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bibliocratic · 3 years

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clear the area jonmartin, post-MAG200 content warnings in the tags

They earn their ending. A happy-ever-after beyond the gaze of any eyes.

Jon endures his abdication. This world has no Archivists, has need of none, the thankless crown of Knowing finally unburdened from his shoulders. The blood washes off Martin’s hands with soap and scrubbing and scalding water. They live.

The end. In conclusion. Fin.

Jon’s new scar, the packaging of his skin split ragged from collarbone to sternum, fades like sun-caught paint. A maw of red pursing to a gummy primrose pink, settling into a rough cartography of white.

The first few months are hard. Brimstone flare-up silences and ice-pick shouting, open-handed forgiveness and closed-fist weeping. They drain themselves to husks with anger and worry and grief until there is enough space for better things to grow there in their stead. Jon’s nightmares were a nightly stormfront to bear, sweated sheets and dawn fanfares of panic and dread, but he is learning now, with the space for his ribs to expand, that it is ok for them to breathe here.

Jon digs up the garden with a rusty trowel until it is a bumpy canvas of mulch and soil, dirt tucked under his fingernails and decorated with smudges up to his elbows. He hums while he irons their shirts in front of the television, thoughtless and senseless with tune.

Martin has tried to, but the sound goes down the wrong way.

Martin is happy.

It isn’t the sight as such, that might sit as a film over his vision to tinge his waking sepia. The reddest thing they own is a terracotta plant plot brimming with raggedy thyme that lives a precarious cliff-top existence on the kitchen windowsill. He observes Jon’s face in all its variations, even pained – when he snags splinters in his fingers, when he stubs his toe on the stone front step and swears damnation – and his response is sympathy tempered by admonishment.

It’s not the sensation, not really, that might tremble on his skin. Martin’s palms tend to dryness inside their homely bubble of creaky central heating, hemmed in by boisterous coastal winds. He handles bread knives and butter knives and steak knives and carving knives without the muscle memory of other blades, and he thinks he might be getting pretty handy with his oven experimentation.

It’s the sound. It wakes him, the noise lingering like the echo of a slap.

The slick punch of metal into muscle. A tooth-bared, tense-jawed gasp.

Resurfacing to shocked consciousness, he would be seized by a frenzy, to know, to check. His scattering hand scrabbling for the lamp with such force he hit it off the nightstand to roll in a giddy clatter, throwing off the covers to rapidly pollute both of them with the outside air. Jon would be rocked from sleep, groggy, panicked, and Martin’s words would not come, a train of thought trying to race full steam where no one had laid tracks, so it would be just the two of them, exhausted and upset and amping the other up in misery.

Now, upon his rousing, Martin knows not to turn on the light. He does not check. The aftermath of punch-gasp curls in his ear, and he inhale-exhale-inhales with the ferocity of mantra, and clamps the threatened tears in the clench of his teeth.

He does not wake Jon.

“How did you sleep?”

“Oh, you know me. Like a log.”

He is happy. He is. Why wouldn’t he be?

Jon rumbles like a rusty mechanism with snoring whenever he drops off on his back, and he mumbles accusatory when Martin coaxes him to his side. Martin finds black hairs on his pillowcase, in the shower plug. Jon is a vista of experience since the Eye left him, who gets hungry and tired and grumpy and drunk and silly and fed-up and giggly. Jon searches him out with the surety of magnets, and loves him, loves him, loves him. He seals kisses to Martin’s new landscape of extensive scars. Their disagreements, when they surface, are as meaningful and lasting as stones skipped on water.

Martin wanted this. He wants this. The rhythms of domesticity fading to foam on an untroubled shore.

He is out of practise with happiness, that’s all. It doesn’t come to him like breathing. He needs to till the earth of it, shelter its seeds from a thousand circling crows until it bears harvest.

He just has to try harder.

Night-time.

An episode or two of something simple, Jon nodding off like a capsizing ship before the credits. Encouraging him up in grousing, unwilling increments, rubbing out the nettle sting of pins and needles up his own arm. Check the locks, the light switches. Brush teeth. Pyjamas. Put his phone to charge, read until Jon succumbs to sleep. Click the light off, pushing Jon onto his side so his mouth doesn’t dry. Jon squirming around like a fastidious octopus until he has at least half his limbs hooked over Martin.

The dark creating shadow play. In the absence, Martin colouring in the gaps with lurid shades of disaster.

A creak – the rattle of a door downstairs, an intruder unfastening the back door, transferring their weight upon the staircase. A unfamiliar scent – the recollection of smoke-stench in his nostrils, the acrid promise of gas, the ferrous pungency of blood. The rain will flood their house to drown them. The wind will blow their roof in. Jon hooks his leg around Martin, the skin void of hair where Daisy’s mouth had almost torn it off, and all he can envision is the ways this could be destroyed as he watches.

Bundle Jon close. Ignore the rain, the itch at the bottom of his stomach, the queasy roil of his fear. Drift into unkind sleep populated with its garden of earthly terrors.

Martin is… not happy. Not exactly. And that’s fine. It’s fine.

Jon is happy.

Jon, rubbing at the compression lines around his hips, the accusatory splay of the top button refusing to budge closed:

“I can’t fit into my jeans.”

Martin enfolds him from behind, planting his palms over the slight paunch of Jon’s stomach, filled out through sensible eating and small indulgences and a hunger that will never be ravenous but has restored its human qualities.

“Hmm. It’s a good look on you. Healthier.”

“Or it’s middle age.”

“Or it’s eating things that aren’t tea and meal-deal sandwiches.”

“Or other people’s terror.”

“Oh yes, you’re right, I completely forgot about your subsistence diet of eldritch and unbidden horrors in a luscious wholegrain wrap, forgive me.”

Jon laughs at that. The sound has not yet lost its novelty for either of them.

He shifts, turns, his arms a buoy around Martin’s stomach.

“You’ve lost weight.”

“Must be all the clean air,” Martin quips. “All that healthy living.”

Punch. Gasp. Exhale.

Martin wakes up.

When his heart has wound down from the pace of its gallop, he extricates himself from Jon’s grip. It is a laborious task to find the places where they’ve joined in the night and pull them apart, like separating fabric snagged on rosebushes.

He gets some water from the cold tap in the kitchen. Sits heavily on the sofa, the room cossetted by the gloom.

Punch. Gasp. Exhale.

His hands shake.

He doesn’t go back to bed.

He isn’t happy, but he could grow to be. He could. He could. He just isn’t trying hard enough.

Some days, he feels like he’s waiting for the ice to give under them.

Check the passers-by as they walk. Anyone familiar, any teeth filed too sharp, anything animal or blood-shot, any eyes that glance too deep.

Check the oven. The gas knobs are angled to off but a leak is not impossible in a house this old, their alarm might malfunction, they might fall asleep and some spark from a plug socket could catch and incite a conflagration.

Check the window latches. The opening wide enough for a body to squirm through, the claws of a Hunter marring the sill. Wriggling infestations that invade through the letter box, the keyhole, the gap under the door where the wind can whistle through.

Check. Check. Check.

Jon is happy. Jon has a job, work friends, a hundred small luxuries that he has struggled to earn. Jon is happy, so why can’t he be? He went through so much less, the blood washed off easily with soap, what the fuck does he have to cry over –

Martin has always crafted his masks from scrap, tongue out in concentration, piecing things together in low light, a make-do-and-mend of his own devising. His early efforts, the paper mâché and glue easily cracked before he learned to shore up his constructions. He has a small collection garnered over years.

The quiet-voiced, muffled-stepped, muted-smiled creation of a Good Son.

The zipped-mouth, no-refusals-no-complaints-yes-of-course-how-high earnestness of the Good Employee, the desperation sanded off the edges so no one could see.

The I’ll-get-the-first-round friendliness, the open-handed, open-hearted, too-naïve Good Colleague.

This new mask forms in increments, in the same way a rising mound of dirt marks the extent of a grave being dug.

He doesn’t mean to. It’s just he’s better at not talking about things. He always has been. And it is an ugly, easy comfort, to slip back into bad habits.

And Jon is happy.

All the things Martin does not wish to permit the light to touch he compresses inside like shaken soda. The rot in him deepens structural, the places where he papers over moulds and fungal speckles with the distraction of their new life. His smile parades simple, contented, cheeky, teasing, and there is a meticulous artistry in each. He sketches interest, paints joy, manufactures irritation out of the clay of nothingness that he allows himself to feel instead of the overwhelming rush of everything else.

I love you, his mouth murmurs, laughs, sighs, groans, and that at least is always true.

The mask of a Good Partner slips on tailor-made.

They find their nine-to-fives. Jon’s job is uneventful, boring, and nowhere near an Archive. He works in a registry office for the council, filing and organising and he’s cheerfully lied on his CV in order to get it. He gets the bus and texts Martin grumpy faces and GIFs summarising his mood when he gets suck in the commute or some idiot parks in a bus lane, he has a couple of colleagues he likes and a greater number that he tolerates, he gets a hot chocolate from this universe’s overpriced multinational chain on his lunch hour. When he gets home, he complains with delight at the mundanity of his dissatisfactions, regales Martin with tales of meagre drama.

Martin gets a cleaning job at a school. It is monotonous, dull and safe. Martin loses track of the time easily, quagmired in his musings. The children are wary of him and his visible scarring but it doesn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. The teachers are friendly enough, as well as the other cleaning staff, but he does not make friends. They’ll have to move anyway, if anything finds them here, if the Fears emerge again.

Martin tries not to feel like he’s waiting.

He wants to have a good night’s sleep.

“I’ll have breakfast at the school, don’t worry.”

“There were some leftovers from the canteen, so I’m kind of full.”

“It was one of the teacher’s birthdays, you know, Denise? Heh, might have had a bit too much cake. I’ll pop this in the fridge for later though, it’ll keep till tomorrow.”

“I’m just not that hungry tonight, Jon.”

He feels sharper when he doesn’t eat. It is uncomfortable, a scratched-out, hollowing sensation, but things focus more. He can control nothing else but this, and it feels good, to have this mastery over himself when so much is beyond him.

He drops down notches on his belt and tells Jon it’s all the walking he’s doing.

The world continues to happen to them. He goes to the cinema with Jon and picks at popcorn and encourages Jon’s outraged opinion. He meets Jon’s mildly interesting work friends and plays nice and excels at small talk, and he drinks half a cider that he nurses over the evening because it’s making his head fuggy. His body communicates its sharpness to him and he gains grim satisfaction from ignoring it. He goes to work and goes home and doesn’t sleep and goes to work and goes home and doesn’t sleep.

Martin does his best at living, and his mask doesn’t slip.

“You seem tired,” Jon pries his words out carefully, picking them out of his teeth as one would scraps. “Is… is everything ok?”

“Yeah, sure it is. Why?”

“… you seem a bit down today. Recently. Is anything… is there anything you want to talk about?”

“I’ve just been working too hard. Been a while since I had to do double-shifts, heh, I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“If you’re sure?”

Jon shifts to a different position where he’s sat on the sofa, his legs tucking up under him. Martin endures his questioning gaze with practise.

“Yeah, I’m all good.”

Martin delivers a hand-crafted smile that’s gilded heavily with guilelessness and reassurance. He watches as Jon believes him and hates himself.

“You know… You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but you can – you know you can talk to me, Martin?”

Martin’s eyes focus on Jon’s chest at the point where a knife once sunk in, and doesn’t reply.

Punch. Gasp. Exhale.

Martin wakes up.

Jon has twisted over onto his back again, rattling like a chain-smoker’s cough with his snoring. They were quiet that evening, tangled up in their own thoughts, but there is none of that distance in sleep. During the night, Jon’s wormed himself out of the covers with a single-minded determination, his restless legs squashing the duvet to the bottom of the bed on his side, encouraging Martin’s to follow suit.

He’s shirtless, his top chucked off to pile unceremoniously on the floor. The temperature is ripe with a burgeoning summer heat, and Jon tosses and complains if he’s overwarm, and Martin didn’t think he’d get to feel the drudgery of another lived summer. He’s shirtless, and the room is palled in sweltering dark that softens the vague shapes of the wardrobe, the chest of drawers, the knickknacks of the life they’re building together. He’s shirtless, and Martin cannot see where the scar is, the only scar of Jon’s he has ever thought ugly, but he knows it is there. That he put it there. That he could just as easily be waking up alone.

His body pains him to live in it. His stomach tight and bottomed out empty.

He is so so tired.

Martin’s heartbeat does not slow down. His chest constricting, and he swallows, a sharp sound hiccupping in his throat. He stifles it with a forceful sniff but more come as a painful spasming wave, and he has to sit up if any air is to dribble into his lungs.

He should get up. He has to get up, do this in the bathroom, doubled-over the sink, stifling his weakness where it cannot be witnessed. He cannot do this here.

Punch. Gasp.

His burning face is soaked as he bunches up his sleeves against his reddening eyes. A calming exhale drains out shaky, moulds itself into another loud sob. He plants his hands over his mouth, screwing his eyes closed, and this will pass, he’s fine, this will pass…

“Martin?”

I’m sorry to wake you, he thinks to say. It’s nothing, go back to sleep, stop looking at me Jon, I’m fine, I’m fine, it’s nothing, it’s nothing…

His shoulders start to shake.

“Martin?” Jon repeats slowly. And the ice creaks and cracks and Martin gasps and then it breaks, and the force of his damned-up grief is tidal, catastrophic and he sobs into his hands.

“It’s… it’s alright – it’s… it was a nightmare, that’s all, ‘s alright…”

“It’s not!” Martin bubbles out, the words mashed to a wail in his hands. “It’s not, it’s not, it’ll ruin this…”

“Hey.” Jon brings his arm around Martin and he buries his head in the bony crook of his shoulder because he does not want to meet Jon’s eyes. “What do you mean? Martin?”

Jon rubs at his back. Martin’s body betrays him in a hundred ways as it collapses around him. His weeping wrings him out, dry-mouthed and headachy and trembling when he subsides into shivery breaths.

“Talk to me,” Jon says. “Please.”

“You’re so happy,” Martin sniffs out. “I-I want you to be happy, god, o-of course I do. Things are, they’re good, they’re good and we won, s-s-so why does it feel like I’m still holding my breath? I-I go to bed and I’m frightened of every noise, and I wake up and I’m terrified that someone somehow could take this all away, and I can’t sleep, and I-I’m tired, Jon, I’m tired of holding my breath, and it’s all – it’s all so much a-a-a-and I can’t – ”

“Oh, Martin – ”

His words fail him then. Jon holds him up and his arms do not loosen.

“We-we’re going to fix this,” Jon says after a long while. “I promise you, together, we’ll – we’ll talk to someone. You aren’t alone in this. Together, alright, we’ll do this together. We’ve survived – everything else, we can get through this too.”

“I don’t know if I can believe you,” Martin says, too drained to avoid honesty.

“…Maybe not yet,” Jon says after a pause. “That’s OK. I can wait.”

I’m sorry, Martin attempts to say but Jon presses a kiss to his forehead.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Jon says. He strokes Martin’s sweat-soaked hair.

“… Can we talk? Tomorrow? You don’t have to tell me everything, but… I’d like to be there for you, if you want me. If you’ll let me.”

Martin nods because he doesn’t trust his gummed-up throat. Jon takes that as an answer.

Dawn comes in slowly enough but they see it in together.

#tma #the magnus archives #cw racing thoughts #cw anxiety #tw eating disorder #tw ptsd #ask to tag #cw nightmares #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #jonmartin #tma spoilers

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alittlepudge-neverhurtnobody · 2 years

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Remember when you posted about Roger from Rent? God I love me a washed up rockstar going soft. I just. Been thinking about that Yknow

AHAHAHA I DO, ANON and i am sending incredibly toxic vibes to spotify for removing the rent obcr and therefore making it impossible to add "christmas bells" to my holiday playlist, therefore making it impossible for me to celebrate the season by listening to roger davis talk about how getting fat is the one vice he has left, therefore rendering my entire holiday season INFERIOR

ok first of all anon this message is superbly timed bc i finally got my shit together and collected all of MY soft washed-up rock star tidbits into a cohesive masterpost, so if you haven't already gotten to know my OCs Hunter and Kate, now's your chance!

but uhhhh YEAH SOFT WASHED-UP ROCK STARS!! my favorite kind 😎 (though soft rock stars in their prime are a very close second.) rock stars who've accumulated a huge collection of leftover tour t-shirts that don't cover their bellies anymore. squeezing into tight jeans only to find that they don't button anymore ... or zip ... or fit over their hips.

this trope is so good from so many angles but i think my faves are, in no particular order:

1. ANGSTY: soft washed-up rock stars who fell out into obscurity and don't know what to do with themselves now, and are using food to cope with that aimlessness and lack of purpose. living on takeout and frozen meals bc they never learned to cook out on the road and sleeping too much bc what else do they have to do? staying out of the spotlight bc they're self-conscious about the weight they've gained and how different they look and how nothing fits the way it used to and they're afraid of what the tabloids might say. maybe they're in denial and keep squeezing into those old clothes to keep up appearances, or maybe they retreat into oversized hoodies and sweats to hide their new figure. lots of comfort-eating, lots of angstily learning how to reposition their instrument against their plump belly or learning how to move in time with it now that they're bigger and softer. soothing their ills with fast food and sweets and maybe going home to visit family for a while to lick their wounds while their waistline continues to expand ...

2. OWNING IT: soft washed-up rock stars who've just decided fuck it, it's punk to be fat, no one cares what they're doing or what they look like now anyway, so what if they lEt ThEmSeLvEs gO. they're finally going to enjoy actual good food instead of convenience store meals on the road or late-night instant noodles in the studio. doing livestreams for fans on their social media that are sometimes music but more often are cooking videos about the fun new recipes they're getting into on the side. (josh ramsay of marianas trench is not soft OR washed-up but he does sometimes do really fun cooking videos on his instagram!) doing road trips to visit friends and other band members and looking softer and softer in each picture they post. reveling in their new size and indulgence and posting cheeky pics of shirts that are starting to ride up or tattoos that are stretching as they soften up.

