#me when i want 2 blow up and fade away ~~

[writingroom21]

The Nanny

Pairing: rafe x nanny reader

Summary: Being Wheezie's nanny was great. The only downside is dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?

Warnings: 18+, fingering, oral (m and f receiving)

wc: 4.9K

Chapter 2: Let the fun and games begin

The next day was a blur of anxiety as you didn’t know what to do about last night. Rose and Ward had left early this morning taking Wheezie to drop her off at her camp. That just left you, Sarah and Rafe all alone at Tannyhill. This normally wouldn’t have been a problem but considering Sarah is MIA it became one. Every room you enter fills you with anxiety and dread of seeing Rafe. How do you even look at him after what happened? After he caught you watching him fuck his fist. Alright you think as you start to throb just thinking about how his arms flexed everytime he stroked himself. This is getting out of hand, it was one thing for your thoughts to keep you up all night but it can't affect your daily routine.

What’s the worst that can happen right? So what if you stood there and watched him, he would have done the same in your position. Hell he probably would have taken it as an invitation if he walked in on you like that. But no matter how you tried to spin it in your head it all led to the same conclusion. You were utterly fucked. The past year was easy to blow him off, all you had to do was think about all the girls you saw crying over him. But now that you caught a glimpse of that side of him you can’t help wanting to get a closer look. It wouldn’t hurt to have a little fun, you thought. It really wouldn’t, he’s really handsome and if his reputation is right then he’s also really good in bed.

Then you think about Wheezie and how hurt she would be if something went wrong and you had to leave. The thought of hurting her alone was good enough for the thoughts to finally stop. No matter how attractive Rafe is it isn't worth it, plus his personality would probably ruin it before it even starts. Yeah the two of you are completely different, he grew up rich and thinks the world is his to rule and you grew up in the cut. If it wasn’t for this job you would still be living at home barely making anything to feed yourself. He only tolerates you because he thinks you are hot and you work for his family. Yup that it, right?

The tv plays in the background reruns of Grey’s Anatomy playing as you try to relax. It’s close to five o’clock and no one is in the house. Sarah is probably off with John B and Rafe is well he’s mostly likely off somewhere getting high. Derek’s voice plays in your ear as you focus back onto the screen forcing yourself to think of anything but the older Cameron. Watching as the surgery scene plays out your phone pings. Mom: Hi baby. Just wanted to let you know dad and I are having a cookout tomorrow night. We would like it if you came, we know you’re a busy bee but we miss you. You let out a sigh looking at the message. It wasn’t that your relationship with your parents is bad, they just expected a lot from you. 

It was always about getting good grades so you could get a good job and help them out with bills. They wanted you to take care of them once you had a stable job. So when you decided to take up a job as a nanny they weren’t too pleased.  The displeasure faded away once they found out it was being a nanny for the Camerons. Even though the paycheck was nice, well more than nice, it still wasn’t enough to cover their expenses and your own. It’s been a constant argument between the three of you. You type out a quick response before she starts sending you more. You: Hey! I miss you both. I’ll try to make it, Ward and Rose asked me to watch the house while they are gone. Your phone wasn’t even out of your hand before it went off again with another message. Mom: I’m sure they won’t mind you being away for a few hours. But if you can’t make it we will just see you another time then. Her message seems so understanding but deep down you know she's upset. Fingers go to respond but a voice scares you. The phone drops from your hand as you whip your head to look at who came into the living room. “Still pretending to text that boyfriend of yours?” Rafe says, making his way over to the couch and plopping down near you. Scoffing at him you respond. “No, I'm texting my mother.” “oh so you admit the boyfriend was fake.”

There’s a twinkle in his eyes as he grins at you, watching to see what your next move will be. “Yeah it was fun watching you get jealous but I decided to give it a rest for tonight.” The two of you just stare at each other for a moment, he’s looking at what you are wearing. You didn’t notice it at the time but it’s one of his old shirts that got mixed with your laundry a while ago. It looks like a dress on you blocking the view of your sleep shorts underneath. Which is a good thing because those shorts leave nothing to the imagination, barely covering you up from the world. Every now and then you wear it but only in your room, not allowing yourself to let him know you have it. 

“Nice shirt.” He comments scooting a bit closer to you on the couch. “You should wear it more often Sunny. Really makes your eyes pop.” Mhm you mumble knowing that he’s not looking anywhere near your eyes. In fact he’s staring at the exposed flesh of your thighs. Skimming up along your legs pausing for a moment at your cunt. Rafe’s eyes on you are making you wiggle in your seat as you try to focus back on the show. It is quiet for a moment as the voices of the characters fill the room. The sky outside starts to darken as the sun finally sets, the room painted in the soft lights of the screen.

Rafe is staring at you, looking at how the light washes of blue dance across your features as you try your best to not stare at him. Movement catches your attention as you see him slide further along the cushions to sit right next to you. “Where’s Sarah?” He whispers by my ear, his right hand brushes against your left thigh. “Um… I don’t know. Maybe she’s with John B or the rest of them.” Clearing your throat, the voice leaving you sounding weak. “Hmm so it’s just us in the house?” The question was met with his hand resting fully on your thigh. Lightly squeezing you as it slowly goes a bit higher right where the shirt ends, fingers quickly skirting underneath before going back to its original position. 

“Rafe.” The rest of the statement was cut off by him. ”Don’t do that. Enough with this game of cat and mouse. I know you want this as badly as I do.” A moan slips from you as his hand goes back under the shirt to tease you through your shorts. Rafe’s middle finger grazing you up and down, noticing the way your eyes screw shut. Creases forming around them as he keeps playing with you. “We shouldn’t do this, I literally work for your family.” You try to reason with him turning to be face to face, whimpering as the heat of his hand leaves as he retracts it. 

“I know.” He whispers as the hand that was touching your caresses your check, knotting into your hair to drag you closer. The other hand worms it way back to your shorts, sliding them to the side to finally feel you. “Fuck no panties? See you’re practically soaking those little shorts of yours.” You moan as he circles your clit with a feather-like touch. “Are you always this wet or do you like me touching you like this?” He chuckles as you move further into his touch. “You’re not special Cameron. I’m always this wet.” The response stops all movement, the grip in her hair tightening for a short second causing your eyes to open. Meeting the blue eyes that haunted you all night, you let go.  “Don’t stop.” 

Your lips crash into his, soft pillowy lips melting together, teeth nipping at each other's lips as Rafe’s fingers continue their assault. “That’s a good girl, Sunny. Fucking perfect.” The words tickle your lips, head thrown back as he makes his way to your entrance. Rafe pushes his middle finger in, dragging it along your walls in a delicious and intoxicating way. Moans keep slipping from your lips and only intensifies as his lips skate across your skin, latching onto your neck. 

A second finger joins his middle one curling just enough to hit your g-spot, tingles spread across your body, legs spreading giving him better access. “Right there.” You moan, your hand landing on his thigh trying to ground yourself when all you can feel is pleasure. Wet squelching fills your eyes only adding to the sensation of his thick fingers fucking you open. “That feel good, baby?” Rafe picks up his speed before taking his fingers out of you and putting them in his mouth. He moans around his fingers, pushing you back to lay down on the couch.  “Come on, pretty girl, lay down for me. Want to have my dinner.” 

Your brain is so hazy from having his fingers inside you that you don’t fight back. Lifting your hips, his hands wrap around your hips to pull the pathetic excuse you call shorts down your legs. The flimsy material being thrown off to the side, shirt pushed up to your waist exposing you to him for the first time. “God your pussy’s perfect. Look at it clenching around nothing. Want me to fill you up.” His lips start to kiss up your thigh, biting into the soft flesh when you don’t respond. “Please.” You whine 

“Please what? Use your words, I know a smart girl like you can do it.” The praise goes straight to your head, hips lifting off the couch trying to chase after his touch. “Please, sir.” The whimper halts Rafe and he stares up at you. After a moment of him not doing anything you look down at him between your legs. If you had a camera in this moment you would take a picture, he was a sight to be seen. Rafe’s lips are puffy and red but his eyes are staring at you with this hunger that makes you go to close your legs but he stops you. Both hands spread your legs as he dives into your cunt.

“Fuck that wasn’t what I was looking for but I’ll be damned if you don’t call me that.” His voice vibrates against you sending chills down your body. “Say it again.” His middle and ring finger push into you once again, pumping in a cruel slow pace. “Please, sir. It feels so good.” Your walls flutter around the fingers inside you, his tongue kitty licking your clit. “Such a good little slut. Begging me to keep finger fucking you like some depraved whore.” His words cause you to squeeze his finger and throw your head back with a moan. 

“Yeah you like being degraded?” A chuckle leaves him “Should’ve known you would like it. Prancing around the house in those little skirts. Just asking for me to bend you over some surface to fuck you. Bet you want me to fuck that attitude right out of you. Huh would that finally shut up that little mouth of yours?” With his fingers curling into you deeper and his mouth suctioning against your clit no words come out. Your mouth hangs open and all you can do is place your hand behind his head, keeping him as close as possible to you. 

A choked moan is lodged in your throat, eyes peeking at him through your lashes. His eyes are closed as he keeps devouring you, his hips thrusting into the couch to relieve the growing pain in his pants. Rafe wanted nothing more than to rip his pants off and shove his dick into your tight pussy. If you were squeezing him so nicely now, he can only imagine how good you would feel wrapped around his cock. He wanted to watch as you crumble into a mess of pleasure, taking his dick like a cock drunk slut. The thought of that alone causes his hips to stutter, the feeling making him moan into your pussy.

At this rate you can feel your peak creeping up fast. “Oh god Rafe. Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” Hips thrusting up to match the brutal pace his fingers have set. If you thought his arms looked good jerking himself off, nothing compares to watching it flex as he fucks you. “I’m not stopping, baby. I’m never going to stop. But that’s not my name.” Rafe means it too. Just the little taste of you has ruined him, no one will be able to compare to the sweet taste of you. “Sir!” you squeal. He's drunk off the feeling and taste of you, every clench of your pussy making him grind harder into the cushion. “I can feel you squeezing me. You want to be my good girl right? Cum for me Sunny.”

With a graze of his teeth on your clit, you were sent to ecstasy. Hips thrashing all around as he kept sucking on your clit, fingers pushing deeper into you riding out your orgasim. Once you come down he removes his fingers, quickly cleaning them with his tongue before diving back into you. Licking you clean and holding you down by the waist as you try to escape him. When he’s finally done he lets you go, leaning back, chest heaving looking down at you.

You were the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. So fucked out catching your breath with a peaceful look on your face. Eyes still closed you don’t notice him leaning back down, encasing your body with his. His thumb lightly dances along your cheek, waiting for you to open your eyes to look at him. “Thank you.” You whisper suddenly shy as if he wasn’t just eating you out like you were his last meal. Rafe laughs, kissing you deeply before moving off of you. “Such good manners.” He walks over to your shorts, throwing them back at you, making his way out of the room. “I have to go deal with something. I’ll be back later okay.”

Silence wraps around you, the tv displaying Are you still watching? Getting up you pull your shorts back on looking around the couch for your phone and the remote. Finding your phone you also notice something on the couch. A huge wet spot from where you were laying, heat rushes to your checks knowing you just soiled an expensive couch.

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The rest of the night was uneventful, Sarah never came back home so you were left all alone. Usually you and Wheezie would spend the summer nights outside swimming in the pool or staying up late chatting about god knows what. Without her there really wasn’t anything to do besides lay around or go to a party. After much consideration the only one that seemed right was staying at home. You knew Rafe would most likely be at the party, the something he had to deal with being selling coke. After last night and tonight you don’t even know how to face him again.

So staying at home was the best option in your books. A few hours were spent reading whatever romance book was on your bookshelf and making dinner for yourself. By midnight you were fast asleep in your room. Sleeping so peacefully, the sounds of the bedroom door opening weren't noticed. It was the door closing that stirred you from your slumber, looking at the bedside clock you noticed it was past two in the morning. Soft footsteps echo in the dark room, the person fumbling their way around knocking down whatever they made contact with. “Fuck” they curse the sound barely reachign you.

Scared and not knowing what to do you lay there slowly reaching for the bat by your bed. Even though this is a good neighborhood and people would have to have the gate code to get in you can never be too safe. The bat is now next to you in the bed, the side behind you dipping with the weight of the person sitting on it. “Sunny.” They whisper. Are you fucking kiddin’t me? “Rafe?” His hand wraps around you to turn you around, the bat coming along with you. “Jesus. Is that a fucking bat?”

Rafe slips it out of your hand placing it under your bed before going back to you. “Do you always keep a bat on you?” “Depends. Do you always sneak into girls' beds at two in the morning?” The moon shining through the windows dimly lit the room, contouring his face. “Only the pretty ones.” He whispers in the space between you two, telling you a secret he normally wouldn’t say. “I’m sure you say that to all of them.” You tease trying to put distance between you both. It’s weird having him laying in your bed, sure the two of you were friendly, things only changing the previous day. But this is different, he’s in your room, he’s laying in your bed next to you.

“Nah none of them need the sweet words to sleep with me.” Cocky tone matching the grin growing on his face. “Oh of course. Forgot that the kook king was also a king in the bedroom.” Rolling your eyes and lying on your back, you stare at the ceiling. Of course he would only say nice things to get into your pants, you don’t know why you could even think differently. Rafe’s face invades your eye line as he rests all his weight onto one arm to get a better look at you. His eyes are bloodshot, pupils dilated scanning your face hoping it can tell him what you are thinking. 

“Penny for your thoughts.” Your eyes shut trying to form words with all the things you want to say. That he made you feel something no one else has been able to do, how you want to keep chasing that feeling, but more importantly that it was a mistake. It doesn’t matter that it felt amazing, that whatever it was would only lead to heartbreak. You’ve seen this film before with all the girls he flaunted around the house. “This.” You clear your throat, averting your eyes to the window. “This can’t keep happening.” 

Rafe takes a hold of your chin turning you to look at him. “Do you want it to keep happening?” The loaded question fizzling in the air was replaced by a quick “No.” leaving your lips. “But it doesn’t matter what I want.” “It does matter.” Blue eyes burning into your own pleading for you not to take away these moments. Communicating with you that he needs this as much as you need him. “It can be our little secret. I promise I won’t tell.” You giggle, his head burying into the crook of your neck, kissing the junction where your shoulder and neck meets. 

You try to push him by his shoulder but he won’t budge, kissing up your neck until he meets your ear. “Stop letting life pass you by. You stay cooped up in this house with Wheeze all day, she’s not a kid you know. When was the last time you let yourself go?” His breath tickles your ear before biting it and continuing to kiss your skin. Rafe’s right, you don’t do anything fun anymore. Before you took this job you would go out constantly, always with friends running around the island. Wheezie shouldn’t even need a nanny, the only reason you have this job is because Ward was scared. Sarah running away and Rafe doing drugs all the time made him paranoid, he doesn’t want the same to happen to her.

“I don’t know, I would say what we did on the couch would count.” His kisses travel to your jaw, then check, and finally meet your lips. “Yeah I would say it counts. Fucking soaked the couch from how wet you were.” You tense for a moment, embarrassed that he noticed the mess you made. “Nah nah don’t get shy on me pretty girl. You’re just as dirty and depraved as I am.” Pretty girl, that's the second time he’s called you pretty since he sneaked into your room. “You’re high, you should go to sleep.”

“Not high, that shit is practically out of my system at this point.” Kissing your lips he weasels his way on top of you. Your legs widening allowing him to slot his hips between yours, his dick rubbing you in the right way. You are still wearing the shorts from earlier, his dick making the fabric  stick to your folds. “Just want to feel you.” Rafe’s words punctuated with his hips slowly thrusting against you, lips kissing any exposed skin he can get to. “I’m not letting you fuck me after you’ve been taking drugs all night.”

You can feel him smile against your skin, giving you a peck and moving his head to meet your gaze. “So what I’m hearing is you would let me fuck you any other time.” scoffing you roll your eyes flicking his forehead. “Yeah dumbass that’s what I’m saying. It's too bad. I guess we’ll have to find another way.” “Another way?” There’s that smirk again, a fluttering feeling starts in your stomach. Shaking the feeling away you pull him up by his face to kiss you, using all of your body weight to get him on his back. Throwing your leg over his hip you straddle him. 

Rafe is the first to break the kiss, watching you from below as you start to grind against him. “Tell me princess exactly what is this other way?” The hand that was resting on your neck makes its way down the valley of your breast, teasing you nipples through the shirt with a pinch before finding its home on your hip. Viewing him from this angle is breathtaking, the moon painting him in a light blue. “Let me suck your dick.” His hips thrust up into your after hearing how you want to suck him off. “Yeah? Want to put the little mouth of yours to good use.” You grind a little harder leaning down to kiss his neck.

There’s a slight taste of sweat on his skin, probably from partying too hard, it doesn’t stop you from sucking on his pulse point. Pecking up to his ear and placing kisses right behind it, gaining moans from him. Bingo. Sucking on his sweat spot he uses his grip on your hips to move you back and forth. “Yeah. I want to feel you in my mouth, want to taste you.” This causes him to groan bucking into you. “Fuck! Yeah, yeah you can have whatever you want baby.” The words are like a reward, smiling as you look down at him, your hair covering the two of you from the outside world.

“Good boy.” Two simple words, two words that had him wrapped around your finger. The grip on your hip tightens as you kiss down his body, pulling his shirt over his head so you can nip at his skin. Your hands reach between your bodies undoing the belt and pants button easing the pain the zipper was giving him. He’s so painfully hard he can’t even remember the last time he wanted someone this much. “You like being my good boy just as much as I like being your good girl. If you admit it I’ll suck you so good.” You whisper, eyes flickering up to look at him. 

If his ego wasn’t so big he would admit it, he would tell you just how fucking bad he wanted to be good for you. But that’s not who he is, admitting something like that would just show you how weak he truly is, he can’t do that. “Oh you begging for me to fill that mouth up of yours and fuck that tone out of you.” He taunts from above, grasping at anything to give him the upper hand. “You’ll definitely be filling up my mouth. It’s just going to be under my rules.” Pushes his shorts and boxers down his cock springs free bobbing in front of your face. Reaching up you grab him and give him a little squeeze, electing a groan out of the boy laid out on your bed.

You kiss his left thigh before licking him from the base up to the mushroom tip that was red, begging for attention. The taste of pre-cum invades your tongue as you wrap your lips around him, sucking just the tip. He’s heavy in your mouth and you only have the tip in but based off of the quick glance you got you knew he was big. Like huge, he’s also wide, stretching your lips as you take more of him in. If he’s stretching you out like this then you can only imagine what fucking him would do. As if Rafe was a mind reader he calms your nerves. “Don’t worry baby, we’ll make it fit. Just…just keep sucking like that.” 

Humming around him, you start to move your head up and down, making sure to hollow your cheeks and give him a nice long suck on the way up. Repeating the motion you get into a rhythm, right hand wrapped around what you can’t fit helping you along. “Fuck that feels good. Who knew that mouth was good for something else other than talking back.” The vibrations of your chuckle send pleasure through Rafe’s body. He doesn’t know whether to watch you or to shut his eyes and enjoy the moment. But looking at the way your eyes are closed, worshiping his dick has him throwing his head back. His eyes closing, moans escaping him as he wraps your hair in a ponytail in his hands. Guiding your pace he pulls your hair this causes you to moan around the sensation making you wet. 

“Touch yourself.” The command takes you by surprise, following it, your unoccupied hand makes its way into your shorts. You're wet, wet is an understatement, you were soaked. You would never admit this but you liked the feeling of him in your mouth, the feeling of him rutting into you. “You get off on this shit don’t you?” Your fingers rub faster on your clit, already so close to cumming just by sucking him off. “Knew you were a cock slut. Damn baby.” He huffs between breaths. 

All you can do is moan and keep sucking, picking up the pace of your bobbing, moving your arm to slip a finger inside yourself. Rafe lifts his head at your movements, entranced by just watching you. His beautiful little Sunny being perfect, your eyes flutter open and his breath hitches. He’s going to remember this moment forever, it’s going to play on repeat in his head every minute of every day. Whatever happens after this is worth it in his eyes, this right here made it worth it. “If you keep going I’m gonna cum.” He moans, head falling back onto your pillow. 

Disconnecting from him a string of saliva and pre-cum kept the two of you tethered. “That’s kinda the point, pretty boy.” You continue your previous movements, on the verge of cumming yourself. You can feel him throbbing ready to explode in your mouth so you squeeze his base tighter, letting him know it's okay and you want it. “Can you be a good boy and come for me sir?” Not even a second later he lets go, white ropes of cum filling your mouth as you cum right after him. Swallowing around him, you let him go, releasing him from your mouth, the hand in your pants laying motionless. 

Rafe lets go of your hair, grabbing your arms to pull you up his body. The motion was so fast that you had to catch yourself as your body tumbles on top of him. He reaches for your hand, still glistening from your sum to pop them into his mouth. Rafe’s tongue swirls around the digest, licking them clean and releasing them to kiss you. “Taste just as sweet like before.” He kisses you, turning your bodies so you are both laying on your sides.

He has a soft smile on his lips, hands rubbing up and down your arm as he regulates his breathing. “Did so good, sunny.” His eyes are barely open, fighting off the sleep threatening to overcome him. “Yeah?” You whisper resting your head on his shoulder, feeling a sense of comfort with his arms wrapped around you. Snoring mets your ears as sleep takes you along with it. For the second night in a row, you go to bed with the taste of him still lingering on your taste buds.

#rafe x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #rafe obx #obx #rafe cameron

[cuteskunkz]

╭──────────.★..─╮

One Night With You

~ Part 3 ~

╰─..★.──────────╯

(Mike Schmidt x Reader)

Summary~ The night starts to heat up between you and Mike after a few shots. 1.7k word count

Read part 1 & part 2 for context <3

Tags~ SMUTTT, pet names, olderbf! Mike (you're 20, he's 28), fem reader, public-ish sex, dominant Mike, submissive reader, creampie, drinking

Note~ I wrote this is a day!!???!!! Big shout out to my coworker Malachi who helped me with the direction of this fic! Heads up, I did minimal proofreading on this hoe bc it's deadass 3am and I have to be up in 5 hours for work (send help). I'm debating if I want to continue with this story so if you want me to update lemme know :33

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You furrow your brows with determination, "Fine! Don't expect me to drag you home when you black out though!"

"You actually think 3 shots are gonna fuck me up that bad? You're hilarious" he chuckles as he tilts his glass towards you. You take the shots in unison and glare at each other, scanning for any reactions to the alcohol.

Mike hiccups finally giving you the opportunity to pester him. "Aww is it too much for you? Should we slow down?" you assert in a sarcastic and flirtatious voice.

He flutters his eyes trying his best to adjust to the intoxication, "You won't be laughing when I say that to you later tonight..." Mike says while holding back a laugh

You punch him in the arm and giggle, "Oh yeah?" You gulp back your third shot, immediately feeling the sense of relaxation hit. It's like all your problems and worries fade away into nothingness when you drink. You meet Mike's gaze, wanting to hear more about him. "So... what's up with you lately? If you're going to take me out, the least you can do is tell me a few of your secrets."

"I mean, life's been rough lately but... when isn't it, Y'know? It's one always one thing after another." You can hear the frustration in his voice as he swirls around his glass, avoiding eye contact. Mike looks around the bar and then down at your hands.

"Yeah... I know. My fucking job blows and all I want to do is just- start fresh... no more late nights working my ass off just to miss rent again." The drunken state you're in is allowing your emotions to spill out with no hesitation.

"Believe me I'm in the same boat. I mean..." he sighs and rubs his temples. "I work as security for an abandoned pizzeria like....it's fucking abandoned! What am I actually securing dude!" Mike buries his face in his hands, feeling insane for working such a dead end job. "There's people my age with degrees and real accomplishments under their belt and what am I doing? Wasting my life days at a time for shit hours and pay."

You grab his hand and hold it tight. "Mike... I'm literally a stripper... I'm in no place to judge" you say in an attempt to lighten the mood and smile at him. "We do what we do for a reason, right? To keep a roof over our heads... and to go out drinking!" He chuckles at your words and takes a deep breath.

"Yeah...." Mike grips your hand tighter and wets his lips before speaking, "You wanna take a walk?"

"Sure! Fresh air won't hurt." He holds your hand to help you out of the booth and guides you to the parking lot. With it being a small town it, isn't so crowded out. Cars occasionally pass by as the warm breeze cools you both down. You look up at the night sky, amazed by the twinkling stars. Mike stares at you longingly and smirks. He can't think back to the last time a girl made him feel the way he does right now

"Isn't it so beautiful, Mike?" you say while gazing at the stars.

"Yeah.... definitely" he responds still taking in your features. His chest tightens and thoughts begin to race in his head. Mike didn't want to ruin the moment by taking things too fast but god did you look breathtaking right now. "So beautiful..."

You peer down at him and notice he hadn't looked up once and was fully referring to you. This causes a pink color to rush across your cheeks and you move closer to him. He caresses your cheek and plays with a strand of your hair. "Y-you... you don't have a boyfriend, right?"

You seductively respond back at him, "You want to change that, sir?" Mike swiftly wraps his hand around the back of your neck to bring you in to meet his lips. His kiss is hungry for more, clearly desperate for your embrace. He's completely given up on taking it slow.

You pull away and look up at him, your eyes glassy from the drinks. The lip gloss you wore transferred onto his lips. "You sure about this? I know we were drinking and I don't want-"

"Mike..." you roll your eyes at him, wanting him to take control.

"I just don't want to be too rough on you... or ruin my chance with you." he says in a low voice.

"All that flirting earlier and you're backing out now? Don't you want to..." you pout at him playfully, "teach me a lesson for going out with strangers?" A little giggle escapes you when suddenly you're grabbed by the wrist and dragged to the alley next to the bar.

