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littlejuicebox · 5 months

Text

Mermaid whiskey.

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F!Reader/Tav Summary/Setting: 2 weeks after BG3 final battle, Elfsong Tavern / Astarion has been ignoring you and spending too much time reading for your tastes, you aim to distract him. Rating/Warnings: M+ / Smut / Light BDSM / Soft Dom Astarion vibes / Some mild in game spoilers/allusions to events / Overstimulation, Teasing, Bondage, Blindfolding etc Word Count: 4.3K Notes: Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off x Whiskey Girl

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Two weeks after the final battle, Astarion is lounging by the crackling fireplace on the upper level of the Elfsong Tavern, a large goblet of red wine in one hand and a book in the other.

Everyone else spent time after the battle exploring the city or downstairs drinking and celebrating their victory as they all prepared to move onto new adventures. But Astarion had chosen nearly every opportunity over the past two weeks to hang back and enjoy some much-deserved alone time. Now that the constant worries about Cazador and the overall impending doom of Baldur’s Gate were all behind him, the rogue threw himself into finding bits of individual enjoyment whenever and wherever he could. He'd fixated himself on hobbies and leisure, and reading had seemed an obvious first choice. He'd easily idle hours away, sometimes reading an entire book cover to cover in one sitting.

Often, you would sit with the elf as he read, snuggled in a blanket or cuddled up against your love, but eventually you always got the urge to get up and do something else. You'd tried on more than one occasion to interest the rogue in another activity, but Astarion remained glued to the couch for those two weeks, barely stepping away to hunt, bathe, or trance. You'd noted, with a bit of concern, that he hadn't even asked to feed on you in more than a tenday.

Tonight, you’d tried more than once to pull him down to the tavern, but the elf quickly refused, barely lifting his eyes from the pages in front of him. Astarion seemed particularly obsessed with this book; you were almost convinced he’d already finished it and had started a second reading.

Several hours passed while you socialized down at the bar and Astarion's perfect nose stayed wedged in a book before a very tipsy Karlach decided to climb the stairs and speak to the vampire. “Oi! C’mon, Astarion! Close that dusty tome and join the fun. We’ll all only be together for a few more days. Me, Lae’zel, Shadowheart, and Tav are taking shots!”

The vampire’s ears perk up and he furrows his brow at the woman, snapping his book shut in the process. “Shots? Of what, exactly?”

“Mermaid Whiskey!”

“Oh no. Oh no, no, no! Karlach! Mermaid Whiskey practically makes Tav’s clothes fall off!”

Astarion is on his feet now, the book abandoned as he rushes past the Tiefling and down the flight of stairs into the tavern. He quickly spots the silky blue bandana you use to tie your hair up at camp strewn upon a forgotten bar stool. Knowing it’s possibly your most prized article of clothing, the elf tucks it into his back pocket. Scarlet eyes perform a hurried scan of the room and the vampire bristles when you’re nowhere to be found.

The others are still at the bar, where Lae’zel just challenged a bartender to an arm-wrestling competition. The women warriors are cheering Lae’zel on as she’s locked in a stalemate with the man.

“Shadowheart, have you seen Tav?”

Shadowheart barely acknowledges the vampire, too engrossed in the show. “What do you mean? She’s right—“ Her gaze flicks to the abandoned stool as Lae’zel successfully slams the worker’s hand onto the sticky bar, causing the campmates and some other patrons to erupt into cheers. “She was right there a moment ago.”

Astarion runs a stressed hand through his curled hair, inspecting the room for any sign of you. Soon enough, he spots a familiar pair of shoes and hurries to them, eyes already searching for the next clue. A discarded earring floating in a glass of half-drunk whiskey is sat on the bottom step of the stairs. That hadn’t been there when he descended down them, had it?

The vampire’s gaze trails up the stairwell and his suspicions are confirmed. Your navy-blue dress is draped across the back of an armchair he can barely see from his low vantage point.

‘She must’ve snuck around when I was talking to Shadowheart.’

The rogue dashes up the stairs to find you reclined on a chaise lounge, body flushed from the whiskey coursing through your veins. You are strewn suggestively across the chaise, clothed in only your laced undergarments and thigh high stockings. The alluring vision caused Astarion's heart to leap into his throat.

“Darling, what on earth do you think you’re you doing? You’re barely clothed in the middle of the tavern. This isn’t the wilds anymore.”

You’re lying on your side when Astarion finds you, and you pout in his direction as he scolds you, waving a dismissive hand. You roll onto your stomach, bending your knees and crossing your legs. You’re pleased to see the vampire's gaze drag down your body, pausing at the curve of your bottom, before flitting back to your face. Astarion licks his lips as he looks at you, the first sign that your little plan is working. You’ve finally gotten his attention after trying to steal him away from that damned book he was so enamored with all night.

“I know my love, but I’m just so unbelievably hot right now. You wouldn’t believe how hot I feel.”

Astarion quickly crosses the few feet between you two, placing a cool, concerned hand on your flushed cheek. “How many shots did you take?”

“Oh, just two. Maybe three? I kept losing the stupid ‘never have I ever game’ because everyone made all their questions about vampires.” You pout at your lover again before turning your head to press your lips against his thumb, lingering there intentionally, your wide eyes still focused on the rogue.

Astarion was no fool. With your mouth holding his thumb in that suggestive manner, he soon realized what you were doing. You adored the vampire with your entire heart, but on your drunken nights, you knew how to be a perfectly tempting, needy little brat. “And why, my sweet, did you keep playing the game if it was so clearly rigged against you?”

You groan, moving to a sitting position, while your hands toy with the laces of your bodice. “Because…” You sharply tug at the flouncy strings and Astarion’s hand catches yours in a tight grip, moments before you’re about to expose your breasts in the center of the lounge. “You’ve barely paid attention to me the past two weeks… and I was lonely and bored and wanted to have fun.”

“Darling, I know what you’re doing... I thought we agreed that tonight you’d go to the bar, and I would stay up here.” Astarion murmurs, nimble fingers toying with the strings of your bodice. He tries to resist the temptation to look down at your cleavage and fails; you see his eyes roll up in annoyance at himself and his inability to fight off his baser instincts in your presence. Inside you’re practically giddy that you’re winning the charade, but you keep the pout plastered to your face.

“We didn’t agree to anything, my Star. You didn't give me a choice.” You huff, pointedly brushing your hair away from your neck to reveal the little pinprick scars made by your lover. The rogue's eyes trail to the marks and he licks his lips again, suddenly quite aware of how long it’s been since he’s sunk his fangs into your flesh.

Gods you were frustrating. Astarion both loathed and loved that you could play him like a lyre; you knew him so well that you understood exactly what would make him tick. Every. Single. Time.

The vampire shakes his head, trying to rattle the fantasies out of his brain and not allow you the upper hand. You were being ridiculous; if you’d wanted attention, you should’ve just asked instead of acting out. Trying to turn the conversation, Astarion asks, “What is it you even like about whiskey? It’s vile.”

You sigh and roll your eyes before sliding off the chaise and sauntering away from the elf. For a moment you think he’s going to let you leave, but then he’s trailing after you like a lost puppy and you know you've got him hooked.

“Excuse me? You’re just going to walk away? Conversation over?”

You shrug and sigh again, stopping just in front of the door to your bedchamber. You turn to face the rogue, leaning back against the door and crossing your arms. Astarion’s eyes are narrowed as he stares at you with some level of frustration and incredulity at your antics.

“If you must know, I suppose I like a bit of edge… and a bit of pain with my pleasure.” Your voice is coy, eyebrow raised, and you're fully leaning into the innuendo of your statement. “And you like that I like it... don’t you?”

Astarion chuckles at this, a smirk ghosting his lips. “You are a wicked little thing, aren’t you? Using my own games and my own tactics against me now?”

You’re wearing a mischievous grin as the rouge saunters forward, closing the distance between your bodies. He firmly grasps your chin in his hand, scarlet eyes studying your face. Just as his lips brush against yours, and you're thinking you've won this little game, you murmur, “I guess the apprentice has become the master.”

Astarion pauses and draws back for a moment, the darkening of his gaze and his raised eyebrow causing you to shudder where you stand as he grips a bit tighter on your chin. “Oh darling. You’re cute. But now I think I have to teach you a lesson and remind you who the master truly is here.”

And then his lips are on yours, fangs clashing roughly into teeth. He feels for the knob behind you and turns it, forcing you both into the room before unceremoniously slamming the door closed. Your mouths are melded together as the vampire effortlessly guides you to the bed and shoves you into the mattress. Quick, pale hands tug at the strings of your bodice and your breasts are released from their confines, spilling out in front of the vampire’s eager gaze as he drags the undergarment off your arms and throws it aside.

Then Astarion grabs something from his back pocket — your blue bandana — and dangles it in front of you with a mock-condescending pout on his lips. All you can think about in that moment is how you want to take that pout into your own lips and bite.

“Darling, you left this downstairs and I had to retrieve it. I think I may need to teach you to take care of your belongings. You only have two of these, my love, and I know you would be so desperate to find them if they were permanently lost, wouldn’t you?”

You nod as you reach for your bandana, but Astarion is faster and pulls it away just in time, smirking at you all the while. “Come to think of it… where is your other bandana, my sweet?”

"It's in here." You murmur, lips already swollen from the rough kiss he'd pulled you into. You turn to the nightstand and withdraw your second bandana, an identical twin to the first. Astarion quickly takes it from your hand and grins mischievously, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as the silken fabric glides from your fingers.

“Good girl. Now, give me your hands.”

You oblige and the rogue deftly binds your wrists together with an expertly tied knot. He tugs at the bindings, testing their strength. Astarion lifts your hands to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of one before taking the second bandana and folding it into a long strip. Your eyes are fixated on his lithe fingers. Then he presses forward, face mere inches from yours. His eyes are dark and intense, but glimmering with adoration all the same, in a way that floods you with the overwhelming sensation of excitement and safety all in one.

“You’ll let me know if it’s too much, won't you, my love?”

“Y-yes.” You whisper, almost breathlessly and wholly impatient for what is coming next. Your body still burns with desire and Mermaid Whiskey. The last thing you see is Astarion’s eyes before the second bandana shrouds you in darkness.

Cool hands guide you to lay back onto the mattress and soon enough long, nimble fingers languidly trace their way down your body. You feel Astarion’s hands ghost over your arms, down your collarbone, and then trail circles around your breasts where he gives both nipples a gentle, teasing tug before moving on. His fingers brush your abdomen, around the curve of your hips, down the tops of your thighs, and finally to your calves. Then his lips press to your foot, and he works at pressing feather light kisses up your leg.

He continues kissing up your right leg for what seems like forever, fingers still moving tantalizingly along your calf and thigh. By the time the vampire makes his way back up to the top of your thigh, you are wiggling and keening in anticipation. He hovers over your still-clothed mound for a few beats before shifting slightly and returning to kissing down your left leg. You whine in disappointment, your bound hands straining against the fabric as you try to grip your lover. A dark chuckle is all you get in response as Astarion continues to kiss your opposing thigh, nibbling here and there, at a rate that seems somehow even slower than the first leg he worshipped.

By the time he’s placing a kiss to the top of your left foot, you’re writhing wholeheartedly, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to give yourself more stimulation. You don’t dare use your bound hands, knowing the punishment would be further binding and teasing. Astarion unhurriedly runs his hands up your legs once again, stopping to draw leisurely circles at the apex of your thighs before tracing one chilled finger along the waistband of your underwear.

“A-Astarion!” You choke out with another whine, just as the vampire runs that same finger down your still-clothed slit, feeling the wetness now soaking through the fabric from his torments.

Your lover chuckles in dark delight. “I’ve barely even touched you, my needy little love, and yet here you are, positively soaked. Your lesson is far from over, darling.”

There is a moment of silence apart from soft rustling; you cannot see anything, but your ears pick up the sound of Astarion’s buckle coming undone. And then you feel his weight on top of you. You can tell he’s still wearing his briefs as he presses his groin against your sex, legs straddling either side of your hips. Suddenly you feel a sharp pinch on both your nipples. Your back arches in response to the sensation while a pleading groan shoots from your mouth.

“Mm… I think you quite like that, don’t you?”

“Y-yes!” Is all you can reply as you feel Astarion's cold hands kneading the flesh of your breasts before he resumes pinching the swollen buds.

You try to buck your hips, but the bastard knows what he’s doing, and he’s got you pinned perfectly beneath him in a way that renders you all but helpless. Your bound hands search for Astarion’s body, and you barely graze against his abdominals before the vampire rips your hands away with a little tut, laying nearly all his body weight atop you as he raises your hands up over your head. You can feel his breath against your ear before he takes the lobe in his mouth and nibbles. Gods the torture was becoming unbearable. You buck again, another frustrated whine escaping your lips.

“Shhh now, darling. Shame we don’t have a third bandana or you would be gagged. We are quite impatient today, aren’t we?”

You whimper as he continues the abuse to your ear before trailing his tongue down to your neck. “My little whiskey girl…” His lips hover over that familiar little spot on your neck, his breath tickling your skin. Your pulse jumps to greet your lover. “May I?”

You barely nod, “Yes. Please.”

Astarion groans at your response, thrusting his hips forward to press his rock-hard bulge into your folds. You feel a sharp, icy sting in your neck before your body gives way to the delectable ripples of pleasure. The vampire laps from you lazily, rutting against your mound, the still-clothed underside of his cock sawing torturously between the folds of your still-clothed but now dripping slit. He continues suckling, not really drinking for sustenance but more for his own pleasure, his hardening member abusing your swollen clit. You’re keening again, and one of his hands moves to tease your nipple while the other gets lost in your hair, holding you in place as he takes his lazy laps.

“A-Astarion. Astarion! Please, I’m gonna—“

But before you can finish, you feel the wave of pleasure crashing over you and your legs are trembling as you find your release. The elf groans again as you orgasm, now suckling and rutting with more fervor as the taste of your ecstasy courses through your veins. When the crescendo wanes and you’re left panting, Astarion retracts his fangs from your neck with a pleased little hum.

Suddenly the bandana is pulled from your eyes, and you blink, adjusting to the light. The vampire is still straddling you, an arrogant smirk plastered across his face as he wipes the final rivet of blood from his mouth and licks it off his thumb. “Satisfied, darling? Have I paid enough attention to you now?”

You groan and buck your hips again, your drenched undergarments barely rubbing against the rogue’s stiff cock. “No!” You shriek as your bound hands pound back into the mattress.

Astarion’s lips are on yours anew, swallowing your protests as he delves his tongue into your eager mouth. You taste the iron of your own blood and groan, writhing against him and desperately pulling at your bindings. When the rogue pulls back he chuckles before easily delving two fingers inside your ruined undergarments, curling his fingers to barely strum against your swollen clit. You try to arch to meet his digits with a desperate, pleading moan, but the weight of him on your legs keeps you pinned, and you cry out.

“Please, please, please.” You whine in a soft chant coming from your lips, still using all of your strength to barely buck your hips. Your hands are twisting desperately in their bindings. “Please, please, please.”

“Such a needy little thing, aren’t you, my love?” He coos, continuing to barely tease your throbbing clit with expert fingers. “What is it that you want?”

“You know what I want!” You hiss through gritted teeth, your frustration bubbling over as the rogue torments that sensitive nub between your legs.

“Hmm… perhaps I do. But you need to ask for the things that you want, my sweet. The parasite is gone and I’m no mind reader.”

“Please put your cock inside me! Please.”

“Hmm... there we are. That’s my good girl. Now, was that really so hard, little love?"

Before you can answer, Astarion’s mouth is enveloping yours as he works to quickly remove his own undergarments. The feeling of his barren member on your mound renews your desperation and you keen into your lover's mouth, causing him to smirk into the kiss. He quickly maneuvers his knee to the inside of your thigh, hitching his own leg up to spread you wide, granting him full access to your sex. Deft fingers slide the thin, arousal-soaked cloth of your underwear aside and then you feel the head of his cock pressed just against your entrance.

“Who do you belong to, my love?” The vampire asks when he pulls away from the kiss, scarlet eyes peering into yours. He’s rocking his hips just slightly, the tip of his member barely teasing in and out of your desperate pussy. He brings his hand to the side of your face, stroking his thumb along your cheek.

“You, Astarion.” You whisper, so entranced by the look in his eyes and the feeling of his cock pressing into you that you can barely think or breath. You try to thrust down to meet your lover's miniscule ministrations, but his other hand has your hip pinned in place.

“Give me your hands again.”

You oblige, and the rogue quickly undoes your fastenings, gently pressing his lips into the angry red marks around your wrists. He takes one of your hands and interlaces your fingers in his. Astarion pins one hand back above your head, but allows you the freedom of the other hand, which you bring to the side of his neck.

Then the vampire kisses you once more. As his lips press into yours, his cock slides into your eagerly awaiting cunt. Every ripple of Astarion's thick shaft makes your body sing in delight, and you're groaning into the elf's mouth as he begins to make fervent love to you, hips snapping with vigor as he sheaths and unsheathes himself in a steady rhythm.

“You are… entirely infuriating… and vexing, sometimes. Do you know that, little love?” He purrs between his lips enveloping yours, tongue exploring your mouth. The vampire plunges into you with steady determination, slowly picking up his tempo.

You’re breathless, rolling your hips to meet the rogue’s. Your eyes are shut as you smirk at his comment. “I know.. I just think you’re so sexy when you’re frustrated.” You respond between panting breaths, and that earns you a rough thrust that hits your cervix and knocks the air from your lungs as you moan in surprise.

Astarion’s hand that isn’t intertwined with yours comes under your chin and takes a firm hold, pressing just enough on your windpipe to create the delicious feeling of breathlessness without actually preventing you from breathing. Your eyes snap open from the sensation.

“You. Are. A. Naughty. Girl.” He hisses, eyes boring into your own, face mere inches from yours, and each word punctuated by another forceful snap of his hips. You moan at the feeling of his length slamming into your cervix. By this time, he’s panting and the flush on his ears is rising, and you know he’s close to his own release. One of Astarion's fingers is lingering dangerously close to your mouth as he clutches your neck; you take the digit between your lips and begin to suck.

As the vampire sees your tongue snake around his finger, he’s done for. All resolve is gone, and your lover fucks into you with reckless abandon as you moan around his hand. The grip on your neck tightens as he starts to emit his own cries of pleasure, and your hand wraps tightly onto his neck in response, nails digging into cold flesh.

