to save Clark’ to ‘What is actually happening.’ She squeezed her eyes shut. “The League also believes Clark’s too dangerous in every reality,” she felt like she was forcing the words out of herself, “They wouldn’t use him like this. She needs him for something.” Her eyes flicked open and her breath steadied with determination.

“If we’re going to save him, we need to find out what,” Jimmy said in agreement.

“Right,” Lois said, half to herself and half to him, “Right.”

They started moving again.

“So she didn’t cut the GPS signal, did she?”

“Not yet,” Jimmy brought up his phone, “Still down at the docks. I’ll try to override to get the live feed back online.”

They hurried on, Lois wondering how long she could ride this ‘Boyfriend in peril’ wave of adrenaline and regretting the fact that she had spent the better part of an hour already wearing herself out trying to teach Clark how to properly stand and evade in a fight. How could that other Lois get the drop on him? Had Clark learned nothing? No, that wasn’t fair. He wasn’t even willing to flip Lois on a mat when she was trying to teach him sparring. He managed to pull a damn ‘I’m Superman and I’m going to invulnerable my way through a sparring session even though I agreed to the sparring session because we agreed depending so much on invulnerability wasn’t sustainable’ on her and like an idiot she hadn’t pushed him further, she hadn’t reminded him of the stakes. But then there was the more obvious aspect of it: It was her. Well, it wasn’t her, but it was a Lois, and of course Clark’s first priority would always be ‘Don’t hurt her’ rather than ‘Don’t let her hurt me,’ so if she had technology similar to that Red Omega field back at Cadmus, or kryptonite, or her dad’s weird rectangular hand cannon, there wouldn’t be a lot Clark’s invulnerability could do about that. But if that bleached-hair rockabilly ‘ooh look at me, I’m wearing a low-cut dress in winter’ asshole version of herself thought she could shoot her Clark with a laser, and then talk about borrowing him, like he was a stand mixer or something, oh, she had another thing coming.

Jimmy had abruptly stopped moving, his eyes fixed on his phone. He rubbed a hand over his mouth in distress.

“Jimmy?” Lois stopped walking.

“I—I can’t access Scoops’s live feed. I’m getting the screen I would get if Scoops was under maintenance—What’s she doing to Scoops?”

Lois huffed a breath. “Jimmy, I know you worked really hard on Scoops and it means a lot to you, but Clark—”

“No, I know—I know,” Jimmy blinked and shook his head, forcing himself to snap out of it, “Let’s just keep moving.”

The shriek of gulls at the Metropolis waterfront was more muted in winter, but all the same Lois wasn’t sure what exactly they would do once they found the white-haired Lois and, hopefully, Clark. She and Jimmy had saved Clark a couple of times before, but they usually had Clark as a pretty big distraction, and even then that ‘distraction’ usually involved Clark getting the crap kicked out of him—god, they really were way too dependent on that invulnerability. Clark had been her father’s hostage before, but had managed to escape thanks to the fact that his enemies all wanted to kill him so bad they ended up tripping each other up, which also wasn’t very encouraging.

“Lois,” Jimmy’s voice snapped her out of her puzzling, “Look.”

Lois followed where he was pointing. Two people were bickering softly at the main gates leading into the Metropolis shipyard.

They watched the two figures, one, a lean Korean man in a purple blazer, black turtleneck, and white pants, the other, a tall black girl in an olive drab cargo jacket and cuffed jeans. They were both wearing sunglasses, both hunched over a device on the Korean man’s wrist.

Lois’s eyes narrowed.

“Lewis and Jalana,” she muttered.

“Maybe we could follow them,” Jimmy mused under his breath, “If the you that kidnapped Clark has beef with them, then it’s likely—”

“HEY!” Lois hollered.

“Oh my god,” Jimmy said very quietly, pressing his fingertips to his forehead.

“YOU GUYS GOT A WARRANT?” Lois threw her arms up.

Lewis and Jalana looked at each other, then briskly approached them.

“Lois, what’s the plan—what was the plan here—!?” Jimmy said as Jalana seized his arm and both he and Lois were basically dragged into another alley. As far as Lois was concerned, this was, indeed, a plan: the foolproof Lois Lane plan of ‘Start some shit and see what you learn in the chaos.’ But also she would be lying if she said she wasn’t genuinely angry at them for having that Kryptonite crystal that nearly killed Clark.

