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some-kindofgnome · 3 years

Text

tastes so bitter (tastes so sweet)

You’re driving back from an out-of-town mission with Hawks when your car breaks down on a very sparsely-populated highway. While you await relief, things get... personal.

characters: takami keigo (hawks) x f!reader

word count: 7.1k

warnings: smut (18+ please!), car sex, pro hero!reader, angst, emotionally unavailable hawks

notes: ta-dah!!! the car sex fic! this turned out way longer and way more feelsy than I ever intended it to be. but I’m grateful for the chance to show you how I play with plot and emotion as well as some good porn. porn with feelings, y’know?

EDIT: The supremely talented @la-saffron has created an absolutely spectacular piece of artwork for this fic! Please go and look at it right here, it’s really quite splendid

Masterlist

The shadowy trees on either side of the highway cast a chill across the pavement as the sky went dark.

It was far from sunset, but the woods were so tall and thick that the light had disappeared from the road a long time ago. The overpriced navigation system laid into the dashboard of Hawks’ luxurious car was no help at all; not when you were taking the only road for miles around.

The highway narrowly passed for two lanes, winding precariously down from the mountains. Dotted with reflective yellow signs- deer crossing, bear crossing, creatures-of-unimaginable-horror crossing. Bigfoot himself could have wandered into your headlights and you barely would’ve flinched.

But that was to be expected, given where you’d come from.

That day’s mission brought you both far, far away from the city. There was a national forest about three hours away- one of the biggest in the country- and you and Hawks had been called in at the crack of fucking dawn to drive all the way out to the woods and investigate some ‘strange reports,’ as the rangers cared to call them.

Most park rangers knew what they were seeing when guests came in from the woods reporting abnormal happenings. Nobody was truly immune to fear, though, when faced with the impossible.

Whether there were paranormal creatures lurking in those woods or not, you couldn’t have been sure. But after spending the day exhausting both your quirks combing every spare inch of those woods, you were relieved of your overnight duties by a group of other, more nature-savvy heroes.

Hawks had been miffed, but too exhausted to argue. He didn’t like to think he’d been overshadowed. You were just thankful to be going home to your own bed.

“Okay,” you sighed, nursing the last of a lukewarm soda from a burger joint at the edge of the only one-horse town you’d passed through. It was a pretty unassuming stop for dinner, but you and Hawks both agreed that the burgers were way too good to be sold to so few patrons.

Keigo was driving, with one palm splayed lazily across the bottom edge of the wheel. His scarlet wings stretched into the backseat, draping over the shoulders of his black leather backrest like some bizarre kind of seat cover.

The fact that his car was so luxurious was not lost on you- although you were more surprised to find out that he had one at all. Hawks seemed like the last person in the world to need a car, after living in a fantastic downtown penthouse. And owning a pair of wings, come to think of it.

He owned it because he could. And because he knew how good he looked in the driver’s seat.

“What?” He turned a curious eye toward you, though he never quite pulled his gaze from the road.

“I know we started this conversation on the way here,” you began, “but… we never exactly finished it.” You swirled what was left of the ice chips in the bottom of your cup, considering the best way to voice your thoughts.

“Alright.” He sounded vaguely amused, slouching a little further down and drawing an idle palm over his feathered hair. “Shoot.”

“Well…” You trailed off. “You’re kind of… a city guy.” You were already starting to talk with your hands. The racket coming from your half-drunk soda was proof enough.

“What makes you say that?”

“You are,” you defended. You let a playful edge creep into your tone. “And the agency’s kind of a city thing.”

“Am I really as one-note as you’re making me out to be?” He was chuckling. Your cheeks were going hot. You weren’t sure how this became a personal conversation, but you were determined to steer it in the proper direction. You course corrected.

“I just mean, we don’t take a lot of jobs outside the city. Like… ever. So, what’s with this one? Why this call?”

He didn’t answer right away. When you glanced across the car, he was licking his lips and appearing to be, very genuinely, thinking.

“Well,” he began. There was an immensely appealing depth that wore around the edges of his voice when he was deep in thought. You hung on tightly, trying your best to hide how intently you listened.

“I was just… bored, I guess.” He gave a lazy little shrug. His eyes were still trained on the windshield, but you could feel the weight of his urges. He wanted to look over. You turned your head, willing him to.

“Probably sounded like bullshit, now that I think about it,” he confessed, “but if there really was somethin’ freaky in those woods… I dunno. I wanted to see it.”

You resisted the urge to snort.

“Maybe you should start a ghost hunting branch at the agency.”

“Aw, c’mon,” he protested. This time, he really did drag his eyes away from the road for a second. They glinted playfully in the dark. You got a flash of pearly canine from the barest hint of a grin, but it was enough to put a stupid smile right across your face.

A sickening thud from beneath the hood zapped any false confidence you’d been building. There was a dull pop, then the engine died.

“What the- shit.” Hawks scrambled to put both hands on the wheel, navigating the car with what momentum remained over to the narrow shoulder. The tires hit gravel and soft mud, rolling pathetically to a stop and settling in damp silence.

“What the hell was that?” You leaned over the dashboard as your pulse came down from near-terminal velocity. There were half a dozen lights blinking away on the dashboard- symbols you couldn’t understand.

“Not sure.” Keigo was doing his best not to sound too perturbed. As a result, he was just perturbed enough.

You knew what those lights implied, though. Service due. Oil change due. Battery maintenance due.

“Jesus Christ,” you hissed, “when was the last time you took this car in for service? It’s a miracle you even made it out of the goddamn garage.”

Hawks was in the process of mashing the engine start button like an arcade game. When you spoke up, he pushed it down and held. The engine gave a dull, sad sort of sputter, but nothing roared to life.

“Look, look,” he dismissed, waving a hand in your direction as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “I don’t drive this thing that often, okay? I’m gonna go check under the hood.”

He climbed out of the driver’s side and slammed the door before giving you the chance to remind him to pop the hood. For a minute, you let him wallow in his mistake, watching gleefully as he pried at the seam of it. Finally, you unbuckled yourself and leaned over, flicking the release for him.

He gave an unamused glance toward the windshield and lifted the hood, obscuring all but the very tips of his drooping wings from view.

After about fifteen seconds, he ducked back into the car with a rush of cold air behind him. He rubbed his palms together as you watched, arms folded over your chest.

“So?” You prompted. He gave a sideways glance in your direction, blowing into his chilled hands.

“So what?”

“Oh my g- what’s wrong with the car?” You tried your best not to let panic set in.

“I don’t know. It’s just a bunch of pipes and wires under there. They didn’t exactly give me a map of the thing when I bought it.”

You’d seen Hawks pull people out of burning buildings before. You’d see him think on his feet, devise a plan and act on it in the blink of an eye. Usually, he was impulsive. Confident. Clever.

Tonight, on the other hand, he was demonstrating a very clear affinity for money over brains.

You flopped into your seat, scrubbing your hands over your face. You were not going to freak out. You refused to. It didn’t matter that Keigo had suddenly become useless in the face of disaster. You were heroes, even if you had to save your damned selves.

“Oh,” he quipped from beside you. “Still got bars. See?” As you peeked over at him through one cracked eyeball, he waved his illuminated phone screen at you. “It could be worse, kid. If this were a horror movie, this thing’d be dead.”

He tapped away on the screen, seeming very pleased with himself. Even his wings gave a little ruffle, draping themselves smoothly over the back of his seat again.

“I’ll call us a tow. We’ll be outta here in no time.”

A few minutes later, you had a map pulled up on your phone while Hawks’ brow creased deeper and deeper.

“Uh-huh.” His voice had taken on that irresistible deepness to it again, but this time it was sending pangs of dread through your gut.

“Right.” He brought a palm up to smooth over his jaw, fingertips bending and pressing idly against the patches of scruff that dusted it. “Y-yep, yeah, I understand. Fifty miles is a long way. I know it’s gonna be a lot to send a truck that far. But-“

As he was abruptly cut off by the other end of the line, those idle fingers slipped up to his temple, pressing inward and rubbing in stiff little circles.

“Okay. Alright. Yeah, I guess we’ll wait, ‘cause there’s not much else we can… I understand. Yes, thank you. Thank you. Okay, we’ll be here. Or within a ten-foot radius. Thanks. B-“

He blinked rapidly at the screen as he pulled it away from his ear. “Have an excellent night, sir,” he muttered under his breath. He let out a deep sigh, lifting a hip to tuck his phone away again.

“They said they would send someone,” he said, “but the depot is, like, fifty miles from here. Could be a couple of hours.”

“A couple hours?” That cold dread was settling into your chest again. So much for sleeping in your own bed.

“Yeah. C’mon, get out.”

“What?” You glanced past him at the frosted driver’s side window. “It looks freezing out there.”

“Well then, you’d better bundle up. C’mon. I’m gonna fly us back to the city.”

“No way. Hawks- Keigo.” You grabbed his arm and squeezed tightly as he made to get out of the car.

“What?” Exasperation was creeping into the edges of his voice. The sides of his gaze, too, as he landed against the seat back with a thud and turned his cheek to look at you.

“You’ve been flying all day. Your wings are shot. You’re not flying anywhere.”

“What? They’re fine.” He gave the appendages in question a defiant flutter and a cloud of expiring feathers floated into the backseat.

You folded your arms across your chest. Hawks gave a frustrated growl.

“What do you suggest, then?” He retorted in fierce opposition to your silence. “Just sit around and fucking… die of old age before the tow truck comes?”

“Oh my god, you’re the number two hero,” you snapped back. “When did you become such a drama queen? Yes, we’re going to wait. Like a normal person would have to.”

“I’m not being dramatic; I’m presenting you with a legitimate solution and you’re ignoring it!”

“If you try to fly us both out of here, you’re gonna hit the ground before we’re halfway home. And then we’ll be really stranded, with no water and no shelter. So, if you’d like to fly back all by yourself, I can’t stop you. But I’m not going to let you kill both of us.”

“Fine!” Hawks’ cheeks were flushed with temper as he kicked the door open and clambered out of the car. He kicked it shut again so hard the whole body rocked, and for a moment you were left, trapped in shocked silence.

He was really going to leave you out here. Alone.

Half a dozen heartbeats passed before his boots crunched on the shoulder and he wrenched the door open again, flopping back into the car with an immense sigh of irritated defeat.

“Fuckin’ freezing out there,” he muttered as quietly as possible.

You wanted to punch him.

“You ready to wait?”

His wings stiffened behind him, then drooped so lowly they seemed to disappear into the backseat. He looked at you from the corner of one tawny eye.

“Yeah.”

For the first hour, you honestly enjoyed yourself. As soon as Keigo accepted his fate, he got much closer to his usual mellow self. You finished off cold fries from dinner, listened to true crime podcasts on your phone, (you listened- he talked over the whole thing) and played a few ruthless games of hangman on a couple of napkins you found in the glove compartment.

You’d spent a lot of time with Hawks in a professional capacity. As partners, you took most of your missions together. You were well-versed in the way that he liked to think, the way he approached a job, a conversation. You worked well with each other and you were drawn to his quick wit and laid-back humour. Even if he was a piece of work at times, you made a strong team. But you didn’t do a whole lot of hanging out.

“Okay, that’s it,” he chided as you added an extravagant top hat to the completed, dressed hangman scrawled onto the inside fold of your last napkin. The word he’d failed to guess was ‘patience,’ and the irony of his struggling was not lost on you.

“Aw, c’mon,” you protested. “You’ve still got gloves and a bow tie left.”

“No, no, no.” He held up a palm, shaking his head. There was a good-natured grin curling his lip as he bowed toward the door. “I’m callin’ it. I gotta take a leak.”

You snatched your soda cup from the drink holder, clutching it protectively against your chest.

“You’re not going in here.”

Next, it was Hawks’ turn to shoot you a deadpan stare.

“How about in the woods? Is that allowed?”

Your cheeks went hot. “It’s pretty dark out there.”

“Aw.” Hawks shoved the door open. There was an unfamiliar glint to his eye as he tossed a mischievous look over his shoulder. “Guess you won’t be able to sneak a peek, then.”

You slammed your fist into his back. “Shut up and go take a piss.”

As the car door clicked shut, you turned the other way out of sheer habit. All you could see in the opposite window was the reflection of your own face. Maybe it was just the dim light, but you looked exhausted. Keigo had seen you caked in blood, streaked by mud and soot before. But you’d both been awake since four o’clock that morning and there was a special kind of ugly feeling that came with overtiredness.

You were dreaming about the first thing you’d do when you got home again when Hawks climbed back into the car. He looked considerably brighter as he ducked inside, and he brought a flush of rich, earthy forest-smell along with him.

“Don’t tell me you couldn’t find it in the cold out there,” you quipped. Payback.

But Keigo just chuckled, shaking his head.

“Close the door,” you whined as the frigid air from outside finally reached your bare arms. “It’s already cold enough in here.”

“Aw,” he crooned, tugging the door shut behind him. “You scared of a little cold now, kid? It’s not so bad out there. Feel.”

He lunged at you, ducking rapidly to rub his frigid cheek against your shoulder. You let out a terse yelp and squirmed, trying to shove him back amid a sea of chilled giggles. He got a few passes of his icy skin on yours before you both realized how close you’d gotten.

Hawks cleared his throat and scooted away from you. In the bare light from the shitty overhead lamp, you were starting to see the outline of a flush creeping into his cheeks.

The light abruptly went out, leaving you in darkness again.

“Tell me something,” he mused, grabbing for the abandoned takeout bag and digging a hand into it. He produced a tiny wrapped square and tore it open with his teeth, removing the folded alcohol wipe from inside and gliding it with impossible grace over his fingertips. He eyed you sideways.

“How come we don’t hang out more?”

Your chest went cold. You’d been dreading that question all night. Longer than that, even.

“What d’you mean?” It was a gut response, but you instantly kicked yourself for even attempting to play dumb.

“You know,” he chided, dumping the wipe back into the paper bag once he was finished with it. “We work. We do interviews together. We do those bullshit PR functions together. I’ve known you- what, two years? And we’ve never even been for a drink. What gives, kid? Don’t tell me I grate on you.”

“I get plenty of you on company time,” you retorted. You were starting to panic. You weren’t ready for this conversation, but it didn’t seem like you were going to be rescued by the timely arrival of the tow truck.

“Okay, okay, I’d take that,” he laughed, “if you hadn’t agreed to take this mission with me. C’mon, this wasn’t exactly a nine-to-five gig.”

He paused. “Come out with me this weekend.” He nudged your shoulder with a bony elbow. You tried your best not to snap.

“Stop,” you pressed quietly. “You know why we don’t.”

The smirk slipped from Keigo’s face.

“What? Why?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Wait a second, there’s an actual reason? What the hell is it?”

The confusion was genuine on his face. Hawks could be a smarmy little shit when he wanted to be. But you could tell he wasn’t fucking with you.

“Oh my god.” The words slipped out like a deep breath. Your hand drifted to your mouth as cold shock ran over your skin. “You really don’t remember.”

“No.” His confusion was bordered with fear. He sat back a little, letting his eyes drift over your expression. “No, I really don’t.”

You swallowed hard. You should have known that you’d have to talk about this eventually. But he didn’t even remember the night that had been changing the way you acted around him for nearly a year.

“Last Christmas,” you began. Your breath was so short that it put a desperate hush to your voice that you absolutely hated. You revelled in your ability to act casual around him, but the more probing he got, the harder that composure was slipping.

“At the agency gala. You remember the party, right?”

Hawks rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, and I got trashed.” He paused. Realization dawned on his face, and he shot you the deepest, most sincere look of concern you’d ever seen. Even more sincere than the look that crossed his face when you got shot off the roof of a house and broke a rib.

He leaned forward.

“Did I do something?” He swept a palm over his mouth, fingertips dallying at his chin. You knew exactly how he felt in that moment. You’d been there before, too, realizing that you’d lost control. Blacked out. Understanding that you might have done something you were going to regret.

“You really don’t remember a thing?” It was your turn to be horrified. How could something that consumed your every thought stay so damned far from his?

His fingers were still curved around the point of his chin. He’d gone white, and he shook his head as his eyes cast down to his lap.

“You fucking kissed me, okay?” You snarled with a whip of frustration. “There was mistletoe and you kissed me under it and-and Christ, I can’t believe you.”

“What? What?” He demanded as his voice grew defensively sharp.

“I had no idea what you were gonna do. What you were gonna say, what was gonna change between us. I showed up to the agency the next morning and your hungover ass acted like nothing had ever happened.”

“Of course I did,” he defended, “I didn’t think anything did happen. Oh my God, did I really kiss you?” His wings were coming to life all of a sudden, bristling on either side of his seat. There was a dull whisp as one edge of them brushed against the window. They seemed to expand, along with his horror, to fill the entire car.

He pushed further. “Well, did you… did you want me to?”

You could see where his thoughts were taking him. The answer was an impossible dilemma. To lead him further down that path would not only be cruel, it would be untrue. But to tell him the truth- that you had wanted it- would be to shatter the fragile illusion of casual, platonic intimacy that you’d been building over the last two years.

You chewed your lower lip. Hard enough to hurt.

“Oh god, you didn’t,” he gasped. That was enough for you to lift your chin and shoot him a sudden, sad, pathetic little look.

“Jesus,” he gasped again, deeper this time. “You did.”

“Look,” you snapped. “I was never gonna say anything to you. I was never gonna push it. You didn’t feel that way and I knew that and I just wanted to work.”

He told you enough about his personal life as it was. Every date he swung in from on Monday morning, every Friday night he spent preening in the last hours of the workday hurt enough already. If you’d grown close, fallen harder, it would’ve become too much to bear.

“What do you mean, I didn’t feel that way? What way don’t I feel? How could you even know that?” He was beginning to raise his voice back at you and the adrenaline was pushing you way too far to listen.

“Because you never said a fucking word to me about that kiss! You pretended like it never even happened, Kei! What was I supposed to think!”

“If you’d asked me, you woulda known that I didn’t speak up ‘cause I didn’t remember a goddamn thing!” Keigo jammed a finger into his temple. His golden eyes flashed. He was so fucking hot when he was angry, but this was not a fight you ever wanted to have.

Luckily for you, he was having it without you.

“What do you want me to say to that?” He snarled. “Huh? What- you want me to tell you that I’m sorry for not having psychic powers? That I’m sorry I didn’t hire a mind-reader to tell me what the fuck was going on with you?”

He scrubbed his hands over his face. You were on the verge of tears.

“I-I never-“ you began, but Keigo beat you to the punch,

“You know, maybe I noticed that you were actin’ funny around me. And maybe I should’ve asked. But maybe if you ask yourself, and if you really, honestly give yourself the truest answer, you’d be able to admit that you knew how I felt about you. That you always knew.”

“Of course I knew!”

Your response echoed raw and deafening in the silence of the car. You’d lost your temper and shouted it at him with every decibel left in your breathless chest. Your fists were clenched atop your frigid thighs as you bent over in your seat, shivering. To your immense embarrassment, warm tears trickled down the sides of your nose.

He was right, after all. Every sideways smile he’d given you was just a little too broad to be friendly. Every time he caught you by the hand, he held it just a little too long. Every time he offered you the crook of his elbow at a stuffy charity gala and every time he poured you into a cab at the end of the night, he promised to take good care of you. Every time he looked at you at all it was with a depth that you had recognized, but never understood.

“But look at us, Kei. Look at what we do to each other.”

You sniffled, scrubbing tears off your cheeks with the heels of your hands. He reached for you, seeking to comfort, but his hands twitched midair and he drew back instead.

“Yeah,” he croaked. You tossed a glance in his direction. He looked more dejected than you’d seen him in a long time. He rested both hands on top of the wheel, the rest of his body sagging against the seat back.