3. FUCKING FINALLY: soft washed-up rock stars whose partners have just been WAITING for the day they settle down bc they have an agreement to start playing with some kinky stuff once they do, and while they relax and figure out what comes next for their career, they let their partner feed them up and they put on plenty of well-deserved weight and get a lot of mileage out of all their old skinny jeans and tight t-shirts that are now a few sizes too small 😏 AND THEN when the band reunites after a hiatus or for an anniversary tour or something, they go back fat and happy and get to have some long-distance fun with their partner via video calls of junk food at rest stops and long phone calls to tell them about all the parts of performing and touring that have changed with their new bigger body. OR their partner is ALSO in the band, so before the hiatus/break/whatever they got to tease each other with kinky stuff but it wasn't feasible or sustainable while their career was still active, so they get to indulge all those fantasies in their downtime and then when they go BACK on the road or get the band back together or whatever, they have an established routine they get to adapt to their tour life and explore in that environment instead. sleeping in tiny bus bunks except one of them is much bigger now and oh no, what if you have to lie on top of me ..... and you're 300 pounds ......

4. AND THEY WERE BANDMATES: OR, OR, a combination of these where bandmate A is crushing super hard on bandmate B while they're an active band, but also bandmate A keeps thinking about how much they want to feed bandmate B and how fucking hot bandmate B would be if they were chubby instead of rail-thin/if the little belly they hide under t-shirts were a bigger belly. but their crush is unrequited/they never make a move but then shit goes down and the band breaks up and they don't see each other for a couple years bc of what broke them up. but then they all start talking again gradually and decide to try again ... except that, due to either scenarios #1 or #2 from this list, bandmate B has gotten pretty chubby since they last saw each other, and bandmate A is DYING at how their soft, plump belly pushes at their t-shirts and how their thick hips and thighs fill out their tight jeans and how their round, full cheeks make them even more adorable than they did the last time they were together. the reunion brings them closer together until they start to fall for each other, and bandmate B is self-conscious about how bandmate A will see them now that they're heavier, but bandmate A is SUPER INTO IT and it is not a problem AT ALL.

#anon #chubby rock stars #fic inspo #wg text #GOD this is such a good trope anon thank you

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itsjustmyfantasyroom · 3 years

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Paper Surprise.

This popped into my head at the end of season 3 and what happened with Miguel. Thank you again @beccabarba for looking over this for me

Warnings: Smut with a mad twist.

WC: 1906

Enjoy x

It was your last morning in Cabo, you had been there for 2 weeks with your best friend Alice. The holiday was well deserved and something you guys had been saving for, for a while wanting to go all out. You were on cloud nine. You hadn’t been this happy and relaxed in such a long time, you had an amazing tan, had done some great shopping, partied every night and had managed to hook up with one of the most handsome men you had seen in while.

You had drought the tickets to the Cabo beach night club before you guys had even booked the holiday, it being the only night you could actually get entry, it being that popular. You felt so sexy with your sun kissed skin, your beach wave hair, just enough make up and your short black thinned strapped v neck sun dress with an open back. You felt like a million dollars and didn’t take long for you to catch his eye.

You could see him sitting in his private cabana on the edge of the day bed, three sides closed in and thick sheer drapes pulled back at the front. You stood at the bar, your eyes scanning over his perfectly placed hair, his brown intense eyes, his bearded face, his jaw that could cut glass, his white button down undone just enough clinging to his body and his tan pants fitting just right around his wide spread legs. You bit your bottom lip letting your eyes scan back up his body when your eyes met his and he gave you a wink.

Your cheeks blushed but you gave him a small shy smile as the bar tender handed you and Alice your drinks. Alice grabbed your hand and started to pull you back towards the dance floor. As you walked away you looked over your shoulder and he raised his glass up to you nodding his head slightly. It was a long while later when you walked off the dance floor onto the sand to get some fresh air, Alice was kissing some guy she met on the dance floor in a dark corner.

You walked across the sand, the warmth of the night hitting your skin as you walked to the edge of the water letting the waves wash over your feet and you looked out into the never ending dark of the night, the moon shining down into the ripples of the waves,

“You’re an amazing dancer”

Your head shot to the side and a small smile pulled to your face when your eyes locked with a brown pair that you had been flirty with earlier,

“Thank you” you smiled over at him “So is your cabana”

“Marcus” he held his hand out to you.

“Y/N” you placed your hand in his big one, he lifting the back of your hand to his lips kissing it, his hairy face brushing on your skin sending goose bumps all over your body and heat into your belly “Nice to meet you Marcus”

“Like wise” he grinned down at you “I haven’t seen you here before. First time?”

“Ah yeah. You come here every night?”

“I manage it. Helping out a friend while he runs another one, in the Height’s actually” The handsome man smiled down at you.

“The Ramirez one?” you raised an eye brow and he nodded back.

“You from New York?”

“I’ am actually. Here on holidays. That’s one of the best night clubs around, I know it quite well”

He smiled down at you and you felt your knees tremble looking into the sea of brown hoping they wouldn’t give way under you.

“Would you like to join me for a drink?”

“I would love too”

He lent over grabbing your arm linking it around his bent one, guiding you back up the beach towards the private cabana. He gave some orders to the wait staff in Spanish, you had no idea what he was saying, but the way he rolled his r’s made you think what else that tongue could do. He came back over to sit next to you, his body heat sending a shiver down your spine and he gave you a smile making your panties dampen. Cocktails turned into shots and the conversation was flowing amazingly,

“I might have to come to New York and buy some of your art for the club”

“It’s not my art, I just run the gallery. But New York and I will welcome you any time” You smirked up at him.

He reached up to your cheek, cupping it and rubbing his long thumb across your jaw pulling you towards him,

“You know I wouldn’t be coming just for the art” he licked his lips “Your more beautiful than anything that could be hung on any wall”

You turned your head kissing the palm of his hand before you lent forward, ghosting his lips with yours,

“Your pretty handsome yourself Marcus”

His lips crashed on yours, his tongue pushing into your mouth. You grabbed onto the wrist of the hand that was still on your cheek and your other gripping onto his shirt at his waist, his other hand resting between your shoulder blades pulling you towards him. You swallowed each other’s moans and groans before you pulled away to catch your breath,

“I’ am up for pretty much anything, but having a crowd watching isn’t one of them” you giggled low peaking his lips again.

You pulled away getting up and walked to one side of the cabana unhooking one of the drapes pulling it across as you walked to the other side doing the same thing, pulling them both so they were closed together. You turned around looking at him sitting on the edge of the day bed, his legs spread and a tent in his pants. You chuckled and walked back over to him. He reached for your hand pulling you to perch you on one leg, his arm hooking around your middle and his other going to your thigh running up under your dress.

You threaded one hand into his hair and reached down with your other undoing his shirt buttons, running your hand over his amazing chest. Not breaking the kiss to move you, he grabbed your leg so you could straddle his lap and you started to roll your hips down on him, both his hands running up your thighs to grope at your ass through your panties. You reached down between you both while your tongue rolled with his, undoing his belt, button and zipper, sliding your hand down into his boxers, wrapping your hand around his hard thick cock pulling it out, his pre cum coating your hand. He broke the kiss, his head dropping back and his jaw slack,

“Yes Y/N, like that” he groaned.

You lent forward kissing his neck, your teeth grazing over his skin as you made your way up to his ear nipping at his ear lobe,

“Protection?” you whispered into his ear.

He reached into his pocket pulling out a condom, ripping it open with his teeth. You moved your hands away from him to roll it on before you lifted yourself up slightly lining yourself to him, pulling your panties to one side and sinking down on him till you were sitting. His heavy hooded eyes looked up at you as he sucked in his bottom lip when you started to roll your hips over him.

His hands slid up your body around to your chest, cupping you through your cloths, squeezing them and pushing them together. Your hands started down to his abs and ran up over his chest, taking his nipples between your thumb and pointer finger, toying with them till they were both hard and then they slid up onto his neck your nails slightly digging into his skin,

“You are so sexy” he groaned, his hand’s on your hips rocking you back and forth bucking up into you.

You could see his chest raising, his grunts sounding more aggressive and rolled your hips faster, chasing your own release. He let go of one breast and it quickly found its way between you both, his long thumb connecting with your clit rolling it in circles.

It wasn’t long before your nails where digging hard into his skin pulling a hiss from his lips, your eyes slammed shut and your head dropped forward, your moans filling the small space you were both in. In a heartbeat he rolled you onto your back on the day bed, pushing both your legs up near your ears thrusting deep into you, another smaller orgasms washing over you when he stilled, gasping coming deep inside you.

He slowly let your legs drop down and he looked down at you, a big grin on both your faces. He lent down kissing you lightly, brushing your hair out of your face before getting up off you, disposing of the condom and zipping himself away. You stood up straightening yourself up pushing your dress back down and flattening your hair.

You were sitting in the hotel restaurant, you and Alice exchanging all the dirty details over breakfast waiting for your airport transfer when your waiter sat the days local paper on the table and refilled your juice glass,

“Oh Alice he was amazing. Everything about him was just- its making me wet just thinking about it” you both giggled “I’ll never forget Marcus. Maybe we come back next month what do you think?”

Alice rolled her eyes at you as you picked up the paper unfolding it, yours eyes scanning over the page trying to make sense of the Spanish words in front of you.

“That would be a no. You had an amazing holiday romance, leave it at that. He is probably a shit boyfriend or a murder or something”

You picked up your juice cup taking a sip, you turned the page and spat your juice straight out of your mouth all over the paper and table, chocking trying to catch your breath.

“Y/N, you ok?” Alice got up off her chair walking around to rub your back.

“Thank you” You finally settled down and had a sip of water “Alice, this is him” your eyes were wide looking at the picture on the page.

Alice looked over your shoulder down at the big black and white picture, with a big heading and the words under the picture ‘Miguel Galindo’

“He’s hot, good job” Alice patted your shoulder and moved to sit down.

“I can’t understand this, it’s in Spanish. He told me his name was Marcus, but under the picture it says Miguel Galindo” You grabbed your phone opening the web browser typing in the name, taking a deep breath and clicking enter. You gasped at the results, your hand coming up over your mouth “Oh my goodness Alice he- it’s-he” you were lost for words, speed reading what was on your screen.

Alice grabbed your phone scrolling through the stories on the screen and she chuckled,

“Only you could be in another country and manage to pick up and sleep with a criminal that is wanted for multiple charges from the DEA”

“He told me I was beautiful” your eyes were wide in disbelief.

“You are. Just write it off as a holiday romance and leave it at that”

Tags: @beccabarba @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo @alwaysachorusgirl @withmyteeth @amorestevens

#miguel galindo #miguel galindo x reader #miguel galindo smut #miguel galindo x you #mayans mc #mayans fanfic #maynas #mayans smut #mayansmc

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footballxwrites · 3 years

Note

The MM taking care of you drunk but with Trent please? ❤️

“Look what the cat’s dragged in” you heard announced on your arrival, stumbling into the house and swinging the door shut behind you with a thud before attempting to guide yourself into the living room. “Trentttt” you whined, throwing a hissy fit as you balanced your hands firmly on the side table, flinging your heels off and dashing them across the wooden flooring as your legs were on the verge of giving way, “whatttt” he shouted back, mimicking your tone as you heard an abundance of laughs in the background, remembering he had a couple mates over for a lads night while you went out clubbing with the girls.

“Come here pl-please” you muttered out your words in small burps, “can you not come to me” he called as you let out a swear under your breath, hearing FIFA and the clicks of controller buttons, “Trent Alexander-Arnold” you huffed back in a serious tone, “are you telling me a game is more important than your loving gir-girlfriend?”

“Course not” a smile appeared on your lips as that familiar face you’d missed came into view, walking towards your drunken body that was well and truly done for the night. “Woah watch it” he giggled as your arms moved to grab him, only to misjudge the distance and nearly fall flat on your face, “I’m a b-bit wasted” you replied in hiccups, a sleepy grin staying on your face as he pulled you closer to his warm scented chest. “How many you had eh” he asked, slinging your arm over his shoulder before carefully stumbling into the living room and collapsing onto the sofa, “one too many I’m guessing...” as you nodded, a proud look upon your face.

“Cheers for the night lads but it’s probably time you headed off, I’ve got to get this one up the stairs and into bed somehow” he laughed, raising his eyebrows, knowing it was bout to be an effort as it always is when you have a few drinks. “Take a lady out before trying to sleep with her” you jokingly slurred, letting out a yawn as he rolled his eyes before showing his mates out.

“Right should we get you into something comfy first off? he smiled, hovering over you while scooping your half sleeping body into his arms and taking you up into the bedroom where he gently placed you on the fresh crisp sheets. “It’s been a good night” you said as he hunted around for your pyjamas, eventually giving up and grabbing a spare t shirt of his that was a few sizes too big for you before fiddling with the dress zip. “Well I’m glad, as long as you had fun that’s all that matters” he winked, dropping your dress to the floor and throwing the black tee over your head, “I love you” you sobbed as he stared confused, watching your lip quiver. “Oh I love you more my baby” he jokingly cooed, leaning down to peck your lips which you happily agreed, going in for a full force snog, you might be drunk but still most definitely horny as ever.

“Noooo” you whispered as he moved away only for you to grab his hand and stop him, “i need you” you smirked, gazing up at him while biting your lip. “What you need is sleep...you can have me all you want in the morning but I doubt you will with the dreaded hangover” he giggled back, kissing your head one last time before shuffling the sheets back for you to climb into, “right, pills are on the side next to the lovely big glass of water and the sick bowl is down there next to the bed...please aim for that because these are clean sheets, fresh on today ok?”

“Yes yes I understand, now get in” you pulled him towards you as he smiled, whipping off his clothes so he was just in his boxers before getting in behind you, his body heat bringing you comfort as his muscly arms drooped around you, resting comfortably on your hips, “thank you...I know I’m a nuisance when I’m sm-smashed” you sighed, spinning around in his grip to face him. “No you’re not, a bit whingy but nothing new there” he joked as you tapped his chest, “goodnight darling” he moved you closer as your eyes closed, “I feel the headache coming already” you whined, “get some sleep because you’ll feel ten times worse in a couple hours” he giggled as the pair of you dozed off in seconds 🤍

#football #footballer #football blurb #footballer imagine #trent alexander arnold #liverpool fc

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byulsgrease · 3 years

Text

inextricably tie-d

The tie around your neck feels ever-so-slightly tighter.

(moonbyul/solar... kind of? x gender neutral reader, ~900 words)

cw: angst

a/n: ok when I was first trying to write the last byul fluff it was pretty late at night (for me) so it started veering into angst instead and this was the result

edit: I just got the WORST idea for a possible next part... we'll see if I have the courage to write it (okay I kinda did? not full-fledged though)

[prev]

Staring at your underwear-clad body in the mirror, your eyes drift to the suit on the hanger, spotless and pressed, folded perfectly. Your hands steady the hanger while slipping the pants off of it, the fabric almost cool in your fingers. Gingerly stepping into each leg as to not ruin the pleat, you zip and button them up - an action you haven't done in forever. It takes you a second to get the button through the slit, the movement nearly foreign.

Wow, they're perfect.

The hem stops just at the tops of your feet and they fit perfectly everywhere else. Her assertion rings through your mind: "Trust me. Don't underestimate the value of a tailor, the extra expense is absolutely worth it." Your teeth close in on your bottom lip at the recollection.

I guess she was right.

Strangely motivated to put on the rest, the white button-up swishes off the hanger, your fingers making quick work of the buttons. The jacket soon follows. You shuffle back a couple steps on the carpet to get a better look in the mirror. The shirt and jacket fit perfectly, much like the pants, laying nicely in all the right places with no wildly-long sleeves or bunchy areas. The whole ensemble reminds you of the color of the sky on the various nights spent stargazing together - midnight navy.

"Maybe you'll look almost as good as me."

The last element hangs limp around the hanger hook - a dirt-cheap black tie from Daiso. You own a tailored suit. How is that damn thing still in your possession?

"Button your shirt up all the way for the tie to sit right around the collar."

You whip the tie off the hanger to slip it behind your upturned shirt collar.

The skinny end starts off higher than the other.

It essentially ties itself. Your thumb and index finger slide up the length of the rough fabric to place the knot at the base of your neck. In the mirror, you can't help but stare at the gentle pinch holding the tie, hand lingering there at the top button of your dress shirt.

"Now this... is my favorite part."

It's like she's in the room. The warmth of her front pressed into your back, hands enveloping your waist. The low yet melodic tone of her voice in your ear, praising you for trying but still managing to laugh playfully at your frustration.

Why is this so difficult?

But those sweet moments were now long gone. A few too many laughs had turned the corner to mockery, which turned to hurt feelings and miscommunication. She always told you to let it go and take a joke, but your stubbornness constantly ate that reassurance away. Your claim to work on that apparently fell through - in tandem with your relationship.

You wouldn't be saying these things if there wasn’t an element of truth in them.

She let you keep the suit, though. It was obviously tailor-made, much like she was for you. Or, well, how you at least imagined she was.

Did I ask for too much? Was I not enough? If I was, would she have stayed?

The thought spirals and a stream of what-ifs fill your mind, subjects of many-a-journal-entry over the last year. This hadn’t happened in a while.

Why did she leave?

Snapping out of your own mind, your hands grasp the flaps of the suit jacket and tug down assuredly, fingers tucked inside. Confidence, your brain tells you. You look damn good.