“Are you crazy!?” Lewis hissed, “Do you have any idea how badly you can compromise your world and the League by drawing attention to us like that?!”

“What I want to know is what gives you guys the authority to tromp around our universe like you own the place!” said Lois. “We’re an Interdimensional Peacekeeping—” Lewis started.

“Yeah! And you don’t have the consent or authorization from any government entity in this universe to keep the peace!” Lois snapped.

“Oh, and I’m sure your governments consented to having a feral Clark flying around?!”

“He’s not feral!”

Both Jimmy and Jalana exchanged a tired glance of, ‘This is not conducive to either of our goals’ as Lewis and Lois argued.

“Your universe isn’t prepared in any capacity for even the knowledge of—!” Lewis started but Jalana held up a hand.

“Lewis, let me handle this,” said Jalana.

“She’s not League material, their Clark is still on the loose, and they’re all still persons of interest in the Mxyzptlk case,” said Lewis, with a glare at Lois.

“Their universe was derailed by the League’s failure to contain Mxy,” said Jalana, “And we’re in their universe doing damage control, again. Antagonizing them isn’t going to help.”

“I’m antagonizing?!” said Lewis, “She was the one who—”

“Lewis, just keep scanning for inter-dimensional anomalies. I’ll handle the locals,” said Jalana. Lewis rolled his eyes and stalked off, bringing up some kind of holographic interface from his gauntlet as he gave them space.

“…the League isn’t that mad at us still, is it?” said Jimmy.

“You should count yourselves lucky that you’re not seen as competent enough to be a threat to the multiverse,” said Jalana, putting a hand on one hip.

“Wow,” said Lois, folding her arms.

“But we’re not a priority right now, is what you’re saying,” said Jimmy.

“No. Right now, we’re after a rogue Lois,” Jalana explained.

Jimmy and Lois exchanged nervous glances.

“…you already know about her,” said Jalana, lowering her voice.

“Well—” Jimmy started.

“Before we tell you anything, we want your word that you guys won’t harm our Clark again,” said Lois.

“I’m not in a position to promise anything like that,” said Jalana, before her eyes flicked between them. “And… where is your Clark?”

Lois and Jimmy said nothing.

“Okay, you know, the first time your Clark gets involved with an inter-dimensional criminal, I can chalk that up to the fact that he didn’t have context on anything. The second time—”

“He’s been Clarknapped—I mean, kidnapped,” said Lois.

“We think she needs him for something,” said Jimmy.

“A Kryptonian… kidnapped,” Jalana said slowly. She folded her arms in thought. “Well, given the armory she built up in her own universe, it makes sense that she would have the means to do something like that.”

“Jalana, what are we dealing with, here?” asked Jimmy.

“She operates under the title, ‘The Spider Lady,’” said Jalana.

“The Spider Lady?” repeated Lois.

“Olsen, I know you’re not telling the persons of interest classified League information about the Spider Lady,” Lewis called from the other side of the alley.

“It’s not going to be classified very long if we can’t figure out what the Spider Lady’s trying to do in this dimension, Lewis,” said Jalana with an eye roll before turning back to Lois and Jimmy.

“So she’s actually called ‘The Spider Lady,” said Lois.

“Previously, she was an important informant for the League of Lois Lanes because her universe was basically used as a dumping ground for weaponry, people, and creatures deemed too dangerous for other realities,” Jalana went on.

“By who?” Said Jimmy.

“That’s classified,” said Lewis from the other side of the alley.

“She was an inter-dimensional arms dealer herself,” said Jalana, “But we apprehended her and she agreed to cooperate with the League of Lois Lanes in exchange for relative freedom. We had also determined that the Spider Lady was important to the stability of her own highly chaotic universe… but we don’t know what prompted her coming here.”

“The Spider Lady,” Lois said again.

“So wait, you’re saying there’s like, an inter-dimensional Black Market?” said Jimmy.

“I have a Pulitzer in like, 50 different realities, and you’re telling me, the best Villain-Me can come up with is ‘The Spider Lady!?’” Lois exclaimed.

“Yes, and yes,” said Lewis.

“I mean it kind of works in a pulpy way,” Jimmy mused.

“I’m not a ‘Spider Lady!’ I’d be something cool! Like—like ‘The Eradicator’, or something.”

“Mm—You’re not an Eradicator,” said Jimmy, flatly.

“Jimmy, work with me here.”

