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lessthandivine · 3 years

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promise that I’ll meet you halfway | lm x r

pairing: lou miller x you

warnings: light angst, swearing, tsundere!reader, shameless theft (obviously,) suggestive dialogue, stubborn idiots, no beta we die like men

word count: 4672

based on a writing prompt: look, we could keep pretending you hate me, or you could kiss me.

summary: having joined the team at debbie’s request, you do recon for the marauding eight. it’s all smooth sailing, save for a certain blonde that distracts you to no end. swords clang, but you realize where you stand, just in time.

Lou.

Even thinking about her made it hard to breathe, and you swallowed, shaking yourself. Every time she looked at you, with that narrow, cocky gaze, you just couldn’t stand how annoyingly attractive it was. How ridiculously hot it was when her eyes tracked down your body every so often. How infuriatingly smooth and low her voice was when she praised your plans and diagrams, mentioned how important the pages upon pages of valuable information you’d painstakingly collected were. All of that, on top of her irritatingly charming smile and exasperatingly endearing kindness, wit, courage, and intelligence.

You couldn’t stand it.

Shutting the door quietly behind you, you sighed as you took off your coat, shaking your hair out from it’s bun. The loft was quiet, empty, and the clatter of your boots, untied, of course, echoed through the space when they hit the floor. Hanging your coat on the peg, you rubbed your tense neck and rolled your wrists. Walking slowly to the sitting area, you wondered if there was anything stronger than a beer in the kitchen—you could feel the tension in your shoulders, sore muscles and sore joints. Side effect of the occupation, you thought wryly. Recon involved a lot of things, one of which was staying in one place. Small spaces, often. For long periods of time. You were too young to have joints that hurt. No stranger to stress, it didn’t faze you, but none of that made it easier.

You paced a little, fingernails scratching the pad of your thumb, a nervous habit from university. Today, you’d scouted out several locations, none of them leaving much room for comfort. Work always pulled you in several different, sometimes dangerous, directions. Collecting intel, too, involved mind games. You also had to go see a potential ‘client,’ to try and wriggle some information out of. He was the usual sleazy type, of course, and you had to resist the urge to break his nose when he leaned in close and put a hand on your knee, instead carefully plastering on a cloying smile. And while that was your specialty, it was hard. You didn’t like to admit it—everyone played their role in the heist, and you knew you were a key part, but damn if it didn’t take a lot out of you.

You had a reputation to uphold, and this new project at the Met just had so much on the line, you knew you had to do the best you could. And more. Even after the whole affair, while everyone was celebrating, you took the time to scope out a few places that the team had mentioned they might hit next. Your teammates were all so confident and experienced, while you were relatively new in the field, only working on the side or behind the scenes. Especially Debbie, who’d been in this for years, and her right hand woman, Lou.

Lou.

You couldn’t stand it.

It also made the heist planning much more difficult than it already was. You thought it would be better after the team successfully pulled the whole plan off, but even now when it was all over, those stupid feelings were still there. It pissed you off just thinking about it. The weird, irksome fluttering in your stomach, the kind that made you feel simultaneously sick and elated, never failed to come around when Lou was there. It was impossible, really, to handle. Whatever it was, you weren’t familiar with it, and you absolutely hated not knowing.

And it was horrible, worsened tenfold by the fact that you couldn’t even talk to her normally. Work, though difficult, was made easier by the fact that you, her, and the whole team had something to focus on. That forced you to calm down and function properly, for the group dynamic. But anything else, anything personal, almost always resulted in a row, or at least a snarky, unnecessary comment. You always had some sort of sarcastic remark, and Lou, being Lou, always had one in return. It was never so explosive that it would break the team apart, but it definitely made everyone look twice.

You forced yourself to relax as you heard someone coming down the stairs. You’d thought you were alone, the rest of the team out at some sort of… mini golf drinking game course? But you turned from where you’d been pacing a path in Lou’s living room floor to see Debbie.

You smiled instinctively, something tight and too at ease to be real. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself, kiddo,” Debbie called back, slumping down onto the couch. “You okay?” You and Debbie had been acquaintances for a while before she called you to work on this, knowing you were the best person for the job. She’d helped you out of a tight spot more than a few times, so you trusted her. It only made sense that she could read you, could see the nervous tick in your jaw.

You shrugged. “I’m fine,” you said, a little more roughly than you needed to.

“I believe you, sweetie,” she said soothingly, knowing you didn’t mean it. You looked at her, an apology on the tip of your tongue, but she just smiled and you knew she knew.

The loft door opened, a familiar stomping on the wooden floors making you sigh. Even without looking, you knew that Lou was back, pulling off her boots and throwing them aside. Without undoing the laces. Didn’t she realize how easily she could fall like that, and break her arm or something?

Debbie bit back a smile. You really had no idea how similar the two of you sounded, coming in the loft in your boots. When you came in together, it was nearly impossible to tell which one of you was which until one of you complained about the other’s coat on the hanger, or something equally inconsequential. And she knew, by virtue of having been around the two of you separately for various amounts of time in past years, that neither of you would bother to untie the laces putting them on, or taking them off.

Soon enough, Lou came strutting in like she owned the place (which she did, you granted) in her damned black leather jacket, black leather pants, pulling her bike helmet off her head. It left her hair tousled, and as she dragged the back of her hand across her forehead, a bit of bike grease smeared.

She should’ve kept the helmet on, you thought dumbly, as your eyes lingered around the smoky black that made her slate blue irises seem to glow, the smirk she always wore, the few strands of hair plastered to her face, and you couldn’t help but keep watching as she shucked off her jacket, revealing a customary button down (in zaffre, today.) Was it impossible for her to wear a shirt like that without having half the buttons undone? It looked stupidly good, and you forced yourself to resume your pacing after giving Lou a nod.

Lou glanced at you, and then at Debbie, who shrugged. She dumped her helmet on the table by the couch, and you turned at the noise, inwardly sighing. As Debbie asked Lou if Tammy and the others were still at the course (they were,) you crept quietly around her, picking up her helmet carefully from the side table. You were halfway to the foyer, where things like this were supposed to be, when a shuffle made you pause.

“Can you not move that all the time? I put it there for a reason.” Lou’s voice, definitely annoyed, carried through the loft. Behind her, where you couldn’t see, Debbie shot her a careful look, which Lou ignored. You hated it when she put her helmet there, because there was always other stuff that needed to be there, and she knew it. And you knew she knew, so why didn’t she just keep it somewhere else? There was plenty of space, and it would be easier for everyone. You were silent as you could hear her footsteps coming up behind you, stopping a good distance away.

“I wouldn’t have to, if you didn’t leave it in random places all the time,” you finally said, needlessly curt. You knew you sounded childish, but it was easier than turning around and coming up with a response where you’d have to look her in the eye. You knew that those strange feelings in your chest would come back, the ones that surfaced whenever you were around Lou. She stared at you for a moment—you could feel it burning into your back—then scoffed.

“Nobody asked you to clean up after me,” she replied, just as caustic. You were about to retort, but you paused, choosing to set the helmet down on the shoe bench.

From her vantage spot on the sofa, eyes flickering between the two of you, Debbie sighed. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “You two fight over everything, even the most stupid things. Just quit it already.”

You didn’t say anything, ducking your head. Guilt swelled up in you, over disrupting the dynamic, over doing something you didn’t need to do and saying things you didn’t need to say, over how you just couldn’t get your head straight. You couldn’t bother to apologize as you hurriedly slinked away to the kitchen, missing Lou looking over at you, confusion masking the hurt in the furrow of her eyebrows.

You might’ve missed the look, but Debbie didn’t, leveling Lou with a deadpan expression, unimpressed.

“You two,” Debbie started, but Lou cut her off.

“Shut it, Ocean, I already know what you’re about to say.”

Debbie continued quietly, ignoring Lou’s protest. “You two dance around each other in the worst way. She hurts you because she doesn’t know how to recognize her feelings, and you hurt her because you’re too stubborn to make the first move.”

Lou glared at Debbie, hating that her best friend was so perceptive, and hating that she was right.

Debbie sighed, waving Lou off. “Whatever. she’s young, maybe this is the new mating dance.” Lou laughed dryly, crossing her arms. “Anyway, do something, or not, soon. There’s a betting pool, and I can’t lose to Constance. Again.” With that, Debbie stood and walked out. Lou stared at the spot where she’d been, hearing the loft door open and close. There’s a what? On us?

Lou ran a hand carelessly through her already messy hair, groaning. Contrary to what you probably thought, she’d seen the tension in your too-straight back, and she inferred that the day’s missions must’ve been stressful. She knew where you’d gone when you left all those celebration parties early. Why did you always have to work so damn hard all the time, running yourself into the ground? Didn’t you know how to take a break and relax? You worked just as hard as everyone else, sometimes harder, but Lou knew that because you were younger than most of the team, you felt the need to make up for it. How stupid, she thought. Your work was impressive as it was, were you really so blind as to overlook how important you were to the team?

Lou tried to avoid thinking about how important you were to her, a familiar frustration already coming to her mind. The two of you traded barbs, always, but sometimes, it made her wonder. It made her wonder something she wasn’t willing to think about, not right now.

You weren’t often seriously moody like this—though you were stressed half the time, you really were a fun person to be around. You were incredibly witty and charming, even (especially) when you were shooting some annoyed comment in Lou’s direction. She’d send one back, and you’d parry, just as quick and dry. She enjoyed it, almost too much, because she’d never met anyone quite on par with her, for verbal sparring. Until you.

Until you. That summed up everything, didn’t it? All the girls that came before, Lou had never really felt anything for them. She thought she did, but it all went out either with a bang or a whimper. Until Debbie brought you in one day, in the early stages of the Met heist, and you had so much information, detailed insider plans, and a brilliant mind to match. Plus, you’d looked something incredible in your Tom Ford sunglasses, thick Armani cable knit turtleneck, Brioni jacket, Gucci wool coat (‘it’s rather grand, though, isn’t it?’ you’d replied when she’d playfully commented on how tacky Gucci could be,) elegant Cartier watch, crisply pleated Savile Row (Richard Anderson) trousers, shiny Jimmy Choo oxfords, and Target socks. It all totaled, easily, up to twenty. Twenty thousand, Lou had figured. Euros. There were no logos, but she could just tell, from experience. The fact that you hadn’t paid for a single item made it all the more attractive. How she could still remember all that, and the way you’d gestured, the passion of the work really setting into you, was remarkable.

As the plans and projects continued, you’d always been there for the rest of the team with easy advice, and you were never at a loss for what to say that would make everyone laugh. At first, Lou had a hard time with it. Having real feelings for someone was scary, everyone knew that. Especially you. But the sweet sense of inevitability with which she was drawn deeper and deeper into you? That was something she couldn’t ignore, instinct told her. She’d looked upon your bickering with a sort of fondness, that went with how she felt about the rest of you.

Maybe. Just maybe, Debbie was right. Lou was fairly sure that you were attracted to her, that much was evident in the way your eyes lingered on her. It was a familiar thing for Lou, but when it came to you, your attention made her skin flush and her blood thrum. She’s Lou Miller, for goodness’ sake, She could get a girl (or two) easily. But you? You were something else entirely. And Lou Miller was never one to miss a chance.

The loft was empty now, except for you and Lou. You’d heard Debbie leave from where you’d escaped into the kitchen, pouring yourself a stress maté. You just needed a moment to calm your nerves, then you could hopefully make yet another escape upstairs, to go mope under the guise of working on plans. Sighing, you sat down at the table, wondering if ‘destressing’ was even possible, at this point.

Without her boots or heels on, Lou really was as silent as a cat, and you nearly jumped when you looked up from your tea and she’d materialized in the doorway.

“Jesus, Lou,” you said dryly. “Do you always tip toe around like this?”

Lou sighed, unknowingly imitating you, carefully watching you at the table with one of your stupid tea drinks in front of you. There were shadows under your eyes, and your shirt collar (Louis Vuitton, today) wasn’t as neatly tucked as it usually was, and your lips were set in a thin line.

“A good evening to you too.” You nodded at her greeting, casting a furtive glance at her. Moments of silence passed, where she stared at you and you alternated between looking at her, and looking away. God, did she really have to wear that eyeliner she always wore, the one that made her grey eyes look all sultry and alluring? It was just stupid, you decided.

“We fight all the time,” Lou started, blatantly ignoring your scoff. “Don’t you think it’s messing with the team?”

You shrugged, replying without thinking. “Does it really matter?” Even Lou was a bit taken aback at your blasé answer. You were nothing if not intensely meticulous and almost foolishly dedicated to the work they did, but she could tell you immediately regretted your words.

She walked over to stand opposite you, in front of the counter. “I know you don’t mean that.” The words came out sharper than she meant for them to be, and your returning gaze was almost doleful.

“You don’t know a thing about me.” At the sudden, hastily suppressed flinch from Lou, you cringed, biting your lip. She did know you. She hadn’t come to pick you up from one of your scouting locations, in the dead of night, long after you were supposed to come back, because she was bored. Even if she did, almost physically, drag you from your spot, silently kicking and screaming, and even if you complained about it the whole way back, you appreciated it. Sometimes, only Lou, not even Debbie, could tell how tired you were, and sent someone else to go with you to collect intel, to take the pressure off. You regretted your slip, more than you’d regretted your former feigned carelessness, because it just wasn’t true.

“Don’t I? You don’t even know yourself.” You deserved that, you knew.

“Watch it, Miller.” But you said it without malice, in a borderline teasing way. You’d both overstepped, but something in the air wasn’t awkward, or uncomfortable, it was just there. Barely normal.

“We fight all the time,” Lou said again, quietly. “But you don’t really hate me, do you?”

At her question, you looked up, startled. You gazed right at her, tired and sad in the slump of her shoulders, leaning against the counter, in the way she looked at her feet instead of at you. The sight sent an oddly unpleasant shiver through you, and your heart twisted with guilt. Of all things, you weren’t expecting that, at all. Surely, Lou knew that you respected her, right? That even though your conversations weren’t always the best, you admired her hard working manner, her advice, and her input.

But that’s not what she asked, is it? Your rough words sent all the wrong messages, you knew, but she’d never let it affect her. Or at least, she hadn’t let it show. Had it hurt her this entire time?

“I—“ you swallowed, licking your dry lips. “I don’t hate you. at all.” Quite the opposite, in fact. The thought made you pause. You didn’t want Lou to think that you hated her, because it wasn’t true at all. You really, really wanted her close, closer than you’d ever wanted anyone, and it terrified you. You didn't hate her at all. You just didn’t know how to deal with just how much you liked her, how much of a place she had in your heart and mind. How much you had grown used to Lou’s presence, Lou’s easy, witty dialogue, even when bickering with you. Lou. That, all of those annoying, little, petty fights, what you were used to, it was the easiest way for you to just talk to her. To ignore what you really wanted with her. That was all so much simpler than confronting the yawning void in your chest that you knew would gape open if she somehow wasn’t in your life anymore.

“Then why do you—“ Lou’s voice caught in her throat, and you couldn’t stand the, for once, openly conflicted look on her face. You looked away, guilt clouding your eyes.

“Lou, I don’t hate you, I just—“ you stopped, your own voice failing you. I just need you, more than I’ve ever needed anyone, and it terrifies me to no end, that I could take the chance and fail, and break us, and I—

“You just what?” You didn’t miss the defensive, almost… hurt? tone her voice had taken.

“Fuck.” Even without looking at her, the shame creeped into your stomach, twisting and winding. “I never know how to talk to you.” Had you caused that, all because you didn’t know how to confront the way you felt?

“You don’t know how to talk—“ Lou scoffed, crossing her arms. “That’s rich. You? Don’t know how to talk… you’re one of the most well spoken, eloquent people I’ve ever met. Quit the excuses, doll.”