“Kidding, kidding.”

Reaching into the closet for your dress shoes, you slip a hand into your pocket to check your phone one last time. Kim Yongsun - that was all you knew about this blind date. Her name.

Does she still think about me?

She’s obviously still on your mind, you’re sporting the very suit she bought for you.

It’s been a year, stop kidding yourself.

Bottom making contact with the hard plastic seat, you head out on the train, the lights outside the window blurring in the dark tunnel. You anxiously fidget with your tie, unconsciously fiddling with the split ends of the unraveling seams.

Am I ready for this? No. But is anyone ever?

The determination to evict her from your mind finds fuel from bitter stubbornness as your dress shoes pound the pavement of the train platform. You need this to end. It's been far too long. As you step into the restaurant, you spot someone fervently scanning the room. A timidly awkward introduction follows but her bright smile shines through it all as your legs slip underneath the tablecloth to take a seat.

"Um, maybe I'm being too forward since we literally just met," leaning forward with her hands in her lap, "but your outfit... daamn."

Don't you dare mention her. First date sacrilege!

You tune out the inner monologue with a mild-mannered smile. "Thanks. An old friend picked it out for me." Hopefully your words came out in a tone not too cold. The tie around your neck feels ever-so-slightly tighter. Your thumb swipes the condensation off the side of your water class before grabbing it to take a sip, trying to wash away the lump that formed in your throat with that tangential mention of her, tinged with unwarranted longing.

What the hell am I doing here?

She might not be in your life anymore, but you can’t deny you’re inextricably tied, much like the tight fabric knot resting at the base of your throat.

[next] cw: suggestive

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jasontoddsbae · 3 years

Text

Distraction

Request for: @princesslanawe

Warnings: smut (sex againts a wall), curse language

Out of everything in yours and Jasons shared closet you had to pick one the sexiest things in there to go out in. Jason was planning on taking you out for the day..clothes shopping seeming as you two don't get to have quality time together often and your 2 year anniversary was coming up. You needed stuff for that special occasion.

"Baby come on. You've been in the bathroom for about 45 minutes" Jason called not wanting to go out too late. He was wearing a black off white hoodie with black fitted jeans that looked amazing around his thighs and a pair red and grey vans what you got him for his birthday.

"Just a sec, Jay" you called back. What were you doing in there? Just moments after you called out to Jason he heard the creak of the bathroom door open. He was sitting on your shared King sized bed and looked over at you wondering why it took so long for you to get ready.

The sight he saw made his jaw drop. You were wearing a very fitted velvety Red juicy coutour tracksuit with a J zipper. The zipper was lowered just under your boobs and a white tank top showed off your boob line. You also wore perfect length false eye lashes and Red lipstick to match your clothing. Your brunette hair was put up in a messy bun. You were also wearing white air force 1s to match well with your whole outfit.

"H-holy shit. You look so hot" Jason complimented with stutter. His eyes were wide open and his mouth still hadn't closed. Your curved hips were showing perfectly..enough to drive him crazy. Your boobs were teasing him the most.

"Thank you, handsome" you giggle with a little blush that had spread across your cheeks. You slowly made your way to the hallway of your shared apartment and thats when Jason felt like he was going to lose control. His eyes darted straight to your ass. Perfectly fitted by the bottoms and pretty much showing to anyone that walked behind you. His mind was corrupt with dirty images of him fucking you with your pants just below your ass.

"Baby? Babe!" You called staring at your boyfriend "Jay? Come on. We gotta go" you chuckled. His face had frozen as he slowly stood up to meet you in the hallway. His face, neck and ears matched your lipstick colour. He tried holding himself back. He didn't want to walk around with his bulge poking at his jeans.

----------

The car drive to your first destination was filled with laughter, smiled and small pecks on each others lips. Jasons hand didn't leave your thigh while he was driving. He gave it an occasional squeeze and rub knowing that you liked it causing you to blush a little more.

You two had reached your favourite clothing store and you excitedly hopped out of the car.

"Thank you for taking me out today, baby" you smiled and gave Jason a short loving kiss.

"I need to treat my girl like the queen she is" he said in a cheesy and teasing tone. He took hold of your hand and you walked inside of the store. As soon as you entered you were receiving stares from men and women from all directions. It made you uncomfortable and jason could tell by how you pushed yourself closer to his side.

Jason gave a few of the men death stares..jealousy starting to rise a little. He didn't like men looking at his girl. Not one bit. He subconscious placed the hand he had in yours on your ass and growled at those who still dared to stare.

"What is it with these people? Don't they know what respect is?" You said out loud causing the rest of the creeps to mind their own business. Jason faced you

"Its kind of hard not to stare at you, baby" he sighed and lightly squeezed your ass not remembering he placed it there. You looked at him with a little giggle and lightly tapped his hand off your ass making him sigh once more.

Once you reached the sexy underwear area you bent over to look at the matching bra set that lay on a lower shelf. Jason stood a little behind you and caught the whole view of your ass refusing to look away. He felt himself become a little hard as he got a better view. He could see your pussy lips pushing against the smooth material of your pants. Fuck..were you not wearing any panties?

"Baby" he desperately said "Y/N" he repeated. He shoved his hands in his pockets to stop himself from touching you.

"Whats wrong, jay?" You stood up holding 3 bra and pantie sets. 1 red, 1 black and one white. He bit his lip and eyed his crotch. His bulge just poking againts his pants.

"You got a hard-on while being in the underwear section?" You grinned and went back to looking around for things that you liked

"N-no. Its those fucking pants, baby. They are begging me to rip them off you. The full moon is showing" Jason whispered following to where you were going

"Oh god, jay" you laughed. It made you laugh so hard that you had to bend over and clutch your stomach. You were not expecting that. "You are such a mess" you continued laughing causing jason to grumble. The humiliation made him turn red and a frowned his eyebrows at you..unimpressed.

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

Clothes shopping was done. You ended up getting 2 sets of grey sweatpants, 3 sets of lacey matched underwear, 2 pairs knee high socks and some perfume that Jason picked out. You two were walking down a highstreet with more stores that Jason had driven you both too. There was a makeup store that you were interested in seeming as you needed more eye lashes and lipsticks.

You and Jason proudly walked in to the store smiling at the work assistant that was putting up a new stand. His hand gripped your waist and his pinky ended up playing with the waistband of your pants.

"Jay. Do you think a black or dark purple lipstick would match my anniversary dress?" You looked over at him holding out 2 shades that you really liked and you caught him staring at your semi revealing cleavage which made him lick his lips. You rolled your eyes and took both moving on to the eyelashes. The eyelashes were the easiest to pick out. You get the exact name ones everytime. You like wearing them when you're going out or on very special nights and jason spend together. He thinks they make your e/c pop more and the way you look up at him with his cock in your mouth makes them more attractive.

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

You both made it out of the store with your shopping and made it to the car. You went to put your things in the trunk of Jason's black BMW when you felt two pairs of big hands wrap around your waist, a chin on your shoulder and a very hard poke againts your ass causing you to squeal.

"Baby you've been torturing me all day" Jason groaned as he rubbed against you not caring if you were in public. "You and that fucking tracksuit. Your ass jiggling at every step you took, your boobs bouncing along with your ass. You bending over right in front of me showing me a full view of that pussy and ass..baby I've been walking around with a noticeable stiff one all day and you've been ignoring me" Jason whined

"J-jay. Fuck. I didn't know" you innocently said letting out a needy moan.

"When we get home..I'm going to destroy you" Jason growled giving you a light suck on side of your neck from behind. His hand placed a firm slap against your ass as he released you and headed to the drivers seat in the car. The car drive home was filled with teasing touches and dirty words causing your knees to feel weak and a puddle to form againts the crotch part of your pants. You could see your wetness through them.

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

You and Jason reaches the small private parking lot that was only meant to be used for people who lived in your apartment building. You both wasted no time getting the things out of the trunk of the car and headed up to your apartment. Jasons eyes stayed on your ass as you lead the way to your door.

"Hurry up baby" Jason demanded as you grabbed the keys from Jason. His hands were full with your shopping bags. You both heard the lock unlock and hurried inside of your home.

"Please take me..right now" you begged as you closed the door behind you. Jason dropped the bags just in front of the door and wasted no time reaching out for you and attaching his lips to yours. Once again his hands found your ass and he pushed you against the wall of your hallway.

"I'm going to fuck you in to this wall, ok? I'm going to drill in to your pussy until you feel numb. Do you understand?" Jason breathed out, his husky and raspy voice turning you on even more

"Yes..please. I understand" you begged feeling so weak in the legs. Your wetness was leaking more and you could feel it drip down your leg.

"Good girl. Take off your shoes for me and toss that jacket on the floor so I can fuck you in your pants and that sexy tank top that has been driving me just as nuts" he demanded once more. You loved following his orders because once you did..he always gave you what you wanted. His cock.

After discarding your jacket and shoes you palmed Jason through his boxers causing him to let out a low groan that shot right to your core.

"Patience, kitten" Jason teased. He locked his aqauamarine eyes with your dark ones and hurriedly kicked his shoes off and undid his zip and button pulling down his jeans and kicking them off in to the direction of the lounge leaving him his hoodie and boxers.

"Jay. Hurry up. I can't wait any longer baby" you begged more and with that jason wrenched down your pants just under your ass so he had access to your pussy and pulled his boxers down causing his thick and vainy, leaking cock to spring out and hit his hidden stomach. Jason then lifted you in his arms and pushed you against the wall so that your back was firmly against it placing his hands on your ass

"What do you want, y/n?" He teased, lowering his head in to your neck and started to suck a hickey againts your pulse.

"I want you to fuck me. Take me here..right now.. and take me hard. Fuck me please" you sounded so desperate but you knew he liked it when you begged

"As you wish, princess" and then Jason plunged his cock balls deep inside of you causing you both to moan and you let out a scream. He instantly started drilling in to your pussy making you moan out for him and grip his hoodie like your life depended on it.

"OOOOOOH FUCK YES! Yes! Yes! Right there!" You screamed letting him know how good he felt inside of you

"MmmmMMM fuck!! Your pussy is so weeeetttt" he dragged out his moans making no effort to hide the pleasure he was receiving. "You like that?" He bit his lip almost causing it to bleed. His hair was already beginning to stick to his forehead and his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure.

"Yes baby! Yes! I love when you fuck me hard and rough" you cried out. His thrusts becoming more chaotic causing you to bang againts to wall but not the point where it hurt. While continuing to thrust jason placed the bend of your legs on the inner crease of his arm for deeper access..this new angle almost making you cum as he rubbed againta your g-spot perfectly.

"ooooOOOOH my fucking goooOOODDDD!! Just like that!! Just like fucking that!! Keep fucking me!" Tears were streaming down your face at the feeling of his cock rubbing against that one spot that always drove you crazy. His cock filled you so nicely stretching you to the max.

Jason raised his head from the attack he did on your neck marking you up from your collarbone to just below your ear and shoved his tongue in your mouth. His thrusts were becoming a little sloppy as his release was near. Your tongue gladly accepted his and you both fought for dominance

"MMMMMMMM!!" You moaned out load in to the kiss and threw your head back once more "I'm gonna fucking cuuuuuuuuum!!" Yup. The neighbours definitely heard you both. You never really bothered hiding your moans

"Uuuuggh fuck. Then cum baby. Milk my cock! Fuckfuckfuck!" Just a few more sloppy thrusts sent you over the edge and you were screaming louder than before

"JAAAASON! OH MY FUCKING GOD!!!!!!! I'M CUMMING!!!!" you literally cried at the amount of pleasure you were receiving. Jason continued to rock you through your orgasm and that caused you to clench so hard on his cock that your pussy pushed it out of you and you squirted all over him and the floor.

"SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!! You feel so fucking good! Please! Keep fucking me! Please baby!!" You moaned. He plunged his cock back inside of your soaked heat and began fucking his way into your cervix. Your legs were dead and your throat was sore from all of the screaming but you continued letting jason fuck you until he met his release.

"I'm gonna cum, ok? I'm gonna..fuuuck..I'm gonna fill you with my cum, baby" jasons voice started to break at the load he was holding in. 1. 2. 3. 4- more thrusts later and "Y/NNNN!! Fuck!! Fuck! Shiiiit! Baby!!" He pretty much cried out at the feeling of a very powerful orgasm he just released inside of you. He latched his lips against yours to calm himself down from his high..lightly thrusting in to you to make sure every drop of cum is fucked inside of you.

After about 3 minutes of panting and heavy breathes jason slips out of you slowly as you're both still so sensitive. You gripped on to him not being able to stand without his support

"Fuck..that was amazing" you giggled breathlessly

"I agree, baby. Now let's get us both cleaned up" he chuckled placing a loving kiss on your head

"You're the best. I love you, Jason Peter todd"

"I love you too y/l/n"

Is this ok? 🥺

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #red hood x reader #red hood smut

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stripper-patrick · 3 years

Note

Uh, hi. May I request some smut w Henry cavill x Indian reader? Some lazy Sunday morning/Friday night stuff? Thank you 🥺💕 I love your blog. I binge read most of it today. Hehe

Heaux Tales 👜 Henry Cavill

Warnings: smut, language, unprotected, rough, cheating, fingering, reverse voyeurism (?), daddy kink, quickie

Tags: @rebellious-desires @mrsbanreswillseeyou @eclecticblkgirl @designerwriterchic @bvssmob

Relationship: Henry Cavill x Indian/black reader

I zip down the highway switching into the right lane before taking the exit hitting a quick right turn. I whine my hips to the music of my throwbacks playlist the song Temperature by Sean Paul blasting through the speakers.

I’m coming straight from work to my sisters house and where she’s having a game night. My boyfriend unfortunately couldn’t make it seeing as he couldn’t take off the graveyard shift. I make a left entering into the driveway of the nice looking townhome my sister Armani owns.

I park in a parallel spot and see a few cars, about 4, already outside of her house. I step out pulling down my suede mini skirt with a vertical seam. I smooth out my sepia colored shirt feeling the wind start to pick up outside. I grab my black duster sliding it over my thick arms before grabbing my chestnut brown purse and walking up to the door. I try the door handle and it opens allowing me in. I take off my loafers at the door and hear the chattering of a few guests.

This house used to be our parents right before they died. We had 2 beautiful mothers who loved us very much but sadly they were involved in a head on collision that killed one of them on impact. The other died in the hospital just a day later but I was grateful for those few hours.

I look at the pictures of all of us and then I hear my name being shouted with joy. “YN” I’m greeted with open arms from my older sister. The fair-skinned 5’8 woman with a cheeky smile plastered on her face looks at me “don’t be mad” she bites her lip

“I’m already mad now” which was only half of a joke. What did she do this time? Appears from behind a wall, my recent ex Henry, with a cheeky smile as well. His perfectly short hair and fitted tee makes me wonder if he does all the thing he used to do to me, to his... snow bunnies. He started off as a fling which then turned into a 2 year relationship and when that ended we were still having sex with each other. I really only stopped fucking him just a year ago, right before I got with my current boyfriend, Cameron. The breakup was mutual but still sour. He was my best friend. Now every time I look I see a different broad on his shoulder. Like a trophy. He’s got a bitch for everyday of the week.

“Oh nice seeing you Henry” I glare at Armani and she smiles. The tall Brit walks over to me engulfing me in his warm embrace. Almost made me miss us being together. He lets me go and I step back.

“Nice seeing you as well. You look good” he glanced me up and down quickly before returning to my eyes. I can’t help but remember that those were one of his favorite features about me. My chocolate brown eyes.

“As do you” an content silence falls in the air and Armani clears her throat

“Let’s get you drunk and get this game night started” she grabs my hand and Henry follows us. We part ways, him heading to the living room and me and my sister to the kitchen where I look at her.

“I miss his goofy side” she tried to plea. I shake my head grabbing a shot of tequila and taking it straight to the head. I pour another shot downing it before shaking my head squinting at the taste. I walk to the living room meeting everyone. 2 of our cousins Briette and Joseline and Bri’s husband Carter.

“Hey guys” I hug them and look for a place to sit. Unfortunately I’m seated only one person away from Henry and I cross my legs watching his eyes move back and forth between my thighs and his hands that are resting on his thighs. Let’s begin the games.

....

I’m slightly tipsy and I’m definitely hot from the whiskey I’ve been consuming. I’m not completely drunk but I’m a little tipsy. We’re playing the game midnight taboo and it’s me, Henry and Briette vs. Armani, Carter and Jo. It’s Henry’s turn to read off the cards and we guess.

The timer starts and he begins. “Um ok Brazzers, Xvideos-“

“Porn” Bri yells out he nods grabbing another card

“YN I do this to you all the time”

“Fuck?”

“Something while we do that”

“Spanking? Cumming?” he shakes his head looking dead at me “choking” he nods grabbing another card

“Young adult kids play this at a party it’s a this or that activity”

“Get high or get drunk” I answer he shakes his head

“It’s a gathered activity” this British man and his proper English are blowing me right now. I think hard hearing Bri yell out random stuff and I finally come up with something “truth or dare”

“Time” Carter yells. Henry smiles nodding and I can’t help but begin thinking about when he would choke me while he thrashed his hips in me. I press my legs together biting my lip before raising my eyes to accidentally meet his. I knock back another shot wincing at the taste before just zoning off.

....

We’ve moved onto another game which is cards against humanity. Me and Henry are seated close next to each other of course not by my picking. He decided to sit this game out and just watch us play. I sort through my cards trying to find a good one that Joseline would like. I place one down and Henry inches closer making my breath catch in my throat.

“I see the way you keep looking at me” he whispers. Without a word being exchanged I look at him and unconsciously bite my lip. Something that would’ve made him take me right then and there.