“Look,” said Jalana, “We could spend all day complaining about alternate-universe versions of ourselves—”

“Ow,” said Jimmy.

“Or we could track down this Lois before she does irreparable damage to your universe,” Jalana finished.

Jimmy awkwardly cleared his throat.

Jalana scrutinized him for a few seconds. “…you already know where she is.”

“Well, we know where Scoops is,” said Jimmy.

“Tell us,” said Lewis flatly.

“Oh no,” said Lois, “We’re not letting you guys get anywhere near Clark without us.”

“This is bigger than your stupid Clark!” said Lewis.

“He’s not stupid!” said Lois. “Fine!” Jalana barked over both of them, “You can come with us.”

“Olsen—” Lewis said in warning.

“They obviously have a strong rapport with their Clark,” said Jalana, “Assuming they’re reasonable,” she gave a pointed glance to Lois, “That makes them able to make the Kryptonian a less unpredictable factor in this.”

“This is going in in my report to Leader Lois,” said Lewis.

“Have to finish the mission before you write the report,” said Jalana, already walking out of the alley and towards the shipping yard, “Let’s move.”

——

Clark’s eyes bleared open. His head was pounding and his body ached all over, and there was a particular heaviness at his neck—he shifted where he was on the ground slightly. The ground below him was steel—the shipping container? He shifted his shoulders felt metal on his skin, and a chill ran through him. Instinctively, both hands went to his throat and clasped at the metal there, but it didn’t feel the same. He was so used to the anxiety of metal buckling beneath his grip if he wasn’t paying attention, but the fact that this metal didn’t yield to his straining fingers ignited an even more urgent fear. He glanced at his wrists, and saw they were cuffed. Instinctively, he narrowed his eyes at the cuffs, expecting heat vision to easily split the steel cables between them, but… nothing happened.

“Inhibitor collar. Earth 16,” The white-haired Lois was still working on Scoops. She had managed to pry the chassis open and was now poking at the interior. “I hope you understand, it’s nothing personal.”

“Wait—That’s not…”

“Y’know, the light show was new. I’ve seen my share of you’s, but I think I’ve only seen you glow blue…mm… twice? And that was only in archival footage. And it wasn’t like what you were doing. It’s interesting. Pretty, even. So are you wearing the ’S’ under your clothes at all times, or do the alien clothes… teleport on? Or…?”

“I—I don’t know?” Clark pushed up to a sitting position. He briefly thought back to the Cadmus research facility where those guns had blasted his shirt off—did he not have the Superman clothes back then because of that red Omega field? Were they that connected to his powers? Or was it simply because Lois was so angry with him being Superman, he really didn’t want to be Superman in that time? As the white-haired Lois’s words sank in more, then he glanced down at himself and realized he was back in his civilian clothes. He feverishly fished through his pockets as best he could with his hands cuffed, and managed to pull out his glasses and put them on. She snorted at the sight.

“Always with the glasses,” she said with a slight eye roll before resuming her work. She suddenly yanked something out of Scoops with an audible snap of wires and Clark winced.

“Can—can you not do that?” said Clark, “That’s my friend’s. He worked really hard on it.”

“He’ll live,” said the white-haired Lois, pulling something from her pocket.

Clark set his jaw, watching as she continued working. She seemed very absorbed into… lobotomizing Scoops? He craned his neck slightly to try and get some idea of what she was doing. She had an object that looked… kind of like a phone? And was using it to scan Scoops nearly every time she tweaked something or yanked something out or jammed something in.

“So… do I call you Lois? ” he broke the silence.

“In my world, I’m known as the Spider Lady,” said the white-haired Lois.

Clark snorted.

“What?” She glanced over her shoulder from Scoops.

“Nothing!” Clark brought his cuffed hands up, “Just… doesn’t seem like a name Lois would pick for herself.” She would probably pick something that sounds like a monster truck.

“Well, I’m not your Lois, am I?” said the Spider Lady.

“No,” said Clark, genuinely embarrassed.

“Look, just sit tight, Boy Scout, I’m almost done here.”

She seemed very absorbed in her work. Clark’s eyes flicked around the shipping container. Okay, no powers, he could figure this out. He still had the size advantage, right? Get her in a headlock? He should have asked Lois how to properly get someone in a headlock. Maybe find something heavy and whack her over the head and—oh god, no he didn’t want to do that. It didn’t have to come to that, right? She had said “I’m not going to hit you with anything you can’t take,” so he figured she needed him alive in some capacity.  