"Do you want this? Yes or no. No bullshit, tell me now." he exclaims as you're backed up against the wall, him towering over you.

"Y-yes sir I do..."

He reaches his hand up your skirt and feels up and down your lacy panties. "You wore these for me, hm?"

"Y-yeah I did... Do you like them?"

"Of course I do sweetheart. Very kind of you to do that for me" He starts pulling them to the side, eager to feel your arousal. He slips his finger in to rub small circles with your wetness. "All that from some kisses? What an eager little girl, so adorable"

"I really like you- that's all!" You're not sure why Mike is making you feel this shy and bashful. You'd like to think you're very dominating towards men due to your profession but he's proving this to be false very quickly.

He grabs you by your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes and speaks. "Promise me that if at any point you feel uncomfortable or want to stop, you'll tell me...okay?"

You mumble this promise over and over again while feeling up on him through his jeans, your excitement for what's to come literally dripping out of you.

"That's a good girl. You're an amazing listener, do you know that? Keep it up, kiddo" he teases. He turns you around to face the brick wall and pushes your skirt up. "You ready for me?"

You nod your head quickly, overcome with passion.

"Use your words, pretty girl. You can do it."

"Yes... I'm ready, I promise!"

"Yes, who?" Mike says in a commanding manner.

"Yes, sir..." Your legs tremble uncontrollably and your breath accelerates, something about the thrill of possibly being caught is turning up the heat.

He slowly pushes into you, letting you adjust to his cock. "Theeere we go... How does that feel, babygirl?" He bottoms out, his tip kissing your cervix ever so slightly.

"It's g-good sir... feels good" The euphoria from the shots and his length are sure to collaborate with each other in your body.

Mike starts to thrust slowly, using your hips as leverage. Small whimpers and moans slip out of you. "I bet it does... You're so tight around me... I seriously don't know how you're not taken already... A pretty girl with a tight pussy like this should be fuckin' married by now."

He pounds into your cunt harder almost as if he's mad at you for being single. The sound of skin on skin fills the dark alley. Your eyes roll backwards when he hits your sweet spot repeatedly, pushing you closer to the edge of breaking. "Sir p-please... can't go for much longer... S'too much" you beg.

"You can take more, I know you can. Hang in there for me, okay? He says this in such a genuine way, it's only making you fall for him more. You're really hoping this isn't a one night stand situation.

He grunts and moves his hands around your neck, putting you into pretty much a headlock. His cock throbs violently in you, threatening to release soon. "Fuuckk I needed this..." You arch your back against him allowing for your g-spot to be avoided as to not cum quickly.

He instantly noticed this shift and pulls you back up, "You wanted this, don't run now..." There's a hint of condescension in his words. You moan loudly when he juts harshly into your poor pussy, leaking with fervor.

"Can you stay quiet for me baby? Just a little longer, okay? We can't have people finding us out here, right?"

"B-but sir-"

"No buts princess... That's a direction. What happened to my good little listener?"

You pout and bite your lip to hold in the moans begging to topple out of you. Only small whimpers and whines allowed you remind yourself mentally as he continues on. He purposely rubs on your spot with his thick cock and sneaks a hand down to toy with your swollen clit, guaranteeing to make you cum any second.

"M'gonna... gonna cum... Mike please!!!"

"Cum on my cock like a good girl, baby. You deserve it after all..." You quiver and whimper as you reach your limit, your pussy clenching down onto his member. You squirt from the stimulation, dripping down on your legs and leaving a wet spot on his jeans. Mike's thrusts get sloppier and his moans get heavier simultaneously.

"Y-you're on the pill, r-right?" You nod aggressively with his hand over your mouth to block your screams of pleasure. "G-good... gonna ffuckin' cum inside- shit... fucccckk...." He pumps all his cum into you, whining into your ear. He keeps his cock stuffed inside your hole so he can catch his breath.

"You did very very well baby.... I'm proud of you" he says while stroking your hair. When he pulls out, little drips of cum leak down your thighs. Mike pulls your panties back into place and pats you on the head. "Ready to head home, little one?"

You turn around to face him and smile from being fully fucked out and cockdrunk. "Cooould I... come home with you maybe?"

⊱✿⊰

#josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #mike schimdt fanfic #mike schmidt x you #fnaf movie #josh futturman #josh hutcherson smut #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader #peeta mellark #jhutch #burn 2019 #billy burn #derek danforth x reader #derek danforth #the beekeeper #fnaf movie smut #fnaf movie fanfic #fanfic #fnaf #Spotify

[lemongogo]

sry its been like a monster of a thing for weeks now and i legiterally feel like ths

#me when i want 2 blow up and fade away ~~ #i need a new hobby. #i shld learn how 2 make dolls. like the one w the ceramic faces .. huuuu… T__T

[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

[ao3]

prompt: 1800s price/reader…. reader flees to his town where Price is the sheriff after a murder in her previous town only to be mistaken for the mail order bride that Price just sent for ….and he’s not interested in hearing any of her excuses when she tells him that he’s got the wrong girl (part 4) part 1, part 2, part 3

-

You remember the lock turning on the door of another room.

Ice flooding your veins. Heart suddenly tripling in speed, flush against your breastbone, close to snapping your ribs and pumping right out. A man standing in front of the locked door, barring your only way out. Petrified, but not confused; it’d always been an inevitability, something you’d long been waiting to happen, but hoping beyond hope that maybe you’d skirt by it unscathed. 

You’re in a bedroom, but you’re also in a study hundreds of miles away, cabinets along the walls filled with jade carvings and porcelain trinkets, bookcases filled with untouched first editions with the spines still stiff, a leather chair tucked into wide mahogany desk, and a grandfather clock ticking ominously in the corner. And you’re watching a man come into the room and lock the door, shutting you both inside. 

There is a bust of the same man in the corner of the room. When you sink into the memory, your eyes drag there and hold.

“Honey? Honey, are you alright?”

You come back to yourself at the sound of another man’s voice. When you blink, the memory leeches out of the corners of your eyes and you find Price looking down at you with some concern, a slight furrow between his brows. You shudder out the memory until it’s wrung out, until you’re dry of it. Sweat cools on the back of your neck. There’s a tremble in your hand that you notice when you go to rub your forehead, a shake that even Price notices, taking your wrist and pulling it to his chest.

There is no bust in the corner of the room here. The man that locked the door holds your wrist tenderly to his chest and waits for you to answer, his lips still sloped down. The black spots fade from your vision one by one, panic retreating back into your bones. It leaves a too big hole inside of you. 

You know it’s still within you. It slumbers in the marrow of your bones; it cowers in there, sometimes close enough to kiss or close enough to cradle your head and crack it against the nearest ledge. 

“Honey?” he asks again. The deep tenor of his voice moves something back to life inside of you, as much as it pains you to admit. Even to yourself. 

You blink up at him, only realizing how dry your mouth is when you croak out, “I’m—I’m alright. Apologies.”

He doesn’t seem much convinced. Perhaps he has a right to doubt your words. You can’t see the tormented thing staring back at him. 

“I’ve given you a few too many frights today,” Price sighs, head dropping towards you, like drawing a curtain around the two of you. “Thought maybe you needed a bit of a push, but you’re not quite there, darling, are you?”

“Not where?” you ask, lost. “Where am I not?”

For once, he doesn’t answer, doesn’t try to force his vision into your head. It shocks you when he dips his head to press his lips against your forehead, lingering there for several moments. Breathing you in. You let him linger there, half-curious yourself, a softness suffusing into you like breath. 

“Are you hungry enough to eat? Or straight to bed?”

His words give you a nervous thrill, but when you catch his eye, there’s nothing to read there. Absent of double meaning. He’s asking you if you’re hungry and if you’re wanting to eat. 

“No.” You shake your head. “I’m still…well, I’ve had a bit of a cramp all afternoon. I don’t think I’m up to eating.”

“Not even tea or cake?”

The thought intrigues you, but not enough for your stomach to untwist. “Tomorrow, maybe.”

He hums against your forehead, then presses another kiss there, then a third on your temple, breathing out a puff of air that blows across your face and tickles your nose. “Not hungry for anything then,” he surmises, and you hear it there, the silvery flipside of an innuendo. You scrunch up your nose and flinch when he chuckles. “How about just a bath then? And then we’ll tuck in for the night.” 

“That sounds nice. Do you, um…I could help if you want?"

“Already fetched the water earlier today. Wash tub’s downstairs. You can stay here or come down and wait until the water’s warm.”

Finally, he pulls back and puts some space between the two of you. Something buried deep in your chest clicks when he unlocks the door and steps out. You try not to look at it too hard. 

You follow him downstairs, more out of habit than anything. With the water already fetched from the well and Price starting a fire to heat it up enough for a warm bath, there’s not much for you to do besides wait, but you join him downstairs anyway, taking the time to look around. 

“Toothpowder, brushes, and mint are in the drawer under the sink if you need any,” Price tells you. You don’t bother with the mint, but you use the rest to clean your teeth in the bathroom sink, a bowl of water already waiting for you to help rinse your mouth. You rethink the mint afterwards, chewing on a couple of leaves to rid your mouth of the chalky aftertaste. 

It takes awhile to heat up enough water for a bath, giving you time to peruse the rest of the house. After spending the bulk of your day locked up in his room, it’s nice to stretch your legs and move about. The rest of the house is fairly typical, barebones; Price heats up the water in a stone fireplace in the main room and at the other end of the house, you find the kitchen.

The crickets in the bushes out front are louder than you’ve ever heard them. For a moment, you stand alone by the front door, fingers twitching by your sides. It wouldn’t do you any good to run, but your feet feel quick now, light after hours of rest. You could bolt like an Appaloosas if you wanted to. 

Then Price calls your name and you drift back to the other room.

Steam billows off the water in the metal tub. It’s only halfway filled, which makes you frown; you have no right to be picky after the days you’ve spent cleaning yourself with a damp washcloth over a porcelain bowl, but you can’t help thinking that it’ll hardly come up to your waist. Still, staring at the warm water makes your skin itch; you could practically kiss the bar of soap sitting on the floor next to the tub. If there wasn’t a man in the room, your dress would already be on the floor. 

“Are you still waiting on more to heat up?” you ask, casting a glance at the fireplace where a small flame still burns. There isn’t a bucket of water hovering over it though, just a poker stowed back in its place. 

“Any more and I’ll be mopping up water for the rest of the night,” he huffs. “That’s more than enough for us.”

“Us?” you repeat. 

It only makes sense when you turn around and stare wide-eyed at Price as he untucks his shirt and starts at the buttons, each one slipped through the hole exposing a new inch of chest covered in dark hair. You make a noise at the back of your throat, half-aghast. The other half, indeterminate. If your feet weren’t glued to the floor, you’d stop him or grab his hands. Instead, you watch mutely as he pulls off his shirt and unbuttons his pants, mouth drying at each new slab of muscle revealed.

You swallow reflexively when his pants pool around his ankles on the floor. You catch a glimpse of thick thighs covered in dark hair and something heavy dangling between his legs before you avert your eyes, staring straight up at the ceiling. Sure to give yourself a kink in your neck, but perhaps forgivable this time. 

“Us?” It comes out squeaky this time, high and tight in your throat. Price laughs.

When he moves towards you, you can hardly so much as lift a finger to keep him at bay. Your body feels tethered in place, sluggish and inert. The world moves around you instead, doubly so when Price fits his hands at your waist and twists you to face away from him. 

Big hands ruck up the fabric of your dress, slowly pulling it over your head. You lift your arms for him on command, the whole time baffled by how little struggle you put up. You imagine him telling that deputy of his what an obedient little bride he’s found for himself. 

“Us,” Price confirms, emphasizing the word the same way you did. “We’d be here all night if we took turns. Water’d be ice cold by then too. You’d rather I freeze my nethers off?” You open your mouth to reply but he cuts you off. “Don’t answer that.”

That pulls a real giggle from your chest, shocking you both. Breath sits like a bubble in your chest. You feel his fingers still at the ties of your corset before pulling it through. 

He loosens each lace slowly, giving each a gentle pull. It’s nerve wracking, nail-biting tedium, the corset gradually giving way to his touch and drooping into your waist. You let him undo each of the hooks and unwrap it from your torso before pulling off your chemise underneath, flesh chilling in the open air. Even stationed behind you, you feel his stare like a heavy, weighted thing. His fingertips trace over the naked skin of your back, looping small circles just for the pleasure of touching your skin. 

Gooseflesh runs down the length of your arms, shivering from his touch as much as the cool air. You tell yourself that it means nothing just to put it all away.

“Alright, let’s get you washed up,” he says gruffly, clearing his throat. “Been awhile since you had a warm bath, I bet.” 

You turn part way around, watching him from the corner of your eye. If only he knew. 

Price gets in the tub first and it’s immediately obvious to you why he hardly filled the tub. His body takes up so much room that you frown when you realize that he expects you to get in next. It’s one of the bigger tubs you’ve ever bathed in and yet he still has to bend his knees. The sigh he lets out after relaxing against the back of the tub makes you shiver. 

When he glances up at you swelteringly, you hear the evocation unspoken. 

“If you’d just give me a minute,” you snap. 

“Darlin’.” 

The note of warning in his voice finally tips you over the edge of hesitancy where you’d been precariously balanced. 

The water is still warm when you dip a foot tentatively in. It’s easier to ignore the indulgent smile on Price’s face than engage with it, sure you’d shout yourself hoarse if you finally let your composure crack. 

You think it vaguely humiliating to have to turn around in front of Price in the tub in order to lower yourself to sit. He doesn’t touch you yet, but there’s no way to avoid the weight of his eyes on your backside. It’s not something you’ve thought about much before. A man’s hands on you, stripped bare for him, lowering yourself into a hot bath with him. 

You peek over your shoulder. “Do you ever stop staring?”

A pointless question. He doesn’t even meet your eye to respond, just stares at the curve of your ass with heavy lidded eyes, the faintest pink hue high on his cheeks. He hums instead. You purse your lips.

The water sloshes up the side of the tub when he pulls you down abruptly, settling your back against his chest. You stiffen in the cradle of his arms and chest, acutely aware of every point of your body pressed into his. When Price sighs now, it reverberates through your back and chest. 

“Why does it feel like you’ve been run against a whetstone?” he asks. The sound drips heavy from his lips because the room is silent apart from him, apart from the gentle lapping of the bath water against the sides of the tub and the water trickling from the washcloth when he lifts it out of the water and gives it a wring. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, frowning. 

“You’re all sharp, all hard edges. If I’m not careful, you might run me through.”

“You should’ve thought of that before you married me,” you huff. 

That gets another laugh out of him, raising your hackles. It’s hard to differentiate between ridicule and endearment. You opt for the former to guard yourself, to keep yourself safe. 

“I’ll take my chances.”

You can’t think of a way to respond to that. It’s loaded in an uncomfortable way. It’s easier to just let it pass into silence. Price doesn’t seem anxious for you to respond anyway, thankfully, instead reaching out of the tub to grab the bar of soap still on the floor. The movement pushes his pelvis into you, the length between his legs pressing against the small of your back. You jolt forward only for him to wrap an arm around your waist and haul you back. More water splashes over the rim.

“Christ, you’re skittish,” he gripes. 

“What do you expect me to do?” You squirm in his hold, which only makes his arm constrict tighter around you, drawing you even closer. 

“Sit there and let me wash you, for one. What’s got you all riled up?”

“You know exactly what,” you say, face hot when you feel it press against you again. 

“My—”

“Yes, that,” you hiss, digging your nails into his forearm. 

“Squirming around isn’t gonna make it go away,” Price teases, squeezing once before finally letting you go. You scoot forward as much as he allows, but it’s for naught; you can feel it press against you still. 

In the brief silence, Price lathers up the cloth until it froths, then puts the bar of soap back down on the floor. You almost stop him to say that you can wash yourself, but he starts on your arms before you’re so much as able to part your lips. 

Your nipples bead when he drags the washcloth over your chest. The material is coarse, almost abrasive, and when you wince, Price murmurs a soft apology into your ear. He’s softer when he pulls your legs one after the other from the water and sets your foot on the rim of the tub, dragging the cloth over your calves and up the inside of your thighs. You shake when his hand disappears under the water, biting your lip until it hurts.

You sit with the silence instead of electing to fill it. It’s better that way anyway; words can unravel so many interiorities that long for stasis. And what has the man at your back done to earn your words anyway, besides lock you up and throw away the key?

You’ll figure your way out eventually. It’s only a matter of time. 

His own washup is perfunctory, performed only to get it over with. None of the affection reserved for washing you. He barely makes you lean forward before dragging the cloth haphazardly across his chest, getting a few good scrubs in before calling it a day. 

“I can’t imagine why you’d spend so much time filling a bath just to wash up in five minutes,” you say, peering over your shoulder at him. Expressly not focusing on the pillowy muscles of his chest or the dark, wet hair now flush with his skin. 

“Haven’t used the tub in months,” he grunts, dunking the cloth in the bath water until it comes out clean. He wrings it dry before hanging it over the rim. “There’s a creek out back, ‘bout a ten minute walk from here.”

You frown. “You usually bathe in a creek?” 

“What’s the point in spending time heating up enough water for a bath when there’s a perfectly good creek nearby? Water’s water.”

“You did it for me.”

“That’s different.”

You roll your eyes. “It shouldn’t be.”

“You like to fuss over nothing, huh?” Price remarks. Again, it’s said so earnestly that it makes your skin prickle. 

When you stand, the water rushes off you in a wave, leaving you slick and cooling rapidly in the air. Your teeth clatter until he steps out of the tub to fetch you a towel, wrapping you up in it and patting you dry. You get a bit dizzy when he kneels before you to dry your legs, swaying on your feet. Under your breath, you mumble something like, you don’t have to. 

He ignores you. For reasons unbeknownst to you, you let it go. 

Your bare feet pick up stray dust and debris on your way back up the stairs alone. You wipe them off on the mat at the door before changing into your shift while Price empties the tub downstairs. The oil lamp on the bedside table illuminates most of the room when you light the wick and delicately put the chimney back in place, apart from the elongated shadows that hang from the corners like spiderwebs. 

The bed looks different when you know you’re meant to share it. You try not to tense up too much when you hear Price come up the stairs, eyeing him nervously from the other side of the room. 

“You’ve got that look again, darling,” he says, shutting the door behind him. He doesn’t lock it this time. The knot in your shoulder aches when they untense. 

“What look?” you ask, averting your gaze when he drops the towel to change into his nightwear.

“Like a doe.”

You snort, distinctly unladylike. “Like a deer before it’s shot?”

“The very same. Didn’t I tell you it’d be straight to bed?”

You open your mouth but nothing comes out. In the back of your mind, you must have assumed he was placating you, saying words just to soothe. It’s rare that men speak plainly and mean it. Over the years, you’ve learned to read into second meanings and real intentions couched in soft words. Men like to think themselves simple, but you know a vast underground world. 

Some part of you grows anxious with your own inability to play the part of his simpering wife. He must have thought he’d be taking to bed something nurturing and with wings. It’d be easier if you just acquiesced; you can’t imagine he’d worry so much about his doting wife fleeing in the middle of the night. Not the wife happy to spread her legs for him.

“Why are you so patient?” you ask him outright instead. 

He takes a moment to answer, studying you. His face by lamplight is inscrutable. “Nothing good comes plucked too soon.”

“You don’t think that God gave you the right to—” You can’t say the words, but he understands. 

“The methods of God take pickaxes and shovels to uncover,” Price says, so simply, so plainly. You hardly understand what he means. “It’s not a man’s place to rush to understand His intentions.”

You think it’s almost unfair for a man to say those words to you when you plan on running away from him. It makes you dig your nails into the palms of your hands. 

You’re still nervous when you crawl into bed, eyeing him when he settles on his side and turns the lamp off, cupping his palm around the glass and blowing out the flame. There’s little to worry about though. Price doesn’t so much as shift from his side of the bed. 

The world outside is beyond gold and red now, when you stare out the window from where you lie on your side. When you think of the past, it comes with a searing pain. Then, it is no more.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #captain price #captain john price #cod price #john price #price x you #price x reader #price/reader #john price x reader

[tainted-liquor]

'Basketball Wife'

"Back the fuck up, thank you." - Miles G. Morales Earth42!Miles Morales x Booksmart!Reader TWs: Cursing, n I think that's it Ingredients: Sugar, kisses, and a lil bit of smiles! W/C: 980? A/N: This was another request that I rlly loved working on! Enjoy luvs ꨄ

You and your boyfriend, Miles, had been dating for around 10 months or so. He didn't have the best reputation with the faculty, skipping out on certain classes, having the lowest participation score out of most of the students, and overall wasn't a very happy camper. It's not like his grades were bad, oh hell no! He just wasn't a very optimistic person and opted to fade into the background of most people's lives. Which for some reason had the opposite effect, inducing random girls and, very very rarely, boys to throw themselves at him just to say 'I know Miles.'

Now when he decided to join his school's basketball team, shit only got worse for him. He used to eat his food in the lunch room until a pool of girls decided to sit near him in an attempt to snatch his attention. This obviously pissed Miles off even more, pushing him further back into the shadows and closing himself off even more from the people around him. So he decided to eat in the library. It was empty for the most part, with about 5 students eating together and talking, one of them being you. There you sat with your group of girls, chatting away about random topics, ignoring the rather aggressive slam of the library door. For you, it was just another lunch before you went back to your classes.

As you skipped to your 5th-period class, you parted ways with your friend Kayla as you prepared to be assigned the 2-person project your teacher had gone over yesterday. You obviously weren't a fan of work, but you were excited regardless to choose your partner. So when class got started and the teacher announced he would be ASSIGNING your partners? Honey, you were pissed off. The class erupted full of irritated groans and 'Oh my god's as he listed off the names, choosing the oddest combos you'd ever heard in your life. He called your name, and then Miles as you rolled your eyes slightly. Really, you wanted to be with your best friend Amai, but you didn't have much of a choice, did you?

When the teacher finished reading off the list of pairs, everyone scattered across the room to sit next to their partner. So you moved accordingly, scooting your desk over to Miles's with a couple of noisy scrapes. He wasn't exactly rude, just didn't really seem interested. You really didn't feel like explaining what you wanted to do to someone who wasn't listening, so you just decided to compromise.

"Look, we don't have to talk at all, but at least come find me today so we can work on this project. We don't even have to speak, just correct something or write notes on the slides."

So you met every day for the next 2 weeks in the library, with Miles gradually warming up to you as you spent more time together. He went from saying 2-3 words a day to you to having full-fledged debates on random topics. Even when the project was over, he still hung around. Inviting you to watch him practice for his games, putting you on his cfs story on insta, and stationing you in the front row every time he had a basketball game without fail. So it wasn't necessarily a surprise when he asked you out.

You snuck around together for the next 10 months, not really wanting to deal with questions about each other. You had grades to keep up, and he didn't want to attract any attention. Spending minimal time together during school hours but hanging out in Miles's dorm or his house after hours, spending countless nights in each other's arms. He asked you to come to yet another one of his basketball games, to which you happily agreed to make an appearance.

You sat on the benches as you silently cheered for Miles, giving him discreet little heart signs and blowing tiny kisses in his direction every now and again. He winked at you, and no sooner than he did you heard a girl behind you begin to blab on.

"Bitch he winked at me! Oh my god!"

You felt a vein in your temple tense, exercising all of the strength in your body to not turn around. She stepped down a row, sitting slightly close to you as you watched her wave frantically, which Miles ignored. The game went on for about another 45 minutes, with Home scoring the winning shot. The court erupted with loud cheering, you had that same amount of school pride as you yelled along with the crowd. As the team celebrated in the middle of the court, a few players walked over to whoever was important to them in the crowd fixed on the benches.

Miles made a quick glance at you before briefly nodding backward, indicating for him to follow him to the back like you would usually do. Just as you were getting your stuff ready, that dumb bimbo quickly hopped up to grab at his arm. He wasted absolutely zero time in pushing her off, giving her a rather stern "I have a girlfriend. Back the fuck up, thank you." with a grimace that said nothing but pure disgust. He jogged up to you, pulling you from the front of the bleachers and pulling you into a deep kiss. A couple people perked up at the action, watching as two people who seemingly didn't even know each other casually kissed in the middle of the court.

Bitches were mad that day, their delusions coming to a very sharp halt as the reality of Miles's girlfriend smacked them like a backhand from Floyd Mayweather. But you didn't give a single fuck as Miles cooed a gentle "I love you, mi amor." Into your ear. You knew who he preferred over everyone in the school; that mattered to you.

#across the spiderverse #atsv #into the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #miles morales #e!42 miles morales #earth 42 miles #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles morales x reader

[hier--soir]

whole new can of worms

joel miller x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: two friends decide to blow off a little steam together. warnings/tags: [18+ minors DNI] fwb!joel, famous HOG joel miller lmao, age gap [20 years], language, alcohol consumption, established friendship, guitar playing joel!!, oral [f and m recieving], p in v sex, starts slow and careful and ends up rough oops. word count: 6.9k (nice) series masterlist | masterlist a/n: okay LOOK. i’m working on a final part to this little impromptu series, but I got very side-tracked with the idea of a prequel and then the most smut I’ve ever written just fucking spilled out of me. this is the first time they had sex, ladies and gentlemen. you get the beginning before you get the end. enjoy. also, this moment from tlou pt 2 game is what i was picturing for the beginning when joel is playing the song. dont watch if you don't want to, its from a cut scene very late in the second game. zero spoilers, just joel miller strumming that damn guitar in a way i'll never forget. this is part one of my fwb!joel series. you can find the other parts here: two, three, four.

“Play that one I like.”

Joel offered no verbal response, but sat up straighter in his chair, fingers adjusting along the fretboard of his guitar. You relaxed into your seat, closing your eyes and taking a long sip from your glass of amber liquor.

