#the only one i think still doesn’t hate me had no problem texting in the group chat i’m not fucking in with everyone but me while i was

[stunfiskz]

#txt #erm….. tonight is not good today was not good. #got even more confirmation that my friends hate me so that’s nice. #the only one i think still doesn’t hate me had no problem texting in the group chat i’m not fucking in with everyone but me while i was #right there. and telling me about it. so. #and i now know at least one of them hates me and thinks i hate them. but i don’t and i feel so bad because i know i’m horrible at talking. #i know. i know i’m a horrible person to try to talk to because i’m selfish and annoying and say the wrong things and i know. i didn’t mean #to make them feel uncomfortable but i can’t just be a fucking normal person #i really can’t stand this anymore i really can’t #i’d rather them all just stop talking to me and for me to be solidly alone instead of this horrible fucking standstill #i know. i know i’m a horrible person. i know they don’t love me and i know i don’t deserve for them to love me so why are they pretending #like they still do. #im just so tired of this i’m so tired of having to exist in this stupid fucking world where i know i’m awful and can’t do anything right an #don’t deserve to be able to. #and i feel so bad because the girl i’ve been helping in one of my classes is going to fail. and i feel like if i could just be better or h #have started helping her earlier or stood up for her to the teacher she wouldn’t. but instead i have to be horrible at comforting people #and have to try to comfort her while she’s sobbing because her parents aren’t going to let her drive #and i just feel so awful #im so awful my school is so awful i don’t want to fucking be here. #i cannot wait for the year to be over at least i can be alone in my room and not have to annoy anyone or hurt anyone #well i still probably will because that’s just how i fuckign am but. hopefully less . #anyways gonna rewatch some more glee i guess

[heliads]

Can I pretty please request Carlos Sainz x reader where she’s rly shy and gets worried that maybe he wants someone more outgoing but he tells her he loves her any way she is? Your writing is amazing 🫶🏻

anon i love you wholeheartedly please let me speak on carlos

masterlist

You are not who you are supposed to be. There are qualifications for being the girlfriend of a Formula One driver, you’re sure of it, probably even a style guide somewhere if you only bothered to look it up. Perfect hair. Clean makeup. Pretty, but doesn’t try too hard. Willing to give up their whole life to follow one man on mad jaunts across the planet. Wherever your guidebook is, though, you must have lost it long ago, because you have absolutely no idea what you’re doing, and worst of all, it’s starting to show.

You never should have gotten into this position in the first place. That isn’t to say that you hate it, far from it; dating Carlos Sainz is the best thing that ever happened to you, making you the happiest wrong person at the right time to ever exist. In every other universe, he’s probably seeing models or actresses, but here, he has you, and you’re willing to fight off every multiversal version of you just to keep everything as it is right now.

Your butterfly effect was quite stunning, actually. You ended up getting tickets to a Grand Prix through last minute cancellations. They were great, came with paddock passes and all that, and while you were lingering through Ferrari hospitality, Carlos happened to drop by to visit a friend and he noticed you while you were in line to get some water. He’s got the confidence of, well, a world class athlete, an adrenaline junkie, a professional race car driver, and so he introduced himself.

Sometimes, it’s just as easy as that. A father’s cousin’s roommate buys two tickets to a Grand Prix, then a stranger’s roommate’s brother gets sick, and suddenly you’re touching down off a plane overseas and walking through the door of paddock hospitality. You wear red, and you are seen. Just like that.

It took one more weekend before either of you knew that you wanted what you had to last for good. He texted you, followed you on Instagram and blew his cover of seeming cool by accidentally liking a post of yours from six years ago. And, when he saw you again, he knew that he wanted the spark between you to be something more, something like a bonfire.

Coincidence may have supported you thus far, but you don’t trust it not to abandon you. At the end of the day, you are you, you are Y/N L/N, and you are so far removed from Carlos’ world that it stuns you to think that you were even in his orbit so long as to meet him. If there are powers that be somewhere in the universe, they’re either playing a cruel joke or messing around to give you a helping hand. 

Hopefully, it’ll be the latter, but truly who knows at this point. As if it wasn’t surreal enough to introduce Carlos to your friends and family as Carlos Sainz, Formula One driver. As if it doesn’t blow your minds that people have started making Instagram accounts just dedicated to posting photos of you and your boyfriend whenever you’re seen out together.

The problem lies in the insanity of it all. You are not from this sort of life, you weren’t born into a silver spoon dynasty and you barely know how to interact with any of them now. You get along with the other WAGs as best you can; Heidi’s lovely, sure, and you were friendly with Charlotte until she disappeared, but sometimes it feels like it’s just you and your boyfriend against the world. Of any ally to pick, Carlos would be your top choice each and every time, but still. The fact remains that he will go out and race and leave you to your own devices, and you lack the extroverted impulses to social climb with everyone else.

This, then, is the main concern. You can pick out whatever designer clothes you want, goodness knows Carlos has offered to buy you anything already, and you can get your nails and hair done before each and every race, but that doesn’t change the fact that you, at your core, are never going to enjoy the paparazzi circus whenever you have to brave it.

It’s just not your scene, that’s all. You’re on the quieter side, happy to spend time with a few key friends but increasingly nervous in large crowds. Formula One is all large crowds, as you’ve discovered; thousands of fans, hundreds of engineers and team members, plus drivers and girlfriends and best friends. So many eyes, all on you. So many voices all shouting over each other.

You love Carlos, though, and you love him wholeheartedly, so you gather up your courage and go to race weekends when you can. Every time Carlos sees you in the crowd, he smiles so widely his friends tease him for weeks, and he runs to you first after every podium and strong finish. You want to be there for your boyfriend, truly you do, you just wonder if all of this should come easier to you than it does.

Also, you wonder if Carlos wishes the same thing. He has been nothing but perfect to you, so the spirals of guilt currently tangling their way through your insides are purely of your own creation, but what if he truly does think like that? Carlos must see the other WAGs, how they shine and sparkle with attention instead of feeling the urge to run. Wouldn’t he want that? Wouldn’t he get frustrated that you can’t be like the rest?

Thousands of girls in the world, and he picks you. You don’t know if it’s sweet or genuinely frightening. He wanted you out of everyone, yes, but he could replace you in a snap, swapping you out like some useless part on his car. There is nothing about you that cannot be replicated in any other girl. Even Charles did it, in a way, got himself a new girlfriend that’s a dead ringer for Charlotte. Carlos has no reason to keep you except for something he knows and you don’t.

The guessing will drive you mad, maybe, but you’ll lose your sanity long before that just trying to keep up with everything in his fast-paced life. You’ve been to prior F1 races, obviously, it’s how you met Carlos in the first place and it’s also how you kept him, but this upcoming weekend is different, this is Barcelona. Carlos is the center of attention at his home race, and every step he takes, a new storm of people is flooding in to ask him for autographs, selfies, anything to remind them that he’s real and right before their eyes.

Carlos doesn’t ask for a whole lot, and he certainly didn’t force you to come to this race, but you saw the hope in his dark eyes when he brought it up oh-so-casually at a dinner last week. You had assured him that you would go there to cheer him on along with the rest of his home crowd, and Carlos had been delighted for the rest of the evening.

You are happy to go, truly, but it’s taking everything in you to keep your smile up in front of the reporters and crowds and fans, and it’s just the first day. All you’re handling right now is qualifying, not even the actual race. In the back of your mind, a voice whispers that it’s only going to get worse from here on out, but when Carlos looks back at you as you wind through the paddock, you just smile and tell him you’re glad to be there with him. You’re here for him, after all, and Carlos is busy enough with race stuff that he won’t want to hear your complaints.

That’s what you keep repeating to yourself throughout the entirety of that day. Carlos qualifies well and is properly pleased about it, as he should be. The possibility of a podium or perhaps even a win for his home race has been one of his top goals for the season, and he’s as close as he can get to it right now. He earnestly talks about it the whole drive back to your hotel, but once you’re back in the safety and peace of the room, the conversation abruptly switches back to you.

Carlos sheds his jacket at the door, watches you flop down onto the bed with a smile on his face, then asks you pointedly, “And how are you doing, amor?”

You smile back at him, the expression trained to perfection after being tested so many times today. “Great! Glad that everything’s going so well for you. I’ll be cheering for P1 tomorrow.”

In truth, you’re tired more than anything. People kept coming up to you all day, assuming that taking a selfie with Carlos’ girlfriend was at least half as good as getting to see him. They gave you all manner of gifts and things to give to him, extracting promises that you’d tell him dozens of different people wished him well. You knew you’d get a lot more attention when you started dating Carlos, but the lack of personal space and privacy at the races is truly unlike anything you’d experienced before.

Carlos has been dating you long enough to pick up on this, apparently, because he furrows his brow and sits down on the edge of the bed next to you. “I’ll be glad to see you tomorrow, but do you want to tell me what is really on your mind? Don’t try to tell me otherwise. I know you, no?”

You sigh, covering your face with one of your arms. Carlos deflects from this attempt to hide by gently pulling your arm away, pressing a kiss to your forehead to make up for it. “Talk to me, cariño.”

You look sorrowfully at him, but when it becomes clear that Carlos won’t let you go until you confess, you give in. “It’s just a lot, I guess. The people and the cameras and everything.”

Carlos frowns. “I can get them to go away, you know that. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

You look away. “I just thought you wouldn’t want to hear it. All of the other girlfriends have no problem with it, just me. I thought you’d want me to be more outgoing, so I tried, I really did, it’s just hard for me, I don’t know why.”

When you dare to risk a glance up at Carlos, you’re surprised to notice that he looks genuinely hurt. “Sweetheart, you didn’t think that I would actually be unhappy about that? I just want you to be happy. Don’t think about me.”

You let out a low breath. “I know, it’s just– I want to be like the rest, really. I don’t want this to be a reason–”

You cut yourself off, distracted by Carlos’ hands still wrapped around yours. Carlos picks up on the obviously dropped subject, though, and looks at you with fresh concern. “You don’t want it to be a reason for what?”

“That you would break up with me,” you whisper.

That’s it, then. That’s the truth. If you can’t live with Carlos’ lifestyle, why wouldn’t he leave you for someone who could? It makes perfect sense to you, but judging by Carlos’ expression, that logic couldn’t be further from his mind.

“No, Y/N,” he says, “That’s not right at all. I don’t want to break up with you, like, ever. Not because of this. I don’t want someone else, I want you. I love you, querida. I love the girl who showed up out of nowhere and made me forget about every other woman in the world. I love the girl who shows up to my home race even though it stresses her out because she wants to be there for me. I love you, Y/N. No one else. Just you.”

And, well, in the face of such passionate declarations, who could stand firm in their own self-pity? Certainly not you. You smile and let him kiss you again and again until you can’t see straight, and after that it is better, it is all better. Hearing it straight from Carlos is better than trying to guess at it. It lets your worries finally sink off into nothingness. It’s just you and him, just what he wants. Just what you want.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz imagines #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz oneshot #f1 #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 oneshot #formula one #formula one imagines #formula one x reader #formula one oneshot #f1 carlos #f1 carlos imagines #f1 carlos x reader #f1 carlos oneshot

[flynnriderishot]

tattoo pt. 2 - m.s

matt was starting to regret listening to chris’ words and messaging you to ask you to hang out. if he hadn’t seen that you read his message, he would’ve simply thought you hadn’t noticed it.

on one hand, he wanted to believe that you read it, freaked out and forgot to text back. or maybe you read his text and thought you texted back (i do that all the time).

he thought maybe you decided to take a break from social media for a while, except that wasn’t true as you’d been posting on your story for the last two days.

all you said was that you found him cute. why on earth did he think that could’ve meant more?

it had been a while since he went on a date or even gained the courage to speak to a girl and you not answering was what made him realize why he hadn’t.

what matt didn’t know was that you’d been thinking about texting him back from the moment you saw his request to hang out. in fact, you’ve deleted and retyped your response one too many times. it shouldn’t have been that hard to simply agree to hanging out with him.

only it was.

it only took nick a few hours to edit and post the video they did that included you (i know this is unrealistic but bare with me 😭) and after reading the comments on the video, it was safe to say that the triplet’s fans weren’t very fond of matt’s little liking towards you.

truthfully, you’d stop caring how others felt about you long ago, quickly becoming aware that people on social took an idea and ran with it. which, in this case, the rumor of you being a literal asshole had spread like wildfire and people chose to believe it without hardcore proof.

you had no problem going on a date with matt. you didn’t really know him outside his youtube videos and wouldn’t mind getting to know how he truly was. that was the issue, though. you not knowing how he was.

you didn’t know if he could handle the unnecessary hate that would come from simply being in your presence. you were almost certain that he didn’t read his youtube comments or else he might’ve mentioned that to you by now.

you were currently going back and forth with chris on instagram, the youngest triple trying to convince you that the comments were just what people thought you were, they had no clue who you truly were and the only person that could be the judge of that is matt.

just go on a date with him dude.

i’m trying to protect your brother, dude.

my brother doesn’t need protection from you. he has me and nick for that. what he needs from you is a response to his text so he can stop spiraling out of control. you like him don’t you?

i don’t know him enough to like him, chris.

which further proves my point.

which is?

you could get to know him if you went on a date with him.

come on y/n.

this is coming from his triple brothers. if we didn’t think he could handle being with you, we wouldn’t be encouraging it.

that was nick btw^

i figured, chris doesn’t text like that.

that sounded rude 🙄

just give him a chance. one chance.

you sighed, phone falling to your chest as you stared at the ceiling.

they weren’t wrong. you wouldn’t get to know matt if you didn’t try. and you truly believed that as his brothers, triplets or not, they wouldn’t be pleading for you to hang out with him if they didn’t trust you.

after a few more seconds of thinking, you opened yours and matt’s messages.

??

sorry, got a bit busy. is the offer still there?

ew, you thought, shaking your head at the way that sounded.

matt responded almost instantly.

no worries :)

of course the offers still there. what do you wanna do?

how do you feel about bowling?

#matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo

[queenofallimagines]

Oooh I have a Obey Me writing idea for you but you can ignore if you don’t wanna do it. So when you first come to the Devildom, almost all of the brothers are cold/petty asf to the MC (in my Pisces opinion). Imagine MC’s like “fuck that” and doesn’t try to pander to them as much as the game script wants you to. Like the story still progresses bc the MC is still nosy when it counts, but she doesn’t center them around her world and instead gets closer someone who was nicer/more helpful in the beginning (say like Solomon or Simeon). I’m sorryyy I’m not hating on the brothers but realistically you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Like yeah being a tsundere is cute to an extent but most of em were doing too much in the beginning. Maybe a reaction from the brothers (doesn’t have to be specific for each brother) as they slowly start to warm up to MC but they can’t stand that they’re not gonna be as close as they wanted to be. And either Solomon or Simeon (or both) reacting to you getting closer to them ;) Again this request may be highly specific so you can either tweak it or toss it if it doesn’t sound appealing to write. It can be SFW or NSFW. I love your writing!

A/n: YOURE SO RIGHT BESTIE!! Like the dick ain’t good enough for them to be all over MC like that CRAZY disrespectful 😒 like in my head I was being fake nice to them to secure the pacts until like you make one with Satan and then it’s like okay, maybe I can be genuine w yall. Bc like I’m making friends w any of the billions of other demons there like Diavolo is all but head over heels for you.

MC:

- I’m so on board with this

- Like if they want to go low I can take it right to hell

- They want to throw UP

- Mammon thinks you’re joking but when you fr never come ask him for help he’s crying himself to sleep

- Asmo hates being ignored so after that time in the maze(catacombs? wtf was those) he’s antsy that you don’t really talk to him

- They feel you having fun through your pacts but when you’re around just them it’s like nothing

- Like when a lightbulb dies

- Student council meetings become increasingly more tense as they watch you get along with Solomon and Luke and Simeon and you’re cold to them

- They don’t even really realize they the problem at first

- Lucifer always itching to punish someone so when he snaps at you and you clapback and the issue never comes up again he’s a little disappointed

- Like him and Satan make fun of your grades?

- Bet. you’re being tutored by Solomon and a demon in your potions class

- Like bitch how the FUCK were we ever supposed to take demon philosophy before?? We just got here!!

- Refuse to work with them on any school activities

- You and mammon partnered up to decorate for some school event?

- You work only when he’s not around

- Beel is the one who sounds the alarm by realizing it’s hard to keep track of you

- Like he’ll go asking where you are and nobody can even say when the last time they saw you was

- Belphagor tried to pull that “I’m a human” shit and you didn’t visit the attic for like three weeks😭

- Had to actually force himself to be genuinely nice

- Remember how they said they sent a demon to like the human realm to pretty much do the same thing? who was that because I don’t think we ever hear about them😭

- But you get their number and talk about your shared experiences

- Fish out of water if you will!

- Lucifer WANTS to yell but you do the bare minimum of what they ask he can’t mandate you to join family movie night😔

- Asks a pouting mammon where tf you are and he lists off like any number of random demons you could be chilling with

- Asmo is burning with envy as he catches you at a party with a group of old acquaintinces

- Can see they are so obviously enjoying your company

- Tries to steal the attention for himself

- Levi seeing you on other mfs socials cosplaying w them and doing a TSL marathon like he’s right there??

- Dinner be so awkward but you brush it off like a G

- only texts the family group chat for confirmation, dinners ready, and when is lord diavolo asking for everyone

- Lucifer comes to Dia’s house bc paperwork and he plans to spill the tea when he sees you and him already HAVING TEA🤨

- Like excuse me??

- “Ah just who I was looking for-“

- “Sorry Lucifer I have exams to study for I was just asking Lord Diavolo some history questions I’ll be on my way.”

- He’s literally WILTING💀

- Whines to Dia and he’s like I’m sorry ?? have yall not been spending time with them??

- “Yall….LIVE together. I ain’t out just you and them in the same house for no reason??”

- He can’t eleven rly do shit bc you’re integrating into demon society very well and are pretty sociable

- Like you gain regular popularity but not through them

- Rest of RAD forgets you’re under their protection tbh

- Like you’re your own entity and not at all attached to them so when a random demon is caught talking about like chilling w you and mammon is like IM THEIR FIRST MAN YOU GOTTA AS ME

- he looses about 500 years when the demon goes

- “Oh yeah you are their hired help huh?”

- Yeah he’s picking out a coffin

- Bc he rly tries to curb his tsun behaviors but he hasn’t made it to that level with you where he can be genuine in private

- Levi too like he calls you a stupid normie on reflex and is whimpering when he sees he’s been blocked on devilgram

- What did yall expect??

- Beel is the ONLY one who you regularly talk to

- And even then he’s got his own stuff going on

- But you guys always eat together

- Jaws dropping when he offered you food

- I imagine Beel is like “oh they don’t be talking to yall?….That’s crazy”

- Precious boy so unaware of the conflict

- Nor bc he’s dumb but he’s like “tf that got to do with me?? MC likes me.”

- Very “okay what does that mean to me tho” energy

- I imagine after the Levi pact arc when mammon is wrapping your sprained wrist and he’s all

- “If I can’t come save ya next time, Die.”

- You pull away completely

- Even Satan is having to control himself be he sees your purposefully avoiding him

- He would congratulate you on how well you’re dodging his advances if it didn’t piss him off so bad

- Keeps it a little secret to himself that he can feel your pact mark burning right under his skin whenever you talk to them

- Played hot and cold to see how he can make you less mad when he interacts with you

- Lucifer is so desperate he’s fr about to make a pact early to feel any sort of proof you exist

- Idk if peacocks do it but you know how birds will rip out their own feathers under stress?

- Yeah That’s HIM😭

- Barbados just sit back and observe

- Even the season 3(?) characters come in early! Like you meet 13 as an extension of Solomon and y’all are thick as thieves

- You’re flourishing in your Magic practices bc you still have their pacts, them helping you with magic or not you’re still not one to be fucked with

- Mephistopheles is so giddy that you’re close to him and not Lucifer

- Offers to hide you in his news room to avoid them

- “It’s so quiet a perfect place to study!”

- Sees them scrambling to get ahold of you but your in his office w your phone on silent

- “Oh hmmm, idk I saw them in the forbidden section of the library maybe check there? Weird y’all supposed to be watching them and have no clue about their whereabouts.”

- Lucifer can take it NO LONGER when we’re about right before lesson 16 and he’s making a scene at dinner

- “Why do you never stay in this house? You a mere human think you’re too good to talk?”