Superman can lift a bus, thought Clark, edging away as silently as he could, But if there’s one thing Clark Kent can do, it’s sneak off when nobody’s look—

Kick-in-the-chest, full-body pain suddenly exploded across his nerves. Clark’s entire body tensed up and he slammed flat to the ground again, convulsing as electrical currents coursed over his body from his neck.

“Ooh, I probably should have mentioned the collar’s shock function,” the Spider Lady made a mock-wincing sound through her teeth as she waved a small remote around, “Stings without invulnerability, doesn’t it?”

The shock ceased and Clark was left gasping and shuddering on the ground.

“What-what do you need me for?” The words came out of him as more of a grunt than a demand.

“You’ll see,” she turned her attention back to Scoops.

——

Lois and Jimmy paced behind Lewis and Jalana through the shipping yard. Lewis had demanded Jimmy sync up Scoop’s GPS data on his phone with his gauntlet, and both Lewis and Jalana insisted on taking the lead since this was ‘League’ business. Even if she really didn’t trust the League after they had tried to kill Clark, Lois was a little grateful to be moving in bigger numbers.

“So you’re saying she knocked him out with some kind of… big laser gun,” said Jalana, as they walked.

“Doesn’t exactly narrow things down,” said Lewis, looking at a hologram being projected by his gauntlet, “You didn’t see anything identifying about the gun?”

“We were a little bit more worried about Clark?” said Lois, folding her arms, “Why is the gun so important?”

“If we can figure out what universe she got it from, it might tell us more about what the Spider Lady’s planning,” explained Jalana, “What are the readings, Lewis?”

“Definitely some Red Sun radiation in the air, so…” he gave a glance back to Lois, “Maybe they’re telling the truth about their Clark being kidnapped.” He tapped at a few more symbols being projected by his gauntlet and the screen changed to some seemingly inscrutable charts, and started emitting a clicking sound. “I’m getting traces of Earth-21 Motherbox radiation, and Earth-48 Apokoliptian chrono-molecular manipulation imprints,” said Lewis.

“You mean ‘Apocalyptic?’” said Jimmy.

Color visibly drained from Lewis’s face and he glanced over at Jalana who was making a tight-lipped, desperate cutting motion next to her neck.

“…yyyes?” said Lewis.

“So it’s… from a universe that’s ended,” Lois said slowly.

“Yes!” Lewis said, jumping on this explanation a little too eagerly.

“…you’re bullshitting us,” said Lois.

“What? No—” Lewis started.

“I know you’re bullshitting us because I make those exact faces when I’m bullshitting Perry or my dad,” said Lois.

“Look,” said Jalana, slowing her pace to walk alongside Lois and Jimmy, “There’s a lot we can’t tell you, not just because it ties in with League security, but also because your universe just isn’t ready for it.”

“But if these things are dangerous,” said Lois with a slight glare, “Shouldn’t we know about them so we can prepare?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” said Lewis, still reading the holograms on his gauntlet, “The same thing will manifest differently across different universes. If we tell you to prepare for something, it could end up coming to you in completely different and more devastating form, because you prepared for it according to the logic of other universes.”

“So the League’s policy, in a lot of cases, is actually pretty hands-off,” said Jalana, “Let the different universes develop, expand, and adapt according to their own rules”

“Like the Prime Directive,” said Jimmy.

“No idea what that is, but sure,” said Jalana, “What makes the Spider Lady such a threat, is that she has enough interdimensional knowledge to catalyze an event here that your universe is completely unprepared for.”

“She said she didn’t mean our universe any harm,” said Lois. It felt hollow saying those words because of the clear danger of the situation and what had already happened to Clark, but she also knew from the experience that this League was more than willing to shoot first and ask questions later, which, honestly didn’t seem very ‘Lois’ of them—Questions were like, her whole thing.

“And you believe her?” An incredulous laugh shook Lewis’s voice.

“Well, why would she want to harm our universe?” said Jimmy.

“Sounds like she’s already hurt your Clark,” said Jalana.

Jimmy’s phone made a blipping noise. “We’re getting close,” he said quietly.

Lewis’s gauntlet blipped as well. “Confirmed.”