Even now, the feelings returned to your chest, both at her acknowledgement and that dumb term of endearment, the one that lodged itself firmly in your memory. Does she really think that?

“To you,” you said softly.

You looked back up at Lou, not bothering to hide the look in your eyes. Her own face was uncharacteristically vulnerable, making her seem young and afraid. She met your gaze, and the feelings, already rising from her just being there, suddenly shot up, especially when she let her eyes flicker down to your lips.

Lou came over to you abruptly and leaned across the table, propping herself up with a hand dangerously close to yours. You felt your heart jump as she locked gazes with you, as if looking for something, but you didn’t dare move. Her searching scrutiny was intimate, welcome, even, because you could feel yourself on the edge of something bigger than just you.

“Look...” Lou said lowly, eyes stormy but clearing by the second. “We could keep pretending you hate me, or you could kiss me.”

You could only look up at her, back into those turbulent grey eyes, startlingly close. Your mouth parted in surprise. And god, you could see everything swimming in those eyes, anger, anxiety, frustration, hope... fear. Everything inside of you toppled over, and you made up your mind. You just needed a little push.

She straightened up and turned away without a word, jaw tightening. You knew you’d waited more than you should’ve, but it wasn’t too late. You stood to move to the other side of the table, and before Lou could register what you were about to do, you grasped her wrist, gently, spinning her around into your arms. She gasped, hand coming up to rest on your waist, steadying herself. You wrapped your arms around her shoulders, eyes fluttering shut—you two had never been this intoxicatingly close, only pressed shoulder to shoulder when working on plans. This was something else entirely, as Lou was so warm, so close, that you could even see where her mascara had left little sooty smudges on her cheeks. You thought to yourself, god, I hope I haven’t gotten this all wrong. The next instant, you brushed your noses together, feeling your own breath come out in a shudder as your lips brushed hers, ever so slightly. Lou’s arm tightened around your waist, the other rushing to cup the back of your neck possessively. Tilting your head away, you let yourself pause, eyes still closed, breathing tremulously with all the hope, devotion, and understanding you held in your arms.

“Tell me to stop.” Your voice was strangely quiet in the thrumming air, and almost immediately, she pulled you in so her hips pressed against yours, breath coming out in hungry pants.

“Don’t.” Lou’s answer snapped something in you, and you lurched forward, sending your weight into hers, lips flush. Tangling your hands in her hair, you couldn’t resist, all slow and soft and fast and hard. She moaned into your mouth at the tension, and everything you’d tried to push away, lock away when you were with her rushed to the surface like tears in glossy eyes. And you let it, you let it rise into the air, into your chest, into the fingertips that caressed her scalp. And Lou, in turn, felt you against her, hot, heady, and held you as close as she dared, then a little closer, because you were always more, always lovingly, gorgeously more.

You could taste the coffee and cigarettes on her, and it felt so much like the right place to be that you smiled, a happy, effervescent hum bubbling up in you. You two broke apart, breathing hard, and you bit your lip, grinning so wide that your cheeks hurt. Lou raised an eyebrow at your expression, resisting the quirk that pulled at the corners of her kiss swollen lips.

“What’s so funny?”

Her demand sent a flush through you, and you just laughed again, pulling her in again for another kiss, chaste and playful this time.

“Me.” You gazed easily up at her amused face. “I was so stupid. I spend so long thinking about how I felt in my own head when I could’ve just thought about you, how you felt, and that would’ve given me an answer better than anything I could’ve come up with.”

Lou’s eyes softened, and it was her turn to press her lips to yours, gentle and giving, so unlike the bruising urgency of before. But no less welcome. “It doesn’t matter how you got there, what matters is that we’re here now.”

You nodded, tucking your face into the crook of her neck. You were a little shorter than her, so this was easy for you, and you felt her cheek against your hair.

“God, I—” you swallowed, inhaling deeply. She smelled like her bike, something clean and warm at the same time, and strangely enough, tequila, though you hadn’t tasted any of it. “I’m really sorry, Lou, I shouldn’t have handled… all of this… like I did.” You worried your lip between your teeth. “It hurt the both of us, it hurt you…”

Lou chuckled, thumb tracing circles just under your earlobe. Dropping a hand from your waist to find yours, she pressed your knuckles to her forehead, her cheek, her lips. “Darling, I said it doesn’t matter, didn’t I?”

I don’t deserve your forgiveness. Sighing, you pulled back, looking into her easy smile, her bright eyes, and you cupped her face to kiss her. You tried to put all you didn’t know how to say into it, and she seemed to understand, groaning softly into your mouth.

“Did you have fun at the course?” You asked quietly, pulling away.

“It was alright,” she replied noncommittally, swaying a little with you in her arms. “I’m sure they’re all drunk as all hell right now.”

“Oh, yeah,” you said, surprised. “You didn’t drink?”

“Nope.” she shrugged. “I wanted to talk to you.”

You were about to reply, a smile playing itself on your lips, when the loft door flew open. Voices filled the loft, a few tipsy shouts accompanied the clatter which you knew was the coat stand tipping over. You felt Lou tense a little up a little beside you, but you didn’t bother to move from your sanctuary in her arms. She relaxed again, also not bothering to separate herself from you.

Debbie walked in with the group, reaching the kitchen first. Upon spotting the two of you, arms wrapped around each other, she broke out into a wide grin.

“Constance, you owe me five!” She yelled, turning back to you. I’m happy for you, she mouthed in your direction, and you just smiled, leaning your head on Lou’s shoulder.

“Seriously?” You could hear Constance stumble her way to Debbie, a flush on her cheeks. She groaned, slapping a hand to her forehead. “Come on!”

“Five thousand, hand it over.” You giggled at Debbie’s smug expression, and without looking, you knew that Lou was amused too, eyes sparkling with mirth. “I knew it.”

“Wait. you knew? You fixed it, you fixed the bet!” Debbie dragged the protesting Constance away, sending a wink in your direction. The rest of them had made it over to the kitchen by now, Tammy rolling her eyes with a ‘jeez, about time,’ and Rose giving a shriek as she spotted you.

“Lou’s got herself a girl,” she sang, Aminta joining in. Daphne and Nineball sported twin smirks as they passed by, giving you a little salute.

“Come on,” Lou whispered in your ear, making you shiver. “Let’s go out.” You felt her arm tighten around your waist, leading you towards the door. Passing by the group, you chuckled at their cheers, shaking your head when Lou leveled a mock glare at them. Feeling the warmth bubbling in your chest chasing away the guilt of the past months, you reached for her hand and interlaced her fingers with yours.

a/n: title from ben platt’s ‘honest man.’ hope you enjoyed! comments, reblogs, asks, etc. are always welcome :)

let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist!

all works are crossposted on my my ao3

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, or take from my work in any way without express permission. thank you!

#fanfiction #ocean's 8 #oceans 8 #oceans8 #lou miller #lou miller fanfiction #lou miller x reader #lou x reader #cate blanchett #debbie ocean #rose weil #daphne kluger #wlw #fluff #angst #wlw fanfiction #lgbtq

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skullphones · 3 years

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Sibling, cousin, and sibling-like headcanons nobody asked for (I’ll include emperor and prince to this list but other than them, the rest of these are purely my own headcanons) extra note: I’m aware the blaster bros exist but I just. don’t have headcanons for them. sorry tammy.

Goggles and Bobble. This is already a pretty popular headcanon, and while I think all of blue team has family dynamics to some extent, these two exude the most sibling like energy. They’re both chaotic as fuck and get into hijinks together. Even though Goggles is the one who tends to get into trouble most of the time, Bobble is always going along with his shenanigans and enables them without question.

Army and W-Sailor. This is mostly taken from a friend, but it is pretty funny to think about the strict older brother and (slightly spoiled) younger sister dynamic. White takes turfing the least seriously in the team, and always gets forced to shape up thanks to Army. Meanwhile she also messes with Army a whole lot, such as disorganizing his stuff to leave him confused, or swapping salt with sugar to make his curry taste sweet.

Forge and B-Sailor. Taken from the same friend as the previous hc. I just really enjoy the idea of two sibling pairs in a team together, though they get along a lot better compared to Army and White. Not really a lot to say except Blue is a lot more laidback and tries to calm Forge down whenever she stresses out too much over something.

Scuba and Octoglasses. Taken from a different friend (yes a lot of these are adopted headcanons). This one actually also involves my OTHER friend’s “Callie is their older sister” headcanon, and as such they’re part cuttlefish, and have those crosshatched eyes. They’re identical twin siblings, with Scuba being trans. They make fun of each other a LOT and it’s endless teasing and taunting and pranks. They do get into arguments sometimes but for the most part they’ll make up pretty quickly.

Mask and Moon. Moon teases Mask a lot but half the time he’s too tired to come up with a witty remark and just gives a “fuck you” in response. Mask honestly isn't a very open person even to Moon, but she’s at least very good at reading him to check if something is bothering him or not. All in all they get along decently well, even if Moon threatens to curse him a lot.

Skull and Paisley (thanks Peri). Again, this leans very VERY heavily into headcanon territory. My interpretation of Pais is very childish and playful, which is somewhat contrasting to Skull’s quiet personality. Skull rarely brings up the fact they’re related—not due to anything personal, but because he just doesn’t think it’s very important. Skull doesn’t really talk to her much apart from turfing strats, and they never really have bonding moments unless Pais specifically asks him to hang out with her, so they’re slightly distant, though them being on the same team has made both more aware of each others personal lives (such as Paisley and Stitch dating).

Gloves and Clip-ons. They’re cousins rather than siblings, but they’re still close and always messing with each other. Even if the teasing is endless, they both agree pulling pranks together is much better than pulling pranks on each other. Rims is the unlucky inkling that gets on the receiving end of most of these.

Emperor and Prince. I don’t think they were that close when Emp was still on the team, but I like to think he tries to connect with Prince once he returns from training. Monarch team will constantly go to the Crust Bucket to pay Emp a visit after battles, and he’s happy to see Prince grow as a leader each time he has a new tale about their most recent battle.

Vintage and Omega. This one’s reason is extremely obvious, just look at them. They both never really had friends growing up, so they always only had each other to talk to. As a result they’re very close and open with each other.

Fierce, Jet, and Justice. Fierce and Jet are biological siblings, while Justice is their adoptive sib. Justice’s actual parents live in the same village as Fierce and Jet’s, but ever since he was assigned to be a Guardian he’s lived on their farm for convenience sake. They each have different roles in helping out in the farm, with Fierce doing the more physically taxing work like chopping wood, Jet taking care of the chickens, and Justice harvesting fruit and veggies.

Fierce is the oldest, so he’s the one who gets to visit Inkopolis the most, though the other two beg him to take them along with him a lot. They also aren’t very “trendy” per se, but rather stick to their own aesthetic, which is why Fierce refuses to wear shoes and Justice doesn’t like taking his helmet off.

Anyway that’s all I have so far, I can explain a bit more for specific ones if you guys want me to, and if you have your own hcs I don't mind hearing them!

#coroika #splatoon #splatoon 2 #splatoon manga #headcanons #also what I mean for blue team is that they really just seem like one giant family to me #more of in a found family way if you get me

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for-emilia · 3 years

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Catch Me.

Football was finished for the christmas period. Neither of the pair had any plans over christmas, only to spend the time with each other and relax. The house was quiet as both dogs slept and the couple lay on the sofa, scrolling through their phones aimlessly.

“Let’s go and play footie,” Emilia spoke out into the quiet room, lowering her phone and pushing her foot into Fikayo’s face to get his attention.

“One a side?” Fik laughed, locking his phone and putting it down on his chest, kissing the side of Emilia’s socked foot then scrunching his nose up, wondering why he just did that.

“No, two a side,” she nodded her head over to the two drooling pups on front of the fire, Bronx laying on his side, head rested on Fik’s discarded hoodie, Camo laying on his front, no doubt dribbling in his sleep.

“Me and you vs the boys? Or me and Bronxy vs you and dribbler?” Fikayo laughed, smiling as Bronx pricked his ears up at the sound of his name.

“Me and Mr dribbler, he don’t just dribble on himself you know, gonna dribble around you and chunk,” Emilia retaliated, sitting up and looking out the big bifold doors to her left. It was cold, the Late December weather casting a layer of frost over the grass, making it sparkle in the low sunlight.

“Come on then,” Fik squeezed her knee, looking over at her and smiling before calling out for the dogs, “Oi, Bronxyyy, Camo, you wanna go to the field?”

Both of them immediately jumped up, prompting their parents to do the same thing, making their way upstairs to put more layers on. Fikayo replaced his thin shorts with some thicker joggers and a quarter zip that they used in Chelsea training, his initials and number on one side of his chest and the club logo on the other side. Emilia pulled on some yoga pants she knew Fik would like, a sports bra, and one of Fik’s smaller hoodies, not wanting to be dragged down by it being too oversized.

They met back at the door, where Fik was already standing with the boys, collared and leashed up ready to walk the short distance to the field before they could run free. As soon as he saw her emerge down the stairs, Camo ran over to Emilia, waiting patiently as she put her trainers on, knowing she’d pick up his lead sooner or later so they could leave.

“Oh lord, can you calm down?” Emilia let out a loud belly laugh, seeing Fik in his professional Chelsea training gear and holding his football boots in the hand that wasn’t holding Bronx’s lead, “the gaffer ain’t gonna be there you know.”

“Pfft, you thought I was gonna take this lightly?” Fik scoffed, lowering his eyebrows and scrunching up his nose, “you invited the wrong lad for a kick about.”

“You right, you right, lemme call Tammy real quick,” Emilia played along, reaching to pull her phone out of her hoodie pocket just to wind him up.

“Get out,” Fikayo opened the door and pushed her out into the cold, smacking her arse and looking down to watch it, “mm where’d you get these?”

Emilia smirked to herself, knowing her prediction was right and she knew her man too well.

“That’s not very professional, is it?” she played along to him taking this casual kick around seriously, “don’t think that’s how you should be representing the badge.”

“Oh, did you not know?” he spoke out seriously as he finished locking the door, “that’s part of training now before we start.”

“Shut up,” she rolled her eyes and began walking, looking down at Camo happily plodding along beside her.

“Your bum’s nicer to smack than Mason’s though,” he laughed at his own joke, emphasising his point with another spank to her arse, leaving his hand there for a little bit as they walked, “you should come to training in the new year.”

“Yeah, I will,” she smiled, stopping for a moment to let Camo do his business.

“Oi, let's beat mama and Mo,” Fikayo whisper-shouted to the rottweiler, setting off immediately running down the street alongside the dog, leaving Emilia and Camo in their wake.

“Dickheads,” Emilia said to the slightly smaller of the two dogs, “come on.”

They finally arrived at the field, first letting the two dogs off the leads so they could run around and play together. Luckily, the field was empty, allowing them to do whatever they wanted, just them four and the ball Fikayo had kicked the whole way there.

“Come catch me,” the second he’d dumped the dog’s stuff and their other belongings by one goal post, he set off with the ball at his feet, speeding across the field away from Emilia’s whines of protest.

“Fik!” she giggled then began running as fast as she could, he might be absolutely rapid, but there was no way she was going to let him win, no matter how she had to do it.

Fikayo ran in circles, up and down the wing, pulling stupid little tricks he knew would wind Emilia up even more, until he got knocked off his feet. It was somewhat dangerous and she probably shouldn’t have done it but he should’ve known to not challenge her.

She jumped in two footed, almost winding herself and Fikayo but she didn’t care, the ball was now hers and she wouldn’t let him forget.

Her shrill laugh echoed around the vast, empty field as she scurried off with the football and sounds of Fikayo’s complaints mixing with her own victories.

“Come and get me now, in your little professional gear,” she laughed as she imitated his stupid cocky tricks, somehow managing to pull them off just as well, “if only the lads could see you now.”