- “That. That shit right there is why I don’t talk to any of you. Do you not notice how rude you are?”

- Before Satan can even say his “we’re demons” line you’re cutting his ass off

- “Why would I want to spend time around people who threaten my life for fun?🤨my job is to heal demon human relations and I’m doing that just not with the help of YOU.”

- Dips to purgatory hall bc it’s not Solomon’s night to cook

- They all just kinda 🧍🧍🧍🧍🧍🧍for a few days bc wtf can they say to that??

- Like you’re absolutely right

- You were already humbling Lucifer before but now he has this irrational anger towards you

- But in a nice way??

- He’s like packing your lunch and throwing away whatever you had

- Pushing you out the way to do whatever chore or task you’re doing

- Makes your favorite foods when is his turn to cook dinner

- Like he’s completely unhinged

- To stir the pot let’s say this is lesson 16 and they show up to all that

- Can you imagine??

- Their filled with even more regret than before!! They never got a chance to establish a deep bond with you

- Not really. Not like you have with everyone else

- And now you’re gone??

- They barely even care about the Lilith reveal like😭

- They do everything they can to win your favor but it’s like the end of the program now who’s to say it was enough??

- Beel is elated while the othered are broken that you and belphie become close

- Poor belphie is exhausted w all this drama so to make amends even more he goes out of his way to heal the gaps between you and the others so it’s all good now

- Not Lucifer tho

- He’s still moping

- Can’t hurt his pride by saying how glad he is that your back

- Can’t tell you how he watched his world fall apart when he saw the light leave your eyes

- DEFINITELY can’t tell you how he prayed to Lilith that he would protect you from now on and that he’s sorry

- All of RAD throws a huge goodbye party for you

- Lots of tears

- During the movie night of like that last few days

- As a little treat for you, you still sleep w Lucifer lmao

- Like you sneak out to go to the bathroom and none of the brother see you for the rest of the night?? Yeah we knew already

- He WILL cry jsyk

- He’s pressing kisses all over you and holding you like you’ll disappear

- Mumbling praises into your skin

- The most he’s ever said “I love you” in his entire existence

- Looking at you with teary eyes

- Can’t keep up his prideful façade

- He’s okay with being vulnerable to you

- Again hit him w the “my morning star”

- And he will go crazy

- Tears up when you leave

- Like he can’t even front like he’s not about to go throw up

- They’re all anxious that they won’t ever see you again because you still hate them

- I promise you on everything in all three realms

- They almost do NOT let you leave when you go

- “Thank you for my time here, I love all of you.”

- They are inconsolable

#my writing #x black reader #obey me #obey me x black reader #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #answered asks #obey me x reader #lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader #slight n*fw #mammon x reader #obey me mammon #leviathan x reader #obey me leviathan #satan x reader #satan obey me #asmodeous #asmodeus x reader #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #beelzebub x reader #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #belphegor x reader #was writing like 5 Fics pls someone teach me how to write again #I’ve started over like 7 times #cries

[undercoverpena]

iv. before the gold and glimmer

javier peña x f!reader | chapter four of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: fluff. flirting. continuous romcom vibes. an: i adore each of you who are coming along this weird and wonderful journey, we're getting closer, i promise. wordcount: 2.5k.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

I’ll be home in an hour.

I’ll be ready 

Are we going to do the crossword tonight or are you going to spend an hour flirting?

too early to comment

I’m bringing my A game. 

to flirt with me? baby you flatter me 

No. Crosswords, you fucking flirt.

hermosa did you just swear at me 

I did. Now I have to concentrate, stop distracting me. 

Javi is aware that his pop is thinking things. 

Has been since the phone conversations began. The ones initially having slotted in when the house was empty. Quiet. Just him and his thoughts banging around, occasionally punctured by him pressing the keys on his phone until the phone rang.

Now, the phone calls have bled out into quick chats on other nights (Javi’s hand over his mouth, trying to muffle a laugh). He’s caught sight of his pop’s smirk more than once.

He’s very aware that he hasn’t helped things by dropping your name into conversations.

Accidentally, at first.

Then just accepting his fate and embracing it. Talking about you as if you’re this fully fleshed thing in front of him—mentioning the news thing you’d heard, something funny you’d said. 

He even mentioned you to Murphy. Again, not on purpose. 

Steve was quick. Picking up on it immediately in their latest monthly catch-up where usually Javi listens to how amazing, disruptive and yet tiring kids are—how Miami would be good for him, and that Connie misses him. This time it segwayed suddenly into, and who might she be then, Jav? 

It had crossed his mind to play it down. To conceal you—because a part of him suspects he should hate all of it.

Before, he had always preferred secrecy. Kept the women he had been seeing behind lock and key. Partially due to the nature, the risk—now, though, he thinks he just doesn’t want to share. 

Doesn’t want to taint it. Selfishly wanting to keep you all to himself, his slice of happiness that no one can dull.

It also aids in holding himself back from falling over the cliff, tumbling into ruin because he let himself get ahead of himself. 

Feel too much, too quick, because Javi didn’t even know what you looked like. Hadn’t eyed you up across a bar, hadn’t spotted you in the aisle of the store.

You’d stumbled into his life.

No reason, no real cause or explanation, and now he’s not entirely sure as to why he feels the amount he does. That he cares, that he likes you. How that when he talks to you, he feels only happy, content and joy—like he could do and be anything.

You provide the key to the semblance of normalcy he’s been longing for. Liking what others would think is mundane, like about your day. Now he longs for it all face to face, where he can read your face instead of dissecting your voice. 

She’s just someone I’ve been talking to. Don’t—don’t even know her, really.  You knew all the others well before? Fuck off, Murphy.  Just sayin’, sometimes, shit just don’t make sense, Jav. 

Steve says it as though it answers all his problems. 

Like he thinks the words will make all the pieces click into place, suddenly cemented and real—all understood and no longer complex. 

But it’s all still very much messy—a tangling of feelings that ready exist and more which threaten to come.

In truth, he doesn’t mind the complications of it all. He just thinks it’s best to protest it a little. Pretend he hasn’t abandoned all logic just because someone made him smile and feel a little less broken.

Because he knew, just like those around him, that he was done for. 

It all perfectly evidenced by the fact he doesn’t mind when his pop begins giving him one of those smirks more often than not—the ones surrounded by wiry white hair, partnered with a knowing look on his face. The same conversation circling, the one that’s been going on for days now—

“When the two of you meeting?”  “I don’t know, pop.”  “You made plans to see her yet?” “No, pop.”  “You should go see her. You need a break.” “Pop.” 

At some stage, his pop stops beginning it—challenging him. Now he just signals the words with a look. One he assumes parents are given when their child enters the world—the one that is part knowing and part ‘you know you’re going to do what I’m saying, anyway’.

Javi hates that more than he hates the rest of the situation. 

Because his pop isn’t wrong. He wants to see you, watch your expressions instead of imagining them. 

Not just to see what you look like, but so that he can see how you react when he says certain things. Whether you scrunch your nose or your lips curl before you smile; whether you hide your face when he embarrasses you, or whether you fold your arms and pout. 

Each time the two of you text or call, he thinks it—wants to bring it up and ask.

A need in him growing, in the same way his feelings do. Multiplying, quivering in his bones when you laugh, and it travels straight to his heart—making it swell and bloom. Filling the expanse of his chest until he isn’t sure he can feel any more happiness. 

Picking up the phone on the first ring, he hears your usual chirpy hey, which he follows with his now usual: “Hey baby.” 

“¿Cómo estás, Javi?”

“Ay, you’ve been practising.” 

Hearing you laugh makes him smile. Unknots the stresses of the day from him as he pulls the chair over—sitting on it as his head rests against the wall. 

“I purchased a Spanish for kids book, so that’s my skill level.” 

Smirking, he rolls his lips. “You trying for me?” 

“Sí.”

Snorting, he rubs the bridge of his nose. “Eres tan linda, querida.” 

“I know the last word means darling.” 

“I said you are very cute.” 

You pause, a shuffling sound coming from your side of the phone before the softest of sighs. “You’re making me blush, again.” 

“You make it too easy.” 

“Stop,” you say, all fake warning and all likely accompanied by a cute smile, “How’s your day been—tell me you got a splinter in your ass?” 

Smirking, he slumps further into the chair, legs spread, spare hand resting on his thigh. “Starting to think you only talk to me for my body.”

The laugh you let out is closer to a howl, and his cheeks hurt from hearing it—his grin so large, it doesn’t fade for hours. 

apprehensive feeling, 5 

Come on, Javi. 

I think it may be angst 

If I were there I’d kiss your cheek. 

I know you mean that in a nice way but it feels demeaning 

Oh no I meant it as the latter. 

is that how we’re being

You tell me. 

paris divider, 5 

Seine. You ever been to Paris?

no have you 

Not yet. 

not yet? 

Well there’s always time. Heard it’s a romantic place to go.

maybe if you were nicer someone would take you 

You make a good point. 

things go ok this morning

Not like I wanted but not the worst. I can apply but they’re playing the experience card again. 

bullshit, you ok

I will be. Thank you for checking in on me. 

you can tell me if youre not yknow

I just need to destress is all. It’s like talking to a fucking wall sometimes.

fuck I love it when you swear 

Javi, stop. 

do you really want me to 

No. But you’re making my face burn. 

bet you look real pretty getting embarrassed 

I actually do not, so you should stop so you don’t inflict the face on others. 

I don’t believe you

Maybe one day you’ll see it for yourself so you can believe me 

wish one day was today 

Why would you destress me? 

baby I’d make sure you couldn’t even think the word stress never mind feel it 

You confident in that? 

youll have to find out

Something was different in the air the moment he woke up. 

Things went far easier than they normally would. No one tried to bowl him over during feeding. The fence he went to check on didn’t look all that bad—and there wasn’t even a queue when he visited the homeware store for pop. 

There also wasn’t a rain cloud in the sky.

And it put him on edge. 

His gut—the one he had relied on to take down the narcos—flared back to life. It could be a good day, a once-in-a-blue moon, a blessing in a sea of disguise. 

But rationality didn’t stop him from checking over his shoulder, do a final sweep of the land. 

It had been like that when he’d first gotten back. All on edge, finding it difficult to settle. He had smoked back then, worse than he had done when he’d been over in Colombia. It’s why he’d chosen to quit.

Now, he rotated the phone between his finger and thumb, feeling it vibrate against his palm, checking if it was you before he allows the smile—the one you pull from him by just texting him—blossom. 

So I have good news and I have bad news lead with the bad first I can’t call you on Thursday night

His heart drops, plummets. 

A part of him knew something bad was around the corner. Taking in your text, over and over. Checking he understood it as he climbed the stairs up the porch. 

Javi rolls his head on his neck, staring up—the flies around the porch light buzzing away as he tries to compose himself. 

Somehow always knowing that deep down, this day would come. His mind is too quick to act, abruptly busy with conjuring thoughts. That old analytical part of him whirs back to life as it tries to make heads or tails of the situation in front of him, as though it was a case.

Because he suspects that your good news is that you have a date—someone you’ve seen face to face and has swept you off your feet. A person who will take you away from him because he can’t offer you that.

Plus, you don’t even know him.

Not really. 

He’s just this person you text. 

This person he feels…

well fuck. The good news best be the best news ever I think it is. Don’t tease me, querida Says you, baby.

Baby?

It takes him a second. 

The four letters blowing all the conjured theories well and truly out of the water. 

His eyes trace over the letters, even after he’s sent the reply. Javi’s heart suddenly in his throat, pulse in his ear—the blood banging around. 

Shut up. Anyway I can’t call you because I’ll be on an early flight in the morning to Houston. Work needs me to check out some odd sales. You’ll be in Texas? Yeah. So the good news is, if you meant what you said, we could meet in person.

He swallows, spine straightening—posture suddenly pristine, making the muscles in his back ache from the day as they flex and tighten under his shirt. 

You want to meet him. 

Or he thinks. 

Not wanting to read between the lines—needing the confirmation, to hear you say it. His shirt begins to cling to his back, hair falling over his forehead as sweat grows, strands of hair being grasped against his skin.

You want to meet me? Of course, I’m the one suggesting it. But if you don’t, that’s fine. I mean, I’ll begin judging how lonely you actually are if you don’t. But it’s fine.

His thumbs aren’t quick enough. 

Each text firing in—and he wishes, more than he usually does, that he could be there with you. Clutch your cheek, assure you, make you breathe—

baby breathe. I want to meet you, I do But? but nothing

Even if there is. 

There seems like there’s a but

Javi doesn’t mean to, but he laughs. 

Somehow, miles away—you can already read him. Know him. His thumb massaging his nose, wrist hiding his smile from the world. 

I’m nervous about the fact you could see me and never want to speak to me again You think I’m that shallow? No. It’s just you’ve been the best thing about my day in a long, long time, querida Call me. it’s late isn’t it Javi. 

He moves, the chair he had been on almost toppling over as he opens the storm door and then the next. Moving into the kitchen, not even needing to pull your number up. He knows it. 

It’s burned into him. 

The receiver meets his ear as you answer in record time as your voice greets his ears. Followed by a sigh when he greets you in a low-whisper.

“Javi, I feel the same.” 

He swallows. “Yeah?” 

Silence greets him before you do a soft laugh. That little one he’s begun noticing you do when you later tell him you’ve just nodded or shrugged—forgetting he can’t see down the phone. 

“I wanted you to call so you could hear it. That I want to meet you because I can’t stop thinking about you. And that might be insane, and odd. But… I like you. I feel things.” 

“I know,” he says, pressing his forehead against the wall—eyes closing, hand tightening around the phone. “I like you, too.” 

Javi hears it. The discernible way you relax. 

It comes across in the way you take a breath, in the way he suddenly feels his own shoulders slide from his ears. 

“But if it’s too soon, I can use some time off—“

“No, cariño. No. I… I want to. I’ll be there.” 

You swallow—loud in the silence. Almost clunky. “I’m scared too.” 

Opening his eyes, he stares at the peeling paint. Something running over him, from his head to his feet. It whispers to relax, to breathe—allowing him fully to do both. 

“You could… I don’t know, see me and find I don’t match the image of me you’ve created. Or, find me horribly boring. Or that I’m actually the strangest person. It’s scary. I’m scared too.” 

He nods, smiling to himself. “I’ll pick you up from the airport.”

“You don’t have to—“

“Baby.” It silences you, and the thought makes him smile. “I’ll pick you up from the airport, okay?”

It takes a beat. 

A full ten seconds. 

“We’re going to meet,” you say softly, almost wistfully. 

And it cracks then, a smile. A real one. His usual one. Turning on the spot, pressing his back against the wall, head meeting it as he lets the grin spread into his cheeks, almost to his eyes if his thumb and finger didn’t begin rubbing them. 

“We’re gonna meet,” he replies.

Opening his eyes, seeing the noticeable flicker of the television—its shimmering light flittering through the doorway, illuminating his pop, who is standing smiling at him. 

AN: remember, if you wish to see the deleted 18+ scene for the birthday bash, be sure to check back on 8th of July, otherwise see you next Tuesday 

next ->

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier peña narcos #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javi pena #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javi peña smut #javier peña x reader smut #pedrostories #agent peña #javi peña #mm: late night texts #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena

[xrenjunniesx]

Hi I love your account can you please write dreamies revealing their relationship with a non idol reader

when they reveal your relationship

Idol!nct dream x non-idol!reader

a/n - I really struggled on this for some reason so I’m sorry for the longer wait

mark

you two were just trying to enjoy an evening at a bar for a friends birthday. the back of the bar was booked out meaning no fans were going to even be allowed in. it wasn’t fans that were the problem, but rather it was one of the staffs who recognised mark as an idol.

a photo of the two of you hugging each other and another one of mark kissing your cheek was revealed to the public and immediately the response was strong.

people you knew were recognising you and contacting you, EVERYONE was freaking out.

mark didn’t know at first until you called him, panicking as you explained what happened. he left his schedule as quick as he could and went home to you, calling the company to set a meeting to see where to go from here. he is rather mature about the situation and oddly calm, mainly because he knew this kind of thing was bound to happen one day.

doesn’t mean he isn’t panicking though.

renjun

he was the one who saw the post revealing photos of you two shopping together. in fact he saw the post before it even reached the general public. he was quick to get staff and his members to try and get the post taken down but it grew more popular by the minutes and eventually it was making headlines.

he called you and talked to you through what had happened. he was trying to be calm because this wasn’t the end of the world but damn did it feel like that as he read through the public’s opinion.

he did see a few positive comments but the negative outweighed them, so he deletes his social media apps of his phone, only posting photos on Instagram every now and then before deleting again. goes inactive until everything has calmed down for his own mental health and his suggest you do the same - even if it takes months.

jeno

you two were talking in the background of a behind the scenes video uploaded to the youtube channel. the editors thought you were a staff member, they didn’t even notice you and jeno hugging in the background that was only shown for a split second.

the clip was instantly being spread around and the youtube video was re-edited but it didn’t stop the original from being shown.

when he saw it he was a little shocked since he didn’t even notice that there was any type of camera in the room at that moment, which was why he was comfortably talking to you in the middle of the room.

you contacted him minutes later after he first saw it, crying in a moment of worry for what this all meant for you both.

he will reassure you but he will also be just as worried and be telling you to be careful if you go out anywhere JUST IN CASE.

haechan

on a live one of the fans asked what time it was there and he showed the fans his phone, not realising he hadn’t turned notifications off. you sent a message at that exact moment saying, “love, I’ll be home soon.” he moved the phone away quickly but he knew he was done for. he laughed it off awkwardly at first before apologising and ending the live.

he called you as soon as the live was over. “BABE I JUST REVEALED YOUR TEXT OH MY GOD”

you’re both freaking out but once you’re home he tries to calm down and think maturely about this. “look… they can’t ALL hate me? I’ll still be able to make music…” He is thinking positively and refusing to pick his phone up because he knows if he goes online he will only think negatively.

jaemin

you were somewhat a youtuber, and in one of your vlogs, in the background as you walked with the camera through your house there was a picture of you and jaemin.

people managed to recognise it immediately and you were shocked because you didn’t even notice it when you were editing. you contact jaemin, worrying what he would say. you speak so fast into the phone that he didn’t even get to say anything until you were done speaking.

“love… it’s okay we can sort this out.” “I am so sorry jaemin.” “it’s okay, I’ll contact the company then I’ll call you right back, okay?”

you both ended up just coming out about the situation and admitting your dating. you take a break from your socials.

the only positive to this situation is that he gets to see you more since he doesn’t have to hide anything anymore. you can go to his place and he can go to yours!

chenle

there was two instances where he accidentally revealed it and he didn’t even realise that fans would connect these two instances. the first thing was when he accidentally followed your account on instagram. he went on bubble not long after he made it seem light hearted, “oh I accidentally followed an account while going through reels.”

the second time was when a fan asked to be daegals mother and he instantly said, “she already has a mother. WHICH is me I’m the mother and father. I’m the only one she needs.” he panicked as he spoke and tried to play it off.

fans put the two times together and looked more into it, figuring out that you two HAD to be dating. the one and only time the crazy fans were right.

he is panicking when he realises fans were figuring it out and instantly gets in contact with both you and the company. you’re a bit more calm over the phone about this than he is but when you see him in person you’re also freaking out.

jisung

you two were seen together out in public. it was really late at night when the two of you were going for a walk to a local shop near your place to get some late night food.

fans approached jisung, leaving you both shocked since he was disguised pretty well in your opinion.

the fans kept pestering you both so you two ran away- literally.

it made headlines the next day, and you laughed at the photos of you running away with jisung. your laughter was really just covering for how nervous and worried you were though. He on the other hand was texting everyone he trusted and getting all sorts of different advice.

he is really worried about what this meant for his future and he might consider a hiatus to avoid having to face the fans for a bit if the response is really negative.

#nct dream imagine #nct imagines #nct #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct scenarios #nct fluff #jaemin imagines #jaemin imagine #park jisung imagines #jisung imagine #jisung imagines #mark lee imagines #mark imagine #mark imagines #jeno imagine #jeno imagines #haechan imagines #haechan imagine #renjun imagine #renjun imagines #chenle imagines #chenle imagine

[flowerxbunnie]

Star Crossed

Chris x Fem reader

Warnings: angst, cheating/breakup, underage drinking, scene involving cigarettes

“Fuck you Garrett, like actually.” I spat, gripping at the handle of his jeep and threatening to leave.