“All right,” Jalana pushed back her jacket sleeve to her own gauntlet, hit a few buttons, and a sidearm materialized, seemingly spun from light. It was noticeably smaller than the guns they had used on Clark, but it still made Lois’s jaw tighten. “You two, stay back. We’ll handle this.”

——

A few more minutes passed before the Spider Lady set Scoops down and massaged her eyebrows.

“So close…” she muttered, “Where is your world’s Doctor Ivo?”

“I don’t know,” said Clark, attempting to inject as much grimness and gravity into ‘I don’t know’ as he could.

“Fine. Where is his lab?”

“AmazoTech is mothballed,” Clark said with a slight raise of his eyebrows.

“AmazoTech?” she repeated. He didn’t like the way she sounded so interested at the word ‘AmazoTech.’

“They made phones, mostly. And had some sketchy business practices.” Clark wasn’t sure how much he should be telling her, but if he didn’t have his powers, he figured maybe he could keep her talking until he or Lois or Jimmy figured something out. Just… make AmazoTech sound as unremarkable as possible and—

“…they didn’t just make phones, did they, though?” She was studying him, those eyes sharp. He saw a bit of the Lois he knew, here. Always getting her answers, but something about it was so much colder. She held up that small remote that would activate the shock function of his collar and he did his best to keep his gaze at her level. She was thinking about it, he could tell. He said nothing.

“No…” she murmured, reading his face and turning back to Scoops. She picked up the drone and stared inside, “The company’s logo is on some of these components,” she said.

“Yeah, AmazoTech,” said Clark, trying to sound dismissive.

“You’re hiding something,” her voice was steady, “What is it?”

Clark’s initial plan of ‘Maybe I can keep her talking until I figure something out’ was quickly collapsing. Misleading or stalling her would be easier if he had any idea what she was after.

“Is Ivo your world’s Luthor?” asked the Spider Lady.

“…I have no idea what you mean by that,” Clark said flatly. 

“Wow, you don’t—?” the Spider Lady blinked at him before saying, “No, you wouldn’t, would you?” She huffed and picked up the device she was scanning scoops with. “Something happened in your world recently, and it’s a vital catalyst to what I need.”

“Oh—it’s been pretty uneventful here,” said Clark.

The Spider Lady ignored him and kept her eyes fixed on that odd device, pacing out of the shipping container. Clark pushed up to his feet (with a slight head rush) and awkwardly ambled after her.

“What is that?” The Spider Lady pointed to the head of the remains of Ivo’s Parasite kaiju husk, just peeking out from behind a building.

“What do you mean, ‘that?’” said Clark, “I don’t see any—oh, wow, what is that?”

That earned him a shock. His jaw clacked tight as a pained grunt seethed between his teeth. He painfully dropped to one knee as his whole body seized and shook in protest at its own lack of invulnerability. She turned the shock off and he was left buckled over again, heaving breaths. Every part of him felt so heavy, like he might crush himself just by existing. He was now beginning to have serious doubts about the whole, ‘I won’t hit you with anything you can’t take’ thing.

“Don’t play dumb, Boy Scout, neither of us has time for it,” said the Spider Lady.

“Guh…” was the only noise that fell out of Clark in response, but she wasn’t even looking at him as she squinted at the husk in the distance.

“What,” she said, slower and more commanding, “Is it?”

“It’s… broken,” said Clark, feeling a muscle spasm under his eye from the residual shock, “I broke it. So whatever you’re going to try to do, you can’t use it.” Really, this was about 60% wishful thinking talking. He wasn’t sure what she could do, but he certainly didn’t like the idea of her doing anything with a giant purple parasitic kaiju suit that had nearly destroyed the city.

“Did you just try to tell a Lois she can’t do something?” The Spider Lady raised her eyebrows, amused.

“It’s just a shell,” said Clark, “Withou Ivo—” and he immediately caught himself. Oh Clark, you moron, he thought to himself.

“Doctor Ivo?” The Spider Lady repeated. Clark hated how this Lois’s eyes lit up in the same way his Lois’s did, and the way her lower lower lids flexed in that same ‘putting things together’ way as she glanced back down her device.

“So that’s it,” she said under her breath, “That’s what I need.”

“For what?” said Clark.