He began playing and you smiled happily, goosebumps breaking out across your skin as the familiar tune filled the air between you and your friend, melding with the sound of rain softly pattering against the roof of his veranda. You kicked your feet up onto the table between you, the tense muscles in your legs aching from the stretch.

“Get your feet off the table,” Joel muttered, fingers never ceasing on the instrument. “Animal.”

Your eyes stayed closed, but you stuck your tongue out in his direction, smirking a little and keeping your feet up, knowing he didn’t really mind.   

Both of you had endured a long fucking day.

Winter was fading into Spring, and the trees and plants in Jackson were slowly but surely beginning to bloom again. It meant you were spending more hours in the green house than out on patrol, and you weren’t complaining. Tending to the garden relaxed you, connected you to nature and to one of the food sources in the commune that helped put a little bit of food on everyone’s plate each week. Working there made you feel connected to the town, and you loved it, truly. Except, for when a thunderstorm happened.

They’d scared you for as long as you could remember. Since you were a kid, thunder and lightning had made you want to crawl under the covers on your bed and hide away until the loud noises disappeared. But as a full-grown woman, you weren’t afforded such luxuries. Rain, hail or shine, the people in Jackson depended on each other, and you couldn’t duck out of a shift because of a silly little phobia.

When the rain started pouring down on the glass roof of the greenhouse you hadn’t been surprised. Only a few weeks into springtime, the town was still shaking off the remnants of a bitterly cold winter, and a little rain was still common. It was only when the first crack of thunder sounded that you’d stilled, hands frozen gripping a heavy pot, an unwelcome shiver racing down your spine. You’d had to work for hours, the sound of rain pelting against the roof accompanying you, with flashes of lightning appearing out of the corner of your eye all day.

When all was said and done, you’d trudged through the downpour to Joel’s house and arrived on his doorstep looking like a drowned rat, only to find out that he’d spent his afternoon stuck outside on patrol, in the very weather you were so upset about.

He’d opened the door with damp hair, bundled in warm clothes, the tip of his nose a light shade of pink from the cold.

“Whiskey?” he’d asked.

You nodded. “Whiskey.”

And so the pair of you had ended up on his porch, under cover from the residual spit of rain, forgetting all about the shit day through good company and good alcohol.

As Joel strummed the last few chords of the song you sighed glumly, cracking an eye open to watch him. He set the guitar down gently and reached for his glass.

“So beautiful,” you murmured. “Wish I could play.”

“And then what use would I be?” he chuckled. “Can’t have you learning guitar; I’d have no one to play for anymore.”

You watched him closely. Staring into his glass, you could see him mulling the words over in his head. Ellie had hardly spoken a word to him in weeks, and you could see the toll it was taking, although you never pried. Clearly, something had happened, and although you and Joel were close, you hadn’t wanted to insert yourself into whatever drama had consumed his little found family. It made your chest hurt though, to watch him miss that girl. He’d always loved playing for her.

“Good thing I’m lazy then,” you mused softly. “Swear I couldn’t play an instrument with a gun to my head. I’ll need to keep you around.”

“Works for me,” he said, refilling both your glasses. “You on the patrol roster tomorrow?”

You shook your head, accepting the glass with a grateful smile. A slight buzz warmed your insides, fighting to keep your body temperature up as the cool breeze licked at your exposed hands and face. “Nope, I’m a free agent tomorrow, no responsibilities.”

“God damn,” he rolled his eyes. “Gonna be stuck out there all alone with Tommy.”

“Devastating,” you grinned. “I’m way better company.”

“Too right,” Joel agreed. “What’s your plan for the day, little miss no responsibilities? Still reading that book I found you?”

Probably masturbate. The thought zipped through your mind so suddenly that you felt your chest warm, and you cleared your throat softly.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Probably just read for a while. Dinner at Maria and Tommy's, remember?”

You hoped he didn’t see through the lie, because the truth was that you were embarrassed by yourself. Only a few days before you’d been struck by the realisation that you hadn’t had sex, or even been touched intimately by another person, in months. In fact, you noted sullenly, it had been half a fucking year. And you were struggling. It was your longest dry spell in a while, and every night lately you’d found yourself tangled up in your bed with your hand in your underwear, wishing desperately that someone, anyone, else was there with you.

Trying to ward off the unsavoury thoughts filling your mind, you took a deep gulp of whiskey and shut your eyes, contemplating asking if he had any cigarettes laying around.

Suddenly, a deep groan pierced the air between you and your eyes shot open. What the fuck?

With wide eyes, you saw that Joel was gripping his right leg tightly, thumb rubbing deep circles into the skin above his knee cap, and you forced yourself to relax. A sound of pain, you realised. But your heart had stuttered in your chest, because as out of character as it would’ve been, with your eyes closed it had sounded like a vaguely sexual noise. You rolled your eyes, willing yourself to get a grip. But it had been so long, and the sound of a man groaning in any way was enough to light a fire in your stomach.

“It’s the cold,” he noticed your stare. “Makes my knee ache.”

You nodded knowingly, eyes watching as his large hand gripped his thigh, applying pressure to the tender area.

“What’s up your ass?” Joel asked.

“Huh?” your gaze flashed up to meet his and found him watching you closely, eyebrows furrowed.

“You’re frownin’,” he said. “Gone all quiet suddenly.”

“So are you,” you huffed defensively, face warming. “You always fucking frown, I can’t do it one time?”

“No,” he grinned cheekily, stilling rubbing his knee. “I frown enough for the both of us. You can figure somethin’ else out.”  

You let out a begrudging chuckle and felt the indent between your eyebrows relax.

“Seriously,” he pushed. “What’s wrong? Is it too cold? We should move inside.”

“No,” you cringed, scratching the side of your neck awkwardly. Lowering your legs off the table you sat up a little straighter in your chair. “It’s good out here, I like it. I’m just… distracted, I don’t know.”

“What’s on your mind?” he sipped his whiskey.

Without needing any more prompting, you gave up on beating around the bush. “When’s the last time you had sex?”

A choked sound escaped him, and he swallowed quickly, coughing into his elbow. “Christ, what?”

“I’m not,” your cheeks were on fire. “I’m not thinking about you having sex, relax. I was thinking about me having sex. Or not having sex, to be more precise.”

He coughed again, an awkward expression flashing across his face.

You and Joel had been friends for a few years now, since he and Ellie returned to Jackson and decided to settle in the commune. After being friends with Tommy for a few years before that, you’d fallen into a natural friendship with his older brother. It was no secret that there was 20 odd year age difference between you and Joel, but in a post-apocalyptic world, it had never phased either of you. Friends were friends, and an age gap didn’t impact much. But sex was a topic that had seldom come up in conversation over those few years. Here and there maybe, but never in detail, and never so candidly.

“I almost walked in on Shae and Petra fucking the other day,” you continued plainly. “She was late for patrol, so I went over to see if she’d slept in, and I could hear them from outside the fucking house. Stood there like an ass for a minute, just listening like a creep.”

Joel watched you closely, and you noticed his hand gripped his glass a little tighter, fingertips white from the pressure “You… listened?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” you cringed, rubbing a hand over your face shamefully. “Just for a fucking second. Hadn’t realised how long it had been, and it was like my feet wouldn’t move.”

“I see.”

“You better not tell a soul about this,” you pointed at him threateningly. “I’ll end you if anybody finds out, Miller. I swear.”

“I believe you,” he snorted, holding his hands up in surrender. “My lips are sealed.”

You relaxed a little, relieved to discover that he wasn’t going to be as awkward about it as you’d first feared.

“How long has it been?”

Your eyes ticked up to stare at him again. “Like, six months or something.”

Joel let out a low whistle and nodded slowly, sipping from the crystal tumbler in his hand. “You poor soul.”

“Oh, come off it,” you scoffed in disbelief. “Don’t tell me you’re having sex and I’m not? This just keeps getting worse.”

“Fuck you,” he drawled mockingly, that deep Texan accent making you grin. “Would it be such a surprise if I was?”

“S’just bullshit,” you glowered, picking at your nails in frustration. Traces of soil still lined the creases in your palms and you rubbed at it furiously, in a fruitless attempt at cleaning them.  

“I’m not,” is all he said, and you frowned at him in confusion. “Havin’ sex,” he added with a smirk. "And it's been longer for me, so quit your whinin'."

You raised your eyebrows, appreciating the honesty. “Well thank god I’m not the only one.”

“Don’t know when I would,” he shrugged simply. “And who would I be having sex with, anyways? Spend all my fuckin’ time on patrol listening to Tommy talk for hours, or I’m sleepin’, or I’m with you.”

The thought itched so suddenly at the back of your brain, and you fought against it, shaking your head ever so slightly to push it away. Don’t think that. But it was persistent, and after a few moments of silence, your mind was filled with thoughts of you and Joel Miller fucking.

Admittedly, it was something you’d thought about once or twice when you’d first met him. He was a handsome guy, and his arrival in Jackson had definitely caused a stir among the women in the commune. But you’d fallen into a friendship so quickly, so comfortably, that the thought had never reared its ugly head again. Until now.

You watched him for a moment. His hair was dry at that point, and short messy curls framed his face and neck. He had neat dark facial hair, with sweet specks of ashy grey mixed in here and there. That familiar scar on the bridge of his nose. Lips that had gone a darker shade of pink from the cold, that you’d never realised looked quite so… plush. Eyes trailing down, your gaze raked over his hands. Long, calloused fingers that wrapped around almost the entirety of his glass. the warmth in your stomach spread downward, and you knew you should feel embarrassed at where your brain was taking you, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Images flashed through your mind of his hands gripping you like that. Fingers leaving marks on your thighs, on your neck. You shivered, looking away quickly.

“Fuck,” you sighed quietly, not even caring if he heard.

“Hey,” he said softly, assuming you were upset. “Someone’ll come along. We could talk to Tommy about setting you up or somethin’.”

You hummed noncommittally and turned in your chair to face him head on. Joel noticed and adjusted his position to do the same, raising an eyebrow. “What’s that look?” he asked, eyebrows pinching together.

Jesus, here goes nothing.

“What if we fucked?”

Joel stared. His jaw clenched almost imperceptibly, and he put his glass down on the table with a soft clink.

“What?” he said lowly, his voice taking on a sudden gravelly quality.

“I mean,” you searched desperately for the words to explain yourself, licking your lips nervously. “You said it yourself, we’re so busy, right? Always working, or sleeping, or we’re hanging out, you and me. So, what if we just… blew off a little steam together?”

His eyebrows had raised so dramatically you thought they might disappear into his hairline. It wasn’t often you managed to shock Joel, and you laughed gently at the astounded expression that decorated his face.  

“You want to blow off steam… with me?” he pointed lamely at his chest.

“Don’t sound so incredulous,” you joked. “You’re a catch, Joel. You know the teens call you a HOG, right? Hot old guy.“

“Shut up,” he held up a hand to silence you, his eyes squeezing shut tightly as you laughed at his embarrassment. “Don’t want to hear that shit.”

“It wouldn’t mean anything, Joel,” you reassured, veering back on topic. “We could just… help each other wind down after a long day.”

You watched each other in silence for a moment, and you noticed him shuffle slightly in his seat, hand gripping his knee once again. For a minute, you worried that you’d upset him. The friendship you two shared was strong, and you always known you could confide almost anything in him. He was trustworthy, and valued your word above so many others. But maybe this was over the line.

As you were about to speak again, about to take it all back and apologise for even suggesting it, he finally opened his mouth.

“It wouldn’t mean anything?” he clarified. “This won’t affect our friendship.”

You shook your head quickly. “Nothing at all. No strings, bud. Final offer.”

With a deep, rumbling sigh, Joel snatched his glass off the table and downed the remainder of its contents before standing up. “Alright then.”   

You’d been in Joel’s room a hundred times over the years. Hauling him out of bed for patrol after he’d accidentally slept in, or rifling through his chest of drawers to steal a thick pair of socks. But never for this reason. The pair of you stood awkwardly at the foot of his bed, staring at everything other than each other, as the air crackled with palpable tension.

Joel scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, and you smirked, unfamiliar with seeing him being unsure of himself.

“If you don’t want to, we can just forget I ever sai-“

“Just taking your fuckin’ clothes off,” he grunted, staring you down suddenly. Wide eyed, you felt a rush of heat through your thighs.

“Jesus,” you breathed. “Romance isn’t dead.”

He huffed out a laugh and your shoulders relaxed, happy to see a crack through his tense façade. Your tugged off your sweater, and then your shirt, tossing them over the chair in the corner of his room. Working quickly, you undid the zipper on your pants and pulled them down your legs until you were left in your underwear, a thin white singlet, and your socks.

You reminded yourself that Joel had already seen you naked, thinking back on a time when the two of you had gone skinny dipping in a lake you stumbled across on patrol the summer before. But this was so different. This wasn’t a random moment of spontaneity. And at the lake he'd been a gentleman, averting his eyes for the most part out of politeness, but now? Now he was watching your every move.

Silently, he undid the strap off his watch and placed it on the top of his dresser, before working to undo the buttons on his shirt. After he had tugged it off, you let your eyes trail over his exposed skin, and with no fabric covering him, you could see how quickly his chest rose and fell.

“Hey,” you said quietly, stepping forward and placing a hand on his chest. You felt his heart race under the warm skin and smiled. “It’s just me. Let me help you relax, okay?”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips quickly, and you wondered what it would be like to kiss him. You didn’t dwell on it though, and leaned forward to drag your lips across the skin of his neck. He smelt like rain and pine needles, and you inhaled deeply, pressing soft kisses along his pulse point. One of his hands landed heavily on your waist and his thumb begun rubbing encouraging circles over your hip bone. You hummed against his skin, pressing your chest against his. Exposed to the cool temperature, your nipples pebbled underneath your shirt, and from his exhale you knew he could feel them pressing against his bare chest.

With a slight tremor in your hand, you trailed your fingers down his chest. Through the soft hair smattered there, over the thick jagged scar on his stomach, to his belt buckle. Joel shivered lightly, gripping your waist a little tighter. You worked quickly to undo his belt, and then you dragged his zipper down. With a low sigh, you rested your hand over the front of his pants. He jolted slightly, hand sliding around your back to hold you tighter to his chest. With your face hidden in his neck, you couldn’t see his reaction, but you took the firm pressure of his hand on your back as a clear sign to continue. You palmed him gently through his pants, listening to the little puffs of air that rushed out of his nose as he kept his breathing calm. A surge of confidence rushed through you, and you stepped away, letting your hand fall away from him. His arm dropped from your back to his side, and he watched with bated breath as you lowered yourself onto your knees in front of him.

You gripped the waistband of his pants and started to drag them down his legs, helping him step out of them. Wearing nothing but a tight pair of briefs, it was impossible not to stare. You could see the shape of him through the dark fabric, your mouth salivated. More, you needed to see more. Without wasting a second, you tucked your fingers into the band of them and pulled them down slowly, giving him the chance to stop you if he wanted to. But he didn’t. He watched you with hooded dark eyes, chest moving with deep controlled breaths, his bottom lip tucked into his mouth. With his underwear gone, Joel’s cock finally came into your sight. He was only half hard, you realised with awe, and your stomach tingled as you realised what you were in for. Reaching out, your traced your fingers slowly over his hip bones, smiling as goosebumps broke out across his skin, before gently wrapping your fingers around him.

A shaky breath escaped from his nose.

“Is this okay?” you asked quietly, hand stroking softly along his length. He nodded jerkily. “Why don’t you sit on the bed?”

Joel dropped heavily onto the edge of his bed, and you moved forward to rest on your knees in between his parted legs, placing your hand back over him. The air in the room had turned humid, and you could feel sweat forming on your back out of anticipation. The only light source came from the moon shining in his window, bathing the both of you in a pale light.

“You’re so handsome,” you sighed wistfully, gripping him tighter. “I’ve always known it, but seeing you like this is different. So handsome, Joel.”

He reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, gripping your skin and massaging the knotted muscle at the top of your back. You groaned appreciatively, and without another moment’s hesitation, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his thigh. No more fucking around. You needed him.

Your hand stroked him firmer, tighter, but your mouth was salivating, desperate to taste him. So you dragged wet kisses along his leg until you reached his abdomen, and then you brought your wet mouth to hover over his cock. You heard his breath hitch and smiled devilishly, staring greedily at his ruddy tip, marvelling as a drop of precum leaked out of him. Painfully slow, you pushed forward and pressed a kiss to it, tongue darting out to swipe along him and taste his salt. Joel hissed in surprise, gripping your shoulder tighter as his other hand moved to the back of your head. Not putting any pressure there, just holding you. Lathing your tongue over his head, you moaned lowly at the taste of him. Salty and warm and masculine. You could feel your underwear sticking uncomfortably against you from how wet you were. Closing your eyes, you cupped his balls gently and pressed wet kisses down his length, dragging your tongue over the pulsing vein that ran from base to tip, and basking in the short gasps that flew out of his mouth.

“Stop teasin’,” he grumbled, and you looked up with a smirk to see his dark eyes glaring down at you.

“Sorry,” you lied, before taking his head into your warm mouth and sucking gently. Slowly, you pressed forward, taking more of him in. You felt him swell against your tongue, getting harder from the stimulation, and you hummed around him. He was so big. Maybe bigger than anyone you’d been with, and you struggled to take it all. He was so thick and heavy in your mouth, it was all you could think about. Consuming every thought, every feeling; all you could focus on was the weight of him on your tongue. You worked on creating a rhythm, bobbing your head and taking as much of him in your mouth as you could, while your hand gripped him at the base, stroking him at the same time.

And finally, finally, he made a sound.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned, drawing out the vowel as a heavy breath he’d been holding escaped his lungs. His fingers dragged through your hair roughly, gripping the back of your head. You pushed yourself forward, taking more of him in until he was pressing into your throat, and you swallowed tightly around him. “Christ, feels so fuckin’ good.”

Seemingly against his will, Joel’s hips bucked upward off the bed and you gagged around him, tears springing into your eyes. He moaned lowly, cursing under his breath at the feeling of your throat contracting around him. Unable to help yourself, you removed your hand from him and lowered it down your body, slipping your fingers underneath the band of your underwear and dipping into the wet heat between your own legs. Breathing harshly through your nose, you moaned around him as your finger brushed your aching clit. You pulled back and worked your tongue over his weeping slit, enjoying the way his grip on your hair tightened as you paid close attention to the most sensitive part of him.

“You’re drivin’ me insane,” he ground out, and you glanced up to see him watching you reverently, eyes wide and glossy, cheeks flushed. “So fuckin’ hot. God, you have the prettiest mouth, how did I never notice that? Never fuckin’ thought about how good my cock would look between your lips until it was happening. I’m a fuckin’ idiot.”

Your cunt pulsed against your fingers and you whimpered, taking him back in your mouth as far as you could. God, the way he spoke made you fucking ache for him. after so many years of knowing him, hearing his voice every day, you’d never have imagined him saying things like that to you. But the weight of him in your mouth was delicious, and his words only spurred you to push forward, forward, forward, revelling in the way he groaned as your nose brushed the dark curls at his base. Tears leaked out of your eyes, rolling down your cheeks from the effort, but you didn’t stop. You slid a finger inside yourself and gagged around him again, eyes rolling back in your head at the intoxicating sensation of having something inside both your mouth and your pussy.

“Takin’ me so well,” his thumb brushed across your cheek, wiping away the tears. “God, I’m in your fuckin’ throat, baby.” The pet name made your stomach tighten, and you moaned as more slick formed around your fingers.  

“Shit,” he choked out suddenly, losing all composure. “Are you fucki-“

You moaned, eyebrows furrowing as you fucked your hand and bobbed your mouth up and down quicker over his length.

“Stop,” he ordered, saying your name firmly. “I- Stop, I’m gonna come.” You ignored him, making a high-pitched sound around him as you felt the hot coil in your stomach begin to tighten. His hand gripped your hair tighter, and he pulled you off him.

You blinked lazily up at him, eyebrows furrowed dejectedly, lips parted. A string of saliva hung in the air between your bottom lip and his tip. You dragged your fingers out of your underwear, chest heaving with heavy breaths.

“Jesus, don’t fuckin’ look at me like that,” he groaned and broke eye contact, gripping your shoulder to pull you up off the floor. “Get up.”

Pushing gently on your shoulders, he nudged you forward onto the bed, and you crawled up before collapsing with your heads against the pillows. His bed was softer than you’d anticipated, and everything smelt like him. The pillows, the duvet. God, even if this was a one-time thing, you’d never forget that smell. He followed you, settling with his legs in between yours, and placed his palms on your stomach, pushing the thin material of your shirt up and over your breasts until it was bunched around your collarbones. Your heart pounded heavily in your chest, and you were aching for him, begging him with your eyes to just please, do something, anything.

And Joel was on you before you could speak, his fingers tracing and over your nipples, squeezing the weight of your breast in his palm before latching his lips onto you. He sucked your painfully tight nipple into his mouth, tongue lazily swiping across it, driving you insane. You sighed heavily, running a hand over the skin of his back and holding him to you. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin ever so lightly and your back arched off the bed. Moving over, he shifted his ministrations to your other breast, his eyes closed as he wet your skin with his slick mouth. And then one of his hands was drifting down your stomach, tickling over your skin, under it met your underwear, and he was cupping you through the fabric. Your hips stuttered upward, and he groaned into your chest, trailing his fingers over the soaked material.

“So fuckin’ wet already,” he muttered into your skin, and you nodded franticly against the pillows. “Did you get this turned on just from havin’ my cock in your mouth? Had to touch yourself?” Surprise zapped through you once more, ecstatic to learn just how much he loved to talk during sex. It was one of your favourite things, and it had always killed you to have sex with someone who was just silent the whole time.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Wanted you to finish in my mouth.”

He bit down onto your chest in response and you cried out quietly, eyes rolling back as he sucked a mark onto your skin with his fingers continued tracing feather light over your covered core.

“Maybe later,” his voice was strained. “Need to see you come first.”

He pulled the fabric of your underwear to the side, and then he was touching you with no barrier, and you trembled beneath him. You’d forgotten how good it felt to have someone else’s hands on you.

Joel groaned as he dipped his middle finger between your warm folds, gliding it up and down along your core, getting it covered in your slick. He swirled the tip of his finger around your entrance and you whimpered, hips grinding desperately against his hand. But he didn’t go inside you. His finger moved back up, all the way up, and swiped gently over your clit and you let out a pathetic moan. Such a small, miniscule touch had your stomach tensing painfully, ridiculously close to orgasm after so much time.

Bringing his face up to rest beside yours, he sucked your earlobe into his mouth gently, before murmuring in your ear, “I want to taste you.”

You didn’t say anything, too stunned by the feeling of his fingers against you, until he probed you for a response, purring your name into your ear.

“Need to hear you say it,” he encouraged. “Tell me what you want.”

“Please,” you begged, eyes shut tightly as he rubbed soft circles around your bundle of nerves. “I want you to taste me.” A grunt of frustration left your mouth as his hand disappeared and you opened your eyes to glare at him, but your mouth fell open, awestruck, when you saw him raise his soaked digits to his lips.

“Like this?” he goaded, sucking your slick off himself and groaning.

“Please,” you repeated, mouth dry as you watched him hum around his middle finger. “Need your mouth on me, your tongue, I-“

“Okay,” he soothed, moving down the bed in an instant. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

He spread your legs apart, fingers splayed as he held your thighs against the bed, displaying your weeping centre for him to see. A deep sound echoed though the room, and it took you a moment to realise it had been Joel. His dark eyes stared at the spot between your legs, and he dragged his fingers through the coarse hair that covered you.

His movements were torturously slow as he leaned down, pressing sloppy kisses on your hips, along the inside of your thighs, until finally his hot breaths were fanning across your core. You clenched around nothing, whimpering at how empty you felt but knowing it would have to wait.

It was like stepping into a warm bath. The second his tongue was on you, fire raced through your veins, warming your body from head to toe. A sound of relief slipped from your lips, and your eyes rolled back as he licked a broad stripe up the entire length of you. A raspy groan vibrated against you as he pressed a messy kiss against your pussy. You looked down and gasped at the sight of his eyes already on you, watching you and your reactions to him.

“Taste so fuckin’ good,” he drawled against you and you twitched at the sensation of his lips brushing against your clit. His thumbs pressed against your folds, holding you open for him to see everything, and he lathed his warm tongue against your clit, circling it until you were moaning and tensing your thighs against his hold, muscles screaming at you to press against his head and hold him to you.

You whispered his name over and over as if it were a prayer. As if you’d forgotten all other words in the English language and his name was your only salvation. His tongue dipped inside your entrance, prodding firmly until you whimpered and begged him to please, please, let you come.

He ate you out like a man possessed. Like you were his last meal and he intended to savour every god damn second of the experience. He was ravenous, lips and tongue working together to make every muscle in your body tighten until you were gasping. At some point your hand had drifted behind his head and you found yourself tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling it tightly as his mouth moved against you.

“Joel,” you groaned. He hummed against you, movements never ceasing. “Oh fuck, Joel, I’m gonna come.”

His eager moan into your cunt was all it took for you to be catapulted over the precipice and drop into your orgasm. Your body was on fire, vibrating against him as you trembled through it, moans and cries leaving your mouth as your way of thanking him. His hands held your thighs in a vice grip, and there would no doubt be marks there tomorrow to remind you were his fingertips had dug into your skin. As your body relaxed into the mattress again, he pressed a final kiss to your clit before pulling back and dragging his face across your thigh, wiping the remnants of your slick off his facial hair.

“Fuck,” he rasped, grinning up at you with glistening lips.

“So good,” you agreed, nodding as you tried to catch your breath.  

“Almost came all over the sheets,” he admitted and you laughed, beckoning him towards you. He stumbled a bit, one of his knees buckling below him on the bed, leading him to land awkwardly on top of you.  