“Do you see what you do to me?” He asks through gritted teeth as his thrusts become sloppy. You’re seeing stars, and the friction of his pelvis paired with the intense throbbing of your abused pussy is sending you towards a second climax. As your body reaches its crescendo, you release Astarion’s finger from between your lips and cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. The rogue hears your beautiful cry and feels the pulsing of your sex, which finally pushes him over the edge as he spills into you, cock twitching with every new stream of seed.

His mouth is on yours before you finish your strangled cry of release, and Astarion’s works to kiss you down from your incredible high. The vampire releases your neck, and the passionate force of his lips slowly ebbs into a gentle, lazy kiss. Eventually, with both of your bodies fully spent, the rogue rolls onto his side, sliding himself from you and spilling the evidence of your love making across the silky sheets.

Astarion rolls from the bed, and you whine, but he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as he promises he will be right back. He slips his trousers on and exits the room for a minute, only to return with the book he seemed obsessed with. Part of you is annoyed when the rogue settles back into bed, opening his arm so you can nestle yourself in the crook.

You give him a little pout. “Do you not love me more than you love these books? I’m beginning to worry I’ve coupled myself to another Gale. I was sure that tonight would distract you and I would have you all to myself.”

Astarion chuckles, shaking his head slightly before turning to kiss you on the forehead. “My sweet, surely you know the depths of my love for you far surpass the pages of a book. And you are always distracting... even when I am thinking of something else, I am also thinking of you.”

He shuts the book and taps his hand on the cover, lithe fingers moving to trace the embossed words of the title. “I apologize if I’ve been consumed and you’ve felt neglected, my darling. This book is just… intriguing.”

You turn your head and for the first time, read the title: ‘The Creation of Dhampirs: A Guide.”

Oh.

Your brow furrows as you turn to look at Astarion, and you see a wistful, faraway look in his eyes. This look was different from his unfortunately familiar one that he displayed during flashbacks and night terrors… this one contained hope.

“Are you imagining your future, Astarion?” You ask, sitting up just enough to place a kiss on your lover’s cheek and brush a few wayward curls back into place. “If you are, then I’d better be there by your side.”

The rogue snaps out of his reverie and turns to look at you again, his expression laced with love. He extends his long arm backwards, dropping the tome on the nightstand before placing his hand on your face. Astarion’s thumb strokes your cheek and he sighs happily before whispering, “Yes, you’d better be.”

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puckarchives · 4 months

Text

personally, i found it very attractive: l. hughes

blurb: in which an interview with the devils' upcoming rookie takes the intern by suprise. / word count: 1.5k / pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader

To be fair, all that I wanted to do was leave the Prudential Center, go home, and take a long bath. The game between the New Jersey Devils and the New York Rangers had gone into overtime, and as much as I loved my job, it truly had been a long day.

Flashing my lanyard at the security guard standing outside of the Devils' locker room, I was ushered into the room, joining the growing cohort of other journalists; writers who had made their entire career off of reporting on the comings-and-goings in the sports world. Now that the team had been solidified with major additions, and taken players off of their Injury Report roster, the Devils had put up a good fight against their Hudson River rivals.

Grabbing my phone and opening voice notes, I made a beeline for the one player that I needed to cover— Luke Hughes, one of the newest additions to the Devils, and a hell of a defenseman that I needed to talk to on his play earlier on the ice. And, thanks to the work I had put in weeks before trying to get this same interview, I had the opportunity to actually talk to him, instead of having to wait around in a circle while other journalists droned on (and asked) practically the same questions over and over again.

I had fallen in love with sports journalism because of this— because of the opportunity to speak with the players who have it their all on that ice, and who had a true passion for the game they played.

I once again flashed my I.D. to one of the team's publicists, Sharyl, and she smiled over at me— shaking my hand and calling over Luke.

"Hi Y/N! How are you holding up over this season?" she asked as we stood in our corner, both angled to see the player coming towards us.

"Hi Sharyl, I'm doing well! Just finished up my third-year, and I just need this last interview to finish up the project I've been working on these past few weeks," I told her. It was true— I had been working on this player profile for the past few weeks, and currently, this single nineteen-year-old rookie was the only person left on my list before I could publish the article that I was hoping would help my career.

"Oh that sounds so good, sweetheart! I know just how many hours you've been putting in here, and I'm so excited to read!" the older lady said.

"Here's Luke now!" she said, saying hello to the defenseman, and then turning back to me.

"Luke, this is Y/N, the reporter I mentioned from ESPN's journalism internship cohort. She's just going to go over a few things with you, and finish up her profile," she told the curly-haired boy.

"Hi, Luke, I'm Y/N, it's nice to meet you!" I spoke up, putting my hand out for him to shake.

It seemed to take him a few moments to catch up with me; and, to be fair, that was to be expected. I was his age, and from the way Sharyl was speaking about me, you'd expect me to be much older, or even a man. When I had begun working for ESPN's College Internship program, I had started with baseball as my main coverage sport— slowly growing from that to hockey as the seasons changed, and then, finally, landing on the Devils as my main beat at the beginning of the season. With all that, however, I knew the way people looked at me— questioning as to why an eighteen year old college student was interviewing men in sports that others thought I didn't even know existed, or even know how they worked. So, his reaction was expected.

The six-two boy in front of me seemed to be struck out of whatever stupor he was in, however, and shook my hand back.

"Hi, Y/N, it's nice to meet you. Sharyl said you'd be stopping by," he said. He was quiet, and I could tell how much of a toll the game had on him— despite being freshly showered, he sported his signature smirk— looking down at me as the cheers and celebrations kept it up behind him.

"Yeah! I just have a few questions to ask, but do you want to follow me out to the media office? It shouldn't take too long, especially since I'm sure you want to go celebrate your win tonight," I told him.

Not really looking for a response, I looked over the boy— he was, admittedly, cute. His eyes were full of life— and he filled out his after-game clothing well. That, and the coupling of beauty marks over his face just enhanced how handsome he was. God, get it together, I told myself. You're on the job!

Finding ourselves in one of the various media offices hosted in the Prudential Center's basement, I sat down across from the rookie, and waited until we were both situated to start the interview.

“So, thank you for sitting down with me! It was a long game out there, but you’re really pushing through,” I laughed, trying to ease the tension I could feel on my end. I really didn’t want to make a fool of myself in front of this very cute boy, and even less knowing that he was a professional player in the sport I covered heavily.

“No— no it’s all okay, no worries,” he said, “I’d rather be here than listening to Shmido trying to recap the entirety of the second-half,” he laughed.

“Well, you’re the first to say that,” I smiled back. “So, now that you’re on your second official NHL game, I kind of have to point out— you went from playing for Michigan, and then skating for the league in just a few weeks, and you admittedly have had a huge transformation—” I started.

“Yeah I got faster,” he laughed, his cheeks tinging a shade of pink, and I couldn’t really lie to myself and blame it on his earlier celebrations. “Don’t worry, you can say it— Jacky has.”

“Well, I’ll be honest, it’s really been great to watch. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you the entire game,” I said, and then admittedly felt my own cheeks flush, because truly, what was I thinking? Was I openly flirting with a guy I was supposed to be interviewing? Before I could feel myself blush even further, or even make the situation even more awkward, the silence was broken with Luke’s laugh— a stark and loud chuckle that made me look up automatically. His blush had now traveled from his cheeks to the tip of his hair, peeking out of his wet curls.

He ran his hand through his hair, “Well I mean, that’s definitely great to hear— are you serious?” he said, and for the life of me, I couldn’t tell if he was joking— if he was making fun of my obvious lack of flirting ability, or egging me on.

“Very,” I said. “It was a great game, and the goal you made in OT was just so smooth! Personally, I found it very attractive” I said; I had spent the entirety of the game looking at Luke skating— the smooth and strategic moves he made on the ice, passing the puck back and forth as if he was moving in water. He was beautiful on the ice— weaving between the opposing team’s players quicker and way more efficiently to the point where they couldn’t even keep up with him.

“And I have to point out the pass you made to Jack in the second-half and the assist you sent to Nico! I haven’t seen a lot of puck work that really resembled that in such a while, and—” I cut myself off, trying not to let myself ramble any farther in front of the boy I could feel myself crushing on.

“I mean that’s really a high compliment, thank you,” he said. “I mean, I know this might not be entirely appropriate for the interview, but I’m free after this, if you are two?” he asked. This had to be some kind of cliche, I thought, not really thinking that he had just asked me out.

I did, however, hope he wasn’t egging me on— and, besides, after this profile came out, I wouldn't be covering the NJ Devils until next season, so why not? Why not spend an afternoon with a hot hockey player who I had already called cute? “You know what? I am also free, and I was going to get dinner, if you wanted to join me,” I responded, hoping the youngest Hughes would take me up on the offer too. “I also don’t have class tomorrow, so yes, I am very free after this,” I laughed.

The boy in front of me smiled up, pushing the curls falling in his face back, and saying a quick “Well, then let’s get this thing started.”

#luke hughes #new jersey devils #nj devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #nhl blurb #nhl imagine

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hotmessmaxpress · 14 days

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honestly still thinking about Luca/bezz…… literally like at least once a day since. 10/10

I love them soooo much 😭 their energies just fit so well to me. Bezz with his stoner vibes and Luca “if I wasn’t a racer I’d be an astrophysicist” Marini (he really said that!!)

I feel like Bezz makes Luca lighten up a little and not overthink things so much and I feel like Luca’s logical brain makes it easy for him to talk Bezz down when he’s emotional and upset. I just feel like they’re good balances for each other!

Unfortunately they are not a popular pairing 😔 but I wrote some more for them just for you anon

Bezz is in pre-heat.

Bezz is in pre-heat, so he’s grouchy and sore. He is even more picky about eating, at the moment, which makes him even grouchier. He oscillates between sad, angry, and horny almost hourly.

A small mercy is that it’s a convenient time for a heat; he’s got a two week between races and very few commitments. Those that he had were easily rescheduled, and he informed the group chat that he was going to be out of commission for a few days.

Luca is the one who asks: Where and with who?

You and yours please 🥺

Bezz responds immediately, delighted that Luca was the one who asked. For the last few months since Bezz and Luca got themselves on the same page, Bezz has been incredibly horny for the taller man. He still takes care of his entire pack, thank you very much, but he’s known for a while now that he wanted to spend his next heat with Luca.

Celin laugh reacts to Bezz’s text, and Pecco and Mig give it thumbs up. Bezz knows Franky won’t respond; if Bezz wanted him there for his heat he’d be there right away, but since he doesn’t, Franky probably won’t respond until after his heat is already over.

Luca texts him directly outside of the groupchat to ask about arrangements, snacks, and timeline. Bezz probably has another day or two until his heat fully hits, but Luca invites him down to Tavullia to get settled anyway, and Bezz doesn’t need to be asked twice. He takes Rubik to his sister’s house and she shoves him out the door quickly.

“Are you sure you have a few days? You stink.”

He sticks his tongue out at her and gets in the car, heading straight to Luca’s. The drive isn’t terribly long, but he’s fidgeting in his seat with excitement when he gets to Luca’s.

Luca comes outside to greet him, and Bezz throws himself into his arms and nuzzles into his neck. Luca chuckles at him and scents him when Bezz finally pulls back enough for Luca to reach his neck.

“Was the drive okay?”

Bezz nods, begrudgingly allowing Luca to step away from him and go take his bags from his car.

“I’ve got some of Vale’s things here but I’m not sure if they still smell like him. If you’d like, I can run down to the ranch and grab some things?” he says. “I can get what you need and stop for snacks, and you can take a shower and get comfortable. Maybe pick a movie,” he suggests.

“Perfect,” Bezz agrees.

Luca kisses him sweetly then leaves, taking Bezz’s car. Bezz watches him go happily, then heads upstairs for a shower.

When he’s finished he dresses in a sweatshirt of Luca’s and a pair of briefs.

Luca prefers not to watch television in bed, because of an article he read about how much it messes with your sleep, but he still keeps a television in the bedroom. Bezz turns it on and snuggles up against Luca’s pillow, waiting for him to return with food and nesting material.

It doesn’t take him long, and when he returns he dumps a pile of blankets and clothes on top of Bezz.

Bezz laughs, extracting himself from the pile and holding his arms out.

Luca leans down for a kiss.

“Are you in bed for the day?”

Bezz shrugs. He can’t promise he’ll get up again.

Luca chuckles and goes downstairs to grab drinks while he waits patiently for Bezz to set up his nest and invite him in.

When Luca comes back, Bezz is almost done. He wiggles around for a moment until he is fully relaxed, then he welcomes Luca in with a beaming smile.

Luca’s body is long and lean, a little bony, but by now Bezz knows exactly how to slot himself against the other man. He knows the most comfortable spots to press his nose and lips, and exactly where to put his hands and legs.

Luca rumbles low in his chest when Bezz is sufficiently comfortable.

“I love you,” Bezz says happily.

“I love you too,” Luca says, pressing a kiss to Bezz’s hair.

They make it halfway through the movie before Bezz is rutting against Luca’s thigh. It’s not quite heat yet, because there’s no frantic desperation, but he still needs it.

Luca rumbles encouragingly, coaxing Bezz to keep grinding against him. Bezz whimpers, rolling his hips forward and rubbing his cock against Luca.

Luca coos.

“You really did need to come here, didn’t you? Imagine if you hadn’t; you’d be all alone having to take care of yourself.” Luca tuts. “I am glad you’re here so your alpha can take care of you.”

Bezz whines against his neck, and Luca finally takes pity on him.

He rolls Bezz onto his back, kissing him deeply. Bezz moans into the kiss, and Luca presses his body down on top of him.

They kiss deeply until Luca nearly loses track of time; when he pulls away, a trail of spit connects his lips to Bezz’s flushed red ones.

“Luca, please,” Bezz pouts, pointedly grinding his hips upward.

Luca laughs, nuzzling against Bezz’s neck enough to suck a mark at his pulse point before diving downward.

He tugs off Bezz’s briefs, tossing them away, before wrapping his lips around his cock.

Bezz has had his cock in Luca’s mouth many, many times, but he still gasps. To have the full focus and attention of such a beautiful man is overwhelming.

When Luca looks up at him with his bright blue eyes, Bezz nearly comes right then and there.

Instead he whines, and reaches for Luca. Luca reaches up to take his hand.

Bezz clings to him like a lifeline as Luca wraps his free hand around his cock and then licks down to Bezz’s hole. Bezz whines, feeling as Luca licks at the wetness between his legs.

Luca eats him out until Bezz is nearly in tears.

“You’re so delicious,” Luca says sweetly.

“Please,” Bezz groans.

Luca finally pulls his own boxers off, and Bezz opens his legs wider, trying to urge Luca to go on and fuck him already.

Luca slides into him smoothly, and Bezz whines.

“That’s it,” Luca praises. “You’re so good, Bezz.”

He fucks into him with deep, forceful thrusts. Bezz swears he can feel him in his stomach.

Bezz’s brain goes a little fuzzy from there, and his focus is dominated by Luca, Luca, Luca.

Bezz has come and is happily biting at Luca’s shoulder when Luca finally comes, pumping Bezz with the first of many loads for the coming days, and plugging him with his knot.

Bezz coaxes him to lay down on top of him, and he plays with Luca’s hair while they wait for his knot to shrink.

Just for fun, Bezz clenches his hole around Luca’s knot, just to hear him groan and grind into him.

“You menace,” Luca groans.

Bezz smiles happily. It’s going to be a good few days, spending his heat with Luca.

#bezz/luca #bezz x luca #marco bezzecchi #luca marini #rosquez a/b/o au #mb72 #lm10

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ownedbythescribe · 1 year

Text

Wanderer/Scaramouche | Vanilla Coffee

ıllı Synopsis: As sweet as vanilla coffee? Yes, that's how you would describe your boyfriend. Why? Because all dark thoughts disappear with just a single word from him.

ıllı Genre: Fluff, Modern AU

ıllı Notes: Use of his first name ‘Kunikuzushi’, Gender Neutral Reader, Engineering Student Reader

ıllı A/N: I had been thinking of trying out modern AU lately, and I ended up with Scara. I’m not sure if I did good here, but I’m happy with it. When will I get myself a guy like this? *sob sob*

It was officially the 28th hour that you had been wide awake for the week, sleep thrown out of the window. The cherry on top, it was just Wednesday. The glare from your laptop's screen started to irritate your eyes, so you opted to lean back and close your eyes for a moment. Exhaustion blanketed your body, and the stiffness of your neck was another fact of the number of hours you had been doing your project. Turning to the side, you saw your roommate still sleeping. There was a 7 AM class waiting for her later, though, while yours decided to use the time to let the groups finish the design project for finals week.

'What a great time to run into problems. Just fantastic.' If anyone were to talk to you right now, they would be barraged with sarcastic comments. It was not something you wished for others to receive so early in the morning. Still, the lack of sleep and fatigue from researching sample calculations for the dryer section of paper production depleted your patience.

After 30 minutes of rest, you heard a notification sound from your phone. It was your partner messaging you about a plausible sample they found online. You hastily opened the document and noticed the similarities to the equipment you had been designing for a couple of days. Sending a happy sticker, you asked if they could do the final touches to the chapters prior to the computation section. You informed them that you would take the calculations part and send it to them for rechecking. You planned to have the paper assessed by the professor before the presentation.

“Are you sure? I can help out a bit. We can meet up later by City Cafe.” They suggested, eager to help, considering that you had been stressing over the matter for hours.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry. Plus, this is a good way to release some tension from all that research we did last night. Be back in a few hours!” You chimed.

With renewed energy, you stood up and sauntered toward your roommate, who was happily snoring away. You nudged her awake, but she entirely turned around and mumbled words of "five more minutes." By then, you knew she meant another hour. You called for her name again, and as if annoyed, she smacked you square in the face. It was neither light nor heavy.

"If you don't wake up this second, I'll throw your cinnamonroll plushie in the toilet." You threatened, having enough of her antics. She bolted up from her bed and then noticed the redness on your face. Knowing her sleeping habits, she quickly apologized. It was almost comical, but you were too weary to entertain it. Sighing, you ordered her to get ready for class before grabbing cereal for breakfast.

While munching on it, you started solving the design for the dryer. The document made it easy to follow, but you needed additional data to complete it, so you re-read another article you used as a basis. Suddenly, your phone buzzed. Plastered on the screen was your boyfriend's name, "Kuni <3". People know him as Scaramouche, but you prefer to call him Kuni. He was skeptical at first, but it grew on it. Although, it was only you who was allowed to do so.