Something back in the shipping container started beeping. “I thought I told your friends to stay out of my way,” she scoffed as she briskly walked back into the container and started quickly packing things up. Lois and Jimmy were coming? Before, he thought it was a combination of still recovering from the blasts and shocks, and the fact that so much of his attention was fixed on the Spider Lady, what her goals might be, and how to get away from her, but now it struck him just how muted the world was. The inhibitor collar was blocking off his super-hearing. Normally, he’d be able to hear Lois and Jimmy talking at a conversational level across the city if he concentrated, now he had no clue how close they were—only that they were coming.

Stall, stall, stall, thought Clark.

“You know, if you just told people what was going on, maybe we could explain—” Clark started but the Spider Lady shoved a large metal crate into his arms and he had to maneuver his forearms accordingly in the cuffs to accept it. Wow, things were heavy now. Wait, why did he just accept that crate? Was it because his Lois was always handing him things without a second thought?

“I know better than to trust the League on anything,” said the Spider Lady, she gave a glance to the scanning device. “How far away would you say that…AmazoTech shell-thing is?”

“Oh I don’t know,” said Clark, “Buuuuut I could fly you there if you took the collar off?”

“You’re adorable,” she said flatly, pointing the device towards the husk, as if she were taking a photo on a phone. It made a whirring noise, then a beep, then a few seconds later, another beep. “Ugh… I don’t know how long it’s going to take to calibrate,” she said, swinging that massive gun down to her hip and hauling it up at the ready, with Scoops stuffed into a small satchel at her side. She took a handful of Clark’s jacket from the back, Clark feeling the remote to his collar curled in that same fist.

“Spider Lady!” A voice which sounded eerily like a female version of Jimmy called from outside the shipping container, “You’re under arrest for unauthorized universe hopping, and 17 counts of possession of multiverse contraband!”

“Oh, so now it’s contraband,” the Spider Lady yelled back, her voice reverberating on the metal of the shipping container, “You all didn’t have a problem with the poison that was flowing into my world before!”

“Submit yourself to League custody, and you can plead your case then!” A voice that sounded uncannily like a male version of Lois called.

“Stay in front of me,” the Spider Lady’s voice was half muffled into Clark’s back. She poked the toastmaster gun into his ribs, “Move.”

Clark shuffled forward to the threshold of the shipping container.

“Y’know I’m probably not a good hostage, seeing as they’ve shot me before—” said Clark.

“Move,” the Spider Lady said again.

Clark stumbled out of the shipping container to see two members of the League of Lois Lanes pointing handgun-sized sidearms at him and the Spider Lady from a handful of yards away. His mind probably should have been spinning up some daring escape attempt, some means to use the presence of the League members as a distraction so that he could get away and find a way to get the collar off, but he didn’t know how far he could get before she just shocked him again, and he also really didn’t want to make any sudden moves in front of the League after last time. So instead, his primary train of thought was, Huh. Man Lois and lady Jimmy. Did I see them last time?

“Step away from the Kryptonian,” said the girl Jimmy.

“I don’t think I will. He’s not the biggest threat to you currently, I assure you,” said the Spider Lady.

The girl Jimmy didn’t lower her weapon.

“We can talk about this, Lois,” she said grimly.

“We’ve talked plenty already,” said the Spider Lady. She fired off the toastmaster. Both the girl Jimmy and the male Lois leapt out of the way as the neon coral blast of the toastmaster blazed into the shipping container with a screech of metal, leaving a flaming, twisted hole in the steel, and another hole through the other side of the shipping container.

She hit me with that??? Clark’s mind flared into a panic, one more instance of How far does my invulnerability go? and, I really, really don’t want to test how far my invulnerability goes.

The male Lois and the female Jimmy were returning fire now. Clark brought up the steel crate the Spider Lady had handed to him for protection, though it wasn’t much to hide behind. The League members had dipped behind another shipping container, for what little protection that would apparently afford them, both of them taking turns leaning out and firing. The Spider Lady fired at the ground next to them, sending up a big plume of burnt-smelling cement dust, obscuring their line of sight. The two league members both kept firing.

“Don’t hit him!”Clark’s head jerked up at the sound of Lois—his Lois’s voice. She was leaning out from a shipping container on the opposite side.

“Lo—” he started but his entire body seized in a shock.

“CLARK!” He heard his own name as an anguished shriek from Lois as she watched him twist and convulse. Jimmy had to physically stop her from rushing into the crossfire, and she was struggling against him. “No! Stop it!”