“Except now I’ve told you,” you continued. “And now we both know, so everything’s fucked no matter what.”

You were met with silence. The truth was dawning on you. You hated to even consider it, but it felt like what needed to be done.

“When we get back to the city,” you started. Hawks interrupted you with a low rasp of your name.

“No, when we get back, I’m giving you my resignation.”

“Fuck, stop.”

Keigo lunged, grabbing you by the back of the neck and pulling you toward him. He rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. The warmth of his closeness weighed on you like a heavy quilt. You couldn’t even pretend not to be immensely comforted by affection from him.

“I’m not gonna let you do that, kid.”

You were both drawing deep breaths- slow, rolling gulps of air that matched over gradual time. You licked your lips, bracing your chilled palms on his shoulders. Your fingertips brushed the very edges of his feathered hair, dull and soft in the dark.

You’d talked each other down from bigger, badder edges before. But this one had sharp, jagged rocks waiting at the bottom. This one, you were going to have to jump from together.

“I can’t do this,” you pleaded. “I can’t keep myself away from you like this.”

“Don’t.” His voice was hushed and so achingly tender, like he couldn’t take the command himself.

“I can’t-“

“Then, don’t.”

He was firmer this time, and the pad of his thumb brushed the bottom of your lip. He pulled back just a hair, grazing the tip of his nose across yours. The heat of his breath puffed over your lips and his blonde eyelashes threatened to tickle your cheek.

He drew in a slow, calculated breath.

“Lemme kiss you. Lemme try again. I’m not gonna forget it this time, I swear.”

“Keigo, please.”

“Just lemme try. Just once. I’ll never ask you again, if you don’t want me to.” He pulled back the rest of the way and your body keened at the loss, but he looked deeply into your eyes. Deeply like he’d never been allowed to look before.

You licked your lips. Considered it for half a heartbeat. Then you gave a slow little nod.

“Okay.”

To your surprise, he didn’t lunge again. He took his time with you. He cupped your cheeks tenderly between his bare palms, memorizing the curve of your face. He stared, taking you in like this. At his mercy.

Finally, he leaned in and captured your mouth in a soft kiss, heartbreakingly loving. You responded eagerly, blossoming beneath his touch and bracing your hands on the broad plane of his chest. Your fingers curled in the fleece that lined his coat.

You kissed back with near-desperate urgency, shamelessly showing him how touch-starved you’d become. Dating was pointless when Keigo stole your whole heart every time you showed up to work.

The quiet press of his tongue had your jaw going slack in his hands. Your kiss went needy all at once, and he licked into your mouth with a hunger behind his movements that you never anticipated sensing from him.

You broke from him first, turning your cheek to him as your lungs burned. Your mouth was swollen, and you gasped greedily for whatever stale air lingered between you. He grabbed your chin and forced your eyes back to his.

His gaze was fearsome. Ravenous. You were powerless beneath it.

You combed your fingers through his hair like you’d always wanted to, settling your palm at the nape of his neck. Your own voice was nearly unrecognizable, nothing more than a feral growl.

“Get in the back.”

Hawks took one look at the narrow gap between his seat and yours and sat up, nudging the driver’s side door open. He climbed eagerly into the road and then back into the back seat, settling in the center with his legs and wings splayed wide.

Meanwhile, you took the opportunity to wiggle out of your boots and pants and slam dunk everything into the foothold of the passenger’s seat. You climbed over the center console in your underwear and settled into his lap.

Even though you had to bow your head against the cushioned ceiling, it was a holy sensation. Your thighs settled perfectly into the crooks of Keigo’s legs, and his hands slid so naturally over the curves of your hips. It was as if you’d done this before.

You kissed him again, using the weight of your newly boosted height to descend hard and loving against his lips. He grabbed you hard by the ass, drawing you smooth and tight against his hips.

“God,” he groaned eagerly into your mouth.

“You’re so. Fucking. Perfect,” you hissed back into his, and he squeezed you harder, breaking his lips from yours to trail a hungry path of kisses along the edge of your jaw. His scruff scratched at your chin just like you imagined it would. You loved him like this- trimmed, unshaven. The rougher, the better.

“Don’t say that,” he purred dangerously close to your ear. “You’ve seen me at my worst.”

You tried not to grin, remembering Keigo barfing over the balcony of the Plaza after one too many charity-benefit martinis. Keigo caked in ooze after cutting open that sludge villain from the inside. Keigo on the verge of tears, just a few minutes ago.

“I still think so,” you pressed, and he smiled against your cheek. His wings, tired and bruised but majestic as ever, stiffened proudly. They were capped firmly by the cramped space that surrounded you, but the feathers that spread across the back seat were sleek and graceful.

You dug your fingertips between his jacket and his t-shirt, feeling the warmth of his torso all over. He did his best to shrug it open, but the material was caught up on his wings- no getting it off now.

He wound his hands into the hem of his shirt and tugged it up for you. The skin you could feel by slipping your fingers underneath was all you were going to get.

Not that it mattered to you. It was far more than you’d let yourself so much as picture before. While you felt your way across his heated abdomen, he dipped his head to your pulse point. He scraped the points of his teeth across your tender flesh, making you sigh and shiver. He pressed a hand to the small of your back to keep you close and nibbled all the way down to your neckline, leaving a trail of tiny welts in his wake.

They would fade by morning. Tonight, the feeling was enough.

He glided smooth, tender fingers up your sides. You straightened, letting him wedge your long-sleeved t-shirt up around your shoulders. You had to bend even further and press your forehead awkwardly against his shoulder to wrench it off. Once he peeled the fabric over your head, you tossed it haphazardly toward the front seat. Keigo was already going to work on his fly.

The tender press of his erection had grown apparent by that point, stiff and needing down one thigh of his thick pants. You reached between your legs and palmed it indulgently. There was an answering throb of arousal in the pit of your belly as you felt the shape and thickness of it trapped against his body, and an even stronger one when his hips pressed into your touch and he gave a low rumble of approval.

“Don’t act so surprised,” he crooned. With his pants unfastened, and the bulk of his cock shifted to the stretchy pouch of his undershorts, he slid a fingertip down the plane of your belly and curled two graceful digits between your thighs.

“Are you wet for me yet?” He shot you a deep, lustful stare. You rocked your hips against his fingers, hopeless in resisting the pleasure he offered. Keigo nudged the crotch of your thong easily aside, dipping his middle finger against your slit.

He sucked a sharp breath through clenched teeth as you gave a simultaneous yelp of stimulation. When he looked up at you again, he bore a sly little grin. You’d seen it a thousand times before, but never with such desire. And never all for you.

“You’re drippin’, kid.” He arched his palm, slipping that finger slowly upward and easing it inside you. There was no stretch, but the sensation of intimacy- of being felt in such a way by those hands that you’d never dared to fantasize about- was intoxicating in its own right.

Keigo was, apparently, feeling it, too. His eyes were deeply lidded, glazed completely by his own desire. The tip of his cock had found its way over the waistband of his undershorts, weeping shiny precum against his stomach and the bottom of his shirt.

He curled a blunt fingertip inside you, massaging your tender front wall. The feeling rappelled up the column of your spine and brought deep trembles forward. It brought fresh handfuls of wet slick from your depths, gliding down his palm and between his fingers. He took the hints your body offered and rubbed faster, watching the way your expression morphed from desire to pleasure.

“Stop,” you hushed, leaning forward and pushing your lips to his. He drew his hand back from you immediately, settling it on your thigh. The wet little print it left against your skin wasn’t lost on you.

“Something wrong?”

“No,” you replied. “Just ready for you.”

He gave a low, loving little chuckle and shifted beneath you. “Can’t hold out any longer?”

You smiled into his hair. “Don’t want to.”

“Fair enough.” His smile was even, but the tug in his voice betrayed his fraying nerves. It thrilled you to know that you weren’t the only one putting way too much emotional stock in this. It was immensely validating to discover that he’d been anticipating it, too.

He wiggled and squirmed against the backseat, shucking his pants and underwear down over his thighs and letting his cock pop out. It bobbed against his stomach- thicker than you’d imagined- framed by a trimmed scruff of tawny hair that disappeared under his shirt.

“Fuck,” you sighed in spite of yourself.

“I know, right?” He rasped. He reached for you, cupping your jaw. He brought your forehead down to his, giving a weak laugh. “What the hell have we been waitin’ for?”

“We just needed the bottle episode to shove us together,” you giggled. “C’mon, we’re a walking trope right about now.”

“We’re about to become a different trope if you don’t let me fuck you.” It was his turn to play the desperate card. But the ache between your thighs had not dulled, even a little.

He wrapped his fingers around the base of his shaft and you lifted your hips. He gave the heated tip a playful little swipe along your slick slit, but his game backfired when both of you let out tight cries of sensation.

You rocked your hips forward, taking his tip eagerly inside. The sensation was toe-curling, made even better by the way he held you tightly against him, nosing at your ear and kissing any patch of skin he could reach.

He brought his free palm to your ass as soon as you were situated, helping you slide the rest of the way onto his cock. With your knees braced on either side of his lap and your feet pressed tightly against the front seat, you let him bottom out. And for a moment, you just sat there.

“Jesus,” Keigo sighed, lolling his head against the seat behind him. You still had your head deeply bowed, trapped in the space that seemed just an inch too tight.

“I…” Your thighs shuffled. Your hips gave a little squirm. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough. Keigo cracked an eye and lifted his chin, sensing a problem.

“What’s the matter?”

“I just…” Your cheeks went hot. You licked your lips. “I can’t move.”

His gaze cast downward, to the place where you were joined. He took in the press of your thighs, the curve of your neck. He snorted.

“No, you can’t. C’mere, kid, I gotcha.” He planted that palm on your ass again, drawing your hips forward and up, as far as you could take them. Your head and neck bowed with the rest of your back as he draped your upper body over his chest and held you tightly against him.

Then he planted his feet and gave one good, deep thrust. Your innards gave a jerk. Oh, fuck.

“That’s it,” you panted into his ear. He nodded tensely.

“Yeah?” He prompted. “That’s workin’ for ya? Alright, alright. We’ve got this, kid, c’mon. Lemme show you somethin’ good, okay?”

One thrust sent you spiralling. But the rhythm that he dove into- steady, tough, fluid- sent every nerve through your body into meltdown. You were entirely incapable of dealing with such pleasure, combined with the emotions that swirled through your lovestruck brain.

It felt as though you had been holding out needlessly for all this time. Like all the hurt and frustration and heartbreak you shed over him would be evaporated, now that you understood that he wanted you like this, too.

Like that was all there was. You, Hawks, and the free love you could now share.

“I’m n-not-“ Keigo stuttered, piping up after a series of breathless pants and airy groans, “n-not gonna last much longer, kid, you’re… really gonna make me feel it.”

“Yeah,” you breathed back. You looped your arms tightly around his neck, tilting your hips forward. You could feel the barest hint of stimulation when your clit brushed his belly, so you leaned into it- aching for your own release.

His rhythm doubled as the intensity of your pleasure spiked dangerously high, and when you gripped him hard and rocked your hips in time with his, there was a low, warning pull that echoed all the way up to your throat. You were close. Very close.

Your head dropped backward and Keigo leaned forward, drawing his mouth up the vulnerable column of your throat. He panted hard and heavy against your pulse point.

“That’s it, kid, that’s fuckin’ it, baby, oh, God, I’m g-gonna f-fucking… I- shit, I- can’t… fffuck!”

Keigo let a vicious roar tear from his throat as he reached his vibrant peak. His erratic thrusts brought you to a tight little climax, too, and you clung to him and whined and rode through the pleasure as he fucked madly up inside you, spurting messy shots of cum into your depths.

Gravity took hold of his pleasure, dripping it onto his shaft and pooling it in a sloppy mess between you. And when it was all finally over, you collapsed against his body and you both stayed, airless and spent, wrapped tightly around one another.

It was the bright flash of headlights on the back of his neck that brought you to the surface, moments later.

The inside of the car was warm and stuffy and damp. Had you just come in from outside, you might have realized that it reeked of sex. Sweat and breath and fluid and feeling. The windows were near-opaque, fogged by the dampness of your lovemaking.

It was a moment you might have loved to capture, if you weren’t about to be so rudely interrupted.

The light in your rear windshield was bright white and flashing orange. Unmistakable.

“The tow truck,” you wheezed, scrambling off of Keigo’s lap. “Oh, fuck.”

“Get dressed,” he muttered weakly, already scrambling to get himself cleaned up and decent. He was far more dressed than you were, so you did your best to climb back into the passenger’s seat and slide back into your own clothes. You banged your shin hard on the center console, and your head on the ceiling as your body flailed in retaliation. You crumpled into the front seat and nearly kneed yourself in the mouth trying to scramble back into your pants.

By the time you climbed out of the car, fully dressed, with a few additional bruises, Hawks was already standing on the shoulder, talking to the driver. The driver was wagering a few guesses on what might be wrong with the car. Hawks’ eyes had already glazed over.

“Hey,” he greeted, as he spotted you emerging over his shoulder. He introduced you quietly to the driver before the ballcap-wearing, bearded man spoke again.

“Yeah,” he gruffed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll give you a lift to garage nearby. It’s kinda late, but he keeps weird hours. I bet he’ll take a look for you, it’s prob’ly an easy fix.”

“That sounds great,” you gushed, clasping your palms together. There was a lot of stiffness settling in around your hips and thighs. You couldn’t be sure if it was a result of the compromising position you’d nearly been discovered in or the whole lot of not moving you’d done for hours before that.

Either way, it felt good to stretch your legs.

“You c’n go ahead and hop in the back,” the driver directed, waving the key that Keigo had apparently already given him in indication. “I’ll get you hooked up, no problem.”

Keigo opened the truck door for you, and you climbed over the passenger’s seat into the back. He followed closely behind you, tugging the door shut and slouching into the opposite side.

You sat in silence; hands clasped between your knees. A confusing air settled between you.

You felt vulnerable and raw and moony. You wanted to hold his hand and curl up to him in the back seat. Kiss his cheeks and tell him how good it was, tell him how much you felt.

For you, though, it could never be that simple. There was no free love for heroes like you.

Pay later, always.

Keigo felt the weight of your gaze. He turned to meet your eyes and shot you a thin smile. You’d seen the look that he’d turned to hide from you, though.

The truck driver climbed into the front seat before words could pass between you. But you didn’t need to hear them to know what they were going to be.

You didn’t need a warning to understand what Monday morning at the agency was going to look like.

#hawks x reader #hawks #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo #hawks x you #takami keigo x you #boku no hero academia #mha fanfic #my hero academia #bnha fanfic

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elentiyawhitethorn · 3 years

Note

Modern au where feyre and Rhys are roommates and she accidentally kisses him

I Do Bad Things with You

Smut//2486 words

“Gods, do you ever shut up?” Feyre snapped.

Not that she was actually angry. She pissed at herself if anything, for being so fucking wet for her piece-of-shit roommate, even when he was being annoying.

Rhys just smirked. “I was only saying-”

“That maybe next time I should come home earlier so I don’t interrupt your beauty sleep with my loud stomping,” cut in Feyre.

When Rhys had seen her miniskirt and red lipstick, he knew exactly where she was headed. And he had preceded to comment on how loud she had been last time she’d returned from hooking up with some guy - Isaac maybe? - when she had apparently very noisily awoken him in the early hours of the morning.

Rhys winced. “I was only suggesting you try to be a bit more mindful of your surroundings-”

Feyre interrupted once more. “Mindful of my surroundings? Like all the times you’ve brought home some girl and made her scream in the room literally right across from mine? Do you know how hard it is to get to sleep with earbuds in at the loudest volume so you don’t have to hear your annoying roommate fucking some random chick?”

Rhys didn’t even have to decency to look embarrassed. He just smirked that smug smirk of his and said, “They certainly seem to enjoy it, don’t they?”

“Good lord,” Feyre muttered. Though while she may fake irritation, something tight coiled in her gut. Thinking back on the noises those women made, they did seem to enjoy it. And Feyre couldn’t stop herself from wondering what kind of noises Rhys could draw out of her.

Rhys and Feyre had moved in together totally by accident. Feyre’s best friend Mor had set up this whole situation just to bother her, probably, being Rhys’ cousin. She had thought they could become friends at first, and when he had turned out to be a smirky, egotistical jerk, avoiding him had seemed the better option. But Rhys was always there; helping Feyre with random shit, flirting, bothering her when she told him to piss off, flirting some more...

And now he somehow had the nerve to point out his skills in the bedroom right after criticizing Feyre’s ability to walk without sounding like Bigfoot.

“How about this?” Feyre started. “I’ll remember to tiptoe when I come home. You stop bringing ladies who don’t know how to be quiet into our apartment. And we end this conversation becasue I am really not in the mood right now.”

Rhys sighed dramatically. “Fine. But only if you also promise to stop being so rude. I’ve only ever been nice to you, Feyre.”

If anyone else had said something like that, Feyre would have felt like shit. She never meant to hurt anyone’s feelings (unless they really deserved it). But from the mischievous twinkle in Rhys’ eyes, she knew he was just trying to provoke her. Bastard.

“Go fuck yourself,” Feyre said flatly, and took a step toward the door. Past Rhys.

And, of course, she tripped over the edge of the rug. Because nothing in this fucking apartment could be easy. Not with him.

Feyre slammed into Rhys with a shriek, and they both hit the ground. Rhys had cushioned Feyre’s fall, so she wasn’t hurt or anything. Not that that’s what she thinking about right now. Not when she fell so hard her face slammed into him. Her lips.

Feyre was kissing Rhysand. And even though she’d imagined this far too many times before, she could not enjoy it. One, because their faces being violently slammed together wasn’t exactly pleasurable. And two, because she was freaked out.

She jolted up into a sitting position. On Rhys. Oh lord, was Feyre really straddling Rhysand Night in the middle of the kitchen floor?

When they’d fallen, limbs had gone flying. It wasn’t just their lips that had accidentally touched. Rhys’ hands were under the bottom of Feyre’s skirt. On her bare ass. And she was literally sitting on his dick.

“Um, sorry,” Feyre squeaked. Her face was definitely bright red. And her ears. And her neck. Any yet, for some incomprehensible reason, she wasn’t scrambling off of him. She was just sitting on him, with her hands on his chest, paralyzed.

Rhys also seemed to be paralyzed, because his hands were not moving from her ass cheeks. For the first time since Feyre had met him, he actually looked flustered. He was also blushing, and there was a shocked expression on his features.

“You’re fine,” he croaked in reply.

Feyre brain finally started functioning. “Oh gods, I should-”

She stopped speaking and pulled her hands away from Rhys’ chest. He yanked his hands out of her skirt. Just when Feyre was about to slide off of him, however, she felt something. Underneath her.

Rhys was getting hard.

From the panicked look on his face, Feyre knew he realized what she had felt. “Shit, I didn’t mean-”

“You’re fine,” Feyre said, repeating his earlier words. Her voice was strangely calm, indifferent even to her own ears. “Do you want to have sex with me?”

The words popped out of her mouth before she could stop them, but Feyre felt no regret. Only lust coursed through her mind right now.

Rhys blinked. “What?”

“Well I have really wanted you to fuck me for a while, and this whole situation is turning me on, but since that could be nothing and I could end up doing something that makes you uncomfortable, I’m asking. Do you want to have sex with me?” The words were so matter-of-fact. This is it, Feyre realized. This is the breaking point. I’ve finally reached insanity.

That blood-heating smirk found its way back to Rhys’ face, and she knew exactly what his answer was. “How long exactly is a while, darling?”