“Hey, do you have classes today?” Scaramouche asked. You squinted your eyes at the camera. It looked like he was walking by the gardens near the pharmacy building. Honestly, you envied how the school's budget was poured into that place. They had a scenic park outside, and the laboratories were top-notch.

"Luckily, no, because this project is killing me." You groaned, scratching away at the paper on your desk. Another data was missing, so you checked the excel file for it. You did not notice your boyfriend staring at your face. He could see how stressed and tired you had been. Sleep forgotten in the midst of accomplishing the project.

"Is it due this week?" He asked. You took in a deep breath before shaking your head. He let out a sigh, but before he could berate you, you let him know that it was because of the schedule proposed to finish the paper. He was still conflicted but accepted it nonetheless. Pausing for a moment, you watched him walk to his building. It was slightly covetous how relaxed the indigo-head was compared to you.

Scaramouche tapped his ID in the scanner before looking back at you. He caught your stare. In the pit of his stomach, he hated that you neglected yourself again. He clicked his tongue instinctively before telling you to get at least a power nap after doing the computation.

"All right, but this might take a while. Oh, you're going in already? See you by the end of the week for our date?" You asked, hope evident in your tone. He could not say no to your puppy face.

"Yeah. Don't collapse on me, all right, doofus? Love you." He teased. You grinned, shaking your head at his mean nickname. He repeated his goodbye before ending the call. You missed him already.

"Stop with the long face. Here, I cooked some eggs and ham. Got you some rice too." Your roommate nudged. You took it from her hands and thanked her.

She went to the closet while scolding you for staying up all night considering that you have a weak immune system. You assured her that you had been taking vitamins every day. She was not convinced.

"That's not enough. Scaramouche is right. Take a power nap after that whatnot you're doing. I'll get going now, or the professor will kill me this time. Don't forget to lock the door before you sleep!" She reminded, dashing out of the dorm. You shook your head at her strange chirpiness.

Once again alone in your own world, you continued with your endeavors. You moved from determining the drying properties of the conveyor dryer to its design parameters. The good thing about the latter portion was it was based on heuristics alone, so you could simply pull out a handbook and search for the formula there. It was the computation for the cylinders' length and number that was lengthy.

"All right. That should do it. If my partner approves this, the next part would be to render the 3D model in SolidWorks." You murmured, exhaustion catching up to your body.

The document was immediately sent. You stoop up to stretch, only to collapse on your side of the bed. Your eyes felt hot and heavy, breathing unsteady. It felt like the world crashed on your body, so you closed your eyes. A hushed promise to wake up after an hour or two slipped from your lips.

“Hey, I’m coming over after class. Don’t forget to lock the door. I know you have a security guard downstairs, but you can never be too careful.

-Kuni”

After what seemed like hours, you blearily opened your eyes to the sigh of familiar indigo hair by your bedside. Scaramouche was taking out medicine bottles and fruits. It seemed like an illusion, probably a dream even. He did not have any reason to come to your dormitory.

Unable to help yourself, you reached to brush off his hair. He was startled by the action, but when he glanced at your dazed look, he sighed. He touched your forehead, the coldness of his hand enticing you. A chuckle left his lips at the sight of you trying to nuzzle into his hand.

"Good to see you awake, sleepyhead. Here, eat this. Drink your medicine after." He instructed. A little bit of clarity reached your mind, so you sat up and tilted your head in confusion. What was the medicine for? Catching sight of it, he replied.

"You had a small fever by the time I got here. I assume you were not able to read my text and simply fell asleep. Not to mention, you left the door unlocked. What am I going to do with you?" He scolded. You stared owlishly, a bit apologetic but dazed. Then, you saw a coffee by the kitchen table.

"Vanilla latte?" He nodded. You were about to ask for it when he glared at you, clearly compelling you to eat first and drink the medicine. The coffee could wait, but your fever would not.

Succumbing to his orders, you finished the food he prepared for you. It was chazuke, his specialty. You were unsure if it was because you were sick, but it tasted better than before. Subsequently, you downed the bitter medicine. It was a bit difficult to swallow, but you held it in. When you showed him that you were done, he gave you the coffee with a headpat in tow.

"Don't stay up late tonight. You finished your task for the day, right?" There was a concerned glimmer in his eyes. It seemed like you worried your boyfriend again. Not like he was not used to it, but it was better to remind you to take care of yourself. He loved you too much to get tired of it anyway.

"I won't. Let me check my phone first to see if they approve of it. Hmm? Oh, I made a mistake in the last part. I'll fix it tomorrow, then have the model rendered. 'Thanks! Let's rest for tonight', and send." You grinned. It was nice to be ahead of your schedule. Scaramouche nodded, putting away the bowl and medicine. Deep inside, he was proud of you and wanted to smother you with kisses, but that would be out of character for him. He knew being an engineering student was tough, but you held on to it because it was your dream.

"Kuni, are you going home early after this?" You asked. He was washing the dishes but said he might because his roommate passed him the task of making dinner tonight. It was infuriating how irresponsible the guy was sometimes, but he let it slide today.

Hearing his answer saddened you. There was a part of you that wanted him to stay and cuddle up, but it might be too selfish to ask. A dejected hum left you, which did not sit well with him.

"Don't worry. I can stay for a bit longer. I'm sure Heizou can hold himself for hours of no food." He finished putting the plates away and joined you in bed. You leaned on him as he smoothened your hair. His warmth was comforting, pushing away the fatigue that crept up your spine. It made you feel fuzzy. Sometimes, you thought having him by your side was too good to be true, but he scoffed at it. His words still rang in your ears.

"I chose you. You are mine, as I am yours."

All dark thoughts were blown away. You did not want to let go, and he would not let you do so.

"Thank you." He held you closer, then kissed your forehead.

"Always."

Please don’t copy or repost my stories, but notes and reblogs are always appreciated!

#genshin impact #genshin #fluff #romance #genshin x reader #wanderer #scaramouche #kunikuzushi #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #modern au

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workingtowardsthatphd · 5 days

Text

Wednesday 24th April

In town this morning because I need to get my phone fixed, so I've handed that off to the very nice man in the phone shop and am waiting in a cafe for him to finish that. It's gonna cost me a whopping £90 but at least I will have a working phone again!

Incomplete from Yesterday:

Replying to emails.

To do:

Collect up the quotes for Chapter 2 of my dissertation into one document.

Take notes from the book I read last week and complete the annotated bibliography for it.

Start reading the articles I have bookmarked from the final newspaper I need to read, take notes and fill out the annotated bibliography for that.

Complete:

Replied to the emails! A quick and easy task!

Started collecting the quotes up into one document and realised that I failed to write down the page numbers for some of them, so I am going to have to go back and find those at some point, thankfully I kept all of the books I read for this exact purpose because I do in fact know myself. Still very irritating.

Phone has been fixed! In that time I also read over what I submitted to my supervisor yesterday and i Hate It. I'm probably going to rewrite it entirely in the next few days, probably irritate him by submitting a completely new document, but hey! that's life.

Cups of coffee: ☕☕

#student #student life #studyblr #undergrad student #uniblr #chaotic academia #study blog #study motivation #university #studyspo

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disturbedbydesign · 2 years

Text

Take Me Home - Part 11

PAIRING: Dennis Baker x Reader

SUMMARY: It’s been nearly a year since your ex-boyfriend dumped you and left you with a laundry list of insecurities, and you haven’t been able to really put yourself out there since. But when Dennis shows up at the adoption fair you’re running for your job at the animal shelter, there’s just something about him that makes you feel like you’re ready to try again.

WORD COUNT: 6K

WARNINGS (more to come): Body Issues (Dennis and Reader), References to Past Animal Abuse, Emotionally Abusive Exes (Dennis and Reader), Mention of Past Domestic Violence (Dennis’s Evil Ex), Dry Humping/Thigh Riding, Two Idiots In Love Making Out In A Car, Oral (M&F Receiving), Titjob, Cum Play, Fingering, Sexting/Nudes/FaceTime sex, Mutual Masturbation. 18+ only, no minors.

TAGLIST: @littlelioncub43, @whatinthestyles, @filthy-gorgeous, @justile, @valhalla-kristin, @elrw24, @janaev4ns, @ysmmsy, @ronearoundblindly, @in-umbra-gratia, @vayollie, @thornsnvultures

*Taglist is open to 18+ readers (no blank blogs) who comment, reblog, and/or chat with me via asks. If you just want to read lowkey, that’s cool and you do you, but the taglist is reserved for the lovely people who want to interact with me and my story :)

Series Masterlist

Part Eleven

This week is going to be absolute chaos. You’re working extra shifts to cover for Jack and Betsy, who are visiting her parents to give them the good news of their engagement in person, and you thought maybe you’d get at least one night with Dennis, but when he arrived at work this morning, he’d learned that one of his coworkers had quit and so his week has gone from normal to crazy as well. You’re more upset than you probably should be—after all, it’s only five days—but as Monday drags on, that feels like an eternity.

You try to focus on the fact that this weekend you’ll be having your first sleepover at Dennis’s place. You always take Badger out of town to your parents’ house over 4th of July weekend because fireworks give him horrible anxiety and your parents’ HOA strictly forbids them, so your plan is to drop him off with them on Friday, stay the night, and then head back bright and early Saturday to help Dennis get ready for the barbecue. You know he’s nervous about it—especially because he doesn’t really have close friends of his own to invite—but as he kissed you goodnight last night, he swore to you that he really does want to do something for the holiday.

“I can't remember the last time I even went to a party, nevermind had one of my own,” he’d said. “It’ll be fun. Everything is fun with you.”

If you can just get through this week, you know you’ll be rewarded handsomely, but you’re addicted to Dennis now and you don’t know how you’ll survive five whole days without him. You try to focus on work but you’ve been replaying last night in your head all day. You hadn’t expected that from him. You’d figured that Dennis’s first time going down on you would be awkward for both of you—you with your insecurities and him with his own, distracting the both of you and making it hard for you to finish. All that aside, he’d made it sound like you were going to have to teach him everything, and you absolutely would have (and done so with all the patience and kindness in the world), but turns out he didn’t need that much instruction at all. It makes you smile thinking about Dennis reading sex-tip articles, a look of deep concentration on his face as he committed everything to memory. Thinking about him watching videos, though… that makes you feel a different way entirely. The thought of Dennis watching porn and thinking about you—the things he wants to do to you, the way he wants to make you feel—has you clenching your legs under your desk.

Five fucking days. This is going to be hell.

You somehow manage to make it to your break in between your day and night shift, and you call Dennis to check in as you walk to the pizza place a few blocks away. He picks up on the second ring, like he’d been sitting there waiting for you to call.

“I was just thinking about you,” he says.

“Oh yeah?” you reply. “And what exactly were you thinking about?”

“How good you taste.”

His voice is low and gravelly and your whole body is buzzing with yearning.

“Dennis, you can’t say shit like that when you know I can’t see you,” you say. “You’re being so mean right now.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” You can tell by the gleeful tone of his voice that he isn’t. “I could come by for lunch tomorrow…”

A brief mental picture of Dennis sweeping all the shit off your desk, laying you down on it, and burying his head between your thighs flashes through your brain but you shake your head to get rid of it.

“I have a lunch meeting with the ASPCA rep tomorrow. And you’ve got your appointment with Dr. Porter on Wednesday night, right?”

“I could cancel,” he says.

“No,” you insist. “That’s important. And besides, I think the Doc would probably have something not so nice to say about me if I let you cancel your therapy session for a date.”

“He definitely would. And you’re working Thursday night again and then off to your parents’ place Friday, right? Fuck. I just… I really want to see you this week.”

“I do, too.” You can hear the whine creep into your voice but you can’t help it. You want to stomp your feet and throw a tantrum like a toddler. “This sucks.”

“It really does,” he replies, “but we can talk and text and maybe even…”

He trails off but you think you know where he was going. “Maybe even what, Dennis?”

“Nothing,” he says, coughing to clear his throat. “Nevermind. I gotta run. Boss just came by with another stack of Gary’s work for me to take home with me. Call me later?”

“Dennis…”

“Just… call me later, sweetheart. Bye.”

“OK, bye.”

You hang up and grab yourself two slices and a soda to bring back with you, and as you eat at your desk, all you can think about is that “maybe even…” and how much you want to hear him finish that sentence. You know exactly what he means, of course, and you’re completely down. After all, you and Dennis had exchanged a few racy texts before, and if you’re going to make it through five whole days, you’re going to need something to see you through.

By the time the overnight staff arrives, you’re practically asleep on your feet, and you shoot Dennis a text on your way out to your car.

Y: Leaving now. I’ll text you when I get home. Don’t want to wake you if you’re sleeping.

You get a response almost immediately.

D: I’ll be up. Call me when you get in.

The apartment is quiet when you get home; the only sounds are Badger snoring from your bedroom and Mal’s white-noise machine indicating that she is actually home and in bed early for once. You toe your shoes off at the door and read the note she left for you telling you that Badger is all set with his walk and nightly business, and when you get to your room you give Badger a scratch behind the ear (ignoring his grumpy Bitch I’m Sleeping growl) before changing into a tank top and clean underwear. You should shower the day off you but you’re just too fucking exhausted to do anything but crawl into bed and call Dennis to say goodnight.

“Hey,” he says.

“You didn’t have to stay up,” you reply. “It’s after midnight.”

“I wanted to hear your voice. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too, but I’m so fucking tired.”

“That’s a shame,” he says, a hint of mischief in his voice.

You laugh. “I want to, but not tonight,” you say, and you hear him whine.

“Please?” he begs. “You’re gonna make me do this all by myself?”

“I’m sorry, baby,” you say, a big yawn hitting you mid-sentence. “I just can’t even keep my eyes open.”

“Alright,” he says, his voice soft and sweet. “Go to sleep, sweetheart. Call me in the morning.”

“I will.”

“Oh, I know you will.”

You don’t get a chance to question him before he hangs up, and you’re too exhausted to even think clearly, so you just put the TV on low, hit the pillow, and pass out. When you wake, it’s almost 9:30—way later than you usually sleep even on days after you pull a double. Badger is standing over you looking miffed that his morning piss and breakfast have been delayed.

“Sorry, buddy,” you tell him. “Mama was tired.” He nudges your arm with his snout and you laugh. “OK, OK, I’m up.”

You throw on some sweats and a t-shirt and take Badger for his morning stroll, and once he’s done with breakfast, you grab your phone to call Dennis. Before you have a chance to call, you see you have a text from him that wasn’t there before you left for Badger’s walk, and when you open your text chain, you see it’s not a message but a video; the thumbnail is R-rated and well on it’s way to X.

He didn’t. Oh my God… he did.

You throw the living room TV on for Badger and rush into your bedroom, shutting the door behind you, and then you hit play.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” you hear Dennis say, but all you can focus on is the tented sheet in his lap. He pushes it down his thighs, revealing his massive cock in his hand as he strokes it slowly. “I wish you were here with me. Miss you so fucking much. Miss having your pretty lips wrapped around my dick.”

“Holy shit,” you say out loud to no one.

Even though Mal is at work, you grab your headphones so you can hear the deep timbre of his voice as loud as possible in your ear. You lay back on your bed and crank the volume all the way up, and the rumble of his low moans has you spreading your legs and shoving one hand down your sweats and underneath your panties.

“Been thinking about your perfect little pussy all day, baby. Got so fucking hard at work.” He squeezes his bulbous tip and you watch the precum drip out before he gathers it between his thumb and forefinger and smears it all over his head. “I want you so bad, sweetheart. Wanna see your pretty face when you cum for me again.”

He grabs a bottle of lube from somewhere off-camera and squirts a generous amount on the tip of his cock, letting it drip down the length of him before grabbing himself by the base and stroking it up and down. His hand is a blur on the screen and the schlick schlick schlick of his lubed-up strokes has you rubbing your clit in quick circles. You don’t even know where to look: his thick, muscular thighs, his abs tensing and relaxing as he moans and groans, his pecs bouncing just a tiny bit in time with his strokes. His body is absolutely sinful and—as you can hear him telling you—it’s all yours to do with whatever you’d like.

He tugs and massages his balls as he licks his lips, his neck veins straining so hard you think they’ll burst as he throws his head back and moans, “God, I can’t wait to fuck you. Just want to be inside you, sweetheart. So fucking deep inside. Oh, fuck.”

Just thinking about having that big, beautiful cock in your guts is enough to bring you to the edge, and as Dennis strokes himself to completion, your name on his lips as white ropes of cum paint his abs, you speed up your own ministrations and cry out through gritted teeth. Your chest is heaving along with Dennis’s as he comes down, rubbing his spend into his skin. You wish you could lick him clean, wait the .5 seconds it would take for him to get hard again, and then ride his cock until your body breaks in half but you can’t.

Four fucking days.

“Talk to you in the morning, sweetheart,” he says, and then the video cuts.

As soon as you can get a grip on yourself, you call Dennis.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he says, and you can hear the amusement in his voice. “Did you get my present?”

“I honestly don’t even know what to say,” you reply.

You can feel his vibe shift through the phone. “Shit… should I not have-”

“No, no,” you tell him. “You definitely should have. That was so fucking hot. Like… do you have a secret OnlyFans that I don’t know about?”

Dennis laughs. “No. That was just for you. I don’t know what got into me last night. I’m sorry if it was too much, I just-”

“Dennis, stop. I loved it. I just came so hard watching it and I’m probably gonna watch it, like, 100 more times this week until I get to see you again.”

“I can make you another one. I mean, if you want…”

“Yes,” you say. “I want. I very much want.”

Dennis chuckles and you know that he’s blushing and you just feel so lucky to have found this sweet, sexy guy that can go from being the biggest dork to the sexiest hunk of man you’ve ever seen in your life and back again in seconds.

“Hey, Dennis?” you ask.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t care how tired I am after work tonight. You. Me. Facetime.”

***

Four days. Four more days before he can get his hands on you. Dennis had been a little nervous to send you that video, but if he can’t be with you, he wanted to show you exactly how much he wants to be with you. He’d never done anything like that before, but something about you just makes Dennis think things and do things he never would have dreamed about before you walked into his life and shattered the picture he’d had of himself. Dennis thought he knew who he was, and it was a person he didn’t particularly like: a weak man, afraid, powerless. Now, though, he isn’t so sure. It’s scary, this journey of discovering himself—at his age, a man should have a pretty good idea of who he is—but after meeting you, he realizes he has no idea who Dennis Baker actually is. He’s starting to see just how much outside influences have shaped his opinion of himself and the way he lives his life. It’s terrifying and exciting in equal measure to know that maybe he can be whoever he wants to be with you.