“I told you he wouldn’t get hurt if you stayed out of my way!” said the Spider Lady. But the dust was settling from her previous fire, and with Clark spasming and staggering, he was a much less effective human shield, so she was forced to increase her own fire at Lewis and Jalana.

“Lois, get down!” Jimmy tackled Lois to the ground as fire from the Spider Lady blazed through where they had both previously been standing. There was a massive column of smoke rising from the shipping container behind them. In the midst of all the panic the Spider Lady at least managed to remember to turn the shock off again, but Clark was stumbling, his vision swimming, on the verge of collapse. A shot from Lewis grazed the Spider Lady’s arm and she let out a frustrated, snarling yell, before something beeped from the interior of her jacket.

“Finally—” she breathed out her pain in that word, firing off another blast from the toastmaster, “We’re getting out of here, boy scout.” She drew that odd device from her jacket and hit a button on it.

Before this, Clark had only picked up the fizzing sound as part of his super-hearing, it had seemed so dreamlike and distant before, but now, up close, through the hazy pain of electrocution, it was a nightmarish blend of the familiar and uncanny. He remembered when he was a kid and Pa pulled out film reels of his old favorite Gray Ghost serials, the distinctive smell of the lightbulb and film and the clackclacklclackclackclack of the film projector. He also remembered watching the serials with Pa’s arm around him, explaining characters like, ‘That’s the Femme Fatale—she’s pretty, but watch out!’ and Ma going, 'I don’t know, Jon, is he old enough for this?’ And he remembered one night when the projector overheated and the reel jammed, and a burn hole started appearing on the film. Suddenly, the Gray Ghost punching out goons on a bedsheet was having his whole torso swallowed by a sickly black ring and a white void. That’s what Clark was looking at now, he realized, a film burn hole, oily and warped, but on the fabric of reality itself. A two-dimensional shape imposing itself on the third dimension, the space browning around it.

“Clark!” he heard Jimmy yell this time, and he looked over to the source of his voice. Lois was sprinting toward him and the Spider Lady, Lewis and Jalana’s fire whizzing inches away from her, Jimmy was stumbling after her, or maybe he was running to Clark’s rescue as well?

“Guys—” he instinctively lurched toward them.

“I said, we’re going!” The Spider Lady swung her toastmaster up and suddenly clocked him hard upside the jaw with the butt of the gun. He heard a protesting, “NO!” from both Jimmy and Lois, and tasted blood in his mouth as the Spider Lady shoved him and he fell, sideways, through the portal.

“What is that?!” said Lewis, at the sight of the burn hole.

“It’s her getaway, let’s go!” said Jalana, racing out from behind the shipping container, running towards the burn hole as well.

“Wait!” Lois was ahead of both of them, sprinting toward the burn hole, but the Spider Lady only gave her a cold glance before stepping through after Clark, the portal closing behind her to a black smudge, and then nothingness. Lois stumbled and collapsed to her knees in the now empty space, panting, the air around her having that faint chemical-film smell.  She sat there, arms uselessly limp at her sides for a few seconds, staring into space.

“Where did they go?” Jimmy reeled around to face Jalana, “Where did they go!?”

“We don’t know,” Jalana’s voice was stiff.

“We were lucky just to track her to this dimension,” said Lewis.

“We have operatives in other dimensions,” said Jalana, “They’ll be able to pick up on the energy surge wherever they come through.”

Jimmy heard Lois’s breath shuddering and he turned back around to look at her. Her back was to him, her shoulders had caved inward and bunched up, and she hugged herself, buckling forward and shaking. Jimmy’s mouth drew to a thin line.

“Lois…” he reached forward and put a hand on her shoulder, “Are you…?”

“No,” she said tensely, “No, I’m not okay.” And Jimmy gently lifted his hand away from her, realizing she was shaking from rage, just as much as sadness and fear. “She put a collar on him,” her voice was incredulous, bewildered.

“We’re going to figure this out,” said Jimmy, trying to convince himself just as much as her, “The League has eyes in other dimensions, and maybe I can still patch in to Scoops—”

“Jimmy,” he could hear her breath huffing against her teeth with fury, as her head swung around to look at him, “She put a collar on my Clark.”

#my adventures with superman #clois

[mklegends-smokescreen]

Mortal Kombat Legends: Smoke Screen Chapter 2: Special Forces

The next day, some where on close by, Kano, the stereotypical Australian asshole with a laser eye, leads his Black Dragon clan into a portal to Outworld, to finally rid themselves of the Special Forces.