Feyre placed her hands on Rhys’ chest once more. “Too fucking long.”

He put his hands on her hips, keeping Feyre steady as she started to grind against his erection, needing pressure on that one spot.

“You’re a piece of shit, Rhysand. You know that? You smirk at me and you walk around shirtless all the time like there isn’t a horny girl sharing your apartment and you bring home all those girls like you want me like hear. Like you want me to know what you can do to me. It drives me crazy.” Feyre punctuated this little speech with a relatively hard roll of her hips, making Rhys let out a small groan.

“Of course I was doing it for you,” he murmured. “I wanted you to know what I had to offer.”

“You’re such a dick,” Feyre replied, reaching for the buttons of her blouse, hurriedly undoing them.

Once Feyre slung her shirt into the ground, Rhys flipped them. It was so fast, Feyre had no chance to protest (not that she would have), and in a split second, Rhys had her pinned to the floor.

“Surely I’m not the only one here in the business of teasing the other?” Rhys breathed in her ear, his hands tracing patterns on her thighs. “You strut around in those little skirts even when you’re not going out. You think I’ve never had to resist the urge to slam you against the wall?”

Feyre sighed as Rhys started trailing his lips along her neck. “Hmm, maybe we should, oh, um, we’re still on the floor, Rhys.” She didn’t know if what she said was even comprehensible to him, it was so muddled.

Rhys frowned against her neck. “Where’s your sense of adventure, Archeron?”

Feyre frowned as well. “My definition of adventure happens to be different than yours, that’s all. I typically don’t enjoy having sex on a rug that neither of us have vacuumed for a really long time.”

Rhys let out an exaggerated sigh and stood, bringing Feyre with him. She wrapped her legs tightly around his torso, marveling in how easy that had been for him. Of course, she’d noticed how ripped he was. How many hours he spent at the gym. She always noticed.

Feyre slung her arms around his neck. Rhys pulled Feyre’s face back to him as he started walking toward the hall. His lips crushed into hers, and she started grinding against him once more as his tongue parted her lips. The man certainly knew how to multitask.

They reached a room - Feyre’s - and Rhys carefully set her down on the bed. He flipped the lamp on and surveyed the scene in front of him: Feyre in a miniskirt and a barely-there bra, sprawled across the sheets, with her hair fanning across her shoulders.

“Take your clothes off.”

As much as Feyre wanted to do as he said, as much as she wanted to obey, she wasn’t just backing down. Rhys was a pain in the ass and he needed a serious ego check.

“Don’t you want the pleasure?” She asked twirling a strand of hair in her fingers and sliding her tongue across her lips, wetting them.

Rhys frowned. “Take off your clothes.” He only repeated what he’d just said, but there was no room for argument.

Feyre’s breath caught, and she just couldn’t stop herself anymore. She unclasped the bra, then slid out of her skirt. Her panties came next. She tried to move slowly, wanting to tease him, but it was so hard to be patient. The whole process, Rhys just watched, tracing her curves with his eyes.

“Good girl,” he muttered once she finished, and Feyre felt a fire light inside of her. She pressed her thighs together, a pathetic attempt at quenching the ache.

Rhys noted the movement with a twitch of his lips. Then he got on his knees.

Feyre barely suppressed a gasp as Rhys grabbed her by the hips and pulled her to the edge of the bed. He pressed a gentle, teasing kiss against her thigh, and Feyre spread her legs as far as she could.

She was on her elbows, watching him lick a trail up her thigh, still not going where she needed, and Rhys was holding her gaze the entire time.

A smirk was the only warning she got before Rhys dipped his head into her center. Just when Feyre was thinking Rhys had given in, all she got was a light kiss to her clit, the most pleasurable and frustrating sensation she had ever experienced. It was enough to drive her insane.

“Rhys,” Feyre urged, “do something.”

“Do what? This?” Rhys asked, licking a stripe up her center.

Feyre moaned. “Yes,” she breathed.

“And how about this?” Rhys flicked her clit with his forefinger, making Feyre cry out.

“More,” was all she could gasp, fingers clenching around the sheets.

Rhys’ wicked mouth started moving, tasting her, eating her alive. His tongue slid inside of her and Feyre groaned loudly, falling back against the sheets. Her eyes closed and she cried out in ecstasy as a finger entered her, then another.

“Rhys, Rhys, Rhys, gods,” Feyre cried out.

He spoke up, his breath caressing her folds. “Do you like that, darling?”

“Please,” she murmured. “Please make me come.”

“You behave so well,” Rhys commented, rubbing her clit slowly. “I wonder who taught you how to use such good manners.”

Feyre whimpered. A nearly incomprehensible string of pleases kept falling from her mouth, along with curses and cries of his name.

Rhys started pumping his fingers hard, sucking on her clit. He curved his fingers just so and let his tongue dart out and taste her once more, and everything shattered.

Feyre screamed, clenching her thighs together around Rhys’ head. He didn’t seem to mind; he just kept licking and sucking and thrusting his fingers inside of her, working Feyre through her orgasm.

Once the room stopped shaking and Feyre could see clearly again, she noticed Rhys pulling his clothing off until he was bare before her. She regained enough movement to reach for his cock as he crawled on the bed, wanting to taste him like he had tasted her, but he gently swatted her hand away.

“There’s plenty of time for that later, darling,” Rhys purred, settling over her pinning her arms to the bed.

But Feyre wasn’t giving up. She hooked a leg around his waist and used her momentum to roll them over, so that she was on top.

Rhys grinned, surprised but pleased to let this play out. Feyre kissed his neck, enjoying the contented sigh that came from his mouth. She started moving her mouth up, kissing and licking as she went.

She reached his jawline and made her way to his mouth. Unable to resist, she nipped his lower lip. Rhys growled at her and tightened his grip on her hips, but he didn’t reprimand her further.

Feyre moaned as she felt his cock press against her folds and she scrambled off of him, reaching in her nightstand drawer to grab a condom. Turning back to Rhys, she expertly rolled the condom on his length while he tweaked her nipple, making her usually-steady fingers fumble.

Feyre climbed back on top and lifted her hips over Rhys’ cock. He steadied her with his hands on her waist, murmuring a “good girl” as she lowered herself. They both sighed in pleasure as Feyre slowly sunk down all the way, fully sitting on him now.

Rhys let out a groan as Feyre started to rock her hips, adjusting to his size. She rested her hands on his chest and started moving more, really riding him now.

“You look so hot bouncing on my cock,” Rhys praised, slamming his hips up into hers.

Feyre moaned loudly, digging her nails into his skin. She tried to move faster, harder, seeking another orgasm, desperate for release.

Rhys flipped them, not stopping the movements of his hips. He thrusted harder, fully in control now. Feyre was moaning nonstop, propably leaving small scratches all over his back. Rhys seemed to relish in the sensation, thrusting harder.

She moved one hand between their bodies, circling her own clit. Feyre moaned and pressed harder, craving release.

One more thrust from Rhys had Feyre tumbling off that cliff, groaning as she went. Her whole body shook, and Rhys kept going.

“You’re doing so good, baby, so good. I’m almost there.” Feyre’s orgasm was drawn out even further at the sound of Rhys’ commending tone, loving the sound of him taking to her.

Feyre felt Rhys’ cock twitch as he found his own release, sighing against her shoulder. He withdrew from Feyre’s entrance and sat back. She was barely conscious as Rhys took care of the condom and walked back over to her.

Rhys leaned down resting his lips against her ear. “I hope you sleep well, darling,” he whispered with that smug tone of his.

And then Feyre drifted off to sleep, hardly registering the sound of Rhys padding out of her room.

———

Tag List:

@aelin-bitch-queen

@story-scribbler

#feysand #acotar #i do bad things with you #my writing

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sock-ness-monster · 3 years

Text

So I was awake for actually 22 hours straight yesterday and when I finally went to sleep I had the weirdest dream but I think you guys will enjoy it

So it was Shane and Ryan from Buzzfeed Unsolved, but when they very first met and they were both interns

SO: Ryan was from a super rich family but nobody knew, and Shane was from a really rough area of Chicago which everyone had sorta figured out just based on weird things he'd do. (Only ate hot dogs, flinched at cars backfiring outside,always had a jacket even in summer, was fascinated by palm trees and would stare at them) And their desks were right across from each other so they had become good friends. After a while, Shane invites Ryan over to celebrate a video they had made that did really good. Shane fixed up his crappy little apartment all nice and made fancy hotdogs and was super excited because Ryan was going to be the first person to come over since he'd moved to LA. Then, ryan cancelled last minute. : ( I remember vividly Shane looking at the text on his phone while outlined against his window, and there were fireworks going on outside for some reason?

But Ryan felt bad so he was like 'Hey, my family's having a dinner party tomorrow night, you can come over and it'll be exactly the same!' So he agreed, but when he pulled up to the address he was given it was a HUGE MANSION. Like, White House huge mansion. And Shane is dressed, well, like Shane usually dresses but Ryan and everyone else are wearing super nice tuxedos and the women are wearing ball gowns and Shane's like 'I....misunderstood something. I'll go, I don't fit in here, everyone's judging me and I-" but Ryan's like no no it's okay you're my friend I won't let them make you feel that way!! So then they start eating the first course and Shane's struggling with which fork to use and Ryan's family is talking about rich people stuff. At one point they discuss all the deforestation they're responsible for?

Anyway, Shane leaves because he's uncomfortable and Ryan yells at his family for making his friend feel bad and kinda realizes his priviledge for the first time because he had assumed everyone at buzzfeed was super rich as well. So he goes after shane to apologize and they end up in a forest but before Ryan can fully catch up FREAKIN BIGFOOT COMES OUT AND STARTS BEATING UP SHANE. And Shane's yelling at Ryan to go away because he doesn't want him to see this but Ryan's frozen to the spot, so Shane has no choice.

He rips off his disguise (he was a wearing a disguise all along) and reveals himself to be a bigfoot as well and starts beating up the first one, whose mad at Shane for leaving the forest to live among the humans. Then Shane grabbed him by the nipples and threw him into a lake. Dream ends.

#so....do with that what you will #buzzfeed unsolved supernatural #buzzfeed unsolved #bun #shane madej #ryan bergara #au #buzzfeed unsolved au #bigfoot #buzzfeed #wearewatcher #watcher #the watcher #dream #dreams

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

57 sternclay nsfw? i can see stern complaining to a stranger that his ex complained about how weird his kinks were while dumping him

Here you go! 57: “we’re fighting over the last box of half-off valentine’s day chocolate and end up in a “who has it worse” battle.

For being in a mountain town in the slow season, the seasonal candy shelves of the Kepler Walgreens are bare. Were it 10 am on Valentines Day, Joseph would be in a panic. At 10 p.m, it feels like yet more proof this trip is utterly doomed.

But he didn’t become one of the top agents in the Department of Unexplained Phenomena by being unobservant. On the top shelf, pushed towards the back, is a bag of Reese's hearts and a bag of M&Ms. Thank you, years of training.

Being six feet tall helps too.

He’s so locked onto his target that he doesn’t notice the other person in the store until their hands smack into each other en route to the bags.

“Sorry, uh, lemme just get these and I’ll get out of your way.” A voice as deep and sweet as summer honey reaches his ears.

“I’m sorry, but I was going to buy these.” He starts pulling the bags towards him, only for the other guy to grab them. Joseph glares; the man trying to relieve him of his last solace looks like the kind of lumberjack you see in recordings titled things, “Log Pounders IV” or “Bear Hunting.”

“Look, buddy, I really need these so can you, like, find some other bags?”

“These are the last two. And I guarantee I need them more.” As long as he keeps a pleasant voice and gives no ground, this should go smoothly.

“Unless you got dumped this month, I don’t think you do.”

“I got dumped seven hours ago.” He says through an increasingly tight-lipped smile.

“At least your ex isn’t tagging you in a bunch of photos bragging about his new boyfriend.”

“He can’t, because he probably only just got back to his apartment in the rental car. The one I’m now stranded here without.”

“Pfft, just call an Uber or something.”

“It’ll cost several hundred dollars to get home!”

“You look like you can afford it.” Brown eyes flick from his hair down to his shoes, “some of us have to use half-price candy to soothe our wounds. You’re probably staying at the kind of fancy B&B where they have complimentary booze.”

“I would be, except their was a fuck-up with the reservation. Which my ex took as proof this was time to end things, and is the reason I’m dragging this all over town.” He kicks his ergonomically designed, rolling suitcase hard enough that it bumps into his adversary.

“Better he gave you some bullshit reason than the truth, which mine was all too happy to tell me. You can have these when someone you tried to make happy tells you he thinks you’re ‘too soft’ and that if only you’d manned up he woulda stayed, whatever the fuck that even means.”

Goddamnit, Joseph is not about to lose this argument--and his candy--on top of everything else.

“I’ll trade you that for being told you’re: too exacting, far more uncool than your job implies, too anxious, too invested in your work, that your whole personality is flawed and, just for extra fun, that your kinks are too weird and no one in their right mind would ever want to sleep with you if they knew them ahead of time.”

The other man’s hold on the bags loosens. Then it returns, stronger than before, as he grumbles, “Please, no one’s kinks are that weird.”

“You have no idea what mine are.”

“Then how about you give me a demonstration, huh?” Lumberjack snaps.

Joseph's common sense finally catches up with his thirst for comfort and, apparently, conflict.

“I, I’m sorry, did you just offer to fuck me in the middle of a fight over discount candy?”

“I....” the man lets go of the bags, chuckles, “yeah, I did. Fuck, I’m sorry, it’s been such a shitty day that my mouth decided it was gonna do whatever it took to stay in that fight.”

Joseph laughs a little, slumping against the shelf, “I guess it’s nice to know I’m not the only person in town whose Valentine’s Day didn’t go to plan.”

“No kidding. Though, uh, I didn’t get dumped this month. It was three months ago. He did tag me in all those photos today though.”

“That’s so rude.”

“Not as rude as leaving your boyfriend stranded in the mountains.”

B-grade pop hits fill the awkward silence between them.

“I, uh, this might be way outta line, but I got an idea; if you buy the candy, I can take us back to my place and bake something with it. That way we can both enjoy it, and you won’t be stuck wandering around in the cold.”

He runs a quick is-this-a-serial-killer scan of the man in front of him.

“Sure. But just so you know, I’m opening the Reeses in the car.”

-----------------------------------------------------

“Feeling better?” Barclay, his host, wipes stray cupcake crumbs from his lips.

“Much.” He polishes off his second coffee-cocoa cupcake with M&Ms in the batter, lifts his coffee cup, “this place is lucky to have you.”

Barclay blushes the same way he has every time Joseph compliments his cooking, home, or taste in books. They’ve spent the last ninety minutes in the kitchen of Barclay’s small, A-Frame cabin, one of eight laid out in a half circle behind Amnesty Lodge. The cook explained that the cabins were for staff or long term residents, and that while the Lodge sometimes had vacancies, this week had seen them swamped.

The rain alternates between pleasant pitter-pats and drops that could kill a small bird, so Joseph is incredibly grateful to Barclay for giving him a place to shelter. When he thanks him, the cook shrugs with a little smile, “you shouldn’t leave nice things out in the rain.”

As they’re cleaning up the dishes, Barclay passes him a plate and says, “You can stay here tonight. If, uh, if you want. The couch isn’t much, but it’s dry and I’ve got a bunch of spare blankets.”

“That’d be great, thank you. And, um, thank you for being so nice to me, given how we met.”

“Eh, no one who’s in a Walgreens after ten is in a good mood. And, uh, it’s nice to have someone to talk with. I’m kinda the quiet one of my friends, and work is mostly calling orders and stuff.” He pulls the coffee pot from the heat, “can I top you off?”

“Yes, please.” His caffeine tolerance is so high a few cups late at night doesn’t mess with his sleep. Barclay is sticking with tea, something scented like cardamon and comfort.

They move to the couch that’s clearly been re-covered a dozen times, Barclay only getting up to turn on some music; delta blues, if Joseph’s ear is right. It’s not until the clock strikes one thirty that Joseph notices they’re sitting so close that their knees bump whenever one of them turns to talk.

“Okay, I gotta ask” Barclay’s brown eyes shine sweet and playful, “what exactly was so weird about your kinks that your dickhead ex went out of his way to mention them?”

He thinks a moment, scanning his body and noticing he’s more relaxed than he’s been in weeks, including all the times he spent with his ex. Something about the faint scent of dish-soap on Barclays hands, the gentle smile that makes Joseph certain that--for all his bulk--if Joseph told him to roll over and show his belly, he’d do it in an instant, the way he doesn’t rolls his eyes or shy away when Joseph talks, all of that makes him calm. Which makes him bold.

“Wait right here.” He hops up, grabs his bag from the door and pulls it over to the rug by the couch. All he has to do to reveal his secret is lift his pajamas.

“Holy fuck.” Barclay leans forward, “you really came prepared.”

“It was supposed to be a romantic getaway. I...we’d never used any of this together, but I hoped we might this time. It’s, it’s not his fault, I know my tastes aren’t for everyone, and we had plenty in common in bed. But he went through this whole thing where he said we should share our deepest fantasies. Apparently wanting to be choked is fine, but wanting to fuck Mothman is not.”

“That’s what this one is.” Barclay picks up one of the two dildos, black with lots of swirling ridges.

“That’s actually my dragon one. Um.” he holds up the ovipositor toy, “this one is supposed to be mothman.”

Barclay squishes one of the silicone eggs, “that feels kinda nice. What else did you bring?”

His genuine interest is not helping Joseph keep his hopes under control.

“The other toy is the ‘bigfoot’ model. And this is, um, this is my newest one, I was so excited I pre-ordered it. It acts like a cock-sleeve, but this part here is supposed to mimic a, um, a knot.”

“Like the idea of getting knotted, babe?” The cook’s voice is a little deeper than when he last spoke, and rather than pulling away he’s inching into Joseph’s space.

“Yes. I, um, I’m getting the sense” he shifts so his hands are on Barclay’s knees, “that we might have something in common besides our taste in leftover candy.”

“I packed all this so carefully” he brushes their lips together, “it’d be a shame to let it sit unused.”

Barclay scoops him into a kiss, growling happily when Joseph instantly parts his lips. His beard is soft and tickly under Joseph’s palms, and his mind takes the thought of getting beard-burn on his thighs and runs so far with it that he almost misses what Barclay says next.

“In that case, you better decide if you want me to open your ass up so I can fuck you with a knot, or if you wanna do it yourself.”

“I prefer to do it myself.”

A second kiss, a bit gentler this time, “bedroom’s at the end of the hall. Get naked and wait for me there?”

“Roger that, big guy.”

When Barclay growls this time it’s rougher, jumping out of his chest and seeming to surprise him.

Joseph undresses as Barclay stops off in the bathroom, rifling through the medicine cabinet while Joseph folds his clothes. He’s down to his boxers when he remembers there is a conversation he needed to have before it hit this point.

“You trying to get me to rip those off with my teeth?” Barclay grins as he sets some condoms and lube on the bed and starts taking off his pants.

“I, um, there’s something you should be aware of. We don’t have the same, um, set-up.”

Barclay furrows his brow, gets his meaning, then nods, “no problem. If you’re okay with that part of you being involved I, uh, I just got a really, really good idea for what to do.”

“It’s not always the case, but tonight I definitely want it involved. I want you inside me as many ways as possible.”

“Fuck yeah.” Barclay tosses his shirt into the laundry, “get your ass open enough to take that knot.”

He slips the condom on, douses it with lube, and presses the first finger in, discovering that he's unable to stop complimenting Barclay for even five seconds while he finishes disrobing. The flush under his dark chest hair is unendingly charming, as is the little whine he makes at Joseph telling him he likes how big he is.