And he knows who he wants to be. He wants to be a strong, confident man who isn’t afraid to show you how much he wants you, who isn’t afraid to tell you how much he loves you—the type of man who would believe you if you say you love him, too. He wants to be the type of man you want to marry and start a family with, the type of man you would never get tired of loving. He wants to be the type of man who can tell you all these things—and he’s close now, he can feel it.

But this week isn’t the week. He isn’t about to tell you he loves you through a fucking text message or call or even FaceTime. No, he wants to tell you with your beautiful face just inches from his, because he knows you feel it, too. He knows you’ll say it back. He needed that bit of reassurance from Mal to fully know, but he knows now and it’s killing him to have to wait.

Four more days.

It’s about 5:30 and Dennis is wrapping up his day, packing up all of the extra work he’s got to take home with him since Gary’s abrupt departure. He liked Gary, too. He was one of only a few people at work he would consider anything close to a friend—not that they ever really hung out, but he was a nice guy, invited him into his Fantasy league (which for a long time has been his sole source of social interaction), and they could shoot the shit about baseball and the boss being a dick and all those surface, bullshit things that you talk about with a work friend. The extra work is just the icing on the cake of Gary leaving, but it isn’t anything he can’t handle. Putting in the extra hours this week wouldn’t have bothered him in the slightest before he met you, but now every second he spends doing Gary’s job is a second away from you and it pisses Dennis off a little.

He’s about to text you to see how your lunch meeting went when his phone dings. He smiles because it’s you, but when he opens your text his smile fades and his mouth drops open as a deep guttural sound bubbles up from somewhere in his chest. You’ve sent him a series of pictures, each one more titillating than the last. He recognizes your office as the backdrop of all of them, and in the first, it’s you in just your bra and jeans. In the second one, the jeans are gone and you’ve got skimpy little panties on that match your bra. In the third one, the bra is gone, and the fourth…

“Fuck me,” he moans under his breath, taking in the sight of you bent over your desk, your gorgeous ass on display with just a sliver of pussy to tease him.

Dennis grabs his things and practically sprints to his car, holding his backpack in front of him as he goes so that none of his colleagues notice the growing tent in his khakis. The second he gets the door closed, he grabs his phone and pulls up that fourth picture, zooming in to get the best look he can at that heavenly place between your legs. There’s about a million things he wants to say to you right now—all of them absolutely filthy—and he doesn’t even know where to begin.

D: Jesus Christ I almost just came in my pants in the middle of my office

Y: Poor baby. Just giving you a taste of your own medicine…

D: Why don’t you ditch work and come give me a taste of something else?

Y: Can’t. You’ll just have to make me another video…

D: You’re a real bad girl taking nudes at work

Y: Come punish me then

D: That why you bent yourself over the desk? You need a spanking?

Y: That’s exactly what I need. That and your big fat cock in my mouth.

D: How am I supposed to drive home like this, huh? You’re killing me, sweetheart. Please let me come see you.

Y: Can’t. FaceTime later. Gotta go xoxo

“Christ,” he says to himself. “Four more days. Four more days.”

He repeats it like a mantra, wiping his brow because he’s actually sweating now and he has no idea how he’s going to get home with the massive erection that’s threatening to tear through his pants. He’s trying to push all thoughts of you out of his head in the hopes it will settle down when he gets a call from the Boner Killer herself. In any other circumstance, he would have let it go to voicemail, but he decides to pick up, if only to rid himself of his increasingly painful erection.

“What do you want, Karen?”

“Listen,” she says, her faux-regretful tone an unpleasant reminder of just how many times this has played out before, “I want to apologize for the way I acted the other day. I was just angry and I didn’t expect you to have… company. So, yeah, I’m sorry, but we need to talk about this alimony situation like adults, Dennis. I know you’re mad at me, but that doesn’t give you the right to cut me off.”

Dennis sighs: another fake apology after another drunken outburst in a bid to get what she wants from him. Same shit, different day—but it’s not the same now. Now Dennis has a reason to push back, to fight for his own happiness.

“Look, Karen, I appreciate the apology and all but I’m not doing this anymore. We’re going to court and the judge is going to decide. If the court says I have to pay, I will, but I’m going to fight like hell not to because you don’t deserve another goddamn cent from me. I want you out of my life. For good.”

“This is about her, isn’t it?” she spits, voice dripping with malevolence—there she is, the real Karen, it never takes long. “You don’t actually think she likes you, do you? Please tell me you’re not that stupid.”

“No, Karen, I don’t think she likes me. I think she loves me, and I love her, and I’ll see you in court.”

Dennis hangs up, more determined than ever to tell you how he feels. If he could say it to his demon of an ex-wife and believe it, he knows he can say it to you. He shoots an email to his lawyer, asking after the court date, and heads towards home. All he wants in the world (besides for you) is to take Jax for a nice long after-dinner walk around the neighborhood and think about how exactly he’s going to tell you.

Work clothes exchanged for his sweats and a t-shirt, Dennis walks Jax around the neighborhood, taking the longer route and letting his pup sniff leisurely as he has a good think. He knows he wants to tell you on Saturday, after the 4th of July party is over and everyone has gone home and he finally finally has you alone. Dennis knows you’re staying over that night but he tries not to put any pressure on himself about what that might mean. Of course he wants to have sex with you and he’s pretty sure you want to have sex with him, but he has to give himself some grace—leave room for the possibility that it might not feel right, or he might not be ready, or you might not be. He doesn’t want to force it; he wants it to happen organically, to feel as natural as waking up in the morning, but he knows that’s impossible—that of course there are incredibly high expectations on both sides and the first time probably won’t be some sort of magical, soul-stirring experience. He can hope, though, and he can be prepared.

Even though you were candid about the fact that you’re on birth control for your cramps, he’d bought some condoms anyway. He’d got himself tested after Karen told him she’d been fucking around on him and his results were all negative (and he hasn’t been with anyone since) but he doesn’t know about you and he can’t bring himself to ask. It wouldn’t matter to him, of course, and he knows that he should just have the conversation ahead of time like adults and go from there, but he’s just got so many other things going against him when it comes to sex that he can’t add one more awkward conversation to the mix. He’s operating under the assumption that, when and if the time comes, he will use protection, and he’s more than happy to wrap it up if it means he gets to be inside of you. It’s not what he thinks about when he thinks about fucking you, though. He thinks about fucking you raw and pumping you full and watching you drip with him. It’s what he thought even before he knew you were on the pill, and if you’d let him, he would do it even if you weren’t. But that’s another conversation—one he knows he has to have with you but that he’s not ready for.

Because Dennis wants a family so desperately; he always has. Karen pretended to want the same thing but, like everything else, it was all bullshit. Once they got married, it was all “let’s wait a little while” and then a few years later it was “I never wanted kids—you knew that.” She actually managed to convince him that he’d misunderstood her, that she had always been honest with him about her lack of desire for motherhood. He understands now, thanks to Dr. Porter, that it was textbook gaslighting, but for a long time he thought it was his own fault he wasn’t a father.

Dennis doesn’t know what he’ll do if you don’t want to have children because it’s one of the few non-negotiable things he needs from a relationship. He doesn’t care in the slightest if he has a biological child or an adopted child; he just wants to be a dad. It’s one of the things he knows he needs to discuss with Dr. Porter tomorrow and he’s dreading it, but he feels in his heart that you want the same thing as he does. He’s never met someone with more love to give than you, never met someone so patient and kind and caring, but Dennis doesn’t want to make assumptions—not every woman wants to be a mom, and that’s perfectly ok. He just can’t put his heart and soul into one that doesn’t. Not again.

But he’s getting way ahead of himself—thinking about marriage and babies when he hasn’t even voiced his feelings for you. He has to tell you he loves you, but how? The over-the-top cheesy romantic in him thinks briefly about a fireworks display, but that would be a nightmare for Jax (who will probably already be freaked out by whatever the neighbors have going on) so Dennis quickly axes that idea. He wants to do something, though. He wants to make it special. He wants you to know that he’s felt it for a long time—that it’s not just something he spits out without thinking.

By the time he returns home with Jax, he’s still coming up empty, but if he has to wait four—well, basically three—more days to see you, at least that gives him time to come up with something perfect. Because it has to be perfect. It has to be, because you are and it’s what you deserve. He’s run out of time to focus on it now, though. He needs to get his/Gary’s work done so that he can cut out a little early for his appointment with Dr. Porter tomorrow. He fixes himself a little something to eat—the lemon spaghetti you’d taught him to make, which is his new favorite thing in the world because it’s delicious and reminds him of you—and then he gets to work with ESPN droning on in the background and Jax napping next to him on the couch.

He finishes up around 10 and takes Jax for a quick night walk before getting ready for bed. He knows he’s gonna have to wait for you a while—the overnight crew doesn’t start until 11:30 and you won’t be home before midnight—but even though he’s exhausted, all it takes is a few moments studying the pretty pictures you’d sent him earlier to have him wide awake. He lets Jax up on the bed and scrolls Netflix, deciding to start watching Schitt’s Creek because you’d told him it’s one of your comfort shows. He’s on the third episode when you finally call.

“Hey, baby,” you say, and Dennis doesn’t know what to focus on—all he ever wants to do is look in your eyes, but you’ve got your phone tilted so that your tits take centerstage, and he can see your nipples through the sheer baby-pink bra you’re wearing. “You have a good night?”

All Dennis can say is “Fuck me.”

“I’m trying to,” you reply, panning your phone down so he can see your matching panties—if you could even call that miniscule scrap of fabric that. “You like?”

“Sweetheart, I love. But you know you don’t have to dress up for me.”

“You want me to take them off?” you ask, and Dennis doesn’t know what to say—because of course he does, there’s nothing better than you totally naked—but also you look so fucking cute in this pretty pink set you’ve chosen to wear for him: it’s somehow innocent and sinfully sexy at the same time, just like you.

“Keep them on,” he says. “You look so fucking gorgeous, baby,” Dennis says.

The hand not holding his phone reaches down to pull his cock through the hole in his boxers, and you notice, because of course you do.

“Lemme see it,” you plead. “Please? You know how much I love it.”

“You really do, huh?” he responds, and you nod. “You really love my dick that much?”

“I’d do anything for your cock, baby. Anything. Tell me what you want me to do.”

Dennis takes a moment to think about it because there are various scenarios running through his mind right now and he doesn’t know which one to pick. He decides to have you recreate the position you were in earlier because oh did he like that.

“Turn around,” he says. “Shake your ass for me.”

“So you liked that last picture, huh?” Dennis watches as you get your phone into position on your nightstand before crawling back up on your bed and sitting back on your knees. “Thought you might.”

“It was a fucking tease is what it was.”

“You want more?” you ask, running your hands up your body.

“I want everything,” he replies. “Show me.”

You flash him a naughty little smile as you reach behind you and unclasp your bra, holding the cups (as if they really hid anything at all) before you slowly let the garment drop. Dennis groans as you roll your nipples between your fingers and take your bottom lip between your teeth. He’s got the base of his cock in a death grip and its already throbbing in his hand before you even turn around. When you do, you get on all fours and look over your shoulder as you wiggle your ass at the camera. Only the tiny fabric strip of your G-string is keeping Dennis from getting exactly what he wants.

“You like that, baby?” you ask.

“Fuck yes. Now take your panties off, sweetheart. Nice and slow for me.”

You rise up on your knees and slide them down slowly as requested, only it’s painfully slow and it seems like an eternity before you’ve got them down to your mid-thighs and you’re bent over again with your knees spread wide.

“God, I love your pussy. So fucking pretty. Spread it open for me.”

You press your face to the bed and reach around on either side of you, and Dennis moans as you spread your lips apart and start to throw it back and forth slowly. Dennis starts to stroke himself at the pace you’re setting, imagining himself behind you as you fuck yourself on his cock.

“I’m so fucking wet for you Dennis,” you moan.

“I see it. Fuck. I just wanna taste you, baby.”

“Soon,” you say. “Tell me what else you want.”

“Wanna watch my dick slide in and out of that gorgeous fucking pussy, all soaked in you. God, I need to fuck you, sweetheart.”

“I need it, too, Dennis. I need your cock so bad. I feel so fucking empty.”

“Turn around,” he says. “On your back. Wanna watch you play with that pretty little pussy until you cum.”

You grab two pillows and place them at the end of the bed, laying back against them and spreading your legs for him again.

“Lemme see your cock, Dennis. Please.”

Between the sight of you splayed out so beautifully for him and the urgent need in your voice, Dennis’s skin feels like it’s on fire he angles his phone down to give you the look you’ve been begging for. He grips the base and pushes it forward a little, and you make a hungry little mmmph sound when it twitches and jumps back a bit in his hand.

“You’re so fucking big and thick, baby,” you say as you start to circle your clit. “What if I can’t handle you?”

Dennis knows you’re just dirty talking him but he can’t say it isn’t a concern of his. He knows his dick is big, even if he doesn’t quite know what to do with it, and you were so tight around just his fingers that he’s legitimately scared he might hurt you. But he’s done his research—the importance of foreplay and lube, the best positions to make you comfortable and put you in charge of how deep he can go. The last thing in the world Dennis wants is to hurt you in any way, in the bedroom or out of it, and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep from doing so.

“I’m gonna take good care of you, sweetheart,” Dennis promises. “Gonna go nice and slow, stretch you out with my fingers first, make you cum on my tongue, get you nice and juicy and ready for me.”

“I’m ready for you now,” you say, working your clit harder and faster as your hips start to jerk a bit. “God, I wish you were here.” You grip your breast in one hand as you move your other hand from your clit to your entrance, slowly sliding two of your fingers inside. “My fingers are so fucking small compared to yours. Fuck, I need you, Dennis. Please.”

Dennis strokes his cock faster as he watches you fuck yourself on your fingers. “You’re so fucking sexy, sweetheart. Keep going.”

“I don’t know if I can cum without you,” you whine. “I need more.”

“You got any toys?” Dennis asks, desperately hoping that you do because he would kill to watch you fuck yourself with something bigger than your fingers.

“I have a vibrator,” you reply.

“Get it.”

Dennis watches your breasts sway up close as you pull your vibrator out of the drawer in your nightstand. He’s slightly disappointed to discover that it’s something small and egg-shaped and not something he can watch you fuck yourself on—he doesn’t know much about the different types of sex toys except that, according to Karen, they were all better than him—but he’s still absolutely salivating at the thought of watching you use this thing on yourself.

You turn it on and the sound is surprisingly low as you tease your entrace with it. When you bring it to your clit, you throw your head back and curl your toes and shout, “Fuck.”

“That good, huh?” Dennis asks, his eyes locked on your face as it twists up in pleasure.

“Yes,” you whisper. “Oh, God, Dennis. I’m gonna cum soon. Talk to me. Tell me how you wanna fuck me. Please.”

Dennis decides that, for the purpose of talking you through your orgasm and because he is almost ready to bust himself, he’s just going to let his inhibitions go and tell you exactly what he wants to do to you. None of it is realistic, of course; he doesn’t know if he can do any of these things (and he certainly can’t do them yet), but when he fantasizes about the ways he wants to fuck you, he doesn’t have to be realistic.

“I wanna fuck you from behind,” he begins, “hard, and I wanna watch your pretty ass bounce as I give you those long, deep strokes that have you clawing at the fucking sheets and screaming my name. I want to fuck you so good you can’t think, can’t fucking breathe, and then I wanna flip you over and throw your legs over my shoulders and bend you in half and fuck my cum so deep into you that you’ll be leaking me for days.”

“Oh, fuck. Oh my God. Yes. Yes. Keep going. I’m so fucking close.”

“I’m not gonna stop, either,” he continues. “You know I’ll get hard again when I’m still inside you and I’ll just keep fucking you and fucking you until you can’t cum anymore, and then I’ll make you cum one more time just because I can.”

“FUCK.”

Dennis watches your thighs tremble as you cum on your toy, your eyes staring straight at the camera—at him—and your mouth open wide with the sweetest sounds coming out of it. That’s all it takes to finish Dennis off, and as he shoots a load onto his stomach he thinks to himself that he’ll never get tired of looking in your eyes when you cum.

“Jesus Christ,” you say, chest heaving as you pull yourself up onto your knees and then flop down on your stomach, grabbing the phone from the nightstand. “You’re, like, really good at this, you know that?”

“I’m discovering new talents with you,” he replies, feeling a little smug, if he’s honest with himself, because he really is kinda good at this, huh?

“Three more days, baby,” you say.

“Three more days,” he replies.

PART TWELVE >>>

#dennis baker fanfiction #dennis baker x reader #dennis baker x you #dennis baker #chris evans #chris evans characters #take me home series

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drvirgus · 5 months

Text

Commitment & Responsibility

Yeji X Fem! Reader

Description: The life of Yeji and her Girlfriend Yn

Warnings: G!P Yeji, Smut, Angst

Epilog:

My cheeks flushed as I looked at the older woman. I was picking her up from her home after leaving Alex with Yuna and Ryujin. Yeji had just opened the door, her face lit up as she saw me. My heart couldn't handle it. She was just too adorable...

Today, we had a date...

A few weeks had passed since I asked Yeji out on a date, but her schedule had been a mess as usual. Plus, Alex fell ill when we initially planned the date. We both spent the entire night tending to him, which made him a bit more expressive as he dealt with his feelings due to his fever.

But now was the day of our long-awaited date.

"Hey," I said with a smile, which made Yeji smile back. Her hands wrapped around mine as she looked straight into my eyes. My heart couldn't handle this. She was just too sweet.

"I know it's just the beginning of our first date... but I can't help it," she whispered with a smile on her face. She was inching closer to me.

I exhaled happily. I moved closer too, connecting our lips. The kiss was gentle, almost timid. Filled with emotions - the sorrow and regret of being apart for five years, the joy and happiness of finding each other again. And yet, the kiss felt both nostalgic and new.

After a while, we pulled away. Slowly, I opened my eyes. I smirked a bit as I looked into Yeji's face. Yeji also smiled and chuckled.

"Shall we go?" I asked with a broad smile. Yeji's eyes sparkled so beautifully, and it was driving me crazy. My heart couldn't take it. The older woman nodded and grabbed my hand, intertwining our fingers. She nodded again, "We can," she replied.