Fik took it upon himself to let her tire herself out, doing stupid runs and trying to torment their babies with the football while he set up his phone on the goal post on the opposite side of the field to their belongings and where she was. He opened up the camera app and knelt down to press record, checking it was going before dashing down the field.

You could immediately hear her screams as Fik chased her, sporadic movements trying to set her off balance and make her lose possession. They continued like this for a few minutes, Fikayo regaining possession but Emilia always kicking the ball from under his feet somehow. That was all until Bronx had enough of his parents acting like children, coming from supposedly nowhere and tackling the ball from between both of them, his large body and strength blocking them both from stealing it back off him.

“Oi! That was your fault! Don’t let your son steal it!” Emilia laughed, hitting Fikayo on the chest and pointing at where Bronx and Camo were now imitating their parents, running around like loons trying to get the ball from each other.

“What do you mean?! I’m the soft one with him, you’re meant to be the one to be harsh and tell him off!” Fik retaliated, pushing her away but keeping a hold of her wrist so she got pulled back in and confused slightly.

“Well go and get it then, or you know what Camo’s like, he’ll chew it up,” Emilia mused, looking at Fik expectantly knowing he’d have more of a chance of receiving the ball than she would.

He sighed and began to calmly walk towards them, knowing they’d just set off in the other direction if he ran. Suddenly, he was nearly falling to the ground. An unexpected weight on his back almost knocking him off kilter before he realised it was his girlfriend, clinging to him like a backpack.

“Take me with youuuu,” she laughed quietly in his ear as he jumped her up, settling her more comfortably on his hips, “I’ll get lonely.”

He laughed and wiggled where he stood, trying to shake her off as a joke before grabbing a tight hold of her legs and running as fast as he could in between the two dogs with Emilia on his back.

“No! Fik! You can’t run!” she squealed, realising extremely quickly this was a bad idea, not knowing what came over her as she didn’t like being picked up in the first place, “babe you’re gonna drop me!”

Her words got more high pitched as she spoke, tightening her grip as much as she could around his shoulders and laughing, half out of sheer terror and half out of fun. Impressively, Fik managed to steal the ball back, booting it up the opposite end of the pitch away from the two dogs as they were now interested in Emilia’s dangling legs and Fik faffing about in between them.

“I’m gonna have to put you down into the sharks,” Fik joked, wanting rather to put her down than risk dropping her and injuring her or one of the dogs.

He tried to gently put her down in between them both, but with the bustling dogs and the short warning, she ended up on her bum.

“Fikayo!” she scolded him in his full name, cursing as he cackled at the sight of her sitting on the muddy ground with him standing over her. And like fuck was she having that.

Emilia grabbed his arm and behind the knee at the same time, pulling him to the floor where she was lying, trying to not get crushed as he fell like dead wood.

“Baby!” he screamed, trying to quickly alter his reflexes and land next to his girlfriend not on top of her, only having a split second to shift his weight so landing half on top of her.

“I’m gonna kill you,” he laughed, moving to have one palm on the floor on each side of her head, suspending himself inches away from her face in a plank over her, “you cheated.”

“Agh shit, did Tammy tell you? Fuck, it’s not what it seems, I can explain,” she made a joke out of him calling her a cheater, twisting his words and thinking she was the funniest person in the world.

“Shut the fuck up,” Fik whispered with a smirk painted across his face trying not to laugh, knowing she was more than close enough to hear him.

The dogs had ran off, not interested in the pair anymore, probably chewing up the football but neither of them particularly cared anymore since there were a million more back at the house.

“I could fuck you here and nobody would know,” Fik whispered again against her lips, half forgetting about the running video and half not hating the idea of turning it into something else. The camera obviously couldn’t hear any of what was being said

“Aye that’s until a random neighbour comes out the bushes and reports us,” Emilia scrunched her eyebrows up, not wanting to say no but also knowing it was a horrendous idea, “we’ll get mud everywhere too.”

He dramatically sighed and kissed her a few times, relaxing for a minute and warming himself up on her lips before his arms started to shake and he decided he needed to actually rescue the poor football’s fate. She sat on the floor for a second, watching as Bronx barked at him and Fik mocked major offence, putting his hand on his chest and pretending to be sad they’d argued before asking him for a cuddle, using it to his advantage to rip the football from out of his mouth. He could hear Emilia’s cute laugh from the other side of the pitch, booting the football and immediately hitting the crossbar.

Fikayo ran around the pitch dramatically to celebrate, both dogs following and on his tail as they made it over to Emilia, pulling her up and joining in on the fun, knowing she’d want to battle Fikayo for who could hit the crossbar most times. While she brushed off her bum of the debris that clung to her from the floor, Fik ran over quickly and pocketed his phone, not wanting her to know he’d filmed some of their shenanigans.. Well, until he got home and rewatched the footage, unable to contain himself therefore posting the clip to his story of him stealing the ball off her a few times and the little clip of them clattering to the ground at the end.

“You little sneak,” Emilia beamed, seeing the notification pop up on her phone as they lay in bed together, knowing the clip of them falling to the floor surrounded by the dogs would make everyone blow up.

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forthemorefortunate · 4 years

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ACOTAR Reading Update #7: Final ACOMAF Update

ACOTAR SPOILERS BELOW!!!

Layout: Progress, Currently, What happened recently, What’s happened so far, General thoughts, Predictions, Quotes + more thoughts

Progress: 100% through A Court of Mist and Fury !!!

Currently: Feyre is in the Spring Court :(( Rhys and co. are in the Night Court :(( Feyre’s tHe hiGH LAdY oF ThE NiGhT CoURT

What’s happened so far:

Click here for ACOTAR Reading Update #1

Click here for ACOTAR Reading Update #2

Click here for ACOTAR Reading Update #3

Click here for ACOTAR Reading Update #4

Click here for ACOTAR Reading Update #5

Click here for ACOTAR Reading Update #6

What happened recently:

BASICALLY SARAH J MAAS KEPT SECRETS AND WOW BIG PLOT TWIST AND AHH SO I DIED, SJM KILLED ME

They find the Cauldron. Feyre puts the two halves of the book together.

Enter: Jurian

Rhys shows up right before the king of Hybern shows up :0

They’re tRaPPEd D:

They go up to the throne room and gUeSS wHo dECidEd to shOW uP

^TAMMY BOI AND HIS FOXY FRIEND LUCIEN (whom I still love and nobody can convince me not to ☺)

Feyre’s sisters are turned into High Fae ⍤

The queens are absolute bitches. I was 100% right.

CASSIAN’S WINGSSSS BB

Lucien and Elain are mates :o wow we’re gettin a lotta mates in this book lmao

The king breaks the bargain between Feyre and Rhys and oh my gosh it was heart-wrenching

THE CHAPTER FROM RHYS’S POV OH MY GOD IT KILLED ME

Feyre’s the HigH FUCKIN LADY OF THE NIGHT COURT HAHAHA HELLS YES.

The book ended :o

General thoughts:

Okay so for those of you who read the predictions section of my last post, fioNN FUCKING TRICKED ME. She lead me in the complete wrong direction and wow I was not expecting taMLIN ANd LuCiEn to be with Hybern T-T I feel bETRAYED. And I underestimated Fionn’s acting skills hahah, it really was masterful – she fake laughed and acted as though she were trying not to smile as I spouted wrong predictions (okay though fr my prediction was a pretty good one) and let me believe that they were tRUE and I don’t know whether to yell at her or applaud....

Ugh I still love Lucien.

Yo I absolutely love how Amren was so adamant that Rhys go get Feyre at the end of the book... Like Amren is one of those characters that doesn’t say how much she cares about the other characters but always shows in gestures. She’s also really, well, sarcastic and cold and not all lovey dovey in that way aha. The fact that she said all that to Rhys shows how she really views Feyre as part of the family, and it just kills me and wow I love her

Lucien deeeefinitely knows something’s up lmao

Predictions for the next book: So I think Feyre’s gonna have to stay in the Spring Court for a while, seeing as SJM made such a big deal about Feyre’s sacrifice at the end of this book, but eventually she has to get back to Rhys. I think that the majority of ACOWAR will be spent with Rhys and stuff, but I’d say that probably a good percentage of the next book will be spent in the Spring Court as Feyre acts as spy and tricks Tamlin and stuff.

I think Lucien is finally gonna have to make a choice. Now that Elain is his mate, I think he’s gonna have to play a bigger role in the next book. Tbh that’s probably the only reason he hasn’t ratted Feyre out to Tamlin already. I mean I love Lucien so so so much, but at this point he’s still mostly loyal to Tamlin. I guess we’ll see whether that changes :0

Oh gosh I really really really hope that they can heal Cassian’s wings.... I mean, as Rhys said, Cassian would rather die than not be able to fly :((((

Quotes + more thoughts:

Together together together “Feyre.” Mor’s voice cut through the song of both halves. Amren had been wrong. Separate, their power was cleaved—not enough to take on the abyss of the Cauldron’s might. But together … Yes, together, the spell would work when I spoke it. Whole, I would become not a conduit between them, but rather their master. There was no moving the Cauldron—it had to be now. Realizing what I was about to do, Mor lunged for me with a curse. Too slow. I laid the second half of the Book atop the other. A silent ripple of power hollowed out my ears, buckled my bones. Then nothing.

FUCK

I knew the color of those eyes. I’d stared at one, encased in crystal, for three months. “Stupid fool,” he said to me. “Jurian,” I breathed.

I low key agree with Jurian lmao

I felt him sweep toward us. Like a ripple of night and wrath, Rhys appeared at my side. The Book was instantly gone, his movement so slick as he took it from me and tucked it into his own jacket that I barely registered it had happened. But the moment that metal left my hands … Mother above, what had happened? I’d failed, failed so completely, been so pathetically overwhelmed by it—

Awww babe. Yeah, yeah you did ☹

Faster than any of us could see, Jurian fired a hidden ash bolt through Azriel’s chest. Mor screamed.

NO FUCK MO CUFK NO FUCK NO FUCKN FO FUVM NO FUCK NFKEK MAN NO DJWJ. FJJFHFBSJAKKSKFNEBHAODLGNT NOOO DJWJAND FUCKKKKK

The king said to no one in particular, “Now that I’ve upheld my end of the bargain, I expect you to uphold yours.” From the shadows near a side door, two figures emerged. I began shaking my head as if I could unsee it as Lucien and Tamlin stepped into the light.

Fionn yOu FrEAkiNG TRICKED ME

The King of Hybern said from his throne, “We made a bargain. I give you over, and he agrees to let my forces enter Prythian through his territory. And then use it as a base as we remove that ridiculous wall.”

Oh sweet Jesus-

Rhys was barely breathing—barely moving. And I realized … realized it was to keep his scent from becoming apparent. Our scent. Our mating bond.

AWWW ☹

You do not hold me. The fist gripping my power relaxed. Vanished. Tamlin lunged for me over the few feet that remained. So fast—too fast— I became mist and shadow. I winnowed beyond his reach. The king let out a low laugh as Tamlin stumbled. And went sprawling as Rhysand’s fist connected with his face.

oH SWEET LAWD THIS IS WHAT I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THE ENTIRE BOOK

Molten rage poured into me. I hissed at Tamlin, “If you bring me from here, if you take me from my mate, I will destroy you. I will destroy your court, and everything you hold dear.” Tamlin’s lips thinned. But he said simply, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lucien cringed.

aW SEE LUCIEN STILL DOESN’T LIKE HOW TAMLIN SEES OR TREATS HER HE JUST WON’T SAY ANYTHING

Elain was shaking, sobbing, as she was hauled forward. Toward the Cauldron. Nesta began thrashing against the men that held her. Tamlin said, “Stop.” The king did no such thing. Lucien, beside Tamlin, again put a hand on his sword. “Stop this.”

IT’S TOO FUCKIN LATE YOU INCELS

“Tamlin?”

No. No she won’t. Tell me she won’t.

There was nothing but shock and confusion on Rhys’s face as I scrambled back from him.

oh fUCK SHE WILL-

Away from them. Toward Tamlin. “Tamlin,”

FEYRE WHAT THE FUCK I MEAN I GET ITS NOT REAL BUT OMG RHYS IS GONNA BE- I’M- NO.

Rhys cocked his head. “How did you do it, Feyre?” There was so much blood on him. One last game—this was one last game we were to play together.

WHAT?! SHUT THE FUCK UP FEYRE STOP ^side note: this is the exact quote that made me start sobbing :)

I shook my head. The queens had fallen back, their guards forming a wall between us. Tamlin watched me carefully. So did Lucien. So I turned to the king. He was smiling. Like he knew. But I said, “Break the bond.” Rhysand went still as death.

STOP I’M CRYING LITERALLY STOP JOKE’S OVER FEYRE, THIS ISN’T FUCKING FUNNY

And so Tamlin unwittingly led the High Lady of the Night Court into the heart of his territory.

5/17/20

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gworlinterrupted · 4 years

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Dreamboy Episode 6: Jupiter’s Lifeless Moons transcript

Hi! I was looking online to see if anyone had been doing Dreamboy transcripts and I saw that there was nothing after episode five, so I’ve started on the rest, episode six first. Sorry in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes, I’m dealing with lots of run on sentences here. Anyway I hope you enjoy, more transcripts to come (I’m gonna try to do all the bonus episodes and such). Also: if you’re looking to hire a transcriptionist for your podcast or anything else please feel free to shoot me a message, I’m always looking for work

Enjoy! If you’d rather have a pdf copy I’d be happy to send that to you too.

DANE

The dream is different this time. It starts in the dark like always, but this time I'm laying down. I’m curled up on something rough. I lift my head up. I feel like I'm moving. Oh my god, I’m inside the fish. I’m laying on its tongue. But it’s like it’s tongue is the whole bottom of the inside of the fish, and the inside of the fish is huge. It’s like the whole thing is hollow, and it has ridges like the inside of a throat. I stand up and look around. It’s daytime outside and the light is coming through the mouth and eyes like windows. I just stare at that ghostly daylight face, swaying slowly side to side as the fish swims. I have this sudden urge to look out, to look out of the mouth. So I walk to the front of the tongue. I walk right up to its giant jaws. The bones lay open just a little bit, and then they close and I feel the water come in, wash over my face, push my hair back. Outside I can see the tops of rocky spires, like underwater mountains or something, passing underneath us, and I want to see, I want to look but that means I have to lean my head out of its mouth, between its jaws. I think about it. Another intake of water blows my hair back.

[WATER RUSHES IN]

The mouth is exactly the height of my head, and I reach out and touch the bone jaw, and then I pull my hand back and wait. Nothing. Maybe the fish doesn’t know I’m in here. I reach out and touch the jaw again, but this time I leave my hand on it. Nothing. Just the rhythm of swimming. God, it feels so sharp. I swallow, and I lean my head out over the razor edge, and I look down into the water at the rocky spires passing underneath, but they aren’t spires, they’re not mountains, they’re buildings. The tops of tall skyscrapers all fuzzy and covered in moss and algae. It’s a whole city. It’s downtown Cleveland.

[SWOOSHING NOISES]

DANE

I wake up. The bright, late morning sun is coming through the windows of the guest bedroom, and my hand immediately goes to my dick, but it’s soft.