“What is your problem? You never told me that it wasn’t okay. She’s literally Tristan’s cousin. And your best friend is a guy, I thought you would be okay with this.” he argued, his face plastered with confusion but his voice filled with anger.

“Don’t try to make me feel crazy,” I warned, turning back to face him and pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’m okay with you having friends of the opposite gender. But I don’t care if it’s the Queen of England, since when is it okay to text other girls private details about our relationship?”

“I only do it when we’re in arguments and I need someone to vent to. She told me I could come to her when I was upset. It’s not like it’s an everyday thing.” He throws his hands up in frustration.

“Okay,” I let an angry chuckle out. “I’m gonna call up one of my girls’ cousins and tell him about this right quick then. See if he maybe has some advice for me.”

“That’s not the fucking same and you know it. He’d try to fuck you or god knows what else.” He scowled.

I stare into his eyes, blinking slowly, hoping the hypocrisy behind his words catches up to him. But it doesn’t.

“I just don’t get why you treat me like I’m some horrible boyfriend,” he starts, “I meet my best friend’s cousin at a bonfire, get her number and text her casually and you fly off the handle.”

“You text her about OUR RELATIONSHIP. When we’re at our worst. Why do you need advice from a random fucking girl who you barely know?” I snapped, my cheeks burning and my hands shaking. Tears threaten to spill over, something I hate about myself when I get angry. “Let’s not forget that you went through and liked every single one of her instagram pictures. Every single one. Was that a piece of the advice she gave you? To make your girlfriend look like a fucking idiot?” I fumed, his hands moving to grip the steering wheel with white knuckles. “And how do I know that’s all you talk about, hm? All the texts are deleted.”

His face remains blank as he grabs the gear-shifter and throws the jeep into reverse. His eyes flick up to the rear view and he backs out of our spot in the random shopping outlet’s parking lot, roughly shifting into drive a he pulls out and into the road.

“What the fuck are you doing, Garrett?” I grumble, watching the streetlights lining the road zoom past my window as he speeds down the highway.

“I’m taking you home. I’m not gonna stay with a crazy bitch who thinks she can micromanage my every move.” He spoke, his tone calm and his expression unwavering.

I take a deep breath. I’m done with the arguing.

“Okay.”

I close out of her instagram account, still trying to convince myself that my eyes are playing tricks on me as Garrett’s name is plastered under her newest scandalous photos. I toss my phone into the space between my bed and the wall, knowing it’s unhealthy to stalk her and mourn my relationship everyday. It’s been a week.

Somehow I’ve managed to drag myself to class everyday. The lessons don’t click in my brain this week, my notebook is empty and my pen is dry. I’m not even sure I have a voice anymore. I haven’t spoken to anyone unless I had to. None of my friends know what happened, I’m too embarrassed to come across as the crazy ex-girlfriend who got her heart broken because she can’t mind her own business.

Aside from class I’ve been lying down rotting for the past seven days, going back and forth on if I’m in the wrong or if I’m valid in my feelings. Garrett was right, my best friend is a guy, but I’ve known him since middle school. We know everything about each other, he’s like family. Garrett threw everything away for a girl he had just met, deleting text messages and completely failing to ever mention her name in conversation.

My body feels like it’s physically reacting, my muscles aching and my head throbbing. My mind races with questions.

How can someone who I poured so much of my love into take it and wring it down the drain?

How can I even feel angry? He just wanted a new friend.

Why did he like all of her pictures, even the first embarrassing one she ever posted in 2013?

Why are you so controlling?

Why didn’t he tell me?

Why do you care so much? It’s just Tristan’s cousin.

Is it bad for my boyfriend to like pictures of a girl in a hot tub?

I hear my phone vibrating, but I can’t even find the energy to move the comforter off of my body. I put a pillow over my ears and try to wish it away. I’m tired of the questions. I don’t want to explain why I’ve seemed down.

It keeps going off, vibrating against the wall over and over relentlessly. Huffing, I shove my hand down into the gap and dig for it, pulling it up and squinting as the screen beams light into my eyes.

“Party tonight at the same house as last week. Y/n please get off your lazy ass and come!!!”

“yeah y/n i need to see ur pretty face!”

“If Garrett gets mad tell him he can come too”

“its senior year pleaseee we don’t have many parties left :(“

My group chat is flooded with messages from my girl friends. I can’t even reply right now. Maybe getting out would be good for me, but I really want to sit in my two day old clothes and stuff my face with Oreos tonight. How dumb am I gonna look dancing alone?

My mind races for the next hour, contemplating whether going out will make me feel better or become a huge regret. Garrett and I never officially broke things off, we just haven’t talked in a week. What if he’s pining over it like I am? I can’t exactly just dance my feelings away with some random guy when I don’t even know the status of my relationship.

After a phone call from Sophie and a lot of convincing, I decide it would be best for me to get out tonight. I need the interaction, and maybe a couple drinks if someone was able to bum them from their college friends. I need to hear music, I need to speak with other humans. But I can’t go alone.

My phone hovers over Chris’s name, worried I might wake him up since it’s already late. I click it anyway, the dial tone only going off twice before I hear his voice on the other side.

“Y/n/n, what’s up!” he chirps.

I smile to myself, my best friend always cheering me up whether he knows it or not. “You know, the usual. Coming up with a blue print for a new and improved Golden Gate Bridge. You?”

“Fuck off,” he stifles his laughter. “I’m watching some show Nick and Matt told me about. For real though, what’s up?”

“Sophie is begging me to go to a party tonight. You down to be my plus one?” I question as I shuffle through my closet.

“Garrett didn’t wanna go?” he asks puzzled.

I take a moment and debate whether or not I want to tell him. I really don’t want to bring down the mood of the night. I’m supposed to be having fun.

“Nah, not tonight. He’s on some boys trip upstate.” I lie through my teeth.

“Sounds lame. I’ll be there, what time?” He asks and I hear rustling, presumably him getting up off the couch or his bed.

“Uhhhh like two hours….” I trail off, nervous it might be too short of notice.

“Alright, I’ll meet you at your house and we can walk together.”

“Perfect! Thank you Chrissy.” I feel tears well up in my eyes, actual happiness igniting, even if only a small spark, for the first time in a week.

“Don’t thank me, weirdo.” He laughs. “See ya dude.” The line goes silent.

I spend the next couple hours taking everything slow. I eat a meal, my first fulfilling one since that night. I wash my face, do my hair, throw on makeup to look and feel more alive. I decide on a maroon slip dress, silky and comfortable. As I’m saying my goodbyes to my parents and about to walk out the door, my phone vibrates in my hand.

“What color are you wearing?”

“Maroon!”

I smile as I text him back, knowing he’s gonna wear something to coordinate our looks. As cringe as it may be, that’s just Chris.

We meet exactly where we planned, the chill in the air causing us to walk shoulder to shoulder for any sort of warmth. We don’t talk much, but the silence is comfortable. We never felt the need to force something out of nothing. Nothing is everything with him.

We walk in and we’re immediately greeted by Sophie and a bunch of other people she’s been hanging around.

“Y/n!” She pulls me into a hug. “Where’s Garrett? Hey Chris!” She waves in his direction.

“Boys trip.” I shrug, going into as little detail as possible.

“Oh, well I’m SO glad you came. You haven’t been yourself the last few days.” She says while giving me a look of genuine concern.

“Class has been super stressful,” I lie. “But I’m so glad I came too!”

Chris smiles as he listens in on our conversation, waving at various people who greet him in passing.

He looks so handsome. He’s wearing a maroon sweater with a button up peeking out from underneath and some jeans that fall perfectly over his long legs. I’ve always been so jealous of his ability to throw anything together and make it an outfit, a good one at that.

“Chrissy I love your outfit,” I whisper in his ear, the music too loud to try to talk from a distance.

“Had to layer, it’s too cold for a ratty tshirt,” he jokes. “But I could say the same to you. You look gorgeous.” He smiles and bumps his shoulder against mine.

The night goes on and we drink, dance, take goofy photos in front of a prop wall, and talk to so many fucking people. I’ve went over my social meter for the night, but Chris looks like he’s having so much fun and I would never say anything to ruin that. He makes his way back over to me after a round of beer pong that he absolutely crushed everyone else at.

“I wanna get one more picture in front of the prop wall and then I think I’m gonna call it a night. Gonna walk to McDonalds if you wanna comeee..” he sing songs, giving me a pleading look.

“Thank fuck,” I laugh, relief washing over me. “I was done an hour ago. Just didn’t wanna take the experience away from you.”

“That’s crazy because I was also done an hour ago, but I thought you were having a good time.” He laughs, his nose scrunching up.

We walk over to the prop wall and find someone to snap a photo for us. I grab a pair of red heart glasses, he grabs a bow tie on a stick and holds it up to his neck.

“3.. 2.. 1… and cheese!” The girl slurs before the flash blinds us.

She tosses me my phone and we thank her before slipping out the door, thankfully going unnoticed by Sophie. We giggle and walk alongside each other on the sidewalk, the smell of dewy late night air flooding my nose. The streetlights carve out Chris’s cheekbones as he looks down at me, rambling about nothing and everything all at once. I listen intently, glad to have my mind on anything other than what it’s been rampant with recently.

“It’s fucking cold,” I complain as I cross my arms across my chest and rub some friction onto them.

“Here.” Chris quickly stops in his tracks and pulls his sweater off, his button up left behind. He tosses it my way and gives me a small smile.

It smells like him as I slip it over my head and bring the sleeves over my hands.

“Thank you.”

We make it to McDonald’s relatively quickly. Chris holds the door open for me and we order our food and find a booth to wait in. My feet ache and my hair just feels tangled.

“What a fucking night. I can’t wait to crash after this,” I sigh and lay my head on the table.

His hand comes down to rub my hair, a sweet gesture he loves to do. His love language has always been physical touch.

“Aww, I was hoping you’d hang out with me a little longer. I’ve got ideas!” He whines.

I look up at him with a raised eyebrow. You never know what this kid is going to come up with in the spur of the moment.

“Just wanted to walk around that nature park down the road. Seems spooooky at night.” He laughs and turns his head, standing up as the cashier calls out our number.

We laugh and eat, my mind completely free of any thoughts besides how much fun I’m having with Chris. Ever since we met in 6th grade art class he’s known how to keep a smile on my face. He’s the kind of person you can’t help but be drawn to. His laugh alone is infectious, filling up any room he’s in. He’s such an attentive friend, which is why I’m not surprised when his mood shifts and he starts to question me.

“So what’s been going on, Y/n/n?” He looks down at his fries and scoots them around.

Do we really need to do this right now? I’m prepared to sink back into my sadness once I’m alone. I don’t plan on telling anyone until I’m sure of where we stand myself.

“Uh, nothing really,” I mumble, taking a sip of my blue Powerade. “Just stressed from assignments and stuff I guess.”

“Not gonna fool me, kid. What’s up?” He looks me in the eye this time.

His blue eyes hold so much genuine concern. They flicker back and forth between my own and he blinks slowly awaiting my response.

“It’s Garrett.” I admit.

“What about him this time?” He huffs as his eyes harden, sitting back against his side of the booth with his arms across his chest.

“He… I don’t know. He crossed a boundary and I wasn’t comfortable with it,” I start, breaking eye contact and pushing my hair behind my ear. “And then he acted like I was out of line. He dropped me off at my house and I haven’t heard from him since.”

His gaze softens and he puts his elbows on the table, scooting closer to me with a knowing look. “I figured it had something to do with that. You know I can read you like a book. So is it over, or…?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t say, and I haven’t even tried to reach out.” I close my box of chicken nuggets as my appetite fizzles away.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. He fucking sucks.” He leaves it at that and gathers all our trash. “Let’s go.”

We walk to a nearby gas station in silence, the mood heavier this time. I wander around the snack aisle as he makes his purchase. I hear the bell on the door ring and look over as he holds it open and nods his head at me. The black bag swings lazily at his side as we walk to the park.

“What did you get?” I ask as we settle on a bench under a lamp post.

“Cigarettes. Oh and a lighter.” He says casually as he pulls them out of the bag.

“What the fuck,” I laugh, my eyes widening as I realize he’s serious. “Why?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know, just figured we could try something new. You’re stressed and shit so I kinda just thought it would be nice, I don’t know.” He flicks his thumb across the lighter and the yellow flame illuminates his face before he blows it out.

“I mean.. I guess. I’m probably gonna cough super bad.” I laugh and straighten my legs in front of me, crossing my ankles.

“Eh, fuck it. I probably will too.” He laughs and rips the pack open.

He brings a cigarette between his lips and holds it there, cupping a hand around it to block the wind. His other hand comes up with the lighter and sparks it a couple times before he gets it to light. He holds the flame against the end and draws in a breath, the tip glowing red as it catches fire. He immediately pulls it away from his mouth and coughs loudly, standing up and holding his chest.

“What… the FUCK.” He says between heaving coughs, small puffs of smoke escaping his mouth each time.

I can’t help but laugh, throwing my hands over my mouth and taking in the sight in front of me. He shakes his head back and forth with his eyes closed, his brown waves flopping around. He extends his arm to me and squats down trying to take control over his breath again.

“Good fuckin’ luck.” He coughs out.

I lean forward and grab it between my fingers, his warm ones brushing mine in the process. He looks up and smiles before shaking his head in disgust again.

“So fucking dizzy.” He says as he sits down fully on the asphalt.

“Baby’s first nicotine buzz!” I joke, stopping my laughter quickly as he squints his eyes at me.

I bring the cigarette between my lips and drag on it, my lungs immediately filling with thick, rancid smelling smoke. I cough one big time and try to hold it in, puffing my cheeks out and attempting to hold my breath. My chest starts burning and my eyes are watering, and my body instinctively coughs over and over to try to clear my airway. I see Chris laughing through my blurry vision, smacking his knees and stomping a foot on the ground.

“Oh… my.. god.” I choke out, my head spinning and my fingers erupting with a static feeling.

“Yeah, shit’s no joke. How do people enjoy this?” He stands up and drags himself back over to the bench, reclaiming his spot beside me and grabbing the cigarette from me.

I cough on and off, still trying to rid my lungs of the contaminants. I throw my head back and my hair dangles off the backrest of the bench. Chris’s hand finds its way to me and strokes my hair softly and slowly. I bring my head back up and look at him, shaking my head with disappointment.

“Can’t believe you would do that to me.” I tease through a stifled smile.

“Just wanted to see what it was like..” he giggles and brings it back to his lips, the end glowing again as he takes a smaller puff.

He coughs once or twice as the smoke billows out of his mouth and dissipates into the foggy air around us. He looks at me with wide eyes. “Hey, that one wasn’t so bad!” He holds it back out to me, gesturing me to try again.

“Uhh.. I think I’m good. My lungs feel like they’re collapsing.” I push his hand back.

“You should try one more time..” he looks away in thought before snapping his head back. “What if we shotgun? I’ll take the brunt of the smoke and you can have whatever’s leftover. It’ll be less harsh that way.”

I’m sorry, but shotgunning a cigarette? First of all, that’s nasty. Does not sound appealing in the slightest. Secondly, I can’t fathom bringing my lips that close to Chris.

“Uhhh..” I trail off and shake my head slightly.

“Come onnnn Y/n/n!” He pouts, scooting closer to me on the bench. “I’m not gonna peer pressure you into it if you really don’t want to..” he says seriously.

“Fine. ONE more time.” I say and narrow my eyes at him.

He nods furiously and scoots even closer, our thighs touching and his cologne strong in the breeze. I can see every detail of his face under the light of the lamp post. His bushy but clean brows, his smile lines, his pink lips wet from obsessively licking them. His hair falls over his eyes as he brings the cigarette back into his mouth and takes a big drag. His eyes widen and he grabs my face in a rush, his warm hand against my cold cheek.

He pulls me close and our noses brush against each other. Time feels like it slows down to a crawl. I open my mouth and he does the same, our lips micrometers apart. His hot breath mixed with the smoke fan over my face as his eyes close, his long eyelashes fanning across his cheeks. I can feel heat in my cheeks that I’ve never felt around him.

He exhales as I inhale, the smoke that was once in his lungs filling my own. I take all that I can and he stays for what feels like a moment too long, his icy blue eyes opening to lock onto mine. I feel a weird pit in my stomach and the blood stills in my veins. Why am I feeling like this?

He pulls back and scans over my face, watching as I exhale and a comically small puff of smoke blows out.

“Well, that was lame.” He laughs and brushes his hair back.

“Yeah, little bit.” I agree flatly.

We sit in silence and finish the cigarette together, our lungs adjusting and my mind racing. I try to take my mind off the feeling of his thigh still brushing against mine, but the nicotine doesn’t have any effect at all. I thought these things are supposed to relieve stress.

Once we’ve burnt it to the end, he rubs the bud against the asphalt and flicks it away. It rolls until it hits the curb and we both sigh at the same time. We look at eachother and laugh at our ‘jinx’ moment, not knowing just how different we were feeling internally but thankful that we feel no pressure to be perfect when we were together.

“I’m so thankful to have a friend like you, Chrissy.” I smile and blow some warm air into my frozen hands.

He smiles lazily at me for a second, an almost sad look flashing across his eyes as his hand comes to lay on top of mine and stroke the back of it with his thumb. “Don’t know what I’d do without ya.”

•••

The morning sun comes out from hiding, her rays illuminating his brown hair on his pillow beside me. I watch his chest rising and falling steadily, a calming rhythm that could lull me back to sleep any day. Nothing makes me happier than waking up and feeling warmth on his side of the bed. I feel whole in his presence.

I look around at our bedroom and realize just how far we’ve come. We’ve both left the comfort of our parents homes and have made these four walls our own. Piece by piece we made a sanctuary like a bird collecting sticks and paper straw wrappers for its nest. I could go anywhere with him and build a nest. He makes everything okay.

I take my phone off the charger and scroll around aimlessly, hoping not to disturb his sleep, his pink lips hanging open and his eyes moving under his lids. I go through instagram and flip through recipes, gym videos, and dog compilations before I’m bored and close it out. I try Facebook and my distant older relatives have flooded my timeline with political garbage, so I close it out too. I open Snapchat and see a memory, smiling as I start to click through the photos and videos taken on this day from the previous years.

The first video plays, a snippet from last year of us in his car, lip syncing to one of our favorite songs. The next one is from the same night, a photo of him with his arm around me in front of the door to our then-new apartment. His eyes shimmered with happiness, mine mirroring his own with a huge smile plastered on my face.

I click again and watch as our past plays out on the screen in front of me. I can’t help but feel so thankful for the way everything worked out. So much would be different if the world hadn’t knitted us in the exact pattern it planned, one frayed thread and I wouldn’t be sitting in this room with the love of my life.

Click

My smile fades as I scan over the photo. I reminisce on the night, remembering everything as if it were a movie playing in my brain. They used to be some of the best times of my life. He made me so happy.

It’s strange how well you can know the inner workings of someone, sometimes more than your own. You know the temperature they like to drink their water, their favorite salad dressing, the commercials that make them cry. And you sit together and watch the commercials from time to time, because you know the end makes them smile again.

It’s strange how quickly it can all fizzle out, both of you existing in the world without a clue of who the person could be today. Here one minute and gone the next. I know he’s out there. He knows I’m out here. But who is he?

How different would my life had been if I did end up with him? Would I have had the same opportunities, the same zeal for life, would I be happier? Would it be my single biggest regret?

I wonder if he thinks about me and everything we went through together. I wonder if he remembers the angsty songs we played in his car late at night, or the scent of the air freshener I always bought for him when he ran out. Does he wonder what his life would be like with me, or has he moved on and found his own paper straw wrappers?

I know he was in love with me. I knew I loved him. But sometimes things are star-crossed and confusing and they hurt and there’s nothing we can do about it. Sometimes the right people come into your life at the wrong time. Do we pine about it forever, or do we let the world continue knitting while hoping the strings don’t fray?

I look over the photo once more, our shadows on the ground innocent and unaware of the future.

I look over and the boy beside me stretches his arms above him and takes in a deep breath before turning over to me, his brown waves a mess. He smiles from ear to ear and I can’t help but return it.

“Morning, baby.”