I led Yeji to my car and opened her door. She looked at me, a light shade of red spreading across her cheeks. I chuckled and waited patiently for her to get in. Unfortunately, I was too late. Yeji had already opened the door and was in the process of getting out. She stared at me for a while. She chuckled softly, got back in, and closed the door.

I smiled broadly and opened the door for her. Yeji chuckled softly again and got out. She looked at me. God... I loved the way she looked at me.

"Thank you," she whispered, placing a kiss on my cheek. I blushed wildly almost immediately. Together, we entered the building. Yeji's eyes widened, "An escape room?" she asked, a wide grin forming on her face.

I smirked knowingly and nodded my head. It didn't take long for an employee to come over and explain everything to us. Shortly after, he told the backstory of the room and allowed us to enter. Now, we were both inside this locked room.

"Okay. Let's start by searching everything," I said, and immediately we split up in the room. Every time we found something suspicious or a lock of some sort, we mentioned it.

We had 60 minutes, and we spent every single second thinking. In between, we flirted with each other, but I really wanted to finish this room.

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4 months later

I narrowed my eyes automatically as I had to laugh. Yeji and Alex were playing with a ball in the garden. Alex and I moved in with Yeji. I had thought about it a lot. Yeji had to clarify if it would be okay with Alex first. After all, he would be facing most of the changes.

But it seemed to be going well. We finally seemed to be a family. My heart sped up as I heard Alex laughing loudly. He had just thrown the ball onto Yeji's shoulder, forgetting about the ball. My eyes were fixed on the two. In my hand was a glass of wine.

My phone lit up as I took a sip from my glass. I grabbed my phone and unlocked it. My heart raced as I saw an article. Yeji seemed to have received it too. My eyes widened as I read the headline of the article. A dating article. Apparently, Yeji and I had been on multiple dates. Now, pictures were released of us holding hands and looking at each other. Thankfully, we made sure not to kiss in public. It only happened in the cinema so far.

My face turned worried. If it came out that Yeji was lesbian and had a child, it could ruin her career... After all, we were not in America... We were still in Korea.

"What's troubling your pretty mind?" the older woman asked, breathing heavily as she opened a water bottle and took a sip. I looked at her. I licked my lips and hesitated, "We need to talk, Yeji," I said quite seriously. Yeji looked at me. She hesitated.

"We're not breaking up," she said immediately, which shocked me a bit. I looked at the taller woman who sat down next to me with a smile. "No matter what you say now, we're not breaking up," Yeji stated, a smile on her face. However, I sighed and placed my wine glass on the table, my phone right beside it.

"Yeji, another article about your sexuality has come out," I said with a sigh. I looked at the taller woman. "I... I'm giving you an out. You don't have to be Alex's mother... you can be his aunt," I said with a sigh. But now, Yeji's forehead furrowed in anger. She shook her head.

"But I am his mother! I'm not his aunt," she replied, her voice a bit louder now. I immediately nodded my head. A small smile on my lips, "I know that, Yeji. Alex knows it too... but you don't have to tell the public," I said softly. Yeji, however, shook her head again.

"Y/N, I'm going to marry you. I won't deny you and our son! I don't care what happens to my career. I'm almost 30... I've been in this industry for almost 10 years. I don't care what happens to my career, but I will never deny my family," Yeji answered. Her forehead still creased.

"So don't worry, baby... Screw the articles. Let me just love you," the older woman said with a smile. I sighed, still unsure about the whole situation. Yeji grabbed my face. She looked deep into my eyes, gently smiling at me. She pressed her lips against mine.

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The air was electric with excitement as we stood backstage at the prestigious music awards ceremony. Yeji, my love, was a nominee tonight, and her nerves were palpable. I offered her a reassuring smile, my heart beating in tandem with hers. The moment of truth was drawing near.

As her category was called, I watched her step onto the stage, the crowd's cheers enveloping her. My heart swelled with pride as she stood there, a mixture of excitement and apprehension in her eyes. The applause thundered, and then, as the noise subsided, she raised her hand, signaling for silence.

"Thank you, everyone," Yeji's voice resonated through the venue. "Tonight, I'm here not only as an artist, but as someone who's always believed in being authentic and true."

A quiet anticipation gripped the audience.

"But tonight, I want to share something deeply personal with you all. I stand here not just as an artist, but as a mother, and as a member of the LGBTQ+ community."

The crowd's reaction was a mix of gasps, applause, and emotions running wild. Yeji's bravery was met with a flood of feelings from the audience.

"But beyond my music, beyond the spotlight," Yeji continued, "I've hidden a part of myself for far too long – my identity, my love, and my motherhood."

Gasps turned into whispers, and the atmosphere held a sense of vulnerability that I'd never witnessed at an awards ceremony.

"Tonight, I want to introduce you to Alex," Yeji's voice quivered with emotion as she looked backstage, revealing our son standing next to me. The shock and surprise on the faces of the crowd were palpable.

"He's the light of my life, my reason for striving to be better every day."

The applause that followed was a mixture of support and amazement. Yeji's confession was met with a resounding wave of love from the audience.

As the applause subsided, Yeji's gaze found mine, and for a fleeting moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only our connection.

"And now, Y/N," Yeji's voice was directed at me, "this journey of embracing my true self, of unveiling my heart, has shown me that life is too precious to be lived in shadows. I want to live each moment as honestly as I can, with you by my side."

My heart was pounding as she walked towards me, taking my hands in hers. The crowd's eyes were on us, witnessing an intimate moment between two people who had shared their lives in secret for so long.

"Y/N," her voice was steady but laced with emotion, "in sharing my truth with the world, I want to share my future with you. Will you be more than my partner? Will you be my confidante, my co-parent, and someday, my wife?"

Tears welled up in my eyes as I nodded, unable to form words, my heart singing with emotion.

"Yes, Yeji, a thousand times yes."

The applause erupted anew, joining our tears of joy. As Yeji slipped a ring onto my finger, the symbolism of our commitment resonated deeply. Our embrace was tender yet powerful, a testament to our love and to the strength it took to get here.

In that moment, amidst the stage lights and the cheering crowd, Yeji and I embarked on a new chapter. We stood there, not just as artists, but as partners, mothers, and a couple ready to face whatever came our way. It was a moment that transcended the awards, a celebration of love, courage, and a future that was finally ours to claim.

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The sun was just beginning to paint the sky with hues of pink and orange as Yeji and I stood at the airport, suitcases in hand, hearts racing with anticipation. This was the start of our honeymoon, a journey into a new chapter of our lives together.

"Can you believe we're actually doing this?" Yeji's voice was a mixture of excitement and disbelief. She intertwined her fingers with mine, her eyes reflecting the sunrise's colors.

I grinned, the feeling of her warm hand in mine grounding me. "I can't wait to spend these weeks with you, just us, no schedules, no interruptions."

As we boarded the plane, the realization that we were leaving behind our daily responsibilities sank in. Alex, our precious son, would be in Yuna's care. She had kindly agreed to look after him during our absence, and we couldn't be more grateful.

The flight was long but filled with shared laughter, stolen kisses, and moments of planning for the days ahead. We landed in a tropical paradise, the warm breeze greeting us like an old friend.

Our honeymoon villa was a breathtaking oasis, nestled by the crystal-clear waters. As we stepped onto the soft sand, I felt a sense of tranquility wash over me. This was our sanctuary, a place where we could be unapologetically ourselves.

Days turned into a blissful blur of exploring the island, lazy mornings spent tangled in each other's arms, and evenings watching sunsets that seemed to paint the sky with the same colors as our emotions.

One particular afternoon, as we lounged by the infinity pool, Yeji turned to me with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Remember that hidden lagoon the guide mentioned?"

I arched an eyebrow, intrigued. "The one he said only a few people know about?"

Yeji nodded, a secretive smile gracing her lips. "Let's go there tomorrow. Just you and me."

And so, the next day found us on a small boat, gliding through serene waters until we reached a hidden cove. As we stepped onto the powdery sand, the lagoon stretched before us, its emerald waters inviting us to dive in.

We swam, we laughed, and we basked in the magic of this secluded paradise. With the warm sun on our skin and the gentle waves cradling us, time seemed to stand still. It was a moment that felt like it belonged only to us.

As the sun began its descent, we reclined on the sand, the fading light turning the sky into a canvas of pinks and purples. Yeji rested her head on my shoulder, our fingers intertwined.

"This is perfect," she whispered, her voice a soft melody that matched the soothing rhythm of the waves.

I pressed a kiss to her forehead, my heart overflowing with gratitude for this moment and for the journey that had brought us here.

Our honeymoon was a symphony of emotions – love, intimacy, adventure, and relaxation. It was a time to deepen our connection, to create memories that would shape our lives together.

And as we eventually packed our suitcases to return home, our hearts were heavy with the weight of leaving paradise behind. But in the same breath, we knew that our love, stronger than ever, would be waiting for us on the other side, ready to face whatever the world had in store for us.

#itzy yeji #itzy x reader #itzy x you #itzy x yn #yeji x reader #yeji x you

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mrsaltieri-real · 8 months

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His Perfect Victim (Mickey Altieri x OC!Dahlia Levine)

Chapter Six: Textbook Victim (Mickey’s POV)

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: language, mentions of sex, stalking, stealing, mentions of murder, mentions of killing Dahlia, kissing, feelings, Mickey being a sick fuck, insight to Mickey’s obsession with Dahlia, mention of masturbation, etc

I know I said I was waiting till I finished chapter seven, but some of you are just so excited it makes me so happy to know that you guys love this series so far! Like, it means the world you don’t even know. So much love to everyone whose taking the time to read this series because man, it is so inspiring. Once again, big huge massive thank you to @bisexual-horror-fan for beta reading and editing this chapter dude! I really couldn’t do this without you. Love you a fuckton! <3

Also @lizey-thornberry you wanted to be tagged! Appreciate the love dude!

Let’s go!

Everything about her was utterly magnetic, but she had absolutely no idea of the impact she was having on me.

I knew why I was here, what my job was. If she knew what I was doing, she wouldn’t be happy with me, but I just can’t help myself. That’s the understatement of the fucking century, she’d hate me. Could I blame her if she did? No.

From the moment I saw her, I was enticed. I remembered before coming to Windsor College, seeing news articles about her and of course with what we had planned, I had to do my research.

It didn’t take me long to find out that Dahlia Levine was Stu Macher's cousin, though it took scouring through a lot of different websites and talking to some people obsessed with the Woodsboro murders to find out, as it hadn’t been in Gale Weathers shitty book. According to one guy, Dahlia’s family was insanely wealthy and paid off a fuck ton of people to protect their name and their image, but not their daughter. I’d seen a picture of her for the first time in one of the many chat rooms and God, she was beautiful. She was standing next to Stu in a family picture that had been almost entirely scrubbed from the internet, mid-laugh from something he himself had clearly said because the woman I assumed to be her mother did not look impressed by either of them.

She was fucking perfect. Too fucking perfect. I like to think I have an impressive vocabulary, but she makes it hard to find the words to describe her, nothing feels quite good enough.

I stared at that photo maybe a little too often, fisted my cock when looking into her big brown eyes and just like that, I needed her. I needed to kill her, slide the cold steel of my knife into her over and over again whilst looking into those damn brown eyes and watch the light fade out of them. I needed this more than I needed air to breathe, more than I wanted to kill Sidney fucking Prescott and her stupid group of fucking friends.

Then I saw her in person a few months before we were officially introduced.

I thought that this girl couldn’t be the same girl in the picture I’d been staring at all these months. Her eyes weren’t right, already lifeless, which honestly put me off. She never smiled, she never laughed. She hardly registered it when anyone acknowledged her. You know that phrase, lights on, nobody home? It’s like lights were off, and the house was abandoned, haunted by some barely there ghost.

I began subtly following her around campus, video camera in hand, deciding to track her. Although her days were basic, consisting of classes and visits to the library as well as the laundry room in her building, I felt myself becoming more and more connected to her over the weeks. I’d watch everything she did. I’d watch everything Randy and Sidney did too, but that was different, I didn’t have the same interest which I knew my predecessor's mother would not be at all happy about, but the fuck did I care? The killings wouldn’t be starting for a year and a half, and I needed a toy to entertain myself with.

But then? Oh, my fucking God, then I found out that Dahlia had died.

I’d been walking past the library where Sidney and Randy perched on the steps, talking to each other in clear yet hushed voices about the events of Woodsboro, which immediately caught my attention. I was good at hiding in plain sight, so I walked around the steps of the library and leaned against the wall, pulling a book out of my bag, so I could listen to Randy talk.

“She keeps saying she’s fine, Sid,” Randy had said, worried concern was evident in his tone, “But you’ve seen her, she’s not the same as before.”

“Well, are you surprised?” Sidney had whispered back, eyes locked on him as she said, “Stu did nothing, and she died-“ my brow suddenly creased, and my eyes narrowed as I listened on, “- after Billy stabbed her. Would you be okay if your cousin just stood by and let that happen?”

That just piqued my interest in her further.

Now, I can admit that I get a little… Obsessive, and at times it doesn’t come out in the best of ways. I’m usually able to channel that obsession, steal things that belong to the object of my extraordinary interests, but with her? It was never enough. Breaking into her dorm and stealing her notebooks? Her clothes? Her panties? Getting myself off to the thought of killing her with them clenched between my fingers? It was never enough. I had to know her, I needed to know her. I couldn’t stop thinking about how perfect she’d be, my perfect victim; the relative of one of the Ghostfaces who had not only died, but came back to life. What could be more ideal than that as a victim?

So I infiltrated myself into Sidney’s friend group, earlier than Nancy and I had initially discussed. Of course, she wasn’t happy, she thought I’d made myself “too available too fast” and they’d grow suspicious, but I don’t know if they were oblivious, in denial or just downright stupid because they pretty much welcomed me with open arms after I grew closer to Derek. I started talking to Randy in film class, playfully arguing about movies and cinema and harmlessly flirted with Hallie when I’d bump into her around campus, but she wasn’t who I wanted.

It was just like a game, like I was in my very own movie. It was fun, but I still wanted her, and I couldn’t help but wonder why she didn’t hang around with Sidney and Randy that often at the very least.

I’d seen her talking to Sidney whilst I was talking to some girl from my statistics class and I quickly brushed her off when their conversation ended, making her sigh irritably at my sudden lack of interest in her and flounce off in a huff, but I paid her no mind. Sid and I had plans for coffee, so when she waved to me, walking across the green I smiled at her as warmly as I could muster, reluctantly forcing my gaze away from Dahlia.

“Who was that?” I’d asked casually, gesturing loosely over to Dahlia’s retreating form headed for the library.

Sid glanced over her shoulder and I saw her smile sadly in her direction as she sighed, “That’s Dahlia.”

“That’s Dahlia?” I’d asked in careful surprise, ensuring my tone wasn’t overly fake. It was the first time I’d said her name out loud, and I couldn’t help but enjoy the way it rolled off my tongue, “You and Randy talk about her, but I wasn’t sure she was even real.”

“She’s…” Sid hesitated for a moment as she turned back to look at me before continuing, “Shy. She’s never quite moved on from what happened in Woodsboro, you know? It’s harder for her.”

“How come?” I asked, but of course I already knew.

Sidney pursed her lips, eyebrows furrowing a little as she briefly shook her head, clearly trying to change the subject, “It doesn’t matter. Are we getting coffee or what? Derek said he’s meeting us there.”

I ignored her attempt to divert the conversation, trying to keep my voice even as I continued, “You know, if she’s shy, maybe you should introduce her to us.” I suggested, walking alongside Sidney, whose face turned a little thoughtful. I grasped at straws and carried on, “Maybe her having friends that aren’t just you and Randy can help her move on, get her back to however she was before.”

Sidney looked up at me, head tilted a little to the side and her eyes narrowing. “What do you mean?”

“You said she never quite moved on from Woodsbro. And although I only saw her from a distance, she looked… Sad.” I replied smoothly. Damn, Sidney was a suspicious person. Of course, she had every right to be, but I knew I had to start being more careful. I couldn’t let the fact that I wanted Dahlia get in the way of my true purpose, from achieving what I was destined to achieve.

Shortly after, Sidney introduced Dahlia to everybody. And now, a few months later, here we were, Dahlia’s soft lips pressing against mine as she pulled herself up on her toes using my shoulders, and taking me completely by surprise.

I didn’t know what to do, I just froze. This wasn’t what I expected, not at all. I didn’t have feelings for people. I fucked them, sure, falling into bed or being on a couch, making them believe I was into them, sliding deep inside a soaked hole and taking advantage of vulnerability, being inside a person but not letting them back in was natural to me. I flirted, of course, led people on, played the game and enjoyed pulling people like puppets on strings, but her? Being here, feeling her warm soft body pressed against mine, tasting her, smelling her coconut scented shampoo, it was different. I felt my heart thud in my chest, felt the reserve of my confidence begin to fade.

Fuck, she had me already. It took a moment, but I kissed her back slowly, my hands pulling her closer to me by her hips. I felt her breath hitch slightly, and I couldn’t help but smile against her, my fingers moving to trail up the curve of her spine and leaving goosebumps in its wake.

She wasn’t a bad kisser, she just seemed so sweetly inexperienced, it was fucking intoxicating. God, I wanted to fucking teach her. I wanted to show her just how good her life could be until the day I inevitably ended it.

Something seemed to snap and quickly change inside of her as she suddenly stiffened before gasping into my mouth and gently pushing me away from her, pulling back with her eyes wide in horror and embarrassment as she looked at me and took a few steps back. Her hands falling to her side as she looked at my very evidently dumbstruck face, “I’m sorry! Oh my God, that was so stupid, I am so sorry!”

She began rambling, fast and almost incoherent as a stream of apologies left her, almost tumbling over each other in their haste to be expressed. I shook my head, unable to stop the amused smile taking over my face as I looked over her.

Her cheeks were stained a gorgeous pink, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how I could twist it, pink bleeds instead to the red inside of her, the scarlet that pumps through her veins, pushing, making her draw breath and live, would be even more beautiful, staining the steel of my knife. Fuck, she’d be absolutely ideal.

“Dahlia,” I spoke her name first, a pause followed before I asked quietly, making her eyes flicker up to mine before they fell on the ground again, “Was that your first kiss?”

She let out a small scoff, but her cheeks flushed even deeper and said nothing. Could this be any more perfect? The plan started churning endlessly in my mind. The potential future of us stretches out before me as if on endless spools of film reel, rolling in every which way, so many scenes, how many could be acted out? How many would make the cutting room floor?