As Joseline reads off the cards deciding on which is her favorite determining who gets the point Henry’s hand caresses my thigh. I always melted when he’d squeeze and knead my thigh like dough.

“I like Y/N’s” I smile and grab a black card reading it off. “This is the prime of my life. I’m young, hot and full of blank”

As the crowd sorts through their cards Henry’s hands creeps higher and higher softly rubbing my clothed clit. He does it so swiftly that I’m already at the point where I don’t want him to stop. He slides my panties to the side running his fingers through my slick using that to rub my coated pearl.

I jolt slightly opening my legs more where he inserts 2 fingers pumping slowly. Everyone hands me their cards and I clear my throat trying to act as normal as possible. “Crippling debt” I smile biting my lip again as Henry keeps grazing that spot “money moves, asshole full of jelly beans, tax fraud, and oh god” his fingers dig deeper inside of me as I mask my moan grinding my hips in the seat. I can see the tent forming in his pants and trust me he was packing.

“And crabs” Henry curls his fingers against my g-spot. My body jerks as Bri looks at me.

“You ok?”

“Yes I’m good. I like tax fraud” Carter smiles and grabs a black card. I grab Henry’s wrist and he leans close to my ear again.

“That’s it pet ride my fingers until you cum” oh god I wanna protest so bad but it feels so good. I rest my hand on his bulge rubbing it through his pants. I move my hand to his thigh as my legs shake and I close my eyes succumbing to my demise in front of my sister and cousins.

“Good girl” he removed his fingers rubbing my clit making my body jerk.

“Excuse me I’m going to the bathroom” I glance at him and walk shakily to the bathroom. I hear a chair scuffle and look at myself in the mirror.

“You have a boyfriend get it together” I try to pep talk myself but knowing the capabilities Henry has I can’t help myself but to fall under his spell once more.

A small knock appears at the door and I open it. Henry lightly pushes me inside and licks the door behind him. Immediately his lips are attached to mine and it was like our first time together all over again. My hands wrap around his waist and he moves his large hands down my butt lifting my skirt a little.

“Please fuck me” I beg quietly. He picks me up setting me on the counter. My legs open for him as he drops his pants finally letting his shaft spring free. Henry tears off my underwear dropping then next to his pants and guiding the tip through my wetness rubbing my sensitive clit. I grab him by the back of his neck planting an open mouth kiss on him letting his tongue explore what was previously (and still might be) his.

Henry finally stops teasing and legs go of his dick letting it align with my entrance. His hand moves to the counter behind me slowly stretching me out like the old days. My jaw drops as I sink into his touch feeling his dick fill me up. He holds my hips as my legs dangle in the crease of his shoulders while my arms support myself behind me. He looks done watching his dick submerge in my juices as he fucks me slowly.

“please daddy” he speeds up per my internal request forcing me to lean back pressing my head against the mirror as he wraps his hand around my throat. My legs start to unconsciously close and Henry forces them back open stroking me harder. My royal blue painted acrylic nails dig into his forearm as he brings me closer pressing a warm kiss on my lips. My body sparks each time he plummets inside of me pressing my g-spot like a button.

“Oh god” I mewl careful not to make too much noise. He moves down to my neck using both hands to keep my legs apart sucking at the patch of sensitive skin. My eyes roll to the back of my head hearing his grunts and moans as he digs deep in my guts. My hand wraps around his muscular shoulders and moving up to his short curly locks. I feel that hole inside of me start to open up with each thrust.

“Henry I’m close” I warn trying to brace myself. He pushes my bottom forward going deeper and my toes begin curling.

“Cum for daddy pet” he moans. My body tenses up and I cover my mouth masking a loud moan. I shutter and shake under him hearing his small sadistic laugh. His breath filled with bourbon and mint is hot against my ear.

Once my convulsions stop Henry puts my feet on the ground and turns me around sliding back in and pounding me out. He pulls my head up looking at is on the mirror. Henry places my arms behind my back. I watch Henry’s gave turn to bliss coating my walls in his seed. Something that’s happened multiple times. We’ve had our fair share of pregnancy scares.

“Look at what you do to daddy” my jaw drops as he keeps pumping making sure he’s emptied inside of me. “Fuck I miss the way you make me feel”

He slows down before coming to a stop where I feel his dick pulsing inside of me. I lift up pressing my back against his chest holding him in a powerful meaningful kiss.

“I know I’ve put you through a lot and I’m sorry” he says. I shake my head kissing him again.

I come to my senses and pull his dick out thinking about my boyfriend “shit what did I do?”

#smut #fluff #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x black reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill smut #Friday night smut

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fluffyximagines · 4 years

Text

Not Just Pretending

(Gossip Girl) Nate Archibald x Reader

Word Count: 783

Summary: You and Nate are pretending to be dating, except maybe the feelings are more real than the two of you will admit.

A/N: This is only a short one but it’s my first one for this character so hope you enjoy. Please send in some requests! I could really use some ideas/inspiration :)

Masterlist

“Remind me again why I’m pretending to be your girlfriend” You called out to Nate who was in the next room.

“My family keep trying to set me up with random girls that I have no interest in” Nate replies, entering the room.

“That doesn’t explain why it has to be me” You gave him a confused look.

“Because they love you. You should have seen how excited they were when I told them that we were dating. Plus, you’re my best friend and I didn’t want to introduce them to someone they didn’t already know” Nate explained, buttoning up his shirt.

“I guess that makes sense” You shrugged as you struggled to zip up the back of your dress, “hey, can you help me with this?”

“Only if you help me to do my tie” Nate smiled, handing you his tie before gently brushing your hair out of the way to get to your dress.

“Of course” You nodded, wrapping his tie around his neck.”What is happening with your hair? It’s a mess.” You laughed, before sighing “don’t worry I’ll fix it.” You began brushing Nate’s hair out of his face and patting down the bits that were sticking up. “There much better.”

“Thanks” Nate whispered, his face still only inches away from yours. His eyes locked with yours, before slowly moving down to your lips.

“No problem” You quickly turned your head away, taking a step back.

“Hi Mum” Nate smiled, giving his mum a hug. The two of you had just arrived at Nate’s cousins engagement party.

“Oh y/n, I’m so glad you are here. We’re all so happy that you and Nate are finally together” Nate’s mum turned to wrap you in her arms.

“It’s about time the two of you got together” One of Nate’s aunts joined the conversation.

“We all knew it was going to happen eventually. You just make him so happy, he talks about you all the time” Anne continued.

“Ok mum that’s enough” Nate awkwardly laughed, cutting his mum off. He then turned to you, “how about we go get something to drink.”

“So you talk about me” You teased Nate as the two of you walked away, giggling slightly at the embarrassed look on Nate’s face.

“Thanks for today” Nate yawned, resting his head on your shoulder. The two of you had managed to get through the day with occasional hand holding and cuddling, and you don’t think his family had suspected that the two of you were faking. It was quite easy, especially since the two of you already had quite a flirty friendship.

“Well, it was pretty easy. You’re the best fake boyfriend I’ve had” You joked, running your hands through his hair. “If only I could find someone like you for real” You sighed.

“Well you have the real me” Nate replied, lifting his head from your shoulder and looking at you.

“Yeah” You laughed, “but I mean as more than friends.”

“I know, but I’m saying maybe you can have that” Nate shrugged.

“Nate, what are you saying” You shook your head, a confused look on your face.

“There is a reason that pretending to be your boyfriend today was so easy. Maybe I wasn’t really pretending. I’ve always sort of thought as you as more than a friend but I never wanted to say anything and risk ruining our friendship” Nate started to explain, cupping his hands on your face. “But today made me realised how great we would be together and how well you fit into my life. I’m saying I want to be with you. As more than friends.”

“Nate” You whispered, “I um.”

“It’s okay, if you don’t feel the same we’ll forget I ever said anything and go back to just being friends” Nate stammered, removing his hands from your face and looking away,

“Maybe I don’t want to forget” You smiled, grabbing Nate’s hand in yours.

“You uh- what” Nate quickly turned around to look at you.

“I want to be with you too” You said, leaning in towards him, “as more than friends.”

A huge smile spread across Nate’s face as he heard what you were saying. “Can I kiss you” He quietly asked as he moved closer to you. But instead of answering you leaned in and gently placed your lips on his. The two of you remained there for a couple of minutes until you slowly pulled away. You jumped up from where you were sitting and turned to face Nate.

“Now, how about we go get some dinner” You offered, reaching out your hand for Nate to take.

“That sounds perfect” Nate answered, taking your hand and following you.

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neverendingstories00 · 4 years

Text

Past The Point Of No Return (Ch.5)

Summary: After the kiss, tensions are rising between you and Safin. While on a shopping trip, you try to make an escape but fail. Upon hearing this, Safin is not pleased with your behavior.

Word Count: 4.2K

Warnings: Smut (fades to black)

A/N: This chappie is a...roller coaster. Were half way throguh this fic already 😳 I was blasting Lana Del Rey while writing this and she really inspired the story. Here’s my spotify playlist for this fic. I love reading your comments btw, they make my day! Just wanna warn that this is my first time writing smut (that I have published), so forgive me if it sucks. I really hope you guys enjoy this! 😌

You waked up to the sounds of the waves crashing onto the shore. You rub the sleep off your eyes as your body refused to move out of its comfortable pose. Looking at the clock, it read ten o’clock. You hated sleeping in so late. Rolling out of bed, you push your hair back to go use the bathroom. The bags under your eyes had been fading away. Instead of feeling on edgy, you felt calm. You were Safin’s prisoner, but he spoiled you with expensive weekend trips and jewelry that cost more than your life on the black market.

After cleaning yourself up, you walked out of the bathroom and noticed a pair of clothes on a wooden loveseat. It was a pair of high-waisted khaki shorts, a light blue collared buttondown, and nude Venetian mules. You didn’t have many clothes to bring, so you assumed Safin had made you an outfit to wear. It wasn’t as exotic or revealing as your dinner outfit.

As you dressed, you could still imagine Safin’s hands all over you. He was so hungry and possessive of you. The way his calloused hands squeezed your back and traveled down your thighs made you shudder. You would never admit it to anyone, but you secretly savored the attention. Nobody had ever kissed you like that, let alone treat you in such a way. Safin made you feel all kinds of emotions you had bottled up over the years. Your hand traveled to your neck to see a red spot on your collarbone. It was pink and red mixed together. You dind’t remember Safin’s kiss that well since your eyes were closed as Safin overtook your body. Sighing, your disappointed with yourself. You couldn’t fall in love with the man who wanted to kill your friends and family if you didn’t fall in love with him. You finish buttoning your blouse and tuck it into your shorts, walking downstairs to the kitchen.

You walk out and feel the sun shine on your skin and the Medtaerrian breeze in your hair. It’s another beautiful day on the island. You see Safin sitting at a table, outlooking the beautiful sea. He sees you and turns, a smile on his face.

“Good morning, y/n. How did you sleep?”

Snappin out of your trace, your cheeks burn. There Safin is, the man who kissed and threatened you. Trying to act normal, you walk over and take a seat across from him.

“Well. How about yourself?”

“Wonderful, actually,” Safin responded in his silky voice. “It would have been much better if you were next to me though.”

Great. That’s all Safin needed to say to make you feel uncomfortable. Your cheeks burn as you look into the sea to conceal your face. “What a shame, Safin.Truly.”

“One day you will...I know of it.” Safin replied, a low growl in his voice. You rolled your eyes.

It was just one kiss, right?

As y/n finished her oatmeal, Safin looked up at her outfit. That woman could pull off any look, a scandalous dress or tomboyish island outfit. Your blouse had been unbuttoned slightly, showing the subtle sucking spot on your collerbone. Ah, how he longed to taste y/n’s skin again. She bit her red lips to conceal her pleasured moans. He had longed the touch of a woman. Even if y/n had kissed him, he still wasn’t satifesed. He wanted more, and he wanted y/n now.

Shifting in his sit, he rested his cheek in the calm of his hand. “Would you still like to go shopping?”

“Yes,” She answered. “I’d like to see the island...”

“Anything for you, my dear.”

Safin couldn’t tell if Y/n hated or loved the nicknames he gave her. But this was the first time he noticed her cheeks turn red as she rubbed her chin. Just being near her, sitting across from her, was making him aroused. At the dinner last night, Safin couldn’t control himself. He nearly had lost himself when he had asked y/n for a kiss, in which she sparingly agreed to. He could have had his way with her last night, but he couldn’t. As much as he wanted her, Safin wanted and needed to be loved by her. Y/n already thought of him as a monster. Even someone such as himself couldn’t force himself upon anyone.

Being around y/n was going to be Safin’s ultimate downfall.

-----

For a small island, the seaside town that inhabited it was full of luxurious stories. It reminded you of a Medterrian Bond street with high end stores such as Burberry and Louis Vuitton. It was overwhelming, so Safin guided you. It turned out Safin was filthy rich from his Spectre days. You should have realized that, considering that the man had resdegined a former Submarine Pen on a privately owned island.

You would have been fine with a normal shop with basic items that weren’t overpriced. But of course, Safin had decided to be extra and take you to the most expensive places in the town. You tried to tell him you were fine with any store, but he simply pulled you close and purred, “Only the best for my beautiful wife.”

Those words rung through your head. They pissed you off for sure. Safin knew how to get right under your skin, it was his job after all.

After a few hours of shopping, you were definitely feeling exhausted. You insisted that you had enough clothes, but Safin wanted to take you to every store he could. Safin made you hold his arm as you walked around the city. You should have hated being around him. But deep inside of, you enjoyed the attention. The attention that you knew no man was ever going to give you. Maybe he did truly love you and want someone to rule the world with. But it couldn’t be you. You two were polar opposites. He was an Anarchist, and you were a cyrptographer. You were supposed to enemies, not lovers.

Stopping in brought back thousands of memories. You and your mother use to shop there as a child, bringing back a dose of nostalgia. Moneypenny, your coworker, brought most of her wardrobe from the store. When you started out, a student fresh out of university, she had been kind enough to let you borrow some of her clothes when you didn’t have a lot of money. Even four years later, you still didn’t have the money to buy all of the clothes Safin had bought for you.

Safin decided to look around the store for himself, which let you have some time to try some outfits on. Safin had been extra enough to rent out the whole fucking store for you and him. The poor saleswoman who approached you looked like she was scared shitless. Had Safin done this before? Most likely, you thought.

Most of the clothes you picked were sweaters and trousers, but you decided to pick up a dress for a change. It was a white and black tweed dress that went an inch above your knee. Of course, the zipper on the back wouldn’t budge. You envied the way the double oh’s dressed, whether it be there lavish suits or designer thigh-high boots. Wearing the dress made you feel a little better about yourself, and less masculine.

There was a small knock on the door. You assumed it was the poor saleswoman who kept bringing your clothes. You felt horrible for her and tried to cut her some slack. Spinning on your heel, “Alexa, I’m ok-”

“It’s just me, actually,” A silky voice stated. It was none other than Safin. His eyes scaled her body, noticing the short dress and the how it hugged your thighs. His cock twitched in his pants among the sit, biting his lip. “You look...wow...”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” You huffed to look in the mirror. God, you felt like a secretary in the dress. It was far too fancy for someone such as yourself. Heck, you could barely even fit into it. Just as you were to fend Safin away, he calmly asked, “Do you want help with your dress? The back..”

Looking back at Safin, your confused at what he’s implying before you realize he’s asking to help zip us your dress. Your cheeks burn red, giving him a small nod before you looked away in utter embarrassment.

Safin didn’t disrespect your space and was gentle with you. You noticed his hands were shaky and sweaty. As Safin pulled the zipper up, you felt his breath twitch against your neck sending shivers down your spine. Once he finished, the two of you looked in the mirror in front of you. His greenish-blue orbs traveled down your body, a small smirk on his face. He pushed some of your hair back so he could see the dress better. “The dress shows off your body well, my beautiful wife. Shall I buy it for you?”

Instead of responding, you stand there looking in the mirror. Your feeling all types of emotions; anger, sadness, fear, everything. Being around Safin was so discordant. You wanted to love him, but you hated him more than anything in the world. Yet a man you hated was obsessed with you and even wanted to make you his bride no matter what.

Safin’s hands snaked on your hips before beginning to suck at your throat. He brought your body close to his hips, his kisses becoming more of a craving than a passion. That was your breaking point. Pushing him off, you turn around as tears prick at your eyes. You block out his pleas to come back and bolt right out of the door of the store, wanting to lose him. Your not thinking straight at the momment as you usher through the crowds of the streets to escape from Safin. All you wanted at the moment was to be alone with your thoughts and the monster that you were falling in love with.

After what seemed like minutes of speed walking, you end up on a peaceful street full of small stores and no tourists. The only noise is were the locals talking in Greek. You walk down the street, feeling emotional. The world was spinning as your vision blurred. Wiping your eyes, you feel a wet sensation form on your eyes. Why were you crying? You hated all of this and just wanted to go home. You wished that you had never found those damn codes and fallen into Safin’s cursed trap.

As you drag your feet across the stones, you turn your head to see an empty newsstand with newspapers and television. This was the first time in months you had seen the news. You always wondered what was happening in the world. All of it had been in Greek, but you could manage to read through a few words. America was failing with the pandemic, Anarchy was rampant in post soviet countries, and M16.

M16. M16. M16.

Upon seeing that name, you blink twice. There was no way. Your brain was freaking out. As you read the article, it had stated that London was under control with the protests thanks to the agents of M16. It had been reported that the anonymous leader, who now had a name Safin, tried to bring down M16 but had failed too. Mallory had left an interview, stating that no matter what they were going to find Safin and bring peace to Europe. A smile curved on your lips. There was hope. No longer would you sit around and wait to be saved. You were going to save yourself from Safin.