“Shit,” he groused. “Sorry, bad fuckin’ knee. You’ve got me all bent out of shape.”

You chuckled lowly, pulling him up to lay beside you on the bed. “Let’s not put anymore pressure of them then, okay?” He watched you carefully, curiously, as you turned on your side and then moved backwards, pressing yourself flush against his chest.

His cock pulsed against your ass, and he wrapped an arm around your waist, hand splayed on your stomach to hold you against him as he rutted forward. The feeling of his wet tip dragging along your skin reignited the fire in you and you whimpered, lifting your leg only to push it back and drape it over his waist as much as you could.

“You want it like this?” he asked urgently, hot breaths fanning across your sweaty neck. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging on it gently.

You nodded, and waited as he pushed his body a little lower on the bed. His hand disappeared from your chest, and you allowed yourself to pout a little, only because you knew he couldn’t see your face. And then his left arm slithered underneath your shoulder and wrapped loosely your neck, gripping your opposite arm to pin you against him. His free hand gripped his cock and pushed it forward until he was sliding his head between your folds.

Both of you sighed at the sensation and you gripped his arm in anticipation. You could feel his torso moving against your back as he breathed, the soft hair on his chest tickling your skin.

“You ready?” he asked and you grunted, pushing back against him again.

“Joel,” you said in a dangerously low tone. “If you’ve ever cared about me, you will stop teasing and fuck me right now.”  

He laughed darkly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Yes, ma’am.”

He notched his tip at your entrance and you gasped as he pressed forward, pressing himself inside of you. It took what felt like minutes for him to bottom out, and when you felt his hips pressing against your ass, you tried to relax. The burn was intense, and you cursed yourself for not anticipating a little bit of pain after such a long dry spell. Joel held still, fingers stroking carefully over the skin of your shoulder, understanding that you needed a second.

“Fuck,” you choked out. “Joel, you’re huge.”  

He let out a gravelly sound into the back of your neck, body shuddering against yours. “You’re takin’ it so well though,” he gritted out. “So tight around me, grippin’ me so good.”   

He pulled back a touch before pressing back into you, and you moaned deeply. That was all the confirmation he needed to continue, pulling almost fully out of you before moving into you harder, stronger, and beginning a steady pace. Your body jolted forward with every one of his movements, but his arm around your neck held you firmly, never allowing you to go too far.

Curses drifted from your mouth, and you hid your face in his arm, biting down on the muscle of his bicep to stifle your sounds. You clenched around him suddenly and his hips stuttered forward, slamming into you in a way that made your stomach tense deliciously. He was so fucking deep, the angle allowing him to glide against your g-spot with every thrust.

“Fuckin’,” he moaned. “You’re so good, bein’ so fuckin’ good for me, aren’t you darlin’?”

You writhed in his arms, accepting the brutal pace he’d set. His skin connected with yours over and over, a satisfying smack, smack, smack sound filling the air.

“J-Joel,” you sobbed. “Oh my fucking god, I-“ He cut you off, gripping your chin and swiftly tugging your face upward so he could see you, and then his mouth was crashing down on yours. He groaned into your mouth, tongue pressing against your lips to part them and then tangling against yours. His lips were soft and wet and you didn’t even care about the odd angle your neck was twisted at as you moaned into it. His thrusts didn’t let up for a second, even as you murmured desperate sounds against each other’s lips.  

“C’mon,” he grunted into your mouth. “Give me another one.” His hand dropped to grip your neck, the sensation only heightening the feeling of him inside you. Liquid heat was spreading in your abdomen, curling through your veins, turning your entire body into jelly. His free hand drifted down your stomach and then his middle finger was dragging across your clit, and a harsh cry spilled from your mouth.

“Shit,” you gasped, face contorting as you felt yourself near your end. He was fucking everywhere, holding you against him by your neck, pounding into you while his fingers circled your clit roughly, and the coil in your stomach just snapped. You yelled his name, body tensing up as he pushed into you, wet squelching sounds filling the air as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“Say my name,” his voice urged in your ear, and you happily obliged, chanting his name like a mantra as he worked your body through it. Within a minute he was groaning frantically, and then he pulled out, and you could feel his come coating your back as he finished. You glanced over your shoulder to see him. His mouth was ajar, soft curses falling from his lips as he gripped his cock, angling it towards you as he painted your skin with his spend.

“Sorry,” he rushed out breathlessly, wide eyes meeting yours. His shoulders shook with the intensity of his orgasm, adrenaline pumping through his veins, and you smiled at the sight. But he looked concerned, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you warily.

“For what?” you frowned softly, rolling forward onto your stomach to free his arm that was trapped underneath you. “What’s wrong?”

“Came on you,” he clarified. “Should’ve asked first.”

A grin split across your face and his eyes lit up when he saw it, face relaxing again. “Ever the gentleman,” you chuckled. “It’s fine Joel, it was hot.”

His body relaxed and he dropped down to rest on his back, looking at you with a soft, curious expression. “It was,” he agreed quietly.

For a moment the pair of you just laid there, gazing at each other in a moment of wonder, before you suddenly became aware of how much colder the room was now that it was over. You shivered slightly, lifting to sit on your knees. Joel’s eyes trailed over your exposed body, gazing at your breasts, and your stomach, before resting on your face again.

“I’m gonna shower, and then hit the road,” you told him, cringing at the prominent ache between your thighs as you stepped off the bed. You picked your clothes up off the chair in the corner and turned back to look at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow night right, dinner at Maria and Tommy’s?”

He was watching you in a daze, eyelids heavy with drowsiness, but he nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he drawled. “Dinner at Maria and Tommy’s.” His eyes suddenly widened and he rolled over, reaching underneath his pillow before revealing a piece of small dark fabric. Your underwear. He held them out in your direction.

“Keep them big guy,” you winked, and he laughed deeply, dropping them back onto the bed.

You padded towards the door, ready to pop into the bathroom and then head home, before a thought struck you. Resting your shoulder against the doorway you looked at him again, smiling at the sight of him lying naked and fucked out on the bed, eyes closed as he breathed deeply. He looked about as relieved as you felt.

“Hey Joel,” you said quietly, and his eyes flashed open, raising an eyebrow at you. “Between us, right? Probably best if we don’t tell anyone else this happened.”

He nodded once, smiling lazily. “Between us.”

part two

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #fwb joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #my writing #cat's outta the bag #don't cry over spilt milk #whole new can of worms

[imgoingtofreakoutnow]

Sketch me down, see me through – pt. 1

Summary: After a quiet day, you decide to sketch Astarion

Pairing: Astarion x Tav

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: it's really just a fluffy thing, lots of pining, they're both touch-starved

A/N: I wrote this a while back and it's not too bad, so enjoy! Here you can find Part 2 (@tripleyeeet you know this already but enjoy still! also, @yn-ymn-yln you might like this)

\_/

The day was slowly fading into the night as the fire of the camp stretched towards the burning sky.

It had been a weirdly uneventful day: you had wandered around without a real aim or purpose all day, mostly enjoying the view than actively looking for more loot. You still managed to stumble across a couple of lonely barrels and chests, gaining nothing really useful other than a well-crafted dagger with neat gold details in the handle.

Your companions were nowhere to be seen, probably drinking in the village nearby or resting in their tents or simply enjoying the company of somebody else.

As you sat alone next to the fire, sketching a bird roaming a few feet away and looking for food in the grass, you didn’t really mind a chance to enjoy your own company.

“There you are!”

The bird flew away in a ruffle of feathers when Astarion’s voice rumbled in the small clearing your camp was set in.

“I thought you had joined the others at the tavern,” he said, plopping down behind you with a tired sigh.

“I wasn’t really in the mood for drinking…” you mumbled with a shrug, your hand jotting down the last details of the bird before they left your brain, “or being among other people.”

“I better hope you don’t mind my company.”

His head popped over your shoulder, but you didn’t raise your gaze from the drawing, too focused shading the charcoal with your finger than giving in to his egotistical nature.

“You know I don’t,” you assured, blowing away the excess black dust from the parchment, “but you did make my model fly away.”

Astarion scanned silently the small sketchbook still open in your hands from behind your shoulder. You could feel his breath brushing your ear, creating a web of shivers that ran one after the other along your spine.

“Look at that.” His fingers reached for your drawing. You held your breath as they hovered over the dark and slightly smudged lines. “I had no idea we had such a talented artist within our group.”

“I’m not that good,” you scoffed with a smile, turning your head ever so slightly towards his, “but thank you.”

“However,” he continued, scratching thoughtfully his chin, “you could definitely use a better model.”

You nodded slowly, pressing your lips together before clicking your tongue. “You’re right, I should ask Gale to pose for me.”

“Gale?!”

“Or Shadowheart,” you added, ignoring his insulted tone. “Her features are so soft, perfect for a portrait.” You met his eyes with a grin. “Don’t you agree?”

Astarion huffed through his nose, pulling back and leaning on his arms. “I suppose she could be a decent model, but I don’t see her around to be sketched.”

You snorted, turning around on your seat to face his narrow scarlet eyes.

“Oh, is my annoyance amusing to you?”

“If you wanted me to sketch you so badly,” you started, turning to a blank page of your sketchbook, “you could’ve simply asked.”

Astarion stared at you for a second, his lips slightly parted and his eyes wide in surprise. Those were the small expressions that you loved more about him: those seconds in between, where his facade broke for a moment, revealing something so brief that simply couldn’t be faked.

Then he cleared his throat and his mask of smugness covered his face once again, annihilating whatever real emotion that had made its appearance on his features. “If you insist, darling.”

He laid down on the grass, propping himself up with his elbow. His head rested on his closed fist, tilted as his half-lidded gaze was stuck on you. “So, how do you want me?”

You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat. No matter how many times he looked at you like that or his words tickled your brain with lewd thoughts, Astarion always managed to stir something in your guts; a pull you couldn’t always ignore, especially when you were completely alone.

“You can just sit up,” you assured him, breaking away from his eyes to sharpen your pencil. “I’m not that good of an artist to draw you like that,” you explained a moment later, pointing at the relaxed —and obviously thought-out— position he was in.

“As you wish.”

Surprisingly, Astarion immediately followed your request, sitting back up with not even one objecting word.

“Nevertheless,” he murmured, leaning towards you, “if anatomy is the department you lack, I’ll be more than happy to aid you with your… sketches.” A devilish grin appeared on his face as his hand moved in the air with his words. “In every position you might ever need.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Your calm voice and mischievous grin, almost mirroring Astarion’s, were in no way a faithful reflection of the turmoil storming your chest and mind.

“Now stay still,” you told him, your focus slowly shifting to the drawing as you started laying down the first few guiding lines.

“I’ll be as immovable as a rock, darling.”

“And silent,” you mumbled, your eyes darting from the page to Astarion’s slightly vexed expression.

Astarion noticed your frowning, however he had no time to articulate the question on the tip of his tongue that you had leaned in. Your hand reached out hesitantly, almost waiting for him to pull away or shoving you back in an instinctive reaction. But he didn’t.

You gently grabbed his chin, guiding his face slightly to the side. Then your thumb moved to the spot between his eyebrows, smoothing away the crease of irritation altering his features. You could feel the tension in his muscles give away under your touch, any resistance crumbling under your fingertips.

“There,” you whispered, admiring the calm expression on Astarion’s face. “Can you stay like that for a while?”

“Of course, darling.”

Your heart skipped a beat when he spoke. There was a sudden softness to him, one that you had never seen for longer than the blink of an eye. It was almost overwhelming, even after you had lowered your gaze to work on the small portrait.

Your pencil, guided by your hand, moved quickly on the page. You didn’t really need to look at Astarion to sketch him. His cheekbones, the curve of his lips, the shape of his eyes, his features had long been carved in your mind.

If he had taken the sketchbook —as you feared he was going to— when he appeared next to you, he would’ve found pages and pages covered in quick and small drawings of him. Studies of his face, hair, hands; whatever your mind could recall accurately.

Nonetheless, there was always something that you never managed to get exactly right.

You moved your gaze from the page, studying closely his eyes and the ever-changing glint behind them as you tried to recreate it with charcoal and parchment. An impossible task that made you sigh more loudly than you expected.

“I can almost smell your brain fuming, darling.”

You put down the pencil, straightening your spine and stretching your sore neck. You scrunched your eyes, exhausted of drawing in the dim and shifting light of the flames.

“Is it done?”

When you opened your eyes, Astarion was subtly peering over the page, the smug grin on his face unable to hide his nervous anticipation.

“I think so,” you mumbled, shading one last detail before staring critically at your creation. As you looked at it, you noticed so many details out of place: a line too straight, a curl too twirly, a shadow too dark…

“It could be better,” you said apologetically as you handed the sketchbook to your model, “but I hope you like it.”

Hesitantly, almost as if the book was made of fire, Astarion took it.

He stared at your drawing for a long time, his fingers following the charcoal lines and then looking for those same shapes on his face. A small shaky breath left his lips as his fingertips moved on his neck, brushing the scars of the bite.

“I had never seen them on me before,” he whispered, scoffing slightly as his hand fell back on the drawing.

“I actually drew them a bit too high,” you explained, pointing at the sketch with your smudged fingertips. “And the nose is too straight, and it’s all a bit of a mess-”

Your voice was cut off when Astarion took your hand in his. Before you could utter another syllable, he brought it to his lips, leaving a lingering kiss on your knuckles.

“Nonsense, darling. You’ve given me a mirror in which I will always be able to see myself.”

He kissed the inner part of your wrist, his eyes locked in yours as his teeth grazed your veins. “How will I ever be able to repay you for this?”

“You don’t have to.” Ignoring your burning skin, you squeezed gently Astarion’s hand in yours as his eyebrows shot up. “I did this for you and you only. I’m not expecting anything in return.”

Astarion still looked at you with a puzzled expression while you took your sketchbook out of his grip, took the short dagger hidden in your boot and carefully cut the page with his portrait out of it.

“This is yours,” you said handing him the rough sheet of parchment, “and it should’ve never been taken from you in the first place.”

As if he was handling the smallest and frailest animal, Astarion accepted the page in his hand, his wide eyes still marveling at the way your lines came together to recreate him.

“I…”

For once, words failed him.

He looked up from the sketch and a million emotions crossed his face. Confusion and relief. Sadness and recognition. Fear and joy. And that softness, that overwhelming look empty of all the sharp edges that defined him every other moment.

“Thank you,” he whispered, placing a shaky hand on your cheek. “I won’t forget it.”

That touch was alien to you.

It wasn’t the kind of touch that you had learned to expect from Astarion. It wasn’t sexual or teasing, anticipating a pleasure that he seemed always so eager to satisfy. It was gentle, hinting at an intimacy you had never dared to entertain, not even when you were falling asleep in your tent and your neck was still sore where his teeth had dug their way into your flesh.

His thumb moved slowly, hesitantly on your skin. You were both entering uncharted territories and you could do nothing more than being careful. Nonetheless, you couldn’t help but lean into his touch as you always did, kissing softly his palm to let him know that you wanted it.

That you craved this intimacy, no matter how long you both needed to get there.

Some voices reached your ears —drunken and loud singing— and before you could make out who they belonged to, Astarion had already moved away, leaving your cheek to the cold touch of the night.

He quickly folded the drawing and put it away, giving you one last small smile before a smug grin bloomed on his face and removed every other emotion. He stood up and headed towards Gale and Wyll, the swaying owners of those voices that had just entered the camp.

As the crowd was becoming a little too much for your liking, you headed into your tent, falling with a sigh on your pillow. You could still hear the other three outside, but your mind was wandering far away, relishing in the memories of that night as you slowly fell asleep.

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion bg3 #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #dnd #astarion ancunin #astarion fic

[ursuburbanmother]

I’m On Fire, But I’m Trying Not to Show It || Chapter Three

Pairing: Angus Tully x fem!reader

a/n: Mothers and daughters?? Fathers and sons?!?

Word Count: ~4k

Find: Part 1 Part 2

Enjoy!

December 23, 1970

You’ve been stuck in your own mind all day. It's decided to shut down like a panic room and you can see Angus try to crack it open with his attempts at small talk. Mary and Mr. Hunham share uncomfortable glances at each other, slightly humored about the quiet lunch they are having that would usually be filled by chatter from you two.

Angus leans in close to your ear, “You said we would talk today.”

“After this,” you murmur, sinking into the wooden chair.

“If this is about yesterday, it was just a weird moment, it didn’t mean anything.”

“Stop talking,” you say as nicely as you can when you see Mary's eyebrow quirk up at Angus’s comment.

“I have a surprise,” Mr. Hunham suddenly announces. Your eyes snap to him, embracing the distraction. He brings out a platter full of Christmas cookies and places them on the table. “These were a gift to me, and I would like to share them with both of you.”

Angus is unimpressed and by the way he is scowling, he's upset too. “Look at them. Look at all the festive shapes. Snowflakes and gingerbread men. A tree. A little mitten,” Mr. Hunham picks up the red and white frosted cookie and takes a bite. “Mmm,” he looks pleasantly surprised.

“Thank you, Mister. This is really nice,” You reach for the snowflake. You’re not sure how well sloppy joe and sugar will settle in your stomach but you're willing to gamble on it. Mr. Hunham gives you a thin smile.

“May I go to the bathroom, sir?” Angus asks, already pushing away his dish and getting up from his chair.

“You may,” he sighs, watching the boy walk away.

“Well, I’m trying,” he says to the group, defeated.

You give him a weak grin, “These are good cookies though. If that means anything to you.”

Mary chuckles at your exchange. Mr. Hunham gets up and goes the same direction Angus had exited. Your eyes follow him until it is impossible for you to see him without breaking your neck. You turn to Mary who is close to finishing her cigarette. She blows the smoke away from your direction and pushes the packet towards you.

“Want one?”

“Oh. No thanks. That's Angus’s thing.”

“Alright. But don’t go asking for one later.”

“I won’t,” you laugh quietly. You hear voices in the hallway get louder. Angus shouts something you can’t make out and Mr. Hunham's response follows shortly after. Their noise fades away and you rub your tired eyes to snap you awake. You never could get enough sleep. You swear you could sleep for twenty-four hours and still feel groggy.

“What's going on with you two?” Mary asks.

“Angus and I?”

“No. You and the ghost that haunts the infirmary,” she took a sip of her coffee while shaking her head in amusement.

“My mother says I'm a bit of a blabbermouth. I don’t know if you want to hear the details,” you warn.

“Give me the reader's digest,” she pats the seat next to her. Bringing your coca-cola with you, you go cross over to her side of the table. “Okay. Tell me if you think I’m crazy-”

“I will.”

“-But Angus has been acting so weird. One second, he's all moody, a regular Holden Claufield, and the next he’s nice and being the Angus I’ve known all my life. I don’t know… Maybe he’s at the stage where his feelings swing around like a pendulum.”

“That's all-teenagers sweethearts. Even at adulthood, that pendulum never stops swinging. At some point it may slow down only for a gust of wind to return it into motion.”

“I mean he’s always been a little short-tempered, just never towards me. Yesterday,” you wonder if you are getting too personal now, “he called me selfish.”

“Selfish? The girl that just scarfed down a cookie to make an old man feel better.”

You shrug. You never knew how to take compliments. “I know I should just ask him what's really going on, but I don’t want him to blow up on me again.”

“If he does come to me. I’ll whip him into shape for you.”

“Thank you,” you giggle. “What do you think happened out there?” You tilt you heard towards the doors.

“Their usual bickering. That boy is probably paying the price for cursing Hunham out right now.”

“How long have you known Mr. Hunham?”

She paused before answering, “A while now.”

“Has he always been this… strong-willed?”

“Stubborn as a mule you mean? Yes, he has. Although the years have certainly hardened him more.”

“Why’s that?"

“Not sure. He’s a private man. I haven’t been able to pry anything out of him.”

“Not even when he’s,” you make your hand into a fist, extending the pink and thumb. You move it back and forth to mimic drinking from a bottle.

Mary cackles. “Not even then.”

…

The stupidest thing Angus had done was what he had done to you yesterday. He doesn’t know why he said it, why he had called you selfish. It just tumbled out. It was like he was a man possessed. But launching off a springboard in the gym in an act of rebellion was a close second.

He numbed the pain thinking of you. Granted if you were here, you would be lecturing him non-stop and telling him how he should have known better. But at least you would have been here, and he wouldn’t have to watch Mr. Hunham marinate in his misery. At least you would have been there to hold his hand as they popped his arm back into its socket.

Although his mouth had gotten him in trouble the last few days, it had been helpful in getting them out of the hospital insurance issue. And it was about to get him a free burger now too.

They had arrived at the local watering hole. It was jam packed with people getting tipsy with beer. He could hear the clink of billiards and the white noise on the TV.

“I think I’ll start with a beer. How about you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Mr. Tully. Get your cheeseburger.”

“They’ve got Miller High Life. The Champagne of Beers.”

“Oh?” Mr. Hunham said, but Angus could tell he was just trying to amuse him.

Angus shut the menu as their waitress came up the stairs to their little booth. “Okay, you ready to order? Oh!” she gasped as she turned to his teacher.

“Miss Crane,” Hunham touched his chest, “As I live and breathe. What-, what are you doing here?”

“Oh hi guys! Yeah, I always pick up a little extra work over Thanksgiving and Christmas,” Miss Crane explained.

It looked as if Mr. Hunham had been snapped awake, “Well, um, this is Mr. Tully,” he motioned his hand towards him.”

“Sure, I know you and your little girlfriend. You two are always glued together like gum on a pole,” Miss Crane said teasingly.

“Y/n L/n," he beamed, "she goes to the girl's school and we’re just friends. But um, we met outside Dr. Woodrup’s office. I was wrongly accused of blowing up a toilet,” he smiled as innocently as he could.

“I didn’t know about the wrongly part,” she shares a laugh with Hunham.

“He’ll have a cheeseburger,” he orders for Angus.

“And a Miller High Life please,” Angus adds quickly.

“Uh. No you will not,” Hunham says sternly.

“Where do you stand on Miller High Life, Miss Crane?”

“Well, like they say, it’s the Champagne of Beers.”

Angus turns to Hunham, “And she’s a professional.”

“Okay, one cheeseburger,” Miss Crane waits for him to fill the blank.

He relents and orders reluctantly, “And a Coke.”

“I’ll have a cheeseburger as well,” Hunham smiled.

“Two cheeseburgers,” she jots down the order on her notepad

“And a Jim Beam. On the rocks. Please.”

“Okay, you got it guys,” She smiles at them before exiting. Paul watches her go and Angus grins at the scene.

“Ouch. You two have chemistry,” he shakes his hand like he had touched a hot plate.

“Okay. That’s the Percodan talking,” Hunham dismisses.

“I don’t know. Seeing her like this, I think she’s pretty attractive,” he hopes his teacher will take the bait.

“Listen, you hormonal vulgarian, that woman deserves your respect, not your erotic speculation.”

Angus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Well, may I at least go to the bathroom? Sir?”

“You mean the payphone?”

They have a stare off before he runs off to the back of the restaurant. Angus scours any leftover change in his back pocket of his jeans. He finds enough to make a call. He scans the room, making sure that Mr. Hunham isn’t hunting him down like last time. He dials the number to the Barton infirmary and hopes you are lounging in your room.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” he chants under his breath. Instead he gets the dial tone. He curses and slams the phone back to its original place.

…

You haven’t seen Angus since the morning. You've been spending all afternoon with Mary instead. You helped with the lunch dishes and are preparing the potatoes for supper later. Mary had a radio in the kitchen which you happily hummed to. Christmas music flooded your ears and reminded you of the holiday. In the halls of Barton there were no decorations, and one could probably convince a kid that the Grinch had stolen them in the dead of night.

“Mary, I'm done,” you proudly show her the bowl of potatoes. In your house most of the cooking was done by private chefs who came in and out so irregularly that you could never learn their names. Understandably, they didn’t have time to entertain a ten-year-olds insistent questions about what it meant to julienne a vegetable.

“Great. Why don’t you start boiling them and get started on chopping those mushrooms.”

“Okay,” you add water to a pot before adding the chomped potato. You find the mushrooms and cut them as thinly as you can. After you place them on the counter next to Mary who has already prepared everything else.

You admire as she adds them to a pan of melted butter. She drops salt, pepper, Italian dressing and other spices you can’t name, without even having to use measuring tools. “You’re Julia Child!” You praise.

“Just years of practice.”

“Hey, when do I get to sauté and mix things?” You get on your tiptoes to get a better look at the mushrooms turning a dark brown.

“When I know you won’t hurt yourself doing it,” she gave a pointed look at the bandaids on your fingers. You may have cut yourself in your first attempts at handling a knife. You hide the hand behind your back. “Sorry.”

You go to sit in a stool by the oven. You open a borrowed copy of a Kerouac book that Angus had in his suitcase. The Subterraneans, written in three days apparently and no offense to Jack but it shows. Mary notices your squinting as you go try to make sense of the writing, inching your face closer and closer to the paper.

“Are you planning to do something with that? The books.” Mary stops her stirring and lowers the heat of the stove. She walks over to you and glances at pages.

“What? Like with writing?” You ask, “I’m not sure. I know I should have figured it out by now but I just never got one of those woosh moments,” you sway your hands in the air.

“Woosh moment?”

“It's like what we talked about with the pendulum. I feel like I've been hanging still and waiting for the wind to send me on my way. I wait for it to push me with the strength of a tornado. Woosh. Almost to flood me with a feeling of knowing? I’m not the best at words…” you trail off.

“You're telling me nothing interests you?” She raised her eyebrow.

“No, a lot of things do. I want to do everything. Right now, for example, I feel like becoming a renowned chef,” you pick up a random bowl and start stirring it slowly.

“Try learning how to handle a knife right first,” she tuts.

“Practice makes perfect Mary,” you smile and look down into the chocolate substance you were messing with. “Cake or brownies?”