“I, I’m serious, ahhn, it’s rare to find someone taller than me and I really like it.”

“Feeds into the monster thing?” Barclay crawls beside him, laying down so he can kiss him as he works the second finger in.

“In a way.”

A deep, rumbly chuckle that has Joseph fucking himself hurriedly, “Don’t be coy, babe. You like the thought of something big and hairy getting a hold of you and not letting you go until you’re dripping cum.”

“Holy shit, yes” he gets the third finger in, sighing as Barclay nuzzles his neck.

“Well, I’m not bigfoot, but I’m betting I’ll do just fine.”

“More than fine.” Joseph kisses him, feels him smile in a way that melts his heart like cheap chocolate.

“Got some other theories about you, babe, but you gotta wait until you’re on my dick to hear ‘em.” Barclay sits up, stroking his cock in time with Joseph’s hand, “fucking-A, can’t believe your ex didn’t wanna stick around for this. You look like a fucking porn star; we oughta record you getting fucked in your suit and sell if for big bucks.”

He moans, pulling his fingers free, “Fuck me now. Please.”

“Fuck that’s hot.” Barclay works the sleeve down over his cock, sits up against the wall, “come sit in my lap, facing away.”

Joseph straddles him, gasps when the head of his cock presses in. He prepped well, but all the same he has to take his time wiggling his way down. Barclay caresses him, grunting and whimpering whenever he moves, breath prickling the hairs at the base of his neck. It’s heavenly.

When he hits the knot, Barclay rubs more lube on it, but it stays outside of him as he grinds on it. Between moans, the cook manages to say, “want me to start the next part?”

“Yes, please.”

Barclay loads the ovipositor with the three eggs, praises Joseph for being a good boy when he spreads his legs to accommodate the head of the toy.

“I, I thought you had more you were going to tell me?” He tilts his head awkwardly to kiss Barclay’s shoulder.

“Uh huh.” Barclay slowly works the toy in and out, doing his best to sync it to the rolls of his hips, “I think you’re the kind of guy who doesn’t just want one monster; you want ‘em all.”

“Variety is, ohgod, part of a healthy sex life.”

“I don’t mean one monster on one day and a different one on another. I think you want them all at once.”

“Oh yes, oh! Ohohoh” he kicks his legs as the first egg pushes in, “fuck, Barclay, please keep going.”

“Whatever you want, babe.” He nuzzles Joseph’s hair, “that’s how I came up with this plan; seeing all those different dicks made me think you’d, fuck, you’d like me to pretend there was more than just me fucking you.”

Joseph nods, clinging to Barclays arm and bearing down on the knot.

“Can just see it now; you got yourself lost in the woods out here, go looking for help only to find a whole bunch of monsters waiting for you. Spend the rest of the night pressed into the dirt and leaves while every cryptid from, fuck” he bucks his hips, “from here to Canada had their turn.”

“Shit, shit” the knot starts pushing in, “y-you’ve got my number, big guy.”

“Yeah?” Barclay squeezes the base of the toy as he talks, causing the remaining two eggs to push their way in, Joseph’s body clenching around them, “you want a night where all your good for is being fucked, where if you beg for a break you get a bigfoot fucking your throat and werewolves cumming on your chest instead of them all mobbing you at once?”

“Shit, yes, YESohfuck” the knot enters him as Barclay shoves his hips down, “ohmygod that’s good, fuck, I feel so full, you’re so smart, this was genius, fuck you know how to treat meAHannnfuck, shit.” He holds on to Barclays arm’s as the other man fucks him with abandon.

“Oh I know, babe. Know I was fucking right. You wanna be claimed, wanna be owned, wanna be bred by a whole fuckin pack-”

“Jesuschrist” it’s hard to breathe at the pace Barclay sets, his body aching to cum but not quite able to get there. He squeezes his eyes shut, rubbing frantically at his dick as Barclay loses himself in the fantasy.

“You’d be so cute, leaves in your hair and cum on your chin, taking it all and begging for more. Good thing you’re so needy, you could tear a pack apart with folks fighting over who gets to fuck you, fuck, Joseph, baby, you’re so fucking good, gonna be so fucking good to you, fuck, fuck” he shoves as deep as he can while he cums, and in the haze of pleasure Joseph swears claws prick the skin of his chest. Just the thought of that sends his own orgasm coursing through him, his body tensing and twisting on Barclay’s cock, making them both moan from sudden overstimulation.

“S-sorry” Barclay pants.

“Nothing to apologize for, just physiology, here, let me ow, ow, okay maybe I should have relaxed more first.” He’s free of both toys, but that was right on the edge of too painful. He waits for Barclay to take off the sleeve, then rolls the bigger man so his head is on his chest.

“Your ex didn’t know how good they had it.”

“Thanks, babe.”

He smiles, “I like that. No one ever calls me something that informal.”

“Call you it whenever you want. Babe.” Barclay kisses his arm, “you can, uh, stay in bed if you want. We don’t have a ton of time together so I’d, uh, well, I’d like to spend as much of it with you as I can.”

For the first time, Joseph wishes his vacation would last longer.

“Agreed, big guy.”

--------------------------------------------------

“You said you had my new assignment, sir?”

“Yes. Agent Stern, you will be going to the town of Kepler to investigate the events described in this file.” Agent Hayes passses him the folder.

“Understood, sir.”

Joseph manages to keep his smile to himself all the way to his desk.

#sternclay #agent stern/ barclay #taz amnesty #reader request #meet ugly

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captain-ross-poldark · 3 years

Text

Another interesting article from the Irish DM.

THE WOMAN WHO FINALLY TAMED POLDARK

By Maeve Quigley

Heartthrob Aidan Turner has a track record of dating co-stars and it seems like he’s finally found his leading lady as it’s revealed he and Caitlin Fitzgerald have tied the knot

THEY were the pictures that broke the hearts of thousands of fans — the dark-haired actor affectionately smooching his new wife on the romantic streets of Rome, as their wedding rings flashed in the warm Italian dusk. After three years of dating, Aidan Turner tied the knot with fellow thespian Caitlin Fitzgerald in a secret ceremony in the Italian capital last summer, although news of the nuptials has just broken.

The pair met on the set of adventure film The Man Who Killed Hitler And Then The Bigfoot and it seems — despite Turner’s previous protestations that he would never date another actress — they couldn’t help falling for each other.

Pictures taken on August 8 show the newlyweds days after tying the knot as they flashed their gold bands while enjoying a romantic al fresco dinner date at Pierluigi’s restaurant in Rome.

In the newly-released images, the loved-up pair seem unable to keep their hands off each other as they sip their drinks, holding on to one another as they gaze into each other’s eyes.

It is believed Fitzgerald also came to Ireland before the pandemic to meet Turner’s extended family — possibly ahead of their big day. Of course, she’s not the first woman with beauty and talent to be seen on the arm of the dashing Dubliner.

But at 37, the man whose shirtless scything in BBC drama Poldark had women everywhere a-quiver is now officially off the market.

Turner was born in Clondalkin, the son of Eileen, an accountant, and Pat, an electrician. He is the youngest of two boys; his brother works for the Revenue.

The family later moved to Walkinstown where growing up he was quite shy so his mum sent him to ballroom dancing classes as she felt it would help him no matter what career he chose. He became quite the champion and could possibly have been headed for an international career before he got bitten by the acting bug when he attended the Gaiety School of Acting, where he dated classmate India Whisker for a short time.

Even then, Turner’s dashing good looks were getting him noticed off stage.

To supplement his acting career, he got a job as a barman in famous Dublin nightclub Lillie’s Bordello, where he proved to be a big hit with the VIP guests

‘Women would come in just to stare at him,’ said former hostess now wellness guru and television presenter Andrea Hayes, who gave the acting student his position behind the bar. ‘I’m not joking.’

His first big acting break came when he landed the part of receptionist Ruairi MacGowan in RTE’s long-running medical drama The Clinic, taking the seat left vacant by another major success story, Chris O’Dowd, who also played a medical administrator on the show.

Around this time he was dating Charlene McKenna. The thenaspiring acting stars were together from 2007 to 2009 and shared a flat together in London before their relationship ended just weeks after McKenna had said in an interview how happy she was.

McKenna has recently got married in secret herself, to actor Adam Rothenburg, with whom she starred in Ripper Street, although she has said she still has a friendship with Turner.

‘He’s flying and I’m so proud of him,’ she said of Turner in a 2016 interview. ‘We still keep in touch and I knew he would do this well for himself. I always told him he would be a movie star.’

While they lived together, Turner landed his breakthrough role as tortured vampire Mitchell in the BBC Three hit Being Human.

Mitchell was torn between his blood lust and doing the right thing and was keen on leather trousers and coats, allowing Turner to smoulder on screen for the first but certainly not the last time.

He managed to gain a cult following from the role — as well as a new girlfriend in the form of his co-star Lenora Critchlow who played a ghost to Turner’s vampire.

When their relationship ended, Turner also chose to quit his role on the show.

But it was Being Human that got him his role in The Hobbit after director Peter Jackson saw him in the show and was struck by his elfin features. He never made it to the elves though, instead playing a dwarf.

And as his star ascended, he began dating another actress, this time Cork-born Sarah Greene. They had been friends for a few years after meeting on the set of Titus Andronicus, directed by Selina Cartmell at Dublin’s Project Arts Centre; but love didn’t blossom until much later.

‘I played Demetrius, her character wasn’t a named character but we met on that,’ Turner said in a magazine interview. ‘It was all very platonic and we never hooked up or anything, but that’s how we got to know each other. Then years later we just met again and it just sort of took off.’

Turner and Greene became the golden couple of the Irish drama scene, both with careers on the rise. They were together when he landed the role of Ross Poldark in the BBC revival of the Cornish drama that became a huge international success.

The fame that came with the role was difficult for both to handle as Turner is not a fan of being seen as a celebrity while Greene hated people taking photographs of her boyfriend while they went about their daily business.

Though then happy in his relationship with Greene, Turner admitted that he had been heartbroken in the past and it was something he was able to channel into his role as the brooding Ross Poldark, a man torn between two women.

‘I don’t know anyone on this planet who hasn’t had their heart broken,’ he told the Radio Times. ‘It’s happened to me. Love is love it’s the purest and rawest thing we have in life.’

As their careers progressed, the couple spent more time apart as Turner was in New Zealand with The Hobbit while Greene was working on projects like Vikings closer to home. But he insisted the distance wasn’t a problem.

‘You meet someone, you fall in love, then you can only see them over Skype or phone calls or texts and emails. And you have this whole other side to your relationship and it’s... it was fun,’ he said in a 2015 interview. He added: ‘We knew we really wanted to be together. And knew if we could do that, we could tackle a lot more. It was never: God, this is hard, bloody hell, we need to review this. This sucks. We never questioned it; it was great. So we had that from the beginning...’

But as the Poldark mania went into overdrive, so did the rumour mill and there were false reports of an engagement and even a secret wedding between himself and Greene. In actual fact the opposite was the case, with the relationship ending in 2015, five years after it started.

Turner then seemed to swear off dating those in the same business, despite his track record. In a press conference for the fourth series of Poldark, he said dating in acting circles meant you could never get away from work, admitting: ‘If you’re in my business and you find somebody who does exactly what you do and you’re living with them, then you’re in the business all the time.

‘You go home, talk about casting directors, you talk about the press, you talk about the next job you’re doing — it can become quite dull and taxing,’ he added.

So instead he was linked to a mystery law graduate, an advertising executive and then the artist Nettie Wakefield, who he dated for around a year before their hectic schedules drove them apart in what was described as an amicable split.

But obviously when he met the stunning blonde Irish-American, Caitlin Fitzgerald, 38, on a film set three years ago, Turner’s new rules went out the window, so bowled over was he by the beauty and talent of his co-star. By the time the film was premiered, the pair already looked smitten, posing on the red carpet together.

Fitzgerald appeared at a concert with Michael Sheen, with whom she starred in Masters of Sex but was seeing Turner at that time and like him, is an intensely private person.

Despite his fame and the stir his bare-chested scything caused, Turner has never been one to chase the celebrity lifestyle — perhaps because of those nights he spent observing celebrities while working behind the bar in Lillie’s.

‘If I allowed myself to let it change my life, it could,’ he has said in the past of his fame. ‘Where there’s celebrity, it’s easy to slip into that — being followed in nightclubs, or dating famous people or getting adverts. I’m just not interested in that stuff.

‘I want to do good work with good actors and filmmakers, read interesting scripts. I didn’t get into this business for celebrity. I did it for my love of film and stories and theatre.’

So although it has now been widely reported that he and Fitzgerald tied the knot in front of his parents Eileen and Pat, neither of them are likely to confirm their nuptials at any stage in the near future.

In fact, the only kissing Turner is likely to talk about is for his role in the film Leonardo, which explores the life and sexuality of Leonardo Da Vinci. In the film we will see Turner as the renaissance artist in a passionate clinch with another man as it explores Da Vinci’s sexuality and his rumoured affair with his apprentice Gian Giacomo Caprotti, better known by his nickname Salai. It is for his art that Turner intends to keep us all guessing as he’d rather we were interested in his roles than his romances.

‘It’s important to me that people don’t know too much about me because I’m trying to play characters,’ he has said in the past

‘Sometimes you see actors who are really good, but you have trouble separating that actor from the celebrity profile.

‘I don’t want to be one of those guys. It helps that people don’t know a lot about me, I guess.’

#aidan turner #leonardo

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floralguccistyles · 3 years

Photo

nine: aliens, bigfoot, and nerds, oh my!

“Have you been eating, sweetheart? You’ve lost at least ten pounds since the last time I’ve seen you.”

My father rolled his eyes from over my mother’s shoulder as she pulled me into a big hug. Every time I saw my mother, she mentioned how skinny I was getting even though I was sure I had gained about five pounds since the last time I’d seen her. It was usually an excuse to come into my flat and make us a giant dinner, which I would never complain about. Her arms squeezed my shoulders as she released me, pulling back so she could look at my face.

“Pretty as ever, sweetheart.”

“Eva, can I please hug our daughter hello now?”

I laughed as my mother made a big deal of moving out of the way so my father could hug me. His embrace was familiar, his arms the ones I ran to when the bullying in secondary school got too bad to handle on my own. He had wiped my tears away and said “you’re one of a kind, mija, and they’re jealous of that.”

“Was the drive okay?” I asked them, pulling away from my father after he planted a quick kiss on my hairline. Their suitcases (the ones they had owned when they came to England) were decorated with vibrant stickers from Cuba. They were worn now, scratched at the corners, but their color had miraculously remained.

“It was wonderful. It’s been so long since we’ve been to London, and now look at us! We’re here to celebrate our daughter’s book!”

Inviting them to the book release party had been a last minute decision, but I found myself happy that I had. Though I knew they were proud of me, I also knew that they didn’t really understand a lot of the fandom stuff I had discussed in several chapters. They would read it to support me, of that I was sure, but I was uncertain about if they’d actually enjoy it.

“You probably won’t understand a lot of it, Mum.”

“You don’t know that. Your father and I have been watching that Doctor show...what’s it called, Roberto?”

“I don’t know, Eva. I fall asleep when it’s on.”

“It’s called Doctor Who, Mum,” I snorted out, biting back a bigger laugh.

“Whatever it’s called, we’ve been watching it. And we were alive when Star Wars came out, you know. I was there for the Darth Vader reveal and everything. Mamá took me to the theater and got me an extra large popcorn.”

I liked hearing little stories like that. It was almost too easy to picture my mum, sitting there in a little theater in Cuba when the true identity of Darth Vader was revealed. My grandmother had probably grasped her chest with her hand and shouted “¡Dios mío!” at the top of her lungs. If I eventually travelled to Cuba, if the movie theater was still there, I decided I would visit it.

The three of us piled into the Uber I had called for us, which wasn’t hard because their suitcases were so small. On the way to my flat, my parents regaled stories about their drive to London and how she was upset my dad wouldn’t let her listen to Dua Lipa on the radio because “that Dua Lipa girl was very talented, Petra.” We made it back to my flat with only three arguments broken out between them.

“You guys are staying in my room and I’m camping out on the couch,” I informed them, helping my mum to carry her suitcase in. “Sorry it’s so cramped. It’s perfect for me, but unfortunately having guests is a little difficult.”

“We could have stayed in a hotel, baby,” My father commented.

“I’m not going to make my parents pay for a hotel room. I can sleep on the couch for one night and survive, Dad.” They had been to my flat before, but I still showed them where the extra towels and soap was in the bathroom. “The party’s at seven tonight, and dinner will be served. I’ve got to go a little earlier, but I’m just a text away if you need anything.”

“My baby,” my mum said, her eyes glistening, “we are so proud of you!”

I found myself enveloped in another tight hug, this time joined by my father. The lump in my throat grew when I thought of their praise. Too often, I had taken their support for granted. “I love you both.”

“We love you, mija.”

A sudden knock on my door had us pulling apart. “Were you expecting anyone, baby?” my mum asked, going to the front foyer and looking out the foggy windows. “It’s a boy, Roberto!”

“What?”

I moved around my frozen parents to answer the door, swinging it open and greeting Harry Styles’s smiling face with a blank look. I had no idea what Harry was doing here, but he really had very impeccable timing.

And by impeccable, I meant shit.

“Morning! I was thinking about grabbing something to eat at a little bistro around here and thought I’d come by and see what you were up to today. Wanna join?”

Speech wouldn’t come. I felt the stares of my parents behind me, still hidden from Harry’s view, and how they would squeal and gush when they found out I was on somewhat good terms with Harry Styles, something they’d been trying to get me to do for years. “Harry—”

“Harry?” My mum’s voice asked loudly from where she was standing. She marched up behind me and swung the door open a little wider so he could clearly see her. “Oh my goodness! Harry Styles! Petra, it’s Harry Styles!”

“I know who he is, Mum,” I whispered in an embarrassed voice.

“Last time I saw you, you were about four feet tall,” My mother cooed, stepping forward. Before Harry could react, she had him in a tight hug, wrapping her arms around his body. “Petra didn’t tell me you were friends again!”

I bit down the urge to argue that we were never friends, but my mother wouldn’t listen. She never had when it had come to my bullies at school. “Just give them a chance to change, Petra,” she had told me when I would bury my face in her shoulder and cry that I didn’t want to go to school.

“Hi, Mrs. Gallego. I didn’t know you guys were coming to town. Sorry for intruding on family day. I was just coming down to this part of town to grab some lunch and wanted to see if Petra could come. No worries, though. I don’t want to take away—”

“Nonsense!” My father cut in, reaching out his hand for Harry to shake. “Nice to see you again, Harry. Feel free to take Petra to lunch. We’re probably going to nap a little before her release party tonight. The drive was long.”

“Release party?” Harry asked, glancing back and forth between my parents and me.

I awkwardly scratched the side of my head. “My, er, book is being released tonight.”

“What? Petra, that’s amazing!” His smile seemed genuine enough, but all I wanted was to shut the door and rewind the last five minutes. I never would have answered the door in front of my parents if I had known it was going to be Harry on the other side. “If you, um, want to go...it can be a celebratory lunch. And obviously you all are invited, Mr. and Mrs. Gallego.”

“Oh, Harry, we’d love to come, wouldn’t we, Petra?”

My eyes moved between Harry’s cautiously hopeful face and my parents, who were already grabbing my mum’s purse and getting ready to leave. In their eyes, I had already agreed. “Sure,” I said uncomfortably. “That’s fine. Let me just call an Uber for us and we’ll follow behind you.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Petra. We can call an Uber and you can go with Harry.”