I never pretended to be a good person, I’m not. Truthfully, I like Dahlia. I like how I was the only person able to bring back the fire she used to have inside of her, not even that fucking idiot Randy could do that, and they had been friends for years. Though, I really think he wants more, but that’s too fucking bad for him. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone as much as I want her. Looking at her, just so beautiful, so fucking vulnerable and pure, is when I knew.

It wasn’t like with Billy and Sidney, I didn’t hate Dahlia, I didn’t want revenge for anything. I like her, perhaps too much. I don’t know how to distinguish between liking or loving someone and obsession, to me the two were like two sides of the same coin. But there is one similar thing I did share with Billy.

I was going to have her, strip her from all the remaining innocence she had. Touch her, taste her, heal her, fuck the life right back into her before I thought it was time to take all of it away. I want to tear her apart. I want to piece her back together, fix her just to ruin her, be the one to end her, finish the job Billy fucking Loomis couldn’t.

The one thing, though, is she has to die. I don’t want to kill her for any reason but to fulfill her destiny and make people see her for who she is.

The absolute perfect, textbook victim. My fucking victim. She’d be immortalized, is that not what everyone wants?

“It’s okay, Dahl.” I laughed, taking a step toward her. She didn’t move, and her eyes refused to meet mine as I continued, “You want to pretend like it didn’t happen, that’s fine, we can carry on just being friends.”

This made her eyes look up into mine, so deep, warm brown like when the sun filters through leaves on trees in autumn before they fall and innocent it made my head spin, “Is that what you want? Do you really think we can be just friends?” She asked in a small voice. She looked so… innocent. If I’m being honest, she was utterly endearing. Her big brown eyes looked like pools of honey in the remaining light, deep and enticing.

The sun was beginning to set now, how long had we been out here? There wasn’t really anyone on the green anymore, just a few stragglers that may as well have been pieces of trash for all the attention I was giving them.

How should I play this?

“Honestly, I don’t think you and I are ever going to be “just friends”, Dahl.” I said truthfully, fingers raising in air quotations.

I heard her swallow, and she lightly shrugged her shoulders with a sigh, “I don’t know you, Mickey. Not really. Can’t we just forget it happened?”

Fuck, I loved the way she said my name. It sounded like music to my ears, and I couldn’t help but imagine her moaning and panting it into my ear. This girl was driving me fucking insane, yet she had absolutely no idea.

“No.” I responded simply, unable to stop looking at her lips as I took another step forward, hands moving to rest on her hips. Again, she didn’t move, but now her eyes were on me, like she was unable to look away from me too.

Chapter Seven HERE

#here she is!#chapter six #things are PROGRESSING #i love them #he’s really gonna do a 360 bro like damn #this is his frame of mind NOW #just wait #mickey altieri #dahlia levine #mickey altieri x dahlia levine #mickey altieri x oc #scream #scream 2 #his perfect victim

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littlejuicebox · 22 days

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A Pocket Full of Rainbows, A Star Up My Sleeve (1950s AU) / Chapter 1: The Drive In

Click here to read on AO3.

Summary: It's 1957, and for the first time in his life, Astarion Ancunin is happy. He's a newlywed, his spouse, Gustav Adler, is the editor-in-chief of the city's second most prominent newspaper, and they play keeping up with the Atherwindes next door. They are picture-perfect domesticity. Or so it seems. Secrets Astarion has kept hidden from his spouse begin to surface around their first anniversary, and Gustav is left to wonder... who exactly did he marry?

Tags/Warnings: This one starts off with smut (light BDSM if you squint and tilt your head) in Chapter 1 so there's that. This longfic will have a lot of hurt/angst/comfort + mild gore + mentions of Astarion's past trauma. I will update with a warning if there is a significant concern in any chapter.

Notes: Special thanks to @leomonae for beta-reading and holding my hand while I write this entire thing that has taken hold of me body and soul. And special thanks to all the awesome supportive people on my discord server that have hyped me up enough to give me the courage to post this.

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Cigar smoke spirals out of the barely cracked mahogany door and into the newsroom as the editor-in-chief, Gustav Adler, finalizes the layout for this weekend’s edition of the Baldur’s Herald. He’s running late — he should have been halfway home, by now. His wife is going to be furious with him if they miss the beginning of the movie.

But this story has a chance of finally getting the Baldur’s Herald ahead of the Baldur’s Gate Gazette; he has to get it just right. There is still more investigation to be done, of course, but no one can deny several missing persons and multiple eyewitness reports of a mindflayer in the lower city. It’s certainly enough to sell papers and promote intrigue.

The paper had gotten a decent boost when he’d been promoted to editor-in-chief a few years ago. The promotion of an openly gay man – a half-drow, nonetheless – to the position had garnered quite a bit of attention. Good and bad, of course. But as the saying goes, all publicity is good publicity.

In the Herald’s case, that had been true. The groundbreaking move had put the previously small paper on the map and quickly catapulted it to second place in the rankings, where it had been ever since. Tav was convinced it would only take one powerful story to overtake the Gazette; he felt confident the culmination of this story would be the one to do it.

A rapid knock on the door pulls Gustav from his work as he takes another drag of his nearly finished cigar; his top investigator, Karlach, is leaning against the door jamb.

“There’s been another mindflayer sighting. Dekarios is on the ground now, I’m on my way to meet him,” she says, her eyes alight with excitement. The tiefling had been chasing this story for weeks and finally had enough for her article to make the front page of this weekend’s issue.

“Excellent — I’ll be back in the office tomorrow morning, Kar. I expect an update then. I would go with you two, but the wife won’t forgive me if I cancel two weeks in a row,” Gustav responds as he extinguishes his cigar in the unfinished coffee that sat atop his desk all day.

Karlach chuckles good-naturedly as she straightens from the doorframe and moves to put on the suit jacket she’d been holding in her hand. “Tell Astarion I said hello; and thank him again for mending this for me.”

“Will do— oh, and Karlach, can you run this by the printers before you head out? It’s the final layout for the weekend edition,” the editor-in-chief says as he moves to exit his own office. He hands the mock-up to his journalist and heads out of the building for the night. In the parking lot, Gustav rushes to his car and hopes his wife isn’t too terribly upset with him for being a bit late.

Astarion had been Gustav’s secretary for nearly six months before he finally worked up the courage to ask the other man on a date. It was never easy for Tav, doing such a thing, although sexuality laws had changed in his early adulthood and it was common to see people just like him about the city nowadays.

He couldn’t have assumed Astarion was interested in men simply because he alternated between wearing suits and dresses – which had been, of course, one of the things that caught Tav’s attention and fascinated him early on. Astarion managed to look breathtaking in both; Gustav had never seen anything quite like him and spent more time than he should have admiring his secretary sitting just outside his office door. As it turned out, Astarion had been flirting with him for months; he had always worried he was misinterpreting the signals.

It wasn’t until Karlach hassled him for a week that Tav finally broke down and asked Astarion to dinner. They dated for just under a year, and married as soon as they were legally allowed – all legal documentation still required assigned roles of husband and wife, and in the public sense, these designations were required across the board. They’d randomly assigned titles with the flip of a coin.

It seemed ridiculous, in the beginning. Bureaucracy and politics could be so short-sighted; the world never seemed to dot all its i's and cross all its t’s before moving on to the next agenda. In public, the couple always used the assigned titles; at first, this had been mostly to avoid confusion or ignorant comments. But then one night, Gustav had jokingly called Astarion his “wife” and it had instantly ignited something within his lover. He’d never seen his spouse so excited in bed until that moment.

From then on, in public and in private, Astarion was his wife. The word just had different meanings depending on context. As an editor, Gustav could wholeheartedly appreciate the subtleties of the phrase; as a husband, he loved the effect the word had on his wife when they were in bed.

As Gustav pulls up to the brownstone townhouse he and Astarion share, he immediately notices the new gardenia shrubs and mulch surrounding the Atherwinde’s front stoop. A soft groan of annoyance escapes his lips; he’d planned to tend their own garden next weekend, but now he would have to move that project up. He was not about to let their annoying nextdoor neighbor, Edmund Atherwinde, throw subtle remarks at him for an entire week whenever they ran into one another while leaving for work. Gustav is almost certain Eddie waits to see when he comes out in the morning, just to harass him as they both climb into their Chevrolet Bel-Airs. Gustav’s is the most recent model; Eddie’s is last year’s model. Not that he’s comparing, of course.

He glances at his wristwatch; it’s twenty minutes past the time he was supposed to be home. They should still be able to eat dinner and make it to the drive-in. He grabs the bow-wrapped box from the backseat and then makes his way into the townhome.

A quick jangle of keys echoes through the short foyer before Gustav calls, “Astarion, I’m home!”

“You’re late,” a cool, clipped voice replies from the kitchen. “I’ve had to keep dinner warm in the oven for twenty minutes, Tav.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” Gustav responds as he moves to join his wife. He presents the box to Astarion with a toothy smile and a wink. “But, perhaps this will make it up to you.”

The scowl that had been painted across Astarion’s face soon pulls up into a grin as he takes the box from Tav. A quick tug of the black grosgrain ribbon reveals the present inside – a mink stole. A soft gasp escapes Astarion as he removes the fur shawl from the packaging and wraps it around his shoulders.

“Gorgeous,” Gustav compliments as he admires his lover. “I think it will go well with the gown you plan on wearing for our anniversary dinner.”

“Of course it will, darling,” Astarion responds before lifting onto his toes and pressing a kiss against his husband’s cheek, right upon the old scar Gustav got back in his military days. “It’s beautiful, thank you. Now, dinner, dear– and we’d better hurry.”

Dinner was nothing to write home about. Astarion was a fair to middling cook nowadays – in the beginning of their marriage, he’d burnt nearly every meal he made. Almost a year later, he’d managed to get the hang of a few simple recipes. Gustav, to his credit, never complained. All his time in the military taught him to accept far meager offerings than his wife’s creations; if he could eat cold beans from an aluminum can, he could handle a slightly charred meatloaf.

They made it to the drive in just as the last previews finished. Astarion had been exceptionally excited to see this film – a horror movie about vampires, of all things. Gustav was not particularly interested in the movie, but willingly endured for his wife’s happiness. Until, of course, Astarion pressed up against him a little over halfway through the film – an innocent reaction to the scene playing on screen – and gripped dangerously high on Gustav’s thigh.

Desire immediately flared through Tav, and when he turned to look at his wife, he wanted nothing more than to smear the perfectly painted red lipstick on the other man’s lips. So he did.

They were locked in a passionate kiss for several minutes, the movie all but forgotten. Their tongues wrapped around one another in a familiar embrace, a comfortable dance the two of them had become accustomed to. It did not take long for Gustav to begin advancing eagerly upon his wife.

“You’re insatiable,” Astarion chuckles as his lover playfully nips into his neck. A delighted shiver ghosts up his spine.

“Can you blame me?” Gustav asks as his lips trail to his lover’s chest, just exposed by the neckline of Astarion’s collared dress. His tongue swirls along alabaster skin before a sly hand moves under the skirt hem. “You’re delicious… and I’d very much like to have a taste.”

Gustav’s thick, purple-gray fingers run along the inside of Astarion’s pale, muscled thigh and travel all the way up to the edge of a sheer, nylon stocking. He quickly finds a garter strap, pulls, and releases the elastic band. Astarion jumps and gasps as the skin on his leg turns into gooseflesh; his husband palms insistently between his legs.

“S-surely you don’t mean here, Tav,” Astarion whispers, his legs spreading slightly, making more room to accommodate the hand teasing his hardening cock. But even as Astarion says it, he’s hoping his husband actually does mean here – the mere thought of such a scandalous act is causing arousal to dampen the front of his undergarments.

“Mmh, and why not?” Gustav asks, already beginning to slide from his seat, down to the floorboard. He wanders his hand down under the seat and pushes it back as far as it will go. It isn’t much, but enough for him to comfortably kneel between Astarion’s legs. He brings his hands to his wife’s knees and slowly presses them open with a sly smile.

“I…” Astarion tries to respond, his face suddenly feeling quite hot as a blush of both embarrassment and desire spreads across his skin. His mouth goes dry as he looks down at the man between his legs. Gustav is slowly pushing up the hem of Astarion’s skirt and peering up at his lover as he licks his lips.

“Do you want me to stop?” He questions, cocking his head just slightly. When his wife doesn’t respond, he begins to lower Astarion’s skirt; his purple-gray hand is suddenly caught between slender, milky-white fingers.

“Keep going,” Astarion quietly urges before casting a glance out the window. They’re in the final row of the drive-in. Only one other car is in the same row as them, and the couple in that car are far too distracted by one another’s mouths to pay any mind to the two men.

Gustav hums happily as he unceremoniously lifts Astarion’s skirt and drops his head underneath; he’s greeted with a pale, leaking cock straining against a pair of sheer, silk panties. The sight causes his own cock to stir in his trousers.

“Now be a good little wife and hold very, very still for me, baby,” Gustav commands with a final snap of Astarion’s garter strap. His wife gasps and squirms in his seat before obediently stilling. Tav doesn’t waste any more time with foreplay; his hands come under Astarion’s dress and quickly tear the underwear in two – he’ll buy a replacement pair later. Astarion’s cock springs proudly from its confines, bobbing slightly and begging to be sucked.

Tav brings both hands to the pale thighs on either side of his head as he pulls Astarion’s cock into his mouth. His tongue swirls around the head languidly, causing more pre-fluid to leak onto his tongue. The salty, musky taste makes his mouth water in delight. He’s certain he will never tire of tasting his wife.

A whimper escapes Astarion’s lips when his husband takes all of his length. Gustav’s warm, wet throat contracts around Astarion’s cock and then, much too soon, he retracts and begins to swirl his tongue around its pink, swollen head. Tav repeats this several times and each time his throat squeezes around Astarion, it takes everything within him to not buck upwards. His thighs are trembling. He so badly wants to move, to seek the heat of his lover’s mouth. But he wants to be a good wife, so he forces himself to obey the command.

The excited keening becomes louder and more insistent the longer Gustav teases him. By now the movie is almost over, and Astarion is catching flashes of the end scene through blurred vision and panting breaths. He clamps his eyes shut as Gustav, once again, swallows him to the hilt. This time his husband holds the position and hums, both hands squeezing into Astarion’s thighs.

“Aah, Tav–” Astarion whimpers, his tone pleading, “Tav, please–”

But Gustav retracts and his wife whines. He cannot help but smile at the neediness. He forces Astarion’s skirt up over his thighs, exposing his arousal-slicked face and his lover’s hard, weeping cock all at once. He peers up at his wife with a pleased smirk; Astarion meets him with half-hooded lids and blown pupils.

“Already, baby? Really?” Gustav purrs, one hand coming to caress Astarion’s scrotum. He applies a light bit of pressure and admires the way pre-fluid dribbles from his lover’s desperate cock. His tongue darts out to slowly lap up the string of clear liquid running down Astarion’s shaft. “I don’t think I’ve worshiped my wife quite long enough.”

Astarion impatiently squirms in his seat. He’d been doing a rather excellent job holding still until now, but the ache between his legs is growing increasingly insistent, and his husband has teased him long enough. When Gustav’s hands wrap around his cock he moans and his head falls back reflexively. The movie’s end credits are starting to roll.

“Please, Gustav… I can’t– I can’t any longer, please–” Astarion begs, through sharp shaking breaths. His hips stutter forward insistently into the other man’s fists.

“Very well,” Gustav responds, and with little warning he drops his hands and takes all of Astarion in his mouth again. Pale fingers clutch into Tav’s cropped white hair, pulling slightly just at the nape of his neck. He hums his encouragement as he bobs his head up and down the length of his wife’s cock, covering it in saliva and spreading the growing amounts of pre-fluid dripping from its tip.

Gustav can tell by the breathy keening sounds his wife is making that he is close to release. His own cock is straining within his trousers – but that can wait until they get home. The first orgasm always leaves Astarion desperate for more, anyway.

Tav swallows Astarion’s length once again, intentionally contracting his throat around the pale cock in his mouth. His wife bites back a moan and comes, hips thrusting up as warm seed spills down Tav’s throat. Astarion’s cock continues to pulse for a while longer, and Tav expertly swallows every last drop of his lover’s spend.

When he feels the other man’s fingers retract from his hair, Gustav carefully pulls back and releases Astarion’s slowly softening cock. He swirls his tongue around the tip one last time, forcing a final whimper from his lover before easing back and placing a few kisses against Astarion’s thigh.

“Darling,” Astarion pants as he runs his fingers through sweat-drenched curls. His lipstick is completely smeared across his face; he looks wrecked. “Take me home and make love to me.”

Gustav grins in response as he begins to climb back into the driver’s seat. Many of the cars in the lot have pulled away by now. “Anything for my beautiful wife.”

They crash through the townhome door, a mess of half-removed clothing and desire. Astarion shoves Tav against the front entrance as soon as it shuts behind them and grinds himself along Tav’s thigh. The rotary phone in the living room is ringing, but they pay it no mind.

Gustav quickly undoes the buttons of his wife’s dress and strips it from his body. He’s entirely naked underneath, save the garter belt and stockings – the ruined bits of underwear were left on the floorboard of the car. Astarion is undoing his husband’s belt buckle when the phone stops ringing; he moves to drop to his knees right in front of Tav, but he is quickly pulled back up.

“Not here on the tile, baby. It’s much too hard,” he murmurs as he guides his wife over to the carpeted living room. As soon as they’re in front of the couch, Astarion rips Tav’s trousers and undergarments off in one swift motion and then guides his husband to sit on the serpentine sofa.

“Now, darling, let me repay you for earlier,” Astarion purrs as his hands teasingly slide up his lover’s purple thighs. He’s just about to take Gustav’s cock in his hands when the phone begins ringing again; it’s a sharp, shrill, distracting sound.

Gustav groans in irritation. He quickly leans over to pull the handset from the stand and uses a finger to hang up on the caller. He tosses the receiver haphazardly, leaving it off the hook so that the phone will not ring and interrupt him and his wife again. It’s well past ten at night; whoever is calling can wait until the morning and call back then.

He turns his attention back to Astarion and smiles. Then, he reaches out and brings two fingers under his wife’s chin before he gently presses upwards. They meet one another with a slow, gentle kiss. When Gustav retracts, Astarion is staring up at him in wide-eyed adoration.

“Now, where were we?” Gustav asks. Astarion chuckles in response before wrapping two pale hands around the cock in front of him; it’s already leaking in anticipation as he slowly strokes up and down the length.