Unexpectedly, a hand grabs your wrist and yanks you. Turning over, your eyes meet with enraged blue ones. It was none other than Safin. A few pieces of his neatly gelled hair were now in his face. You had only seen Safin pissed off once before, and it hadn’t been a pretty sight. Safin began to pull you down the street and back to were he had parked his Black Landrover. You pulled back against him, but he simply put you into the car and began to drive with no words spoken.

You were certainly in a lot of shit.

-----

“Let go of me!” You chided, ripping your arm away from him. He had thrown you into your bedroom. Safin was beyond pissed that you had run away from him. He cursed at you the whole car ride, making all kinds of threats to your face.

“You foolish little girl,” He hissed, pushing his hair back as he walked paced the room. You watched him like a hawk, glancing at his every move. Safin was more pissed off than he had been last time. “You think you can leave?”

“I’m not your property! You treat me like I’m a child or some prize to be won.”

Safin walked back to you and badgered, “I do not! When I saved you, you were supposed to fall in love with me. Be mine and only mine. I took you from them and gave you a better life and opportunity, and what am I met with? An ungrateful little girl. I spoiled you, gave you a room, respected your space, gave you time, and yet you still hate me. All I wanted was for you to love me. I’m sick of waiting, I have been too good to you. You will be my dutiful wife, whether you like it or not.”

You snorted at his response. All Safin was doing was fueling your anger. “God, your so full of yourself! You sit on a pedestal and think of yourself was superior to everybody around you. Your like a spoiled little brat. When someone doesn’t follow your orders, all you do is throw a temper tantrum. You want me to be scared of you, but truly...I won’t ever be.”

Crawling off of the bed, you slowly walked towards him to get in his face. Your smiling, rubbing it into his face. “What are waiting for? Marry me. I don’t care. You’ve ruined my whole life. But let me warn you.”

“No matter what, I will never love you. I don’t care about how much you try or care. I would rather be married and wait for the day M16 takes you and your horrid men six feet under.”

Safin’s eyebrows are furrowed as he watched your every move. His eyes want to say something, but he can’t. He’s at a loss for words. He had hit a dead end. Out of all the women he had met, you were different. You were stubborn and usually told it how it was. Safin loved your mouth, but there was no denying you were a handful.

Safin’s response was his lips, smashing into yours. His hands wrapped around you, holding you close. You want to fight back and tell him to get off, but your body (unstable) wants a touch. It needs touch, not talk. Your hands cup his cheeks to steady your position. He walked backwards and pushed you onto the bed as his hands traveled up your skirt. His long fingers pulled the skirt until your underwear became exposed.

“Do you want this?” Safin panted, looking down at you. Seeing him on top of him, he’s truly a stunning man. His velvety voice was making you wet. Instead of sounding pissed off, he sounded calm and even caring.

“Shut up, please.” Your hand traveled to his cheek, gently patting it. “I-”

Two of his fingers enter your clitoris, causing you to bite your lip. It was a painful reaction at first, but than became pleasurable. You could no longer hide your pleasure and let out a small moan. “N-need it.”

“You are soaking, my love.” Safin purred. His pace was slow at first, but soon he picked up the pace. He loved hearing your moans and how your fingers dug into his back. “I’m surprised you hadn’t slept with any of the men at M16. Always turning them down, left and right. That is my good girl. I would have killed them anyways.”

Safin loves seeing your face and how beautiful you look with your flushed cheeks and lip biting. All he wanted was to that short dress of your body. He pulled his fingers slowly out of you, letting you take a small breather as he tried to undo his belt. Safin couldn’t seem to it until you intervened, unbuckling the buckle and throwing it right to the side. You wiggle out of the dress and throw it to the side, revealing that you weren’t wearing a bra. Safin notices this sight as his hands travel all over your body, feeling every piece of exposed skin.

“Love, your glowing.” He smileD, pulling his pants down. His whole body was exposed. It was covered in scars and wrinkles, but you thought he was dashing. Safin wasn’t a tall man, but he was very lean and well built for a sixty-year-old man. His cock was a decent size. You haven’t had sex in years, but it felt so good to not talk. All you wanted was to feel pleasure and nothing else. Moving your body up, you try to turn over but Safin grabs your shoulder.

“No, No, No. I want to see your pretty face.”

You shift up, placing your hands on his hips for a stern grip. Before starting, Safin placed a tender kiss on your lips. It wasn’t rough, but gentle. He started on your neck and began to move down, kissing your whole body like it was a temple. He muttered sweet things such as “you have such soft skin” or “your skin tastes so sweet”. The Anarchist sucked on your right breast to only hear the moans that turned him on. Your whole body felt like it was about to explode. For the first time in a while, you truly felt calm with not a worry in the world. Safin came back up to look at your face. His cock entered your body. It was an alien feeling, but you enjoyed his thrusts. Moans escaped your mouth as you wrapped a hand on his nape, caressing the unruly chocolate curls on his head. You looked into his multichromatic eyes as he fucked you, getting hungrier by the minute. All you feel is pure bliss in the arms of the Anarchist.

-----

Instead of feeling cold, you feel a warm sensation tingle through your body. Fluttering your eyes open, you see an orange and purple sky as the sun sets over the clear ocean. All you wanted to do was stay in this position for the rest of your life, warm and content. Everything was a blur in your mind. As you attempt to drift back to sleep, you feel a heavyweight on his hip. Tilting your head, you see it’s Safin with his nose in your hair, snoring. Your eyes widened, confused. Was it a dream? It had to be.

Grabbing the covers, you move them off of your body to reveal your naked forms. Safin’s hand was draped over your waist as he held your free hand in his sleep. A silent fuck escaped your mouth, looking down at the hand.

You had just fucked the world’s most infamous Anarchist.

Instead of overthinking as you usually did, you simply laid there in a state of stupor. Your thoughts could barely process anything at the moment. It all seemed like a nightmare, but it was real. All to real.

Moving Safin’s hand off of your body, you rolled out of bed and tiptoed to the balcony, grabbing the nearest shirt to protect yourself from the breeze. It wasn’t a dream. Safin was sleeping in the same bed with you, nude, holding you. This situation was far from normal. The shirt you had thrown on was Safin’s shirt that smelt of expensive perfume. All you had remembered was finding that M16 was still active and Safin dragging you back his car. You had fought on the way back tot he villa and he dragged you to your room, scolding you. He demanded to get married to you. At that point, you didn’t care. He was trying to break you, but there was no chance he was going to. Everything had become a blur. All you could remember was his lips crashing into yours before it all went dark.

Your feel your limbs go numb as your heart drops into your stomach. The man you had just had sex with was responsible for thousands of deaths and riots all across Europe. Yet here you were, getting spoiled and fucked by him as the world burned in your eyes. A hand covers your mouth to conceal a sob. Lukewarm tears stream down your cheeks. Your horrified with how low you had gone. You went from being kidnapped and refusing to love Safin, and you had just had sex with him.

Not counting the minutes, you simply stood, horrified with yourself. Safin was like a forbidden fruit, and his juice was now covered all over your body like blood at a crime scene. Everything was silent until a pair of footsteps followed behind you. You don’t even look because you already knew it was him.

“Over the years, I had my men bring me women.” He calmly said, acting like it was a casual occurrence. “All kinds, mainly young and scared. I talked to them and comforted them the best they could, but they always refused me. All of them thought that I was going to rape them since I looked like a monster, in which I was. I could have my way with them, but it was far too brutish to do such a thing.”

“Once I left Spectre, I felt like I had everything. But as the years went by, I became lonelier. I yearned not only for a woman’s touch, but someone to care and talk to. I thought I was too repulsive for anyone to find me attractive.” Safin turned to you, looking into your big [y/e/c] eyes. He grabbed your hands, holding them to his chest. “But when I saw you, my whole life changed.”

“I saw you and had to claim you as mine. Save you from all the pain. I never thought you would have come around to me, but you finally came to your senses. I knew you would since your my smart, good girl.”

You remained speechless as Safin pulled your into a hug. No emotion is going through your body. His arm held your lower back as his hands played with your [y/h/], twisting it in his fingers. “I’m so glad you made the right choice, sweet y/n.”

“But,” He whispered in your ear. “If you try and leave me, I will not give you a second warning. M16 may stand, but they will never find us. Even if they do, they know you are mine. You’re far better off working at my side and being my dutiful wife. But any attempted escapes or runaways, I will kill your friends and family to remind you of my love. Understood?”

Safin still held you close, wanting to make sure you had understood. Tears form at your eyes as you looked down, unable to face him in the eyes. His scared fingers lift your chin to look at your face. Seeing the tears, a small sigh escapes his lips as he wiped them away.

“Do not weep, my little dove.” He cooed, caressing your cheek. Your lips quivered, trying to keep it concealed. “I know it hasn’t been the easiest journey. But once we marry, we will look at this and laugh. We will be together...forever.”

“After all,” He planted a gentle kiss on your forehead before looking back at your face, a smile. “You are far past the point of the return now.”

Safin took your hand, leading you back into the bed. Once you get into bed, you feel Safin’s arm snake around your body, his nose his your hair once again. His leg’s topped onto yours, restraining you from moving. He smiled as he took a whiff of your floral hair, planting a small kiss on his neck before dozing back off.

You would have screamed or kicked, but you couldn’t. Not because you weren’t restrained, but because all of the fight that was left in you as gone. Before meeting Safin, your grip on reality was slowly declining. But the small piece you were hanging onto shattered. Now, you were a shell of the women you once were before. Knowing your family was alive and worrying about your safety made tears prick at your eyes. Safin, whether you liked it or not, was going to be your husband. To say that you hated or loved with was mind baffling. You couldn’t hate someone you had just had sex with. But you had to stay alive. For your family, for your friends, for M16, for yourself. Just because he was going to be your husband, didn’t mean you still didn’t despise him. The rumors with Safin were true. He always got what he wanted, when he wanted, no matter what.

Just because Safin had gotten what he wanted didn’t mean that you couldn’t change that.

#rami malek x reader #safin x reader #rami malek #safin #no time to die #james bond #my writing

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taking-over-his-life · 4 years

Text

The solicitor and the skinhead

It was 2am when I received a call from the local police station. They had arrested a guy for violent disturbance and he had requested a solicitor. I was on duty tonight and there was no way I could get out of it. ,”45mins” I said as I put the phone down. I didn't need the money but decided to do this as I got to meet some real rough bastards, the type I fantasized over. It was the only way I could make contact with this sort of guy.

One day I'd find one who would want to fuck me senseless. I got dressed, white shirt, red tie blue suit black shoes, and picked up my leather briefcase, then onto the garage. The Audi was waiting as I sunk into its leather seats. I thought about what sort of dim witted fucker I would meet and it made me hard. I resented these dumb socialist thugs. Never worked, no morals, little diction. I resented how their bodies had grown so strong, their attitude so belligerent while they contributed little to society, while I had worked hard through school and university to get where I was and those low lives just took.

They looked so hard so masculine everything I wanted, I just needed one who I could get into my bed and fuck senseless, and let him do the same to me rather than the hooray henries I usually picked up.

I got to the station and parked in the yard. I was so sexually charged, probably the spliff I had had earlier and the tiredness. I spoke to Andy on the front desk a hot Latin looking cop, damn I wish I was in his pants, but I have to keep up the pretense.I was signed in and briefed on the job I had to see. Malcolm was his name. He beat a young guy senseless as he shouted abuse at him. I looked at the address a block of council flats, typical scrounger I thought.

I was led into the interview room and again shown the panic alarm which was standard procedure. Ill be ok I said as I sat down opposite my client“Hello” I said, “my name is George Anstey”, I am the duty solicitor. He snarled at me, I looked at him and took in every aspect of his look persona and dress. He has the same height and build as me, He put his feet on the table, red 30 hole doctor martins, worn and dirty from wear. I looked at them, tight on his legs, so tight I could imagine his muscles through them and how they must smell.

I followed up his legs, white and blue bleachers, so tight on his thighs so muscular and that crotch, stuck up so high so packed, damn I was getting hard I was mesmerized when he said… “like what u see”? I was shocked and tried to speak but had to swallow to get a word out, “what do u mean” I said He took his feet off the table and I felt them rub against my legs under the table. It was like an electric shock I started to speak, as I sheepishly looked into his face. He was smirking. I saw his shaved head and face and his eyes peering at me. The ring in his nose glinted against the light and the swastika tat on his neck gave a strong message. “How can I help u” I said clearing my throat, he just looked at me, and rubbed his thigh against mine, I shivered he smiled an evil sadistic smile. “Got myself a bum boi have I” he said. I went red with embarrassment, “you like rough do u Mr. Solicitor” I did and by this time ii was hard and seeping “Get me out of here tonight and ill fuck, you raw to heaven, bum boi” he grunted.I questioned him at length and found a few procedural errors in the arrest.

After an hours discussion with the police they released him on bail.I waited round the corner from the station and saw him walking towards the car, he swayed like a gorilla his shoulders huge in the jacket.

I watched his legs in those tight bleachers as they caught the light. His huge crotch gently moving from side to side. I saw the light from the street lamp reflect off the rings in his ears and nose. His fists were clenched in tight black leather gloves as he moved closer and closer to the car. I opened the passenger door as he approached he didn”t seem surprised to see me.He looked at me and smiled, and instead of getting in the passenger side he pushed me over and jumped into the driver”s seat.I didn”t resist, I just let him. I knew it was a mistake but I was so horned up I was dripping into my silk boxers.“Nice car George boi, thanks for getting me out,” he said, he grabbed my crotch with his leathered hand and pressed; it was as if 50000 volts had gone through me.“Now lets pay the solicitor”, he looked at me and smiled, his nostrils enlarging showing the nose ring more clearly. I watched him as we drove, 4 rings in his left ear two on the top two at the bottom, ohhh what I would have given for piercings when I was young.I could see we were heading to his place into the worst council estate in the area he pulled over next to a block of flats and got out. As he did I saw his arse properly for the first time. Tight bleachers over two tight hard cheeks, fuck he was incredible.“Follow me georgie” he said as he walked in front of me to an entrance. It was filthy, litter all over, the stink of stale piss. I walked being him as we climbed the stairs, concentrating on his ass and legs, every muscle movement I saw I recorded, his red doctor martins moved with his legs and feet, the leather giving way to accommodate the muscle movements. The soles were worn, as was the stitching, I was just mesmerized by the time we reached the 4th floor. He turned around and looked at me. Smiling he said “you want this don”t you,”“ “want what” I said, “me” he replied, I said “very much,”We walked to the last door on the landing he fiddled with some keys and opened and iron gate which was over the door. In we went. I followed my stomach turning with excitement and my dick raging. When we got in he lit some candles. “No leckie” he said.We walked to a filthy kitchen. He got two beers passed one too me, “here” he said, “no I don”t” I said, suddenly he jumped towards me and pushed me against the wall. “I said fucking drink cunt” he said. I drank. The violence had my dick raging and he could see it. He rolled some spliffs and set them aside. “Now solicitor what do u want” he grunted. he grabbed me and started to kiss me, his tongue entering my mouth. “you like it rough eh”? He said. He lit the spliff and put it in my mouth. I didn”t care anymore and breathed it in. I coughed and then my head started to roll.He was all over me his hands in my shirt trousers, undressing me bit by bit. By the time he finished I was naked. He was there smelling my underpants pushed against his face, moaning with delight.I was totally naked, on the kitchen floor of a filthy council house, a solicitor out of my power clothing being controlled by a bigoted skinhead dumb fuck.