There was no arguing with Eva Gallego when she set her mind to something, so I just nodded. “Okay. Er...I guess that settles that.”

We awkwardly stood around in my foyer until my mum cleared her throat. “Petra, darling, aren’t you going to invite Harry in while we wait for our ride?”

“Right. Come on in, Harry.”

His gaze locked on mine, expression questioning. I knew he felt the tension that was creeping up inside me with having him in the same room as my parents, but I didn’t want to get into it. Not when I knew it would ruin my night. The morning had already started off with self-destructive behavior as I looked back at some of the tweets about my day out with Harry from February. I had never been as aware of my appearance as I was in that moment, scrolling through absolute strangers saying the worst things. I had an extra appointment with Doctor Thorne this week to make up for it.

“How long have you and Petra been hanging out again?” My mum asked as we all sat in my living room.

“A couple of months. She contacted me in January about being on the show. It was an amazing experience.”

“I just love listening to Petra’s podcast,” my father said happily, reaching over and patting my knee. “I have no clue what she’s talking about half the time, but she sounds damn smart saying it.”

“She’s incredibly smart,” Harry agreed, and I ignored the urge to bang my head on the coffee table. I didn’t want him agreeing with my parents about my intelligence. We weren’t really that good of friends, if I even considered us friends yet. I had admitted to myself that Harry had definitely changed for the better, but that didn’t mean the past hurt went away.

“I almost forgot, mija! Your grandma sent you Materva. She said you wrote her an email about it.”

Normally, I would be jumping for joy. The first and only time my grandmother had visited from Cuba, she had brought Materva with her and it had become my favorite drink. With Harry here, however, I felt uncomfortable and self-conscious. I squirmed a little in my seat.

“That was nice of her. I’ll email her and tell her thank you. Want me to put it in the fridge?”

My father went off to my room to grab the Materva and Harry raised a quizzical eyebrow. “What is Moterva?”

“Materva,” my mum corrected with a smile. “It’s a soda.”

“And it’s delicious. Remind Petra to let you try some later,” my father said, returning with a set of six cans. “She sent us more, but we’re selfish and kept the rest of it at home for us.”

He stocked them in my fridge and pulled out his phone when he heard the small chime. “Our Uber is here. We’ll see you two at the restaurant.”

I made sure they made it into their car okay before I hesitantly pulled open the door of Harry’s. We both got ourselves situated, clicking our seatbelts into place.

He didn’t start the car.

“I didn’t know your parents would be here,” he said, offering me an apologetic smile. “I could tell it...it made you uncomfortable.”

“I’m just not used to this.” I gestured back and forth between us with my hand. “And my parents...they mean well, but when I was in secondary school and coming home to them crying, they told me to try and make friends with you guys. They didn’t really understand how hard that would have been. They think I should let bygones be bygones and I want to...but I don’t know if I can just yet.”

“I completely understand.” He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “Can I ask you something a little personal?”

“I don’t know if I’ll answer.” Honesty seemed to be the best approach with Harry.

“Why do you seem so embarrassed when your Cuban heritage is mentioned around me? When your dad brought out the soda, it looks like you were going to stab yourself with a fork.”

Go back to where you came from, Gallego. Nathan Penrose’s voice filtered through my thoughts. To them, I wasn’t English enough for England. But it was almost worse to feel that I wasn’t Cuban enough for Cuba.

“It’s about what that prick Nathan said when we were younger, right?” he asked softly, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel remembering it. “I so wish I would have punched him in the face.”

“It’s not just Nathan. That’s a big part of it, but it’s not just you I feel uncomfortable talking about it with.”

“Okay. You don’t have to talk about it, but...just know you can, if you ever want to. I’m serious about trying to be friends, Petra.”

The rest of the car ride was spent in silence, with some pop song playing lowly over the speakers. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, per se, but it made me wriggle around in my seat and wish I was sitting at the restaurant already. I wasn’t used to silences with Harry not trying to fill the space with his random thoughts. I appreciated that he was letting me just sit and absorb the moments, but it was also unnerving.

We pulled up to the little bistro right after my parents, who had already decided to get a table for us. Harry walked around to the other side of his car and opened the door for me, holding out his hand to help me out. My parents waved us over from their table outside, pulling out our chairs. I was seated between Harry and my mum, across from my father. It meant that I caught the sly looks they gave me whenever Harry was engrossed with his menu.

“What’s good here, Harry?” My mum asked after a couple moments of looking.

“I like their vegan buffalo wings and macaroni.”

“You’re vegan?” I asked in surprise, raising a brow at him.

“No, but I eat plant based meat when I can. And most places make their vegan wings with cauliflower, which hurts my stomach. This place makes them with mushrooms.”

“Petra loves mushrooms. You should try them, sweetheart.”

I set my menu down without really looking at it. “I’m getting a bagel and their cucumber and edamame salad.” Since both of my parents loved cucumbers, I knew I would be sharing at least a few bites with them. It was normal for us to sample each other’s meals. “What are you getting, Mum?”

“Maybe the chicken breast and mashed potato lunch special. Your father, predictable as ever, is getting a burger.”

My dad shrugged. “Don’t fix what isn’t broken.”

The waitress eyed Harry a little longer than necessary when she came to take our orders, but eventually left. I could tell he would be getting asked to take a picture before he left, despite how unprofessional that was. Then I thought about if it had been Hayden Christensen if I had been the waitress and understood what the fuss was about.

“So, Harry,” my mum said after a long sip of her lemonade, which I knew meant she was going to ask a lot of questions, “what have you been doing now that you’re solo? I ran into your Mum when she was visiting home for a couple of weeks and she showed me one of your music videos. You’re very talented!”

I’d never seen Harry Styles blush, but I noticed a faint twinge of pink on his cheeks. “Thank you, Mrs. Gallego. I’m writing some more music right now, but I’m not sure when the next album will be out.”

“We just love listening to your first album. We listen to your group stuff too,” Mum commented, tapping her nails on her wrist. “Petra has a wonderful singing voice, did you know?”

Before Harry could question the statement, my father and I both snorted. “No, she doesn’t, Eva. No offense, mija.”

“None taken. I sound like a dying animal. Mum, I hate to tell you this, but the last time I sang, you were very intoxicated and would have thought our next door neighbor’s cat was Shakira.”

“Petra’s good at other things, though. She’s awesome on Alien Crossing. And I’m sure her book is going to be fantastic,” Harry supplied helpfully.

“Has she invited you to the party tonight? I know her other friends are coming. Jeremiah, Veronica, and Melody?”

I shifted in my seat. Harry looked pained, like he didn’t want to say anything that would hurt my mum’s feelings. I hadn’t invited him to the book release party because this book was mine, something untainted by the memories of secondary school. Talking about my nerd stuff on AC was one thing, but publishing them on paper was another. “Mum…” I trailed off.

“He could come with us! Are you going to buy a copy of the book, Harry?”

“Mum, he’s not going to buy—”

“Yeah, actually. I preordered it on my phone. And I was going to buy a hard copy, as well.”

Harry’s words had my mouth closing in surprise. I blinked over at him, at his secretive little smile when he raised his soda up to his lips and took a sip. “You preordered it?” I whispered, my throat thick with some emotion I couldn’t identify. “You’re not gonna understand it all.”

“Well, I’ll understand the Lord of the Rings bits now. And anything unfamiliar I come across, I’ll just make a note to watch or read it.”

This action felt more significant than anything that had happened in our hesitant friendship thus far. Even though he had introduced me to John Williams and had brought me a plant, this was the thing that felt essential. I felt like the Grinch in that moment, my heart growing a size bigger and allowing room for hesitant optimism to sink in. Maybe Harry Styles and I actually could be friends.

Which was why when my mum suggested him coming another time, I shyly looked over at him and said, “Of course you can come if you’d like. I’ll text you the details.”

My publisher had rented out the Aldgate Library at my college for the release.

It felt weird stepping back into the library, stumbling a little in my black heels when I accidentally grazed a rock on the sidewalk right outside. The last time I had been here, I had my hair in a messy ponytail and was in tears at midnight trying to study for my last finals of my university career. Now, I was publishing a book. It felt surreal.

I smoothed down the skirt of my red dress, trying my best not to chew on my lip. Veronica had meticulously spread some kind of red lip stain on it that was supposed to be long lasting, but I didn’t trust it’s longevity against my teeth nervously biting at it. Plus, I knew pictures would be taken tonight and the last thing I needed was to have lipstick on my teeth.

“Petra!” My publisher said, walking out of Aldgate in a tailored suit. She was also wearing a little badge that had “Aimee Metcalfe, Dorrance Publishing” printed right underneath a fantastic photo of her. I found myself jealous. My ID photos never came out that great. “What’re you doing standing outside? Come in, you numpty!”

I gave Aimee a quick salute and followed her inside, trying to keep up with her. As familiar as she was walking in heels, it was a new skill set to me entirely. She led me through the front of Aldgate and back into one of the large common area study rooms, which had been transformed for the launch. There was a giant banner hung up on the far left side, with #Aliens #Bigfoot #Nerds printed over it in sparkling letters. In front of the banner was a table decorated with cupcakes and cake pops, each the same color blue as my book cover, which featured a picture of myself that I hated but Aimee had insisted the readers would love. Jeremiah and Zach were shoving their faces with one of the cake pops, while Veronica looked on in disgust. Bailey was chatting with Melody by the photo booth that Aimee had suggested, which when printed, would frame the pictures in the same hashtags the banner provided.

My parents were crying in the corner of the room.

I went to them first, holding out my arms. My mum immediately let out a wail, pulling me into an embrace. “This is supposed to be a happy day, Mum.”

“Oh, I’m so happy for you, sweetheart. You have worked so hard. And you look beautiful.” She pulled back to examine my dress and makeup, pressing her hand to her mouth when she did. “Such a beautiful young woman, inside and out. Oh, how did we get so lucky, Roberto?”

My dad smiled at me. “Proud doesn’t even cover it, mija. Your mum has demanded she be first in the book signing line.”

“Oh, I did not, Roberto!”

“Petra,” Aimee said, interrupting our conversation. She introduced herself to my parents and then led me over to the podium. “You’re going to do the reading, and then Terri and I put together a fun little trivia game about some of the fandoms in the book. Whoever wins that will get a free signed copy. Afterwards, you’re on book signing duty. We’ve got about twelve hundred Sharpies lined up for you. Questions?”

My head was spinning with all the information, but I found myself growing excited. This was something I had put blood, sweat, and tears into. And I was finally getting to share it with the people who meant the most to me. “None so far. I’ll flag you down if any come up.”

“Good. Oh,” she said, reaching into her bag, “keep this close. This is your best friend when you’re up there reading and when you’re signing books.”

She handed me a water bottle with room temperature water, which was apparently better for the vocal cords. Then she was pushing me towards the podium and I hid the water bottle on the hidden shelf on my side. My book was sitting there, my own face staring back at me.

When I looked into the sea of people, I saw my friends giving me encouraging looks and my parents crying happily, my mother now with a tissue from the dessert bar that she pressed underneath her eyes every five seconds. The rest of the people in the room were people who were avid listeners of AC, the ones who sent in messages for me to read. I noticed Daisy Callahan sitting at one of the tables, shooting looks over to Jeremiah and smiling like a smitten school girl. I made a mental note to ask Jeremiah if they were officially together after the reading.

And then, there was Harry Styles.

It looked like he had just come in, dressed in a nice suit in a dark red color. I was so used to seeing him in bright neons when he was dressed up that the muted burgundy almost faded into the background. However, he was still Harry Styles and it was hard for Harry to do anything but stand out. He was fidgeting with his suit jacket, messing around with the collar of it before he looked up and caught my eye.

I wondered what he saw, looking at me standing up on the podium. I knew what my friends and family saw; they saw me finally getting one of my big wishes to come true. But what did Harry Styles, who already got his dream, see?

I didn’t have time to think about it, because Aimee was gesturing for me to start the reading. She was helping usher people to their seats, and I felt the weight of more than just Harry’s eyes on me.

“Good evening everyone,” I said into the small microphone attached in front of me. “Thank you all for coming. This is the culmination of blood, sweat, tears, and other bodily substances I won’t mention. I can’t wait to share it with you. This reading comes from chapter seven, in which I discuss why Game of Thrones actually became so popular and how I think the last season is going to go, amongst other things.”

Jeremiah let out an embarrassing whooping sound and I rolled my eyes.

Then, I read.

If I had expected to be embarrassed standing there in front of a crowd, reading the words I had written, I was wrong. Instead of feeling down, like I had so many times before when I discussed the things I loved, I felt powerful. Because yeah, Nathan Penrose could be a racist asshole all he wanted, and his friends could drop all my books in the puddle. But I had done it. I had written my book, I had a kickass podcast that introduced me to my best friends, and I was filled with an uncharacteristic pride.

So I went along with it. It’s what Doctor Thorne would have wanted. But more importantly, it was what I wanted.

Aimee had been a lifesaver with the water, as I found myself finishing up my excerpt and drinking nearly all of it during the applause. “Thank you,” I said after I had capped the bottle and set it back where I had it hidden. “Thank you to Aimee Metcalfe, my knight in shining armor through this process. Thank you to Terri Patterson, who spent night and day editing. Thank you to everyone at Dorrance Publishing who put up with trying to get copyright issues taken care of because I wrote about some of the biggest money shark companies in here,” I paused for the light laughter that trickled through the room. “But most importantly, thank you to my friends and family and everyone who supported me through this. It means the world. I hope you enjoy the rest of the book.”

There was a small table with stacks and stacks of my book. I didn’t think I’d ever seen that many pictures of me in one place before, including my parents’ house. Aimee started up the trivia game, and I heard the first question asked about what the aliens that destroyed New York in the first Avengers movie was called while I took my seat at the table.

“The book is awesome.” I heard from my left. I turned, seeing Harry standing beside the table, leaning against a pillar. “I could tell you love it when you were reading.”

“It’s a little overwhelming to see it all finished,” I said, awkwardly gesturing to the pile of books in front of me.

“Would you ever want to write fiction?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure. For now, no. I might change my mind later.” He nodded, fixing his suit jacket again like he had been earlier. “I didn’t expect you to come,” I said after a few moments.

His eyes crinkled and his head tilted to the side, like he was confused. “Why? You invited me and this is important to you. I wouldn’t miss it.”

“It wasn’t hard...with the paps or anything?”

His jaw set and told me everything I needed to know. “I’ve got someone on security here tonight, just in case. I’m not gonna let anything ruin your big night, including paps. There was someone who recognized my car, but I don’t think anyone else is coming.” He unclenched his jaw and looked down at me. A softer look took over his face. “You look gorgeous. That color reminds me of the dress you wore to prom.”

I blinked. “You didn’t talk to me at prom.”

In fact, I had spent most of prom standing in the corner, nursing the lemonade I had gotten myself. Nathan Penrose had spiked it, but not before I had gotten myself a cup. I had saved up all my money for the pretty red spaghetti strap dress, but looking back it was a useless purchase. I didn’t have fun and was home drinking tea and watching Legally Blonde by midnight.

Harry gave me a small smile. “No, but I saw you. I remembered thinking you looked so beautiful and how I was an idiot for how I’d treated you.”

“You did not,” I argued, rolling my eyes at his statement. “You were thinking of your audition and what song you were going to sing. I wasn’t even a blip on your radar.”

He shrugged, bringing his own water up to his lips. “Think what you think. Doesn’t change the fact you looked gorgeous— then and now.”

I fiddled with one of the books in front of me. I didn’t know how to take his compliment. It was something I’d always been bad at, but especially when it came to Harry. Part of me wanted so badly to believe he was telling the truth; he had seen me at prom and thought I looked pretty and was looking at me now and seeing the same thing. The other part of me was hardened and cold, telling myself not to fall for it.

In the end I just decided to ignore his comment. If I didn’t acknowledge it, then I didn’t have to dissect my feelings on it.

“I’ve got to take off. I’m sorry I can’t stay long. I’m flying out to Los Angeles tonight for some meetings. But I wanted to be here.” He held up one of my books and set it in front of me. “Last time I asked, you said you wouldn’t sign it.”

“Wipe that cheeky grin off your face. Of course I’ll sign it.” He slipped a fifty pound note onto the table (more than double what he actually had to pay for the book) and opened up the title page.

The blank page stared at me. There were so many things I could write. Aimee advised me just to sign my name, but that felt too impersonal for Harry. Uncapping the pen, I held down the page with my other hand to keep it steady.

Live long and prosper, my young padawan.

Petra Gallego

He grinned when I handed it back to him. “I’m reading this on my flight to LA.”

“Might put you to sleep.”

“I don’t think it could,” he argued, tucking it under his arm. “Think I could...um...text you while I’m there?”

“I can’t control what you do or don’t do, Harry.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to give you the choice.”

The choice to talk to him. It was something I didn’t have in secondary school, but I realized a small part of me acknowledged that it was something I didn’t have now, either. There was something in me that wanted to see where this friendship with Harry went and if we could make it work.

“Yeah, Harry. You can text me when you’re in LA.”

Which was how I woke up the next morning, with a message reading: Made it to LA. Didn’t stop reading once. And despite what you may think, I didn’t fall asleep either.

A/N: Here is the next installment of AC! I hope you guys liked reading as much as I loved writing. I’m just so happy for Petra!

#ac #1dff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles ou

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minettestan · 3 years

Note

Do you have a tag for games you recommend? I'm always looking for new games and my experience with point and click or 90s computer games is sorely lacking.

💕My favorite question💕 I took one of my old posts and updated it, so here!

💕 Personal Favorite

💀 Scary Content

👧 Female Protagonist

✨ Important to the genre’s history

📚 Tricky for new players, look up controls or a walkthrough to get started

❕ Difficult

👿 Potential insensitive content

The Colonel’s Bequest (1989) $5.99 💕✨👧💀❕📚

“It is the year 1925, and the roaring '20s are well underway. As Laura Bow, young college student, you've been invited to visit the Colonel's isolated estate. Watch as the Colonel announces his intention to bequeath his millions to all present!”

The classic Sierra murder mystery game, developed by the mother of the genre Roberta Williams. Laura Bow is a sorely overlooked female protagonist. The game works by navigating Laura and typing in commands, kinda of tricky at first. Tons of game overs are a hallmark of a Sierra adventure game so save often! If you play the GOG.com version you get the benefit of autosaves. This game runs a timer, the events of the night will unfold with or without you so stay on your toes and keep moving! The game can be found for free here, but imo the $5.99 is worth it for the easy of access.

The Dagger of Amon-Ra (1992) $5.99 👧✨❕📚👿💀

“Laura Bow, intrepid heroine of The Colonel's Bequest, is back! This time she's trapped in a huge, imposing museum in the dead of night, surrounded by socialites, miscreants, thieves...and a cold, relentless murderer.“

Roberta Williams is back! Iconic game, iconic heroine. It’s still a Sierra game so like TCB there are tons of (iconic) game overs, so save often. Solving puzzles in this one gives me a great serotonin rush. Unfortunately, this game has some racism issues, particularly with the characters Lo Fat and Ramses. While an important game in the genre take it with a huge grain of salt and maybe turn of the (kind of awful) voice acting and enable text-only mode and you’ll avoid some awful accents.

Sam & Max: Hit the Road (1993) $5.99 💕✨

“Sam (a canine shamus) and Max (a hyperkinetic rabbity thing) are hot on the trail of a runaway carnival bigfoot across America’s quirky underbelly in this deranged animated adventure!“

Sam & Max are truly my favorite characters in all of fiction. I have the box art to this game as my phone case. I have Sam & Max action figures, a plush Max on my bed, a print edition of Sam & Max Freeland Police Special #1 framed on my wall. From comics, to games, to cartoons I love these guys. Sam & Max: Hit the Road is a classic of the Lucasarts adventure games. That being said, it’s the least user-friendly of the Sam & Max adventure games and the slowest. I still love it to bits and it’s important to the genre’s history imo.