“Good morning, Garrett.”

a/n: i sobbed many times writing this im sorry if you like happy endings

taglist: @lustfulslxt @whotfisade @soursturniolo @recklesssturniolo @lxvlysworld @chrisolivia4l @kiarastromboli @mattnchrisworld @cupidsword @kvtie444 @xplrfear @knowingnothingnoel

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo edit #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader

[stevenose]

Mean!Steve taking the piss out of reader for having a one night stand where she didn’t get to finish and catching her walking the guy out early from their apartment and he’s telling her what it would have been like if she just let him sleep with her again (friends with benefits type)

contains: reader with a vagina; some lame-o one night stand guy; dirty talk; some light touching but not a lot; teasing; biting; kissing. 18+ only!

You’re so relieved when Steve’s door is still closed at 5:34 am, your fingers digging into your date’s arm.

“What the problem?” he whispers, laughing at your urgency, but you really don’t think it’s funny.

“Be quiet!”

“Or else what? You got a monster in there?” he points with his thumb behind his shoulder to Steve’s room.

“No,” you scoff. “My roommate - uh, he really likes sleeping in.”

Not true. Steve’s alarm is going to go off at 6 am so he can take a run. You’re trying to get last night’s annoyance out of your apartment before Steve notices. Because Steve is bound to be bitchy, cocky, and possessive if he finds out. You had to beg this guy to be quiet last night, choosing to ride him instead of getting railed so you could control your headboard. You didn’t receive a cocky text, so you’re relatively sure you’re in the clear, as long as you get Last Night to his car.

You only wave him off, no kissing. You’re sure that you won’t be returning his calls. It’s really frustrating how you always end up comparing your escapades to Steve, when you’re trying desperately to move on from your mutually beneficial arrangement.

“Yes, bye,” you say, patting Last Night’s car as he drives away, relief flooding through you. You turn around to go back in and Steve’s there, leaning against the door, shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

You’re resigned to stay quiet, to beeline towards your room before he says anything. But Steve grabs you the moment you step through, leaning back against the door and pulling you flush against his chest. “Who’s that?” he asks, nose trailing up your neck.

You hate the ache between your legs. “Who cares?”

“I care.” His lips press against your ear and his cock presses against your ass, his gym shorts leaving nothing to your imagination. “If you were lonely last night you could’ve come over.”

“Sorry you’re jealous,” you mumble, weakly trying to twist out of his arms.

“Must not’ve been any good,” he tsks, hands moving firmly up your torso. “Didn’t even hear you last night.”

“Well, you sleep like a fucking - like a brick.”

Steve’s thumbs flick across your nipples, barely covered by a cotton shirt. “Let me see you,” he breathes. “Did he mark you up?”

“It’s been a month,” you sigh. “Over a month, Steve.”

“And I miss you,” he smiles, working still on your tits, honing in on your reactions. “You know I could fuck you better than anyone you’ve brought over.”

“That’s not why we stopped.” Your voice catches. “And that’s not true.”

“Not true?”

He almost gives you whiplash with how fast he has you turning towards him. He nearly rips your shirt off, tugging your sleep shorts down - no underwear. His eyes rake over your body, hungry and possessive. His hands rake up your thighs and hips, pressing for any bruising or hickeys, finding none. “Doesn’t seem like they’re very good,” he says, moving your thighs apart. You sigh again, half annoyed and half outrageously turned on. He looks up at you, his hair nearly obscuring his dark eyes. “Did he fuck you last night?”

“Yes.”

Steve’s thumb moves inward to pry your lips apart. You can’t help but to moan, as much as you’d rather not give him the satisfaction. It catches on your hole and he actually laughs. “You’re nearly dry,” he observes. “Jesus, you’re not even gaping. Small, huh?”

You don’t answer, too turned on to focus on his questions. He suddenly bites the fat of your thigh and you gasp, wrapping your fingers in his hair.

“I said he’s small, huh?”

“Not as big as you,” you admit.

“Did you cum?”

You frown. “N-no.”

“Poor thing,” he hums, suddenly retracting, standing back up. When he leans against the door again, he crosses his arms. “Trying to fuck everyone in the city to get a taste of somethin’ like my cock again, yeah?”

“It’s not like that,” you grit.

“What’re you settling for, then?”

You don’t know what to say.

“You know, if I fucked you, you would’ve cum at least twice. From my mouth first, then my cock. Bet he didn’t even eat you out, did he? Did he finger you? Well, guess he didn’t need to stretch you out for anything, huh? Would’ve marked you up a little too. Did he even kiss you, honey?”

“W- we kissed -“

“Oh, but not good, right? Really rushed, probably all teeth. Did he give those sensitive nipples any attention? Look at ‘em, all perked up just from the air.” His eyes are trained on your chest for a moment before he looks downward. “And I would’ve given my cum to that hungry little cunt. Did he even know where your clit was? Must not’ve if you didn’t cum. Bet you’re still aching for something to fill you up. Aren’t you?”

Your mouth stays slightly agape, still at a loss. You want him so badly that you just might tackle him and let your 40 day streak of no touching die out. He smiles smugly and takes a single step forward to catch your mouth in a sloppy kiss - the kind that’s hardly enjoyable but so dirty that you can’t help but to squeeze your thighs together. He pulls back with a wink, hand on your face.

“Shower, get his fuckin’ scent off of you. Want you on my bed when I get back.”

Steve presses a kiss to the tip of your nose before turning on his heel and heading out, leaving you shaking and needy.

#stevenose posts #ns/fw #steve x reader #mean!steve

[thebroccolination]

People Think Krist Is Homophobic (but He Isn’t)

[TW: discussions of homophobia, death threats, "the rape filter joke", etc.]

Last September, I made a thread about The Whole Krist Thing, and I'd like to make a version here on Tumblr as well.

NOTE: My being a queer fan of Krist doesn’t override the feelings or opinions of other queer people. I fully understand that time on this planet is limited and you don't need to exert precious energy into researching an actor. The reason I'm making this is to provide context for people who are new to the fandom or just wondering why Krist is known as homophobic.

- Why I Made the Twitter Thread -

As a queer international fan living abroad, my understanding of Thailand, Thai culture, and Thai language is extremely limited. Like most of us, I rely entirely on translations, both official and fan-made.

After watching SOTUS for the first time in 2020, I saw English-speaking fans claiming that Krist Perawat, the actor who played Arthit, was homophobic. And it wasn't just one or two people saying it. It was dozens. Hundreds. That called for some research. I loved Arthit, and Krist's empathetic portrayal of him didn't mesh with the angry guy in the Instagram photo I was seeing passed around.

I'd made a number of queer Peraya fans on Twitter, so I went to them individually and asked, "What's this about Krist being homophobic?" As queer fans who were knowledgable and openly fond of Krist, I wanted to hear their side of things.

They sent me links and photos and videos and translations that thoroughly explained how Krist's reputation for being homophobic had gotten so out of control. The problem: those things weren't compiled in one place, and they were all on Twitter where the Asian Peraya fandom is most active. Interfans, meanwhile, took the worst of everything they could find and compiled it into contextless videos for Instagram, YouTube, TikTok, etc. Since the vast majority of Krist's fanbase is spread across Asia and many of them don't engage with the international fandom, it's no wonder to me that the homophobia thing has become so ubiquitous over the years.

It's a paradox where, in order to see the evidence of Krist's allyship, you kind of have to be a fan already. Or you have to know which keywords to use to navigate Twitter's nightmare of a search function (I know, Tumblr is worse). While I made that thread, I was regularly texting Peraya I knew things like, "Do you know where that one interview from 2019 is?" or, "Did you take a screenshot of the marriage equality post he made last month?"

The thread was difficult to make, and I'm a fan! What I know of Krist, I know because I've been a fan for three years and I have access to information that fans who have been here much longer can find.

I also procrastinated on making it for ages. I knew the amount of vitriol people hold against him, and I just wanted to enjoy my time in fandom quietly without calling waves of anger and hate to my carefully curated little corner of sunshine.

Then Krist was in a car accident.

And even though he was reportedly driving safely and slowly, Thailand is notorious for its poorly maintained roads and a high number of traffic accidents. Only months after receiving his first driver's license, Krist's car flipped upside down, and he had to reassure fans from the hospital that he was physically all right, just shaken.

Meanwhile, some international fans thought it was funny.

And that's when I started making the thread.

So, with all that said, let's start with Krist's allyship, because I know most of us agree that that's the bare minimum for an actor working in the BL industry and profiting off the queer community.

- Acts of Allyship -

In the early days of their SOTUS fame, Krist and Singto were interviewed about the LGBTQ+ community.

Acceptance and equality is something that the LGBTQ community still struggles to achieve up to this day. But both Singto and Krist believe that this should not be the case. “They are just humans. They are like me, and they are like everyone,” Krist claims. Furthermore, he mentions that we should all be given the freedom to love anyone we want to love. “It’s just natural,” he says.

“They don’t have to understand now,” Singto says, referring to those who can’t grasp same-sex relationships. “One day, when they find their true love, they will realize that love is the same no matter the gender.” Krist adds, “Gender is not relevant when it comes to love. But in case some people still don’t understand this in time, what’s important is that we all give due respect to each other at the end of the day.”

He's also educated himself in colors representative of the LGBTQ+ community.

When Krist and Singto attended an award ceremony for their photoshoot in the gay magazine Attitude, Krist shared a sentiment that he gave to a queer friend of his. "If no one accepts you, you can stay with me, because I accept you for who you are." [Paraphrased]

Despite Thailand's current government leaning on BL series as a new soft power, it's still very conservative, and its people are to this day fighting to see equal marriage recognized.

Krist often adds his voice to this fight on Instagram, specifically as someone who works in the BL industry. These were in 2021 and 2022:

And, like many young people in Thailand, Krist also seems to support the Move Forward party. Earlier this week, he used an orange heart in a tweet to encourage people to go out and vote in the most recent election. One of the many things the Move Forward party is pushing for is the legalization of same-sex marriage "with the same rights and responsibilities as their heterosexual peers", which the current military government actively does not.

- His Circle -

When I was making my Twitter thread, I hesitated before including mention of his queer friends and coworkers. I knew how that would sound, but in the same way I felt it was important to mention my own queerness, I also think it's important to highlight not just the presence of queer people in his life, but how comfortable they are with him.

As I said in my Twitter thread, having queer friends isn’t indicative of anything substantial, but I do think it’s important to look at how those queer friends interact with him. If you’re queer, you know firsthand which friends you’d be physically affectionate with. The entertainment industry is its own world, of course, and the weight and meaning of relationships and connections can be different, but for all Krist's fame and popularity, he's not so famous or remotely powerful that faking a friendship with him is going to get them very far.

Among his queer friends, you've got Jennie who babies him, Godji who treats him like her son, and Oat who still adores him years after SOTUS. All of them queer, all of them visibly affectionate in a way that feels authentic, at least to me.

On the professional side of things, I think the best example of someone who wouldn't bother with him if he were homophobic is Golf Tanwarin Sukkhapisit. In 2022, Krist worked on The War of Flowers with Golf, a nonbinary queer activist, former MP, and director of The Eclipse. Since they're not just a queer person in the industry but a vocal queer activist who's made incredible progress for the community in their country, I value their judgment of his character.

Again, the reason I bring up these people isn't to say, "Look! Queer people! He knows some!"

It's to point out that he's close to them, and it disrespects their judgment to casually assume that they’d cosy up to a homophobe.

It's a small point, yes, but it was important to me when I first became a fan to see that queer people who know him personally had "vetted" him.

- Growth -

For this next section, I'll address three things I see brought up most often: the rape filter joke, the rumor that Krist said he doesn't like watching men kiss, and the claim that he's only doing BL because rent is due.

1) The Rape Filter Joke

In 2017, Krist and Singto were on a live with (I think) two other friends. They were testing out different filters, and when they got to a blur effect, one of them (one of the friends, I think) said it looked like the filter they put over victims of sexual assault on the news. They all laughed, including Krist and Singto.

I can't find a video of the original event, but we do have a translation of the apology he gave in 2018, and the public apology he made in 2020 when the video resurfaced again.

While this is unfortunate, and it would be nice if he hadn’t done it, I’m more interested in how he responds to criticism and his growth afterward. The incident was in 2017, but even speaking on it in 2020, he didn't make excuses for himself.

He apologized, accepted culpability, educated himself, and has never repeated it.

2) Krist "Doesn't Like to Watch Men Kiss"

There's also a claim that goes around that Krist said he doesn't like to watch men kiss. But that isn't what he said.

The subtitled interview that this claim was taken from has been split into two parts, and I think a lot of people have only seen the first half, if they've seen either.

(Also, my deepest apologies, but I'm linking you to Twitter for the video clips.)

In the first clip, the hosts tease Krist about Singto's sex scene with another actor in Close Friends. I can't speak to the nuances of what Krist is saying in Thai, but in the subtitles, he's basically saying that as a guy, he doesn't want to watch stuff like that and just skips past Singto and his partner to one of the other couples, like the male-female pairs. With just this clip, I agree that it doesn't sound great.

But in the second clip, the hosts tease Krist until he admits that the "stuff" he doesn't want to watch is Singto specifically kissing people who aren't him. Krist's jealousy, especially when it comes to Singto, is a well-trod fanservice joke.

3) He's Doing BL Only for the Money

I mean, I have no idea, but it'd be very weird if this was true, because he hasn't been in a BL since 2018 (if you count Our Skyy), and he's doing very well for himself financially.

Listen, this is probably the least serious people get when they criticize him, but I'm including it because why not, this is already a thesis.

From what I understand based on actors' comments, BL roles don't make a lot of money for the actors. (Boun even quoted a surprisingly low daily salary recently, and I'll share it here if I find it again.) Of course, I imagine Krist has enough fame and clout that he gets paid more than most actors, but to be frank, he absolutely makes more from all his other work.

Apart from the acting work he's done, he hosts two music shows, he starred in a musical recently, GMM just flew him to Japan for the first leg of his Asia concert tour, he runs a restaurant with Wave, and he has a bunch of sponsorships. And that's off the top of my head. The car from his accident in 2021 was a luxury model, and he replaced it with another pretty soon afterward. I'm not bragging for him or anything, but the "he's just doing BL for the money" is an odd thing to say when he probably already earns more than most without doing it.

It would have been a better argument back in 2016 when Krist's family was deep in debt. Krist's said that his main motivation to join the entertainment industry back then was to pay off that debt for his family, and he did so with the money he made from SOTUS.

Krist has spoken in the past about wanting to do more BL roles, but GMM preferred that he work with Singto. Now that Singto's left GMM (likely to start his own agency), Krist is in Be My Favorite, so I think his explanation tracks.

It's also worth mentioning that you can do something for the money and also love what you do. In the case of SOTUS, Arthit wasn't just a role that made him money, he's the character who changed Krist's life. He honors Arthit to this day by always wearing the bracelet he wore to his audition and by naming his music studio "SUN St." after Arthit.

(This is a very minor point, but I don't think a homophobe would cherish a queer role to quite that extent even if it was their kick-off point. If anything, they'd probably try to bury the role and pretend their real success started later.)

- Perception of Sexuality -

I think the reason the IG story hits people so hard is because Krist's reaction makes it seem like he's horrified that people could even think he's gay. My understanding is that he was tired of people interrogating him about his sexuality.

Krist is very openly affectionate with the people he loves, regardless of gender, which is clear in the photos with his friends above. Thus, he's always been like that with Singto. They hug before every show, they sleep on each other, cuddle, what have you. All the stuff of people who have developed a tight bond over the years.

When Krist was asked if he was afraid that that would put off potential partners in the future (which, good god, the questions they're asked) Krist said he doesn't care how people perceive his sexuality.

This was in 2018, the year Our Skyy aired, and he's said similar things in passing before and since.

- Conclusion -

All of what I've posted here is just a slice of what's out there. This is just the stuff I could find with reliable English translations because I'm making this for an English-speaking audience. Krist's fans already know all of this, which is why he has queer fans in the first place, and a lot of them are just too tired by hate fatigue to keep correcting misinformation.

I'm not trying to get every person in the world to like Krist, I promise. He's not perfect. He's a loud mess, and while he has four cats who love him, they're also exhausted by him. I just happen to like loud, obnoxious people, especially when they're as kind as he is.

There are plenty of Thai actors I don't vibe with for any number of reasons ranging from serious to petty. You have my written permission to dislike some people.

The Instagram story he posted was a bad move, we're all agreed. He agrees. He's apologized multiple times over the years. Whether one accepts his apologies is each person’s right, and I understand if this is enough to turn people away.

I just hope it's clear that he's been a staunch ally of the queer community and remains so to this day.

Personally, I'm more upset about the question.

This isn't a question you ask anyone.

And this wasn't the first fan to ask him.

According to people who have been fans from the SOTUS era, Krist and Singto were both relentlessly dogged by fans about 1) their sexualities and 2) details about their relationship with each other. We've all likely seen it happen to actors today, but back in 2016, there weren't hundreds of BL actors vying for the spotlight, so the spotlight hit Krist and Singto in a way that we can't imagine today. Most of us, myself included, arrived in this fandom long after SOTUS's meteoric rise to popularity that ended up saving GMMTV from bankruptcy, but given how many fans still behave like they're entitled to know an actor's sexuality, I think it's safe to trust that it was relentless. Fans accusing Kit Connor of "queerbaiting" as recently as 2022 is proof of that.

At the end of the day, there are plenty of reasons to dislike Krist, just like there are to dislike any person on this planet. He's hyperactive, he's whiny, etc. He's not flawless, but I think he's more than shown through his actions that he isn't homophobic, either.

He's not some actor playing queer roles for clout. He's vocally supportive of queer rights, and he backed that up this week in the polls by voting for the most progressive party in his country who are actively pushing for marriage equality.

But like I said, you don't have to like him, so I'll end this post with a quote from a friend who doesn't like Krist for the funniest reason I've ever heard:

"I don't think Krist is homophobic. I just don't like him because he reminds me of every kindergartener who demanded my attention at the exact moment when I was carrying something that could spill – and then it did spill, and they laughed about it for five minutes."

#krist perawat #be my favorite #if you made it to the end then i love you #thai actor #thai bl

[frozenjokes]

Mumbo Doesn’t HATE Furries, But He WILL NOT Go Back To Jail

Mumbo’s phone didn’t ring very often these days. He didn’t care at all to speak to much of anyone, far preferring to text, though he didn’t do much of that, either. These past couple years were lonely, certainly, but in more ways than one, loneliness was far less stressful than his prior alternative. There was peace in loneliness, in his one bedroom apartment, on his laptop, playing games and talking on forums. It was quiet. He liked quiet. He liked this.

When his phone did ring, 9/10 times it was a spam caller, so 10/10 times, Mumbo would end the call with deft fingers, hardly looking at the number. If someone really wanted to reach him, they’d call back. Though, this time, his phone did ring again, a rare and unwelcome occurrence, especially now, since Mumbo was quite focused on the game he was playing and didn’t particularly feel like stopping. So again he hung up, again without looking, huffing at his computer screen.

When it rang a third time, Mumbo groaned out loud, canceling the call before the first ring concluded. There was only one person who called more than twice in a row, and Mumbo did not want to talk to HotGuy. Mumbo didn’t actually want to talk to HotGuy ever, but that didn’t stop the superhero from calling him over and over until he picked up. A battle of wills, one Mumbo had yet to win because seriously, he could waste thirty more minutes ignoring HotGuy’s calls, but then that was thirty minutes of his time he was forced to think about HotGuy, and even if he turned his ringer off, he would still see HotGuy’s name calling when he looked down to check the time, and then he’d feel bad, his conviction would crumble, and he’d pick up, so really, might as well just get this over with.

On the fourth call, Mumbo eyed his phone with great ire, then promptly fell entirely out of his chair with a squeak.

That- That wasn’t HotGuy-

Mumbo scrambled to his feet, his desk chair ending up being a horrible choice to steady himself, and he toppled over as the wheels slid out from under him. Getting to his knees, he hit his head on the underside of his desk, and needed to lay on the floor for a second to recover before moving more slowly, carefully, on this treacherous journey to his phone. All this to say, he did not make it before the ringing ended automatically. Though, Mumbo didn’t even get far enough to pick up his phone before it rang a fifth time. Immediately, he answered.