I had my hands on his doctor martins feeling the worn leather. He sat down lit a spliff and that was it. “lick them cunt” he said and pushed my head to his boots. I was in heaven as I licked and licked that red leather.We played all night I woke up He was standing there, sweaty and dirty from our night of sex. His tattooed body got me hard again as I watched him smelling my undies. He looked at me, climbed on the bed, got sitting on my chest his legs either side of me. “I want you to stay here for a while fucker,” he passed me my blackberry, “tell everyone your sick” he said, “what?” I said looking confused, “text them now. Your sick” he ordered, he grabbed my throat and positioned his ass over my dick, smiling at me, “your sick, OK”? I was as hard as iron, and texted work and friends. “Ok Mal” I said.He went to his stash and lit a spliff and made me smoke it all. I was floating. I saw him smell my undies and put them on, then my shirt, “what you doing” I said (Must be honest it was turning me on) “I need to go out boi, need to look right for the car, eh?” “you make a hot solicitor Mal” I said, “go back to wanking skin fucker”” he said to me. He dressed fully in my clothes, and looked good, checked my wallet and left. I lay there in this stinking bedroom, rubber sheet stained with piss and cum the smell was electric and I was horny as hell, the spliff making it betterI saw his stained yellow jock, I reached out to smell it pushing it against my face and nose, to get his smell all over my goatee. I wanted it to linger, then I stood up and put my legs through the holes and pulled it up so it covered my raging cock. I pushed it tight against my dick and balls so they would absorb his smell as I looked around there on the floor was his gear, I saw the bleachers and started to cum, on my own as I picked them up and started to step into them, the feeling was so intense, and I fell on the bed.My cum soaked into his jock, I started to pull the bleachers up over my ass and dick, and managed to zip them up and fasten the button, as my cock rose to full height.I looked down at my legs covered in his filthy gear, damn I felt so good. I picked up one of his cigs and put it to my mouth, I lit up. I didn”t smoke but this was so hot I felt so horny again and picked up his socks, they were grey with dirt and foot sweat, I smelled them again and again wanting the smell to be mine.I pulled one on my left foot it came to just below the knee then the right one. I could feel his stink entering my pours. Then the pista resistance. His doctor martins. Worn red 30 hole monsters, I picked up the left boot and spent 5 mins with my head and nose it enjoying the smell and my tongue licking and tasting the leatherOn it went my foot fitted perfectly. It took me ages to get the laces on, I was out of it, but the fitted so snuggly and tight. Then the right boot, I looked down, damn I was a fucking filthy worthless skin. I could feel and smell who he was, and I was him for a day. I picked up his Fred Perry vest and savored the smell of the pits It was soon on my body snug and tight. I stood up and found a mirror again without any assistance I shot a load in his jock. I found a beer and another smoke and enjoyed his last spliff, if I was to play him I needed to act like, and fuck was it hot.I dozed off, it must have been evening when he came back, dressed in my gear. I heard something but just enjoyed the enforced sleep. Suddenly I felt myself being lifted, “hey” I said. There he was a pierced dirty skin boi in my suit. I smiled“You look fucking hot as a skin boi” he said, “lets make it real,” he laid out some coke and gave me a straw, “enjoy “ he said, I took two lines

By this time my mind was floating I would do anything. I saw my reflection in the mirror, fuck I was a low life scum skin. I was so horny. “Sit here skin fucker” he said. I did suddenly I heard the sound of clippers and saw my hair falling to the ground, I put my hand up,” noooo” I said. Suddenly I felt a huge punch to my face and felt my nose break, ahhh I then blacked out.It was the next morning when I woke up, I felt something on top of me and realized it was him fucking my ass, the bleachers and skin gear was still on me and he was panting and sweating as he fucked me raw and senseless, my nose was in pain but the thought of him in me got me so hard he was shouting as he suddenly let rip into my guts, I came in his, no, my jock againHe got off me,” how did you like that fucker” he said, I looked up he was naked, tats down his arm back chest legs, fucking incredible. Strange I thought his hair was growing now. I got up and started to kiss him, my tongue deep on his mouth. As I did I caught a reflection in the mirror, two skins one in gear one naked. Fuck I realized that the one in gear was me. I was shaved, shaved head, face, damn I looked hot.He pulled me over to the kitchen fed me and gave me some e tablets. I took two. “Take one every six hours “he said.” Ill be back tonight.” I felt my legs and feet in the skin gear and rubbed my hands on my new shaved head, fucking hell, whats happening I thought. I looked in the mirror, who the hell was it, a thug, broken nose, shaved head, what was happening.He came out of the bedroom after getting changed. He was in my suit, in fact it was another suit of mine, where had he got it from. He walked up to me grabbed my crotch, stuck his tongue down my throat. “Now smoke these fucker” he handed me two spliffs, two e tablets and a pack of 20 ciggs.” Ill be back at 7 make sure u have had them all. It will be so hot tonight so fucking hot for you skin boi”. he looked into my eyes. “You like being a skin” he grunted, I rubbed my hands on my legs and chest, “fuck yeah Mal”, I said. “Lets make it real tonight fucker”. Think of yourself as me” “ Would you like to be me,”? “ wow”i said “you mean I could take your place” I responded, “yeah” he replied, “please “ I said not realizing what I was asking. I was still high.“Tonight fucker tonight” he said and left. I watched him from the balcony as he strutted in my suit to my car and drove off. I pulled out the cigs, sat on the ground with my dm feet on the railing and smoked two of the ciggs. They made me feel sick at first and then the euphoria kicked in. My mind was just racing at the idea of being a low life skin.I lay down on the rubber sheet of the bed and smelled the piss and cum, I was in heaven. I could smell my sweat mingling with his on MY skin gear, it was mine now, not changed in two days fucking hot. I wore his flight jacket and found his rings and gloves on they went along with the dog tags and thick metal chain around my neck.I stood in front of the mirror and just wanked for hours. I took the e tabs as instructed and the spliffs. I got though 18 ciggs before he got back. I could hear him and other voices along with things they were moving.I came out of the bedroom and saw two huge tattooed guys. “Hi Mal”, they said to me, I smiled and liked being addressed like that. They erected two chairs and some equipment.Mal was there again in my suit, he smiled, his hair was starting to really show on his head. “You shaved hour head today Mal ?” he said, “no sir”i said, “do it now while we set up” he said.He followed me to the bathroom. And gave me a razor and soap. He stood behind me his erect dick pushing at my ass through the cloth.“Take these, he gave me two tablets”, and some water,” swallow Mal “he said, “I like being called that” I said, getting on my knees to suck him, “later boi” he said. “Shave” he instructed I shaved, what an erotic experience. When he came out, the big buys introduced themselves, rod and jay. “Now heres whats going to happen” said Jay smoking a cigar. “I will copy his tats” pointing at Mal “onto your body. It will hurt a little. rod will remove them from Mal at the same time so its like a transfer”.“Tomorrow you will be an inked skin boi”he said smiling at me as he felt my crotch. “Ill start with some holes for you new piercings. what should I call u skin boi”? He said. I looked at Mal, “is it ok if I use your name”? I said “Yeah you be me skinboi”, he said. I looked at Jay, “I”m Mal,” I said and smiledIt seemed to last forever, the pain in my ears eyebrows dick nipples, and the sustained pricking on my neck chest arms back and legs. I was so out of it and watched Mal as he had them removed. I fell to sleep. When I woke up I was in bed, bandages where the tats had been transferred. Mal lying next to me in the same condition. I looked at him, “fuck what happened Mal”, he reached over, and squirmed as his back hurt, “I thought we agreed, who Mal was, you changed your mind skin” he said looking at me angrily, “no sorry” I said, “your George, I”m Mal”, “how u doing George” I said. “Ok Mal” he replied. “Here take these” he said and handed two more tabs and I was out.I must have been out for days. I woke up and he was standing there naked, no tats, smoking a spliff and wanking over me. I kneeled and put my lips around his cock and sucked like never b4 it wasn”t long b4 he came buckets in my mouth, pulling my shaved head to his groin. “You like that Mal. Like your solicitors cum, eh”? He said. “fuck yeah sir”, I said in his voice. “Come here” he ordered. He stood me in front of the mirror and removed the bandages from me. We were both stark naked. He revealed my tatts celtic on my legs and chest, wings on my back, my dick responded and was so hard I came without touching it all over the mirror as I looked at the new me“Lets finish this off skinboi” he said. he went to the kitchen. I just looked at the new me, thinner, shaved inked fuck I really was Mal now no one would know the difference, he came back with a bowl and some disinfectant “lets complete this” he said. He pulled out the huge pa from his dick and soaked it in the bowl of disinfectant. “lets see how it looks on you Mal” he said. My dick was erect again, as I wanted it so much. He got the pa and with difficulty pushed it through the hole the tattoo guys had made. He slapped my dick “horny cunt” he said. I looked down and saw his, no my pa I my skin dick, “fucking hell” I said, “is this real?” “Give me them all I want to fucking be you in everyway Mal” I shouted, desperate for every last piece of the real Mal.He took them out of his nips and put them on mine, then his ears, eyebrows, and eventually the heavy thick ring from his nose. “this makes you a skin pig boi Mal” he said, I was just mesmerized at how I looked and felt, I just gazed and gazed at my new reflection. He lit a spliff.” Here” he said. I smoked got high, and laid on my back as he fucked me raw. We were looking at each other as we changed identities.

After an hour of sex, he stood up and went to get cleaned up. I picked up my filthy skin gear and dressed. Maybe I could go out today as Mal I thought, who would know .He came in suited and booted. “Got go get back to my place today Mal” he said. “Here”s the keys to your council flat enjoy” he smiled.” Heres a few quid to get u by”.”Your m8s will be hear at 8 tonight for a skin fuck fest enjoy, you skin scum” he saidI looked in the mirror at a fucking shaved skin scum, Nazi symbol on me neck bleachers doctor martins Fred Perry a fucking dream, pig ring in me broken nose, rings on me fingers thick silver chain round me neck. My crotch was fucking huge as me huge dick stood to attention. I moved around seeing how masculine and thuggish I was.I pulled out the ciggs and went outside onto the landing and looked over at the estate. A neighbor came out a chav guy, he looked at me. “Aint seen u around for a bit Mal” he said. He thought I was Mal, in fact I fucking was, “been fucking busy m8, outa me head” I said. “He sidled up to me”, I offered him a cig as we chatted about nothing in particular. He rubbed his leg against mine. I looked at him, “you want to fuck cunt?” “Fuck yeah” he said. Within minutes we were inside his place fucking like rabbits. Me inside him, him in me, leaving our cum inside each others guts.I finished went outside and smoked two ciggs. time for a walk I thought. I locked me flat, my flat, I thought and headed down the stairs.

Filthy dump I though. I was greeted by a couple of skins and we chatted. Real fucking rough m8s I thought. Women moved outa me way as I came past. I was shocked when I passed the local shops to see me reflection, it was just like the time I saw Mal as he approached my car, my car, what was I thinking, I was Mal now.

#bodyswap #body switch #male body swap

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pressedinthepages · 3 years

Text

Family Business

Chapter 3: Date Night

A/N: Whoops, our hands slipped. Myself and Margaret (@sometimesiwrite) have completed another chapter about these two silly boys! In this episode, Eskel sees a new side to Julian, and they finally are able to go on their first real date. But will all go as planned? Only time will tell.

also, I, Erica, will not apologize for making Lambert extra sexy.

Warnings: discussion of past death of a loved one, super soft flirting, loss, mourning, brief mention of religious-based homophobia, slightly NSFW texting (nothing explicit), unnamed character being an ass to a hostess, maybe...another k*ss?

Previous chapter: Here! Erica’s Masterlist: Here! Margot’s Masterlist: Here!

ENJOY!

Eskel’s phone vibrated in his pocket as he passed a latte to the last customer of the breakfast rush. It was 10:24. Perfect. Plenty of time to clean up, check the espresso, and… take a look at the notification he knew was waiting for him on his lock screen. He checked around as he rinsed the cloth for the steaming wand and wiped the countertops. Geralt was sipping away at a glass of ginger-apple-kale juice (typical), and Lambert was busy cleaning off the panini press, apparently hellbent on breathing in as much of the cheesy bread fumes as possible (he always did love the smell of a grill top). No new customers. All clear. Eskel pulled out his phone and saw a text notification—Julian.

Still up for helping out? I am...stressing.

Eskel smiled at his phone screen and thumbed in his passcode. I’ll see what I can do, but as you know, Lambert had to dress me yesterday so… you have fair warning.

Three little dots floated on the screen. Julian was typing. Eskel glanced around to make sure no one was waiting for help and that Lambert was minding his fucking business.

Ok, option one:

And then, an actual photograph of Julian sitting in front of his mirror wearing a tastefully loud dress shirt—black with white vines and flowers. As Eskel examined the photo more closely, he realized that the young man was also wearing a… a well-fitting pair of dark boxer briefs. Thankfully, the hand not holding the phone was resting in his lap and obscuring anything salacious. Eskel blushed bright red and immediately lowered his phone. He breathed out slowly. Okay. Okay! This is… this is okay. This is a normal adult thing to do. Eskel’s mouth was very dry as his phone pinged again. There was no reason to be feeling embarrassed or… Then again, maybe he hadn’t meant anything by it. After all, Julian was younger, less inhibited, had fewer hangups about modesty. And even if he did mean to be an absolute scoundrel, this was… healthy. Yeah. Healthy. Eskel arrived at the conclusion that, at the very least, Julian trusted him, and he clung to that as he opened his phone back up, desperately wishing he wasn’t at work.

And option two:

Now Julian had on a pair of pants, thank Christ. But Eskel couldn’t help but laugh. They were bright red corduroy bell-bottoms and potentially the most atrocious things he’d ever laid eyes on, even with his self-reported lack of fashion sense. Julian was also sporting a navy vest. But this was no ordinary, everyday, run-of-the-mill kind of vest: it was decorated with large jewel-tone flowers emulating stained glass, and covered so much of the base colour it was barely visible. What was perfectly visible was Julian’s bare torso underneath. Arms, shoulders, and the top of his chest were on full display, while a coquettish tilt of his head gracefully extended his neck. Jesus. Eskel could just make out the crease and dimple of a grin on the side of Julian’s face in the mirror as he turned his head away. You cheeky little bastard.

Eskel’s fingers hovered over the keypad for a moment before settling on a reply. He didn’t want to encourage him too much and risk an… awkward situation at work. On the other hand, he still deserved a little credit for boldness. Well, those are two very different options Julian.

Julian’s reply was almost instant. I CAN HEAR YOUR JUDGEMENT FROM HERE.

Eskel chuckled, Only of your fashion choices, I assure you ;)

Meanwhile, across town, Julian gaped at his phone in amused surprise. He...that bastard winked at me...good. Julian looked over the piles of sequins, florals, polyester, and lycra he’d stripped out of his closet, feeling quite pleased with himself. His eyes tracked to the one chair in his bedroom on which he’d carefully draped his already-ironed outfit for that evening. (Oh come on, give me some credit. I’m not completely helpless. I know how to dress for a date).

Julian shucked off the pants, a favorite, and let the vest fall to the floor. He carefully pulled out a pair of bright, sparkly golden boots and zipped them up to his knees before striding back to the mirror. He snapped a quick picture, cropping it to show just enough and still be considerate of the recipient. His phone shwooped it back to Eskel, and Julian worried his bottom lip while he waited for a reply. Had it been too much?

Eskel’s phone buzzed in his pocket as he handed a coffee and a muffin to a customer. He reticently reached into his pocket. How far was he going to take this? His heart beat a little faster as he opened his phone to reveal the photo. “Yup okay, that’s…” He closed his phone and leaned heavily on the counter, exhaling a little too intentionally.

“Mouth a little dry?” Geralt was beside him holding a glass of water with a slice of cucumber happily floating inside.

“I—what? No, I’m…”

“Texting with the Boy? Just drink the damn water and try to keep it cool.”

“Yeah, that’s great advice, Geralt, thank you.” He drained the water in a few gulps and heavily set the glass back on the steel counter, “Jesus.”

Geralt said nothing, but took the glass away, giving his brother an encouraging pat on the back. His amused laughter was audible, though, as he grabbed his iPad for inventory.

Eskel took a deep breath and opened his phone again: Perfect. You’ll fit right in.

Eskel sighed as the bell on the door chimed three times in quick succession, a line already forming as his new customers looked over the cold case. Right on time. His phone vibrated once more in his pocket while he started taking orders, and he stepped over to the espresso machine as Lambert took over the register.

***

Julian ran his hand through his hair, letting it flop artfully back down as he gave himself one last once-over. He had on a dark pair of jeans which he’d rolled up just high enough to show a peek of his bright fuschia socks, which somehow didn’t class with his red Doc Marten brogues. The shirt he’d actually chosen to wear was navy blue with red, fuschia, and turquoise plaid accents on the inside of the cuffs and collar, pearlescent buttons glinting down the front. He’d arranged his sleeves carefully for an optimal pop of colour, and he’d left just enough buttons open to be both casual and flattering—showing off a hint of chest hair and clavicle—while still being subtle.

Julian’s phone let out a muffled ding from...somewhere in the room. “Shit, where’d I put my…” He hadn’t heard back from Eskel all afternoon. He probably got busy, he told himself, but a part of him still couldn’t help but worry he’d pushed too far too soon. In his joyful impulsiveness, he’d lost track of the fact that they hadn’t really talked about anything—boundaries, preferences, that kind of thing. It made sense that they hadn’t, they’d only just had their first date (kind of). But after the fiasco of the previous night, he’d wanted Eskel to feel wanted, appreciated.

He eventually did find his phone, tucked just barely under the edge of his bed after a somewhat frantic shaky-handed scramble. How it ended up there, he’d never know. A text from Eskel blinked at him from the screen and Julian’s lips turned up in a soft smile as he unlocked his phone with a cold thumb.

Sorry for the late reply, had a bit of a busy day. Just finishing getting ready, can’t wait to see you :)

Julian held his phone to his chest and sighed, happy and relieved, turning to the mirror propped up against his closet door. “Okay, Jules. You can do this. He likes you. He kissed you. He was flirting with you this morning, and you did not scare him off. It’s just dinner. Everything’s gonna be great. It’s gonna be lovely food, and...wait, where are we going again?”

Right on time, his phone dinged again. Here’s the address for the restaurant. Should be about a fifteen minute walk from your place.

Great, thanks. See you soon :) Julian looked at his watch. Shit. “Okay. Time to go.” He paused with his hand on his doorknob, “Uhh, phone, wallet, keys… do I need a jacket? What temperature is it?” It was an awkward temperature. Jacket would be too warm. No jacket would be too cold. “Oh my God, fine, I’ll carry it.” With that, he locked the door behind him and clattered his way down the musty, worn stairs of his walkup and out onto the sidewalk.

Eskel nervously loosened his tie a little, not wanting to look too rigid, and adjusted his sleeves. “Okay. Okay, okay, okay. It’s just dinner. He likes you… Jesus, he better like me after all that.” He gave his hair a final mist of salt spray (he may have been out of touch with fashion, but the one thing he would always pride himself on was his hair). His mind wandered back to their kiss the previous night and felt a thrill tingle through him. It had been so unexpected and so… was heartfelt the right word? It had been passionate, but not just in a sexy way—though it had been that, too. Eskel was discovering that Julian was proving himself capable of a great amount of emotional depth as well as unbelievable cheek, and he was genuinely looking forward to seeing him again.

He glanced at his watch. Here’s the address for the restaurant. Should be about fifteen minutes from your place, he typed hastily, wanting to give Julian a grace period in case he really was struggling to figure out what to wear—though Eskel had strong suspicions that he already knew full well what he was planning on wearing and that the morning’s texts had been for his sake alone.

Eskel carefully pulled the tan jacket over his shoulders and peered around his living room in case he’d forgotten anything. His eyes landed on the framed photo above the fireplace. He took a tentative step forward, “Hey, Jo. You’re still lookin’ real good, you know that?” He took a few steps closer, and modeled his outfit. “Not bad, right? I’m, uh, listen, I’m going on a date tonight. I’ve met someone.”