Gabriel Knight: Sins of the Fathers (1993) $5.99 💕💀👿

“The adventure of Gabriel Knight starts with gathering materials for his new book, and ends up becoming a fight for his very soul. He must now face countless dangers in New Orleans, Africa and Germany, each bringing him ever closer to unraveling the mystery behind suspicious voodoo murders. Haunted by nightmares, he won't give up until he reveals the truth. “

Another Sierra game directed by a woman, Jane Jenson. Gabriel Knight, voiced by Tim Curry, is one of my favorite adventure game protagonists of all time. This game is scary and gory so enter at your own risk! I love the gameplay in this one, I love the narrator, I love the puzzles. But it seems Sierra games have some problems with the representation of minorities. The game is set in New Orleans and focuses on a voodoo cult. Which means consequently the game's major antagonists are all black. Unlike the Dagger of Amon Ra, Sins of the Fathers actually employed black actors to play black characters. There’s a lot to be said about the ways in which white media demonizes voodoo and those who practice it. If you play this one, remain critical. And for the love of god, don’t play the 20th anniversary version.

Day of the Tentacle: Remastered (1993/2016) $14.99 ✨👧❕

“Originally released by LucasArts in 1993 as a sequel to Ron Gilbert’s ground breaking Maniac Mansion, Day of the Tentacle is a mind-bending, time travel, cartoon puzzle adventure game in which three unlikely friends work together to prevent an evil mutated purple tentacle from taking over the world!“

Another classic LucasArts game! This was the first game co-headed by Tim Schaffer who would go on to make the outstanding Grim Fandango! This one is exceedingly wacky and the remastered version has made it more user-friendly than ever.

Toonstruck (1996) $9.99 💕

“Drew Blanc is a cartoon animator and the original creator of the Fluffy Fluffy Bun Bun Show.. Drew's boss, Sam Schmaltz, sets him the task of designing more bunnies to co-star in the Fluffy Fluffy Bun Bun Show by the next morning. However, the depressed animator soon nods off, suffering from acute artist's block. He wakes early the next morning to inexplicably find his television switched on, announcing the Fluffy Fluffy Bun Bun Show. Suddenly, Drew is mysteriously drawn into the television screen and transported to an idyllic two-dimensional cartoon world populated by his own creations, among many other cartoon characters.“

If you’re a fan of Who Framed Roger Rabbit? you’ll love this. Christopher Lloyd is Drew Blanc (ha) trying to save a cartoon world through inventory item puzzles. Truly wacky, zany, and ani-mainy. I played Toontown as a kid so I’m predisposed to like this one. This is also the only game with Full Motion Video I’m putting on the list because FMV games can be an acquired taste.

Grim Fandango (1996/2015) $14.99 💕✨

“Something's rotten in the land of the dead, and you're being played for a sucker. Meet Manny Calavera, travel agent at the Department of Death. He sells luxury packages to souls on their four-year journey to eternal rest. But there's trouble in paradise. Help Manny untangle himself from a conspiracy that threatens his very salvation.“

Yesssssssss! I LOVE Grim Fandango! The iconic game directed by Tim Schaffer has received the best remaster I’ve seen a point n’ click receive. I cannot recommend Grim Fandango enough! Stick with it through the forest section, trust me.

The Last Express (1997) $5.99 ❕ 📚

“Paris, 1914. The world is on the brink of war and this train could push it over the edge. You are Robert Cath, a young American urgently summoned by your old friend Tyler Whitney to join him aboard the Paris-Constantinople express, departing from the Gare de l'Est on July 24th. Arriving late, you discover something has gone terribly wrong. Now you must untangle a complex web of political intrigue, suspense, romance, and betrayal. Every move you make could bring you closer to the truth or your own demise. Bon voyage! “

Ooooh I love a murder on a train! This game features rotoscope animation, which I love. Like The Colonel’s Bequest this game runs in real time, meaning the events of the game will unfold with or without you, depending on where you are at what time you’ll receive different information or see/miss different events. Very replayable with several different outcomes.

Sam & Max Save the World (Remastered) $19.99 💕

“ Sam is a six-foot canine detective with a love of justice. Max is a hyperkinetic rabbity-thing with a taste for mayhem. Together, they're the Freelance Police. And they're about to save the world.”

Sam & Max Save the World, originally released in episodes from 2006-2008 has been remastered and looks AMAZING! After LucasArts was shut down their game devs formed Tell Tale Games and produced three seasons of Sam & Max sequel games, all of which are great. But TellTale was shut down (and screwed over their employees) in 2018. Since then some of their devs have formed Skunkape Games and are currently remastering all of Tell Tale’s Sam & Max series (I’m thrilled). They’ve also adjusted some aspects of the game to make the game more inclusive and less **offensive. So imo it’s worth it to wait for the release of the other seasons to experience Sam & Max in pristine condition. Save the World is the only season out now, but you can get the non-remastered versions of Beyond Time and Space, and In The Devil’s Playhouse, here and here.

**I should note the “offensive” material in the original is not as egregious as say, The Dagger of Amon-Ra, but it’s just a nice change to see especially in a game I hold dear.

Emerald City Confidential (2009) $9.99 👧

“Explore the underbelly of Oz as Emerald City's most cunning detective! As Petra, you'll be lured deep into mysteries involving new foes and familiar faces; Scarecrow, Lion, and Toto included! This is Oz as you've never seen it before! Solve the mystery and unravel a conspiracy of magic and intrigue! Follow a case through five chapters full of puzzles, witnesses, suspects, and allies in this twist on a timeless classic! “

We’re moving out of the 1990s now. Emerald City Confidential is the Wizard of Oz meets film noir. I played this as 13 year old and have revisited it as an adult and I still eat it up. Wadjet Eye makes consistently good adventure games so check this one out!

The Blackwell Series (2006) $14.99 💕👧

“Meet Rosangela Blackwell, an embittered writer who just found out that she is a medium and that it’s her mission, whether she likes it or not, to assist tormented spirits and investigate other supernatural goings-on. She is assisted by the sardonic Joey Mallone, a ghost from the 1930s.”

Another Wadjet Eye game! I’ve seen these games recommended amoungst the Clue Crew before and I’ll just throw my own endorsement on the pile. Yeah I’m in love with Joey Mallone. What about it?

The Charnel House Trilogy (2015) $5.99 👧💀

“Witness The Charnel House Trilogy, the chronicle of one fateful night aboard a train bound for Augur Peak. Three thrilling, horrifying adventure games in one, from the depths of the Sepulchre.”

Plays like Blackwell, has a Blackwell reference at the beginning, okay you got me. This is a good, if kinda short, game. It’s very creepy, involves murder and has some gore/violence so watch out! I’m still waiting on the sequel Owl Cave!

Thimbleweed Park (2017) $19.99 👧

“A haunted hotel, an abandoned circus, a burnt-out pillow factory, a dead body pixelating under the bridge, toilets that run on vacuum tubes... you’ve never visited a place like this before.“

Made by Ron Gilbert and Gary Winnick the creators of the classic games Maniac Mansion and Monkey Island Thimbleweed Park is a love letter to the classics of the point and click adventure genre. Features 5 different playable characters, ala Maniac Mansion, who and how many you play is up to you! This one also has stand alone DLCs!

Unavowed (2018) $14.99 👧

“ A demon possessed you one year ago. Since that day, you unwillingly tore a trail of bloodshed through New York City. Your salvation comes in the form of the Unavowed – an ancient society dedicated to stopping evil.”

Okay I haven’t actually played this one, but I want to. Its a Wadjet Eye so you know it’s good. From the reviews I’ve seen this is the Blackwell Series meets Dragon Age. A point and click that incorporates RPG elements, I love that.

I also have a love of the more, strange, and unusual adventure games that I can't necessarily recommend with good conscience. So if you want bizarre 90s and early 2000s games of dubious quality hit me up.

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i-used-to-wear-the-fedora · 4 years

Text

Urban Legends Ranked

Killer in the Backseat: 1/10 Bad. Not well thought out. Like dude, if you're going to attack the lady driving at least wait until she's parked. Otherwise you're going to die too idiot. And the fact he's sat up enough times for the guy behind them to notice? You've had to time to think this out. And yet you still think this is a good idea? Stupid.

Killer Underneath the Car: 2/10, still kind of stupid. Like this guy is just??? Waiting under a random car??? What if their door is broken and they have to crawl through the side door? What if they're wearing think shoes when you try to slash their ankles? Unless you've been stalking them for days (which you probably haven't) this could just end with you getting run over. Or waiting for like hours with no one coming. Also do not like.

Aren't You Glad You Didn't Turn on the Lights: 8/10 Now this. This is a classic. You murder a college girl and her roommate just drunkenly stumbles in without turning on the lights? Talk about dumb luck. Plus you leave a message for the roommate to scare the shit out of her. This is how you do it. Minus two points if it's the version where he spells it out with the blood of her cat. Not cool.

Slenderman/Kuchisake Onna: 6/10, these two have a similar type. Creepy otherworldly creature/ghost that kills kids. And they're pretty cool but like they're also overexposed as all hell and have become less scary as a result. Plus one point for Kuchisake Onna for having a scarier design.

Hookman: 3/10. A classic that everyone hears at least once but it's not really that scary as much as it is funny when you think about it. Like you spent all this time trying to spook horny ass teens only for them to drive off with your (presumably only) hook? It could've been worse I guess but work on your methods dude.

Duendes: 5/10. These guys are assholes but like most of the time you deserve it for stepping on their homes so idk. Are actually kind of fun but not really that scary. Not gonna rank them any lower cause these dudes are petty.

Jersey Devil/Mothman/Bigfoot/El Chupacabra: 10/10 good boys, have done nothing wrong. Won't bother you if you don't bother them.

The Tikwi: 9/10 Creepy as hell. What's that? They sound far away? Newsflash they're right behind you. Body separation? Practical, let's you fit in smaller spaces.

Bloody Mary: 0/10 never showed up at my sleepovers. Not like I cared or anything.

There Call was Coming From Upstairs/The Clown Statue: 5/10 Hello paranoia. As someone who used to be a babysitter this kind of shit made me stick with the kids until the parents were home. Although take away a point from the clown statue story because who the fuck has a clown statue??

Portraits in the Woods: 11/10, creepiest story. Waking up to find the"portraits" staring at you all night were windows? Raises so many questions with no answers. Like the clown statue story only scarier. Will read over and over again and never be okay.

#urban legend #urban legends #ranked #slenderman #kuchisake onna #mothman #la Chupacabra #jersey devil #bigfoot #duende #hook man #bloody mary #cryptids

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we-rate-tmnt · 4 years

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Give us the Donatellos!

Donnie is my favorite so Imma be super biased on this one. Maybe I like smart guys or maybe purple is my favorite color, you’ll never know!

Up first, the og ‘hehe turgle’

Donatello (1987)

Yeah I’m sorry for making this

First of all, not the biggest fan of his voice. It has a bit of a whiny quality to it, and I’m not about all that jazz. His gismo’s look pretty lame a lot of the times, either it’s a grey box with some buttons, dials and flashing lights or looks like it was pulled directly from Lost in Space. Still a cute design but he felt pretty bland and seemed to be used for plot convenience most of the time. To put it simply, he was cute and essential but kinda bland. I’m always really harsh on this version because it’s so painfully dated and cheesy, which ain’t my cup of tea, but what can I say be hehe turgle.

5/10

I had a crush on this Donnie so you know that this is not remotely close to a fair rating but eh, I love him and yall do too

Don (2003)

His voice, such a huge improvement. I’m really sound-oriented and I often like to play a game of ‘I’ve heard the VA before, but which role?’ when I watch cartoons and I don’t mean to brag, but I’m pretty good at it. So when I heard that soft, caring voice, ten year old me was head over heels. Which is one quality I love about him. His heart is so huge, like I can think back to a bunch of side characters and most of them were introduced through Don helping or knowing them. The Atlantians and the homeless in the show owe so much to Don, but he goes out of his way to make sure that they are alright. In the last season (which everyone hated but I actually really liked so fuck me I guess), Splinter is lost into tiny pieces across the web and Don blames himself and goes without sleep and food for days to bring him back. It broke my heart, and I’m pretty sure a lot of others, to see him like that.

On a lighter note, I vaguely remember this one scene where the triceration dude is like ‘you did this!’ and Don’s like ‘I did? Good for me then.’ and had a very pleased grin on his face right after. I don’t know why, but that killed me. Bless Don and his rare, but excellent, comebacks.

He really does so much and there were quite a few episodes focused on him. He also had quite a bit of character development, not as much as Leo, but whoever gets any more development whatsoever besides Leo?

I love him he’s amazing protect him/10

Next up is the Donnie that helped me love my old gap tooth.

Donnie (2012)

Voiced by the very talented Rob Paulson, this Donnie goes back and forth from really great character to eh. The whole April thing was just kinda strange to me and I don’t really think it added anything other than some interesting Casey and Donnie banter. His crush was really strong the first two seasons and came off as stalkerish almost. Although I’m guilty of having a picture of a crush as my lock screen once as well, so I can’t judge that much. I really liked that they actually addressed this when Bigfoot had a crush on Donnie and he realized how April felt. Yeah, that episode was weird and just didn’t make any sense, but it really helped Donnie gain a new perspective and made him go from super crush to (mostly) hidden pining. He has a nice design as well, especially with the gap tooth. I used to have one and was really embarrassed of it but whenever I saw that Donnie had one, I thought it looked neat and I started to see myself in a more positive light. It’s closed up now, but I can still spray water between the little bit that’s left as a parlor trick. But seriously, what the FUCK was up with Don visiososoos whatever tf his name I I don’t understnad my tiny brain don’t understand why my purple boy tried to kill this dude who looked like he should’ve been wearing a red jumpsuit in the background of a pixar robot love story. Anyway, my tall gap tooth son, ily.

7/10

Then, the barely changed but fantastic

Donnie (Heroes in a Half Shell: Blast to the Past)

Baby but Bastard at the same time purely because of the ‘Anyone who bothers me, ejector seat button’s right there’ line.

10/10

Now this version has one of my favorite designs out of all the Donatello’s!

Donatello (2014/2016)

They put a lot of thought into his design psychically, the long body, the near-constant look of surprise and curiosity in his features, the gadgets made of common objects, the wraps on his arms, I would love to be able to think of and make those kinds of details! It was all really well thought out and he stood out since he wasn’t as bulky as the rest of the turtles. I really like the little lines and the actor did a fantastic job on the delivery and really made the character come to life. Some favorites: ‘Ohmygod, they have guns’, the little awed, snorty chuckle when he flips a car over with his bo staff, ‘doitdoitoitdoit im not gonna stop til you do it doditdoit’ and when he straight up yeets himself out of a plane. He has a genuine curiosity in everything he does and I think he might be my favorite version. It’s hard to choose when it comes to Donnie because he varies so wildly. But for detail, voice and writing alone, definitely the 2014 Donnie.

8.5/10

Next up is God himself

Donnie (2018)

Chaotic as all hell, like I can’t think of a more chaotic character from ANY of the versions other than this Donnie. I have a lot of thoughts about his character in general, from design, to psychology and complexes. First and foremost, Donnie is a softshell turtle, meaning he has a DOPE battle shell and overall looks pretty damn neat. Although, I think that just the fact he’s biologically weaker has caused him to put up a lot of boundaries between him and his family and friends. He can’t be incredibly strong like Raph, agile like Leo or fast like Mikey and even though he brags about being smart, he feels almost beneath his brothers and strives to outdo them in any way he can. He wants to show them that he’s just as, if not more so, talented and feels overlooked because his inventions become ‘too smart’ or ‘too over the top’ and even the ones that work out incredibly well are written off for flashier projects.

He depends on technology and feels like that's all he has, and (ironically enough) he’s built up a shield around him. He acts confident and narcissistic and has an almost nihilistic outlook, but he’s frustrated and feels inferior and wants validation more than anything. I came up with this theory when I saw the episode Turtle Dega Nights. I know that the scene was meant for Donnie to express how he feels about Splinter lying about the event and believe that he didn’t genuinely want to hang out with his sons, but that kind of thing feels like it’s been built up over time, like he’s been lied to before about the true meaning behind something. Something like, oh idk, how great his inventions are? Or how helpful he really is? Or how talented he is? Just sayin. Also ngl I might be self projecting a bit, but mmm. Also he has so much purple on him and it’s wayyy more accurate compared to just a purple bandanna bc people who like purple GO ALL OUT. A friend told me this and I thought ‘nah thats not true I like purple’ but then I looked down to find my dyed purple jeans, purple vans and my favorite hoodie, also purple. A really chaotic version but he seriously needs a hug.

9/10

Storytime: One time my friend dressed up as Donnie the same year I was dressing as April O’ Neal and we didn’t even plan it. It was fantastic.

Thank you so much for sending this in! Sorry it’s taking me so long to get around to these! I’m so glad you guys are liking my blog and my opinions!

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #TMNT 1987 #tmnt 2003 #TMNT 2012 #tmnt 2014 #rottmnt #Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #Asks #Donatello

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Sasquatch: Hulu Docuseries Director on Murder by Bigfoot

https://ift.tt/3ao8xI2

Some legends are so powerful they can never die, but they might be able to kill. That is a pervading idea behind Sasquatch, Hulu’s three-part murder-mystery documentary that explores a strange story of the famous cryptid tearing three men limb from limb on a pot farm in Northern California’s Emerald Triangle.

Fittingly premiering on April 20 a.k.a. the weed holiday “420” the series is told through the eyes of investigative journalist David Holthouse. A man who has built his career chasing monstrous humans, such as Neo-Nazis and sexual predators, Holthouse heard of these Bigfoot murders back in 1993 while laying low to avoid some gangs, and passing time working on the farms in the Redwoods. Now, nearly three decades later, he revisits the region to further uncover the truth behind the story.

Directed by Joshua Rofé (Lorena), and produced by Duplass Brothers Productions (Wild, Wild Country), Sasquatch is more than a monster hunt. It does dig into Bigfoot culture, and features interviews with notable squatcher James “Bobo” Fay (Finding Bigfoot), anatomy and anthropology researcher Dr. Jeffrey Meldrum — and even Bob Gimlin, one-half of the Patterson-Gimlin film, the most famous supposed Bigfoot video ever. But the series is likewise an exploration of the illegal marijuana trade in the Emerald Triangle. A haven to where the hippies of the 1960s counterculture once escaped, parts of the three counties that make up the triangle — Humboldt, Trinity, and Mendocino — have become off-the-grid zones where interlopers might vanish.

While a legend of a potentially killer Bigfoot looms large over the area, crossing the wrong character equally poses a mortal danger, and the documentary conveys that palpable human threat. In this way, Sasquatch is gripping, and full of shocking revelations as it takes the viewer on a journey that’s both an examination of cryptozoology and paranormal phenomena, and a true crime investigation.

Rofé joined Den of Geek for a Paranormal Pop Culture Hour to discuss the series, and how he became connected to Holthouse’s strange tale. In the following interview the director opens up about a childhood fear of the Jersey Devil, and how that fear was nothing compared to the frightening nature of some of the people he had to interview for Hulu’s Sasquatch.

Note: Quotes edited lightly for clarity and length

Den of Geek: There are weird parallels here with Lorena, the Lorena Bobbitt documentary, because you take something you assume people know a lot about, but they really only know part of the story.