“Grian! Goodness, you are persistent, aren’t you? Sorry I didn’t pick up right away- In the restroom I was, couldn’t answer the phone. Don’t feel bad though, about calling all those times I mean, it’s good for me, sometimes I don’t look-”

There was a lot of feedback from Grian’s end, the kind of sound Mumbo remembered well from times Grian would pick up the phone while flying. Mumbo always hated talking to him like this, unable to hear most words in lieu of the wind. Wasn’t Grian ever afraid of dropping his phone? “Mumbo!” Grian sounded out of breath, almost heaving, “I don’t feel bad.”

“Ah! Good then, that’s-”

“I want to catch up. It’s been awhile, hasn’t it, pal? I miss you. I want’ta catch up. Would that be fine? Was thinking about you lately. Sound good?” The noise came through sporadically, and predictably, Mumbo understood less than half of what was said. In the sky, Grian had two volumes; mumbled garbled nonsense, and LOUD, which would always make Mumbo flinch. He’d probably scold him over it if it hadn’t been so long since they’d talked. Boy, that was a little sad, wasn’t it.

“That sounds great. I’d love to. When-”

“What’s your address?” Grian’s voice came through so loudly over the wind, Mumbo couldn’t claim he hadn’t heard correctly. Even still, he wasn’t sure he had. Surely Grian hadn’t meant what Mumbo thought he meant.

“You- You want to meet now?”

“Yes. At your house. Right now.”

“Grian, it’s 11:30 at night!”

“Is that a problem?”

“I-” Mumbo shed a somewhat guilty glance at half empty coffee across his desk, mostly forgotten, but certainly not drunk at a reasonable time. Regardless, he and Grian knew he wasn’t sleeping anytime soon. “I guess not- wait.” Mumbo steeled himself, taking a firm breath, “You’re not running from the police or anything, are you? Because I told you, I’m done, retired, no more of this, and I won’t let you talk me into anything either, I’ll send you right on your way.”

“No! No, not that, promise. I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t.”

“There’s been some interesting stuff in the news about you lately. You sure? Not coming to recruit me, are you? I swear, if HotGuy sent you-”

“No! Mumbo, no! Please, I just need a friend.”

Mumbo took a step back, physically and mentally, closing his eyes. No need to go off on the man, not when they hadn’t talked in years. Grian had always been impulsive regardless, this wasn’t exactly out of character.

“Okay. I’ll text you.” Mumbo bit his lip, quite the bad habit given his sharp teeth. Was Grian okay? He sounded winded, but it was a little hard to tell, and flying could be pretty intense exercise.. Mumbo wasn’t sure. This just felt so odd.

“Be there soon.” Grian hung up as he finished the sentence, and Mumbo sighed, navigating to Grian’s contact to give him the address. But as he was hitting send, finger just about pressing the button, he got another call, accidentally accepting it at the same time he sent his text.

He didn’t even see the contact before the speaker exploded into noise, “MUMBO!” HotGuy wailed from the other end and Mumbo groaned, falling back in his desk chair with a hefty thump.

“What do you need.”

“Mumbo, I think I just made a huge mistake and I don’t know what to do! I-I met this guy, and I met him as HotGuy and my normal person identity, and he hates HotGuy but really likes normal person me, and tonight we just had this moment, y’know? He told me like every crime he’s ever committed and all about how he doesn’t feel crazy with all those alter egos and I was just like wow! I don’t want to feel crazy anymore. I want to be known! I want to be seen! So I took the mask off and told him exactly who I was and then he screamed and ran away and then I had a panic attack and I’m still kind of panicking, but I also don’t regret it?? I’m glad I did it! I’m glad he knows! I’m relieved!”

“Great, what’s the problem then, bud?”

“He screamed and ran away!”

“Could be worse.”

“I do not think it could be worse! Five minutes before that we were talking about being a polycule! Well. I was talking about it a little more than he was. It’s complicated. I don’t actually completely understand what’s happening here, but like, he’s kinda in love with his roommate, right, and I’m also a little in love with his roommate and we were going on dates and I think his roommate likes me too but then..” Mumbo started to tune HotGuy out as another call came in, from Cub, what the hell? It had been- fuck, at least ten years since they’d talked- Why? He didn’t even know Cub still had his number.

“HotGuy, buddy, I gotta let you go. Got someone else on the line.”

“Wait- But I’m not-“ Mumbo didn’t wait to hear the rest, hanging up a little more aggressively than probably warranted. He didn’t much care.

“Hello?” He asked, somewhat timidly. Cub had always intimidated him, even when he, Mumbo, and Grian had shared an apartment junior and senior year of college. They had never gotten along quite as well as Cub and Grian did, though, maybe that’s because Grian was the easy sort to talk to, comfortable, at least in his opinion. He could be prickly, but he was fun as well, the type of extremely bad influence that draws you in. Goodness, maybe catching up was a bad idea. Mumbo pursed his lips. But Grian seemed to have changed his tune, at least a little, switching from Criminal to Still A Criminal But Government Approved This Time- maybe it would be fine?

“Hey, Mumbo, sorry for calling so late,” Cub said in the same monotone drone that Mumbo remembered well; that made him so nervous sometimes, but this time, there was a bit of an anxious edge, “I know it’s been awhile, but Grian called me and told me he was visiting you, and he didn’t say so, but I think he’s upset, and I just wanted to make sure- I don’t know,” Cub sounded so lost for a moment, and Mumbo felt his own anxiety fall away. Well, the Cub-related anxiety anyway, the Grian anxiety was alive and well.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I was a little confused when he called me as well, I won’t lie.. I can’t tell you if he was having a hard time, I can barely hear when he’s flying, but-“ Mumbo stopped when his phone started to buzz, seething, “One moment please. I Will Call You Back.”

“Uh-“ Cub sounded a bit startled, “Yeah, man, sure.”

Mumbo hung up, reeling on the other line, “HotGuy. Stop. Calling me.”

Mumbo was pleased to hear stuttering over the speaker, but the satisfaction didn’t last, turning to guilt when HotGuy started to speak, “I- I’m sorry! I’m just having a bit of a crisis here, I needed to talk to someone and- I don’t know- I always just think of you-“

“HotGuy.”

A small pause, then a meek, “Yes?” nearly as quiet.

“I will call you back, but later. Maybe tomorrow. I am dealing with something right now, and you are stressing me out.”

“You’ll call me back?” The change in tone was jarring, HotGuy lighting all the way up and his voice ablaze with what Mumbo could only describe as unadulterated joy.

Mumbo grit his teeth. “Yes. I will call you back.”

“Okay!” HotGuy didn’t miss a beat, any distress that was previously there, gone. Mumbo got the distinct feeling he had just been conned. “Bye, Mumbo!” And not a moment later, HotGuy hung up. Mumbo sighed deep, redialing Cub’s number.

“Hi. Sorry about that.”

“It’s no problem,” Cub spoke quickly and quiet, half mumbling, “Did you say Grian called you tonight? Just wanted to make sure.”

“Uh,” Mumbo hesitated, wondering if he was about to get Grian in trouble, “Yeah, about fifteen minutes ago he did.”

Mumbo heard Cub exhale loudly through his nose and cringed, very much not wanting to be in the middle of this, but Cub didn’t sound frustrated when he spoke, “Okay. He told me otherwise, but I think.. I don’t know what he’s thinking sometimes. I know you know how he can be sometimes, and really, he’s been better lately- I guess I just mean to say if this is too much for you tonight, shoot me a text. I’ll come pick him up. I might be a while if you live far; we don’t have a car right now, but I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

Mumbo shook his head, a bit alarmed, “No, no, you don’t have to. If need be, I’ll drive him home. I’m just as much of an insomniac as I was before, this won’t be a disruption for me..” Mumbo trailed off, feeling bad for even thinking to ask, but anxiety always got the better of him and- damn it, his lip was bleeding again, he had to stop doing that- “You don’t think he’s in trouble, do you? With the police, or any other superhero business.. I- I won’t send him away or anything, but I really don’t want to get tangled up in anything, those days are firmly behind me.”

Cub was quiet for a long moment, clearly taking the question seriously (which Mumbo appreciated), but the silence was also driving him a little crazy. Finally, Cub answered, painfully honest, “I don’t know. I really don’t think so, and I believe that Grian respects you enough to keep that business out of your hair.. He really feels awful about what happened to you, and I know-”

“Please, don’t. I’d rather not discuss it.”

Cub gave a small noise of assent before continuing, “To be perfectly honest, I have no idea what could have happened. Could be as small as a perceived humiliation that he just can’t quite cope with, or as big as.. Well, he’s had to confront a few things about himself in the past few weeks, and change is never easy. Maybe he just needs some space from me. We’ve had some pretty intense, uh, relationship dealings.. It’s not important. He’ll tell you if he wants. But to answer your question, it’s been a bit since Grian has been in trouble with the police. I can’t say for sure, but I really don’t think he’d be dragging something like that to your doorstep. He certainly won’t try and talk you into anything, I’m sure of that.”

Mumbo managed to let go of the breath he’d been holding. “Okay. Thank you, Cub. I should go now, tidy up a bit, but I’ll text you if anything happens.”

“Okay.” There was a bit of a pause, the distinct kind of silence that held unspoken words, so Mumbo waited, though he didn’t need to wait long. “I don’t think anything will happen. I just worry. I just wish he would tell me the truth sometimes.”

Mumbo nodded, though Cub couldn’t see. “I understand. Bye, Cub.”

“Bye.” Cub hung up, and Mumbo was left a moment to breathe. But only a moment, because seconds later, his phone rang once again. Grian. Mumbo picked up.

“I’m here.”

“Alright. I’ll buzz you in. Come right up.”

And Grian wasted no time, scaling the stairs in what must have been record time and knocking on Mumbo’s door no less than a minute later to Mumbo’s great distress. His place was a bit of a mess- no one had visited him in ages, though, Grian wasn’t likely to care. Mumbo took a deep breath, allowing himself to relax. This was fine. This was exciting! It really had been too long since they’d seen each other, and maybe if Grian had really turned himself around, they could even be friends again.

All that hope dropped right through his stomach when he opened the front door.

“Grian.”

Grian looked startled, genuinely so, as if he wasn’t standing in Mumbo’s doorway in full costume, chicken mask tucked conspicuously under his arm. Even his wings were painted, for goodness’ sake, this is not what Mumbo wanted tonight. “I-” Grian seemed to understand what Mumbo was looking at a moment later, looking thoroughly embarrassed, as if he had accidentally shown up at his door dressed as Poultry Man- You know, at this point, Mumbo wasn’t even surprised. “Would you believe me if I told you this is a fursuit.”

“No!”

“Well then you would be wrong, because it is, and has served me well through many cons. She’s a little old, could use some touch-ups, but I take good care of her, and have for years. Did’ja know Poultry Man is a hen, Mumbo? I bet you didn’t. There’s a fun bit of trivia for you.” Grian invited himself in, pushing past Mumbo like he wasn’t even there.

“I- I don’t care if it’s a fursuit or not, Grian!”

“Kinda sounds like you do. Y’know, I didn’t take you as the type to make fun of furries; a bit low in my opinion. I thought you had more class than that, I’ll be honest.” Grian set the head down on the arm of Mumbo’s sofa, then looked back, eyes blinking wide as if noticing for the first time how upset Mumbo actually was, “I’m serious, though. I’m not in trouble, I just wanted to run HotGuy around for a bit. I had a couple things to talk to him about, and I wanted him to know about the other stuff I do in my spare time. No crimes committed tonight, not one,” Grian released a shaky breath, looking distant as he turned his gaze back to the mask.

Mumbo didn’t feel much better. “I don’t really believe you, Grian.”

“I-” Grian turned, having the gall to look angry, but the expression didn’t last, maybe in part due to Mumbo’s own dark look. Still, Grian shook his head, shoulders hunching, “That’s fair. This was stupid of me, I’m sorry. Wasn’t thinking. This was an impulsive thing, dumb. Shouldn’t have called you. I’ll go.” Grian scooped up the head of his costume, turning back toward the door.

“Damn it, Grian, don’t do that.”

Grian’s eyebrows twitched, anger maybe, or distress; his expression was shifting too much to tell. “What? You want me to go. You didn’t want me here in the first place, not like this, and I still came exactly like you told me not to, like a fucking asshole, because I just wasn’t thinking. I’ve done enough, Mumbo, I shouldn’t have come.”

But Mumbo stood in Grian’s way, anger and conflict fighting with the deep desire to see him, to reconnect, to meet and not fight. If Grian left, hating himself, things would be as they always were. Or maybe they’d be worse, their ties severed completely. Mumbo didnt want that. And he promised at least to Cub he’d drive Grian home, but Mumbo didn’t really want that either.

Maybe this had been an accident. A stupid accident, showing up as a long-time criminal, but if Grian had really been so upset like Cub suspected, maybe he wasn’t thinking.

“Tell me about the suit.”

Grian startled, blinking up, “What?”

“Your fursuit. They’re characters, right? They’ve got names and stories I thought, at least some of them do. It’s, uh- sorry, I don’t know the terminology. Does yours have a story?” Mumbo took a seat, giving himself and Grian room to breathe. Grian stared for a moment, body stuttering in his confusion, before sitting on the floor. That was just fine.

“Uh, well, she’s- her name is Adelaide. She’s kinda.. well, she’s not a great person. She’s just.. angry. All of the time. And a lot of things get under her skin, a lot, but what gets to her the most is feeling like other people don’t take her seriously. Drives her mad, really. Makes her feel completely out of touch with herself, with humanity- I know she’s a chicken, just bare with me, okay?”

“I’m baring! I’m baring! Go on.”

“Well, she’s so angry, and it makes her feel less than human. She feels very primally animal, like a wild dog or starving coyote or something- again, metaphorically- this isn’t about like furry racism it’s just- ugh, I’m embarrassed. This is embarrassing.” Grian drew his hands over his eyes, and Mumbo frowned.

“Don’t be, please. I’d really like to hear about it.”

“The story is so old. I kinda got into this stuff after college, just kept it to myself. It needs about a thousand reworks.”

“Well it means something to you, doesn’t it?”

Grian chewed on his lip, reminding Mumbo to stop biting his own. “Yeah. Guess you can tell it hits a little close to home. I just don’t like her very much anymore. I don’t want to be like that. We’re out of touch.”

“That’s fine, Grian. I’m not trying to psychoanalyze you through the chicken character you made ten years ago.”

“Ten years.. Oh god, don’t say that,” Grian gave a small chuckle and Mumbo risked his own, grateful for the ease in tension.

“You don’t have to tell about Adelaide if you don’t want to.”

Grian cringed inwardly, and Mumbo threw up placating hands, worried he’d done something wrong, but Grian only laughed, “Sorry- That was like- super weird for me. To hear someone else say her name out loud, I mean. I don’t know how to explain, but it’s like this person that has lived in my brain for years just got plucked right out and looked at. And I felt it. In my brain.”

“I’m sorry for touching your brain then, mate, ” Mumbo chuckled with the smallest roll of his eyes, “I’m serious though, I feel like I’m making you uncomfortable.”

“You’re not. You’re perfect, I’m just- a little painfully me sometimes- not- I don’t mean to self deprecate, I just can’t tell a story. But I would like to try. If that’s okay.”

Mumbo nodded, “Sure.”

Grian took a breath, and then one or two more. “Adelaide.. She feels out of touch with the world, and she starts to wonder if maybe things would be different if she was a rooster, right? Maybe she wouldn’t be so angry all the time, and maybe people would start to take her more seriously. She’s already got a pretty large cone; that’s the red thing on chickens’ heads by the way, hens also have them, lots of people mistake hens for roosters because-” Grian cut himself off, looking embarrassed, “Anyway, she’s been mistaken for a rooster before, and she’s always liked the idea of having spurs, which, again, are a rooster thing, they’ve got sharp bits on the backs of their legs. So she decides she’s going to give it a shot! See if anything changes. Surprise, this does not solve her anger issues.”

“I figured.”

“Yeah. She’s not treated exactly the same, but she has these different challenges she wasn’t expecting, and she’s pretty reactionary when things don’t go as planned, and is still getting into a lot of fights. She holds her own, though, especially with the new knives on the back of her talons, and one night after a fight outside a bar, she’s approached by this guy, and he tells her he thinks she’s got talent for this kind of thing, fighting and stuff, and that she could earn quite a bit of cash doing it professionally. Cock fighting, essentially. Do you know what cock fighting is, Mumbo?”

“The.. blood sport? Don’t they tape knives to roosters and make them fight until they die?”

“Yeah, essentially. It’s pretty awful stuff, and very illegal- it’s illegal in this universe as well, though the chickens in the ring aren’t actually fighting to the death. Deaths do happen though. It’s shady business, and Adelaide knows that, but she also sees an opportunity here for release, and she’s excited by it. She wants to do this. All under her alias as a man, of course. And so she signs on. Calls herself Poultry Man, which, yes, in a universe where chickens are humanoid, is a ridiculous name, but she doesn’t care. She does care when the audience is betting against her though; she’s smaller than most of the other roosters, and a little feeble looking, so without knowing anything else about her, gamblers think she’s going to lose a lot of her first fights. And that really pisses her off, because, again, she hates being discounted.”

“So she kicks ass.”

“Yeah. And she’s an amateur fighter, but up against other amateur fighters, she’s quite the beast to behold. So she causes quite a few upsets, and suddenly there’s this ‘rooster’ that came out of nowhere and people love her. Life has never seemed so perfect. Yeah, she’s an animal and she’s violent and angry, but that’s okay here. And.. well.. this is kind of where I fall out of touch with the story. Originally, she starts climbing up in the ranks and becoming this more well known cock fighter, but that just doesn’t make much sense to me anymore, and honestly, feels a little cliché. I want her to be challenged sooner, not because she’s met her match or anything and has to rethink this when she can’t win easily anymore.. I don’t know. I want her to change, but I want it to come from herself, you know?

Mumbo hummed to himself, giving it some thought. “What if she kills someone? Early on, but after all the upsets. It’s an accident, but maybe it has something to do with the homemade spurs, right? They’re sharper or longer or something that gave her an edge, and it doesn’t matter to anyone else, it doesn’t even matter that the guy is dead, but she’s never killed anyone before. And that could stop her in her tracks, you know? Really shake her, make her ask if that’s what she really wants.”

“Ooh..” Grian tapped his lips, eyes distant, “That could do it. I feel like I’m so desensitized sometimes, I didn’t even consider..” Grian pursed his lips, “Nevermind. I like this. And she could try to get away from this place, but people like Poultry Man, too much to let him leave. The ring is all sorts of shady anyway, she might have signed some sort of contract and didn’t even realize. By the time she tries to get out, it’s too late. And suddenly, someone who’s never been afraid to die before is petrified, because what if she dies like this, angry and bitter and a murderer, and she never gets the chance to change.”

Mumbo raised an eyebrow at that, and Grian jolted up, catching the look before Mumbo could hope to conceal it, “You said you weren’t psychoanalyzing me!”

“Hey, I never said anything.”

“You say things with your dumb face just as loudly as you speak words!”

Mumbo gasped in mock offense, turning his head away, “How dare you! I’ll have you know, this face is not nearly as dumb as it was a few months ago when I nixed the mustache, and here I was thinking I was finally starting to look normal again.”

“You- You shaved it? Why?” Grian wailed and Mumbo laughed, sighing contentedly.

“Had a bit of a crisis. Was an impulse decision I'm afraid, very impulsive. Truly a tragedy. And you should’ve seen me after, goodness, I was speedrunning the five stages of grief like my life depended on it, and just when I thought I had accepted it, it would start all over again. You would’ve laughed until you ran out of air to make fun of me.”

“I would have cried, Mumbo!”

“You would have laughed!” Mumbo pointed an accusatory finger, and Grian did laugh, resting his hands behind his head and leaning against the arm of the sofa with a sly look.

“I probably would have laughed.”

“Uh huh. I would have sent a picture in a complete panic and you would have called me just to laugh at me. And maybe you’d feel just a bit bad and try to tell me it was fine, but then you’d see the picture again and start cackling just like you do, and I’d be in complete ruin.”

Grian huffed, though the smirk never left his face. “Maybe then it would be your fault for sending me the picture. Since you know so much about how I’d react. Speaking of, do you have one?”

Mumbo gasped, affronted, “Even if I did, I would not show you!”