“Neither actually. It's more doughy than liquid honey,” she lectures you kindly.

“Right,” you say sheepishly, “I swear I’m smarter when it comes to other things. You should see me in civics class.”

“I believe you,” she winks, “Now get to preheating the oven, Betty Crocker.”

…

Angus goes off to play a game on the Pinball machine and to take his mind off you. It certainly helps him. Avoiding the prospect of getting beat up by locals and injuring another part of his body allows him to momentarily forget the stress he feels when he remembers how pissed you are at him.

Mr. Hunham and Angus eat their burgers quickly. To repay Mr. Hunham for saving his ass, Angus keeps his mouth shut every time he orders a Jim Beam. They leave after Hunham drops a rather generous tip for Miss Crane.

They're walking towards Hunhams car and Angus can’t resist the urge to ask, “Why’d you buy those guys beer? They’re assholes.”

“That’s one way to look at it. Hey. Catch,” he tosses his keys at Angus, who catches them on instinct.

“How many boys do you know who have had their hands blown off? Barton boys don’t go to Vietnam. No, they go to Yale or Dartmouth or Cornell, whether they deserve to or not."

“Except for Curtis Lamb.”

“Except for Curtis Lamb.”

“Were you ever in the military?” Angus’s curiosity peaked.

“I tried to enlist in ‘41, but was rejected,” Mr. Hunham pointed at his eye, as if to say obviously. He tries to unlock the door of the driver's side to no avail. He points towards Angus,“I have to get in through there. Anyways, they made me an air raid warden. Gave me a whistle and everything. Helmet. Arm band.”

Angus opens the door, handing the keys off as Mr. Hunham slides in. He catches a whiff of Mr. Hunham unmentioned scent.

“Before we get going, can I be candid with you?”

“Mm-hmm,”

“You smell,” he states bluntly and Mr. Hunham deflates. Angus joins him inside the Nova, “Like fish. And it’s really noticeable toward the end of the day. I even smell it on your coat. Mind if I crack the window?”

“Trimethylaminuria.”

“Huh?” Angus frowns.

“Trimethylaminuria. Means my body can’t break down trimethylamine. That’s the smell. And, uh, yes, more toward the end of the day.

“Wow. Your whole life? No wonder you’re afraid of women,” he concludes.

“I am not afraid of women,” Hunham says, clearly offended. “Jesus H. Christ.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything. Dr. Gertler says I don’t always give consideration to my audience,” Angus exhales.

“Who’s Dr. Gertler?’’

“My shrink,” Angus wants to disappear.

“Has Dr. Gertler ever tried a swift kick in the ass?”

Angus figures he ought to level the playing field. “Okay, all right, now your turn. Go ahead, tell me something about me. Something negative.”

“Something negative about you?”

“Sure. Just one thing.

“Just one?”

Angus nods and he probably should be offended that he is taking an awful long time to say anything.

“You’re obtuse about your social relationship.”

“What the hell is that supposed mean?”

“You didn’t say I had to elaborate Mr. Tully.”

“Okay well now I want you to. Spit it out.”

“No,” he backs out of his parking spot and hits the road.

“Come on! Explain,” Angus tugs on Hunhams jacket.

“I hope you don’t plan to pester me all the way to Barton. It'll be an awfully long ride.”

He presses down harder on the gas pedal.

…

You had burned the cookies. Not that you could tell when you took a bite of it. The cocoa had disguised it and you had just finished patting your back when you had to spit the whole thing out into the sink. Mary relishes your misery and apologizes through her laughs, wiping the tears in the corner of her eyes.

So your two-course meal had been reduced to just an entree. After thirty minutes of searching and waiting on Angus and Mr. Hunham, you ladies decided to leave the capacious mess hall and have a TV dinner. If your mother could see you now you were sure she would have you arrested by the etiquette police.

Mary was flipping through the channels to tune in to her daily rewatch of the Newlywed Game. You stopped her suddenly, your hand on top of hers to stop her from operating the remote.

“Cactus Flower! I love this movie. Please can we watch it?” You beg, clasping and shaking your hands together.

“What’s it about?” She asks hesitantly, clearly wary about abandoning her favorite program.

“You’ll love it! Ingrid Berman has to pretend to be her boss's wife because he lied to his lover about being married and having kids and shit-,”

“Language.”

“-Sorry. And so now he has to pull off this big con, so she won’t leave his lying as-, butt,” you correct yourself. “Goldie Hawn is sooo good in this. She won an Oscar I think.”

“I supposed I could give it a try. If it bores me we are switching right back though.”

“Deal,” you giggle and scoot the plate balancing on your lap closer so you can dig in.

For the next hour, Mary seems content in watching the characters in the movie ignore and miscommunicate their feelings. Even shaking her head when they do something she finds ridiculous. Your eyes get heavy as the ending nears, your stomach warm and content with the meal you had and the glare of the television tiring your vision. You lean your head back into the couch cushion and close your eyelids. Distantly you hear Ingrid Berman and Walter Matthau confess their love before your world goes dark.

Slumped against Mary, you wake up for the second time that week by the same hands. Angus is shaking your shoulder gently. Your gaze falls immediately to the sling his arm is in.

“Angus! What the hell?” You whisper- shout, fixing your posture and wiping the potential drool off your face. You check to make sure you didn’t wake up Mary.

“It's okay, it's okay,” he reassures. “It’s not broken, or anything just dislocated.”

“What happened?’’ Your arm trails down from where the sling starts to where his hand hangs lazily out. "Is this why you weren’t at dinner tonight? Hunham too?”

“Uh yeah. I jumped off a springboard in the new gym,” he answers bashfully.

“Wow… you are so stupid sometimes.”

“I prefer spontaneous thank you,” he sits down next to you on the couch and lets out a sigh. Using his good arm, he lifts a plastic bag. “We went out to eat and I got you something.”

“Ooh,” You snatch the bag and open it as quietly as you can without crinkling the plastic. Inside the Styrofoam box there's a half-eaten burger with some cold fries. You snack on it anyway offering some to Angus who shakes his head.

“Mr. Hunham thought buying another would be wasteful. He assumed you and Mary would have probably eaten by then so I saved what I could.”

“We did and,” you motion to the plates, “I helped cook it!”

“Really?” Angus's eyes widened, “I’m sorry I missed it.”

“I saved you some cookies,” You pick up the dish of the burnt dessert. You have brought them over believing you had been exaggerating the taste.

You hadn't.

He takes one, clueless, and bites almost half the cookie off. You see him wince but still he continues to chew. He chokes it down and nods, “Not bad?”

“You’re such a liar,” you shove his head lightly. “I forgot to turn on the timer.”

“Yeah I can tell,” he takes your confession as his cue to spit the rest out into a nearby napkin.

“Thanks for this though,” you take a bite of the burger, “I had forgotten what fast food tasted like.”

“Don’t tell him I let you have it. Or that you saw me in fact. The whole arm thing is supposed to be secret.”

“Got it,” you extended your pinky for him to intertwine. He takes it but doesn’t remove his pinky after, instead he lets your connected hands fall between the both of you.

The TV is still on, except the volume is lower and an old black-and-white movie is on. You finish the burger and put the trash aside to throw away in the morning.

“Where is Mr. Hunham now?”

“Crashed as soon as his head hit the pillow.”

“So you want to talk now?” You look up at him.

“Umm, somewhere private though. Incase Mary wakes up,” he gets up, still connected to you by your fingers and pulls you alongside him. You pick up a discarded blanket along with you

“Okay. Where do you want to go?”

He walks you two out of the staff common room and you let him take the lead. Barton is cold even without all the large windows closed. It’s like walking through a haunted mansion, passing by old dusty trophy cases and pictures of past alumni. When you enter what you recognize to be the auditorium, thanks to the plaque next to the door, Angus strolls you two over to the stage. You sit on the piano bench and when he joins you, you cover him with your blanket.

You hear Angus let out a shaky breath and then see the winter air turn it into a small cloud of smoke.

Angus starts to speak, a tremble in his voice, “You’re the only person who thinks of me first know? Even when we were little, and we had a free pass to be totally self-centered you still never-. Like in middle school when you’d give me biology answers, or just now with the blanket! I have a jacket! I should be giving you the entire blanket. In fact, let me give you -, your just-.”

“It’s alright Angus,” you stop his rapid rambling, holding his face between your hands. “I already forgave you a long time ago.”

“Didn’t feel like it,” he chuckles, trying to divert his gaze but the soft hold you have on him keeps him still.

“I forgave you the second you walked in looking like a kicked puppy.”

He laughs at your words.

“Although I just want to ask what has been going on with you? I know you hate school and you're not incredibly fond of Stanely marrying your mom, but I feel like something has been bothering you. Something big.”

“I need to go to Boston Y/n,” he admits, hitting some random piano keys. The notes echo around the room.

“Okay,” you bite the inside of your cheek, “why?”

“It's snowing outside but it doesn’t feel like Christmas. But my dad, he would make it feel that way. So I need to see him and my mom had promised but you see how that turned out.”

“Oh Angus. This is why you kept bringing it up,” you gasp. “Jesus. And I had called you stupid, I’m the dense one for not connecting the dots.”

“No no. You’re not. I was being evasive. I guess I didn’t want you to worry.”

“I would have stolen Jason Smith's car keys had I known! We could be there by now, eating Clam Chowder by the bay. ”

“Nuh-uh. You’re way too of a goody-two shoe for that.”

“Well I would have followed you. Given an hour's notice, of course, to build my confidence.”

“I don't know,” Angus hits a few more keys, “Maybe this was fate like you said. It definitely didn’t deal me a cruel hand having me holdover here with you.”

“Yeah, the universe was certainly on our side for this one,” you move closer to him and put your head on his shoulder. “Hey, you think you can still play even with only one working hand?”

“I’m willing to try it,” he stretches his fingers, “What shall I serenade you with?”

“Something Beach Boys. In My Room?”

“You got it L/n.”

He plays much slower and his jaw is sharp, fully determined to get through the song for your enjoyment. He plays so gracefully you don’t even notice when he slips on occasion. You don’t mind it. It’s almost as sweet as a lullaby.

#angus tully #angus tully x reader #the holdovers

[pryllee]

Sly kitty.

Scara x Fem! Reader

Flirting, SLIGHTLY suggestive, modern AU, college AU, idk

A/N: Finally decided to post this after it collected dust for like a month or three in my drafts/privated.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

Part 1 / Part 2

You sat there, across from Scara as you stabbed into your lunch with your mind wandering away. As the blood drains even harder from your face, his smirk that he tried to hide so badly failed thrice as hard.

"Why so gloomy?" His eyes flickered to your hand, following the movement of a fork hammering into your food up and down.

"What silly trick do you have up your sleeve up this time, hmm?" You glare, cutting a portion, shoving it down your throat one after another.

"Oh come on, if this is what a bad day looks like, you clearly won't be liking tomorrow, dear." He laughs, making a portion almost go down your lungs,

"Excuse me? Tomorrow what now?" You grasp onto your sore throat making him laugh harder, was that meant to be sarcasm? You flush a slight red gritting your teeth, rushing to grab a random book from your bag, slamming it HARD against his face almost making his nose bleed.

"Ow fuck! Calm down, it was just a joke!" He pinches his nose, his head leaning backwards to apparently 'help' with the escaping blood, at this rate, you're hoping he dies from the slow increasing lack of blood in his body. "Piss off." You slide the book back in your bag, walking away with the tray with a bunch of leftovers on it.

"Ah whats her problem? I thought girls liked flirting." He stared at your fading silhouette.

As soon as class ends, you slowly shake your head around trying to spot Scara. You find him with a small tissue rolled up inside his nostril, exiting the classroom.

"Ah... wait!" You run to grab his shoulder, "Hm?" He glanced at you as a random girls voice echoes throughout the hall over to you both.

"Scara-kun? Are you coming?" His attention is diverted over to someone. Who..? No way, did he already get a girlfriend right after calling me that stupid pet name? Ah seriously this little.... - You look over, seeing a girl whos far younger than anyone here. "What? Who is she...?"

"Are you talking about Keni? Just a kid I agreed to tutor after school. I don't know why but her mom trusts me a lot." A vivid image of a middle aged woman pops up in your mind, with a thumbs up gesture. Quote; 'You can do it! Its your chance!'

"Do you have anyone at your house today? If not... I could whip something up for you over there." You give a wry smile in hopes of acceptance, his eyes lit up slightly. "Sure, you don't really need to make me anything though, Keni would love some pancakes." He walked away, clearly trying to hide something as Keni followed behind, running energetically.

–

Fast forward over to his house, you grab an apron, and some basic needs to start cooking. - Hmm... I wonder what he likes. Should I just make him some chicken katsu? I guess I'll make that and pancakes for me and Keni.

You started to make the batter for the pancakes, overhearing some distinct chatter between the two at the table. You were so focused on something else, that you almost tipped over the entire bowl of the batter, though you still spilled quite a lot.

A sudden shock overtakes you, making your face flush a bright red and skin burn when a hand latches onto your waist, and another onto your wrist. "Be careful. You're no use if you'll end up spilling everything. It's already a hindrance that you have a huge mess piled up." His voice felt like it was blowing gently into your ear, his chest pressed against your back as his hand guided yours.

You hear a little snicker from behind as you shove his hand and slap away the leeching hand on your waist. "I can do it myself, or if you want I can burn this whole place down."

"Oh sure thing miss professional, step aside and let me follow your amazing tutorial." He takes your spot in cooking, as you end up being shoo'ed away with a gesture to 'go wash up'

Meanwhile, Keni is well... a little flabbergasted.

-

As you start to wash yourself up, your hand navigates itself over to your chest, feeling your heart beating faster than ever. Your skin burning a pinkish hue, as a new feeling pops up in your heart, your stomach feeling like there was a huge pit, it felt like something was missing, it felt like so odd. — I must be going insane. —

He was a good friend, but everytime you began to love him, a huge anxious pit developed inside your stomach, which made you feel unsure.

He has never had any interest in love. After all, he is a puppet with no heart, can you really trust him knowing that? A huge sense of guilt overlapped your whole body, running fingers through your hair. You weren't even sure if you deserve to be apart of his lives chapter at all.

After all, this has and had always happened to you. You shook it off, trying to finish your little 'wash up' time as quickly as possibly. "Hmm... I didn't bring any spare clothes. But there is a clean pair right here..."

You walk out, drying your hair with a towel as you saw them eating... Well. Only Keni was eating, however Scara was just drinking tea, I guess he still likes tea.

His clothes smelled good, and it felt warm. "Oh, those... are my clothes." He scanned your figure, looking dazed as he takes larger sips of his extremely dark tea.

"Should I change out of them?" You tease, making him flush a pinkish red. "Nnnooo...." raised your eyebrows at him.

"Oh well, your clothes are comfortable, where do you buy them?"

"Its a little difficult to describe, but if you want I can show you where tomorrow. Perhaps you could consider it a date." His frown turned upside down sheepishly,

"Ah... what?"

"Nothing, however I am assuming thats a yes." His eyes flickered over to Kenis papers, sitting down beside her. "Alright, so you should..."

His voice faded out into the background, giving you time to contemplate on what he had just said. You took your phone out, looking at the time to find its already super late.

"Ha...?" Confused, you restart your phone biting on your nails. "I should get going..."

Only whispering to yourself, but it managed to catch his attention. "You're leaving already? Its quite late isn't it?" As he continued to help the little girl beside him.

"Uh... Its not like I really have anything going on at home but...-" cut off, "Just stay here for the night. Its just one night after all." You stayed silent, watching his movement helping Keni, wait... Has she been listening in silenc–

Now fastforward to a few hours later, he guides you over to the guestroom, "You can stay in this room, but if its too dusty for you, you could take a look at the other one." He asked, glancing over to check the expression plastered onto your face.

"It's fine, its just for a night anyway, thanks for trying to keep me safe though I'm clearly responsible enough." You tease, settling into the room.

He stared shortly, before closing the door, walking away to his room with a blank expression. "Hm... "

-

Not any later into the midnight, you woke from your sleep due to a nightmare, eyes flashing open with your chest heaving up and down. "Shit... My head.." It felt like someone had stuck a needle through your head due to the piercing pain that stuck from the nightmare.

You held onto your head as you nauseously walked out of your half-opened rooms door. You reached out your left hand, holding your head with the other as you tried to count the doors away to his room.

You pushed a door open, walking inside assuming it was his. His eyes quickly shot over to you concerned, he was wrapped with a fluffy soft blanket as he played on a 'Xbox'. "... Huh?" He spoke with a quizzical tone calling out your name, walking to you with the blanket, wrapping you with it instead.

"Uh, you alright?" Brows slightly furrowing, you nodded; "Yes.. Kind of.." You sighed. Burrowing yourself into his blanket, trying to wrap yourself like a burrito,

"Go back to your room, I'll make you a hot choco... If you even can by yourself." You nodded, walking out again with the blanket loosely yet tightly wrapped around your body, falling onto your mattress still feeling sick to the core.

You heard his wary footsteps, turning you around and making you sit up, "Can't you drink it by yourself?" You nod in response, but he sighed in annoyance as he placed the mug over to your lips for easy access to the hot choco.

Watching your lips slowly be stained from the hot choco and slightly glistening each second dusted his cheeks with a pinkish hue. Till you stopped and mumbled about something like; ’'m too full..’ as you fell asleep straight away. He scoffed at the sight of the possibly wasted leftovers, only to decide on drinking it. And he hoped your dang 'condition' isn't infectious.

Now morning, the sun eagerly shone onto your face peeking from the blinds. "Ugh... It's already morning...?" You whined, tossing around in bed sleepily.

Someone knocked... once-twice-thrice, on your door waking you up alertly, "You awake yet?" The voice seemed to be Scara behind the locked door.

"Come in...– Oh wait, the doors locked." sighed, you did. Getting up making the 'soft fluffy' blanket fall, and to lazily unlock the door, twisting the knob opening it for him.

"You said you wanted to check out the place I buy clothes at, how come you're still so tired?" He scolded.

"Ugh...-gimme a break. It's so early." You sobbed back in response, yet he pointed at the wall clock somehow right infront of 'your room', the time showing 10:21 am

"It's the perfect time to go now, unless you want the parade to be rained on when we have to go home around 2 pm." Crossing his arms, "Oh c'mon, are we even gonna take that long?" complained, you did.

"I'll just go shower first. You better be alert and awake when I come back." He complained back, walking away downstairs to shower, you scoffed angrily throwing yourself back into bed for a few minutes before getting back up—You are the one who did ask after all.

You walked slowly downstairs, sitting down near the table in another sleeping type of position as you burrowed your head into the table.

"I'm done, you can go now, you can borrow one of my moms extra pair of clothing." He said while drying out his hair with a towel, walking away upstairs to do something.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

yea thats it. I'll make a part 2 in idk

#prylleewrites—✮ #scara #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #scara x fem! reader #scaramouche x fem! reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer x afab! reader #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Fight Night

ALRIGHT! Life is wilder and crazier than normal and I have finally had a singular moment to breathe so it is time to do my first scene breakdown of Only Friends. Jojo and co have been feeding me so well, a literal feast of good sex choreo, hand placements, and puppy dog eyes that it has been impossible for me to figure out where I want to start.  But the end of episode five was just so expertly executed I couldn’t not talk about it, the build up, the explosion, the cool down?! Zero people in this production came to play, they showed up on set day one, gave some of their best performances, and just went about their goddamn day. [insert thirty more minutes of showered praise here]. 

So let’s get in to it: 

The Calm Before the Storm

We’re going to start with Sand and Ray before shit goes downhill, at a moment of genuine connection. This is not the first time we have seen them connect. The first of their peaceful, friendlier interactions are paid for by Ray but Sand quickly moves towards free hang outs with Ray after he gets to know Ray a bit better. I think we can all agree that 95% of the time that Sand and Ray are spending with each other, Ray is asking to be serviced (either seeking out sex, or being fed, clothed, or protected by Sand) [and I do think it is pretty telling that Ray’s idea of friendship is being taken care of in every way, and that Sand fully calls that out as being the role of a father]. But the 5% they do have of these moments of getting to know each other, primarily center around their own family dynamics, but in Episode 5, Ray does start dipping his toes in to getting to know more about Sand’s own hopes and dreams.

Where before Ray wasn’t really interested in Sand’s backstory as much as Sand was interested in Ray’s, now on the balcony of Sand’s dingy apartment, Ray finally starts to ask Sand about himself. And Ray is locked in, just absolutely attentive to Sand as he is talking, rarely looking away, asking follow up questions, and making statements based off of what Sand is saying. Things seem to be flowing smoothly, Ray seems slightly sad that Sand doesn’t know his father, he has an actual smile on his face with he tells Sand that he thinks his mother is really cool, and that he respects her. And of course he would respect the relationship that Sand and his mother have, the obvious love they have for one another, because he never got that from his own family. 

Sand has asked about Ray’s family before now (they talked about Ray’s mother in Ep. 2) but when they were first starting to get to know eachother, Ray brushed off any further conversation around his mother’s death. But that willingness to be honest with Sand is beginning to shift. Ray sits there listening to a birth story that runs parallel to his own, a mother with an unexpected pregnancy after a hookup, a father that wasn’t really intending on having a child, and Ray is faced with what his life could have possibly looked like if his mother was a different person. 

And they’ve been hanging out all day, Ray has seen much more of Sand’s personal life, his family life, it’s Sand’s birthday, they are cross faded, and Sand asks Ray once again what happened to his mother, and Ray takes the opportunity to be honest. He watches Sand refill his glass, and he says “she drank herself to death”. 

Now, personally, this is a very important moment to me in terms of both understanding Ray better as a character, and getting Sand and Ray to connect to each other more. A really important thing to remember about substance use disorders is that they are aware of the health consequences of long term substance use. Ray knows his mother drank herself to death, Ray knows that alcohol in the quantities that he is consuming are dangerous, and he cannot stop drinking. Ray does not have any good coping mechanisms for when his life gets hard, (and we will see a much stronger example of that near the end of this scene), but in the build up to the blow out, we are taking some time to re-establish that Ray has a drinking problem. And we are gaining a bit of further insight in to the genetic history of Ray’s own mental health problems. 

I’d have to go back and rewatch all the episodes to be completely certain, but I think so far the only person we haven’t see call Ray a burden is Mew, Mew who knows that Ray tried to kill himself two years ago, Mew who remembers that Ray said if he was gone he wouldn’t be a burden anymore on his goodbye phone call. I mention his mostly because, if that is true, then that is an indication to me that Ray’s other friends don’t really know that much about him. They don’t know how deeply the idea that he is a burden to everyone around him is rooted in to his psyche. They probably don’t know anything about Ray’s relationship to his mother, after all, she died when he was still in high school. 

We know from the end of Episode 4, that Ray has shifted his interests from Mew to Sand. That is not to say that he is not still in love with Mew, or that he wouldn’t drop Sand as soon as possible if presented the opportunity to date Mew, at least from my perception. But what it does indicate to me, is that Ray is beginning to at least consider Sand someone that care about him, that will listen to him, that will be an emergency contact, and as such Ray is more willing to be upfront and honest about who he is as a person. How his mind works, what his place in his own family is, what his own connection to family is. 

Ray senses he is bringing the mood down, and makes a comment to change the subject, shutting down any potential deeper conversation or exposure to pity that he could have with Sand. We know Sand has been down bad for Ray since like…Dick Down 1, but he is really just embarrassingly obvious with his interest in Ray. The way his face goes slack jawed when he looks at Ray’s face for a second too long? Your cool guy persona is in the fucking gutter. ANYWAY, the point of this is that Sand and Ray are vibing, having a good time, connecting, Ray is opening up more, and Sand is falling deeper in to this infatuation at the first sign of Sad Boi Hours when we cut to Nick and Boston. 

Boston, who has had a genuinely peaceful day thus far. He got some work done for school, he and Nick clarified their relationship to one another, he made out in the pool, and he’s looking to reward Nick for changing by asking if he can stay over. We know that Boston has been blackmailed by someone, we know that as a result of that Boston has decided to “settle down” a bit as it were, spend more time with people who he can talk with afterwards. (If you ask me, this isn’t really what Boston wants, it’s just how he is trying to justify laying low with Nick, someone he thinks he has control over and someone I don’t think Boston suspects is capable of blackmail). 

It is Boston who suggests staying over (I am not going to dig too much further in to his choice to ask Nick, but I will just look respectfully towards the thought that he doesn’t want to be found). 

Anyway, Boston asks if he can stay over, and Nick smiles like he’s won something, and leads Boston inside, where they both promptly interrupt Sand and Ray. Boston’s face lights up when he sees Ray there, but not in any way that indicates that Boston is actually excited to see his friend. More so, that he has gotten +1 Information in his notes on Ray’s comings and goings. 

Boston sees Sand and Ray, and he is scheming already. The very first fact we learn about Boston in Only Friends is that he is The Hunter, and while we have primarily seen this in the way that he hunts-for-that-d, Boston is a hunter through and through, he doesn’t just aim and fire, he plays with his prey. He toys with Top and Nick’s emotions to try to manipulate them in to what he wants, and he sees Ray and Sand together here, and the douchebag gears begin to turn. 

But, Boston needs to know what these two are to each other first, so he can figure out his best approach to fucking with the two of them, so he asks:

“What’s with you and Sand?” 

“What? We’re just friends,” Ray says with a smile and a small laugh, like he is trying to brush off any attempt for Boston to think of Sand and him as anything more. Sand is of course, devastated (and it is at this point I would like to make a tangential remark about the brilliance of the cinematography in this entire scene because it frequently moves between blurry and clear, like the camera is having as difficult of a time focusing on any of the characters as the characters themselves are, since they are under the influence). 

Nick, having already interrupted the SandRay foreplay once today, tries to pull Boston along quickly, to give everyone in the apartment some motherfucking privacy, but no no, when it comes to every other person in the world besides himself, Boston does not do privacy. So he cockblocks himself and SandRay and suggests they all party instead. 