[SOFT MUSIC]

DANE

I get up and put on my wrinkled red shirt and slog my way to the zoo for work. On my way I text Luke, just a simple “hey, WYD”, but he doesn’t answer. He never responded to my goodnight text last night, either. Like, maybe he’s mad? About the cakes? I don’t know. I almost walk into traffic because I'm staring at the message thread. I stop at Settler’s Coffee, and I text him again. I say “I had another fish dream, they’re getting weirder.” I watch my phone intently as I cream and sugar my coffee. I use the simple syrup even though it’s hot coffee, just to have a hand free for my phone. But nothing. I get to work. Maybe he’s still asleep. He is pretty nocturnal. Work is stupid, we’re understaffed so I spend six and a half hours straight at the roller coaster podium. I stop saying that whole de-briefing room line about three hours in, and I text Luke a few more times, but he still doesn’t answer. And then I run out of things to text without feeling like a crazy creep. Now it’s a half an hour before close and I'm only just now getting a lunch break because Tammy Jammers, who usually watches the ride while I’m out on break, called out sick today. She said she had food poisoning, but I know she’s just hungover. Her last Instagram post was at three A.M. last night, and it was a picture, taken with a flash, of Taco Bell that she put on a plate. I go out to the main drag to get food like I always do, but the only food place still open is the hot dog stand, and I just can’t with those. They’re like the same temperature and texture as a human body so they make your mouth feel like it’s kissing someone you don’t like. Hot dog? Lukewarm dog more like. A breeze blows. [sighs] It’s getting colder, so I go back inside into the hall of history which is just this longstupid hallway

[OPERA ARIA IN BACKGROUND]

in the same building as the roller coaster. I have to walk through it every day when I go on lunchbreak, but I never actually stop because I only get thirty minutes for lunch break, and it takes twenty minutes just to get through the fucking food line, so I have to run through there, and it’s just like dusty plaques and old maps and stuff. There’s like a few old exhibits that don’t work. It’s, like, where grandparents go to hang out on hot days. Which you would think meant that they had more places to sit down, but.... I look down at my phone again. Nothing. There’s also this weird music playing, and it’s skipping like…. I look up and see a wall with the words “who's who” painted really big on the top of it, and underneath there’s like a bunch of buttons with flaps. I run my finger around one of the buttons and just like accidently the button pushes in and this voice recording starts to play. It’s Kritch!

ELI KRITCH

You love grapes and naps. Before your life here at the Pepper Heights Zoo, you were an animal pioneer for NASA and actually went into space! After that, you spent many years at an interstate sideshow in the Florida Panhandle doing a high society routine. To this day you still listen to opera to fall asleep. Which Pepper Heights animal friend are you?

DANE

The recording ends. I lift up the flap. It says “you are the chimpanzee, Madam Beauregard.” Great. That’s creepy. I look back down at my phone. Still nothing. It’s not that I like... it’s not that I like need to talk to him or anything, it’s just that, like, it’s just the not knowing is fucking awful. Like, just text me back! How hard is it to text somebody back? I look back at the wall. There’s an arrow pointing to a smaller button next to Madam Beauregard’s name, and it says “push button to hear your favorite aria”, but the music is stuck in which totally explains the skipping music. Jesus Christ, it’s probably an actual CD player behind this fucking wall with this place. I look at my phone. Fucking nothing. Earlier in the day, right after I asked if he was mad, I saw the little dots

VOICES [sung]

Where is Luke?

DANE

You know, the little dots that mean somebody’s typing back. And I… I watched them, and then they disappeared and they never started again.

VOICES [sung]

Where is Luke?

DANE

And ever since then my head has just been full of all the little voices that say all the little things..

VOICES [sung] Where is Luke?

Ughhh Jesus fuck, now they have music. That’s great.

VOICES [sung[

Where is Luke?

DANE

Yeah I don’t really care where he’s at. And why are there so many buttons in this exhibit? Like, there’s no way there’s this many animals that still live here. Like, most of the exhibits are shut down, these animals are probably dead.

VOICES [sung]

Losers

DANE

And the seven that are here are like not the kind of animals you want to push a button and hear about, right?

VOICES [sung]

Losers

DANE They’re like, retired circus freaks and movie animals that can’t work anymore.

VOICES [sung]

Losers, losers, losers

DANE

It’s like this whole place just attracts washed up showbiz animals.

VOICES

Just like you!

DANE

[sighs] Yeah thanks I connected that. I look down at my phone. Again. Nothing. Again. I don’t even know why I keep checking. I mean, I turn my vibration notifications on so I wouldn’t have to check but I still check. So I open up instagram to see if he’s posting there, but he’s not. It’s just the picture that he posted late last night. The one of the blue hand on his neck that we took in front of the tunnel. It’s already got like three thousand likes, Jesus Christ. I check my texts again. Why am I checking it, I'm holding it. So I open up Grindr. I check his profile. He’s not on. It says he hasn’t been on in hours. So I open up my texts again and I just look at it, I just LOOK. UGHH why won’t he text?!

VOICES

Cause he’d rather spend time with strange old men than talk to me.

DANE

It’s like they practice in there while I’m sleeping, Jesus. I look back up from my phone. Now I’m in front of some sort of ice age diorama, like, why? There’s a caveman standing over a wolf that he’s just killed, and there’s blood everywhere. And behind that, really small in a cave, there’s a woman and a child, waiting for him all terrified. But right next to the cave in the dark where you can’t see is another wolf, and nobody sees it. And then another face appears in the glass. I turn around. It’s Kritch. Or, like, Kritch’s face, on a TV, in an exhibit on the opposite wall. I walk over. He’s younger. It’s weird seeing young Kritch, I mean it’s like still my boss but, you know, smoother. It’s some sort of like special news piece from like twenty years ago.

KRITCH

Oh I certainly think the people over at Stonefall Labs can appreciate what we are doing over here. And for the record I do not believe that they are covering up any discoveries of alien life. That’s quite frankly preposterous. I can assure you they were in fact only only doing a geological survey of the moons of Jupiter, on contract from NASA, like they say. I just think they came up at the end of that, did more to make a big deal of it, we all have swings and misses sometimes, but I thought I’d take my own swing.

DANE

Boy, his smile hasn’t changed, that’s for sure. The video ends and there’s a black screen with a logo that says “The Zenarc Corporation”. I see my face in the screen.

[SWOOSHING NOISES/MUSIC]

DANE

It’s taken me a couple weeks of working here to piece it all together, but I do sort of know a little bit about what Kritch’s talking about in this video. See, in the late fifties the Stonefalls built this private research and development site called Stonefall Labs on the other side of the woods from the zoo. All sorts of things were developed there over the years, everything from, like, ketchup recipes and zip-ties to lots of darker things I’m sure we don’t know about. Like they famously patented the first answering machine, for example. It was as big as a room. It got sabotaged by this secret group of secretaries, though. Which is a cool story, but later. Anyway, because of some sort of technology that they had patented, they got a contract from NASA in the eighties to survey Jupiter’s moons to look for the possible presence of a specific isotope of helium called helium two. Now, scientists thought helium two was going to be like the rocket fuel of the future, it was going to revolutionize space exploration they thought. And this was all public knowledge there was even a little article in the paper, but nobody really cared. However, Stonefall labs found nothing. Zip. And at first they just said that there was problems with their equipment, but then weeks went by and then months and they said nothing. And they stayed quiet for so long that it started to attract attention, and people started to say maybe they in fact had found something a lot more interesting than helium deposits on the moons of Jupiter. Which, of course, that blew up like a house fire and pretty soon there was this huge conspiracy theory and speculation and a media frenzy. But at the same time while that was all going on, the young Elias Kritch had just taken over the helm of the Pepper Heights Zoo from his late father, Eddie. Despite the fact that another Kritch in charge of the zoo was like the last thing the Stonefalls wanted. But Eli was intent on leaving his mark, and he vowed to turn the zoo into a profitable enterprise, rather than just another suckling on the Stonefall money teet. So he said “I have an idea, how about a full on theatrical roller coaster experience called Jupiter’s Lifeless Moons”. The whole story inspired by the controversy. It was supposed to be this stepping stone into becoming a real amusement park, but he never made the money back. Like not even close. He put the zoo into permanent debt. The Stonefalls never let him live it down. And it only took a couple of years before the entire context was completely buried anyway. Pretty soon, nobody remembered anything at all about the Stonefall Lab’s Jovian lunar survey scandal, you know. But the ride stayed and here it is after all these years. The video starts to replay, Kritch starts talking again, and I start to walk away but I notice something I didn't see before: a rough disk with a hole in it hanging from a string around young Kritch’s neck. A disk with a hole in the middle… John Stonefall. What the…. I check my phone.

VOICES [sung]

Where is Luke?

DANE

Still nothing.

VOICES [sung]

Where is Luke?

DANE

Why can’t he just text back?

VOICES [sung]

Where is Luke?

DANE

Whatever.

LADY 1 [sung]

And could he really actually like me?

DANE

Yeah, probably not.

LADY 1 [sung]

Maybe I fucked it all up again

DANE

Probably.

LADY 1 [sung]

Maybe I’ll never know again

DANE

Whoa, that seems a little melodramatic

LADY 1 [sung]

Why do I even care?

DANE

You know, I don’t even care

LADY 1 [sung]

Do I even care?

DANE

No. I don’t think I even care.

LADY 2 [sung]

This is textbook patriarchal communication

MAN 1 [sung]

Maybe he’s not answering for a reason

DANE

I.. I know he’s mad at me for eating his cakes.

VOICES

Guilt!

DANE

Which, I did eat his cakes.

VOICES

Guilt!

DANE And lie to him

VOICES

Guilt! Guilt!

DANE

Ughhhhh

DANE [sung] Why do I feel guilty?

VOICES [sung]

Resentment

DANE [sung] I mean it’s not that big of a deal, Cora’s just a crazy lady.

VOICES [sung] Resentment

DANE [sung]

And the cakes were sent to the wrong house

LADY 2 [sung] I don’t know if that is true

DANE [sung] Why do I care? I don’t even like him at all

VOICES [sung] Where is Luke?

DANE Wanna know where he’s at? I’ll tell you where he’s at.

DANE [sung]

He’s off somewhere being young and stupid

HIGH VOICES [sung]

Haul him off, haul him off, haul him off!

DANE [sung]

He’s off somewhere not knowing what he wants

VOICES [sung] We just met

DANE

Yeah, we just met.

VOICES [sung]

We just met!

DANE [sung] He’s too laid back

LOW VOICES [sung] Too laid back

HIGH VOICES [sung]

Sleeps on the floor of an empty house

DANE [sung] I wish I could sleep on the floor in an empty house…. But I can’t!

DANE

Cause I have real responsibilities

DANE [sung]

Like he doesn’t do anything

HIGH VOICES [sung]

Do anything

DANE [sung]

Maybe he does and I just haven’t asked

VOICES [sung] Do anything, I didn’t do anything

DANE [sung] Maybe I’m the one

VOICES [sung] NOPE

DANE

Being a total dick

VOICES [sung] NOPE DANE Maybe I’m being a dick

VOICES [sung] I didn’t do anything

VOICE 1 [sung]

He’s just a narcissistic twink!

DANE Yeah

VOICE 1 [sung]

He’s just a narcissistic twink! DANE

Yeah

VOICES [sung]

A narcisistic, masochistic, fetishistic, sorta cryptic, dirty little selfish fucking twink! Who would rather be hit by strange old men than talk to me.

DANE Yeah, but I don’t care.

VOICES [sung] I don’t care!

DANE

I gotta get outta here. Where are the doors, where are the doors, I just need some air. I fall through the double doors, out onto the main drag. Oh, god….The air is cool, but it feels good. There’s, like, silence for a minute. At least in my head. I hear an age-guesser guessing his last customer somewhere.

[AGE GUESSER SPEAKING IN BACKGROUND]

DANE A smattering of laughing through the trees.

[LAUGHTER]

DANE

And I reach for my phone out of like instinct.

VOICE 1 [sung]

Where is Luke?

DANE

But then I stop myself because this is stupid

VOICE 1 [sung]

Where is Luke?

DANE

Like it's annoying that...

VOICE 1 [sung]

Where is Luke? DANE Like there’s some, some sort of..

VOICE 1 [sung]

Where is Luke? DANE

My body seems to have a question. Like a body question.

VOICE 1 [sung]

Where is Luke?

DANE

That it keeps asking.

VOICE 1 [sung]

Where…

DANE

My phone vibrates in my pocket! I pull it out. It’s a Grindr message. I open up the app. Oh, he’s cute. His message just says “hey”. It also says he’s only 200 feet away. I look up and look around. I don’t see anyone who looks like him. I look back at his profile. He’s playfully flexing his arm in his photo and making a goofy face, standing shirtless and soaking wet next to a pool in someone’s backyard somewhere, and his dark hair looks darker because it’s wet, and his underarm hair is pasted to his body in little black flames. His headline says Alex. I look at the time. I have twenty minutes. [sighs] Fuck it. “Hey”, I say. “What’s up”, he says. “On break”, I say. “Me too”, he says. “You work at the zoo?” “No, Stonefall Labs. I came to get a hot dog”. Wow, yuck, really? But I couldn't pass up the opportunity for a bad joke so I said “ah, you like weiners, huh”. Coy emoji.”LOL, yep”, he says. Then, “do you?”, and immediately he sends a picture of his dick. Whoa. Fuck, it’s huge. It’s thicker in the middle and curves really dramatically, and it’s so hard in the picture that it looks like a dead thing that’s swollen up on the side of a path. “Wow” I say, “I’d love to put that in my mouth some time.” Coy face. “You should”, he says, “how about now?” “Where”, I say. “Men’s bathroom by the Dippin’ Dots. No one’s ever in there. I’m by there now.” Fuck, my heart is racing. The zoo closes in half an hour, and there’s like nobody here, and he’s right, that bathroom is so out of the way that nobody uses it hardly. Even the Dippin’ Dots guy won’t be there cause he’s watching the rollercoaster for me right now. I look down at his message again. Then at the clock. Seventeen minutes left. My heart is getting quicker. [sighs] ”Okay”, I say “I’ll come now”. “I’ll be waiting inside”, he says. Okay. A few seconds later I’m cutting across the main thoroughfare. Walking quickly. The breeze is cool on my face. The stands are mostly all closed and the rides are shutting down. The few people that are out are all workers, all walking the same direction to the front gate. Their faces lit from underneath by their own phones. I come around the corner by the closed up Dippin’ Dots stand, and I stop. There it is. The squat, gray bathroom building with that rusty water fountain on the side that hasn’t worked for so long that an out of order sign is no longer required. I see the door of the men’s bathroom. It’s closed, but there’s an edge of seering white light all around the heavy metal door. Okay, okay okay okay okay. I walk up to it. I look around. Nobody. The whole building seems to have a low hum. I take a breath, and I open the door. There’s a loud metal creak as the door opens.

[CREAK]

DANE And the door catches on the concrete floor and doesn’t shut all the way. I kick it a couple times until it does.

[DOOR SHUTS]

DANE

The metal bangs ring and echo off the tile. Then I round a tiled wall into the bright restroom, and I see him, standing at the far left urinal, his back to me. He doesn’t look back or move, the cold white lights buzzing and flickering all around. I check the stall on the other side of the little room. It’s empty. It’s door off one of its hinges and hanging there like an open jaw. I walk up slowly to the far right urinal, side eyeing the guy. I keep a urinal between us. I get there and I start to undo my pants. The light directly above the urinals is buzzing, loud. I glance over at him, but he doesn’t look back at me or anything. He doesn’t talk or move or acknowledge me at all. Like, what the fuck? I mean it’s definitely him, and he’s standing away from the urinal so that I can see his dick but he’s just peeing. I look back at the wall, and then I look back over at him. He is handsome, though. He’s a few inches taller than me and muscular, in baggy Carhartt pants and a large dirty gray t-shirt. There’s paint on his elbows and grease on his arms. I look back straight ahead. Okay, now what? I start to panic. I try to pee, but I really don’t have to go. One more time, I look over. He’s done now, shaking his dick. God, even soft it’s big. But he’s still ignoring me. He’s still shaking it, like, way longer than he should. Okay, it starts to get bigger as he swings it around. And then he starts pulling on it, and I'm just standing there watching him out of the side of my eye, holding my own dick in my hand. God, it’s getting bigger and bigger and less floppy, and slowly his pulling turns into gripping and stroking, and it gets thicker and tighter until after about a minute it’s as thick as I saw in the pic earlier. God, it looks angry, and I'm watching his hand run the length of it back and forth, trying not to look like I'm looking, lost in the rhythm, when I hear it- a voice coming from everywhere at once. I look up at the side of his face, straight at it. The lights above flicker a little. It had to be his voice, but he’s still not looking at me. He’s just watching his hand move over his own dick. But as I'm looking at the side of his face I see his lips move, and I hear his voice again.