Joshua Rofé: It’s interesting, my producing partner, Steven Berger, we sort of started to realize in the last couple of years, that our M.O. is we like a story about a household name, a word that is just part of common vernacular … where you come in with a totally preconceived notion. And by the end of it, hopefully, you will never think of that name or that word the same way again.

Why Sasquatch? Was it your own pre-existing fascination?

I grew up in New Jersey. When I was a kid, we’d go to day-camp in the summer, and it was in the Pine Barrens. I grew up terrified of the Jersey Devil. You’d have one or two sleepovers a summer, where you’re camping out, and [counselors] would take you to the old canteen, which is just an abandoned shed. You think, as a nine-year-old, that this is where the Jersey Devil resides. You grow up and sort of never think about that again but it’s still in your being.

Cut to February 2018. I’m making Lorena, and I have dinner with a buddy of mine, Zach Cregger. He’s one of the executive producers on this show. His parting words to me are, “By the way, you’ve got to listen to this podcast. You’re either going to love it, or you’re going to think I’m crazy for loving it, and it’s called Sasquatch Chronicles.”

Immediately, I just had no interest. Despite what I had been sort of terrified over as a kid, with the Jersey Devil, cryptids were just, at that moment in time, they were not something that I gave much thought to. And he said, “Just listen.”

Culture

The Golden Age of Bigfoot Movies

By Jim Knipfel

What Sasquatch Chronicles is, is people calling up with their encounter stories. The next day, I listened to one episode. By the end of four days later, I’d listened to 11 episodes, and I was not hung-up on whether or not I believed the details of the stories. That was sort of irrelevant to me. What I was immediately taken by and really overwhelmed by was I sensed authentic, visceral fear as through-line with every story, from every caller.

I started to have this conversation with myself. Am I going to make a Sasquatch something? I can’t. I make social issue documentaries. My collaborators are going to laugh at me. And then I got to this point at the end of the week, where I said, “I’m going to make a Sasquatch-centric story. I don’t know if it’s a doc, I don’t know if it’s scripted, but this is amazing. And I’m going to do something.”

In the first episode of the documentary, you reveal David hasn’t told this story before. He has plenty of insane stories but kept this one in his back pocket. Why did he tell you about it now?

Keep in mind, David was working on Lorena with me at the time. I knew that in his experience as a gonzo journalist, he had seen and done a lot of crazy things. I sent him a text, and I just said, “Hey, I promise this is the craziest text I’m going to send you for the next five years. I want to find a murder mystery that’s somehow wrapped up in a Sasquatch story and pursue it as the next project.” He texted me right back. He said, “I love it. I got one. I’ll call you in five.” And then he proceeded to tell me that story from 1993, and here we are.

This is a murder investigation of sorts, and an exploration of this outlaw territory, but you begin with interviews from that Sasquatch community. Why did you find it was necessary to include them? You could just have gone straight to the territory where these murders took place.

If we were going to try and figure out what happened with this Sasquatch murder mystery, we needed to start at ground zero. And ground zero in many was, “Well, let’s understand Bigfoot culture. Let’s understand the history of Bigfoot.” Talking to people who can explain that very credibly, particularly in the Bigfoot community, and also talking to people who when they’re telling you about their experience … it feels authentic. You never for a second think, “Oh, this person is putting me on.” You know that they believe what they’re telling you … There’s a former cop in this who, when he relays his experience, I mean, this grown man is about to cry. He is terrified just recalling it, and it’s very tough to dismiss that.

Can you walk me through the unique challenges you faced as you filmed in this pretty dangerous Mendocino area?

All of the credit for that goes to David Holthouse. That’s his work, that’s his reporting, that’s his skillful and relentless development of sources, and frankly, putting himself in really dangerous situations when there was no camera present.

There’d be moments where we would be up there in Northern California, and maybe the next day was an interview with a Squatcher. Certainly, not somebody in the criminal underworld. [The crew] leaves the hotel, 8:00 AM, to get to somebody’s place. David, that night before, was going to meet a potential source, very much from that underworld and say, “Here’s where I’m going to be. If you don’t hear from me by this time, that’s bad.”

I remember just sitting, wide awake till two, three in the morning, just waiting for that text message, “I’m out. I’m safe. I’m heading back to the hotel. I’m good.” So there was a lot of that, and then there was a lot of, when we were in the places that we were, sort of being overcome with this feeling of, “We better not overstay our welcome, because we’re not welcome here to begin with essentially.” And so, that was a new experience.

Do you think some of these folks up there in the Emerald Triangle, legitimately do believe in the existence of Sasquatch?

Absolutely. There are a ton of people up there who believe in the existence of Sasquatch, and they would base that on experiences they will tell you they’ve had. There’s a line David has in the show, where he talks about the belief in the supernatural up there, meaning Northern California, deep in those woods, running on a higher vibration.

You said that you hadn’t really previously experienced this kind of threat of danger with your work. Was this something that David tried to prep you for?

It was more conversation, sort of as a group, of, “Do we need security?” … Actually, you know what? I haven’t thought about this since it happened. We looked into hiring security. Nobody would go. Nobody would go, and it was something more or less like, if it’s going to go down, it’s going to go down.

I don’t remember David prepping us, so much as those conversations as a group, but I think everybody just understood. I think a big rule for me personally, and my crews, when we’re shooting docs is, somebody’s letting us in their home. Man, I don’t care if you have totally different political beliefs, I don’t care what. Someone’s letting us in their home. It’s like please and thank you, and take your shoes off, and be respectful. It was kind of that on steroids for this, which is, “Oh, and somebody might have an AR-15 in the bedroom, so everybody just behave yourself.”

…And the answers to our original question of, “What happened the day that these people claimed a Sasquatch murdered these people?” Well, some of those people were going to potentially hold the answers.

Let me backtrack a little bit to the hardcore Bigfoot stuff because you do talk to Bob Gimlin as well as Bob Hieronimus, who claims he was the guy in a Bigfoot suit. Did you walk away, finding one or the other slightly more reliable?

Oh, I don’t want to answer this one … I think there are going to be people who are going to believe both of these guys. These guys are in their eighties now, and — we’re going into very mild spoilers, but it’s one of my favorite things in the show, actually — there’s a real rivalry that is clearly decades old between the two of them, and it turns out they live down the street from each other, which is amazing. It’s a wild dynamic between the two of them, for sure. As surly as they get when they can be talking about each other, they’re both the nicest guys. They’re both the nicest guys, so welcoming, so thoughtful.

From that nine-year-old kid, camping in the Pine Barrens, terrified of the Jersey Devil, to now being on the other side of this three-part documentary, what is your takeaway about the power of legends?

Like you were saying, from being a kid who was afraid, camping in the Pine Barrens, to then listening to those stories on Sasquatch Chronicles, and hearing that visceral fear from these folks, to then making this and being in those woods — and feeling fear again. I think fear is a very powerful tool, and legends are often born out of people feeling afraid or wanting to make others feel afraid for specific reasons. And that’s where the real story lies, I think, a lot of times. I’m not coming down definitively on the existence of whatever or not, but people like to wield fear in the name of control. I think that’s where a lot of legends are born, and I personally find that endlessly fascinating.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Sasquatch, the three-part documentary directed and executive produced by Joshua Rofé, and produced by Duplass Brothers Productions is available to stream on Hulu now.

The post Sasquatch: Hulu Docuseries Director on Murder by Bigfoot appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3ek9B0D

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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clawingbackthepast · 4 years

Text

Music Videos

Ace of Base

--- All That She Wants

Alanis Morisette

--- Hand in My Pocket

--- Ironic

--- Thank U

Alannah Myles

--- Black Velvet

All Saints

--- Black Coffee

--- I Know Where It’s At

--- Lady Marmalade

--- Never Ever

--- Pure Shores

--- Under the Bridge

Anastacia

--- I’m Outta Love

Annie Lennox

--- No More ‘I Love You’s

--- Walking on Broken Glass

--- Why

Aqua

--- Barbie Girl

Artful Dodger

--- Movin’ Too Fast

Babylon Zoo

--- Spaceman

Backstreet Boys

--- Everybody (Backstreet’s Back)

Baddiel, Skinner and the Lightning Seeds

--- Three Lions (Football’s Coming Home)

The Bangles

--- Eternal Flame

Barenaked Ladies

--- One Week

The Beautiful South

--- A Little Time

Bloodhound Gang

--- The Bad Touch

Britney Spears

--- Baby One More Time

Bryan Adams

--- When You’re Gone (Feat. Mel C)

Bus Stop Feat. Carl Douglas

--- Kung Fu Fighting

B*Witched

--- C’est la Vie

The Cardigans

--- Erase/Rewind

--- Lovefool

--- My Favourite Game

Catatonia

--- Mulder and Scully

--- Road Rage

Charles and Eddie

--- Would I Lie to You

Chris Isaak

--- Wicked Game

Christina Aguilera

--- Genie in a Bottle

Chumbawamba

--- Amnesia

--- Tubthumping

Coldplay

--- Trouble

Coolio

--- Gangsta’s Paradise

Cornershop

--- Brimful of Asha

Cyndi Lauper

--- Hey Now (Girls Just Want to Have Fun)

Deep Blue Something

--- Breakfast at Tiffanys

Des’ree

--- Life

--- You Gotta Be

Dido

--- Here with Me

--- Thank You

Eminem

--- Stan

Enigma

--- Return to Innocence

--- Sadeness

Enya

--- Anywhere Is

--- Only If

Eurythmics

--- There Must Be an Angel (Playing with My Heart)

Everything But the Girl

--- Missing

Fatboy Slim

--- Praise You

Fat Les

--- Vindaloo

Five

--- Everybody Get Up

--- Keep on Movin’

--- We Will Rock You

Fugees

--- Killing Me Softly with His Song

--- Ready or Not

Gabrielle

--- Dreams

--- Out of Reach

--- Rise

--- Sunshine

George Michael

--- As (Feat. Mary J Blige)

--- Fast Love

--- Jesus to a Child

--- Outside

Gina G

--- Ooh Aah Just a Little Bit

Gorillaz

--- Clint Eastwood

--- Dirty Harry

--- Feel Good Inc.

Hanson

--- MMMBop

Jamiroquai

--- Canned Heat

--- Cosmic Girl

--- Deeper Underground

--- Virtual Insanity

Jennifer Page

--- Crush

Kaoma

--- Lambada

LeeAnn Rimes

--- How Do I Live

Lene Marlin

--- Sitting Down Here

Lenny Kravitz

--- American Woman

--- Fly Away

Lisa Stansfield

--- All Around the World

Lou Bega

--- Mambo No. 5

Macy Gray

--- I Try

--- Still

--- Why Didn’t You Call Me

Michael Jackson

--- Heal the World

--- Thriller

Moloko

--- Sing It Back

--- The Time Is Now

M People

--- Search for the Hero

Muse

--- Bliss

--- New Born

--- Plug In Baby

Natalie Imbruglia

--- Torn

Nelly Furtado

--- I’m Like a Bird

--- Turn Off the Light

No Doubt

--- Don’t Speak

Oasis

--- Don’t Look Back in Anger

--- Little By Little

--- Stand By Me

--- Whatever

--- Wonderwall

The Offspring

--- Pretty Fly for a White Guy

--- Why Don’t You Get a Job

OutKast

--- Ms Jackson

Red Hot Chili Peppers

--- Californication

--- Scar Tissue

Ricky Martin

--- Livin’ La Vida Loca

Right Said Fred

--- Deeply Dippy

Robbie Williams

--- Angels

--- Rock DJ

Run DMC vs Jason Nevins

--- It’s Like That

Santana

--- Smooth

Savage Garden

--- To the Moon and Back

--- Truly Madly Deeply

Scatman John

--- Scatman (Ski Ba Bop Ba Dop Bop)

S Club 7

--- Bring It All Back

--- S Club Party

Seal

--- Crazy

--- Killer (Feat. Adamski)

--- Kiss from a Rose

Shania Twain

--- Man! I Feel Like a Woman

--- That Don’t Impress Me Much

--- You’re Still the One

Shanks and Bigfoot

--- Sweet Like Chocolate

Sheryl Crow

--- All I Wanna Do

Simply Red

--- The Air That I Breathe

--- Say You Love Me

--- Stars

Sisqo

--- Thong Song

Sixpence None the Richer

--- Kiss Me

Spice Girls

--- 2 Become 1

--- Mama

--- Spice Up Your Life

--- Stop

--- Viva Forever

--- Wannabe

--- Who Do You Think You Are

Spiller

--- Groovejet (If This Ain’t Love)

Steps

--- 5, 6, 7, 8

--- Tragedy

Take That

--- Could It Be Magic

T.A.T.U.

--- All the Things She Said

Texas

--- Black Eyed Boy

--- Inner Smile

--- In Our Lifetime

--- Say What You Want

--- Summer Son

Tin Tin Out

--- Here’s Where the Story Ends (Feat. Shelly Nelson)

--- What I Am (Feat. Emma Bunton)

Toni Braxton

--- Un-Break My Heart

Toploader

--- Dancing in the Moonlight

Vanessa Williams

--- Save the Best for Last

Vengaboys

--- Up and Down

--- We Like to Party!

The Verve

--- Bitter Sweet Symphony

--- The Drugs Don’t Work

--- Lucky Man

--- Sonnet

Wet Wet Wet

--- Goodnight Girl

--- Love Is All Around

Wheatus

--- Teenage Dirtbag

Whigfield

--- Saturday Night

Will Smith

--- Gettin’ Jiggy Wit It

--- Men in Black

Yazz

--- The Only Way Is Up

Youssou N’Dour

--- 7 Seconds

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reelwriter19 · 4 years

Text

Resurfaced

(Kevin Atwater x Original Female Character)

*Not my gif*

Kevin finds it hard to protect what's his when the past comes back to haunt him and his wife.

Moonlight & ambient noise from the city streets several stories below filled the room. Both of you barely dressed, Kevin’s large muscular frame rested comfortably on top of you in the bed. Having just made love for the first time in weeks, neither one of you wanted to move from this space. He kissed you right above your collarbone, which still managed to make you quiver in all the right places. You gently traced circles along his back and finally decided it was time to break the silence.

“What’s wrong?”

He shifted to place his lips slightly lower on your chest as a distraction. While leaving gentle kisses.. “Everything’s...fine..Bianca..”

Finding it difficult to concentrate and not cave in to another round of passion, you immediately put his head in your hands to get his attention. Motioning for him to move so you could sit up straight, readjusting the sheets over your bare chest as he rolls on to his back, clearly annoyed. Play time was over.

“Kevin, I’m serious. I know something happened. You've been distracted, almost nervous, all week. Then tonight..you were different. I can’t describe it but you know I’m right.”

Kissing your hand, he realized in this moment that honesty with you was the only way. You were his wife after all, the person he loved more than anyone and would do anything to protect. He finally sat up, back towards you, facing the wall. You waited anxiously for words to come out of his mouth.

“It’s Damien. He’s back in Chicago.”

This sentence instantly shot chills down your spine. Kevin turned around to take you in, evaluating your mental state after hearing this news. Tears welling up in your eyes.

“Bianca.”

“How is that possible? I thought...what??”

“He popped up last week. We were working the case. Burgess was under with Upton at this little hole in the wall in Pilsen and he showed up at their meet.

“Did he see her? Is she ok?”

“She’s fine babe. Kim thought she might get made so she dipped out really quickly & let Hailey finish the deal. Voight & I have had a security detail on you ever since.”

You were now panicked and obviously upset that this news was kept from you. “You’ve what?! Don’t you think that’s something I should’ve known?! Oh my God.”

You jump out of bed sheet in tow, now pacing the floor. Kevin, knowing the bombshell he’d just dropped gives you another minute to process before he’s up and off the bed behind you.

Taking your face in his hands, the deepest sincerity in his heart, “B, look at me. I will NEVER let that piece of shit touch you again. Do you hear me? I know I should’ve told you, but I didn’t want you worried, especially without me being here for so long. I gotchu... You’re safe with me.” Kissing your forehead & wiping away your tears.

“I know. I know I am. I just thought this was all over. I don’t want my mess affecting Intelligence. If anything happened to Kim or you because of my past…”

Now sobbing, Kevin wraps you in his reassuring arms, with a steely look of determination to protect his world on his face.

Morning came, and you were startled awake by the sound of Kevin’s phone ringing. You heard the shower running in the next room so you reached to answer it with a groggy hello.

“Hi Hank.”

“Bianca, how you holdin’ up kiddo?”

Hank had become like family to you rather quickly. Your case was special. Damien was a long time predator he and Al had been trying to capture for years. When Hank found you 6 years ago, beaten, bloodied and half conscious, he made it his duty to look after you, especially seeing that you had no relatives in a new city. You were there with him through it all...Justin’s disappearing acts, Al’s passing, which eventually led to you meeting and falling in love with Atwater.

“I thought he was dead. How is he back? Why is he back?”

“I’m doing everything in my power to figure that out, Bianca. Don’t you worry about this ok? We’re gonna get this prick.”

Nothing anyone said could completely reassure you in this moment, but you nodded in agreement anyway.

“Yeah...Kev’s in the shower. I’ll have him call you back.”

You hang up the phone and get out of bed, looking for something to throw on. You find an oversized hoodie of your husbands and a pair of shorts.

You exit the bedroom just as Kevin emerges from the bathroom, towel around his waist.

“Hey...I was gonna wear that today.”

Completely deadpan, “It looks better on me.”

As he walks towards the kitchen to greet you, “You’re right about that. Good morning.”

Attempting to plant a kiss on your cheek, you show zero emotion & continue to prep your cup of tea.

He shakes his head but decides to give you your space and heads to the bedroom to get dressed.

Standing at the threshold of your bedroom door, tea in hand you boldly say, “I want you to put me under.”

Kevin stops in his tracks, as if he’s spotted Bigfoot buying a Venture card on the green line. Pulling his shirt the rest of the way over his head.

“Put you under what??!”

“You know what I mean. Undercover, Kevin. You know I’m part of the reason he’s back in Chicago. He didn’t get what he wanted from me before Voight found me that night. His usual pattern was completely thrown off. I want to help. I need to help catch him.”

Kevin storms passed you in to the living room. You follow.

“HELL NO. Are you joking?! You want us to damn near put you in the hands of the man who almost took you from me, before I got a chance to have you?! Absolutely not.”

You walk towards him softly. Knowing this will be a hard battle to win, you sit in front of him on a chair as he leans against the wall.

“Baby...it’s taken years for me to feel safe in my own skin again. You did that for me. Hank looking after me, leading me to you. This life that we’ve built is the greatest gift I could’ve ever gotten. And now you’re telling me that someone is threatening what we’ve worked to create? I can’t just stand and watch while you guys, my family, puts themselves in harms way for me. I have to do something.

………

A few weeks had gone by and Intelligence still had no leads in their investigation. It was almost as if Damien Charles had never resurfaced...until the team got an alert that a young woman was found dead in an abandoned warehouse, brutally assaulted. They had no real proof, as Damien was very careful, but it was definitely his MO. Kevin was on edge and pissed at you, somehow believing that shutting you out would stop you from getting your way. Knowing your husband wouldn’t budge, you decided to go to Hank to convince him to use you as bait to catch Damien. He reluctantly obliged.

Night fell on the 21st. Upton and Burgess were prepping your phone with a tracking device while Ruzek and Halstead checked weapons and started to vest up. You were nervous, but Kim kept reminding you to take deep breaths. “We’ll be with you the whole time.”

“I know, I just wish Kevin…”

Hailey chimed in, handing you your phone, “Trust me, he’ll come around Bianca. It’s in their nature to want to protect us, but sometimes it’s up to us to take that power back ourselves.”