“I think we were just getting to the good part, my love,” Astarion murmurs, peering up at his husband through hooded lids before dropping his head to take Gustav between a pair of lipstick-smeared lips.

The phone stays off the hook for the rest of the night.

#astarion fanfic #1950s au #baldurs gate au #astarion au #astarion 1950s #wifestarion #house wife astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x male oc #astarion x male tav #astarion angst #astarion fanfiction #astarion modern au #astarion smut #bg3 smut #smut #male/male

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fiftysevenacademics · 1 year

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I just saw this article today and realized I've been doing this for years now to cultivate new good habits (or stop bad ones, if you prefer thinking of it that way). It really works!

If, like me, you're one of those "all or nothing" people, it's that exact mentality that makes it so hard to pick up a new habit when you're not super motivated. And what makes it so hard to stop a bad habit that you know is making you miserable.

What helped me was thinking of habits as a matter of neural pathways. I read somewhere it takes about 6 weeks to develop a habit because it takes that long to develop neural circuitry around the habit. Once I thought of it as a physical thing instead of a moral failure, it became very easy to start taking tiny steps instead of "I have to do the all the thing all at once, forever and if I slip up, all is lost." Just doing the smallest, easiest part of the thing, at a point that falls naturally or conveniently into my existing routines, is already building the neural connections to support that habit and over time they will strengthen and grow.

I can't stress enough the importance of celebrating when you finish each tiny step. For me, that usually is praising myself or reveling in a sense of accomplishment.

For example, I want to start keeping my house really clean but feel super resentful about having to waste a few hours of weekend time on cleaning. So I've started to clean one small part of the house very early every weekday morning after I walk the dog and before work. Some days, that's little more than doing the dishes if they were left overnight, or watering the garden. Other days, I do a lot more, like sweeping and mopping the entire house. Instead of noticing how much still needs to be cleaned and beating myself up for not doing more, I admire the part I did and feel great that I won't need to do that particular task for another week or more, depending what it is. Over the course of the week I clean the whole house and it usually looks nice all week. After doing this for a few weeks, it has become so much easier to just pick up a broom or a sponge whenever I notice a small mess that I'd normally wait until cleaning day to do. And I'm getting far less tolerant of mess and clutter as a result, starting to think of myself as the kind of person who keeps a tidy, organized household. If I keep this up for another month or so, it will feel natural, easy, and not even a bother to do.

It works with writing, too. Set a goal to write one paragraph a day, or as often as you think you can fit comfortably into your routines. Or one sentence if a paragraph feels like too much to start with. Focus on achieving the goal, not on the quality of what you write, at first. Some days, just getting that one sentence written might feel like a monumental accomplishment. Celebrate it! You did good. It will not always be that hard, I promise. Days when you do more than that will feel even more amazing. And over time, writing will become easier and more habitual as your brain grows around it.

#advice #habits #my stuff

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mdietzteach · 7 months

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October 9th

Titles:

Fisher, et. al. (2020), Chapter 2, “Whole-Class Reading Instruction: High-Level Support for Learning”

Sipe (2002), “Talking Back & Talking Over: Young Children’s Expressive Engagement During Read-Aloud Storybooks”

Take Aways:

Students must engage with teachers to truly grow in their reading and comprehension skills. Feedback and teacher modeling are critical to use in various capacities to develop strong literacy skills.

Engaging with stories through talking back and taking over allows students to more deeply engage with the story. The connection developed builds a bridge between the story and the child's real life.

Nuggets:

I really did not know the difference between read-aloud and shared reading. It was interesting for me to note that difference. I also considered shared readings to be something that was only done in small groups, but it can be very valuable in large groups as well.

When students interrupt during a read-aloud, it is not always a rude response. Their interaction reveals that they are connecting with the story on more than just a surface level.

Readerly Exploration: As I reevaluated my highlights in my readings for the week, I was surprised by how much information I was able to grasp. Both Sipe and Fisher discussed the value of annotating a text while it was being read, something I had underestimated. I tend to be someone who does highlight and annotate when I am reading a longer piece of text. If I do not practice this strategy, I struggle to remember all of the information I just tried to absorb. However, I find a different ending when using a highlighting technique. I had started reading the Sipe article a few days before I actually ended up finishing it, when I re-pulled it up, I was having a hard time remembering all that I had read. I was feeling like I may have to reread the entire article, but luckily, I had begun highlighting at my initial reading time. By looking back at those highlights, I quickly refreshed my memory and recalled the information. It was honestly surprising to me how easily I was able to remember the bigger picture of the reading, after just a quick recap of the highlighted pieces that I considered to be important to the overall meaning of the passage. As I consider that valuable skill, I look to work with my students to help them find ways to best understand a text by engaging with it in a way that works for them. Highlighting is crucial for my understanding of informational texts, if that was taken away, I know I would not engage in the same way. Similarly, students who blurt out or talk out of turn when the class is doing a read aloud uses what they have found to be a valuable skill to increase their knowledge of a text. We all interact with texts in different ways, and it’s important to be given the space and opportunity to do that.

Above is a screen recording of my reading of Lawerence Sipe's "Talking back and taking over: Young children's expressive engagement during storybook read-alouds". The highlighting represents important concepts and ideas from the tex

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certified-scoundrel · 8 months

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Plant Abuse: yay or nay?

an ongoing ‘scientific’ ‘study’ inspired by the hit book and tv series, Good Omens

WARNING: i may sound like an absolute wanker in this, as all of my knowledge of plant care, the scientific method, and other such things are based entirely on 3 things: my 9.5th grade level biology skills (.5 bc did some self studying for funsies), my 9th grade level chemistry skills (i took chem in 10th grade, im just not very good at it), and a fuck ton of googling.

yeah this post is gonna be a beast, so feel free to scroll to the end for a tldr (you will miss out on all of my absolutely hilarious jokes)

ever since i watched Good Omens, i was really curious as to whether or not yellingtalking to plants would actually help them grow. when i took to researching this, the articles were all over the place. one article would say ‘no, talking to your plants has no affect on them’; another article would say ‘yes, but womens voices are more affective than mens’; the article after that would say ‘yes, but you’d have to talk to your plant for hours for the vibrations to have any affect on them’. so, i decided to throw all common sense reminding me good omens is a fantasy story out the window and try this for myself.

now, im probably one of the literal worst people to try this out for many many reasons. one key issue is that i am extremely unintimidating. crowley scaring his plants into growing would definitely be a lot less affective if he was a 5’7 lanky teenager with joint problems. another, albeit more realistic reason, is my innate ability to fuck things up in the most random way possible. im not concerned about forgetting to water the plants or something like that, im concerned about somehow getting the plants so upset with me that they start a plant revolution and subsequent overthrow of my bedroom. obviously im being a bit hyperbolic, but its honestly just a bit. im like the main characters in a nickelodeon sitcom whos plans always go to shit even after they explain them aloud to each other.

however, despite all signs pointing me to put down my plant mister and finish my summer reading, i know what i was put on this earth to do: to be the reason there are ‘do not attempt this at home’ warnings on tv show’ and ‘for external use only’ labels on shampoo bottles. it is in my blood to beat the odds, to do things im extremely unqualified for, and to mirror the (sometimes questionable) things my favorite fictional characters do. It is time to metaphorically drink the apple-scented shampoo, and to finally settle this question.

now it is time to plan my experiment.

(most experiments have some sort of hypothesis, but im not like most scientists (im not one) so im skipping that. ill be leaving the hypothesizing up to you guys.)

once i get paid, im going to go to the nearest garden center to me and buy 3 matching houseplants and label them Plant A, Plant B, and Plant C. not sure what plants ill get, probably whichever ones are cheapest and the fastest growers, however once i have them i will do as much research as i can into how to care for them properly to avoid as many outside factors as possible. each individual plant will be placed in a separate room in my house, and treated nearly identically. I will do my best to keep things like water levels, sunlight levels, and things of that nature as constant variables. obviously, the independent variable will be how i treat the plants

~emotionally~

ill be completely silent when watering Plant A (Control). when i water the other the other two plants, ill spend a few minutes chatting with each plant. with Plant B, ill be kind to it, praise it, and other things of that nature; with Plant C, ill ridicule it, insult it, and so on. if the plants dont require daily watering (which i hope they wont), ill still pop in to talk to plants B and C every day. ill repeat this for however long i feel like, but at the end of every week ill take a picture of the plants to mark their growth and current state of wellness.

at this point, i can hear all of you saying ‘what the hell is wrong with this kid’. to that, i say: ‘that is a real loaded question, and im not sure you actually want an answer.’ i get it, just know. is this a stupid idea? yeah. is it the stupidest idea ive had? not by a long shot (see: drinking shampoo ‘joke’ referenced earlier)

TLDR: im going to buy 3 houseplants, keep one as a control, yell at one, and be nice to the other. every week ill take a picture of the plants to track their growth, and at the end ill compare all the photos to see how talking/yelling at your plants can affect their growth.

#Plant Abuse: yay or nay?#i spent an hour on this #i should be doing my summer reading #good omens #anthony j crowley #crowley #crowleys plants #experiment #good omens tv #good omens book #good omens season 1

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afterglow-tommylee · 1 year

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Chapter 28. Karma And Effect

Hollywood California, October 12 2002

"Hi Mrs Lee -"

"Gina you know you can call me Andi," I smile at her as I walk in through the doors to the office building in downtown Hollywood. She was the main secretary for the entire building as my office was on the third floor.

"-Sorry... Andi," She smiles.

"It's ok... any mail?" I ask as I approach her desk.

"Oh yes... I have a stack here for you," She says as she turns in her chair then reaches for the stack of envelopes and sets them on the top of the desk for me.

"Yay," I say sarcastically with a giggle and she lets me know if anyone comes in for me today that she will just buzz me and I make my way to the elevator and up to my office on the third floor.

Once I enter my office I set the stack of envelopes down in front of me as I sit with the large bay window behind me. I didn't have much to do here today but I did have one appointment.

Chris was meeting me here today.

Ok, I know. I don't understand why I'm even entertaining the thought of speaking to him, but let me explain. Chris had reached out to me when Tommy was touring for Ozzfest back in August, and I blew him off so many times. I was pretty busy between being on the road and working then planning everything for Tommy's birthday and rehearsing with the dancers, that I really didn't have time.

Now that the craziness has finally died down, Tommy now having some free time to just do whatever, I figured maybe I should see what Chris was wanting to talk to me about. I sent him a text last week and he immediately replied saying that he would be in Los Angeles finishing up some last minute recording on an album with Brad Wilk, Tom Morello and Tim Commorford - which they now call themselves Audioslave - and that he could meet me at my office anytime.

I honestly didn't have a clue as to what he could say to me that would make everything better. It's stupid and I shouldn't even care but, the more I thought about it, I know we are going to cross paths one way or another as much as I try to tell myself that it wont happen.

A short while later, Kat calls me on the phone telling me that there is someone here to see me and I tell her to send them up.

"Well, he was always pretty punctual," I say to myself as I glance up at the clock above the door that reads 2:00pm. Moments later, I hear a knock on my office door and I rise from my office chair, make sure I look presentable enough with my favorite Pantera band shirt and my black ripped leggings with my Doc Martens, pushing a few dark curls out of my eyes, walking to the door.

"Hi," Chris stands in the doorway, his dark hair curly and spiky wearing a plain white t-shirt, leather jacket and ripped jeans.

"Hey," I say with a small smile.

"You um... you look really good," He says sweetly with that smirk he always used to give me.

"Thank you," I say as I look down at myself for a moment.

"I uh, brought you some coffee," He says, holding out a cup for me to take.

"Oh, um, thank you," I say and take the cup from him. "Uh... come in," I step aside and gesture for him to sit down on the chair at my desk. He steps inside and I close the door behind him.

"Have a seat," I say as I walk around him and behind my desk and I sit back down and then he does. I take a sip of the coffee he gave me and set it down in front of me. "It's good coffee,"

"Yea, I uh, think I remember how you like it... just milk right?" He says.

"Yea," I say.

There it was.That horrible awkward silence that immediately fills the room making it feel like it is so much smaller than it is. We hadn't talked to each other since Layne... and Tommy punched him which I don't care to reminisce about.

"So um... how are you?" He asks, those familiar blue eyes looking right at me.

"I'm good... good... how are you?" I ask.

"I'm ok," He says. Then the silence ticks by and then he says. "I saw the... the um... magazine article for Guitar One... it was Guitar One right?"

"Uh, yea," I say and take a sip of my coffee secretly loving the fact he saw it.

"It came out really good. You um... you two look happy," He says and I give him a half smile.

"Thanks," I say sweetly.

"I also wanted to say... congrats on your um, marriage. I know I'm a couple of months late on that," He chuckles and I giggle.

"That's ok," I smile.

"It uh, looks like he loves you a lot,"

"He does," I say.

"Well, he better. Damn, he has a mean right hook," Chris chuckles as he touches his jaw where Tommy had punched him all those months ago and I giggle.

"I'm sorry. I mean I know Tommy isn't sorry but I am," I say and Chris laughs.

"It's fine," He chuckles.

We then let some silence creep back in the room and even though he was being sweet, I wanted to know why he wanted to see me so I decided to just get right to it since it seemed like he wasn't going to any time soon.

"So... what's up? Why did you want to see me?" I ask.

"Ok... um, I wanted to see you because I didn't think this would've been justifiable over text, but um... I wanted to apologize," He says shifting in his seat.

"For what?" I ask and take a sip of my coffee. I had a pretty fucking good idea what he was apologizing for but I wanted him to say it completely.

*** "Chris why are you being this way?"

"Why am I this way? You fucking made me this way. I can't even get away from your voice... that fucking annoying voice... why can't you just stop talking - "

"Chris this isn't you. I know this isn't you... it's the pills talking and I know you don't mean it,"

"Oh I fucking mean it,"

"Chris I know you love me - "

"No, no I don't,"

"Chris - "

"I don't love you. I'm done. There's nothing there. There's nothing fucking there anymore get it? There's nothing there. I feel nothing,"

"Chris, I love you - "

"Stop,"

"Chris - ?"

"STOP!"***

I take another sip looking at him as he sits across from me, his arm resting on the arm of the chair, his leg crossed over with his ankle resting on his knee, glancing down at himself, then at me.

"I uh... wanted to say that I'm sorry for how everything happened between us,"

"What do you mean?" I ask. I know exactly what he means but again, I wanted to hear it from him. He then shifts again, sitting up and forward and resting his forearms on his knees, his intense blue eyes looking right into mine.

"I was an asshole. Well probably more than an asshole.. for selling the house the way I did - "

I'll say

"- and I never meant anything by what I said about Tommy. I was just concerned. I didn't want you to get hurt. I get it though, I crossed the line. We aren't married anymore so I know I don't have any right to be concerned for you anymore -"

"Chris - "

" - and I'm sorry for all the things I've said, and for everything that I've done during the last years of our marriage. I wasn't fair to you - "

"Chris - ?"

"No let me... let me say it. The way I hid everything that I was doing from you... all the drugs, all the drinking, lying about it and then blaming you for how horrible I felt inside because I couldn't..." He hesitates for a moment looking away from me but I keep my eyes on him. "I couldn't forgive myself for not being there when... when you -when we lost our little girl... then trying to pressure you into having another after we got back together when I knew you weren't ready... "

I had no idea what to even say. This was not what I thought he came here for at all. I mean I had no idea why he wanted to see me in the first place but I definitely did not see this coming.

"Chris it's... it's ok," I say, not realizing how much I needed to hear that from him.

"Andi, it's really not but..." He trails off looking down at himself again then glances back at me. "You didn't deserve any of that shit from me. I don't ever expect you to forgive me but... I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry..."

The silence fills the room once more as he looks away from me and down at himself again, then leans back in the chair, his eyes finding mine. It wasn't something I ever thought I would hear from him. I wasn't sure what to say yet. I then clear my throat and take another sip of my coffee.

"Um... can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Chris says.

"You know that interview you did that was for that magazine, uh Harper's Bazzar, back in like I don't know May? I think," I say looking down at my coffee cup.

"I do," He says as his blue eyes focus on me.

"Did you mail me a copy so that I would see what you said in that article to get me upset?"

His brow furrows for a moment and then he says "No... why would I do that? I'm not proud of the things I said in there but I wouldn't throw it in your face about it,"

"Ok," I say and take a sip of my coffee. " I just thought maybe to spite me, you might have sent it to me if um, you were upset about me and Tommy,"

"No Andi it wasn't me," Chris says looking at me. " I mean, I'm not gonna lie and say I wasn't just a little hurt by you and Tommy getting married, but I wouldn't do that,"

"Did you mean what you said in that article? When you said something like you were finally happy now for the first time in your life because you were awake for it?" I ask looking right at him. I could feel my voice hitch for a moment repeating those words he said.

"Andi, I... " He trails off and looks away from me and begins to play with his beard, which he would always do when he was nervous.

"I'm not trying to start an argument or anything, I just want to know if you really meant that. If you really were never happy with me," I say. He glances down at the arm of the chair, still playing with his beard and taking a long pause.

"You were the first girl that I ever truly loved with my entire..." He hesitates for a moment then clears his throat and continues. "... we just had so much bad shit happen to us. It wasn't that I wasn't happy with you, it was that I had spent years drowning myself in alcohol and pills that I was in a haze. I couldn't feel anything because I didn't want to feel anything. I loved you more than I thought I could love anyone ever but I wasn't happy with myself and so I did all of the shit that you aren't supposed to do when you love someone,"

There was a long stretch of silence between us once more as we both looked at each other. It finally feels like after years of fighting, then avoiding each other, then fighting again, we - or really I - I can move past my childish grudge that I've held against him. He then looks away from me and sighs and I could tell just how sorry he really was for everything that has happened.

I rise from my chair and walk around my desk as he watches me and just as I approach him, I gesture for him to stand up and as he does I embrace him in a hug. He hesitates for a second and then I feel his arms around me. He hugs me the same way he always used to. It was familiar and comforting. We stay this way for a few more moments and I close my eyes as he holds me tighter.

"Now Tommy isn't gonna jump out and punch me again is he?" Chris jokes as he continues to hold me.

"No," I laugh.

"He knows I'm here though right?" Chris says.

"Yea he does," I say.

I then slowly pull away from him and as he looks down at me, I look up into his eyes and he reaches out brushing a curl from my face like he used to, then touches my chin with his thumb remembering all of the good times we had together before time and circumstance had pulled us apart.

"Uh, well, I should head out," He says, clearing his throat, dropping his hand from me and glancing down at himself for a moment.