ALEX Come here. Get on your knees.

DANE I take a breath, I turn, and I walk up next to him. I can smell his cologne, and I kneel down in front of the urinals. The floor is hard and a little wet on my knees, and I try not to think about why. He turns, swinging his dick toward my face, and finally his eyes look down into mine. The light is buzzing and pulsing above him, his body’s like a silhouette, and then he reaches down and puts his fingers in my mouth. They smell like solvents and metal, and he feels around like he lost something in my teeth. And it doesn’t seem like this would be hot but, god, something about it really is. And then he opens my mouth wider with his fingers and takes them out and traces the wetness of my spit up my face, and then grabs my hair and slowly puts his dick in. Past my lips, and then past my tongue, gentle but also steady. I feel it hit the back of my throat and stop. He grabs my hair harder and looks down at my eyes. I don’t know how, but I sort of nod with my face and eyes and make a sort of “uh-huh” sound, and he smiles and puts more pressure in his thrust. And I feel my throat iris out like a dark, wet camera. And he slides all the way down, until my face is against his body. He just holds me against him, and he breathes. I feel the entire inside of my throat and head stretched over his dick. I feel it reaching down into my chest. I feel like a butterfly on a pin. His smell fills my nose. It’s a thick, sweaty smell- the smell of baseball and locker rooms and the back of the bus. He just looks down at me, and I look up at him, and the light buzzes.

[BATHROOM DOOR OPENS]

DANE

The metal bathroom door. He takes his dick out of my throat.

[DANE GAGS AND COUGHS]

DANE It almost makes me puke. I scramble to my feet and quickly get to the urinal. He turns and does the same. We both just stare at the wall in front of us, become strangers again. I hear someone round the tile wall behind us. I hear Alex zipping up his pants and flushing, quick. I do the same. I wipe the water from my eyes and I go to leave, but as I turn, I see the person who entered. It’s the Dippin’ Dots guy, Trey.

DANE [to TREY] Oh, hey man. Wait, you’re not still watching the ride...

TREY [laughs] Nah. I guess some little girl dropped her teddy bear on the track, so I closed it up early, but I left her number on the control console.

DANE

But you didn’t go get it?

TREY

Fuck no. I'm not climbing all those jank-ass ladders.

DANE [to listener] Alex brushes past Trey and heads out of the bathroom. Trey doesn’t even look at him. It’s funny what straight boys just can’t see in bathrooms. I watch Trey disappear into the slack jaw of the stall without even trying to close the door, and then I hear him start to pee.

[PEEING NOISES]

TREY

Later, dude!

DANE I get back to the roller coaster, it takes like twenty seconds. I go into the side door

[DOOR OPENING]

The door shuts behind me.

[DOOR SHUTTING]

And I take a breath. That was fucking intense. It all feels like it didn’t happen, but it just happened like a minute ago. I can still smell the dude on my face. Whoa [sighs]. All the colored lights and space music are gone, and the big overhead lights are on, but I know Trey’s dumb ass didn’t do any of the other closing duties. I walk up to my podium and I see the ride is switched into its standby mode, which means that both cars are nestled into the shuttle bay, and the power is off to the ride. In order to turn it all back on again, you need to put a special key in and turn the red lever, then you hear a big “kerchunk”, and the whole building sorta comes alive and the lights change and the music starts, but now it just looks like bad props and old paint in a bright warehouse, which is what it is. There’s the note Trey was talking about, though. It just says “little girl lost teddy on ride” and then a phone number. There’s not even a name. The keys are next to the note. I take them both and put them in my pocket.

[KEYS JANGLING, POCKET RUSTLING]

DANE I finish the rest of the closing duties: sweep and mop the floors, wipe the glass on the doors, wipe the coaster cars down, and when everything’s done, I go through the utility door into the underbelly of the ride to look for the damn teddy bear. Under the ride there are work lights, these bare bulbs hanging from scaffolding, but they definitely don’t work, so I pull out my phone and turn on the flashlight. It smells like laser tag. You know, that... that special effects smoke that they use. Half the time when people drop something we find it in “The Net”, and we’re supposed to check “The Net” once a week but people never check it. Also, the net is so old that it has rips and tears and whole sections that have fallen down. It’s like the web of a giant spider that got bored and said “fuck it” and crawled away years ago. So, often things end up on the dusty floor, twenty or thirty feet below. I walk to a place where I can look up through the skeleton of the rollercoaster into the net by the big turn. That’s usually where people drop things, the big turn. No teddy bear. I point my phone light down onto the concrete floor below it. Nothing. Anything new down in this dusty world is immediately visible for its lack of gray dust fuzz. If it has color, it’s new. But I only see an endless field of small, linty shapes. Look, there’s one last place that things occasionally do end up. The moon platform. See, in the middle of the ride there’s this platform where the coaster stops, like full on stops, and this video plays. It’s supposed to be the surface of the moon that you land on, and it’s where you meet the alien that makes the name of the ride ironic, I guess. I’ve never actually ridden the ride so I don’t know, but, like, a rollercoaster with a video in the middle sounds like an awful idea. I’m standing at the base of the ladder to the platform, looking up. I give it a shake.

[LADDER RATTLING]

It’s so loose that it wobbles and buckles all the way up, moaning and creaking. I hear a screw fall somewhere in the dark.

[SCREW FALLS]

DANE

[sighs] I take a breath and start to climb.

[LADDER RATTLING]

DANE

I feel the swaying pull of my weight on the scaffolding. Jesus. More creaking. I just climb faster and faster, I just try not to look. Finally I get up to the top of the platform and pull myself up and dust myself off.

[DUSTING OFF]

DANE

I stand up and look around. The platform is decorated to look like the rocky surface of a moon. Foam rocks, gray paint, that kinda thing. Still no sign of a teddy bear, though. I start to look behind the foam rocks. Maybe it got thrown. But then I hear a sound, a huge “kerchunk”. The work lights go off, the colored lights come on, and space music starts. The building groans, and something huge and metal begins to slither below me. Fuck, someone’s turned on the ride! I scramble to find the ladder in the dark, but I can’t, and I hear the coaster rumbling in the walls, it’s getting closer. Fuck! I don’t know what happens if I’m up here when the coaster comes, so I try to find the ladder again, but one foot slips off the edge of the platform. Holy fuck, I like almost fall. Jesus it woulda killed me, it’s like thirty feet straight down. The roar’s getting louder and louder and louder, I pull my leg back and I scoot behind a foam rock just as the coaster rounds the corner.

[COASTER WHOOSHING]

DANE There’s a person in it. The coaster slows and stops, locks into place. The screen lights up and the video begins, and in the light of the video I see that the person is Kritch, sitting in the middle front seat of the coaster, watching the screen, his arms in front of him on the lap bar. The moonscape continues in the video, making it look like the surface of the moon goes on for miles, and then there’s like eery moon music playing. Well, then a green alien emerges from behind a rock in the video, and it gets closer to us cautiously, and then it starts to speak.

ALIEN IN VIDEO Greetings, earthlings aboard Shuttle 5. I’m a representative for the race of beings that has inhabited Moon 34 of the planet you call Jupiter for millions of years. Your civilization has remained unaware of our existence until this moment. We mean you no harm. We have no weapons, our technology is meager, but we know why you’ve come. The resource you seek is plentiful here, but its retrieval would destroy our home and lead to our certain demise, as we depend upon it for sustenance. We will restore your communications momentarily. However, we beg of you, do not disclose our existence to your superiors upon your return. You must report no helium two on Moon 34, the future of our species rests in your hands, earthlings of Shuttle 5. Good fortune and tidings to you.

DANE The video ends and the coaster comes unlocked and starts again.

[COASTER STARTING, ROLLING]

DANE

Kritch faces front, and I see him wipe his eyes. I must have stood up during the alien’s speech. I crouch back down and hide again quickly. Fuck, I hope he didn’t see me. I listen to the coaster disappear down another hill as the onboard computer says “malfunction, malfunction, returning to Jupiter base [unintelligible]. The roar fades. [sighs] I breathe out. Then I get up and start feeling around for the ladder. A few minutes later, I fall through the utility door back into the launch room, almost coughing from the fake smoke. What the fuck was Kritch doing riding a kid’s ride all by himself in the middle of the fucking night? [sighs] What a weirdo. I hear the coaster make the last of the big turns. I just wanna get out of here, so I slip out quickly the way that the kids come out, through the debriefing room. The debriefing room is just a room with two big light-up buttons under a sign that says “MISSION REPORT”. I stop. The buttons… The buttons. I’ve never really understood them before now. There’s a red one and a green one, and the red button says “no helium present on moon” and the green button says “helium present on moon”, but it’s the green button that’s worn so much that it’s barely legible. I get closer. The glow of green gets brighter on my face. I don’t understand, the kids rat out the alien? That’s fucked up. I reach out and touch the green button. It’s rough from years of well-behaved, terrified children. But then, and I don't know why really, I reach over and press the red button. It blinks three times.

KRITCH

Good choice.

DANE [to listener]

It’s Kritch. I didn’t hear him slip in.

DANE [to Kritch]

Oh, um, I was... I was just uh leaving.

KRITCH It’s okay.

DANE [to listener]

He walks up beside me and looks at the buttons.

KRITCH

It is curious.

DANE [to Kritch]

What’s curious?

KRITCH Well, I didn’t expect it either but it’s true. All the kids push the green button.

DANE [to listener]

He’s not looking at me. He’s staring at the green button, his fingers running over that same rough patch.

KRITCH They tell the truth because they know they’re supposed to or they will get in trouble. But the grown-ups? They choose red.

DANE [to listener]

He looks over at the red button. His hand drops and his smile flattens.

KRITCH Because they know the truth about trouble.

DANE [to Kritch]

What’s the truth about trouble?

DANE [to listener]

He turns towards me. I can see that his eyes are still wet, and his suit is, like, way too shiny, and it’s reflecting the red and green lights. He takes a step towards me.

KRITCH That you’re always in trouble.

DANE [to listener] And then leans down until his face is like right over mine.

KRITCH And sometimes a little lie can really help with how much.

DANE [to listener]

The zoo is deserted. It’s after close now. All the lights on all the rides are out. Kritch said he would close up the ride and that I could go, so I started to head for the gate. I haven’t checked my phone in a while, but just as I'm reaching for it I hear something.

[ANIMAL CRYING]

DANE

A crying sound. Zoe. I stop. Something is different about the sound this time.

[ANIMAL CRYING]

DANE

I turn around and walk slowly along the side of the huge building that houses both the rollercoaster and Zoe’s enclosure. The sound usually sounds like it’s far away, like in a cave, but this time it sounds very close. I round the corner and there she is, only like fifteen feet from me, in a small cement stall with an iron gate around it standing over a drain. She yelps when she sees me.

[ZOE YELPS]

DANE I scream a little bit and turn to run around the corner, and boom! I almost run into someone.

DANE [to person]

Oh I'm sorry I…

DANE [to listener]

it’s Jennifer.

JENNIFER Did you miss me?

DANE [to Jennifer]

Fuck. I should have known I'd see you. Wherever there’s shadows and secrets there you are a sneakin’.

JENNIFER Look who’s talking. You’re the sneak tonight. Sneak.

DANE [to Jennifer] What are you even doing here?

JENNIFER What are you even doing here?

DANE [to Jennifer] I’m at my job. It’s a thing grown-ups do.

JENNIFER Pssh. Grown-up? Nice shirt. I’m here for the rally, stupid.

DANE [to listener]

She holds up a flier to my face, like a brat. I recognize it from Emily’s porch yesterday. It says “save Zoe rally at the zoo”. Fuck, that’s today? I don’t even know the date. I look back down at her stupid face.

DANE [to Jennifer]

You know what? You oughta go back and say hi to your little friend Zoe, stick your face through that gate and see if she’ll kiss ya’.

DANE [to listener]

Jennifer looks at me with almost pity, and then she starts laughing.

JENNIFER [laughing]

DANE [to Jennifer]

What’s so funny?

JENNIFER

[laughing] Oh, Zoe can’t hurt me.

DANE [to Jennifer]

Why not?

DANE [to listener]

She steps closer to me. She’s holding a piece of cardboard with “SAVE ZOE” written on it.

JENNIFER Because Zoe the zebra is dead.

[THEME MUSIC]

ELLIE HAYMEN Dreamboy is co-created by Dane Terry and Ellie Haymen. Developed and directed by Ellie Haymen. Written, composed, and performed by Dane Terry, featuring Cecil Baldwin, Avery Draut, Michael St. Peter, Jake Sellers and Chris Weingarten. Sound Designed, Engineered, Mixed and Mastered by Christopher Weingarten at Bananappeal Studio. Edited by Alexander Charles Adams. Creative Producer and Assistant Director: Ashlin Hatch. Associate producer: Adam Cecil. Executive Producer: Christy Gressman. A very special thanks to Night Vale Presents. You can find us on Twitter and Instagram @dreamboypodcast. For more info and for merch check out dreamboypodcast.com.

#dreamboy #dreamboy podcast #night vale presents #do i have to put a disclaimer? idk how these things work. this isn't my podcast i'm just a fan

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jisoomes · 2 years

Text

trying to get through Friday rn like rina sawayama didn’t cut me open emotionally xD

#stuff nobody but tammy cares about #my smile is really TREMBLING #that album was therapy lmao

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dwaynepride · 5 years

Text

It Will Rain

Summary: Pride can’t wait anymore. If he doesn’t spill his guts, he may lose you forever.

Words: 3,602

Warnings: None

Tags: @6adb0y @thegoodlonelydalek @consultingdoctorwholock @pageofultron @stanathanxoox @starryrevelations @thebeckyjolene @diaryofafan17 @specialagentlokitty

Notes: title comes from this song and while this fic isn’t based off of it, i think it really fits uwuwu

The sky is turning dark red as Pride stands in the courtyard, watching the NOPD officers take his suspect to holding. He regrets sending him off to a cell for the night without getting much out during interrogation. While Pride knows damn well that this investigation is far from over, he hates sees that smug smile of a man being taken away from federal custody.

For now, at least.

He gives a cross huff, head shaking while Pride turns and makes his way toward the kitchen. There’s not much they could do tonight. It’s basically a waiting game of Sebastian finding some forensic evidence, or maybe they can get a witness to talk. Some kind of leverage to coerce a confession.

But waiting was harder than the case itself. Pride thought himself a patient man, but waiting around for results and testimonies was one of his least-favourite parts of the process.

Pride is still stuck in his own head as he enters the kitchen, finding it difficult to put the case behind him for the night. Maybe he’ll go to the bar and work on something that isn’t a murder. Or take Loretta up on her offer of having dinner with her and the boys. Or maybe...

“Hey, Pride!”

His attention snaps back to reality instantly, eyes rising to the source of the greeting. Pride genuinely thought he was the only one here. He heard something about Christopher and Gregorio going out for the night, and just assumed you were going with them. And yet, here you are, in his kitchen with a fresh cup of coffee.

Even though it’s really getting late. “Hey,” he greets lightly, hands in his pockets as he approaches. “What’re you still doing here? I thought you’d be out with the others.”

You just give him a shrug, looking down to mix some sugar in the coffee. “I was gonna, but there’s a couple things I wanted to do tonight. Get a headstart for tomorrow, you know?”