Grian snickered, slinking up onto the couch, “So you do have one,” he grinned, sharp teeth on full display, “I bet you haven’t changed your phone password since we were in college. A few months ago, hm?”

“Grian!” Mumbo yelped, scooching to the other side of the couch, but Grian crawled after him, stalking like a cat. “You don’t even remember it I bet. You don’t remember anything!”

“How about you hand over your phone and we’ll see just how much I remember,” Grian spoke silkily, batting his eyelashes, and Mumbo scowled, sticking out his tongue, however, was distinctly not ready for Grian to actually pounce, screeching as flapping wings battered his face and talons poked holes in his shirt. Perched on his shoulders, Grian bent over Mumbo’s head, snatching his phone out of his lap (dropped as Mumbo tried to protect his face with his arms) and entering the password with a few swift clicks. Grian did not move from Mumbo’s shoulders when he finished, apparently satisfied, and unceremoniously dropped Mumbo’s phone back at his knees. The flapping stopped when he got his balance, and Mumbo grumbled, shutting off his unlocked phone.

“Point proven. You know I hate when you do that, right?”

“Steal your phone?” Grian asked, innocent, and Mumbo rolled his eyes.

“Sit on my shoulders. This has never ended without me getting hurt. You losing your balance, hitting me in the head, digging into my shoulders, pulling my hair, scratching my face-”

“Hey, hey, it’s been a while since I’ve done any of that! Years, even!”

“Yeah, only because we haven’t seen each other for that long, I’m sure nothing has changed. This night is going to end with bloody scratches across my face, guaranteed.”

“I’m offended.”

“Good!”

“I’ll forgive you if you show me that picture.”

“I am not-” Mumbo stopped himself, eyebrows furrowing in thought, “I’ll show you..” he began, careful, “if you tell me what you’re running away from tonight.”

Grian quieted, his talons digging a little in Mumbo’s shoulders, “Alright. But you show me first because this might kill the mood.” He shifted his weight, leaning forward expectantly, and Mumbo relented, starting the scroll through his photos to find the picture. As expected, the moment Grian laid eyes on it, he cackled, flapping his wings for balance then falling off Mumbo’s shoulders altogether in a giggling heap.

“It’s really not that funny.”

“But you look so distressed! So- so upset! Your upper lip, oh no! Mumbo! You poor thing!” Mumbo did not get the sense Grian actually felt very bad, curled up and snickering as he was. “A Mumbo without his mustache,” Grian continued, almost dreamily, “That’s a cruel world, a cruel cruel world.”

“Alright, alright, it’s your turn then,” Mumbo batted at a wing that flew a little too close to his face, and Grian giggled, sighing before spreading himself out to lay down properly, talons draping over Mumbo’s legs. It was comfortable, a thing like this. Like decades old friendship. Like nothing had changed.

“Okay.” Grian began with conviction, raising his hands in a vague gesture, “I’m going to need you to imagine you’re me, alright? Not only are you me, but you are me who has been off his meds and faffing about in therapy for a few months, so you’re a me who isn’t in a good state. So you’re me. And your roommate, Cub still, finds out you’re a somewhat prolific supervillain, confronts you about it, and your brain just short circuits, so you run away determined to make your own life worse somehow in order to not think about what just happened ever again. Hey, wait a minute-“ Grian stopped, turning an accusatory glare Mumbo’s way, “How did you know I was CuteGuy?”

“Uh, it was pretty obvious, mate. Especially the recent stuff with you on the news and all those clips of you talking. Can’t say you make a massive effort to disguise your voice, and even mostly covered by that mask, you’ve got a pretty recognizable face.”

Grian groaned into his hands. “That is so annoying.”

“In all fairness, I wouldn’t have guessed you were Poultry Man like, ever. The mask that covers your whole head and the fact that you never speak in costume makes you near impossible to identify. Continue, though.”

Grian huffed, grumbling something inaudible to himself before going on, “Fine. Okay. So you’ve imagined you’re me and you’re having a bit of a crisis.”

“I’d rather not be having a crisis, but for you Grian, I’ll pretend.”

“Thank you. So you go to this bar, and it sucks, it’s awful, it’s everything you were looking for, and you meet this guy, and maybe you cried or something, and he’s kinda worried about you, so then you make a complete fool of yourself at his feet, like bad, like beg to go home with him- yes, in that way, and also ask him to buy you drinks and probably other extremely embarrassing awful vulnerable things because you’re having a crisis and you don’t want to go home and face it.”

“Yikes. Can’t believe I did that.”

“Exactly! Yikes. But this guy is very nice, he’s very very nice, and when you tell him you can’t go home, he says he has a spare room, and that you can have it as long as you need, and right now you’re desperate and you’re having a crisis so you just say yes, but later when you’ve calmed down a bit and you’ve gotten a little sleep, you realize how lucky you are that you met such a nice guy, and you’re so unbelievably grateful, and you still aren’t ready to go home, but this guy doesn’t mind, he likes having you around, and even though you do eventually go home and talk about your problems with Cub, you and the guy from the bar stay friends, and you go over to his house to hang out with him and watch movies and bake cookies and it’s fucking awesome.”

“Yes. I can see it. This guy is great.”

“Yes! And what’s best, is that you really feel like you can tell him anything. So whatever’s on your mind, you say it, and you know what’s on your mind a lot? HotGuy. YOU HATE HOTGUY. He’s arrogant, egotistical, does zero research on basically every sponsor he takes, he’s careless, he’s stupid- seriously, he is so fucking dense and people just eat that shit up and it drives you CRAZY. It has for months! You sit and doomscroll in your room and you just see clips of him acting like a fucking idiot and everyone in the comments is like ‘oh my god, he’s so cute!’ ‘oh my god, I hope I can meet him one day!’ ‘oh my god, I wish he would talk to me that way!’ So you start making burner accounts just to leave hate and argue with people-“

“Okay, you know, I was on board until that last bit-“

“-but it’s not enough! It’s never enough for you, so you decide to punch someone about it, and then you keep punching people and you call yourself cUtEgUy to satirize him and eventually you punch enough people that you get his attention, and guess what? HE’S A FUCKING ASSHOLE.” Grian took a deep breath, centering himself, and Mumbo didn’t dare speak. “But it’s okay. Because the nice guy from the bar doesn’t like HotGuy either. And he’s more than happy to listen to you and even commiserate a little bit. And you feel great! You feel great. Cub doesn’t care very much about superhero stuff so he kinda spaces out when you start ranting, but also- forgot to mention, you can’t actually throw shit fits about HotGuy around him anymore, BECAUSE HOTGUY WANTS IN HIS FUCKING PANTS!”

“Wait- wait-“

“I KNOW!” Grian shrieked into his hands, completely misunderstanding the meaning behind Mumbo’s bewilderment, “So HotGuy, who you hate, gets eyes for your roommate, who you’re in love with by the way, and you have to watch the two of them bumble about- well, Cub doesn’t bumble, but HotGuy bumbles, god, he’s so fucking pathetic around Cub I just want to tear out my fucking hair- But. But. It’s okay. One: Because you have the guy at the bar, and you’re pretty sure he likes you as well, and maybe while Cub is putting himself out there, you can too, and it can all be great. Two: You are a mature adult, and you can talk to other adults about how you’re feeling, and be honest with them, and even though you don’t like HotGuy, you’re willing to admit he’s not as bad as you first thought, and that you’ve been unfair to him, and you’re going to try to stop being such an asshole.”

Grian paused, but it was not the type of pause that invited conversation. And even all these years later, Mumbo could spot an incoming Grian explosion from a mile away.

“And you know what HotGuy says to you? After all that?”

Mumbo stared. Grian didn’t need an answer.

“HE AND MICAH. ARE THE SAME! FUCKING! GUY!!!” Grian beat the couch with his fists, and Mumbo moved to give him the space to do so, pretty sure he could assume ‘Micah’ was the same as ‘guy from the bar.’ Hm. Yeah. He didn’t need to speak, Grian seemingly far from done. “How am I supposed to be nice to him now. How am I supposed to go to work? What the fuck is wrong with him! Seriously, what is wrong with him? I swear to you, I swear, Micah is a completely different person- and I’m not being unobservant either, they have different mannerisms, completely different voices! I pegged them as brothers, and Micah told me I was right, he told me this horrible tragic backstory and how the two of them had grown apart and couldn’t mend their relationship- it was so real Mumbo. Their- personalities, I swear to you, different. And what breaks my brain the most- HotGuy was talking total shit about himself for weeks. WEEKS. I don’t- does he just fucking hate himself? What is happening? Why did he do that!? That is an Objectively insane thing to do. Is this like- revenge? Is this karma? Was this some sort of elaborate plan by him to fuck my head??? I want to kick his shit in! I want to cry.” Grian collapsed limp into the sofa, an arm, wing, and leg hanging off the side.

Mumbo considered him, unsure whether or not he should speak. But Grian looked thoroughly burnt out, his assault on the couch along with the tirade seeming to snuff the fire. Now, he just stared blankly at the ceiling, not moving, not crying, just.. gone.

“Do you want a hug?” Mumbo couldn’t offer much more, but it seemed to bring Grian back, the other side-eying him through lidded lashes.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled, and he sounded just as winded as he looked, “I just don’t have a back up plan anymore. I don’t have anyone. Anyone that isn’t Cub, I mean, and this whole- my whole plan depended on Micah. He was going to take me out tomorrow. Help me make friends. We were going to-“ Grian cut himself off painfully, unable to finish. His wings quivered. Mumbo’s heart ached for him.

“You know my boundaries now, Grian. I know you do, and I can see that things have changed pretty drastically since we’ve last talked.. I know it. And I don’t know everything, obviously, but I.. it really feels like you’re trying to turn yourself around. Like you’ve made a lot of progress. I’m proud of you, Grian.” Again, Grian eyed him from the side, and Mumbo hoped he could tell he was being genuine. “Listen.. If you need a friend, then you’ve got one in me, alright? You’ve got one here.”

Grian was still for so long, Mumbo wasn’t even sure if he heard, but then Grian was up, and in a flash of feathers, strong arms were locked around his waist and fuck did he mean it when he said strong, christ, it was a good thing Mumbo didn’t actually need to breathe. Grian didn’t seem to notice, nor did Mumbo see fit to tell him, instead wrapping his own arms around the shorter, tight above the base of his wings.

Grian sighed, something deeply shaken. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” And Mumbo meant it. God did he mean it.

#hermitcraft #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #mumbo jumbo #grian #cubfan #cubfan135 #hermitfic #hermitcraft fic #hermitshipping #but not much #cubscar #waffle duo #hotguy #cuteguy #poultry man

[stoat-party]

Evaluating Which Details Pose Continuity Issues (yeah, it’s long, sorry)

I’m being relentlessly annoyed by (some) people mad at the show and by (some) people mad at people mad at the show, so let’s clear up where the issues are and aren’t so we’re not just talking over each other here.

Destroying the Strip

Obviously not a retcon. Retcons refer to previously-established events. Some people might have their own problems with it (I definitely saw it cited as evidence of a coordinated attack on New Vegas), but it presents no continuity problems.

2. What exactly is a vial?

I don’t think this changed ghoul lore. They can still go 200+ years without turning, or they can start turning as soon as they get ghoulified. There’s just a new plot element where they can stave off the effects of going feral for awhile if they take this mysterious drug - without the drug, the rules are still the same. The story was NOT clear on this, and it confused me, but if ghouls need drugs to stay sane, Oswald, Dean, Billy, etc. could not exist even if there’s a massive industry in vials of goop that’s never been mentioned before.

3. It took Vault-Tec decades to build all the vaults.

This is something I worried about because there couldn’t have been much time between the boardroom scene and the bombs falling (Janey doesn't age). But I think it makes sense if you assume the vaults were already built and they filled them with experiments afterward. It does leave the problem that some vaults were unfinished but Vault-Tec also dropped the bombs - why would they do that before finishing their vaults? It’s possible that they planned to drop them but got beat to the punch, or any number of other explanations. Clear retcon but not a huge plot hole.

4. House is worse than Caesar all of a sudden?

This one’s a private gripe of mine because House and Sinclair were not originally written to be Actual Sadists Who Hate Humanity. There’s also House’s mastermind prepper attitude toward the apocalypse, which doesn’t indicate that he had a hand in orchestrating it. While the change doesn’t conflict with the text as far as I know, it really changes the flavor of the game, but not as much as:

5. The Fall of Shady Sands

Let’s say that this happened after the first battle of Hoover Dam, so no continuity issues with their ability to win that. (That’s probably why they set it in 2277, so the NCR would have almost four years to recover before NV. As if Caesar wouldn’t have taken half of their land by then, even with his armies crushed, but ok fine he’s going through a divorce, he’s busy right now.)

But are you telling me that a country can lose a massive city containing much of its infrastructure, most of its central government, and ~5% of its population and still be trying to manifest destiny four years later with no mention of it?

Losing the Divide as a travel route almost crippled the NCR in the Mojave for awhile. Now, not only have they lost the Divide and their capital city, but one of their other biggest cities, the Boneyard, is abandoned and inhabited by an apparently-unaffiliated town. (Yeah, Los Angeles is big, but we don’t see any NCR or Followers despite three main characters traveling through it.) Even if there were still people there during New Vegas, how is the NCR still conducting a campaign in the east?

Also, who is Muldover and what’s her position? Why does she have raiders at her disposal? Is that really supposed to be what remains of the government? I get that some of this will be resolved later, but short of complete societal collapse, there’s no explanation.

We don’t see any of this in New Vegas. The president (who was in office in 2277) is still alive. No one mentions losing family in the explosion. Caesar, Ulysses, and House, along with the many other characters who complain about the NCR’s weakness and instability, don’t bring it up. People even mention the politicians in Shady Sands specifically. PEOPLE ARE MAKING JOKES ABOUT WANTING A NUCLEAR WINTER-

Now there’s a saving interpretation going around that “the fall of Shady Sands - 2277” refers to a metaphorical fall, and the explosion was later. I’ll accept this if I have to, but don’t pretend it’s not a strained reading. Every entry on the board is dated. Why would you date an amorphous event and not date the city exploding?

The explosion was nineteen years ago, and it had to be that early because Lucy and Norm don’t remember living there. (Not clear how old they are but probably in their early-mid 20’s.) The earliest you could place the event without it making no sense is late 2282, because with the time skips in DLC, the events of New Vegas are about a year long. Maybe you could put a gap between Lucy returning to the vault and the actual destruction, but not a five-year one. And if it was in 2282, Max would still be a teenager.

There are legitimate concerns here. Between House and the NCR, the show changes a lot about the main conflict of New Vegas. It’s not just side details.

Not telling you how to feel! Just don’t pretend nothing poses any problems and people are crazy for being concerned. I think the vibe right now is to dismiss me as a hater, but I hope you can see I’ve tried to make it all work. Continuity is really important in a multi-decade story, especially to writers.

I will be appeased by a respectful and thought-out New Vegas remake that preserves as much of the original continuity as possible and is also really good and costs $4. Thanks in advance Bethesda.

Edit:

6. Tatoes in the vaults

TATOES IN THE VAULTSSSS? THIS IS MASSIVE DISRESPECT TO THE LORE. EVERYTHING WE KNOW IS DESTROYED. UNFORGIVABLE.

(but yeah there shouldn’t be tatoes in a vault that hasn’t opened)(maybe norm and lucy had seeds in their pockets when they came back, sure)

#house is also retroactively a giant cutie #hi honey hiiii #where you going with that mustache and hubris #giant plot hole why is he gorgeous #fallout #fallout new vegas #new vegas #fallout amazon #fallout show #fallout tv series #fallout 2024 #fallout prime #fallout series #Mr. House #fnv #fallout tv #fallout show spoilers #fallout tv spoilers #fallout spoilers #fallout prime spoilers #fallout 2024 spoilers #fallout series spoilers #fallout Amazon spoilers

[hopelessdelusional]

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You slam your phone down, annoyed at your friends persistence. Normally you’d be enjoying Shoto and Hitoshi’s bickering, it would even take your mind off your problems, but instead you’re being expected to act like an adult. How unfair was that?

“Are you okay y/n?”

The voice of Bakugou’s Agent quickly brought you back to reality. You had decided to have your break in the studio, wanting to have some peace and quiet before having to deal with Bakugou’s weird passive aggression.

You ran a hand down your face, rubbing your tired eyes gently. You didn’t want to make a scene, nor want to worry anyone. Today was the last day of the shoot, it was already a huge success. Multiple magazines and companies lined up waiting to buy and order these prints, and your résumé was forwarded to a lot of companies. This was a dream come true for you, you’ve worked your ass off for opportunities like this. If this was such a big success, why did you feel like shit? Why was your accomplishment being overshadowed by a…guy?

“Yeah, just a little tired.”

You let out a sigh, feeling your chest get tight.

Allison had slowly become a friend of yours. You had found yourself texting her causally and even made plans to go to lunch this weekend in order to celebrate the success of this shoot.

She sat down in the chair next to you, staring at the empty set in front of you.

Being able to direct and shoot was exhilarating. People turned to you for help, for guidance. It made you feel like all those shit jobs being disrespected and abused were all worth it. You were finally able to realize that you had made it, and things were going to finally start changing. For the better.

“I just have to say, it’s been an absolute pleasure to work with you.”

She wasn’t looking your way when you turned to face her, taking a moment to examine her face. She looked calm, and content. Allison finally faced you, now making eye contact.

“Yeah, it’s been great. I’m lucky to have had such an amazing experience after my break.”

She smiled at you, and you broke eye contact in order to take in the studio one last time. It was almost three, which meant you only had three more hours until this project was over. You could retire the binder you made, and the many slideshows and docs were going to be soon long forgotten in your computer.

“So why do you look so depressed?”

Her words were serious, but a part of you felt as if she knew the answer to that. Anyone who knew both you and Bakugou had to see that there was tension between the two of you, the chemistry that was once there now long gone.

You sighed, finding yourself in a mix of emotions. You were annoyed, but not at your friends, but at yourself. Maybe they were right? Maybe the brash and confident blond was falling for you.

“I think-no. No, I know Bakugou is upset with me right now. I said something that I didn’t think would affect him, but I was mistaken.”

It felt good to get that off your chest, finally being self aware and conscious of the problem in front of you, so you continued.

“I know if I leave the job without trying to talk it out with him I’ll regret it and hate myself for it. I just-God! Why is it so hard to be an adult?”

You were now face first into your hands, Allison’s hand quickly making its way to rub gentle circles on your back. You knew you sounded childish and immature, but it was truly what you felt like.

“Katsuki has always been a bit of a hassle to communicate too, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t kind hearted. He can be petty and a little immature, but when he cares about something and wants that something, he does everything he can in order to get it. He will listen to you, and he will talk it out with you. Bakugou Katsuki is many things, but he’s not a quitter.”

The air felt still when Allison was done speaking. It seemed as if all the noises and hustling ceased to exist. Your mind was scattered with thoughts and ideas, and you finally sat up. You looked at Allison, hoping that the look you gave her was words enough, for you couldn’t find anything to say back.

However, you were surprised to see the staff come in earlier than when the break ended. Everyone settled in and you gave Allison one last smile. She smiled in return, and jumped to her feet. She held out her hand to you, and you took it. With your hand in hers, she took the opportunity to pull you into a bear hug, making you laugh in surprise. She gave you one last squeeze before letting you go. You watched Bakugou out of the corner of your eye, watching the makeup artist fix up his black eye makeup. Allison gave you a quick wink before running off to the blond, filling him in for the rest of the day.

Okay. You got this, it wasn’t going to be easy, but you got this.

The clean up for today went a lot smoother today.

You’ve been able to pick up a good rhythm with the people you’ve been working with for almost a month now. There was music playing, hugs and numbers being exchanged, and plenty of inside jokes being recited. You honestly don’t remember the last time you had this much fun in a work environment, it was magical.

You sat on the floor after everything was cleaned up. Next to you was your equipment, and you allowed yourself to really think of everything, especially Bakugou.

You scan the room to find him, pleasantly surprised to see him leaned against a wall staring at you. When the two of you made eye contact he was the first to break away. He was walking out of the studio in an instant, and without thinking, you jumped up grabbing your supplies and chased him.