He leaned against the mantle, hands resting on either side of the recently-dusted frame, a melancholy settling over him as he looked at the familiar face. He shok himself out of it, “I think you’d like him. A lot, actually. He’s, well he’s a lot of things, but he’s…he cares. And I think he could make me happy if I play my cards right.” He smiled, “Thought you’d want to know.” He glanced at his watch, “Alright. Wish me luck.”

He gave a loving wink to the photograph and turned to the door, feeling for his keys in his pocket before letting it lock behind him.

The breeze blew gently through his hair as he waited for Julian outside the restaurant, going over the list of Fun Things To Ask On A First Date in an article he had pulled up on his phone. It was a cool evening, but it was clear that winter had more or less had its last laugh: the crocuses were starting to come up in the planters on the sidewalk, and the air had that sweet smell that only came with warmer weather. A beam of sunshine illuminated the sidewalk and passersby as Eskel kept an eye out for his date. He wasn’t waiting long, though, and smiled wide as he caught a glimpse of well-coiffed chestnut hair and a flash of bright blue coming towards him.

Eskel greeted him with a kiss on each cheek, but he was quickly pulled into a firm hug. Julian pulled back so his blue eyes could give Eskel a proper once-over.“You look unbearably handsome, Eskel, how dare you.”

“Julian, you look very nice. Can’t help but notice you’ve worn, let’s see, none of the options you tormented me with this morning.”

“Are you disappointed?” Julian asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Nope,” Eskel replied simply, opening the door and letting his date enter first.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” Julian cooed as he brushed past catching a whiff of mellow cologne—smokey and sweet with hints of cedar and maple. They were greeted by a young woman at the host stand who smiled gently at the two of them.

“Hey, Jess” Eskel smiled in return, carefully placing his hand at the small of Julian’s back.

“Eskel! It’s been a while since you’ve stopped in, I guess the cafe’s keeping you three pretty busy. I’m so glad it’s doing well!” Julian glanced back and forth between the two of them as the gears finally clicked into place. Jess led them to their table, tucked away in a private corner, and Julian slunk into the booth as she walked away.

“You didn’t tell me that this was your dad’s restaurant!?!?!” Julian hissed lightheartedly.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want you to think my whole family would be watching us,” Eskel cheeked as he filled Julian’s water glass from the carafe on the table, and was met with a quizzical look. “In all honesty, it’s one of the few places I can always get a table on short notice this late in the week. Besides, it’s comfortable.”

A few more gears clicked. Of course. This was a public place where he not only knew the staff, but also knew the space like it was his home: he’d worked the bar, served guests, hosted… He felt a sense of ownership and belonging. It didn’t matter whether people stared and whispered, because he knew the placement of every single piece of glassware and cutlery, and they didn’t. The restaurant itself was like family to him.

Julian nodded understandingly, and grinned as their server approached the table. He was tall, with honeyed skin and dark wavy hair, startlingly green eyes, and an impeccably-groomed goatee. “Hello there, can I interest either of you in any drinks to start off?”

They each ordered a glass of red wine and Eskel sat back, quietly observing his companion. Julian’s sea-blue eyes were flicking back and forth over the menu before him, his brow furrowed at the sheer number of different options, some of which contained ingredients printed in Italian.

“Can I make a recommendation?” Eskel cocked his head with a smirk.

Julian pursed his lips for a moment, glancing up at his date before gluing his eyes back to the menu. “Yes. I am terribly out of my depth.”

“I said the same thing to Lambert last night. Listen, why don’t I order for us, and we can both relax a little?”

Julian’s eyes swept over the menu one last time, “Please, God, yes.”

“Anything you don’t like, aside from spicy?” Eskel asked, taking Julian’s menu from his helpless hands.

“Not a huge fan of alfredos.”

“Well, that’s fine, we’re both drinking red and that doesn’t pair with cream sauce, I wouldn’t allow it, anyway,” he answered back. It was an offhanded comment, but Julian caught the radiant heat off Eskel’s flare of confidence as the restaurateur casually glanced over the menu. This was a different Eskel, completely in his element with absolutely no doubt in his mind that he was correct about every decision he was about to make. Julian wanted to jump across the booth and pick up where they’d left off the night before. Instead, he sipped his wine, savouring the palette as it tingled the back of his throat and warmed his stomach.

“You’re very sexy when you talk about wine pairings.”

Julian watched a pretty pink flush spill up Eskel’s chest and neck, just barely tinging his cheeks. Their server had impeccable timing, choosing that exact moment to make a beeline to their table. “And how are we doing over here? Ready to order?”

He may have been briefly flustered by Julian’s comment, but Eskel’s tone immediately shifted into that of a professional in his home environment, “We’ll start with the carpaccio with the truffle oil, please, and then I’ll have the penne calabrese, and he’ll do the spaghetti carbonara. And could we get a bread basket before the starter, please?”

“Of course. All delicious choices, I’ll get everything started for you.” Their server left them once again, and Eskel felt Julian’s fingers brush over the back of his hand.

“I don’t know how to explain this,” Julian murmured, barely loud enough for Eskel to hear, “but that was incredibly attractive.”

“What, ordering food?” Eskel laughed but didn’t move his hand away. Instead he let himself relax into Julian’s touch.

“Well, yes, but there was more to it.” The musician’s slender fingers gracefully coasted over the landscape of knuckles and veins—accentuated by years of pouring neatly from full bottles and carafes, and carrying water glasses and full plates. “It was your demeanour; the way you held yourself, looked out of your eyes, it all shifted a little. It was subtle, but it’s… sexy.”

Eskel smirked and leaned back in his seat, letting Julian’s fingers lazily fiddle with his, “Really?”

“Yes, really. It’s—you’re confident and in your element. You’re highly skilled.” Julian paused for a moment, scanning this new Eskel in his natural habitat, “You could take over and serve this entire restaurant if you needed to. Couldn’t you?”

“Easily,” Eskel answered, his brow set in easy certainty. His expression quickly softened into an easier smile, and he gave his date a little wink. “But don’t tell the—”

“So sorry to interrupt,” their server had glided his way over to the table with surprising stealth, “but the chef was wondering if he could have a word with you, Eskel.”

Eskel sighed, clearly having wanted to avoid playing Backup Owner for the night, “What, about the order? Or is it something else?”

Their server shook his head, his dark locks shaking over his forehead, “He wouldn’t say, just asked me to bring you back to him for a moment.”

Eskel deflated, looking conflictedly back to Julian. It was part of his life, being in the restaurant business meant being on-call almost any time during business hours for any number of things. Still, if this date was going anywhere meaningful, he didn’t want to start their entire relationship by abandoning him to tend to a work crisis. Julian reluctantly let his fingers drift away from Eskel’s hand, “Go on, I’ll be fine here, it sounds important. Just don’t get roped into working in the kitchen?”

“I may be a workaholic, but I’ve never once abandoned a date at the table. Back in a sec.” Eskel heaved himself out of the booth and followed the waiter around the dining room and through the doors to the kitchen, fully ready to step into his Owner’s Son Who Used To Work Here shoes.

However, it wasn’t the head chef waiting for him. It was… the owner’s son who used to work there.

“Hey! How’s it going out there?”

“Lambert. What are you doing here?”

“Well, you never let me wear my chef’s coat at the cafe, so-”

“Sorry, let me try again: what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Okay, okay, fine, I’m here to spy on your date. Happy?”

“Of course not!”

“You’re both looking good tonight. I mean his shirt? Bold, makes a statement, mature-yet-playful—although I have some questions about his taste in footwear. But hey-hey-hey, is he holding your hand? It looks like it, but I can’t see the wall side of the booth from the pass—”

“Lambert…” Eskel could have sworn he felt his hair actually bristling, “I cannot fucking believe you—that you would have the-the the audacity to think it would be appropriate to just—I mean, on a Thursday. How many people’s schedules did you have to mess up in order to work tonight?! Do you even remember how to be back here?”

“Please, I’m a professional. Like riding a bike.”

A metal spoon fell to the floor with a loud clatter and Eskel took a long, deep breath, “Listen, we’ll talk about this later—and believe me, we will talk about this later—but right now I have a very handsome, very thoughtful, very patient date (who does, in fact, have very soft hands), waiting for me in the dining room.”

“Okay, okay, go, I’ll text you later. But hey, hey, listen: you’re doing great, big guy. Really great. Love the menu for tonight. And the wine pairing? Ballsy to order the wine first but, damn, when you know, you know.”

“Thanks, Bert.”

“Go get ‘im, tiger!”

“Unbelievable,” Eskel muttered as he went towards the kitchen door. “Corner!”

Eskel strode back to their table, and found Julian looking intently at something in front of him, chewing on a slice of bread from the basket that now sat on the edge of the table. As Eskel got closer, he saw it was a phone, and immediately felt the lack of weight in his own pocket.

As if sensing him, Julian looked up, his eyes sparkling under the comfortable lighting in the booth. “W-pray tell, my chivalrous date,” he murmured as Eskel came to a hesitant stop at the edge of their seats, “why do you have a list of Fun Things To Ask On A Date?”

Eskel slowly, carefully slid into his seat across from Julian, feeling the tips of his ears starting to burn. “I-uh...found the article earlier...a-and, well, like you, I was feeling a little nervous... here, you know what, we can just forget you ever saw tha-”

He reached for his phone, but it was quickly held out of reach, “Oh, nononononono, we are so doing this,” Julian smiled wickedly, his chestnut hair flopping as his head bobbed with glee. Eskel dragged his hands up his cheeks and rubbed his eyes dejectedly, glancing around to see if any of their fellow restaurant goers could help free him from the private hell that was going to be the next twenty minutes.

“Question One: What’s one thing you want to ask me but you’re too nervous to?’ Ooooh starting dramatically,” Julian twinkled his fingers for punctuation.

“Oh God, do we really have to—”

“Oh yes. We do. Come on,” Julian waved him on in encouragement, “no wrong answers, I promise. Only a bit of fun.”

Eskel groaned, leaned back in his seat, and folded his hands in his lap. “Alright, fine. How old are you?”

“Twenty-six,” Julian answered without hesitation. “How old are you?”

Eskel grimaced, “Forty-two.”

“And yet you don’t look a day over thirty.”

“Hey, I work in customer service, I know a placation when I see it,” Eskel smirked playfully. “Let’s—can we move on to the next one?”

Julian grinned sympathetically, turning back to the screen. “Question 2: zodiac sign?”

“Hmm, late February, that’s Pisces, right?”

Julian smiled and nodded, “Indeed. I’m a Taurus. Stubborn-yet-endearing, thank you very much.”

“I don’t know all that much about star signs. What does all this mean?”

“Well, it means we’re compatible, in theory. Pisces are generally loyal, empathetic, intuitive, private… Taurus tends to be stubborn, patient—can be a little possessive, but I’m working on that. According to one horoscope, I apparently ‘dislike synthetic fabrics’ which is patently false as previously demonstrated by the contents of my closet.”

“Yes, and thank you for that, by the way. It was worth almost having a heart attack at work.”

Julian winked as he scrolled along down the list. “Glad you enjoyed that, because I know I certainly did. Now, what’s your lOvE lAnGuAgE?”

Eskel frowned, “What’s a ‘love language?’”

“Oh, it’s how you show and accept love. Here,” he opened the quiz on a new tab, “You can do it while I’m in the restroom.”

Eskel gratefully accepted his phone back and watched Julian meander his way to the men’s room. He breezed through the quiz questions, thinking he may as well be with his niece at a slumber party and wondering whether they were going to be playing Never Have I Ever next.

“Physical Touch, apparently,” he answered, pocketing his phone as Julian slid back into the booth.

“Well, we’re proving very compatible this evening. I’m the same. With some gifting thrown in from time to time. Where’d you put the phone?”

“You mean my phone? In my pocket.”

“Well, give it, I want to keep asking you questions!”

Eskel leaned his elbow on the table, resting his chin in his hand, “No, I don’t think I will. Later. I want us to enjoy ourselves. Actually enjoy ourselves. And the carpaccio will be up soon.” As irritated as he was with his younger brother having commandeered the kitchen, he was looking forward to the promise of an impeccable dinner. He was feeling more relaxed now, largely thanks to the joyful enthusiasm of his date, but he didn’t want to rely solely on the dubious contents of a Cosmo quiz to make a meaningful connection. Julian let himself get lost in the freckled honey-nut-hazel and the secret sadness tucked behind them. Eskel, too, took the opportunity to look, really look, at Julian’s almost-too-blue and the subtle edge hiding amongst the kindness and charisma. And so they just...looked at each other for a moment. No pretense, no joking. Taking each other in.

Julian startled at the sudden sensation, but smiled as he realized Eskel had taken his hand. He’d broken their eye contact to make sure he didn’t knock anything over in the process, but now that he’d found his bearings, the cafe owner looked back across the table to his date, “You know, I… want this to work.”

The young musician’s eyes grew big and his cheeks flushed hot with the sudden outpouring of sincerity. He already cared about Eskel more than he thought he should after so short a time, and it was both a shock and a relief to know that Eskel might be experiencing the same thing. “W—I—”

“I know that it’s early. And I know there’s a lot we still don’t know about each other. And a lot that we’ll need to figure out, and maybe we won’t be what the other needs and that’s fine. We can always go our separate ways. But I want you to know that I’m… taking this seriously.”

Julian tried to put words together, but was cut off by the re-return of their overly-handsome waiter. A large plate of thinly-sliced raw beef tenderloin was presented, prompting an abrupt release of their hands. Eskel thanked the waiter, and Julian’s stomach rumbled as he scrambled a bit to close the gap in their conversation. But what could he say to that?

He intercepted Eskel’s hand on its way to a slice of bread, “Thank you. Really. I’m taking this seriously, too. I mean that.”

Eskel gave a small sideways smile, “Let’s eat.”

Julian carefully took a portion of the carpaccio, set it on his own little plate and took a bite, and oh god the most delightfully combination of flavours and textures met his tongue. They ate contentedly, not sharing many words, but also finding it hard to look away from each other. What an excellent evening. The food was exceptional, the wine was warm and bold—hell, the whole week had been so pleasantly unexpected that they both settled into a kind of trance.

After a few minutes and with not much appetizer left, Eskel topped off their water glasses. “Alright then, my turn,” he said, dusting his hands free of bread crumbs and wiping his mouth on his napkin.

Julian blinked and swallowed abruptly. “For…?”

“Picking the questions,” Eskel pulled his phone back out and kept it well within his grasp. “Come on, there are actually some good ones in here, believe it or not.”

Julian nodded and shrugged, “Ask away.”

Eskel cleared his throat as he scrolled through the list, finally settling on his three questions. He learned that Julian worked days at an artisanal candy shop in town where he was in charge of making marshmallow animals, which he clearly enjoyed as well as having the skill and patience to do. The next question revealed that Julian had an irrational hatred of polenta, and Eskel despised parsnip, citing that they “taste like carrots wearing perfume.” The final question turned the conversation to their childhoods which proved a little more serious. Julian, it turned out, had grown up in a small, predominantly Christian town. Needless to say, his well-meaning, churchgoing parents had had a difficult time adjusting to the fact that their one and only precious little angel was, in fact, undeniably homosexual.

Eskel’s phone found its place in his pocket once more while he collected his thoughts. “I’m sorry if that brought up any—”

“No no, it’s fine! It’s a part of my life, it made me who I am now.” Julian gently set his now-empty plate aside.

“Do you, uhm, are you still in touch?”

“With my parents, you mean? Yes. We had a bit of a rocky start when I came out, but once I shipped off to university and they had some time to think a little, we started over. It’s—they try. They don’t always get it right, but they try.”

“Could be worse, I suppose. Still...”

“Family’s what we make. Sometimes we’re born with family, and sometimes we find it. Sometimes it’s a bit of both. We’ve all come a long way in the last few years.”

“That’s good to hear, I’m happy that they’re able to be supportive.”

Julian nodded, stroking his thumb over the back of Eskel’s knuckles. “Enough of my sob story, your turn. Best part of your childhood.”

“Well, once we got old enough that Lambert wasn’t ‘the baby’ anymore, we started running around causing havoc. Of course, I always tried to keep the peace, but my brothers are fucking maniacs. It’s not that I never got into any mischief myself, I was always just...better at not getting caught. I don’t think that either of them know the definition of the word ‘subtle.’”

“No, not from what I’ve gathered,” Julian smirked as he cast a quick glance at the kitchen doors. Eskel followed his gaze and caught a hint of Lambert’s hair ducking out of view and he shook his head.

“Truly? He is the bane of my existence. I love him to death, but he may end up in the fucking wall tonight,” Eskel sighed, rubbing his weary face as Julian laughed brightly.

Their server came around with their main course, and refilled their wine glasses before leaving them to their dinner. “Now, I know it’s tempting to eat the whole thing,” Eskel began as he dusted fresh parmesan onto their plates from the little bowl between them, “but we do still have dessert. My advice: don’t be a hero. We can bring home leftovers.”

“You’re going to kill me with all of this,” Julian sighed as he spun his fork in the fresh spaghetti before slurping it up. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he tried hard not to make undignified noises at the dinner table. Eskel chuckled joyfully and ripped a slice of bread in half, dipping into some of the sauce. Julian thought if Eskel committed to their…. whatever this was… even half that much as he was committed to his food, he could count himself pretty damn lucky.

“Is this how you grew up eating? Just this? Casually? Every night?” Julian wondered aloud as he continued to stuff his face as gracefully as he could.

Eskel shrugged, “More or less. Of course, we dress it up for the restaurant, and it wasn’t always pasta. Same idea though, especially when Ma was still around. Pops is pretty protective of the recipes nowadays.”