Pride gives a light amused huff as he finally reaches you. “You’d rather be hangin’ around here instead of out having fun?” He asks, a teasing tone edging his voice. And it makes you smile. Pride couldn’t even remember being frustrated about the interrogation.

“Who says I can’t have fun with you?” Your eyes raise, meeting his, reflecting each others smiles. As if the whole day hasn’t been slow and aggravating and maybe there can be a good ending to it. Pride was suddenly glad that you decided to stick around; he needed a good dose of peace that came with being alone with you.

His head dips in concession, as if he would ever argue against your wishes. “Alright, well, at least lemme make you something. I’m sure you haven’t eaten much today,” Pride says, skirting around you to the fridge. There wasn’t too much here, unfortunately. He can probably whip up some sandwiches.

“You don’t have to, Pride. Coffee’s fine-”

“Nope, I don’t wanna hear it. You’ll work better with some food in you.”

You sigh. You glare at him. But eventually, you dip your head and slide into one of the bar stools, clutching the cup of coffee. And Pride sets off to prepare your food. As if your presence wasn’t calming enough, just being able to slow down and work in his kitchen is just what he needed. Preparing some food, even if it is as simple as a couple sandwiches.

As peaceful as the moment is, Pride can’t shake off a certain feeling of tenseness. Like a rubber band pulled taut. He knows some of it is due to your staring at him in silence, finger tapping against your mug. Pride can feel your eyes on him, and it makes his heart beat just a little faster. But the tense air has always been there, lingering in the background when you and him had time alone, like this. Or even when the others are around. As if there’s something he should be doing, and you’re both aware that he’s not.

Pride clears his throat involuntarily, trying to pull his focus away from his own churning thoughts. They’re gonna ruin this precious little moment. “Ya know, after this case is over, I really think you outta go out. Have some fun with the others,” Pride speaks up, his eyes darting up to yours. “You deserve it.”

You blink at him. Give a little smile than forces him to reflect one of his own. “I might. If you come with us.”

“Come with you?”

“Yeah! You usually like music and drinks and hanging out.”

Pride lets out a shy little scoff, shrugging his shoulders: at the bar, sure. But he can’t remember the last time he actually went out for the fun of it. “I dunno. I think you’d have more fun with Christopher and the others,” Pride replies. Did he sound self-deprecating? That wasn’t his intention.

You didn’t seem to think so. In fact, you didn’t look at all bothered by the light rejection. “Alright, maybe we could go out,” you offer. Instantly, his blood cools, and Pride’s head jerks up in surprise.

Go out?

His reaction causes you to backpedal, eyes averting in embarrassment. “I meant, you know, to the bar. Just for some drinks or something. You deserve some time off, as well.”

Even though you changed your tune - the words technically meaning it would be two friends getting some drinks together - Pride had a feeling that it wasn’t so black and white. He’d be foolish to pretend he hasn’t put serious thought into whether he should risk crossing the line with you. Dating a fellow agent: it was messy stuff, and honestly, Pride was more afraid of ruining a friendship than he was about whatever protocols you two would surely break.

But that didn’t stop him from wanting to. Didn’t stop you from wanting him to take the first step.

Pride scares himself with how close he is to saying yes.

Instead, his eyes fall down to the sandwiches, finishing them up by topping them with a slice of bread. “Uh, food’s done,” he says. Pride hates to ignore the topic, like he did. To completely sweep it under the rug; he was the type to face things head on. But was this the right time to do that?

He hears you stand from the stool, and Pride assumes you’re coming to get the sandwich. Maybe the two of you can still have this time alone at the office. It’ll be like it always is.

Instead, you back up toward the archway of the kitchen. And when Pride looks back up, your eyes are down. Shoulders slouched. His gut is instantly tight at the look on your face. “Actually, uh, I’m kinda tired. I think I should head home.”

Pride can’t help but frown. “Head home. You sure?” He asks, coming around the island to get closer.

But you’re careful to keep your distance. Smiling tightly to try and play off the hurt you’re surely feeling. The hurt he caused. “Yeah, I actually have to get up early in the morning. There’s something I have to do before coming in.”

You say nothing more after that. Pride watches silently from the archway as you grab your coat and head out the door. His stomach is now too tight to even think about eating. And he reckons sleep won’t come easy; he’ll be replaying this encounter over and over in his head, scolding himself, but for what? Being cold? Or cowardly?

Either way, Pride hates himself for hurting you. And goes about cleaning up the kitchen with a heavy heart.

The next day was about as chaotic as Pride predicted it would be. True to your word, you didn’t show up until a little later in the day before getting caught up in the case. Pride could only recall speaking to you once, and that was over the phone.

As much as the distance was making the day no better, he supposed it’s for the best. What if he said something else to hurt your feelings? Or maybe you just didn’t want to see him? That second possibility hurt to think about - he knows you probably wanted more out of last night. Hell, he wanted it, too.

Pride runs his fingers through his hair with a harsh sigh, squinting his eyes down at the papers strewn out across his desk.

Now just wasn’t the time to be jumping into relationships - that’s all.

Commotion from the door has Pride lifting his gaze from the papers. Sebastian and Gregorio came walking through with slackened shoulders and dragging feet; it’s been a long day. He can tell they were ready to go home. “Any luck with eye witnesses?” Pride asks, though he probably already knows the answer.

“No,” Tammy answers with a flat voice. “We walked about a dozen blocks, asking people if they saw our victim around the area in the last month. Nobody saw nothin’.”

“Or they have, and they’re just not telling us,” Sebastian cuts in, collapsing into his chair. “Either way, we have squat.”

Pride sighs again, reclining back in his chair and rubbing his heavy eyes. “I shoulda called Chris and Y/N. Sent ‘em your way for some help,” he says.

Tammy’s already saddling up her things, but she looks up at the mention of your name. A small little huff comes from her chest. “It’s no big deal, Pride. Besides, if Y/N takes that job offer, we’ll have to get used to being a man down.”

Job offer?

The words send ice into Pride’s spine. He thinks for a moment that maybe he heard her wrong. Maybe he’s just tired and read something in the files about a job offer. But even Pride knows that explanation doesn’t stand; he knows he heard Gregorio right. And suddenly, all the fatigue in his body is gone as he stands at his desk, leaning closer towards Tammy. “Job offer?” He echoes.

She’s quiet for a moment. Looks over to Sebastian, and when Pride does the same, he finds that the forensic agent has his eyes averted to his computer screen to avoid the stare. So Pride looks back to Tammy, his stomach growing tight with a desperate need to know. “What job offer, Gregorio?”

“I thought they told you. I mean, the rest of us knew, so-”

“Well, tell me now.”

Tammy’s arms fall to her sides, looking exasperated. “The thing that kept them busy this morning? It was an interview with the FBI. Something about a position that opened up. Y/N’s been getting calls, and I guess they went to hear what they had to say.”

The floor was suddenly swaying under Pride’s feet. Has he really been so blind that you went for a job interview and he didn’t know? He was usually on top of things, like this. He knew before anybody else did. And yet, this somehow flew under his radar.

He swallows, feeling a little sick before tilting his head at Gregorio. “Are they takin’ the job?”

“I don’t know.”

Good. That’s good. Pride still had time to talk to you. To be honest.

He’s grabbing his phone and keys and marching out the door before either of his agents can say anything more. Pride needed to get to your house as quickly as possible. It was late, sure. You might not appreciate him knocking on your door after a hard day, but he knew in his gut that this couldn’t wait until morning.

Pride tries his hardest to focus on driving, but his thoughts drift to you. More specifically, all the perfect moments over these last few months when he could’ve said something about the way he felt. Back then, it always felt necessary to ignore it. There was plenty of time, he’d tell himself. Soon. He’d tell you soon. When the time was right.

Evidently, Pride waited too long for the perfect moment. Whether he liked it or not, it was now or never.

His car screeches to a stop in front of your place. The lights are off, and had it not been for your car in the driveway, Pride would’ve been afraid that you weren’t even home. So, quick as he can, he turns the car off and jumps out, making his way to your front door.

His chest is impossibly tight, making it hard to breathe as he stops in front of the door. For a brief moment, Pride is tempted to just turn around and walk back to his car. Would it really be fair of him to dump this on you in the midst of an important decision? How much would it influence which job to choose?

Pride’s fist bangs on the door - hard, in case you’re asleep.

No, he knew you felt something for him, too. If he wasn’t honest tonight, he’ll regret not giving you that choice.

There’s no answer, so Pride knocks again. It feels like time stretches on for much longer than it really is. As the seconds tick by, the growing pit of dread in his stomach grows and grows. Maybe you weren’t even home. Or maybe you’re just not answering, knowing it’s him and not wanting to speak him.

The thought makes Pride turn away from your front door. And he takes a couple steps away before finally hearing the locks flip. When he looks back, you’re peering out through the crack in the door with blurry eyes. “Pride?” You ask in a groggy voice.

You open the door wider, and he can see you’ve changed into loose-fitting pajamas. Messy hair and slow movements - you were obviously sleeping. And even though Pride felt a bit of guilt at disturbing you, he was beyond pleased that you were answering the door. Talking to him. “Uh, hey. Sorry for wakin’ you up,” he replies, coming back to his previous spot.

Your head shakes, watching his hand fit into his pockets. Watching the way his eyes don’t truly meet yours; something was up. “It’s okay. Is something wrong?”

“No, no, everything’s fine.” Dwayne stops himself, shaking his head vehemently as he backpedals. “Actually, no. Everything’s not fine. I heard about your interview with the FBI.” Once the words are out, your own eyes fall away from his. So Pride tilts his head to reestablish contact. “When were you gonna tell me?”

“I wasn’t,” you answer, and then sigh. “At least, not until I figured out what I was gonna do.”

Pride understands your reasoning; he really did. But that doesn’t stop him from leaning forward, needing more of an explanation. “Don’t you think this is something you shoulda shared with me?” He asks, fighting to keep a desperate tone from entering his voice.

Your eyes immediately return to his at the question. “Why?”

He almost says it. Blurts out the three impossibly-heavy words that’s been hanging like an anvil over his head since Gregorio told him about your interview. But at the last moment, Pride backpedals and straightens up. “I’m your boss,” he says, as if that was the problem.

Something twists in his gut when your face hardens up. Pride can basically feel the walls going up - you suddenly felt a million miles away from him. “Well, I didn’t know I needed your permission to go for interviews.” Your voice is much harsher than it was before, and it causes Pride’s eyes to fall to the ground. “And I haven’t even decided if I’m taking it, so-”

“I don’t think you should.”

Did he just say that out loud? Geez, it’s not like this was his decision. Like he had any stake at all in your career. For all he knows, the FBI would be good for you. Pride can imagine the prestige that’ll come with an NCIS agent who was asked to join.

But the thought of you leaving and never coming back scared the hell out of him. Left a yawning pit in his stomach.

Your arms cross at his words, still looking stern. “Why not?” You ask.

This was Pride’s chance; he saw that clearly now. No more being afraid of crossing lines or ruining a friendship. Not when he could lose you. Pride sucks in a deep breath because he realizes he hasn’t been breathing. “Because that’d mean you won’t be here. With me. And I really don’t want you to go. I know I’ve been cowardly and never said a damn thing, but...”

The words get stuck in his throat. Pride watches you take a step closer, eyes focused solely on him. Your expression is no longer angry or defensive. It’s more like you’re....searching. Waiting for him to say the right thing that’ll get you to stay. And Pride knows what it is.

“I love you. Please don’t go.”

It’s done. It’s out now. After months of burying it and ignoring it, Pride lets his feelings see the light of day. He knows he should feel relieved; he never enjoys keeping his emotions underwrap. But right now, it’s almost as if Pride’s heart has stopped beating.

At least until your searching gaze lights up, and you smile at him. Bright and warm and almost-painfully jumpstarts his heart but he can’t even feel it past the hot rush of joy. Dwayne mimics the smile before you’re suddenly on him, arms wrapped around his shoulders and squeezing tightly. He instantly circles his own arms around your midsection.

Sure, you both have hugged before. You were close friends, and Pride was an affectionate guy. Touches weren’t out of the question. But this hug was miles ahead every other hug you’ve shared. Because Dwayne didn’t have to stop himself from spreading his fingers out across your back. Didn’t have to fight back the urge to push his face into the crevice of your neck.

So he does just that, and then sighs when he feels your fingers play with the hair at the base of his skull. “I love you, too,” you mumble out, right next to his ear.

The words warm Dwayne more than he could ever possibly think they would. So he grins into your neck, not even bothering to pull away to ask his next question. “So you won’t go?”

The vibrations of his voice in your neck make you laugh. And when you try to pull away to look at him, Dwayne instinctively pulls you closer. Like he was afraid you’d suddenly run away. Or worse; say you were taking the job.

You finally pull back enough to look him in the eye. And despite everything, there’s a bit of fear and worry shining in his green gaze. Fear, because after finally letting himself step over line, maybe it wasn’t enough. Worry, because perhaps you didn’t love him enough to stay.

But then you shake your head, and smile at him again. “No, I won’t.”

The smile turns into a grin that Dwayne instantly reflects. He’s eager to pull you back in, already addicted to the feeling of having your body pressed against his. But he can’t seem to break contact with your eyes. Nor you with his. The air around you suddenly weighs more than it should be, or maybe it’s just hard for Dwayne to breathe.

Either way, he raises a hand to fit along your jawline. His thumb comes out to trace over your cheek; soft and warm. And the way your head leans into his hand doesn’t help ease the pounding of his heart.

Lining up his lips with yours was the most natural thing in the world.

At first, it was a motionless kiss. Just pressing your lips together to get the feel of it. But in no time, Dwayne starts moving, and you follow his lead. He immediately moves to start sucking on your bottom lip, and the way you inhale at the sensation gives him goosebumps. Your hand moving through the hair on the back of his head only makes them stronger.

You’re both breathing through your noses to stretch the kiss on for as long as possible. And Dwayne is content to stand here all night doing just that; you felt way too good to let go.

But there’s a phone call. From inside your house. Who the hell was calling you this late?

You’re the one who finally breaks the kiss; flustered and panting and smiling shyly. Dwayne has no doubts that he’s in the same state, but his head is in the clouds, so he can’t be sure. That’s why he silently walks through your front door after you grab his hand and you pull him inside.

Neither of you speak. It’s a little awkward, in a good way - you feeling bad that your phone cut the kiss short, and Dwayne just eager to continue it. But he simply watches as you walk up the coffee table, sweeping up your phone and checking the caller ID. “Who is it?” He asks lightly.

“The FBI agent who interviewed me. He said he’d call me, night or day, when he got any news.”

Dwayne nods, expecting you to answer, but you never do. And it makes him frown a little in confusion. “Arent’cha gonna answer it?” Dwayne questions, stepping up to stand beside you.

A second later, you shake your head and send the call to voicemail. Dwayne’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but then your arms are around his shoulders again. Lips brushing against his. And he suddenly couldn’t care less about the phone call.

#ncis new orleans imagine #ncis new orleans x reader #ncis nola x reader #dwayne pride x reader #dwayne pride imagine

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corrupted-tale · 4 years

Text

Some of the side characters in my au

Bucket: A subconite who wears a bucket on his head. He somehow wins every bet he makes. He is extremely friendly, and one of the few subconites brave enough to make fun of snatcher. He’s a good friend, and has befriended the haunted nooses because he brings them victims.

Tammy: A subconite who is extremely brash and swears like a sailor. She wears a mail hat she stole from one of snatcher’s victims. She’s bucket’s best friend and makes bets with bucket way too much, even though she knows she won’t beat him in a bet. She helps hat kid with her shipping wall. Nobody knows why she does this.