You felt like a literal maniac chasing this man to the door. He had made it pretty far considering you had to gather your supplies and make quick goodbyes to your coworkers. Sure, it may have come off as rude, but with Allison there she was able to get you out of there in order to catch Bakugou before he left.

“Yo! Pretty boy!”

You started to pick up your pace after opening the door to leave the building. The model wasn’t very far, but you knew you needed to get his attention in order to stop him from getting farther.

Bakugou jolted, obviously hearing you but not very sure it was you he wanted.

You smiled, and continued.

“Yes you Bakugou,” you couldn’t help it as a laugh emitted from your lips. Bakugou turned around as soon as name was spoken, his face disturbingly neutral.

He stopped, which you were over the moon grateful for. You honestly didn’t know what you would have if he didn’t stop and allow you to talk to him.

Probably throw your shoe at him.

He stood patiently with his hands in his expensive pants as you jogged in his direction some more. God were you grateful Izuku got you going to the gym with him. It would have been painfully embarrassing for you to be panting like a dog by the time you caught up with the very obviously in-shape man.

“You didn’t even say goodbye.”

The two of you stood in front of the community garden. It was blooming with so many vibrant flowers, different blues, pinks, reds, and greens. The sky was still light, cloud littering your world. It felt all too much like a scene in movie, especially the way he was looking at you.

You could understand why everyone thought you liked you romantically. He looked at you with such passion in his eyes, like he put all of his thoughts aside in order to focus on you. The lowering sunlight hit his eyes just right, they lit up in such an unfamiliar way and you couldn’t help but wish you could look at him in this lighting more often. He had changed back into a hoodie and sweatpants, and yet he still looked like he deserved to be in an art museum, every piece of him was perfect. You honestly had to fight the urge to whip out your camera right then and there in order to capture this perfect moment.

“They all said goodbye to me when we were in the break room. You just weren’t there.”

You knew the words were supposed to be passive aggressive, but all you could think about was the fact that he noticed you weren’t there.

Suddenly you felt your heartbeat quicken, feeling like a child back in high school when talking to their crush.

Shit.

Bakugou observed you, shifting back and forth on his feet. You were annoyed at how good he was at hiding his emotions. Meanwhile you were certain he could read you like a damn book, being able to read your emotions just by looking at your posture.

You honestly didn’t know what to say to him, or how to start this conversation. He probably has places to be, maybe another job, or just wants to get home. You need to be clear and to the point, thoughtful and sound smart. Don’t just blurt something out because of the awkward tension-

“You’re avoiding me because of what I said.”

…Or you could just say that.

Immediately you flinched at the stupidity of your words as Bakugou also physically reacted. He too was definitely shocked at your boldness and you couldn’t say you blamed him. He quickly recovered though, but he broke eye contact giving you a breathtaking view of his jawline.

“I guess.”

Fuck. You didn’t know what else to say. He was now avoiding eye contact, which was something that he had never really done with you. You felt that anticipation rise up from your stomach and into your throat. You couldn’t keep standing here in silence, you needed to talk to him.

No. You needed to apologize to him.

“Look Bakugou I’m so sorry-“

“You have nothing to be sorry for y/n.”

Your mouth clamped shut in an instant. His red eyes were looking back into your eyes. You didn’t realize how much you missed the eye contact until it was back, and it almost knocked the breath out of you.

Bakugou must have noticed how abrupt his words were, so he closed his eyes momentarily then cleared his throat.

“I’ve never been in a…situation like this before.”

The wind started to pick up, adding to how beautiful he looked. There was an adorable blush that painted his cheeks, but he stood tall. Unfortunately you couldn’t really say the same for yourself. You were still hunched over squeezing your bag which contained the camera you had to fight every cell in your body in order not to pull out and snap a picture of the God of a man standing in front of you.

“I should have talked to you sooner, I know. I was acting like a dumbass and when I realized, I guess I felt like a text wasn’t enough. I tried to summon up the courage to talk to you but I think I was just…”

His head dropped, and that confidence you knew him so well of having had vanished.

Hesitantly, you took a step forward, being careful to place your bag down before doing so. With your left hand, you slowly and gently cupped his right hand. Bakugou’s head whipped up, eyes full of uncertainty and anxiety.

“This is quit an unique situation we got ourselves into, Bakugou. Words are hard, but, I really care about you and I want you in my life.”

Suddenly feeling confident, you took another step further. Bakugou didn’t move away, in fact you saw his shoulders relax and felt his hand get closer to yours.

“Katsuki is my name.”

His voice was soft, but stern. In fact, he said it so bluntly, it caught you completely off guard. That was truthfully the last thing you thought he would respond with. You slowly recovered, watching how Katsuki’s confidence returned to him. Despite that, his eyes were softer than before, more trusting, which made you understand his comment more.

“I forgive you, and I’m sorry Katsuki. I never meant to hurt you.”

That’s when it happened, Bakugou Katsuki pulled you into a hug.

He was warmer than you expected, and the hoodie he was wearing was much softer than it looked. His arms were now wrapped around your shoulders, but you were more hesitant to cuddle into him. He delicately set his head down on your shoulder, and that’s when you decided to sink into his touch, completely nuzzling your head into his neck.

This was crazy. This was crazy, wasn’t it? You were fully hugging Bakugou Katsuki. After the first day of shooting you took the liberty of looking him up and read up about him as well as stalking looking into his social media. The only words you could find to describe him was a cold hearted bitch. Now? You were cuddling with him. In public.

What the fuck was your life.

He was the one to pull away first. You were a little lost in your swarming thoughts so you really didn’t know how long you were standing there. That beautiful blush was still very apparent on his cheeks, and you couldn’t help but give him a teasing smile.

“You’ve been hanging around Allison too much.”

You bent over to get your bags, so you didn’t have the pleasure of watching his face morph at your comment.

“Tch, tell me about it.”

You laughed, butterflies dancing around in your stomach. You didn’t want to think about how much you enjoyed that, how much you wanted to stay in his arms forever. You didn’t want to dwell on the fact that the more you think about him, the more you start to remember how soft his lips were during that drunken kiss. But you certainly didn’t want to think about how mature he is. How kind, funny, and talented Katsuki is. He is a literal dream, and you didn’t want to think too hard about how damn happy he made you.

“Walk me to my car?”

Katsuki smiled at you, a beautiful, real, genuine smile.

“I guess.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

if this was a movie

(i’m gonna pretend like i didn’t post this literal SECONDS before the day is over)

this was so dramatic oh my LAWRD HAHAHA

i was living writing this (not rlly) and i bet y’all thought there would be a kiss HA (soon my loves, soon)

also i don’t wanna sound like a bitch but it’s pride month so i can say whatever i want-why the hell are my notes going down like with every post ESPECIALLY with my last post when tumblr marked it mature??? you best believe i sent a stingy ass note on they ass bc mama i am NOT gonna let that slide

anyways i love u guys thank u for all the love and support, i wanna post more stuff other than just bkg so PPPLLEEEAASREEE give me requests or even ask me questions!!! since i can’t reply to comments i wanna talk to u guys more so hit me up!! i promise i’m not an actual bitch (kinda)

fun facts! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

- i miss doing fun facts :(

- Allison is a sweetie pie and i kinda wanna do like a little thingy of how i picture her so you guys can picture her as well

- zu was like seconds away from texting bkg being like “u whore i want u to listen to y/n and get ur shit together”

- speaking of: they still text a lot like keeping each other updated on their lives bc I SAID SO

- y/n and bkg sat in his car for like 20-30 minutes just talking and i’m sobbing now bc i’m SO FUCKING SINGLE HESUS

- literally felt sick to my stomach while writing the hug scene hello???

- bkg is so sassy i love him

- kaminari and hitoshi were talking abt someone from high school getting married and toshi got distracted and forgor to reply LMFAO (he’s just like me fr)

- zu ALWAYS texts y/n when they post smth sus on their priv twitter

- the original title for this episode was illicit affairs but then i wrote the line “it felt like a movie” or sum shit and a light bulb popped up

- also the way i’m ADDICTED to the little strikethru and that indented shit like UGH live, werk

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[teaberrii]

Chapter Twenty-Four: Right Around the Corner

Alhaitham has the looks and the smarts. He will also be the stand-in CEO for his grandfather's company for a year.

But, he's been mysteriously cursed to turn into a cat every night since his eighteenth birthday… until he meets you, an employee at his grandfather's company, who rescues him as a cat and changes him back with one kiss.

Alhaitham/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on AO3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

When Childe walks in through the front door of this parent’s place, he knows something is wrong. The place is nearly empty with only a couple of boxes—big and small—lying around the living room. The floor is also dirty, which Childe guesses are from the remnants of packing. He knows his mother. She cannot stand a dirty floor. So, where is—

“You came.”

Childe looks up and sees his father carrying a small box and slowly coming down the stairs.

“Of course,” Childe says. “Did you expect me not to come when you said you were moving?”

“Moved,” his father clarifies. Childe is about to take the box from him but his father dodges his attempt and puts it on the kitchen counter. “...I’m just back to take care of some last-minute things. Your mother is already in Snezhnaya.”

“I didn’t think you’d be in such a hurry to leave.”

His father turns to him. “We had no choice.”

"Do you hate Sumeru that much?

“Is that what you think?”

“If it’s not, then just tell me,” Childe says, the last of his patience leaving him. “You and Mom have been ignoring my calls… my texts.” He sighs. “I have no idea what’s been happening.”

His father inhales sharply. “Your mother had to leave... for the sake of her health.”

“...Her health? Wasn’t it because you got a promotion?”

His father leans against the kitchen counter and looks his son in the eyes. “Your mother’s sick.”

Childe’s gaze hardens. This is a bombshell he obviously isn’t expecting. Sick? With what? For how long? And… how? She sounded healthy on the phone. Every time he saw her, she also looked well. How can—

“...It started with her saying she was having difficulty seeing. She went to a doctor and they didn’t find anything wrong. But then it started to escalate.”

For a brief moment, the rest of his father’s words fall on deaf ears as it sounds like something out of a horror movie. But what Childe can’t believe is that his parents kept this from him.

“...It's getting harder for her to move,” his father says. “One of the doctors recommended someone in Snezhnaya who specializes in these kinds of diseases. She’s staying at a hospital right now.”

“It’s… curable, right? She will get better… right?”

“That’s what I’m hoping,” his father answers quietly. “There’s no known cure, but people have recovered.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?" Childe demands. "Because you didn’t want me to worry?”

“What could you have done, Childe?”

The question throws him off guard. Yet, it’s also true. What could he have done if he’d known?

His father sighs. “...Even I didn’t know what to do.”

“...Is that why she asked me to move back?”

“I hope you know we want what’s best for you,” his father says. “Isn’t that the case with every parent? Your mother knows you’re talented. She knows you’ll get better opportunities at Snezhnaya, and… you would be with her.”

“That still doesn’t address the core of the problem. Mom is sick. That’s a separate problem from the fact that even after all these years, you still don’t accept what I do for a living.”

“Maybe we’re too old-fashioned. It’s true we don’t know how the entertainment industry works. But everything is still dependent on numbers, is it not? A show or a film does well because this many people streamed it? Viewed it? Whatever the correct term is.”

“...Yes, that’s true.”

“So, it really doesn’t matter if the content is good. It just depends on the numbers.”

Perhaps Childe underestimated how much his father knew about his industry.

His father walks up to him. “I’m not in the mood to have this conversation with you right now. I’m leaving for Snezhnaya the day after tomorrow. It… would be nice if you could visit your mother. Not for my sake but hers."

As Childe hears his father walk back upstairs, he looks around the empty living room. The house he grew up in that was once full of life—the good and the bad–was now… dead.

That evening, when Childe returns to his apartment, he’s on the phone with Lumine.

After telling her what happened after he left his parent’s place, Lumine says, “...I’m really sorry this is happening to your mother.”

“Hey.” Lumine looks up as if Childe is right in front of her. “Don’t look so sad.”

"How can I not?" she huffs. Then, her shoulders fell slightly. "I just… I also can't believe they kept this a secret from you."

Childe sighs. “It’s just such a coincidence I found out about this now.”

“A coincidence?”

That’s when he tells you about his conversation with you about the curse. All of the secrets that the curse wants them to find out.

“...Does this mean your curse will start changing?” Lumine asks.

Childe looks at the clock. “It already has. I’m already late.”

Lumine smiles. “That’s progress… I think.”

“Well, I’m getting more time talking to you, so… yes. It is progress.”

“I… I wish I could be there for you right now.”

“You are, aren’t you?” Childe smiles. “I’m thinking of visiting her next week. What my father said to me tonight… I might’ve underestimated how much they really know.” He sighs. “Maybe it’s time we can have an open conversation about it without letting our feelings get in the way this time. It just… sucks that it took something like this to get us here. But… maybe I should consider myself lucky.”

Lumine chuckles softly. “You know… I was kinda thinking the same thing.”

There are too many stories where people leave things unsaid or problems unsolved and then regret not saying anything when the person was still around.

“Your mother will get through this,” Lumine says. “I know she will.”

“...Thanks, Lumine.” Then, in a slightly lighter tone, he says, “I know she will, too. She has to meet you formally after all.”

“...Formally?”

“You’re my girlfriend. A formal introduction is necessary, don’t you think?”

She feels her face grow warm. “How long will you be gone?”

“...I don’t know.” He smiles slightly. “Hey, you used to say that you would never miss me if I wasn’t around. What changed, huh?"

“That… that was just a joke!”

“I’ll miss you, too, Lumine.”

Her shoulders fall. “It’s just… so sudden.” She flops on her bed. “I really hope things go well, though. You’d better keep me updated!”

Childe chuckles. “Of course.” Then, jokingly, “I’ll send you my breakfast pictures every day.”

“Of what? Your buttered toast and black coffee?”

"Hey, I'll have you know I've been upping my cooking skills."

“You? Cook?”

Childe almost feels offended. “My cooking isn’t that bad!”

Is it?

“Well… you did make us that crisp, black… thing last year. It was, uh, very unique.”

“I’m a changed person, Lulu. I’ll have you know that I’m constantly improving myself.”

“Riiight… But I don’t think you can beat Mr. Neighbour.”

Childe’s jaw almost drops. “You don’t think I can beat Alhaitham?”

“Sis showed me some of the stuff he makes, and it looks amazing!”

Childe frowns. “Just wait and see. He’ll have nothing on me.”

Lumine laughs. “Are you jealous?”

“...No.”

“Whatever you say… Kittyman.”

Childe is about to retort when…

Poof!

Then, all Lumine hears is a long, annoyed meow that almost makes her laugh.

◆◆◆

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Before Childe got to work the next morning, he'd already told his father he'll be visiting Snezhnaya next week. Now Childe relays the same message to his manager but adds that it's because of his mother's unexpected illness.

“But, I don’t want to stop working,” Childe says. “So, I want to ask if I can work remotely.”

“You know, Childe, you work very hard. You’ve never taken more than a day off since you started working here.”

Childe blinks once. Twice. Is that… bad?

“You aren’t indirectly telling me to take a break because I’m not needed or something, right?”

“Not needed?” His manager almost laughs. “Where in the world did you get that idea from?”

Childe awkwardly scratches his head. "Well, isn't that usually the case? Managers tell people that it's okay not to come back or it's okay to take long breaks because that person isn't really… needed."

“You’re watching too many dramas,” his manager says, standing. “I meant that you shouldn’t have to worry about work while visiting your mother. That’s a lot of stress.”

“...But I can’t just put everything down.”

“You're one of the most hardworking ones on the team, Childe. You’re also talented.”

“Where is this going?”

His manager chuckles. "This is going off on a tangent, but I'm just wondering why you aren't willing to expand your horizons a little bit. You've been doing so many commercial scripts you can probably write one in your sleep. Why not try something more difficult?"

It was late evening, and Childe thought he was the last one at the company. That was until he bumped into you in the lounge.

“You’re still here?” you asked.

“I could ask you the same thing. What are you still doing here?”

“Well… I'll let you in on a little secret.” Then, you smiled. “I just got news from the production team that Love in the Spotlight was chosen to get the biggest budget of the year. They also told me that the leadership team loved the script!”

The rest of your excitement fell on deaf ears. Childe kept his usual smile on the outside, but a storm was brewing on the inside. So, this was it, huh? You still got chosen despite his hard work. Little did you know, Childe also submitted a screenplay to the production and leadership team. He'd worked on it outside of work as it wasn't part of his usual responsibilities. But he'd wanted to give screenwriting another shot.

The feeling of losing to you was still fresh in his mind. You had come in second. He came in third. He was happy for you, but he wasn't. Regardless, he strived to get better at the craft. The two of you were close friends. Perhaps that was why he compared himself to you. That aside, it didn't help you have a supportive parent, and  his parents gave him hell for pursuing creativity as a career.

After years of honing his craft, he still lost... to you. 

“...I’m happy for you,” he finally said. Then, he put a hand in his pocket. “To celebrate, I’ll grab you a coffee tomorrow morning.”

“Well, it’s a little early to celebrate."

“Why do you say that?”

“I don’t want to celebrate just because I got a big budget.” Your smile widened. “I’m crossing my fingers that this does so well that it gets nominated for awards."

So, you were aiming for something bigger. Of course, you would. You'd already overcome the first hurdle. Then, there was him. Still stuck at the starting line.

“I… have my reasons,” Childe finally says. “I’m comfortable writing commercial scripts. It’s something I’m familiar with.”

“Well, you’re a good teacher, that’s for sure. The interns we had this year said that you were the best mentor.”

Childe smiles. “See?”

"It's just a shame if you ask me. But, I can't force you to do something you don't want to do. If you ever change your mind, let me know. Oh, and you can work remotely. But don't hesitate to let me know if things get too much."

“You’re the best.”

His manager gives him a deadpan look with a little smile. “I try.”

After Childe's meeting with his manager, it's just about lunchtime. He heads back to his desk, grabs his wallet from his bag, and heads to the restaurant to meet you and Tighnari for lunch.

When Childe arrives, you and Tighnari are already sitting at the table. Childe walks over just as you lean over and gasp at whatever is on Tighnari's screen.

“Oh, you do know how to pick ‘em, Nari,” you say with a small smile.

“Who are we talking about?” Childe asks, even though he already has a good idea. He takes an empty seat.

“Nari’s mystery boyfriend. Well, he’s not so mysterious anymore.”

That’s when Tighnari shows Childe a photo of him and a man who looks around Tighnari’s age with tan skin and medium-length gray hair.

“Why does he remind me of a mini Alhaitham?” Childe asks.

You laugh. “What?” You take another look at the man in the photo. “Oh, I can kinda see it.”

“Let me guess…" Childe moves into a thinking pose. "This guy’s quiet, mysterious, and kind of intimidating.”

You and Tighnari look at each other. “That… actually sounds about right,” he says. “But he’s actually really nice.”

“What’s his name?”

Tighnari smiles. “Cyno.”

“I… guess this means we have the same taste in guys, Nari,” you say.

Tighnari chuckles. “I guess so.”

After Childe orders his food, the three of you briefly chat about work before Childe drops the news he’ll be leaving Sumeru for a while. You and Tighnari are in shock when he tells you about his mother.

“That’s… so sudden,” Tighnari finally says. “I’m so sorry, Childe.”

“Yeah… I’ve been hearing that a lot. Don’t get me wrong. I do appreciate it. It’s just… after hearing it again and again, it gets a little much.”

“If there’s anything we can do,” you say, “just let us know.”

Childe smiles. “Just don’t have too much fun while I’m gone.”

“...Does Lumine know?”

Childe nods. “She was the first to know.”

“Lumine?” Tighnari looks at you. “As in your sister, Lumine?”

“That’s right,” Childe says. “I’m dating her sister.”

Tighnari’s eyes widen. “Oh, wow. I… Wow. When did this happen?"

"I'll tell you the full story another time."

Once the food arrives, the conversation takes a different turn, eventually leading you to reveal that you’re going to have dinner with Alhaitham and his mom this week.

“Ooh, it’s getting serious,” Childe says.

“Any advice?” you ask.

“If it’s you, you’ll be fine."

Tighnari nods. “Agreed. My parents loved you the first time they met you, remember?”

You laugh. “Oh, I remember!”

"I was getting jealous that they were giving you all the food," Childe says.

A short laugh later, Tighnari says, "I know you're going to a restaurant, but maybe you can impress her with your cooking."

"Uh, maybe if you want her to get food poisoning."