The Build Up

There is this moment of awkward tension, that Nick tries to break by saying that Boston is bothering Sand and Ray, but Sand, having just been reminded that Ray does not think of him as anything more than friends, agrees to all hang out together, thus shifting the mood between himself and Ray from sexual to casual. 

And Boston? 

Oh Boston has already won. 

Now, before I get further in to breaking down this episode, I just need to take a minute and just give a huge MASSIVE shout out to Neo motherfucking Trai. He has absolutely been destroying this role, he is clearly having such a good fucking time. But I don’t care about that part (I do but it’s not the relevant aspect here), I care about how much of Boston’s character, Boston’s internal monologue Neo reveals through Boston’s eyes. 

Boston has been watching how Ray and Sand interact with one another, he saw them make out, he saw Ray grab a cookie from Sand’s mouth with his own, and now, he is sitting here, with Nick pressed up against his chest watching Ray flirt with and cling to Sand. That boy has mischief in his eyes, that boy is a hunter and he smells fresh meat. Boston is The Drama, and while he’s in the middle of his own blackmail saga, he’s found new toys to pass the time until the dust settles. 

This is the face of a man who will cause problems on purpose. This is the face of a man who does not give two shits about upsetting the people in front of him. Boston is a miserable, manipulative piece of shit, and he will drag everyone down to his level. 

I am showering praise in Neo’s general direction, anyway, Boston is studying Ray and Sand’s interactions, the way they talk with one another, all the little things that point towards there being some genuine feelings. 

“The cookie’s getting to me”

“I told you to hold back”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not driving” 

“Can I stay over?”

“More often than this I’m going to start making you pay rent”

“Go ahead”

They aren’t talking like this is a one time thing, they aren’t talking like they are just fuck buddies. The way that Ray and Sand are slightly bickering/scolding each other, the way that Ray just so absentmindedly reaches to put his arm around Sand, it reads a very particular way. Especially when you add on the fact that Nick interrupted them in the kitchen that morning. 

Now, something happens here that could have been good. If Boston was a good person, if Boston actually cared about his friends, if Boston wasn’t such a fucking Masshole. Because Sand has been very obviously dopey and doe eyed for Ray for ages and the lines between lust and love have been blurring heavily for him. But when they started fucking, Ray and Sand both discussed and established the nature of their relationship. Only friends. No love, only sex. Friendship can come from sex. Sand wouldn’t take someone like Ray as his boyfriend (liar). But things have changed since their first hook up, at least for Sand. Sand is catching feelings and Sand has not talked with Ray about how his feelings are shifting. 

And Nick actually opens up the potential for Sand and Ray to have that conversation when he asks “Are you and Ray going out?” 

See, Nick is definitely nasty4nasty when it comes to his desire to be with Boston, and Nick is by no means whatsoever a pure person, the man bugged Boston’s car and kept the recording for fuck’s sake, but he is also not an asshole the way that Boston is an asshole. Nick isn’t asking Sand if he and Ray are going out because he wants to fuck with them, he’s asking because he is genuinely curious, because this ain’t the first time that he’s walked in on them.

But don’t pay attention to Mark Pakin’s body language here, because Nick is obviously drunk, relaxed, content, and curious. Look at Neo. Look at Boston. Look at the way Boston is looking at Nick when Nick asks if they are going out:

And look at the way Boston turns his gaze upon Sand and Ray the second Nick finishes asking the question. Boston is picking apart every action, every expression, every movement between Sand and Ray. Boston is calculating. This is not a dude that is just turning to look at the next speaker in a conversation. He’s staring deep into their souls to figure out how they actually feel about each other so he can decide if one or both of them cares enough about each other to be hurt by him.

So naturally, the next shot we get is Ray drunkenly cozying up to Sand, resting his head on Sand’s shoulder, in a way that feels very couple-y, in a way that feels different to the casual arm Boston throws over Nick like he’s got his prize on a leash. 

“You two talk all lovey-dovey like you are a thing, you know?”

Consider the fact that the second that Nick starts saying “you two talk all lovey-dovey, you know?” Ray peels himself off Sand’s shoulder and stares at Nick. And he’s smiling casually, like he finds the question funny, though he doesn’t fully break physical contact with Sand, still resting his arm across Sand’s shoulders. 

Sand is taken aback for a second, like he’s been caught, but he knows that he is not supposed to be falling for Ray. He knows he isn’t supposed to be wanting a relationship with Ray. He knows that this is not the time or space for a “what are we?” conversation, so he puts on a smile and squeezes Ray’s cheeks and says: 

“Look at his face. Look how squishy he looks. He looks just like a dog my mother has.” (Which we can interpret as Sand saying look at him, we cuddle cause he’s cute, I think of him like a pet). Associating Ray with his mother’s dog for me, feels like a way for Sand to try to get Boston off his back, to put his feelings in alignment with how Boston typically views his hook ups, as pets, as toys, as prey. But Sand’s face betrays him more than Boston’s ever could the very second that Ray says “I’m not a dog and I’m not his boyfriend” 

Sand has a moment of quiet devastation hearing that, even though he SHOULD KNOW BETTER. He should not be so upset about an objectively true statement. Sand may think of Ray as special, and may want to date Ray, and may want Ray to be his boyfriend, but they have never revisited their initial conversation about the nature of their relationship. As far as Ray knows, Sand would never take someone like him to be his boyfriend. Sand is just getting caught up in his feelings and this brief reprieve from the hard and labrous and exhausting life he leads is clouding his judgment.   

And Boston goes in for the kill 

“Ray, I bet Sand likes you. I can tell.”

And here is the question of the hour, a question I personally do not believe we have the full answer to, why the fuck is Boston targeting Sand? (beyond the fact he finds it fun). Boston and Sand clearly know each other, Boston knows Sand well enough to know that the weed he is smoking is not his typical supply. Boston came in to Sand’s home, smoked Sand’s weed, and then went straight for Sand’s throat. 

And Sand is a little mad and more than a little anxious. The way First plays the emotions in this moment is brilliant, you can see all these little moments of Sand feeling put on the spot, the way his mouth moves like he is trying (and failing) to maintain his composure. Like he is looking for an escape route, but can’t find one. Especially because Boston will not let him escape, explicitly calling Sand in to the conversation:

The Blow Up

“So what is it, Sand? Do you like him? My buddy here has both the looks and the dough. His type is hard to come by, you know?”

Sand tries to dodge, by putting on his logical person hat for the first time in what is most likely weeks. “Now that you said that” he starts with Ray literally moving his hand to brush it gently against Sand’s shoulders. “My answer has to be yes now, doesn’t it? But if you really want to know the answer, ask me again when I am sober” 

Sand is willing to let Boston win this, to concede here, to admit to liking Ray as if forced to agree expressly because Boston is poking at him about it. But he will not engage in an important conversation like the one Boston is setting up for him and Ray about what they are to each other when they are under the influence and when they are in public. 

Nick is like “alright”, but that is not enough for Boston. (SERIOUSLY LOOK AT NEO, LOOK AT HOW MUCH FUCKING DISATISFACTION IS BEHIND THOSE GODDAMN EYES! Jojo and Ninew fucking thank you for giving me Neo in this role, he’s been craving complex roles since his time on The Eclipse and I’m glad he’s getting to have some). 

Boston is watching, waiting, wanting to see how Ray reacts to Boston speaking for Sand. Unfortunately for everyone, but Boston especially, Ray does not have the reaction I think Boston is expecting. Instead of Ray getting uncomfortable, instead of Ray pushing himself away from Sand, instead of Ray doubling down on him and Sand not being boyfriends, instead of Ray reacting negatively to the idea that this “not his type” poor boy might actually like him he leans in close, he smiles wide, he teases Sand a little in a way that does not feel cruel. 

So Boston has to escalate. Boston has been stalking his prey in the grass for as long as he has been in this apartment, and now it is time to strike. 

“Even if you really do like Ray, I doubt it will work out between the two of you. Ray’s whole ass is owned by Mew” 

BOOM. Instant kill. Boston just made this entire encounter go from 0 to 100. Especially because (as far as we know), he has no goddamn idea about the dent in Ray’s relationship to Mew, and his realization about how Ray and Mew’s feelings are never going to align. 

Ray did not spend all that time sitting in the bathtub staring at a keychain and a Poor Boy shirt for nothing. Personally, I am uncertain where Ray stands with Sand, I think Ray is probably chasing the endorphins of a good and easy lay. I think he is drawn to Sand’s inherent need to act as a caretaker. But as I’ve said before, Ray uses Sand far more as a service provider than he does a person he wants to make genuine connections with, only recently has he started to open up more and seem more interested in Sand as a person.

But Boston is poking at an extremely sore spot. A spot I don’t think Boston considers as a nuclear option, because I don’t know that Boston is aware that Ray tried to kill himself. I don’t think Boston knows that Mew came and saved his life. I don’t think Boston is truly aware of just how deeply important to Ray Mew is because he seems to be one of the first people to make Ray feel less alone. 

Immediate anger. Boston has struck a nerve, gotten a bullseye. If he actually cared at all for his “friends” and their feelings he could have stopped there. Boston is a voyeur, a photographer, all he does all the time is watch, record, manipulate bodies. He can read people well, but he is cocky and overconfident about his own understanding of the situations that have occurred between people in his social circle. If Boston cared, he would see that Ray just turned on a dime, that the loose, casual, fuzzy, flirty person that was just wrapped around Sand has turned in to a tense, focused ball of rage. ““What the hell are you saying, Ton?” 

“What? Sand doesn’t know you’ve been in love with your best friend for years? But Mew is with Top now. Someone beat you to it, man.” 

So…my Dad has this habit of saying shitty things, and over the years we have made safewords with him to tell him when he is approaching saying something out of pocket and he should change the subject (“pothole”), and for when he has said something out of pocket and should probably stop talking immediately (“sinkhole”). My father consistently blows right through “sinkhole” and continues to dig his hole deeper. Boston reminds me of my father. 

Pothole: “Ray’s whole ass is owned by Mew” 

Pothole: “Mew is with Top now. Someone beat you to it, man”  

I honestly don’t feel like I need to use too much space here on Sand’s reaction, because I read a really good post by @bird-inacage about how this revelation hits Sand hard because he may feel stripped of his dignity and see himself as a fool. 

“What a shame for my pal” 

Shout out to Jojo and co for this shot of Nick. Nick who looks horrified. Nick, who I don’t think has seen this behavior of Boston’s up close. I mean, he knows that Boston has something on Ray and Mew, he didn’t really seem to care at that point. But Nick doesn’t really know Mew, Nick only cares about Top insofar as he is competition for Boston’s attention, he’s not really friends with Ray. But he is friends with Sand. And the implications from the beginning of the episode that Ray has stayed over and hung out with Sand all day multiple times, feels like Nick is at least starting to develop some modicum of care/friendship with Ray. And Nick is sitting there, watching Boston be cruel. Cruel to people that Nick actually cares about. Cruel to people that Nick doesn’t think deserve it, and the wheels are turning, so there isn’t much more he can do about it. 

“Oh wait. My bad. I remember you and Mew making out. Did you take his virginity?” (Sinkhole. Boston should probably shut his goddamn little whore mouth at this point)

“Ton, what the shit are you going on about?” Ray asks, shooting up from the ground and in to a standing position [and lord almighty is Khaotung just a powerhouse actor between the way he is able to physically embody Ray’s anger, and just look and act drunk all the time). This has turned in to a fight, Boston has riled Ray up, Boston has already punished both Ray and Sand at this point. But he has to make everyone around him as miserable as humanly possible in as little time as he can, so: 

“Oh? I saw everything. I took some photos, actually.” (SINKHOLE. No seriously dude you need to shut the fuck up right now). 

“What the hell did you do that for, bastard?” Ray is shifting his weight, Khaotung’s breathing has changed. You can fucking tell Ray’s heart is racing, that a blind rage is seeping in to his bones. Ray is livid.

“What? I just want to keep track of my best friends’ romantic moments. Was I wrong?”

 

(Spoiler alert to those reading this post for the body language breakdown: Boston does not actually give a single flying fuck if he is wrong)

“Keep track?” 

And finally someone punches Boston straight in the mouth! And even still! EVEN STILL Boston cannot shut the fuck up. Boston is righteous in the worst possible way. Boston is hurting everyone around him for the sake of “honesty”, “clarity”, “visibility” in a way that Boston himself in his own life actively avoids. With Nick he keeps their relationship status unclear, with Nick he refuses to get photographed, with Nick he hides the fact that he hooked up with Top. But Boston will air everyone else’s dirty laundry, Boston will record and photograph everyone else’s private moments, Boston will give facts as best as he knows them when literally anyone else is involved:

“Sand has every right to know. Ray is in love with Mew. They even screwed! But good thing you came along, Sand. He needs to get over Mew”  

“What does it have to do with you?” Ray is still fucking pissed, and this is a really important and relevant question to ask. Boston has no place in Ray and Mew’s private business. Boston has no right to record them without their permission. Boston has no right to have this conversation about Ray’s feelings with Sand. And Boston does not answer this question. He will not answer this question, because for Boston everyone else’s business is his, and his business is no one’s. 

Now, do I think Boston is lying about Ray and Mew having sex? No. I think there are actually a number of layers to that statement. I think we are either a) setting up to have a killer conversation about people’s perceptions of sex/people’s perceptions of what counts as sex or b) that Boston fully thinks he saw Ray and Mew do something sexual when they actually didn’t [think Ray throwing up while doubling over Mew so it looks like he’s giving head]. And it is worth noting that Ray doesn’t deny the statement, although this doesn’t necessarily mean anything because there are lots of words and fists and vitriol being thrown around at this point, confirming or denying any sexual relationship with Mew is not really going to do anything to calm this situation. 

“If you’re not in love with him anymore, then why did you get so mad?” Boston asks, and I love that this is phrased as a gotcha! moment. Boston thinks asking why someone got mad enough to punch him in the face after he said he was keeping track of his friends' romantic lives by holding on to pictures he had taken of them in secret is definitive proof that he is correct. Ray got real mad about Boston’s doucheness, and that must mean that Ray is love with Mew. 

And he isn’t totally wrong. We know that Ray is in love with Mew, we know part of why Ray is in love with Mew. We know that Sand is now filling a similar role in Ray’s life as the only person who is willing to take care of him. But this question for me highlights a huge aspect of Boston’s character that I do not think we appreciate enough. 

Boston does not know everything, and he acts like he does. 

Ray is getting so mad at Boston because what Boston is saying is true AND Ray is getting so mad at Boston because Ray almost compromised his relationship with Mew by kissing him when he was sleeping. Ray is in a weird place right now in relation to how he sees Mew and how Mew sees him. At the moment, Mew is patient, kind, and forgiving, and willing to maintain their friendship and accept Ray’s apology as long as Ray can get it through his head that Mew is never going to see him as a potential romantic partner. If Ray cannot do that, Ray loses a very important person in his life. (And we see Mew punch Ray in the promo for next week, my hunch is that Nick tells Ray about Boston and Top and Ray tries to warn Mew about Top and Mew takes that as Ray lying to break them up, but that’s beside the point). 

Boston may be correct that Ray is in love with Mew, but Boston has no idea what the fuck he is talking about when it comes to Ray’s current relationship to Mew. Boston does not know that Mew and Ray are in a rocky relationship right now because of Ray’s feelings. Boston thinks that he is right that Ray is in love with Mew because Ray gets so mad so quick, because he does not understand that a huge part of what is riling Ray up is that Boston is poking at a deep injury he thinks is just a flesh wound. 

And still after Boston has gotten a fist to his face, and swung back; even after he has shoved Nick out of the way so hard Nick fell on to the couch; even after they had blown off some steam and were de-escalating to the point of screaming at each other rather than beating eachother up. Boston 

Still 

Can 

NOT 

Quit

“Oh, are you going to be two-timing?”

Boston is literally just…going in to a house that is not his and lobbing grenades all over the place cause he’s fucking bored. Cause he sets Ray off again, leaving Sand, screaming at Boston and Ray to stop fighting (IN HIS OWN FUCKING HOUSE, AFTER SHARING HIS OWN FUCKING WEED). 

Boston listens to Sand, Boston walks away, Boston goes to Nick’s room. But the look in his eye? 

He is not done with this. Boston is not surprised that Ray got mad, Boston was reveling in Ray’s reaction, but I think Ray’s rage went beyond what Boston had anticipated, and this feels to me like an act of war. 

The Cool Down

Boston and Nick remove themselves from the scene and Ray and all his infinitely perfected coping skills rushes to chug as much alcohol as he can. 

Again, thank you to Jojo and co for spending this amount of time highlighting Ray’s addiction, reminding us that Ray is not just a party boy, but is an alcoholic. Ray’s using alcohol to calm his nerves, possibly to forget what happened, and definitely because he has no idea what else to do but run to the most comforting item he can. 

We cut to the silence of Sand’s bedroom. Sand and Ray laying awkwardly side by side. Ray, to his credit, does try to comfort Sand 

“Hey, don’t listen to what Boston said. If there’s something you want to know, ask me” 

The problem is, while Boston does not have the full context for the depth at which he has just hurt Ray, he is still right. Ray loves Mew, and if Ray didn’t, he would not have gotten mad the way he did. Ray can say whatever he wants here, Ray can ask to be trusted by Sand to tell him what he wants to know. But Sand has seen enough of Ray’s behavior, been jerked around enough by Boston, heard too many times in too short a period that Ray does not consider them anything more than friends, and so Sand is back to boundaries and barriers. 

Sand lost sight of himself, and he fell too quickly for a deeply broken boy that he cannot fix, and who is not emotionally available enough to be a good fit for him right now. 

And God, for as much as Sand exists to be jerked around by the narrative and shit on and used by the wealthier characters, I see why First was picked to play this role (besides the fact that there is no one else but Khao that I think could have done Ray, and it’s hard to kick the GMMTV pair-ups.) We have not even gotten to the height of First Crying Over Problems That Are Partially His Character’s Fault in this show yet, but First is a master at microexpressions, and despite the fact that his face is pretty neutral, that Sand has put on this mask, there is just such a palpable disappointment radiating off of Sand. The shine in his eyes is dulled, I saw someone on tumblr say this really looks like the first time that Sand has seen Ray, looked at him without the rose-colored glasses. 

Sand’s mother loves him, I think he is special to her, but it is hard to feel special to someone you have to take care of. In the montage at the beginning of the episode, Sand is shown working, working, working, working and we don’t really see him interacting with other people who he isn’t providing a service to. He sings at the bar, he seems to enjoy that, he seems to have a good time with Yo and Atom, but he is only that close to them because they pay him to play there. He is providing them a service. The only classmates he is shown interacting with are clients he is selling plum wine to. It’s really possible that Sand’s only friend is Nick, and we don’t see them hanging out that much. 

And, I know there is always some contention about how any and all of these characters feel, how much or how little they are telling the truth, etc. But for me personally, I think about when Ray said that he does care about Sand’s feelings, and I at the time he said it, I don’t think he did, but I think by Episode 5 he is starting to genuinely care. 

Ray is getting better at reading Sand, Ray is trying to have a serious conversation, or at least to open the floor to one, and Sand is sad and so he isn’t saying anything, and Ray is able to tell that something is wrong. Ray wants Sand to talk to him, Ray says Sand’s name multiple times, trying to get him to answer verbally. 

And Sand can’t do it, not if he is looking at Ray, not if he has to actually face the reality of how much of a fool he has been, to fall this deep, to fall this fast, to get it in his head that he and Ray were becoming something more than friends. To actually believe for even a second that someone could think he was special. 

So he closes his eyes, and he takes a deep breath, and he says: 

“Forget it. I’m tired. One more thing…This has nothing to do with me.” 

Who is he talking to here, Ray or himself? 

Sand’s inhale in this moment is deep, it’s weary, unsteady, and sad. Sand is gathering the strength to let go of what he thought he had. He is rebuilding his walls, and placing Ray on the other side of them. He cuts Ray out completely the second he turns his back. And you can just see the guilt all over Ray’s face, you can see all these little bursts of realization moment after moment where Ray realizes that he’s losing Sand now too. Even though Sand is likely more of a consolation prize to him, an easy victim of his puppy dog eyes. 

Alone o’clock is not just for Sand, it’s for Ray too. Boston has won yet again because Boston is a miserable sack of shit lashing out because Mew and Top finally fucked and he has to make it everyone’s problem

Tagging the ephemerality squad: @lurkingshan, @waitmyturtles, @chickenstrangers, @ranchthoughts, @twig-tea, @clara-maybe-ontheroad, @distant-screaming

and my blessed mess crew: @so-much-yet-to-learn, @ginnymoonbeam, @bengiyo, @shortpplfedup, @neuroticbookworm, @emotionallychargedtowel because I want attention :)

#only friends the series #only friends #ofts #sandray #bostonnick #firstkhao #neomark #first kanaphan #khaotung thanawat #neo trai #mark pakin #jojo tichakorn #ninew pinya #wka long post #only friends analysis #only friends meta #ofts meta

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Forget-Me-Not 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Loki

Summary: You return to your childhood home to put the past to rest.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You spend the night on the couch. You don't go further than the bathroom. You can't bring yourself to check her bedroom or the one you left behind.

You go out to get your bag and change in the yellow haze glowing behind the faded curtains. You check the time. Jan is expecting you in an hour.

You emerge into the dewy morning and tramp down to ground level. You get in the car, reversing out without looking back at the dingy house. The final farewell can't come soon enough for the slanted walls.

Jan is out in the yard, hammering a pineboard as you drive down his lot. His white hair curls with the sweat beading on his skin. He stills the hammer and wipes his forehead as you pull up. 

You get out as he greets you in the way all the villagers do. A manufactured friendliness that cannot erase their true judgement. They smile in face just as easily as the mutter your name under their breath. You mother harboured little good will in Hammer Ford and blood is sacred here.

“Sorry to hear,” he says.

“Matter of time,” you shrug dismissively.

“Isn't no way to come home,” he shakes his head and coughs into his fist, “walnut,” he points the hammer over his shoulder, “like ya said.”

Walnut, like the dining table. Where she sat and drank herself into that box. You nod and follow him over to the casket. The hinges are brass and the finish is rough. What does it matter? It's just going into the dirt.

“Got cash,” you say. Jan doesn't deal with the bank, everyone knows that. Funny the little things that stick with you.

“Thanks,” he accepts the bills as you count them out. So much for a rainy day. The sun shine bright as if mocking the grin affair beneath its watch. “I'll have it taken down to Norn's.”

“Yep,” you agree, “she's there.”

You head out without further niceties. Neither of you uphold those. Better to say what you mean and nothing else.

You get to the property line and idle. You turn away from the woods. You're not ready to go back yet. 

You stop by the church first. Father Oswald sits with you to discuss the ceremony. You'll say a few words at the grave site. You don't think anyone would come to a wake. You don't want them to.

You set off again, still reluctant to retrace your steps. You drive to the spare core of the village and park outside the library. You cross the street and peer in through the window of the bakery. It wasn't there when you left.

You venture inside and peruse the sweets behind the glass. You order a black coffee and a cinnamon bun. You pay the woman behind the counter, vaguely familiar. You're certain she was a few years behind you at school.

You sit and pick at the glazed dough. You don't have much of an appetite. You don't feel much of anything. You're just wading through, try not to get lost in the tide.

You sip the coffee. Bold but rich. Not bad. Better than the instant powder gone stale in your mother's cupboard.

The door opens and shuts, several times over as you stare at the table. The city taught you apathy. You don't let the noise bother you.

The chair across from you slides out and a figure plants themselves on the seat. You raise your head, your vision narrowing to make sense of their features. You turn your head to gaze out the window as Loki blows over the top of a mug. 

You slide out your phone, a defence mechanism. Still no reception. You put it down and keep your attention diverted. He clears his throat and taps his toe next to yours.

“You know, I do have an important matter to discuss with you,” he says.

You don't react. You know that's what he wants. That's why he showed up the night before. He undoubtedly insisted on being his clan’s representative.

“You've sent your condolences.”

“Mm, yes, but that isn't what I mean,” he traces his finger up the handle of his mug. “The house.”

You lower your brows and keep your eyes beyond the window. The village moves slow as ever. Not like the endless flow of the city streets. There's no where to hide here.

“My father has an offer. The property has value.”

You check your cup, almost empty. You swig the last of it. You stand and gather the cup and unfinished dessert. You put the porcelain on the counter and toss the cinnamon bun on your way out.

The door doesn't close behind you. He's following you. Your heartbeat piques. In an instant, you're hurled into the past. You're running through broken twigs as he snickers behind you. You ball your hands as your breath hitches.

You cross the street without looking, only just dodging a bumper. You go to your car, fumbling with your keys. Before you can stick them in the slot, there's a snare around your arm.

You spin and shove Loki off of you, biting down on a shriek. You glare at him and point the key at his chin.

“Not interested.”

“My father will give you more than the bank,” he counters. 

“Don't care.”

He sniffs and quorks his head, “is this because I never called?”

You choke on a scoff. You turn and ram the keys in the slot and twist. You open the door as you step around it. The edge hits him as you swing into the driver’s seat.

“The house is worthless. The bank will give you pennies for the land.”

“Go tell your daddy you failed,” you sneer and yank the door shut, hitting the lock with your fist.

You start the engine without a glance in his direction. You pull put as he barely avoids getting his toes run over. Just as ever, this village belongs to the Odinsons. They won't have to pay the bank much to get what they want but you will never sign your name next to theirs.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #drabble #au #backwoods au #series #thor #avengers #mcu #marvel #forget-me-not

[onepiecepetalfanfics089]

Hello sweet pea! I see that you like yanderes! May I request a Yandere!Luffy x Female Reader? It could be your own prompt, idea and choice of genre for the fic! (Angst, smut any one you prefer love!)