"Oh yea, um... of course," I say shaking my head out of my thoughts, and as I walk him to the door, he turns back to me and says,

"Are we ok?"

"Yea... yea we're ok," I say, surprising myself. I honestly thought I would be angry at him still, that the pain would still linger. I never realized that all I really needed was an apology. A truthful sincere apology.

"Ok, well I guess I will talk to you later? Maybe eventually - and I know not right now but - maybe we can get together as friends... and just catch up?" He says sweetly looking down at me with that cute smirk he would always give me.

"Yea, maybe... sure," I say softly. And with that he gives me a small nod and a wave as we say goodbye to each other, I then close the door to my office, turn and lean against the door for a moment.

I finally got the closure I needed. It was definitely a bittersweet feeling, and it's crazy but all I could think about was how much I'm in love with Tommy. Without even realizing it, tears had started to fall from my eyes. They weren't sad tears, or even happy ones, just emotions I held in for so long that I had finally let free.

Suddenly I'm startled buy the buzzing of my cell phone on my desk and I quickly walk over, pick it up, and see it was a text from Tommy,

TOMMY: What's up babeh!!!

I giggle wiping my tears from my cheeks and text him back with:

ANDI: Nothing, just finishing up here and about to head out the door.

TOMMY: Well get that cute ass out here! Haha! I've got the boys and they are going crazy waiting to see you

ANDI: Ok, On my way

I then grab my keys and my leather jacket sliding my phone into my pocket and as soon as I head out the door my phone buzzes again.

TOMMY: 😛😜😝🤪

"Oh my god Tommy," I laugh to myself looking at my phone and head down to the elevator, finally arriving on the main floor, saying goodbye to Gina and walk out the main doors to see Tommy in his jet black Mercedes Benz convertible, the top down with Brandon and Dylan in the backseat.

"Andi!!!" They both cry happily in their little voices and I swear my heart melted right into a puddle of mush.

"Hey you," I say with a huge smile across my face, immediately leaning over the car and placing a kiss to the top of Brandon's little blonde head.

"Yay dad she kissed me first," Brandon giggles in his little voice as I open the passenger door and slide in.

"Yea, I saw that dude," Tommy laughs and I lean in as Tommy leans over to me pressing his lips to mine lingering just long enough before pulling away and hearing Dylan say something about how I didn't say 'hi' to him yet.

"Hi Dylie," I say in a silly voice through clenched teeth grabbing his little leg and tickling him and he squeals with laughter. As Tommy pulls away from the curb, I slide back into my seat, my body turned to face him.

"So how was it?" Tommy asks as we make our way down the road.

"It was fine... actually it was pretty good," I say.

"He didn't try and turn you against me or anything did he?" Tommy smirks.

"No... no we just cleared the air and um... we're fine. He apologized and that was it," I didn't exactly want to go into every detail of our conversation, that I will hold onto just for me.

"So I don't need to kick his ass or anything?" Tommy says glancing at the rearview mirror seeing Brandon and Dylan playing in the backseat.

"No, you don't need to do that," I giggle as Tommy takes my hand and places sweet soft kisses to the back of it. " - but he totally thought you were gonna jump out from somewhere and punch him again though,"

"Good,"

"Tommy!" I say and he laughs in between his kisses.

#tommy lee fanfic #tommy lee #motley crue fanfiction #chris cornell #grunge crossover #chris cornell fanfiction #motley crue #audioslave #soundgarden

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whentherewerebicycles · 1 year

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time to declutter my brain by making some LISTS!!!!

time available to me in the immediate future:

had amazing weekend in pittsburgh! am flying home tonight so will have about 5-6 hours of airport and flight time where i can work on whatever

i have only one meeting & one tiny work task on the agenda for tomorrow so i will have that entire day

wednesday morning is packed with meetings but i’ll be finished by 12 and then will have the rest of the day to run errands, pack, and do other last-minute trip stuff

thursday morning will be a bit of a mad scramble but then i will have 10-11 hours of sustained work time on the plane to use however i want

things i need to get done:

pre-trip errands. i ordered a shitload of travel clothes & other stuff that all arrived this weekend, so i need to try everything on, decide what i’m taking with me, and drop off all returns before i leave. i also need to buy dog food, water plants, and pay some medical bills.

campus visit. i’ve gotten too far in the weeds with all the prep work and research, which is fine, like i needed to do that reading and thinking, but also now it’s time to step back from it a little bit and start thinking about the pieces i’m going to pull out for the actual talk. the sooner i can get a detailed outline together the less stressed i’ll feel, so i think i may spend tonight’s plane ride outlining by hand (since writing things out instead of typing helps me organize my thinking more efficiently). i want to think about several possible configurations for that hour, and then i also want to create a to-do list so i have a clearer sense of the stuff i need to prep or script in the next couple weeks.

i know i am going to put a lot of pressure on myself to do this “perfectly” or whatever, but i want to try to gently push back against that impulse. i am so prepared for this interview. the presentation doesn’t have to convey absolutely everything because i will have the entire day to answer questions and bring up things i want to mention. my goal is to not get lost into the details but to keep my messaging simple, direct, and compelling. i also read a bunch of articles in the chronicle this morning about how hard it is for universities to recruit and retain talented admin staff right now, and that made me feel a bit better about going into the interview. interviews are two-way evaluations and if they are interested enough in me for this role to invite me to campus, they are also going to be feeling some pressure to make this a positive experience and to convince me that this is the place i want to be.

IUI planning. i test tomorrow but kind of have a gut feeling this cycle didn’t work! i know i’ll be disappointed if the test is negative but i also think i’m so busy with other stuff that i’ll move on pretty fast and be ready to try again. i just need to reach out to my doctor before my trip to see what she thinks about squeezing something in around the travel and the campus visit - the timing will get a little hairy so it might not be worth it to try this month. we’ll see! but i have to do that before i leave as i need to know if i should take the meds with me & i also will need to set up my sister with the info to call the donor bank for me.

fic comments. lol my goal for this last cycle was to do 14 comments in 14 days and i only managed to do 4!! i will cut myself some slack here as when i set the goal i didn’t know about the job interview yet and didn’t anticipate that other stuff would fill all that open time. but i might try to do a few more on the plane tonight - maybe i can get to 7 at least.

okay! there’s a lot ahead of me but honestly i think i did a ton of good work in march and that has prepared me to roll into a very busy april in a reasonably calm state of mind. i can handle everything that lies ahead. and wow i’m about to have a very cool travel experience too!! and basically two full weeks where don’t have to think about my current job for even a second! i know i’ll probably be tired at the end of the trip but i hope it’s also a good brain break for me.

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abundanceofsoph · 2 years

Text

SkyFire 3: Chapter 15

The X Factor Auditions: July – August 2018

Word count: 2.6k

SkyFire 3 MASTERLIST

Do me a favour and pretend that this chapter didn’t take me a year to finish.

The first day of auditions was overwhelming for Aurora. She was anxious and trying hard to come up with well thought out comments for every singer that came on stage. In the week since the judges had been announced, many people had questioned her inclusion in the show. Some were claiming she was only there because of Harry or Louis and others were using her as an example of how the show was on the way out and had clearly run out of “real” celebrities to fill out the judge’s panel. Despite everyone around her encouraging her to ignore it, Rori found herself unable to stop herself from reading the hurtful comments and the attacking articles that seemed to fill the feed of every social media account she had. All those comments echoed in her head once she was finally in front of the cameras in the SSE Arena, and it felt impossible to avoid the need to prove them wrong. It was true that she had benefited from her father’s fame and his name had provided her with her start in the industry, however it was her talent that had kept her there. In the past 6 years since her career had taken off, she had sold hundreds of songs to countless artists and it was not her father’s name or even Harry’s that had sold them; it was her talent and the quality of her work that had kept her where her privilege had helped her reach. That was what she was trying to prove now, despite her anxiety over the size of the audience she knew would watch the show, she was committed to proving to everyone that doubted her, that she knew what she was talking about when it came to the music industry.

After a few hours of filming, in a short break between auditions, Louis pushed a piece of paper across the desk in front of them to show her. She had watched him taking notes throughout the morning as he sat beside her, just as she had been taking her own. Louis had picked up on her nerves, noticing the tension in her shoulders and he felt the need to lighten the mood and help her relax. She looked down at the paper now in front of her and bit back a laugh at his comment.

“I’m winning,” he told her as she took in the tally sheet he had apparently been keeping. Scrawled across the top were both of their names with a series of tally marks under each; 2 under her own and 3 under Louis’. “What do you say whoever has the most writing credits on audition songs at the end of the day buys dinner?”

“You’re on,” she chuckled, finally feeling the tight ball of anxiety lifting off her chest.

Once they came back from the lunch break, Rori found herself finally feeling a little bit more comfortable sitting behind the judge’s desk and chatting with Robbie. They had spoken briefly the previous day, and a little before filming started that morning, but given Rori’s anxiety up until that point this was their first real conversation beyond exchanging simple pleasantries.

“What are you thinking so far?” Robbie asked. “This is your first time judging something like this, yeah?”

“It’s wild,” she answered with a smile. “It’s my first time on a tv show and considering I grew up watching this and dreaming of auditioning, it’s mental to be one of the judges now, and the fact that I’m doing it the same year as you is just…” She let out a breath of air in lieu of finishing her sentence, causing Robbie to chuckle in response.

“Let me guess,” he laughed, “You’re a 90s kid and your mum was my biggest fan?”

“She was never quite able to forgive you for leaving the band, but I only ever knew you as a solo artist.”

“You’re making me feel really old now,” he warned with a grin.

“Sorry. That might happen a fair bit though.”

“What are you two nattering on about?” Louis asked, leaning close against Aurora’s side so that he could see Robbie on her other side.

“She’s just making sure to remind me that you two are younger than my entire career,” Robbie explained.

“At least I was alive before you went solo,” Louis said.

“Barely!” Rori bit back, laughing hysterically before calming down as the crew signalled that they were ready for the next act.

Moments later 2 young men walked out onto the stage, introducing themselves as Misunderstood and the moment they started performing Rori felt her jaw drop. By the end of the song, she was up on her feet and dancing along and then found herself scrambling to pull together a response while the men on the panel gave their own comments.

“What’s amazing for me is that I can already see you touring,” Aurora said once it was her turn. “You both have such an incredible stage presence about you, and you know exactly who you are as a group. That was an absolute joy to watch and the fact that you wrote that banger yourselves just makes everything you just did so much more impressive. Well done lads.”

xXx

Unfortunately for Aurora, not every audition was good, and she found herself struggling with having to shatter people’s dreams. It was late in the afternoon of the first day and so far, things had been going well. There had been some unbelievable auditions, some people who just needed a little bit more confidence or a little more training before they were ready for the competition, or the joke auditions who knew they wouldn’t get through to the next round. The first of the ironically terrible auditions came in the form of a young brunette girl who chose to sing Lost Boy by Ruth B, despite the fact that she couldn’t hold a single note.

Thankfully Simon didn’t allow her to get through much more than the first verse and chorus before putting an end to it. The moment the music cut out abruptly in response to his raised hand, the arena fell quiet, waiting for the judges to comment. Aurora took a deep breath and waited for someone else to speak first.

Robbie noticed her fidgeting and took the lead, “That was a beautiful song,” he began, “but unfortunately you just didn’t deliver today. I just don’t think you were quite ready, sweetheart.”

“Aurora?” Simon prompted. “What did you think?”

“I’m trying really hard to think of what to say without being harsh,” she began before Simon cut her off.

“It’s not harsh if you’re telling the truth,” he pointed out. “We’re here to judge them and that means you can’t always have nice things to say.”

“Ok,” she agreed before turning her attention back to the girl in front of her. “Do you know who wrote that song?” she asked, receiving a nervous shake of the head in reply. “It’s one of mine.”

“Is it really?” Robbie asked. “Well, I stand by my previous comment, it’s a beautiful song.”

“Thank you. It is a beautiful song and I’m honestly just confused as to why you picked it. The tone was off, the pitch… I mean I’m sorry to say but not much about that was on. I’m sorry but this just wasn’t it and I wish you all the best in the future.”

“I agree with Rors,” Louis added. “It’s a no from me, love.”

xXx

The last audition of the first day was one to remember for an unexpected reason. Andy’s audition was already well off the rails by the time the intro to Angels started playing and Rori felt a grin stretch across her face as Robbie launched from his seat and headed towards the stage. The whole crowd joined in singing as Lou, Simon and Rori got to their feet. Rori threw her arm around Louis’ shoulders and they swayed together as they sang along, laughing as Robbie joined in and despite Andy’s terrible voice, they all enjoyed the song. Aurora couldn’t help herself but belt out the chorus, completely forgetting the microphone in front of her but simply revelling in the joyful atmosphere of the room.

xXx

“Where you can go to vocally, for me, is impossible to comprehend,” Louis told a contestant after he received a standing ovation for his audition. “That was quite simply unbelievable.”

“Cezar,” Aurora started as the crowd continued to clap and cheer behind her. “That was remarkable, but I can’t shake the feeling that I know you. You seem very familiar.”

“Have the two of you met?” Simon asked, leaning forward to see her past Louis.

“I don’t think we have,” Rori replied before turning back to the man on the stage. “Have I seen you perform before?”

“I participated in Eurovision in 2013,” Cezar admitted. “You may have watched that.”

“You were the Romanian entrant,” Rori gasped with recognition. “ It’s My Life !”

“Yes, that was my song. I was very honoured to have the opportunity.”

“You were incredible then, Cezar, and you are incredible now. I don’t even care what the rest of you have to say,” she directed towards her fellow judges, “I’m ready to vote and it’s a massive yes from me.”

Louis broke out laughing at her enthusiasm as Robbie and Simon both agreed with Yes votes of their own. “It’s of course a Yes from me too,” he added.

xXx

After the first three days of auditions, they reached their first day off and Aurora spent the day with Harry before catching up with Ella for dinner after she finished work.

“It’s only been three days and it’s already so painfully obvious why Lou wanted me to do this with him,” Rori explained once their meals were delivered at their local Indian restaurant down the road from Ella’s flat. “Simon is clearly still trying to bank on the narrative of him being a father figure to the 1D boys. He doesn’t want the world to forget that without him, the band never would have existed. Honestly it’s taking every ounce of self-restraint not to roll my eyes when he says shit about being Louis’ mentor in the industry.”

“Ewww,” Ella responded as she passed half of her naan across the table. “Does he think the fandom is just going to forget how traumatized they all were from their time in the band? It’s not like it’s a secret how much they all struggled because of him.”

“I know, right?” Rori sighed. “I’ve been telling Lou for ages that he needs new management because he deserves a team that cares more about him than they do about themselves. Simon has only ever cared about his own image. Just glad I can help keep Louis from blowing up and saying something he’ll regret.”

“He’s definitely lucky to have you next to him,” Ella agreed. “But at least it’s not all bad. I mean, you get to hang out with Robbie fucking Williams every day.”

“And isn’t that just the most batshit mental thing you’ve ever heard?”

“I’m genuinely so excited to watch,” Ella said. “My students were talking about it the other day and how excited they were for the new season since you and Louis are gonna be judges. Told them I’m friends with you and they called me a liar.”

“They didn’t,” Aurora laughed. “That’s hysterical. Maybe I’ll have to come have lunch with you so we can mess with them.”

“Oh, you absolutely should. Might earn me a bit of street cred.”

“If you want the teenagers to think you’re cool, probably don’t use the term street cred.”

“Get fucked.”

xXx

Over the following week, Aurora found herself exhausted by the audition process. The arena was blisteringly hot and stuffy in the summer weather and the vast majority of the people auditioning lacked talent, which left her feeling horrible as she was forced to crush their dreams. Not every audition was terrible though, and one in particular stood out above the rest.

J-Sol had barely made it through the first few lines of his audition song when Aurora felt her eyes welling up. She found herself thinking of her own mother and how proud she would be to see her on the X Factor. She reached out to Louis, gripping his hand tightly, and she knew from the way he squeezed back, he was also feeling the emotions of the moment. Aurora had never been sure if she believed in an afterlife but in that moment, she hoped that Jay and Louise were looking down on them with proud smiles.

“Can somebody help me?” J-Sol sang, “cause i’m not doing well.”

Rori felt the tears well over and a few slipped down her face. She let them fall, unable and unwilling to pull her hand from Louis' grip to brush them aside. She took a shaky breath in as the song continued. She felt Louis shift in his seat beside her, lifting his other hand to brush away his own tears and the moment the song ended all four judges stood to aplaude. She glanced at Louis and he was looking back at her, both of them taking in each other's tear filled eyes. Louis hugged her briefly before heading up onto the stage to hug J-Sol as well.

“J-Sol,” Robbie began, “Your voice. Your soul. Your passion. Incredible. I feel you so much.”

“Thank you,” J-Sol replied softly.

“J-Sol, I lost my mum when I was 15, and losing her was one of the most devastating things I think a person can go through.” Louis reached out to comfort her as her voice broke, laying a hand on her shoulder as she spoke. “So I just want to thank you for sharing such a beautiful and powerful song with us all. Just like you, my mum wanted me to come on this show and that’s why I know that your mum would be so proud of you.”

While Louis and Simon gave their own feedback on the audition, Aurora bowed her head, trying to pull herself back together before she and the other three men on the panel all voted yes.

As soon as she could, Aurora was out of her seat and headed towards the backstage area where she was finally able to break down in tears. Louis and Robbie were only a few steps behind her and the moment they caught up to her, Louis pulled her into his arms and held her tightly while they both cried. They pulled themselves together after a few minutes and the makeup teams were quickly swarming around them to get them ready to continue filming.

xXx

By early August the auditions were completed and after deliberating on the successful contestants, they spent a few days filming the 6 chairs episodes where the teams were decided. After 6 chairs, both the judges and contestants were given two weeks off before each team would fly out to film the judges’ houses. Louis and the Boys would fly to Ibiza, while Robbie and his Groups, as well as Simon and the Overs would fly to LA. Aurora had decided to take her Girls to New York where Steve and Tony were happy to let her use the penthouse of the tower for filming. During the fortnight off from filming, Aurora had multiple promotional obligations given that the show would start airing at the start of September.

Her favourite, without a doubt, was when she and Louis filmed the Glamour Friendship Test.

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#skyfire #skyfire fic #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #dad!tony #step dad steve rogers #tony stark #harry styles fluff #harry x reader #aurora stark #best friend louis tomlinson #x factor fanfic

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