Pyre: A charming subconite who tends to stay in the burning part of the forest. He wears a glittery yellow and orange bow tie he found on a mafia person who wandered into the forest. He is going to be important later on in the timeline.

Belle: A dweller who is obsessed with bells. She left the forest and met a cat named Rail from nyazuka and a bird named goose from dead bird city. Goose is not a goose. Belle now roams the world with them, and loves her new best friends.

Lilivan: One of the many marionettes moonjumper made while he was trapped in the horizon. She wears Lolita clothing, and has a parasol. She can make sakura petals appear out of nowhere. She loves helping moon design clothes for the other marionettes and calls people dessert themed nicknames. She got the nickname stuff from moonjumper.

Henry: A punk themed marionette who is rude, says dumb things, and gives really good life advice. He can be insensitive at times, but that’s just because he hasn’t met many people. He doesn’t have much experience being social.

Sam: A laid back marionette in comfy clothes. He has a painted on face portraying a forever chill expression. He keeps Henry in line and gets stressed easy. He really cares about his marionette siblings.

Marrion: The first ever marionette moonjumper made. He sounds silly, and is a toy, meaning he is much smaller then his people sized siblings. He loves entertaining and being played with, it’s his purpose as a toy after all.

#ahit #ahit au #ahit subconites #ahit snatcher #ahit moonjumper #a dream in time

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goalkepa · 4 years

Note

Could you do the shipping your mutuals with a footballer and telling is how they will spend their weekend?

so I received these two similar asks in different times. the screenshot one has been in the box for like months ago I’m so sorry anon I wanted to answer it well but I was busy back then so now I’m going to combine these two. anyway let’s get started I have a lot of thoughts about this ask 👀

@footballffbarbiex & anto // amy and anto are meant to be. she will always be his massive supporter. she won’t miss any of his matches but she is just too shy to show up at the stadium. she prefers to support her man in a lowkey way. being the happiest women on earth when he scored but also the saddest when seeing him struggling. however, she chose to not talk about football with anto during weekend, because she knows the only thing he needs is relax and distractions. they will watch nba together. amy has no clues how basketball works but anto is an expert of it, as we all know. he will tell her everything he knows, all the rules and rookies stuffs. amy probably won’t be interested in anything he said but she just loves to see her man being passionate about things he love. she loves him for being who he is.

@avsensio & julian // lexi is too important to julian. she knows this season has been tough for him, so she did what she is good at, using her humor to lighten up her man’s mood, and it works. during the weekend, they lay in bed together watching series and Lexi always can’t stop joking about those characters in the series and julian always looks at her with a big smile on his face. they will walk their dogs together, enjoy the sunset and have a meal at their favorite restaurant. Lexi doesn’t like romantic stuffs, but when it came from julian, you know Lexi will never shut up about it and how lucky and grateful she felt to have Julian as her important one in life.

@fcsonny & sonny // nicole and sonny will be the cutest couple out there who always bring so much sunshine to the people around them. Nicole is sooo good at drawing. She often visits Spurs’ training session, sitting beside the training ground, with a pencil and a notebook in her hands, drawing down the things happened at the training ground. nicole loves trying all kinds of different food, so does sonny. So during weekend, they will go to the restaurant or cafe on their wishing lists, chatting about how dumb his teammates are, and she always know how to cheer up her man, since she is the biggest Spurs’ supporter herself.

@blueforthejerseyandhiseyes & mason // hannah always tries to go to as many matches as she could, because she knows mason will be so happy seeing her coming and her existence will add a lot of energy on him. Hannah loves getting cuddle and mason is always willing to give her a lot of cuddles whenever she is happy or upset. during weekend, they will bake cookies together, putting flour onto each other’s faces, making kitchen into such a mess but they dont care. they both love amusement park so much. screaming out loud when taking roller coaster, laying in each other’s arms on the Ferris wheel, watching the sunset together.

@robertsnowman & tammy // tammy will be that one who can make liz smile so wild because he is just such a silly guy. he knows that liz is always so stressed when watching their matches. he could tell from her face when he came home. he told liz is okay not to watch it but she refused because thats her way to support him. so tammy will hide his emotions whether the result is good or bad, and trying to give her distraction. they will watch tv series, movies and even racing and Motogp since his girl is a huge fan of motorsport. tammy loves asking liz a lot of questions about motorsport, not just because he is kinda interested into it, but also because he just loves seeing her being so passionate when talking about it.

@arrizabalagafc & kepa // kepa might always look angry and hyped on the pitch yelling at the defenders, but we all know he is just a shy adorable bean off the pitch, especially in front of flor. instead of being a chatty person, he’d rather to be a listener, and thats exactly what flor needs. they dont really go out on weekends, since they are both very busy during weekdays but sometimes they will go to concert together, watch their fav bands’ performance and enjoy being nobody among the crowd. kepa is literally not a romantic type that he always forgets things like anniversary but flor truly doesn’t really care about these things either. they share a lot of life values with each other.

#alright im so not good at this can you believe this took me a week to write?#I originally wanna write for a lot of people but ending up running out of idea #so Im sorry if I didn't write about you I just dont wanna ruin you and your fav footballers #and yea im not going to ship myself with any footballers thats too much self expose ajksjnakjs #also liz if you're reading the tags im sorry I wanna include you in this post but im so not sure which footballer is your fav #so I just went for tammy. if you dont like just tell me 😂#okay rant is over enjoy this shit I wrote 🤧#and anon sorry for the late late late reply I tried my best as you can see :')))#anon

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rocket-----queen · 5 years

Text

Leather and Lace

(smut)