Love you like I do~..

When you first joined the crew everything was great! It was fun and most of all adventurous, you considered all of your crew mates very good friends who always looked out of you!…

But your captain was a little..too friendly..you just couldn’t put your finger on why he was attached to you. He was already a pretty friendly guy, but with you..

The day was just about to end in a warm summer evening you the wind blew a nice breeze. The deck was pretty quiet which was rare but you liked it. Staring at the sunset you yawned and smiled softly, the wind blowing through your hair.

Your thoughts were wondering just about everywhere but became silent when you felt two stretchy arms wrap around you. You didn’t even have to turn around to see who it was..feeling him nuzzle in your neck you sighed softly and put on a calm and collected voice. “What’s up Luffy?..” you asked softly, turning around to face him with a small smile.

The boy grinned and chuckled. “Shi Shi Shi! Nothin’! Just wanted to come see you!…say what are you doing all by yourself?” He asked with his usual cheery attitude, you noticed that he didn’t pull away from you which was normal. Out of all the crew members he was clingy with you the most, you never knew or understand why but he just seemed to be around you all the time!..even coming to your some nights and sleeping with you in your bed no matter how much Nami hit him over it.

You smiled softly and glanced at the sunset, finding his closeness to be a bit smothering but didn’t say anything..”oh I was just thinking about stuff..nothing much..” he blinked and smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist a bit tighter causing you to squirm a bit under him.

“Ah okay!!..well anyways Nami said we’ll be docking on another island in probably one to two days!” He said excitedly, still clinging onto you. You patted his head gently which caused his grip to grow tighter, him chuckling.

“That’s good..uh so luffy..can we talk about you coming into my room to sleep some nights..?” You asked cautiously, your captain in the straw hat blinked and his grin got a bit smaller but still smiling.

Okay that was a good sign right..?

“Well um I think it would be best if you stop that..Nami really doesn’t like it since it’s the women’s quarters..” you said trying to hide the fact that YOU wanted him out of YOUR space.

His smile now completely faded and he stared at you for a few moments. You gulp and suddenly seemed to realize how much he really seemed to loom and tower over you..

You gulp and smiled nervously. “So nami Saïd that huh?” He asked almost seriously his voice a bit more quiet. He had a somewhat blank look on his face but you could tell he wasn’t very happy.

Not waiting to get Nami in trouble or even worse..you shook your head quickly. “W-Well she didn’t exactly say it I just-” “Great so there’s no issue then right?..!”

“…..”

“..right?..”

With a nod you smiled holding back a sigh. “Right..” he grinned and stretched his arms around you even tighter for a second and nuzzled his head close to your neck.

2 hours later~

Having to take your mind off of things you were now in Usopps workshop, watching him tinker and tanker with new inventions or weapons used in battle, you sighed softly which got his attention. “Something on your mind Y/N?” He asked while lifting his goggles to his forehead to take a short break from working.

You hesitated for a bit but sighed softly again. This was kind of weighing on you ever since you joined the crew so it couldn’t help to just talk about your problems with another person right..?

“Well i mean..it’s not that much of a big deal but..ever since I’ve joined the crew I feel that luffy’s a little..odd around me y’know?..” you said looking up at the long nosed male.

His eyes seemed to study yours for a bit as he tilted his head and sat down beside you. “What do you mean?..”

You looked far into the distance and leaned back into your chair. “We’ll have you ever noticed that luffy’s acted really..clingy around me? I mean I don’t mean to toot my own Horn or anything but he practically comes into my room every night!”

You said sounding frustrated, the boy with the straw hat would not only come into the women’s cabin at night and disturb you by trying to snuggle under the covers with you. He would also just wake you up in the middle of the night to talk. Everyone knew he was very energetic and it was part of his personality but that was just weird..

Rubbing his chin Usopp seemed to think for a second and then nodded, almost turning serious. “Yea that is true..he’s always been so..attached to you..we all thought it was because he really trusted you but just the other day he almost punched Zoro in the face for something he said about you…not that it was bad or anything..”

You blinked and turned to usopp with a raised eyebrow. “Really..? What do you mean..?” Usopp sighed and crossed his arms, looking down he seemed to lean back in his seat as well. “Well not to be a tattle tale but Luffy turned all serious at zoro and I even saw him clench the table so hard it broke..he said “don’t ever talk about her like that again. Watch your mouth zoro!!”

Your eyes widened and you felt so many emotions..flattery, surprise and a bit of fear. Why had he gotten so defensive and protective?..even with his own crew mates.

You looked down at you lap and pressed you lips together. “I don’t understand..” you mumbled quietly with a soft sigh. Usopp seemed to sense your in sureness and distress and patted you on the shoulder and smiled. “Hey don’t worry..if it makes you feel better I’ll talk to him about it! Luffy’s an idiot sometimes and needs guidance!” He said optimistically, clearly trying to cheer you up.

You smiled and nodded while turning your head up to him. “Yea I would really like that..thanks Usopp your the best..” you said with a grin. He just chuckled and proudly placed his hands on his hips, “what are friends for?!” He said proudly.

The rest of the evening was spent full of laughs of Usopps silly lies and stories. You hadn’t felt this good in a long time…

That would all change very very quickly…

.

.

.

.

It was almost dinner time and you were currently on deck doing your favorite activity with Luffy beside you of course. Babbling on about some nonsense of the next island you learned to tune out a long time ago. Looking up from a split second you saw something that left you shocked.

Usopp had just came out of the medical bay with a black eye, broken nose and bandages around his arms and legs. He was frowning and had a terrified look in his eyes. Your gazes both met each other, Usopp quickly frowned even more gulping and taking a short step back. You quickly rushed to Usopp to ask what happened but was stopped by a arm stretching around your waist and pulling you back.

“L-Luffy let go! I need to go to usopp to see what’s wr-” “No. you’re staying with me Y/N.” You gasped softly as you looked back at him. His straw hat covers his eyes and he has a frown on his face, he was clenching the floor boards and looked dead serious.

“Captains orders..” he said looking up at you with a dark expression, you looked up at usopp and expected him to at least say something but he coward away it seemed. To scared of whatever Luffy had done to him. His lips were trembling and he quickly sped walk to ether his work shop or the men’s quarters.

Feeling betrayed and frightened you had no choice but to follow your captains orders, retreating to the spot you once sat right next him..just how he liked it.

Not even a minute passed and Luffy was grinning and being his cheerful self again. “Good! I knew you wouldn’t disobey a captains order shishishi~!” He laughed as he pulled you close, seeming to nuzzle you a bit.

You gulped and bit your lip, staring long and hard at that smile of his. What was that?..did Luffy just threaten you?..

Did Luffy hurt Usopp just because he tried to convince what he was doing was at least strange??..

Wrapping his arms around your waist even tighter his grin only grew and you knew that you could never escape this pirates clutches..rubber didn’t seem so fun and stretchy anymore..it seemed like chains..a cage even that held you tight. Filled with possessive, protective and even murderous tendencies.

All just to keep you safe no matter what.

Later that night when luffy snuck into your room and got under your covers, hugging you protectively. You felt him grin and gently kiss your neck and cheek repeatedly for a few seconds to claim you. Muttering incoherent words but definitely making out one sentence that sent chills.

“Mine Y/N..mine forever and ever..your MY girl..okay?..okay..” he didn’t even give you a moment to respond or protest. Falling asleep in less than a minute while holding you tightly against him.

No one could love you like he did..

@anemptypuddingcup I really hope you liked this and I’m so sorry it’s a bit short love but if you would like me to redo it then I will! Please feel free to request anything and anymore from me and I definitely will with you because your an amazing writer!! Also I know I’m posting this late but I always end up doing that with my stories 😅 I hope you like this!

#one piece #one piece strawhats #straw hat crew #writing #brook one piece #fypdongggggggg #yandere x reader #cat burglar nami #fypシ゚viral #one piece luffy #yandere #romantic #straw hat luffy #one peice #anime and manga #fypfypfypfypfypfypdypfypfypfypfypfypfyfpfyfpfyp #fypツ #luffy x y/n #monkey d. luffy #yandere one piece #op luffy #straw hat nami #straw hat usopp #fypシ #fypppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppp #one piece zoro #yande.re #fyp #tumblr fyp #straw hat pirates

[cherr-22]

TNGDH 40

The carriage ran without rest.

The barren land of the North had more areas untouched by human hands than there were that were touched.

The road was barely wide enough for the carriage to pass. If it turned to the side a little, the wheels would get caught in the wild vines or bushes.

That was why the carriage moved rather slowly. And the ground was so uneven that if the wheel hit a rock, my butt literally lifted off from the seat.

“……Hup.”

Damn it, motion sickness.

I never felt motion sickness as Bae Soohyun. Is it because I’m just not suited for riding horses? How is it that I’m always feeling sick whenever I ride one?

I leaned against the wall with a pale face, then rolled my eyes towards the main sitting across from me.

Even when the ceiling and floor was shaking, Kyle was steadfastly processing documents. It was as if he was sitting in a separate space than me.

As if I was sitting on top of a moving tortoise while he was on the flat ground.

“……Do you not get motion sickness?”

I couldn’t contain my curiosity and asked. After going through a few more documents, he raised his head and looked at me.

“Not at all. Is it very bad?”

“……I feel like I’m dying.”

“You should sleep.”

“…….”

Of course, I wanted to sleep. I would rather faint and ask them to wake me up when we arrive at the palace. But I couldn’t do that. I didn’t have enough time left for ‘Summon’.

It would take three days to get from here to the palace, but I only had two hours each day for ‘Summon’. Not even half a day would pass before I end up turning into a hamster. I’ve been surviving until now by eating the store-bought cookies.

I rolled my eyes and glared at the system window next to me. 3 hours and 30 minutes before ‘Summon’ was canceled.

“No……. it’s alright.”

“There’s a village close by. I’ll wake you up when we arrive, so take a nap for now.”

“Ughhhh…….”

I wanted to be a bit more stubborn and stay up, but I didn’t have the stamina to do so.

I crossed my arms above the hamster house and leaned against them. I called the system quietly. Hey, come out.

[_:(´ཀ`」∠):_ ]

“…….”

……You also get motion sickness?

Is that even possible?

I stared at the emote for a moment with a puzzled expression on my face, then closed my eyes as the carriage started shaking once more.

‘Hey…… system……. sound out an alarm for me after two hours. Please…….’

At this rate, I’ll really die of motion sickness before I could even do anything.

After sending out a nodding emote, a 2 hour timer appeared mid-air. As the time ticked away, I took out the [Emergency Toffee Nut Candy] out of my inventory and put it in my mouth.

I didn’t know if anything would happen, but I wanted a temporary measure. I didn’t want Kyle breaking into the hamster house while I was asleep.

The hard and sweet candy melted in my mouth. I felt the sweetness of caramel syrup melting into syrup and went to sleep.

In my fading consciousness, I felt the wind blowing through my hair.

Hopefully, when I wake up, I’ll be at the village……

*

Beep beep beep beep―.

A familiar sound rang in my head.

As I continued to ignore the constant beeping noise, it began to change into different variations. After an intense vibration, I even heard an obnoxious voice saying “good morning”.

‘Let me sleep for 10 more minutes……. no, 5 minutes…….’

I frowned and turned my head the opposite direction of where the noise was coming from. I found a more comfortable position to sleep in. Yes. If I could sleep just a bit more like this…….

Suddenly, I felt a chill run down my spine.

I raised my head in shock. When I opened my eyes and looked straight ahead, I saw Kyle just a few centimeters away from my face.

“Wha…… wha, wha- what is it?”

My words came out like a broken radio.

I reflexively moved away and held onto the hamster house tighter. Kyle watched me quietly and opened his mouth to speak.

“You seemed to sleep uncomfortably, so I was going to put it down.”

His eyes landed on the hamster house I was holding.

Wrong. What’s uncomfortable isn’t the hamster house but the carriage.

“I’m quite alright. More importantly…… we stopped?”

The carriage was no longer shaking.

I looked out the window. People were out gathering themselves into groups of twos and threes.

“We thought it would be best to rest for a bit, so we stopped momentarily. There were quite a few servants besides you who got motion sickness.”

“It’s more incredible that you don’t get motion sickness…….”

“……If you’ve woken up, let’s go out.”

I sighed in relief and nodded. As I slowly pushed myself off while hugging onto the hamster house, Kyle reached out his hand again.

“You cannot!”

“…….”

Before he could say anything, I quickly got off the carriage.

Since we got further away from the castle, I felt an unfamiliar spring breeze blowing. Of course, when I looked around, it was still covered in snow.

‘More importantly…….’

The strange feeling I felt earlier seemed to be from the effect of the toffee nut candy.

Even if there was a ghost behind my back, I wouldn’t have felt this way. Aside from being surprised, it felt rather unpleasant. No wonder they gave 5 candies for 0.5 Miracle Points…… the remaining 4 shall remain unused forever.

“I guess I’ll have to start making a move.”

It was impossible to keep eating cookies and holding onto the hamster house.

At this rate, my Miracle Points would run out dry and I would turn into a hamster inside the carriage.

Then, all the trust I gained until now would shatter to pieces……

‘They would definitely think it’s magic.’

And would think I lied to them.

From Kyle’s point of view, it’s natural that he would think that way. A person turned into a hamster. What reason would there be besides magic? Actually, I don’t know if even magic could even transform people into hamsters.

On top of that, he met me as both Cashew and Shu. He could think that I was trying to use him. He wouldn’t believe me if I say that that’s not the case. After all, the evidence would all be right in front of his eyes.

I inspected my surroundings. I must find a way out of here and transform back into a hamster.

“The village is pretty close from here, right?”

“That’s right. It was half destroyed after being attacked by demonic beasts in the past, but it has been recovering well lately.”

“It must’ve been due to His Highness Kyle’s efforts.”

“Yes. He’s truly an amazing person.”

I perked my ears as I listened to their conversation.

A village. And one that’s been attacked by a demonic beast at that?

Just then, a brilliant idea popped into my mind. I walked up to them to join their conversation.

“It’s good to hear that the village recovered. I haven’t heard any news about it after losing all my family members.”

“Family? Is your hometown that village?”

“Yes. It’s been a while since I’ve left.”

“When you said you lost your family…….”

“It’s a long story. An unlucky accident. ……No one would be there to welcome me, but I still want to visit my old home. I want to greet my parents and walk around to relieve my memories.”

“Then…….”

“If you tell His Highness, he would definitely help you!”

“Definitely! You know how His Highness is!”

The eyes of the servants sparkled.

I glanced over to Kyle. He was talking with a knight and was too preoccupied to look over me.

The servants stuffed snacks into my mouth, stuffed them into my pockets, and stacked them on top of the hamster house. Holding them all, I got back into the carriage. In that time, Kyle must’ve finished speaking with the knight and got back onto the carriage too.

“What are all those?”

“Snacks. Would you like some?”

He sat across from me and only laughed.

He’s been like this once in a while. He would just look at me and laugh with no reason. And when I would turn towards him, our eyes would meet right away.

‘……Makes me feel a little embarrassed.’

I avoided eye contact and opened the package filled with biscuits. I offered a piece to Kyle.

Just when I thought Kyle would accept the biscuit, he leaned over and bit it. Use your hands will you? Grab it with your hands.

“Does it taste better to eat it from my hands?”

“Very.”

“…Eat well”

The carriage began to move again. The horses must’ve rested well, because the carriage ran fast despite the rough road.

Thus, I felt like dying once again.

Watching me grow pale, Kyle offered me his laps. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to tell if I’m still on Earth or the afterlife once we reach the village.

I wondered how much further we had to go.

When I started to think the ride would never end, the carriage began to slow down its pace.

“Ahhhhhhh…….”

I got down the carriage while making a zombie-like groan. In front of me was a village.

‘It’s a lot larger than I thought.’

I heard it was half destroyed due to the attack, but besides a few collapsed buildings, it looked not much different than the Blake estate. It was a little smaller, but it was still quite lively.

After confirming that all the servants and knights were present, they took a 10 minute break and said they will start moving again. It seemed the palace was still quite a long way off, so they wanted to hurry.

Upon hearing that, I raised my hand. Everyone’s gaze turned towards me.

“I will stay here for a bit.”

“What do you mean?”

“This is my hometown. Since I’m here, I want to look around.”

“I cannot allow that for whatever reasons.”

“Please don’t worry. I’ll follow after…….”

“He said it’s his hometown, Your Highness!”

One maid shouted out loud.

“That’s right. His family all passed away and somehow ended up in the Blake estate. Look how scrawny he is! It must’ve been tough to travel all the way to the estate.?”

“He doesn’t talk about himself, and yet he brought up about his hometown. It must’ve been on his mind a lot.”

Everyone began to speak up for me. Some said I was too pitiful. Few argued that I could catch up with a single horse and a map.

As long as you weren’t a combatant, it seemed that stopping by your hometown was somewhat acceptable.

Kyle looked reluctant but eventually nodded with a sigh.

“Shu.”

He held out a heavy-looking bag in front of me. I struggled to accept it with the hamster house in my hands, so he put it on top of the cage.

“With this amount of money, you could catch the best carriage in this village. Don’t hesitate to use it all.”

“……Thank you.”

“Will you…… really be alright alone?”

It was a voice filled with concern. I kept my mouth closed for a moment, then mumbled awkwardly while avoiding his gaze.

“I’m not a child. Since it’s been a while since I’ve been here, I want to see everyone. My family.”

“Alright.”

His held my cheek and the nape of my neck with his hand. The leather tickled my skin, and I slowly walked away as if I was feeling a little regretful.

I unconsciously opened my mouth. I didn’t want to make anymore promises, but it felt like I had to at the moment.

“I will follow after you soon.”

So, please go first and wait for me.

Kyle smiled. I turned my head around slightly and our eyes met again. It was as if he had never taken his eyes off me.

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

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

#tngdh

[kimtaesss]

OUR BELOVED HOME | JIN.2

Summary: your relationship wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough for both of you. Yet that all changes when you caught your sister and husband in bed.

Pairings: Jin x reader

Genre: angst; slight fluff?

Warnings: poor y/n going through it 😭. Everyone is bipolar! I mean it! Jin is a dick and so is the sister! Mentions of father; mentions of death? Just lots of breakdowns and cursing. Also, I apologize for the wait! Ik it’s been sooo long, but life has been hectic. And lots of my writing got deleted. So, I also apologize for this short and confusing chapter. Thank u for the patience and love 🤍

first chapter > Jin. 1

No amount of apologizes or excuses were going to make up what you had just witnessed.

It's never easy seeing the man you love, the one that you promised to share your life with, and all the craziness included, being in the arms of someone else. Or in this case, laying on his back, while your sister was straddling him.

Your sister?!

It wasn't a stranger. It wasn't even an acquaintance. It was someone you grew up with and admired. You always thought that you and her had a special bond, but you guess it was perhaps a way to get closer to your husband.

It's embarrassing to even admit this to yourself; in your mind. And the worst part is that you witnessed it all. There was no erasing or denying that can be done on your part, when you saw everything. And heard the lies, and no care from their very mouths.

You're not even sure where you are at this very moment. You're just standing in front of a bunch of lights that are slowly fading away, as the night grows closer. While your hand carries your sandals, and your cheeks carry your tears.

Once you saw that incident, you had to leave. You had to run away from your thoughts, the lies, the betrayal, and the hurt. But something's just can't be avoided. No matter how fast or far you run.

"Now, now. Stay close to me dear, we don't know how that lady is" you heard a mother attempt to whisper to her daughter, while she stared at you with such disgust, that it made you scare to look at your own reflection.

You wanted to go up to them, and say you aren't a bad person or even scary for that matter. Your mascara had just wandered all over your face, as your heart began breaking into tiny pieces.

But you get it. You get her. She's protecting the person she loves the most.

You're a bit embarrassed to admit you're jealous of a little kid. After all, she had someone who cares for her, and isn't ashamed to show it. While you just have a signature on a piece of paper, with a man who keeps anything but his promises.

It was strange. Your mind has so much and so little going on. It was as foggy as the weather, and as confused as you were walking into that.

A buzz kept bothering your state of mind. And you know it's them, or at least one of them attempting to silence your truth. And you want to ignore it, them. But you couldn't hide the love and care you still possess for both of them. It's not something that can be erased with a snap of a finger.

You're not sure what triggered you most. The fact that your sister is texting you. Or the fact that she was texting you?!

She didn't even have the decency to attempt to call you. Or blow up your phone. Or even follow after you. Especially considering that her betrayal hurt you the most. The only difference was that it was so unbearable that you don't even want to attempt to feel or think of the pain she caused you.

Mia: I'm sorry.

That's it? She must really not give a single fuck about you. You should ignore her.

You: You should be.

Yeah, that was never going to happen. You staying silent that is. At least not when it came to her.

You noticed another notification and realized Jin, your dear husband, had sent you a message, minutes before her.

Jin: I'm sorry! Please just let me explain! I thought that was you! I swear, it's nothing like that. Babe please text me back! I'm worried.

You: Worry about yourself.

You shut your phone. And stare up at the building in front of you.

After yesterday, you could have sworn that you would not end up here today. But here you are, stupidly falling back to your old habits. Which you suppose, could be worse. Or maybe not.

Jin could have not had a more horrible week planned out even if he wanted to.

When he woke up that morning he wasn't expecting it to start the way it did, or end the way it did.

He knows that what he did was wrong, he can admit that. And he can also admit that he's known for awhile now but that never was enough to stop him from having sex with his wife's sister.

It’s been a couple of days now, that he’s been released from the hospital. After all, it wasn’t anything major. He had a couple of bruises and swelling, he shouldn’t have been there in the first place.

He supposed you freaked out because you just cared that much about him. Or maybe you just felt guilty since technically speaking it was your fault not his.

He has chugged three beers so far, while he's been at his apartment. He figured he should have a separate place for his shenanigans. That's why, he hasn't been over to the shared house.

There was just no words that could come out of his mouth in this instant to get him out of this mess. None.

He's also been waiting on his food to be here for what seems like hours, but there have been no signs, nor updates about it. He's starting to lose hair from all the stress he's undergoing this week.

However, once he opened his front door he was unaware of how much more stress he was able to handle again.

"What are you doing here? Haven't you ruined my life already?"

"No." She says with a proud smirk on her face. "That was all your doing." She ends off her little talk with a shrug. As she enters his home, with no regards to his feelings. Even hits his shoulder a little on the way inside.

He stared at her with confusion and annoyance. He even tends to headache by massaging his forehead with his fingers. But decides he might as well get this over with.

"How? How is this my doing?"

She takes no time to answer. Almost as if she had rehearsed this whole speech and interaction. God, was she exhausting.

"It takes two people to have sex. And you loved it as much as I did before she entered the room. I made sure you did" she sent a wink your way, and even has the nerve to bite her lips. If she wanted to look sexy, she's failing. She just looks constipated.

"Stop doing that face. It's gross."

"Yet you loved it when you texted me the other night. What was it that you said? You wanted to ruin my pretty little face?"

He gulped, as he watched her continue her rant. It's not like he could butt in and deny it. It's exactly what he sent her. He was drunk, horny, and annoyed of the previous argument or lack of, he had with his wife. And he knew she would cave in, she just loves the attention.

"I was drunk and horny I would have said anything to get laid. But then again, you would just about accept anything, to get laid as well. I don't have to try hard when you give it up so easy. Talk about having no love for yourself."

"Oh! I love myself just plenty"

Her comment only made you giggle. Who is she trying to convince? Cause she sure as hell won’t convince you.

"I'm not your mirror. You don't have to lie to me. Everyone who sees you knows you don't love yourself. Maybe that's why you're always invested in your sister's life?"

"Maybe?" she gulps, as she pretends his words had no real affect on her. When in reality, they ran through her veins like blood. And cut deep like a knife. "But you don't love yourself either Jin."

"I don't?" He was taken aback by her comment, simply because he never truly thought about this, himself. Did he love himself? Maybe.

"I mean if you did why would you lose someone like my sister? I mean she loves you so much, she's taken on a second job to help you with the bills! Aren't you the man in the marriage? Sure doesn't seem like it."

He simply rolls his eyes, as there's not much that can be said to defend his honor. Although, he hates how someone as dumb and useless as her, is making him feel like shit.

"Why don't you do all of us a favor and man up. Huh? Maybe then, you'll realize that the only real loser is you."

And with that she left. She didn't care to hear his response nor worry about how her words were hurting him. She knew she did. Jin may not ever have the balls to admit it, but she knows him like the back of her hand. There's also the case that he's predictable.

Her sister would have noticed sooner if she stopped thinking with her heart, and stop seeing him through her love lenses. She was as they say, "blinded by love".

He, however, was slowly realizing one thing.

She was right about everything.

Your phone kept buzzing but your mind was more busy and bothersome than any other noise. It felt like there was town full of people, swarming your mind.

You wanted to stop all the noise you kept finding, even without looking. You wanted to think of all the misery your husband had brought you throughout the years, so you can just leave him behind. With all the past broken promises, and you suppose now the present ones included.

You wanted to let go of your childhood, of all the memories and times you felt blessed to be surrounded by a caring and beautiful sister like yours.

You wanted to pinpoint when your whole life was beginning to become a lie.

Were you too busy thinking about yourself to notice when things were slowly slipping away from you? Were you too cocky to believe that you wouldn't be betrayed by the people you love and adore the most?

It seems silly to even dwell on things like this. You shouldn't have to carry such burden and guilt, for being the victim to their games.

You scoff wholeheartedly, as you stare at the pictures with hand made frames, that held every moment of your life, with people who only managed to brighten it up to later cover it with pure darkness.

"Y/n! Please open the door!"

You heard the knock but your body was too busy dwelling on the pain, that there was no strength nor thought to stand up and open the door. It's not like you wanted to either way.