Kevin was upstairs in the locker room wreaking havoc on anything that wasn’t pinned down. Hank, hearing the commotion from down the hall, rushed in to see who had lost their mind.

“Kevin! Kevin!”

“How could you let her do this man?! I’m her husband! You don’t get to make that kind of decision for her.”

“Neither do you, Kev. This was her choice, do you understand? No matter how much either of us wants to catch this scumbag, she wants him gone a whole lot more. She’s stronger than you think. Now you have a choice. You either hang back, mad at the world or you gear up and back Bianca...back this team.”

Back downstairs, having settled in on the choice you’d made, “Ok, let’s do this.”

As the three of you were headed out of the room to join the others, Kevin walked in. Kim touched his shoulder in an attempt to reassure him as she walked away. You wanted to find solace in his familiar embrace, but you knew it was pointless. The walls were up. He walked towards you and you immediately noticed the tears in his eyes. “Kev…” Grabbing your hand and leaving a kiss on your frontal lobe, he quickly wiped his face and walked out to join the others.

It was a typical undercover mission, except this time, the stakes were much higher. You and Upton walked into the crowded club, dressed as if you were ready to party. The intel the team gathered tracked Damien at this same location several days in a row looking for his next victim. The rest of the team were scattered throughout the room or on surveillance outside the main entrance. This was one of those cases where justice was decided by Voight and his team, no judge or jury necessary.

You spot him almost immediately. Tapping Hailey on the arm, she reports back to the group, “We have eyes on Damien. He’s at the bar talking to a young woman.”

Hailey turns to you and for a moment, you can’t even remember your own name.

“Bianca, you ready? You good?”

“Yes. I’m ready.”

Morphing into a drunken party goer ready to have more fun, you make your way to the bar.

Halstead distracts the woman Damien is speaking to, saving her from imminent danger.

As Damien walks away, pissed that he had to ‘let that one go’ he spots you. A beautiful & familiar face. You’ve changed over the years, but a vulture never forgets its uneaten prey. You’re nervous as hell. More thoughts run through your mind than you can handle at once, but for now, you must push them aside.

No sooner than you spotted him, Damien disappeared into the crowd. You called Kim as a cover while you began to look around. “Hey girlie! I thought you were supposed to meet me tonight? I don’t see you!”

Kim responds on the other line…”Keep talking, Jay is checking the bathroom. He couldn’t have gone far.”

You spot Kevin on the stairwell on the other side of the club. Everything will be fine….

The fire alarm sounds.

Suddenly you feel a sharp pain in your neck.

A look of panic on Kevin’s face in the distance is the last thing you see as the cell phone slips from your hands.

Everything goes BLACK.

Chaos has ensued in the club. The alarm continues to blare, sprinklers shooting out water, and people running in every direction. Voight radios in as he and Ruzek are covering the perimeter, trying to calm down the frantic crowd. “Hailey, talk to me! Is everyone ok in there?!”

Kevin has bolted down the stairs, pushing his way through the crowd as he sees Damien pick you up and drag you out a backdoor. “B!! Bianca!!” It’s as if he’s trying to run in quicksand. As Kevin finally makes it to the back door, Burgess, who isn’t far behind spots your phone on the floor. She blots out after Kevin who is racing to his car. They get in, Kevin, not saying a word, speeding down the block trying not to lose you. Kim radios the team.

“Sarge, Damien has Bianca! We’re headed the wrong way down Parkside Ave in pursuit of a late model gray pick up truck. Tags are Indiana custom DG ...L16. We’re making a right on to George St. now!”

“We’re coming!! Don’t lose them!”

The high speed chase through the streets of Chicago continues as the rest of the team joins Atwater and Burgess. Atwater loses sight of the truck for what seems like an eternity. Ruzek radios Kim… “I just pulled up at the warehouse. I see the truck.”

Kevin picks up speed, gripping the wheel even tighter, “Copy that. Tell him we’re 5 mins out.”

…………………

You begin to come out of your fog. The dark room Damien has you in smells like mildew and death, yet in weird contrast, you’re lying on a mattress with fresh white sheets. Damien, not realizing that you’ve woken up, is in the corner at a table pouring wine and gathering instruments. You scan the room looking for anything to use as a weapon. Fear takes over as he walks towards the bed. You pretend to still be in a daze.

Scanning your body, then touching your face… “Wow. You’re more beautiful than I remember, darling. I’ve been waiting for this chance to be with you again.” He sits you up, started to touch you more, now looking down your shirt.

“Please, don’t…” Before you can get the words out of your mouth, his hand is around your neck. Gasping for air, tears start to stream down your face.

“DON’T act like you don’t want this! Hank Voight stole our chance at happiness years ago. And he thought he had me, but now is our time.”

As Damien leans in to connect his lips with yours, the sound of metal hitting pavement resounds in another area of the warehouse stopping him. He loosens his grip on you allowing just enough time for you to lunge for the bottle of wine and swing it hard against his skull.

“KEVIN!!!!!!” You scream, as you quickly scramble out of Damien’s grip. Racing towards the door, your realize that it’s locked from within. As you begin to pound on the door, Damien slowly starts to move closer to you. “KEVIN!!!! HANK!!! Please...down here!!”

Had the noise you heard a few minutes prior been a false alarm? Did you make a mistake? Damien’s disorientation and head gushing with blood give you time to look around the room for another way out, but nothing. With a newfound burst of energy, he lunges towards you like the madman that he is now pinning you against the wall. You fight him off with every ounce of strength you have.

BOOM!!!!!!

Moments later in true Atwater fashion, the door to your current prison swings open. Without any hesitation, Kevin grabs Damien and tosses him yards across the room. He stands over his exhausted body and begins to pummel his face like a boxing bag. Ruzek rushes in to stop him.

“Kev! Kev! We got him man! We got him.”

Snapping back to reality, Kevin turns his attention back towards you, crouched down near the door crying. Voight and the rest of Intelligence are now in the room. They stand in utter disbelief that this madness has finally come to an end.

Without saying a word, Kevin comes down to your level and begins to gently kiss every inch of your tear-filled face as if there’s healing in his touch….you’ve always known that there is.

You wrap your arms around him as he carefully lifts you up off the floor. You’ve never felt more relieved in all your life.

Voight, clearly broken up at seeing you in this state, puts a hand on Kevins shoulder. “Make sure you get her over to Med. We’ll clean up here.”

Fully leaning on your husband for support, the two of you exit the room.

………………………

Kevin hadn’t left your side since being admitted into the hospital two days ago. He was planted in the chair beside you.

“Do you need anything babe?”

Touching his cheek to reassure him, despite the IV in your arm. “I’m ok, thank you.”

Dr. Halstead walks into the room to check in. “Bianca, we got all of the test results back. The syringe he used to sedate you wasn’t contaminated, and everything else is cleared. You’ll be able to go home today.”

Kevin gets up to shake his hand. “Thank you man. Seriously, thank you.”

“Of course. Bianca take it easy ok? Try to hold off on being a hero for a while.”

With a smile, “I’ll try. Thanks Will”

Will walks out. Voight walks in.

He and Kevin hug.

“Hey Sarge.”

“How’s our patient doing?”

“I get to leave today.”

“Ok! That’s great. Oh look at those balloons.”

Kevin chuckles, “Yeah, everyone stopped by yesterday.”

Voight walks closer to the bed like a proud father and takes your hand. “I’m really proud of your kiddo.” You squeeze his hand in acknowledgement, knowing that for Voight that sentence translated into ‘I love you and I couldn’t bear it if we lost you.’

Voight starts to walk out of the room and Kevin follows.

“Yo Sarge, are we good? You know.”

“He’s gone. Forever this time. Ruzek and I took care of it for you.” With a pat on Kevin’s chest, Voight looks back at you one more time and leaves.

Kevin makes his way back into the room. You sit up a bit, still weak and reach for him.

“Everything ok?”

“Everything’s perfect, B. Everything’s perfect.”

He kisses you as if there’s no one else in the world besides the two of you. His world has been set right once again.

“Let’s get you home.”

#kevinatwaterxreader #kevin atwater x reader #chicagopd #original character #chicago pd x reader #kevin atwater imagine #romance #hank voight #adam ruzek #will halstead #kim burgess #hailey upton #kevin atwater #kevin atwater x original female character #reelwriter19

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

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68 from the winter prompt list seems Very sternclay and I would love to see your take on it, nsfw if it fits would be great too, thank you!!!

Here you go, it is indeed NSFW!

68. you’re obsessed with my homemade soup that I serve at my cafe and I’m too embarrassed to tell you that I’ve only been trying out new recipes to see you get excited for the soup of the day

Stern tries to avoid being rude in public, or in general, really. But right now he’s wondering if he can get away with shoving his face into this soup bowl and licking out the bottom. The food at Amnesty Lodge has always been stellar, but lately the soups are the highlight of his day.

Reluctantly, he leaves the last delicious dregs at the bottom of the blue ceramic bow and heads to the counter to pay his bill.

“How was everything?” Dani rings him up with a smile.

“Incredible. I swear, Barclay out does himself every time I come.”

“Great! I’ll tell him you said so. I know he loves getting feedback on new recipes.”

-------------------------

“You did not say that.” Barclay drags the rag down the counter top.

“Okay, so I didn’t add ‘especially from guys who he thinks are hot,’you got me.” She smirks as she clocks out.

“It’s not my fault he’s so cute when he gets excited about food.”

“Barclay, just ask him out already.”

“But he’s a customer!”

“Who you also see once a week at game night at Duck’s. He’s for sure in friend territory at this point.”

“She’s got a point. Besides, sometimes flirting with customers ends well.” Aubrey leans against the kitchen door, twirling her car keys and winking at her girlfriend, “right, honey?”

“Absolutely, firebug.” Dani loops her arm around Aubrey’s waist, then levels Barclay with the look that routinely makes people mistake her for his little sister, “ask him out, or I am going to leave your number on his check the next time he comes in.”

“Okay, okay” He holds up his hands, chuckling, “you win.”

He waves goodnight, finishes locking up once the two women are gone. Then he climbs the stairs home. Amnesty Lodge was a real lodge, once upon a time. But as the city grew and buildings were divided and repurposed, only the restaurant and the rooms above it, plus the small house next door, remained. Mama, the owner, lives in the house, and Barclay has the apartment. It’s nice; he has no commute, he can run up and change if he gauges his layers wrong, and he likes being able to hear the river running nearby and the traffic humming through his window.

Maybe Joseph would like to come up here after closing some night for coffee? Or is that too forward? Would he be interested if it was forward, or if they took it slow? Would he be interested in Barclay at all? Does he just like him for his soup?

God, the soup. He never meant for it to become a thing. His usual menu had three or four soups of the day in rotation, but then Joseph ordered a bowl of the corn cheddar chowder to go with his club sandwich and ate it so joyfully that Barclay caught him licking his spoon. Which did nothing to quash his budding crush on the guy. So he started trying out new recipes just to see Joseph get excited, and now it seems like Joseph is coming in just for the soup, and the upshot is he may be stuck forever in a soup-loop because of the way Joseph’s eyes crinkle when he’s happy.

He knows that Joseph agreeing to a date would make him happier than a fresh produce delivery. But he has no clue if he really stands a chance with a guy who’s always well-dressed and friendly, when he himself is an often quiet, scraggly looking cook.

Well, if nothing else, he has to try. Dani is not a woman of empty threats.

------------------------------------------------------

“How do you do it?” Joseph rests his chin in his hand, spoon sitting in his empty bowl. He’s at the counter seating, so he can see Barclay working at the grill.

“Do what?”

“Come up with such good recipes. And don’t try to say it’s cookbooks; you said last week that you’ve come up with a lot of them on your own.”

“It’s, uh, it’s nothing special, just a lot of tinkering.” He gets an idea, one that flashes over him so hot and fast he’s afraid the stove caught fire.

“Would, uh, would you like to help me out with the newest one? I get off in an hour since I was on the early shift today.”

“I’d love to! I have some errands to run downtown, so as much as I’d like to hang around for an hour and watch you show off, I’ll see you at seven.” He sets down the cash to cover the bill and a tip, winks, and heads out the door. Barclay really hopes he stays in the suit when he comes back.

“Uh, dude?”

“Yeah, Jake?”

“Toast’s on fire.”

“Fuck!”

-------------------------------------------------

Barclay finishes setting out his mise en place right as there’s a knock on the front door. He swings it open and finds Joseph waiting patiently, a grocery bag slung over his shoulder. He’s still in his suit; Barclay can just spot his black tie with little ufos on it peeking out of his winter coat.

“Dani said I should just come on up.” He slips off his shoes, revealing socks with Bigfoot on them, “and I brought some wine, and a fancy beer I found at Jenny Street Market, since I wasn’t sure what kind of soup it is.”

“My take on a traditional Irish stew, so let's do the beer.” Barclay grabs two pint glasses and pours as Joseph finishes hanging up his coat and joins him in the kitchen. He’s down to his dress shirt and slacks, eagerly rolling up his sleeves before taking the glass.

“Right, what do we do first?”

Barclay takes a prolonged sip to avoid blurting out his real answer, then starts explaining that they need to figure out the right ratio of vegetable to lamb and which spices work best in the stock.

They talk as they work, Joseph sharing his theories on the plausible plot twists in this season of Agent X and Barclay teasing him whenever he gets going on a tangent about the monster of the week episodes. The easy back and forth, the warmth of the apartment as the air fills with spices and butter, the way the kitchen lights plays off Joseph’s face; it feels like a home, and his stomach twists whenever he remembers that the other man will leave in an hour or two.

“Barclay, I have to ask; why the sudden zest for soup?” Joseph sets his glass down, still half full because they’re talking too much to drink more than a sip at a time.

“Uhhh, just, uhh a good fit for a winter menu.” Barclay sets the lid onto the dutch oven; it’ll take at least forty-five minutes for this batch to thicken and develop flavor. When he hazards a glance at Joseph, the man is studying him, one eyebrow raised.

“Is that all?”

He washes his hands to buy time to build up his courage, then sighs, “Nope. It started after the first time you ordered it. You just got so excited whenever I had a new soup of the day, and I liked making you feel that way, so I just kept finding or making new recipes I hoped you’d like. Heh” he rubs his wrist, anxious, “sounds hella weird when I say it out loud like that.”

Turning, he finds Joseph with his hands covering his mouth.

“Fuck, sorry, probably shouldn’t have confessed that when we’re alone-”

“What? Oh, Barclay,” Joseph steps forward, taking his hands, “I’m not upset, I’m shocked. That’s, um, that’s one of the sweetest things anyone’s done for me, going to all that trouble, you didn’t have to.” The words are a bit stuttery and jumbled, Joseph going pinker after each one.

“I wanted to. I’d make a whole new menu every day if it’d make you smile that way.”

His lower back bangs into the counter as Joseph crowds him, fingers digging into his hair so roughly that it starts coming loose from its tie. He tastes like beer and stock he kept sampling, and Barclay licks it up, pressing his tongue between his welcoming lips, desperate to bring them as close together as possible.

Joseph pulls away, resting their foreheads together, as he undoes Barclay’s shirt with ruthless efficiency, “Do you have any idea how hot that is?”

“The...doing nice things for you part?” He cups Joseph’s cheeks, trailing his thumbs over the hints of five o’ clock shadow.

“You went to all that trouble, just for me.” Joseph drags his mouth up Barclay’s neck as he continues, “just to make me happy.”

“I mean, made me happy too.” He mumbles into black hair.

“I’m trying to compliment you, big guy.” Joseph nips his bottom lip.

“Oh fuck.” He whimpers at the nickname, at the way the other man doesn’t hesitate to shove his hands up his now-bare chest, demanding and adoring, “guess all those jokes about the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach are true.”

“While the food helps, there’s so much more about you that I like. For instance” he drags his hands down to Barclay’s stomach before palming his hardening cock through his jean, “you’re the most handsome man in town.”

He whimpers louder this time, Joseph keeping up the light pressure on his cock.

“Bedroom?” It’s both an encouragement and a question, the ton letting Barclay know he’s welcome to continue but not obligated to.

“The, can’t, can’t leave the stove unattended.” He gropes Joseph’s ass through his slacks, kisses his neck as he tries to calculate if turning off the stew will mess up the recipe.

“I love how responsible you are.” It’s another compliment, a dead serious one, “and I have an idea.” He steps back, hurries over to the grocery bag, and pulls out a small, rectangular box.

“I couldn’t tell if this was a date, so I decided to be on the safe side.” He surveys the kitchen, “feel like picking a surface to bend me over?”

Barclay practically knocks a stack of cookbooks off the tiny kitchen table, dragging a laughing Joseph over to shove him across it.

“This okay?” He pants as he covers the back of his neck with kisses.

“Better than okay. Barclay please, I’ve, um, I’ve been thinking about this for weeks, and basically non-stop for the last two hours.”

“Fucking-A” He’s amazed there isn’t a cartoonish boi-oi-oing when he gets his pants and boxers down, his cock--his whole being, really--aching for the chance to fuck the man in front of him. Getting Joseph’s pants down takes two tries, and opening the condom takes three because he’s shaking so hard from excitement.

“Need a hand, big guy?”

“Nope. Just need this.”

“FUCKohfuck, shit” Joseph reaches forward, gripping the far edge of the table as Barclay sinks into him, “yes, need it too, need you so bad.”

“You got me babe” he loops one arm around Joseph’s hips, sets his free hand next to his on the table for balance, “and I got you.” He starts slow, relishing every little sound he gets in reply to his thrusts, kissing any exposed skin he can find, then rucking Joseph’s shirt up his back to find more.

Joseph’s hand moves down towards his cock, but Barclay gently guides it back onto the table, “No need to babe. Like I said, I got you.”

He doesn't mean to start railing him the instant after his fingers find his cock. It’s more that feeling him soaking and hard, all because of (and all for) him, the grateful moan he lets out at the contact, the way he grinds his hips back and forth, it sets off every part of Barclay’s brain at once, and all he wants to do is take him, make him cum, break the fucking table showing him how much he wants him.

“Ohmylord” Joseph gasps, raising his head, “oh my fucking--Barclay yes, like that, lord you don;t disappoint.” His smile is ecstatic, more than the worlds clumsiest hand-job deserves, and Barclay forces his fingers to find their professional finesse, rub and stroke in the ways that make Joseph beg for more.

He growls as he feels his orgasm building; not yet, no fucking way, he wants to feel Joseph cum around him. With Herculean effort, he stills his hips and focuses, growling again as Joseph tightens around him. When the man beneath him cums, the last of his restraint evaporates and he hammers into him, table scraping forward inch by inch in time with his grunts and Joseph’s weakening moans.

His climax doubles him over, and he spills with a muffled moan, mouthing at Joseph’s shoulder through his shirt.

Then his legs give, ten minutes of furious fucking after a ten hour shift enough for them to peace out. He lands with an “oof” on the floor, and Joseph is laughing again as he turns to stare down at him.

“Are you okay down there?”

He gives a thumbs up, “Cute guy just shorted out all my circuits, no big.”

Joseph fixes his pants and shirt, joins him on the floor and pulls him into his arms, “I’d say it was very big.”

Barclay snickers, rests his head on his shoulder, “Walked into that one. Gimme sec, then I can make us some dinner. Don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

“We’re not having soup?”

Barclay kisses his cheek, “Nah, you can have that for dinner tomorrow at the Lodge.”

Joseph’s smile is full of delicious trouble, “How about for breakfast?”

He holds him close, smiling at him, “Babe, you got yourself a deal.”

#agent stern/barclay #sternclay #winter fills #trans agent stern

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