“He’s very protective of all his children, then,” Julian winked, twirling his fork for another mouthful of pasta. “When did—I mean, if you don’t mind the question, when exactly did your mum… uh?”

Eskel smiled, “No, I don’t mind. Geralt was ten, I was nine, Lambert was… five I think? He doesn’t remember much, bits-and-pieces here and there, but Pops gets out the photo albums once a year on Christmas.”

“Wow, so he like, raised you.”

“Pretty much,” Eskel nodded proudly. “He stepped up well. Of course, everybody makes mistakes. But here we are! He kept us all alive, and that wasn’t an easy feat.”

Julian shook his head with a laugh, “No, I bet not. I imagine he’s proud of you, though.”

Eskel shrugged, “Yeah. We try not to bring too much shame on the family.” A little hazel-eyed wink lightened the mood and the two continued to enjoy their meal and each others’ company. Eventually, Julian pushed his plate back.

“I absolutely cannot eat anymore if I’m going to have dessert. This was delicious.”

“I’m glad you liked it. It’s a favourite of mine.” Eskel got the attention of their waiter, “Could we get these boxed up please?”

“Absolutely. Any interest in dessert?”

“Two espressos and a tiramisu, please. And two spoons. Thanks.”

As they waited for their dessert, Julian reached across the table, waggling his fingers for Eskel’s phone. “My turn, please!”

Eskel begrudgingly handed Julian his phone, and he immediately opened the page back up. “Are you… a morning or a night person?”

“Night. I hate mornings.”

“Ironic, since you chose to open a coffee shop.”

“I know. I still haven’t forgiven myself. You?”

“I can be a morning person if I need to be, but I prefer staying up late. I write better in the evenings.”

“You have about a minute and a half before the espresso gets here,” Eskel said with a smirk, his ears having pricked at the sound of the espresso grinder kicking on.

“Okay, okay. Last one: why didn’t your last relationship work?”

Eskel went quiet. Cleared his throat. Stared at his hands on the tabletop. “I’m not going to avoid that question, Julian, but I’m going to table it for now because I don’t want to answer it here. Later,” he added with an affectionate touch to the back of Julian’s hand.

The musician tilted his head sympathetically, “Of course. And obviously, you don’t have to tell me. But if you want to, I’ll listen whenever it feels right.”

Eskel nodded and straightened his tie, giving himself something to do with his hands. “Thank you. I do want to. Just...not right this second.”

“I completely understand,” Julian reassured him before chancing a glance at the kitchen door which was swinging suspiciously.

The waiter returned with their parceled pastas, and then once again shortly after with a beautifully layered, barely-holding-together tiramisu, and their coffee.

Eskel sipped on his espresso as Julian daintily dug into the dessert-y corner nearest him: it was the creamiest, moistest, most delicately sweetened tiramisu he’d ever tasted. “Dear sweet Baby Jesus and the Mother... Eskel—and I need you to answer me honestly—do you, or do you not, know how to make this? Because if you do, I—you’re not going to have to work very hard to keep me around.”

Eskel smirked and set his now half-empty cup down, “It’s a family recipe, we can all make it. It was kind of a rite of passage growing up. You know Papa trusted you in the kitchen when he put you on Dessert Duty.”

“Maybe you could teach me someday?”

Eskel narrowed his eyes over the rim of his small demitasse cup, “Hmm maybe. Not yet, though. I still have no proof you’re not working for a rival restaurant. Someday. For now, I have to entertain the possibility that you’re a double agent.”

He took his own hearty spoonful and flashed Julian a bright smile as he chewed. Lambert had prepped this. He could tell. Every element was executed with clinical precision, from the saturation of the biscuits to the subtle eggy sweetness of the custard—even the dusting of cocoa on top was perfectly proportioned with the rest of it. Lambert had truly, from start to finish, outdone himself, and Eskel couldn’t help but think his younger brother’s hijacking of the kitchen was about more than just spying on his date. No, he’d wanted it to be perfect, as good as it possibly could be; though of course he’d never say it. He didn’t have to. Lambert was a snarky pain in the ass with a heart the size of a cruise ship. This was him saying it.

Having polished off the remains of their dessert and espresso, Eskel went to the restroom and settled the bill while Julian put on his jacket, and the two made their way to thank the hostess one last time before heading into the now-dark evening. As they approached the host stand, however, Eskel stopped walking. He was in earshot now, and didn’t like what he was hearing.

“...don’t understand, what about that table?” An irritated middle-aged man and his dinner companion were standing in the doorway.

“Once again, sir—and I’m very sorry—but that table is reserved and there’s a one-hour wait without reservations.” Jess was clearly flustered, but holding her own as Eskel hovered nearby.

“Well, then, where are the people whose table that is?” The man blustered, pointing to a recently-vacant, un-bused table.

“I’ve phoned them, and have been assured they’ll be here within their five-minute wind—”

“You know what, that’s okay, we’re going to take a seat, thank you,” the man pushed past, no longer even looking at Jess, clearly speaking solely for the purposes of shutting her up. On his way, he collided with the broad-chested, half-Italian-half-Polish son of the restaurant’s proprietor.

“That table’s reserved,” Eskel said, coolly. Julian felt a shiver down his spine as this new Eskel he’d caught glimpses of all night took full form. He seemed to occupy twice the amount of space he had before and the vague threat of physical force loomed in the distance like a far-off thunderstorm. Oh my. Julian took a few measured steps back, not sure quite what to expect. Still, it wasn’t fear that whirled in the pit of his stomach. Rather it was something much warmer, a mix of admiration and curiosity that turned over and over as he watched the scenario unfold.

“Excuse me?” The man’s watery eyes flashed indignantly as he looked Eskel up-and-down. He scowled and made to step around, “Mind your own business.”

“This is my business.” Eskel once again put himself between man and table. “To be more precise, it’s my father’s business, but we’re a close family.”

“Well, then, you should train your staff better. This girl has absolutely no idea what she’s doing. We have a reservation! We told her we had a reservation, and now she’s telling us we have to wait an hour because of her incompetence. It’s a liability to your business, having staff that can’t handle simple things like reservations, can’t keep track of a simple thing like that, you ought to fire that girl!”

Eskel looked over the man’s head to Jess who shook her head, shrugging helplessly as she pointed to the reservation list. “This woman,” Eskel continued, “has been with us for seven years and has helped us to streamline and optimize our reservation system at least three different times. She’s more than competent, she’s an asset, and now I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You think you can come into my father’s restaurant—any restaurant—and insult the hostess, refuse to abide by carefully structured systems and policies, and force your way to a table that’s meant for someone else? There is no table for you this evening.”

Julian’s eyes widened as he watched from his safe distance, pretending to scroll on his phone so as not to draw attention to the fact that he was hanging onto every word of this interaction. Eskel was magnificent: grounded and calm, his tone still polite but inarguably authoritarian. Julian would stake his life on Eskel not being a violent person if he could avoid it, but for someone his size, even the vaguest possibility of an altercation would be enough to make an opponent question their choices.

“What?!” the man blustered again, utterly aghast at being denied.

“I will repeat myself once: you are not welcome in this restaurant tonight. Within five minutes of walking through that door, you’ve abused and disrespected the staff, and abused and disrespected the policies of this establishment. I wish you and your companion a pleasant dining experience elsewhere.” The crossed arms as a final punctuation were almost over-the-top, but the gesture drove the point home.

Julian glanced over to Jess. She was clearly finding the whole experience immensely gratifying (who wouldn’t? It was every service worker’s dream come true). But there was something more behind her relieved expression that told Julian she was also deeply touched. It was easy to see why: Eskel at peak protectiveness may as well have been a lioness or a mother bear warding off a potential threat to her young. Besides, he was clearly enjoying himself.

“Unbelievable. This is unacceptable. I’ll make sure the Star and the Herald hear about this.”

Eskel said nothing, but gestured with an open palm towards the exit, taking a few steps forward. The irritant had no choice but to vacate the premises. There was a moment of silence as the dust settled and after a deep breath, it was Eskel who broke the silence, “Sorry about that, Jess. Are you okay?” He tapped her elbow in familiar reassurance. She nodded, taking a sip of water. It was fine, she was just a little flustered. “Want to step out for a minute or two? I can watch the door. That is—if…” he gestured to Julian, having suddenly remembered exactly why he was there in the first place. He received a flippant wave and a shrug (‘yes of course you can send the flustered hostess on a break’) and took Jess’s place at the host stand while she went through the kitchen to get some fresh air.

When she returned, Lambert poked his head out the kitchen door and whistled to get Eskel’s attention, “‘Ey! Tutto bene?” All good?

“Stiamo bene.” We’re fine, Eskel answered with an easy shrug. “Chiamerei Papà.” I’ll call Dad. He held the door once again for Julian as they made their exit, pausing to say goodnight to Jess with a familial kiss on the cheek and a reminder that his number was still on speed-dial for a reason. The two stepped out of the restaurant and,—after a final pause for Eskel to call Papa Vesemir and explain what happened—fell into a slow and comfortable amble.

The two of them walked leisurely, their shoulders bumping back forth for a while. Julian glanced up into the sparkling stars overhead and back down to where the moon shone over Eskel’s skin. He noticed that Eskel seemed a little tense, and he knew that it wasn't because of the most-recent incident. No, a question was pressing very loudly into the creases of Eskel’s forehead, and Julian so desperately wanted to know the answer—not to be nosy, but so that he could help in some way, maybe. But in the last few days he’d already gotten the sense that Eskel was a private man, and that any amount of prying would only lead to friction.

Eskel’s hand fidgeted nervously with the keys in his pocket as they wandered down the ambling side streets of Little Italy—most of them one-way with barely a car in sight in contrast with the busy main drag. He thought back to the photo above his fireplace. If he was going to take this step, it was now or never. If it went badly, there was no great loss. A good few dates, maybe the possibility of something more, but no heartbreak. If he waited, he would only run the risk of making things much worse for much longer. They wandered into a small park where a modest bridge stretched over a pond filled with ducks and small fish. They crossed halfway and stopped in the middle, relaxing in the little pocket of nature tucked away inside the large city.

Eskel took a deep breath, worrying his lower lip slightly with his teeth, and Julian couldn’t tear his eyes away as he watched him gather his thoughts, wondering exactly what information he was about to be smacked with. Does he have a secret family no one knows about? Maybe he’s a secret agent. That’d be coo- no, Jules, stay on task, he’s clearly going through it.

“So…” Eskel kept his eyes trained on the far side of the pond, watching the ducks float and mingle under the stars.

“So…” Julian said, resting his elbows gently on the old, weathered wood of the bridge rail.

“You asked earlier about my last relationship, and I would like for you to have an answer.” Eskel sighed and ran his hand down his face, discreetly scratching at the long scar on his cheek. “It’s...it’s not a happy story, I’m afraid.”

Julian stayed quiet, letting Eskel take the time he needed to say whatever it was he needed to say. His hand twitched to reach for him, but he pulled back. Let him have space. Does he need space? What if he doesn’t want space? Damnit, Julian, he’s a grown man, he’s fine just let him… be.

Eskel turned and leaned against the railing with his arms crossed in front of his chest. When he spoke, his words felt rough in his throat, but it felt good to be saying them. Felt right. “I was married before.” Julian’s eyes widened as he raised his eyebrows. He didn’t know why, but Eskel had given off a strong bachelor vibe, not at all what he would have expected from someone who’d already been settled down before. “College sweethearts, got married the summer after we graduated, got situated together as best we could—you know, nice apartment, grown-up furniture, houseplants. We made plans to move out of the city, saved up enough to put a small downpayment on a home somewhere quieter. And we did. Front lawn, backyard, space for a garden. It wasn’t much and it was right by the tracks, but it was ours. Packed everything up, rented a U-Haul (we didn’t have much stuff)... A week and two days after we moved in, a drunk driver ran a red going 100 in a 50 zone and ploughed into the passenger side door—damn near tore the car in half. I wasn’t alone.”

“Oh, shit,” Julian breathed, his eyes welling with tears, “I-I don’t know what to say, except I am so sorry…”

Eskel shook his head, still adamantly staring into the distance, his voice a little thick, “Thank you, Julian, you don’t have to say anything. I just… I wanted you to know. I’ve moved on, but I still love her, if that makes any sense.”

“I understand. Thank you.” Julian rested a hand on Eskel’s shoulder, and received a grateful squeeze from Eskel’s hand as it came to meet his. “So… I do have one question. If it’s alright, if not I can save it for another time if you’d rather not—”

Eskel shrugged dismissively, “No, no, it’s all on the table, you should be able to ask. What’s on your mind?”

“It’s just… you said… her?”

Eskel nodded, “Yes.”

“So you…”

“Found someone I loved.”

Julian nodded, feeling the tears finally break through and trickle down his cheeks, cooling in the night air. He cleared his throat, “Eskel? Could I maybe—unless you want some space, which is fine, you can just tell me but—could I hold your hand? I just, I feel like I want to but don’t know if you—”

Eskel slid his hand over the rail and grabbed onto Julian’s hand, their fingers intertwining gently. Julian squeezed, scooting a little closer to Eskel so that he could feel the warmth radiating from beneath his soft suede jacket. Julian sighed softly, mirroring Eskel as they both looked over the water. “Why now? Why me?”

Eskel finally looked over, and Julian met his eyes. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were bright and full of mourning and pain and something lighter, something that felt a lot like hope. “I think you came along at a good time.”

“Did you… I mean… have you been with many—”

“I’ve gotten all the rebound out of my system if that’s what you mean,” Eskel smirked brightly and Julian was surprised at the relief he felt to see joy come back to his companion’s face. He nudged Julian’s shoulder, “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing. At least, when it comes to people. Clothing is a different story, I’ve said as much myself. I like you, Julian. And I meant what I said about taking this seriously. You know, I… this might sound odd, but I like the way you make me feel. It’s a good feeling. And if it’s alright with you, I’d like to kiss you.”

It was slow and fluid, the way Eskel turned to face Julian, gently sandwiching him between the bridge railing and his own warm body. He didn’t crowd, didn’t press, but the soft wool of his sweater met the crisp cotton of Julian’s button-down and a thrill turned in Julian’s stomach as two large hands cradled the sides of his face. Julian swallowed and reached a tentative hand to Eskel’s right cheek. He didn’t flinch or pull away, but almost leaned into the musician’s cool fingers as they traced the jagged lines.

“May I?” Eskel’s whisper was almost plaintive and Julian could feel his breath trembling as he nodded.

Their lips crashed together and they both breathed deep in a mutual swell, noses filling with cologne and freshly laundered clothing, and the crisp smell of dampness that rose from the chilly water below them. Lips, hands, tongues, hair, bodies pressed closer, their breaths misting in the cool spring air. Only the soft sounds of sleepy ducks and the latent rumble of distant traffic could be heard as the two sunk into each other, relished one another. For Eskel, it was part-relief, part-comfort, hope and reassurance. For Julian it was also hope, but a hope that he could be good enough, be someone for Eskel to rely on, trust in. And so far, much to his amazement, he seemed to be succeeding.

When they did finally part for air, neither of them seemed keen to stray far. Eskel leaned his forehead against Julian’s, his eyes still closed as he caught his breath. Julian, however, couldn’t keep his eyes still, drinking in every ounce of Eskel that he could reach. “You, uh…” Eskel swallowed in a gulping breath, “you still have time to run for the hills.”

Julian chuckled and touched their lips back together sweetly, unhurried, a soft peck in the moonlight. “I’m not running anywhere, I promise.”

Julian could feel Eskel’s smile pressing into his own lips, and he knew he was a goner. “Good. That’s very good…”

They stood there for a while more, lingering in each other’s space as the moon peeked out from behind a cloud, hazy and golden. Though, as more clouds threatened to cover the stars in a dewy mist, Eskel murmured in Julian’s ear, taking his hand and leading him down the path towards Julian’s apartment. They took their time walking back, chatting quietly, sometimes playfully bumping shoulders until they finally reached Julian’s door. It was late, almost 10pm as they stood at the front of the walkup, both feeling slightly chilly.

“I would invite you in but… roommate. And I haven’t told her I’m seeing anyone, so. Not that I expect—er, I mean, whatever you, uh—”

“We’ll figure it out,” Eskel said calmly with a hand on Julian’s shoulder. “Plenty of time.”

With that, they said goodnight, and Eskel promised, once again, to text when he got home.

Meanwhile, Lambert had his back pressed up against the side of the restaurant, its windows dark and oblivious to the shenanigans taking place in its side alley. The usurping chef moaned as his bottom lip was gently pressed between a set of teeth, tugging gently, wantonly, with the promise of leaving him tender and swollen and wanting for nothing by the end of the evening. He knew what Lambert wanted, the smarmy asshole was an open book, and the waiter was always happy to oblige. Besides, Lambert wasn’t the only one getting something out of it. Oh no, this was an equal transaction, enthusiastically participated in by both parties.

Lambert threaded his fingers into thick, dark waves of hair and swallowed the moan he received in response. He felt the pair of hands around his waist slide down to his backside and squeeze tightly, grinding their hips together sloppily, desperately.

“I uh-” Lambert gasped between their lips, “I wanted to thank you again for helping out tonight, Aiden. It uh, I know how much Eskel needed that and-”

“Quit being such a sap and shut up so I can kiss you,” Aiden growled, pushing Lambert harder against the cold brick wall at his back and Lambert was very quickly at a loss for words. Did he have to be up at the ass-crack of dawn to go into the cafe? Yes. Was this just the beginning of a—hopefully—very long night? Aiden hooked a finger in Lambert’s belt and began tugging him towards his car. Yes, yes it was.

***

#family business #collab #eskel/jaskier #eskel/julian #fluff #modern au

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