Or maybe you did.

Maybe you wanted to hear their excuse so you can move past this nonsense. Maybe it was a prank to make you feel guilty for what happened earlier with Jin and Jimin, that stranger who made you feel more like a human and less like an object.

How you wish you could find a solution to this problem.

"Please.." his voice was slowly becoming faint, weak. And it spoke directly to your heart, the way it jumped a beat, and broke to tears.

"Just leave.." you answer back, as you're unable to see him face to face.

It's been a few minutes, and there's still no silence from the other side of your door. Which has lead you to have an internal turmoil.

Should you let him in? Or should you let him continue humiliate himself?

Well at the end he's humiliating you, as your neighbors are becoming aware of his affairs, and your troublesome marriage.

Therefore, you made the decision to let him inside. Even though, you're afraid of the outcome. You're weak there's no doubt about it.

As you slowly twist the door knob to let him in your home, your shared home you suppose. You look down afraid to make direct contact right off the bat. Because like you said, you were far too weak to even attempt to be strong.

And once he enters inside your home, he takes no time to talk his heart out, as he falls down to his knees, hands colliding, rubbing against eachother as he begs for his forgiveness. There's tears falling down his cheeks, and although it breaks you to see him in this condition. Your mind automatically wonders if any of this is real or an act to save his ass.

Because he sure as hell doesn't want to save this marriage. He had plenty of time to go to couples therapy, as you recommended him to do, for years now.

"It didn't mean anything to me. But you do"

"I don't" You scoff, as your eyes fall anywhere but his. You know that you're already too weak to avoid his calls or texts, or to not let him inside your place. As you eventually caved in.

And you know it's partly because you still loved him. But there was also this part of you, that hoped he was telling the truth. That all of this was just a dumb and stupid mistake. How badly you wanted that to be true.

But as you close your eyes to flee his stare, your mind wanders to the very reason as to why this is even happening. You see your sister on top of him, moving in a way, you wished you could. You see his smirk as he runs his hands all over her perfect body.

You mouth begins shaking attempt to cover a whimper that was slowly building confidence. You slowly start to build that confidence as well, as your eyes catch a small glimpse of his. And like your marriage, you broke down in several different ways.

You cover your face with your hands, again believing that you'll be able to erase everything that you witnessed, but instead making it harder. Because as your eyes closed, the images just came back stronger. You had more space to think of their affair. You had more space to think of how lonely you've felt throughout your whole marriage, and for some stupid, stupid reason you can't help but blame yourself.

"Y/n... please don't cry. I- I only want the best for you. I hate seeing you hurt."

You glared at him. You couldn't believe the audacity or the words that came out of the very mouth that promised you a lifetime of happiness and love.

"If you hate seeing me hurt so much, then why hurt me? Then why sleep with my sister? And why do it when I'm in the same fucking place?! I- I can't believe I ever loved you."

I can't believe I still do.

"It was an accident?! Why can't you fucking understand that? Huh? Accidents happen and not everyone is perfect. I'm human. I'm flawed, and you knew that before we got married. So just deal with it. This is who I am"

You scoff, shake your head, and laugh a little at his comment. " Was it an accident when your dick slipped in my friend? Or how about that waitress on our 3rd year anniversary? And I'm sure I'm missing a couple more..."

"This again? Are you serious?" He pulls his hair out of anger. And slowly starts getting up from the floor, he was previously begging for forgiveness. Guess, he’s abandoning that too.

"You're paying thousands of dollars for therapy, just so you can stay in the same place? You said you forgave me, so why do you keep bringing it up?!"

"Because I can't forget!" Your anger is slowly turning into exhaustion. You feel defeated, and unheard. How could possibly forget everything he has done to you, during your marriage? Nothing made sense anymore.

"I can't forget that you always found a way into someone else's arms and not mine!"

"It's not-"

"Don't!" You place your hands in front of you to prevent him from stepping closer.

"I vowed to be with you through sickness and health and I meant it. I meant every single word that night, but I can't keep fighting over the same thing, over different people. I can't keep making myself at fault for something you did. I- I can't keep feeling like this. I can't."

"Like what? What exactly are you trying to say?"

Typical. He only answered a bit that was insignificant.

"Like I'm just invisible. I want to be seen! I want to be able to feel you with me. I want to be... me. I don't know who I've become but I hate her. I hate me." You look down and start thinking.

"And it's stupid because I hate me more than I hate you. And I don't deserve that. And you don't deserve me."

"We deserve eachother." He immediately butts in as if it would confuse you, and make you agree with him.

"We probably did at some point. But we don't anymore."

"Y/n... just think about what you're about to say.."

There’s nothing to think about. He cheated again. He lied again. He choose someone else over you again.

"I want a divorce as soon as possible."

And with that you grabbed your purse, and walked out of your own house. You couldn't breathe if you had stayed longer.

And you hate that those words escaped your mouth, you were taught better. You were taught to fight for as long as it is needed, if it involved someone you loved.

And in a way you did abide by that. Because even though you love him more than yourself, the person that needed that extra love was not him but you.

You're not sure what else happened that night. And you chose to keep it that way.

Because the only thing you are sure of, is the headache you are currently possessing.

"Where the hell are my pills"

Unfortunately because of the fucking sun hitting your face, you can’t see anything. Leaving you to throw your hands around every spot until you feel a bottle, and hope it’s the one with the pills you need for this headache. Seems like you’ve been having more lately.

"Right drawer" a man with a deep voice comments, and you immediately jump, as you’re clearly startled by this random voice in this random setting.

You begin rubbing your eyes, and then shift to placing your hands onto of your eyes, hoping it blocks the sunlight. And gives you more access to the person in front of you.

But as you squint your eyes, and do all sorts of sports to have a clear view. It seems like your view only seems to be more out of focus.

"Dad? What are you doing here?"

"You accidentally butt dialed me. Figured I should come check on you, once I heard your argument with Jin." As he’s explaining everything to you, you slowly hide behind your blanket, or pillow. He’s simply laughing to your nonsense behavior, as he always does.

You’re sort of glad it was him over your mother.

"Oh." You begin sitting up on your bed. "That's embarrassing...."

"It's not." He answers with sincerity, that it almost makes you feel more at ease. But then you cringe, remembering the argument you had with your husband, and your father hearing everything.

You glare at him. Because of the position he put you in.

"It's not!" He attempts to assure you again.

"You know how many times, me and your mother had the divorce talk?"

That’s one way to bring you back to your senses.

"I don't know. How many?" You question, but also slightly shifting to avoid his gaze. You don’t like to make eye contact, it makes everything real.

"Too many times! We talked about getting divorce so much, it took time out of our days, making it impossible to actually go get it." He chuckles, as he starts imagining those days, the arguments, the threats. And a sad smile forms on his face, knowing that his marriage was ever at a point of ending.

"Well that's always nice to hear dad. I love how open you are about your lack of love in your marriage. While mine is also crumbling."

"I'm not bringing it up to hurt you. I'm bringing it up because well honestly speaking. I enjoyed the arguments with your mother more than I've enjoyed any normal conversation with anyone else."

"That doesn't make sense. You're not making sense."

He laughs. "What I mean is it's easy to want to give up on a marriage when it's hard or you know, serious offenses are being made like cheating. But sometimes it's important to realize that every human has a flaw, and with marriage we are supposed to accept that and even embrace it."

"Dad you're going all traditional on me."

"Y/n-" He attempts to cut you off and even begins remembering the speech he had prepared beforehand.

But you didn’t let him.

"No! Look I appreciate that you came all the way here to speak to me about your marriage, and what not. But this is mine. And I'm just not sure I can get passed this betrayal. I've forgiven enough."

"He just doesn't love me.." You lowly say, afraid to be judged by him. He was never fond of him, but here he was defending him instead of you. Maybe, you were asking him to talk all the shit he’s been holding in.

Of course, you’re never lucky.

"He does. Just speak to him." He placed his hand onto yours to give you some comfort. But you don’t feel it. You don’t feel his hand, his warmth, or comfort.

It makes you think of many things, but you attempt to shake it off and continue with your.. therapy session, you suppose.

"I already did. Trust me he doesn't."

"Well, I can't make you do anything but I'm always here. You know I'll always be your guardian angel."

Guardian angel? That’s a weird way to say he’s always going to protect you. You would have thought he would have said something cringe like a bodyguard. That was more on brand for him. But it’s getting sentimental, so you just go along with him.

"I know dad.. I know."

And with that you woke up. This time you woke up with all the lights turned off, with sweat pouring down your forehead. And your breathing becoming uneven.

You let out every single tear or emotion you held back, and release it. You had another dream about your father. And usually it's forgotten, but this time its not.

You look up and attempt to form a smile on your face, even if it was more on the sad side.

“My guardian angel”

Taglist: Tag list: @mwitsmejk @ikonsiconic @pretzelssbangtan @evafrechette @taelici0us @bjoriis @sukakakakakakkq @laylasbunbunny @belovedsthings @kimxhanbin131 @got7usernames @bambamsthings @rainfprest @whipwhoops @bloodline1632 @sevenlives07

#jin x reader #cheater seokjin #Taehyung #jimin #bts angst #bts fluff #Jin fluff #Jin angst #jimin fluff #jimin angst #bts seokjin #seokjin angst #bts namjoon #j hope bts #bts jungkook #bts yoongi #bts x reader #Jin x you #jin au #seokjin au #jin fanfic #seokjin fanfic

[connoisseursdecomfort]

The Love Story in Todome no Ichigeki (or a TwiYor AU)

I am so normal about the MV.

I would put some of the manga references the director has possibly used at the end, and as usual, manga spoilers would be out after the cut.

1

The story starts with her.

She's just killed a musician and taken over his identity.

This is the first time we see a close-up of her - right as she puts on the first piece of disguise.

The next scene shows a fully disguised assassin, with the sunglasses and the wig, arriving at the stage. She starts her performance.

She has a mission.

And her target has also arrived at the scene with his associate.

As she puts on her jacket and finishes up her final touches, it's all set, and she should be able to get her target.

Unfortunately, she is having a situation.

だから Therefore -

2

She picks up the pair of sunglasses. And she hesitates.

And then, without the wig and the sunglasses, she begins singing part of the chorus:

[Chorus] 今日の夜は隣にいさせて (隣にいさせて) Just for this night, let me be by your side 今夜だけは本気だからね (隣にいさせて) Because just tonight, it’s for real, you know. (1)

And with the line "こっちにきてもっと Come closer to me", she put out the cigar butt and caught his attention.

She goes on singing in her full disguise:

祈りあった未来とて The future that we prayed for 道が違うのよ アナタ And the paths that we walked on have always been different, my dear. (アナタ, give up! Give it up!) (My dear, give up! Give it up!) 互いの殺意で  トドメ喰らっちゃうね Our shared urge to murder will deliver the final blow and get us killed. (This is also the part that repeats as the song fades out.)

And once again, she sings without disguise:

やっぱりやめとくわ As I've expected, I should just give up.

3

It cuts to how they meet initially.

From this scene on, we begin to get camera shots that centred on him.

And this is, technically, their first meeting in their other identities. He tried to observe more intently, but she was hidden in darkness despite being placed centre-staged.

And as the second verse (the rap) comes along, she even turns around with her back facing towards him.

The rap verse initially echoes what she's been trying to convince herself: they walk on a path of countless tribulations and seemingly eternal darkness. However, if you search further in this seemingly endless wilderness, you'll find something else.

そこに現れた 心見透かすちっぽけな魂 There appears a tiny spirit that could see right through your heart. それは散らばるミクロ砂金 Like scattered microscopic gold dust. 手のひらに集め If you gathered them in the palm of your hand 密度高め万年を照らす 光の矢を放つ、穿つ Releasing an arrow of light with intensified density, illuminating and piercing through eternity (1)

4

And she wonders if she really can see through his heart and know who he truly is:

こういうのとか Things like this

そういうのとか And things like that

偽物じゃできないよね だから You can't do that if it was fake, right?

In the scenes of them being lovey-dovey, there were time they didn't show the entirety of their faces, and when they were seemingly facing each other, they had their eyes closed.

But she did manage to take his glasses off, took a closer look and even wiped away a drop of his tear.

For at least a moment he showed his true self and his weakness.

And だから therefore - she takes off her glasses, throws away her first disguise on stage, and repeats the chorus:

He slowly realises who she is, and what she's coming after.

He is her target. She's singing to him, and her love is mingled with her intent to kill.

Does she want to stay the night with him because she wants to kill him? Or is it because she loves him?

Or maybe she should have given up the mission a long time ago.

5

Why would she give up?

Maybe she's just getting used to this situation, slowly moving from the edge and starting to find comfort in this new position she’s found herself in.

Or maybe it's that moment when they could look at each other like a real couple.

She tried to look through the camera lens. And what she saw was so different from what had appeared in her mission files.

And he is right here with her tonight.

6

As she removes her last piece of disguise, she says:

もしもどこまでも続くなら [I wonder] if this will continue forever せめて今日の一度だけ At least if it's just this one time we have today it's also fine.

She has the first close-up in which she looks straight into the camera,

and she finishes her final dance moves, destroying the ship.

She stops dancing.

This is finally not a performance for the public. This is a confession for him.

As the performers and the audience try to escape from this sinking ship, she finally reveals the true intention that has been hidden behind her killings:

今日の夜はワタシにさせて Let me be by your side tonight. 今夜だけはワタシに守らせて Let me guard you tonight. 今日の夜が明けたころに When the night passes to dawn, (1) 待ち合わせね we shall meet again. 明日の夜も守れますように I hope I can protect you again tomorrow night.

こっちにきてもっと So come a bit closer to me

Notes:

The gifs both come from here. I base the translations on these three sites: (1), (2) and (3). Thank you, @yumeka-sxf, for helping with the translation.

Someone also uses glasses and a change of hairstyle as disguise:

The tiny soul and the scattered gold in the rap verse so obviously refers to Anya. The sparkling effect used in the MV could also be a nod to the special effect when Anya uses her mind-reading powers.

The sparkling effect appears right from the start, and becomes stronger as her conviction is strengthened.

@_mika60_ on twitter (well, x) has made a thread about other manga references used in the MV.

#spy x family #sxf #spyxfamily #loid forger #yor forger #agent twilight #thorn princess #twiyor #vaundy #Todome no Ichigeki #トドメの一撃 #cory wong #spy x family anime #masami nagasawa

[sequinsmile-x]

The Games We Play - Chapter 1

She’d survived the very worst a person could, lived through things that still kept her up at night, the screams of other innocent people ringing in her head as sleep evaded her.

She’d survived so much, but she didn’t think she’d survive leading him to his death. 

A Hunger Games AU

-x-

Hi friends,

Well here it is. The crowning jewel in my crown of insanity. The most unhinged AU I've ever come up with.

I had this idea months ago when watching The Hunger Games, another one of my hyperfixations, and I started teasing a few people saying I'd write a Hotchniss AU based on it. Then I started getting close to a couple of milestones on here...both hitting 2 million words of fanfic and 1,000 followers on tumblr. So I said I'd write this when I hit those milestones.

Both happened yesterday.

So, here we are. I really hope you enjoy this, I've worked really hard on the story and making it fit for our beloved CM characters as well as the setting of The Hunger Games.

The next chapter will be up in a few days. For now it is set as 4 chapters, it might turn into 5 if I get a little carried away.

As always, please let me know what you think!

-x-

Words: 2.5k

A full list of warnings can be found on the series master list

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“Emily, it’s almost time to go.” 

She sighs as her mother calls out for her and she closes her eyes, blowing out a shaky breath before she looks at herself in the mirror. She runs her fingers through her dark, perfectly curled hair, making sure it was lying over her shoulders. The dark green tea dress her mother had picked out for her came down to just above her knees, the colour of it complimenting her skin tone. It was velvet, soft and clearly expensive even just to look at, her appearance at odds with almost everyone else in her district. 

She looked every bit like the Victor she wished she wasn’t. 

It had been three years since she’d won. Since her name had been called out in the town square, the murmuring of her peers around her, whispers that ‘the mayor's daughter’ hadn’t even been safe fading out as she walked to the stage. In her worst moments, the timing of her mother’s reelection, something that looked unlikely at the time, and her reaping felt suspicious. The mayor’s daughter going into the games and becoming the first Victor for the district in a quarter of a century had won the election in a landslide. 

It wasn’t lost on Emily that even if she’d died in the arena her mother would have likely won again anyway.

She liked to think that her mother hadn’t put her life at risk for a small grab of power, that she hadn’t made some deal and bartered her 15-year-old daughter’s survival like a chip in a poker game, hoping no one saw her bluff. She liked to think that, but she knew enough about how it all worked, had seen enough in the Capitol since becoming a Victor to know that power was the most important currency in this country. Instead, Emily actively ignored the truth laid out in front of her, knowing that in order to maintain appearances she had no other choice.  

She’d won, but sometimes she wondered if she’d ever left the arena at all. 

She looks at herself in the mirror one last time, smoothing her hands down her dress, her palms lingering over where the large scar on her abdomen was, the injury that had almost killed her. It was unsightly, something that made her wince whenever she saw it, but she stood by her decision to not have the Capitol remove it. She wanted to remember every day what she’d survived.

“I’m ready.” 

The walk to the town square is familiar. She’s sure she could do it in her sleep, a death march she’d been part of her whole life, something she’d done long before she qualified for the games in the first place. She felt a sense of relief that her friends would age out this year, that this was the final time their names would be in the draw, their 18th birthdays always coming with a sigh of relief because it was the last time they’d stand there, their breath caught in their lungs as they waited to hear their name called out. 

It feels like a weight is lifted from her shoulders when she spots Dave the moment she steps into the town hall. He was her mentor and friend, the only other victor to ever come from their district.  The only other person who knew what it took from someone to win the games and come home alive. 

“Hey kid,” he says, pulling her into a hug, one she returns gratefully. She freezes when she hears a throat clear from behind her, her mother’s disapproval at the father figure in her life something she’d made clear. Emily smiles tightly at Dave as she pulls back from him, and she conceals a smile when he winks at her, “You ready?” 

She blows out a slow breath. None of this ever got any easier. Having to stand on stage in silence, a fake smile painted on her face, as more children were picked for a death they’d done nothing to deserve. The screams of the parents constantly echoed in her head, never quite going away. They always came back with a vengeance when the tributes died and she knew she was going home on an empty train, with no way she could possibly comfort anyone.

She’d become a cog in the machine that she hated, and she wasn’t sure how she’d ever escape. Her victory and her biggest crime both wrapped up in surviving, in pulling herself out of the pit she’d been thrown into when she was 15. 

“Yeah,” she breathes out, pressing her lips together as she lets her mask slip into place, “I’m ready.” 

___

He has to encourage this brother out of the house. 

His father was passed out drunk in the living room, and his mother was close to hysterical at the thought of Sean being old enough to go into the games now, a level of emotion Aaron didn’t ever remember her showing for him. 

He wraps his arm around Sean’s shoulders as they approach the town square, and he feels the 12-year-old tense, his body tight with a fear that Aaron remembered well. It was a feeling that oddly faded over the years, leaving him almost apathetic now, the reality that this was the final year he’d have to do this almost lost on him until his mother mentioned it in passing that morning. 

“It will be okay Sean,” Aaron says, stopping to look at his brother, a smile he hopes is reassuring on his face, “It’s your first year. People rarely get their name called on their first year.”

Sean nods and carries on walking towards the signing-in point, “Will Mom and Dad come?” 

Aaron sighs as he ruffles his younger brother's hair, “Mom probably will. Dad’s…resting after a long day at work yesterday.”

“I’m 12, not stupid Aaron,” he says, and they come to a stop again before they both join their respective lines, “You don’t have to protect me anymore,” he shrugs, a playful smile spreading across his face, “If the government think I’m old enough to die for entertainment, I’m old enough to know Dad is a piece of crap.” 

Aaron chuckles and shakes his head before he ruffles Sean’s hair again, wondering when his little brother had grown up, “Don’t talk like that.”

Sean shrugs him off, any remnants of nerves long gone, “See you after?” 

He nods, “See you after.” 

Aaron sighs as he signs in, not even flinching as they take a drop of blood to confirm his identity, and he then walks over to the holding pen for his year group. He pauses for a moment when he spots Haley, his smile tight as their eyes meet. They’d dated for the last couple of years but ended their relationship recently, a difference in opinion on what life would hold for them once they were free from this pulling them apart. She smiles back, offering him a small wave before she turns back to her friends, and he finds a place to stand. 

He looks up as the doors to the town hall open, the usual anthem playing out through crackly speakers set up around the square. His gaze is immediately fixed on Emily, her beauty as distracting as it always had been. 

He’d known her all his life. She was from the other side of town, but they’d always gone to school together. She was nice, and funny and beautiful, never using the fact she was the mayor’s daughter to try and gain favour or popularity. If anything, she seemed to butt against the privilege it would give her, constantly pushing boundaries. They were friends for most of their lives, and always spent as much time together as possible. He’d been in love with her, always convincing himself that one day they could be more than friends. 

Then she was reaped and everything changed. 

He’d watched the games closer than he ever had that year, looking out for her as much as possible, always feeling a strange sense of elation and fear the moment he saw her. When she won he was happy, delighted that she’d survived, that he wouldn’t have to imagine a life without her, but she came back different. Changed by the things she had seen and done in the games. 

She never returned to school, the life of a Victor seemingly a busy one, and her initial attempts at spending time with him faded away once he started to date Haley. Their friendship changed by circumstances beyond their control. He’d aged out of school just a few months ago and soon as he’d turned 18 he’d got a job alongside his father. 

Aaron missed Emily, even though she was right in front of him, and he wanted to fix things one day, to be whatever she needed.

She always looked like she needed a friend, her life as lonely as it was busy, her only real company these days found in David Rossi - the only other Victor from their district. 

Their eyes briefly meet, her’s flicking towards him, a brief smile flashing across her face before she continues to look forward, stoic and strong in a way she’d been since long before he stood hopelessly in this very spot when her name rang out around them.  

He’s drawn back into what’s going on around him, all the explanations for why this was happening, the price they were paying for a war fought and lost long before they were born. The enthusiasm with which the woman from the Capitol explained it all always got his shackles up, her brightly coloured clothes and hair as out of place as her zeal for selecting teenagers to send to their deaths. 

Emily had told him once, fresh back from the games, her clothes stuffed with padding to try and hide the weight she’d noticeably lost, that the woman’s name was Penelope. That she was actually nice, albeit misguided, and that she’d been one of the few people in the Capitol Emily had been able to get along with. 

“Ladies first,” Penelope says, reaching into the giant bowl, dipping her hand into the pile of slips of paper, a literal hand of fate dealt to someone standing in the crowd. She picks a slip and unfolds it, stepping back in front of the microphone, “Kate Joyner.” 

Aaron looks over at Kate and sees the momentary panic flash through her before she steps away from the crowd and walks over to the stage. She was 17 and in the year below at school, someone he’d always got along with any time that they interacted. He feels guilty for the flash of relief that rushes through him when he realises this means Haley was free, that she’d never be at risk of going through all of this again. Despite everything, he still loved her, had still imagined a future with her, and he was happy she’d get to have the life she deserved and wanted. 

He looks back at the stage and sees Emily reach out and touch Kate’s arm as she stands next to her, a brief thing he’s sure no one else would notice unless they were looking right at her. It’s a moment of comfort, something that he’s sure doesn’t even touch the surface of what Kate is feeling. But it’s something. A reminder she isn’t alone in this. 

At least, she wouldn’t be alone until the moment she stepped into the Arena. 

“And now for the gentlemen,” Penelope says, and Aaron feels his breath catch in his chest, the few moments it takes her to pick a name seem to last a lifetime, everything drawn out into slow motion, even the breeze in Emily’s hair, loose strands moving in the wind with more freedom than any of them had ever had. Penelope picks up one of the slips of paper and unfolds it, “Sean Hotchner.” 

It takes a moment for Aaron’s brain to catch up, for him to realise what’s happened. He snaps his head to where his brother is standing. He can see from where he is that Sean is panicking, that tears are flooding his eyes as his peers step backwards from him, making it clear to everyone exactly who he is. It seemed unfair, cruel that his brother had been picked on his first ever time when this was Aaron’s sixth time going through this process. 

Aaron doesn’t think about it, his body moving on autopilot, his desire to spare his brother from this, to save him in a way he hadn’t been to save him from their father, driving him forward. He’s standing on the path leading to the stage before Sean can even start to walk towards it, and he sucks in a deep breath, before he says two words that he’s sure all but sign his death warrant. 

“I volunteer.” 

___

She freezes as she watches him walk out from where he was standing. She already knew what was about to happen. He was brave to a fault, foolhardy with his own safety, and he loved his brother. He held everyone he cared about in higher esteem than himself. His almost subconscious desire to protect everyone around him even to his own detriment something she’d known about since they were small children. 

He’d once taken the blame for damaging a vase in her mother’s house that she’d broken, claiming it was his fault that it had fallen from the table it had been sitting on even though it was her who had knocked it over. He’d teased her about it for years, and winked as he told her that owed him one.

Emily can’t help but stare as he walks up the stairs to the stage and stands next to Penelope.

“A volunteer, how exciting,” Penelope says, her exuberance something Emily cannot find comfort in for once, “What’s your name?” 

“Aaron…” he says, clearing his throat, “Aaron Hotchner.” 

His name rings out around the town square, a death rattle he was ringing himself. One that had led so many to their demise before him. The last few years it had happened under her watch, and it takes everything in her not to gasp, to continue to play the part of the victor she’d been for three years now. 

She’d survived the very worst a person could, lived through things that still kept her up at night, the screams of other innocent people ringing in her head as sleep evaded her. She’d survived so much, but she didn’t think she’d survive leading him to his death. 

Not when she’d been in love with him for as long as she could remember. 

-x-

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