She sneezes when the brush teases her nose, causing her to accidentally inhale the compact powder that is being put on her face by the make-up artist, final touch to her current appearance, the appearance that she doesn't seem to like very much since the clothing, or should she say the lack of it, makes her feel a little bit uncomfortable. She's wearing only a flimsy, transparent robe that she's supposed to take off for the scene anyway, and thus get naked in front of him which causes her to shiver any time she recalls the thought in her head. Why is she even so worried, so concern about the whole thing? He's probably seen many actresses undressing for their roles, and she was naked on the set before, so what's the point here? She takes one last deep breath, one last attempt to calm her rapid heartbeat, before she leaves the room, stepping to the newly arranged bedroom. He's already here, sitting on the edge of the mattress, talking to the director, both of them burst into laughter at some point, but all of the conversations die when they notice her standing by the door. "Action!" The shout snaps her out of the trance, reminding her that she has to stay professional and ignore the fact that one of the most gorgeous men she has ever seen, is going to see her naked. She's more than aware that he can see her body through the robe almost perfectly, and it's obvious that he's staring at her as she slowly approaches him, swaying her hips mildly, just like always. He frowns, utterly disgusted because of the drooling cameraman who is giving his sweet girl the greediest look he's ever seen, as if he was undressing her with his eyes. Well, no wonder he does, she looks delicious indeed, but why he even called her 'his sweet girl', since they are just co-workers, nothing more. He's been trying to ask her out for some time, but he feels like she's been avoiding him, because any time he starts a conversation, she apologises for being in hurry, and walks away before he gets a chance to convince her to stay. He's able to see the outlines of her nipples perfectly, pink and erect, attached to the pair of perfectly round breasts, and he catches himself thinking that he would love to squeeze them until she mewls his name - well, this is actually pathetic, and he has to stop before he gets too worked up, but he's not sure whether he's really able to stop it at this point. He frowns when he notices the silver ring glinting on her left nipple; the piercing had to be painful as fuck, there are no other words to describe it. The way he's staring at her causes a new wave of heat to pool in her lower stomach, letting her feel that she's wet, maybe not totally soaked, but wetter than usually, which is not a good sign at all, but he won't notice, if she's super careful - at least she hopes so. As soon as she stops in front of him, he gently takes her hand and pulls her down on his lap, all according to the scenario, making her gasp, like for real, when their crotches press together, the cotton material of his boxers rubs her tingling clit lightly. He can feel her perfectly through the thin layer, hot and wet, and he fights the urge to moan out, since that would be...well, definitely inappropriate, but he can deny himself all of the pleasure of being in these particular circumstances with her. "You're wet," he whispers into her ear, carefully, so that no one can hear him, and she shivers - that was definitely not his line; oh my fuck, that was definitely not his line... He flashes her a quick teasing smirk, very much aware of her current state - she looks flushed, she wants him, truly wants him, which makes his mind, and other certain parts of his body, dizzy with desire. She watches his face for a small amount of time, feeling how his chest is heaving in time with the taken breaths, gasping when he slides the gown down her arms, exposing the heated skin to the cool air, making her shiver when the clothing falls down on the floor. He takes a sharp inhale when his eyes take in the image of her bare body, stopping at the two round breasts that are pressing lightly to his torso. He can't help but think how much he would like to run his hands up her chest, touch them, tease her nipples, watch her squirm on his lap due to the gentle caress. The truth is that he's always fancied her breasts, and she has no idea how turned on he got when he saw the script for today's scene. "Tammy," he groans, now sticking to the scenario which makes her oddly disappointed, since she would love to hear him say her name, not the name of some stupid made-up character, but the lustful glint in his eyes can't be faked, right? "Fuck, baby, I want you." "I want you too," she whimpers (who the fuck made up that line?), before she leans in, pressing her soft lips to his, taking his breath away for a brief moment. She melts into his embrace, forgetting about the cameras, the staff, the director, forgetting about anything but how good it feels to be kissed by Johnny. She's so caught up in the moment that she doesn't hear the director shouting "cut!" since her mind is currently occupied by his soft lips brushing her, leaving her stomach tingling with desire, but luckily he brings her back to reality by departing their lips softly. "That was quite something," he whispers into her ear once more, making her gasp when she feels her how breath fanning over the side of her neck. "Indeed it was." * * * She can't sleep, she's just lying and staring at the ceiling for what seems like hours, tossing and turning from side to side. She's already tried every possible position, had warm shower, went for a short walk, even drank a cup of chamomile tea, but nothing helped to put her to sleep. She groans in frustration, rolling on the other side, before she gets up, and walks out of the dusty room to the line on connected balconies, typical for the cheap motels. Who even stays here except for her, a bunch of teenagers (not that she's much older than them) who rather run away from home or want to make sure that their parents won't interrupt their sex, which leads us to the last type of visitor - a man with a prostitute; God, she hates that place. "Fabienne?" She hears a male voice coming from her right, and almost screams, clearly startled, since she hasn't expected to meet anyone outside, especially in the middle of the night, but the tone appears somehow familiar to her, so she looks to the side, greeted by the sight of no other man than Johnny, the cause of her sleepless torture. "Johnny? What the fuck are you doing here?" She asks, looking at him with a puzzled expression written across her pale face. "Can't sleep," he shrugs his shoulders, taking another drag from the newly lighted cigarette. "Me neither," she sighs heavily, before she repeats her previous question, still greedy to hear the answer. "But what are you doing in the motel?" "Just staying here, what else can you do in a motel?" He asks with a dash of sarcasm in his voice, making the girl roll her eyes. "Oh c'mon, no one stays here, except for the bunch of teenagers or men with prostitutes," she says, flashing him the infamous 'oh-you-can't-be-serious' look. "So we are categorized as nobody? I'll keep that in mind," he replies with yet another sarcastic comment; he seems frustrated for some reason, but she can't figure out the cause which she finds equally frustrating. "Why are you so..." she needs a moment to think about the right word to describe what's currently on her mind, but he doesn't seem to care. "So what?" He snarls all of sudden, accidentally spitting out his cigarette on the pavement due to the rapid action, startling the girl beside him. "So...tensed," she almost whispers, staring directly into his eyes, the intensity of the look makes him shiver involuntary. "And don't even try to deny it. Just tell me what's wrong." He sighs heavily, running a hand through his messy hair, before he actually speaks, this time his tone appears to be calm and mild for her. "Just man stuff, nothing important." "Of course it's important, since it occupies your mind so much that you cannot fall asleep," she tries to convince him again, curious about the cause of his current mood. "It's nothing, really," he cuts, wanting to end up the conversation right here, since he can't tell her the truth, it would be embarrassing at least, plus she would probably reject him anyway... so what's the point here? "Fine, if you say so," she finally gives up, letting him keep the truth to himself, but she has a slight suspect that he will tell her sooner or later. Both of them remain silent for a while, just enjoying the chilly night, staring at the bright neon sign that says 'lotus motel' - what a terrible name, she thinks, before she looks aside, meeting his piercing, dark eyes. The pink light hits his face from the certain angle, emphasizing the high cheekbones along with the hollowed cheeks and sharp jawline, making him look almost like some kind of mystical creature - isn't it a bit odd? "What are you looking at?" He asks, his voice somehow fades in the distance, joining the police sirens and drunken shouts - Los Angeles is such a wonderful city. "Nothing," she smiles slightly, looking back at the 'lotus' neon sign which is now missing the letter 's'; seems like everything is broken here. "God, I'm freezing." "Come here," he lifts his arm from the railing, making some room for her to step closer to his body, which she gladly accepts, snuggling to his side, letting him embrace her. "Oh my God, you're so warm," she practically moans, pressing even closer to him, searching for more of the pleasant heat. The sound she makes, causes him to shiver as a wave of new desire washes through his body, and he literally fights the urge to bend her over the railing and fuck her roughly from behind; she has no idea how much he wants her right now. "Johnny?" She says shyly, dropping her sight to the ground as a bashful blush spreads over her cheeks, but luckily he's not able to see it because of the pink neon light that illuminates her face. "Can I ask you a question?" "Go on, love," he replies, in one hand silently pleading Fabienne to ask him to take her any way he wants in that sweet voice of hers, but in other hand he's afraid that she might actually do it, and that would kill him, not literally though; he's never been so sexually frustrated in his whole life, torn between holding his temper and letting his fantasies take over his mind. "Can we go to your room?" She asks, and he swears that he's just felt his dick swell in the tightness of the boxers; oh my fuck, is it really happening? "We could watch the movie or just talk, since we won't probably fall asleep either way." "Well," he clears his throat, before resuming. "I don't think there's anything sensible to watch in the middle of the night." "So that leaves us with the second option," she smiles briefly, getting out of his embrace, waiting for him to lead her to the room. "Not that I mind though," he copies her smile, taking her hand into his, making the girl shiver at the contact of his heated skin upon her cold one, gently pulling her to the nearest door, before he pushes them open, and lets her inside. She flops down on the bed, since there's no spare couch to sit on, and he joins her there. It takes both of them a few moments to get comfy underneath the blanket with their backs supported on the headboard, and not longer after he has her snuggled close to him with her head in the crook of his neck. "It really meant something to me," she breaks the silence, making him frown in confusion; she can't be up to it, can she? "You know, the kiss." This is when he actually chokes on the air, since she can't be serious, she just can't be, like what the fuck? "What?" He asks, a bit dazed but only for a split second, then the smug smirk paints over his handsome face, the lusful glint in his eyes is also back as soon as he looks down to meet her nervous, yet curious gaze. "You mean the way my underwear was rubbing your soaked cunt?" She gasps in shock, looking at him with wide eyes, her mouth forms in an o-shape, bringing the lewdest thoughts to his mind; he couldn't just have said that, right? "You didn't," she only manages to utter. "Oh c'mon honey, there's no point in lying since both of us know the truth," he murmurs, using that deep voice of his that causes her insides to flutter with lust, probably knowing the affect it has on her anyway. "Then enlighten me, what's the truth?" She teases, fighting the urge to taste the skin of his perfectly exposed neck - let's save it for later. "The truth is that you've wanted me since the first time you laid your eyes on me," he admits without a single hesitation - what a cheeky bastard. "The same thing can be said about you," she murmurs under her breath, whispering the words into his ear, the sexy purr wipes the last bits of self-control and causes him to drown deep in lust, letting it take over his senses, his mind, his whole being. He wants to take her right now, right here, on the cheap bed in the dirty motel room with thin walls, making her scream his name so loud that anyone in here will know to whom she belongs. He wastes no time in pulling her to straddle him; wow, that escalated kinda quickly, she thinks, taking in the sight of his flushed face, eyes wide, laced with desire, and all he's doing is staring at her, so shamelessly, as if he knew she's already wet, even though he barely touched her, as if he knew about her hunger, her cravings, her fantasies. She feels naked, bare in front of him, but she loves the burning gaze upon her heated skin, the way he looks at her makes her feel as if she was the only woman in the world, wondering how come he's made her this horny without doing anything. "Johnny," she moans urgently, as she slowly begins to rub herself into his body, taking a sharp inhale at the feeling of the material rubbing her tingling pussy. "Touch me, please." Without waiting for the confirmation, she takes his hand and drags it between her legs, making him gasp when his fingers contact with the wet mark. He teases her entrance through the panties, knowing that the friction caused by the thin cotton is driving her crazy - he can feel her tightening the grip around his arms, so he moves up, tracing the slit with his index finger, stoping once he reaches the tiny, swollen nub that longs for attention. She lets out another needy moan, arching a little bit to his touch, her lips parting slightly, and eyes closing in bliss - the animalistic need to be filled up appears as intoxicating, burning, painful, but also sweet, neverending torture. "Touch me," she repeats more demandingly this time, but even thought it's foolish to believe he will obey, he makes an exception for her to his own surprise, and lets his hand slip into her panties, gasping when they introduce with the generous amount of slickness. She feels nice indeed, velvety, warm and totally soaked against the pads of his fingers as he uses them to brush her slit just barely, feather-likely almost, tickling the frustrated girl who is currently trying to hump his hand like a needy bitch, like a needy bitch she is. "Tell me," he presses down on the clit, making her release a pitchy squeal. "Who's made you this wet?" "You made me this wet," she answers, barely able to make up a simple sentence, the only word that keeps banging in her head is the simplest, most predictable 'fuck'. "Please, I can't." "Can't what, sugar?" He smirks, watching her writhing on his lap, silently begging him to release her from the torture, but he doesn't find that particular thing satisfying enough, he wants her to say it, to admit how bad she wants him, how bad she needs him. "Can't take it," she whimpers, on the edge of crying out of the sexual frustration, out of the desperate need to be fucked, she's so ridiculously sensitive at this point that even the slightest touches send shivers down her spine. "What am I supposed to do then?" He asks, deciding to drag this game for a little longer until she will agree to do literally anything to get the treat. "First take off my panties," she somehow manages to regain her composure, but she knows it won't take long until she looses it completely. "Then take me, take me exactly as you please." Without a word, he hooks his fingers in the elastic waist band of her panties, silently signaling the girl to lift up, and as soon as she does so, he removes them completely, dropping them on the floor afterwards, her shirt following right after. "Show me how you like it," he murmurs, dragging his tongue over the shell of her ear, making Fabienne whimper his name in such a needy way that it breaks something within him, releasing something almost primal, animalistic, sinister even, which would normally scare him, but not now, not when he's so fixated on fucking the precious girl that has been on his mind for quite a while. He wants to fuck her, like roughly, to hear her sweet moans, quiet gasps, desperate begs, since the only thing that occupies him mind now is how tight, how wet, how warm, and most of all how good she will feel around him, because she certainly will, there's no doubt about it. "You know how I do," she says, and for once she's right - he knows it perfectly. She whines when he finally drags his fingers up and down her slit, circling her clit slowly at first, then building up the pace, until he has her writhing on his lap, rubbing against his hand in a desperate need to get herself off, and he watches her, fascinated by the way her breasts sway from side to side, accompanying the sensual movements, her skin soaked in the pink light from the outside, making it almost glow - she's so pretty. He feels her leaking on his palm as he smears the juices on her inner thighs, teasing the girl a little bit, enjoying her moaning his name a couple of times, begging him to touch her again, and soon he slides his fingers between her legs again, this time slipping two of them inside, making her squeal both because the stinging stretching and final relief that washes over her. "Turn around," he orders, wanting to make her get into a bit more comfortable position, since he can feel her arms trembling with effort of holding herself up straight. She, without any questions, does as he asks her to, settling herself between his slightly spread legs, his hand soon finds its place back between her thighs, and she leans back, laying her head on his chest, arching to his touch, her eyelids falling shut. "Love," he whispers, his raspy voice sending chills down her spine. "Open your eyes." She forces herself to do it, and her breath hitches when she looks straight ahead where a huge mirror is standing by the wall, taking in the sight of her bare body covered in the thin layer of sweat, shaking thighs, and mostly his hand tucked between them, pleasuring her; but that was before their eyes meet through the mirror. He looks at her, the eye contact never breaking as his other hand moves up, caressing the side of her breast, before moving up to her pierced nipple, pinching and twisting the hardening nub until she yelps in pain and grabs his forearm, the urge to squeeze something appears when he hits the one particular spot inside her that makes the girl shiver in bliss. She can feel his hardness poking her back, and the thought that it's because of her, only for her, causes a new wave of heat to wash through her body, a new amount of wetness to leak on his fingers. "Look at you," he groans, their eyes still locked through the mirror, when she starts to grind her hips, applying pressure on his throbbing dick - she has no idea how much he wants to fuck her right now. "You're making such mess here. I bet you've never been this wet, am I right?" She nods, but he doesn't need her confirmation, which only fuels his obscene part of personality, now on full display. "You're such a needy bitch, aren't you Fabienne? I was always wondering if you were touching yourself, imagining that I was the one pleasuring you. Tell me, sugar." She can't utter a word after his little speech, blushing like crazy due to the feeling of exposure and embarrassment, bashfully dropping her sight, not able to answer him. "Sweetie, there's nothing to be ashamed of," he encourages her, despite knowing the truth, but he wants her to say it, and she's more than aware of that, so she looks up again, meeting his dark eyes. "Yes I was," she admits almost innocently, but both of them know she's far from innocent. "Doing what?" He raises a single brow, not even bothering to hide the smug smirk dancing upon his lips - what a cheeky bastard. "Touching myself, imagining that you were the one pleasuring me," she finishes without a single hesitation, as if she was challenging him which is true at some point. She's about to say something, but before she gets a chance to continue, he tugs her head back by the hair, joining their lips for a bruising kiss, tongues lapping hungrily at each other. She whimpers, sound muffled by his greedy mouth, long nails scratching his forearm, digging into his skin, surely leaving bruises, but he doesn't care, since the only thing that occupies his mind now is to make her cum. He rubs the swollen nub in fast, harsh circles, still using his other fingers to tease her inner walls, and the combination of both sends her over the edge. She moans, bucking her hips like crazy as the orgasm washes through her body in hot, powerful waves, leaving her gasping for air, tossing from side to side with her eyes closed. He caresses her pulsing folds for a little while, waiting for her to come down, before he removes his hand from its previous place, bringing it up to his lips to lick it clean from any traces of the arousal. He laps up at his fingers, savoring the taste in his mouth, with his other arm wrapped around the girl's waist, the girl who is currently curled up on his lap, nuzzling her head into his shoulder, already exhausted from her previous orgasm, which is nothing compering to what awaits her. Her thighs are slick with arousal, her clit sore, her mind dizzy, already anticipating for more, for much much more... Suddenly he motions her to move over, and she whines, clutching tighter onto his shirt, hugging his arm, trying to force him to stay, but he doesn't seem to care when he lifts her from his lap, setting the girl aside. "Where are you going?" She asks, gently taking his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together, and he glances at Fabienne, before he lets her go, making the girl pout adorably. "Nowhere," he shrugs his shoulder, flashing her a small smile. "Just getting rid of my clothes, since they might get in the way, you know." She can't help but look away, as she feels her cheeks burning again that night; how come she literaly just orgasmed in front of him, and blushes because she will see him naked? Weird. He slowly removes his T-shirt, dropping it on the floor where it joins her clothing, underwear following right after, leaving himself exposed to her praying eyes, giving her a few seconds to take in the image of his bare body - he looks stunning iluminated by the neon light, even though she can't see most of the details in the dim light. He wastes no time in joining her, the mattress dips slightly because of his weight as he does so, and pulls her to straddle him, resting his hands on her round hips, pressing their crotches together. They moan in unison when his dick slides between her folds, getting engulfed by her heat pleasantly, applying a little bit of friction to her swollen clit. "Johnny," she mewls, already willing to be filled up, her inner walls tensing uncomfortably around nothing. "I need you inside." "I know you do," he smirks, eyes glinting with lust, as he reaches to brush his finger over her clit, making her let out a quiet gasp. "You're soaked." But the truth is that he needs to be inside her too, like right, fucking now, and he isn't sure if he can wait any longer, so he grabs her by the shoulder, yanking her to the side, and rolls on top of her slim body, smirking when she squeals in surprise. He looks at her, searching for a silent confirmation in her eyes that are now huge and teary, and she nods her head slightly, begging him to take her right here, right now. He can sense her need, desperate and vulnerable, so decides to stop teasing her, and lines himself with the entrance, sliding in one, rapid movement that takes her breath away for a brief moment. She cries in pain, as a few hot tears leak from the corners of her eyes, disappearing in the mass of hair scattered over the pillow. He feels her pulsing around him, squeezing him tightly enough that he has to fight the urge to let go, since it would be... well, embarrassing at least, forasmuch he's not a teenager anymore. He gives her a few seconds to recover from the uncomfortable stinging, before he withdraws almost all the way, only to slams back in roughly, making her scream his name and dig her nails into his back, leaving red welts as she drags them down. He hisses through gritted teeth, closing his eyes, and nuzzling his head in the crook of her neck, licking and biting at her heated skin, until she starts trembling violently, moaning louder, gripping tighter. She wraps her legs around his taut waist, moving them higher and lower, until she finds a perfect angle for him to reach deeper inside her, giving him perfect opportunity to hit all those spots that make her shiver in bliss. "Johnny," she moans, arching her back from the hard mattress, throwing her breasts up in the air, and he watches them, mesmerized by the barely noticeable bounce. "Please, harder." "Legs up my shoulders," he orders simply, but the proposition scares her somehow which he can easily tell by the confused look she gives him. "Trust me, it's gonna feel really good." Hesitantly, she unwraps her legs from his waist, sighing contently, as he runs his hands up and down her bare calves in a soothing manner, before she actually let him help her to place them over his shoulders. She bites her lip, shutting her eyes tightly as she feels him brushing a newfound spot inside her, a spot that she's not known about until now, so sensitive that even the slightest touch leaves her body tingling deliciously. She mindlessly crosses her legs at the ankles, her nails raking down his chest ever so lightly which is driving him crazy, and he can't help but close his eyes, letting himself drown deeper in all those little sensations he's receiving from her, starting with the scratching and ending up with her pussy gripping him tightly - almost too much to handle. Suddenly he moves inside her, the exact same movement he made before, but it feels so different now, it feels... heavenly. She lets out a particular reedy feminine whine, the one that makes him groan deeply right after, without even realizing it, the sound causes her skin to heat up even more - he sounds so, so... incredibly erotic. He takes a firm hold on her shoulders to steady himself, clutching the flesh with a little bit more force than intended, but neither of them care or notice, since the pain only intensifies her experiences. "Fuck, baby," he groans, his face adorned in a look of utter bliss, all because of her, which she finds almost equally ravishing as sex. "You have no idea how bad I've wanted to have you like this, spread out for me, and so wet, so fucking wet, you have no idea, no fucking idea, I-" He interrupts himself with a husky growl, probably loud enough to be heard in the contiguous rooms, let alone the banging of the headboard on the cheap motel wall, that almost becomes the cause of knocking out the equally cheap and ugly picture which is hanging there. She's close, so close that she can practically taste it, and he knows it perfectly, so he decides to speed up the process a little bit, since he obviously wants her to be the first to reach her height. He praises her, telling her how tight she is, how good she makes him feel, how close he is, and she can't help but release a moan that has been bubbling in her throat for a little while, which combained with his thumb rubbing her swollen clit, sends her over the edge one more time that night. She cries out his name as her orgasm rips through her so hard that she looses her breath, and the way her pussy grips his throbbing dick turns out to be enough for him to reach his own height, his mouth falls open in a silent scream of desire, his muscles tensing as he gives her a few more sloppy thrusts, before he pulls out slowly, making both of them let out a sharp hiss. He rolls over to the side, leaving her cold on her side of the bed, but she's too weak to join him since her muscles feel wobbly, some of them even burning, and she's not sure whether she's able to get up by now - probably not. He just lays there with one arm tucked under his head, trying to catch his breath, body soaked in early sunlight from the dawn, shining due to the thin layer of sweat, the welts on his back stinging uncomfortably as the material applies a little bit of pressure to them, so he rolls onto his side, supporting his head on the left hand, so that he's able to watch her. He gently strokes up and down her stomach, making the girl mewl sweetly, as his hand travels up her chest and between her breasts, watching how they rise and fall in time with her breaths, before he moves up, noticing the bruised neck and cleavage, along with her shoulders, pussy probably sore, and he can't help but somehow feel sorry for her, but she obviously doesn't think about it that way. Abruptly she changes the position to lie on her side, letting him spoon her from behind, engulfing herself in his pleasant heat, nearly moaning at how good it feels. "Let's take a day off today," he murmurs into her hair, his hot breath ticklish yet pleasant upon her skin. "Yeah, let's take a day off," she insists, already fond of the idea, because damn, just imagine that - a whole day with Johnny in his motel room doing God knows what... "Good," he mutters, smile audible in his voice. "I'll call them later." "No you won't," she shakes her head involuntary, stealing a glance on his hand draped loosely around her waist. "No I won't, but they can fire me, I don't care," he smirks, just thinking about how much money it would require to remake the whole film with a different actor - they won't fire him, it's impossible...well, at least in these particular circumstances. "Johnny?" she asks abruptly, the way she speaks his name implies as if she was about to say something serious, which somehow makes him feel a little bit anxious. "Where's the blanket?" "Oh my fuck," he sighs in relief. "I thought you were gonna say that I've hurt you or something." "What?" She giggles. "Of course not, unless you won't give me the blanket." As soon as she repeats her request, he tugs at the covers, pulling them atop their cool bodies, grazing his fingers over her thigh lingeringly as he does so, causing the girl to shiver due to the gentle touch upon her skin. "Better?" He asks, before placing a soft kiss on the exposed skin of her neck. "Better," she mumbles, closing her eyes and letting him embrace her from behind again. "Thank you Johnny." "For what?" He barely whispers, voice groggy with sleep which somehow makes her smile - he's so cute when he's tired. "For everything," she replies dream-likely, tenderly, but also sleepily, since she's exhausted too. "My pleasure," he teases, making her giggle like a teenager, which he finds completely and utterly adorable, even though the girlish sound she's just made causes her to cringe involuntary. "Sure it's yours," she mocks in a playful tone, rolling her eyes at him, even though he can't really see it. "So you weren't enjoying yourself, sugar?" He whispers into her ear, using that deep voice of his that makes her heart beat faster and her body heat up - oh my God, what is he doing to her? "In fact I was enjoying myself very much, so I guess the pleasure is mine too," she gives in, since well... who would resist someone like him? "But I'm tired, or should I say exhausted, and since I would-" "You mean goodnight?" "Yeah," she chuckles. "But I didn't want to interrupt the conversation so rudely, and-" "It's okay, love," his lips curve into a smile against her skin, letting her feel it perfectly. "Goodnight." "Goodnight," she answers, which turns out to be the last word shared between the lovers, before both of them drift into one of the most peaceful and carefree sleeps they have ever experienced...

#johnny depp #johnny #depp #imagines #oneshot #fanfiction #smut #smut imagines #one shot collection #80s #90s #00s

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