Kano: All right, this is it, boys. We're getting' in there and kicking some Outworld ass!

Kano, and the Black Dragon, then go through the portal.

Jax Briggs and Sonya Blade, Special Forces Majors, along with a dozen soliders followed them to the portal, but it was to late, it was already closed and they have escaped.

Jax: Shit, they got away.

Sonya: When they come back, we'll be ready, Jax...

Sub and Smoke have been spying on this situation, after being sent to investigate the commotion.

Sub Zero: What do you recon?

Smoke: We should alert the Grand master, tell him we need a way to travel between realms, to stop this, "Black Dragon". They have caused far too much chaos in this realm. And perhaps join these two, after all, strength is in numbers-

Sub Zero: Are you insane?! They could both try kill us at any moment.

Smoke: You *Really* have trust issues, huh?

Sub Zero, rolling his eyes: Fine, but if they do turn on us, I will go for the kill.

The two ninjas drop down, alerting the the Special Forces majors.

Jax, taking a stance: FREEZE!

Sonya: Did Kano leave you here to kill us?

Smoke:(geasturing toward Sub Zero) He could freeze you at any moment, and no, we are here to stop these Black Drago—

Jax: Nice try, Gray scale, you will be comin' with us, by any means nessecary.

Sub Zero: I'll handle these two, you whatch my back.

Smoke nods his head, and the fight commences. Jax charges at Sub Zero with full force, which he dodges, but is shot in his side by Sonya. Smoke is teleporting all around to knock out as many soliders as possible, while also defending Kuai. Eventually, Smoke knocks out the soliders and rushes at Sonya, pushing her out of Kuai's reach. Kuai makes an ice wall which he pushes Jax into, stunning him for a second, while Smoke is fairing well with Sonya. She shoots at him with her repulsor gautlets which he dodges by turning into mist and teleporting behind her, kicking her out of the way, Sub Zero stuck Jax to the ground and is preparing to finish Jax with an ice axe.

Smoke: Kuai, no!

Sonya ran up to Smoke, putting him into a choke hold.

Sonya: Alright, i'll ask you this one time... where is Kano?

Sub Zero: I'll do you one better, WHO is Kano?

Jax: I'll do you one better, WHY is Kano!?

Smoke seemed confused to say the least.

Sonya: You better tell me where that Ausie is, or i'm french-frying this freak.

She said, aiming her gautlet at Smoke's head

Sub Zero: Alright, you shoot my guy, i'll blast him, LETS GO!

He said creating an axe of ice    

Jax: Do it, Sonya! I can take it...

Smoke: No, he can't take it.

Sub Zero: He's right, you can't.

Sonya: You don't wanna tell me, thats fiiiine, i'll kill both of you, find and beat it out of Hsu Hao myself, starting with you-

Sub Zero recalled hearing that name before

Sub Zero: Wait, did you say Hsu H-- Ok, let me ask you this one time... What master, do you serve?

Sonya: „What master do i serve“? What am i suppose to say, JESUS?

Sub Zero melted the ice off of Jax, but still kept him on the floor

Sub Zero: You're not with them.

Sonya: No shit, Sherlock. And who are you two?

Smoke phased through Sonya's hands.

Smoke: We are Lin Kuei, madam. And we do not wish you any harm.

Sonya: Didn't really prove that to our soliders.

Sub Zero: They're not dead, just knocked out cold.

Jax: Thats believable, commin' from you, Chill Bill.

Sub Zero, lending his hand to help Jax up: Give up the sense of humor, and i might not need to freeze you completely.

Jax, pushing Sub Zero's hand away: I hope not. Name's Jax Briggs, Special Forces major, and thats commander Sonya Blade.

Smoke: Tomas Vrbada, but you may call me Smoke, and this is my closest friend, Kuai Liang. He bares the mantile of Sub Zero. I believe there is a way to find this, Kano with ease, Commander, if you trust us, that is.

Jax, who stood up and whispered to Sonya: Maybe they're right, we could use the help.

Sonya: (releases a sigh) Alright, but we need to take you with us to our HQ for questioning.

Sonya calls a chopper to take everyone with them, along with Smoke and Kuai, it takes about thirty minutes for it to get there but they waited out and they took off to the Special Forces Head Quarters.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat au #mortal Kombat legends #kuai liang #mk sub zero #mk smoke #tomas vrbada