"Rude!" you say, half-jokingly. But you have to agree with Childe. "Hey, I've been getting lessons, though. Haitham’s been teaching me.”

“I heard he’s a good cook."

“Did you hear from Lumine?”

Childe nods. “I told her I can compete with him.”

“Ooh, does this mean we’re getting a cook-off in the future?” Tighnari asks.

You smile. “Nari and Cyno can be the judges. Gets rid of any bias, I think.”

“I, uh, I don’t know about that,” Tighnari says. “Even if it’s temporary, Alhaitham is still the CEO of our company… I wouldn’t want to say anything that might be taken the wrong way.”

"So, you only care about his feelings?" Childe asks, feigning dramatics.

“Maybe just a tiiiny bit more.”

Childe gives him a deadpan look just as you say, “Regardless, it’ll be fun!”

After some time, Tighnari leaves early for a meeting, leaving you and Childe at the table. There's a short silence as you and Childe finish what's left on your plate. Then, the conversation takes a serious turn.

"...Remember our conversation about the curse the other day?" Childe asks. You nod. "When I found out about what's been happening to my mother, I changed much later. Love might be the key to solving this, but it's like we're getting there one step at a time by discovering these secrets."

“...And it seems like we can’t run away from them.”

“Yeah… By leaving Sumeru, I’m pretty much forcing myself to talk to them.”

“I know you’ll be fine,” you say reassuringly. “And… your mom’s strong. She’ll get through this.”

Childe smiles weakly. “Thanks. But, hey, doesn't this mean there’s still something between you and Alhaitham you have to find out.”

You sigh. “Yeah, good point. And…”

“...And?”

You’re silent for a moment until you finally say, “Nevermind. I… I think I’ve been watching too many dramas lately.”

“Watching or writing?”

“Both.”

Childe chuckles. “C’mon, lunch is almost over.”

After you and Childe pay for your respective meals, you head back to the office.

◆◆◆

This isn't the first time Alhaitham has visited a TV station. However, it is the first time he's been invited as the CEO of a company and not as a researcher. Along with other experts and company executives, he will appear on the evening news as a speaker to discuss views on the ever-evolving technology industry and artificial intelligence. Alhaitham has just finished speaking to the producers when he overhears another interesting conversation a few feet away.

“What? Ayato didn’t get the role?”

“Shh! It’s supposed to be confidential.”

When Alhaitham happens to meet that person’s eyes, that person quickly walks away with his colleague. Alhaitham walks into the hallway, looking for a washroom, when he bumps into someone unexpected.

“Oh, Haitham.”

“Ayato. This is a nice surprise.”

Ayato smiles. “Yes. I saw you filming for the evening news channel. Very interesting perspectives.”

Alhaitham nods once. "How have you been?"

"Well... I can live without any surprises for a while."

"Is everything alright?"

Ayato glances around before quietly saying, “...Thoma told me everything. The truth of what happened to my ex-fianceé.”

“...You’re telling me she killed herself?”

"I’m… truly sorry, Ayato. I shouldn’t have kept it from you for so long.”

“...So, why are you telling me this now?”

“I don’t want you to shoulder this burden anymore. I thought… it’ll help you gain strength to pursue what you really want in life.”

Ayato closed his eyes and sighed heavily. “What I really want in life, huh?” Then, he looked Thoma in the eyes. “I didn’t get the role.”

“What? They… made a decision already?”

Ayato smiled wryly. “I guess… my best wasn’t good enough.”

"...We talked for a bit, and he told me that you and she knew about it long before I did," Ayato finishes.

"...That's true."

Ayato sighs. "Is it bad that even after knowing what really happened to her, that is the last thing on my mind right now?”

“...I don’t think so.” Ayato looks at him as Alhaitham continues, “It happened so long ago. I would assume you’re focusing on your problems… in the present.”

Ayato smiles. “Yes, you’re correct in that regard. It was my first time auditioning for a lead role, and… I lost it.” He looks down. “...The casting director said I lacked purpose.”

“Purpose?”

Just then, Alhaitham’s phone goes off.

“Ah, my apologies,” Ayato says. “I went off a little on a tangent. You must be busy.”

Just as Ayato walks past Alhaitham, he hears his name. Ayato turns around and sees Alhaitham looking at him.

“Don’t give up.”

Ayato smiles. “I appreciate the encouragement.”

As Ayato walks off, Alhaitham answers the call from his mother.

“The table has been booked!"

“You sound excited,” he says.

“Of course, I am. I’m meeting your girlfriend, after all.”

Alhaitham thinks back to Layla's conversation with his mother and says, "Are you sure you haven't met her somewhere, perhaps?"

“Why would you say that, Haitham? If I did, I would tell you.”

Alhaitham looks over his shoulder as two TV station employees pass by. "...I'll see you tonight at dinner."

Then, he ends the call, puts his phone inside his pocket, and continues on his way.

◆◆◆

Is this how Alhaitham felt when he met your mother? Nervous? Jittery? Because that’s exactly what you’re feeling. You close your closet door and look into the full-length mirror. You're wearing a casual, beige evening dress; you also opt for a natural make-up look to match. When you hear the knock at your door, you grab your small bag hanging on a hook and go to open the front door.

Alhaitham is wearing a teal, collared shirt that snugly hugs his athletic figure. He leaves the first two buttons unbuttoned, giving you a little tease of his chest. His black pants emphasize his long legs. When he steps closer to you, you get a whiff of his cologne. He takes your hand and lightly kisses it.

“Good evening, my lady.”

“My, what a greeting,” you say with a small smile. Then, you lean closer and kiss his cheek.

Alhaitham bends his arm, signalling for you to loop your arm around his. Once you do, he ushers you down to his car.

“I bumped into Ayato at the TV station today,” Alhaitham says as the car weaves through the busy Sumeru streets.

“Really? How’s he doing?”

“...Thoma told him what happened to his ex-fianceé.”

“Ah… and is he… okay?”

“I’m sure it came as a big shock,” Alhaitham says. “But he seems to be fine."

“That’s good to hear. Does he know if his curse changed?”

“I didn't get a chance to talk to him about it." A small pause. "I think there's a lot on his mind right now.”

Does it have to do with the acting role you last heard about?

Alhaitham pulls up to a fancy restaurant in the heart of the business district. Eventually, you two walk into the building, holding hands, and meet up with Alhaitham's mother.

As soon as she sees you, she gasps.

"Hello, hello!" She stands, walks over, and gives you a hug. "It's so nice to meet you, dear."

Alhaitham subtly glances around. It looks like Layla decided not to show up. What excuse did she give his mother? And… how did his mother take it?

“...What did you say your name was?”

Alhaitham tunes back into the conversation just as you repeat your name. He looks at his mother and sees an expression of shock break through her polite smile. But, it disappears as quickly as it came.

“That’s such a pretty name, dear.” She gestures to the table. “Shall we sit?”

You and Alhaitham sit beside each other while his mother sits across from you. As his mother starts another conversation with you, Alhaitham subtly takes note of the slight stiffness in her actions. He can see the gears turning in her head.

Something’s up. He can feel it.

Chapter Twenty-Five

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#alhaitham x you #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham #alhaitham x yn #alhaitham x y/n #genshin al haitham #al haitham x reader #al haitham x y/n #al haitham fluff #al haitham

[cool-cowboy]

Stress Reliever

Tags:

Hate sex, Dominant Leon S. Kennedy, Roughness, Rough body play, Finger-fucking, Finger-sucking. Face-Fucking, Hair pulling, Dirty talk, Degradation, Name-calling, Praise kink, Rough sex, Overstimulation, Forced orgasm

Summary:

“Can you shut the fuck up already? Jesus christ, shut your hole and sleep.”

“Relax, Leon, what’s your problem? Being so fucking touchy.”

“You won’t stop talking. That’s my problem.”

“Someone needs some stress relief…”

In which you and Leon are long time partners, who are stuck sharing a bed on an overly stressful mission. Tensions are high, and with a suggestion for some "Stress Relief" taken the wrong way things take a turn.

Leon is MEAN, which I usually would think is out of character, but I justify it by saying he'd never really hurt his lover, maybe just shut them up in a not so nice way, plus you like it, so yeah. Older Leon, was thinking Vendetta because of his angry moments, but whatever you want works. Not something I'd usually write, but had the idea and wanted to try it out! Enjoy!

Text:

“Can you shut the fuck up already? Jesus christ, shut your hole and sleep.” He’s being an ass, a bigger one than usual, pissing both of us off with his sour attitude. We’ve been confined to sleeping in one room, the only place we’re secure in this city, which is currently crawling with B.O.W.’s. We’re both stressed, this mission is taking a million times longer than it was meant to, and is a million times more infested than we were told.

“Relax, Leon, what’s your problem? Being so fucking touchy.” I turn on my side, facing away from him, huffing in annoyance when I hear his head turn against the pillow to look at me. It was just a joke, a simple “Wow, this is pretty cozy” that set him off. I guess it was to be expected, he’s been like this for a long time, both of us have, always on edge and stuck with each other during our worst moods, but this assignment has felt different, a shift in the tension between us, something like that.

“You won’t stop talking. That’s my problem.” I sigh, dramatic enough I’m sure he’ll hear, his mumbled out curses against me thankfully too low for my ears to catch. I look back at him, looking at me, pissed, tired of my shit, he’d said.

“Someone needs some stress relief…” I let my brows lift, pursing my lips before turning to lay my head back down, his shuffling around behind me only making my aggression toward him worse. If he wants to sleep he should sit his jackass still instead of rolling around like an idiot.

“Maybe if there was a pretty girl around.” His voice is low, intentional, trying to hurt my feelings, and I have to admit that did strike a nerve, having someone as obviously attractive as him comment on my appearance, even in a roundabout way, is not ideal.

“Maybe if you were a little more charming.” I’m lying, well partly, he is charming, just not around me, too comfortable and too bitter to treat me very nicely. He grabs my shoulder, and I whirl around, knife to his throat, surprising him, his nervous swallow nearly cutting into his skin. “Don’t think you can manhandle me, Kennedy. Watch your fucking hands.” He doesn’t seem put off by my tone, or the knife against him, just looks down at me, propped up on his elbow, looking a little pleased, surprisingly.

“I’m not charming? What about after that gala for Alvarez when I had you begging for-”

“That was a long time ago, Leon.” He gives me a look, not happy I interrupted his teasing words. I shove my knife back into its sheath, huffing and moving to turn back away, stopped by a gloved hand gripped tight to my jaw, my eyes flitting up to meet his.

“I wish you never changed, you were a whole helluva lot more pleasant back then.” He narrows his eyes, looking at me disgustedly, as if he’s not keeping my face in his gaze against my will.

“Yeah, so were you. Now get the hell off me-” I push at his arm, laying back onto my back to shove at his chest, but he doesn’t budge, just staring in his judgemental, calculating way, not minding me struggling at all, his show of power oddly attractive, even if he is being an ass.

“I hate you.” He kisses me, harshly, a surprised noise escaping my mouth before he's over me, pinning my hands to my stomach, keeping his other gripped to my jaw, the pressure almost painful, his nails digging into my skin.

“Leon- What the-”

“Stress relief, yeah? C’mon, partner, do something I don’t hate for once.” He goes back to kissing, this time down my neck, huffing and nipping, just hard enough to hurt. “Quit fuckin’ squirming, you can never fucking sit still, can you?” He’s still mad, just channeling his anger into something a little more pleasant, holding me down and making me feel good, even if he is a lot rougher than I remember. “You want this? Tell me, say you want it or I’m stopping.” He speaks with his lips against my skin, his voice low and rough, lusty, his hand squeezing my wrists to quietly urge me to reply.

“Uh-Yes.” He comes back to my lips, kissing too hard, teeth mixing with lips, his low groan still angry, his hand tightening around my wrists, stinging from his nails.

“Really..? Can never shut your… goddamn mouth and now you’re… not gonna talk..? Stupid… you’re… So fucking annoying.” I let out a noise when he bites my lip, and he pulls back to take a look at me, both of us breathing heavy, angry, lips red and smeared with spit. “Who knew you’d be this easy? Fuckin’ moaning when I haven’t even touched you, dirty bitch.” He leans back down to my neck, biting down when I pull on my arms, my pained groan muffled by his free hand clamping down on my mouth. “Shut the fuck up, god you’re stupid, lucky you’re so damn hot.” He keeps his hand over my mouth, trailing his lips down the side of my throat, sighing into me before sucking hard on a spot at the base.

“L’n, Dn’-” I squirm, trying to get away from the inevitable mark his harsh sucking is going to leave, but he takes his hand from my mouth down to my throat, holding it and my hands, rendering me mostly immobile, sucking and groaning and grinding into my thigh until he’s had enough, pulling back and looking at me with low eyes and a small, satisfied smile.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it, I know how fucking nasty you are, you don’t have to pretend.” He uses my hands to push my shirt up, trailing his lips across my collar bone, sucking and nipping at my skin, groaning against me when I push my thigh up into his hips, his erection straining through his cargos. “That’s it, fuck, maybe you are good for somethin’.” He releases my hands, sitting back on his heels above me, making me feel small, meek below him, at his mercy, even if I didn’t want to be. “You wanna do this?” He’s breathing heavy, chest heaving, mouth opened, eyes peering down at me, his hands paused on the clasps of my harness.

“Yes.” He unclips it, yanking me up by the front of my shirt to get my arms out of it, rushing, ignoring my annoyed hum at him manhandling me to get the job done, tossing it off to the side once he’s got it off.

“You’re being so damn quiet.” He works on my shirt next, sitting me up in front of him to pull it up over my head, discarding it before letting his eyes wander. “So well behaved when you’re on your way to getting some dick, yeah? Naughty bitch, probably can’t wait for it, huh? You’re looking awfully needy…” He’s being mean, but anything else wouldn’t suit him, and I don’t mind, it’s all relatively true, and the comments are, embarrassingly, starting to turn me on.

“Fuck you.” He laughs, bitter, pulling my bra down my arms and tossing it away, shoving me back down onto the mattress by my sternum, leaning down to latch onto my nipple, groaning loudly and yanking one of my thighs up over his hip, a surprised moan escaping me when he grinds roughly into my crotch.

“You will, in a fuckin’ minute. Have some class, yeah?” He moves onto my other nipple, sucking hard enough to hurt, grinding into me at the same time he lets his teeth graze my sensitive flesh, grinning into my skin when I arch up into him. “Bad girl, you’re getting off on this, huh? You like getting treated like this? You’re sick.” He’s amused, teasing me, prompting me to shove my thigh up between his legs, enough to hurt, but not enough to seriously piss him off. He groans, biting me in protest, but he doesn’t seem bothered by the rough treatment either.

“Sounds like you are too. Drooling all over me when I-”

“Shut up, jesus.” I don’t really have a choice, his grip tight on my throat, his mouth working its way back up my neck to look me in the eyes. “Don’t think this changes anything, you’re still on my shit list, even-Fuck- you feel so damn good.” He lets his head rest in the crook of my neck, nudging my leg back outside his to grind into the crotch of my pants, his groan muffled by the quilt below us. “Wanna suck my dick? I bet you fuckin’ do, probably soak your damn panties while I fuck your pretty face.” I moan, I can’t help it, the feel of his body pressing down on me along with his words is overbearing, leaving me mushy, none of my usual fight left when he’s oozing authority like this. He pulls back, looking over my expression, watching as he slowly drags his dick up my slit, huffing amusedly when I gasp. “Yeah? You want to? Say it, pretty girl, tell me you want my dick in your mouth.” I nearly do, spit out whatever he wants, but I refrain, wanting to keep at least a shred of my dignity, moving my hands to push against him, trying and failing miserably to get him on his back.

“Yes, now get off!” He waits a moment, then relents, rolling off me to lay on his back, pulling me along with him, now straddling his hips, which continue to work against me as I work the clips of his harness, pulling him up the same way he did to me, only to be caught in a heated, harsh kiss, one of his hands hauling me closer into his lap, the other tugging on my hair roughly as he groans, using his hold on my hip to rock me against him. “Leon-” He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even acknowledge my hands pushing at him, just keeps kissing and groaning, refusing to budge until he’s had his fill, releasing me to finish what I was trying to do before he decided he had other plans.

“You’re too damn eager, pissing me off.” He’s quiet, his voice rough, low eyes watching me as I get his shirt up over his head, not looking pissed, dazed, if anything. “Terrible… So damn bad, needy for dick down your fuckin’ throat, yeah?” I frown, pressing a hand to his chest to shove him back down, and he lets me, giving me an unamused look when he slams into the mattress, but I ignore him, following him down to kiss at his neck. “ ‘s a little lower, sweetheart.” I bite him, a little harder than he did me, but he’s being annoying. He groans, loud, his hips rutting up roughly into me making me moan into my bite, my head pulling back to look at the mark, feeling pleased to have ruined him a little. “Goddamn, you evil girl, can’t expect me to treat you nice after that. Better fucking play nice or I’ll shove my dick into your pretty pussy without any prep.” I shoot him a look, my annoyance growing with just about everything he says, the anger subdued by our new entertainment.

“Maybe I won’t let you fuck me at all, If you wanna play that game.” I’m going to, no way I can pass this opportunity up, and neither is he, both of us gone way too long without caring for our needs, too pent up to refuse even the least preferable partner. I trail down, kissing and sucking and biting my way down his neck, his chest, feeling satisfied when his hands pull my hips down onto him, just as needy as me.

“Yeah right, we both know that’s bull, now shut up and show me what those pretty lips can do.” He lays his head back, propped up on the pillow so he can watch, my lips trailing down over his stomach making his muscles tense. I don’t give in yet, not happy with him being so bossy, just rest my head beside his obvious erection and letting my fingers ghost over it, pulling back when his hips rut up. “Don’t play this game with me, I’m a helluva lot meaner than you, I’ll make you wait ten times as long as me, keep that in mind.” He’s not happy about my teasing, but I guess I am being annoying on purpose, so I let my hand press more fully against him, palming him, letting him press his hips up into my touch, watching his eyes go closed and his head press back into the pillow.

“I’m easy? You’re fucking my hand right now. Shouldn’t a man your age know how to control himself?” He groans, reaching down to grab me by my hair, dragging my face over to press into his dick, the front of his cargos and his erection digging into the side of my face.

“You wanna say that shit again? God fuckin’ damn you’re annoying, just shut the fuck up and suck my dick.” Yeah, that did it, he’s pissed, holding me there when I squirm, the feeling of slick soaking my panties at his rough treatment making me a little sick to my stomach. His other hand comes down, the one in my hair dragging my head back so I can watch him unbutton and zip his pants, his dick hitting me in the face when he pulls his pants and boxers down over his hips. He grabs his erection, already red and shining with pre, tapping it against my lips, staring at me with lust mixed with his usual annoyance, his eyes narrowed, his lips parted, chest heaving with quickened breaths. “You gonna be good and suck it or d’you want me to cram it down your slutty fucking throat.” I frown at that, but he doesn’t seem to care, too into his role, pulling me up onto my hands and knees by my hair, ignoring my pained groan to press my lips to the head of his dick. “Go ahead, sweetheart, don’t make me treat you rough, yeah?”

I don’t mind the rough treatment, I know he wouldn’t actually hurt me, he’s just as into this as I am, even if he is a lot more composed, he knows this is a game, an exaggeration of our usual tiffs to give us a reason to let out some pent up aggression. I close my lips over the tip, sucking lightly, moaning at the taste of pre on my tongue, my eyes flitting up when he groans, his eyes on me, his grip on my hair coaxing me down. I don’t refuse him, just slide down until I can’t take anymore, my attempt to pull back up stopped by his hand on my head, holding me down on him.

“Deeper, c’mon, you took all of it last time.” I press down, gagging, trying and failing to pull off him, tears pricking at my eyes as I watch his head press back, a low groan sounding out into the room. “That’s fuckin’ it, tryna hold out on me? God, you look pretty gagged on my dick, fuckin’ crying for it.” He pulls me off, all the way, when I tap repeatedly on his thigh, not as ruthless as he’d like me to believe. “Can’t take it?” I take a deep breath, using my hand to hold his dick up then sinking down, all the way, gagging around him before pulling back up and doing it again. “Shit, nasty bitch, you’re too damn good at that. Suck lots of dick? I bet…” He’s looking at me, pulling on my hair when I look away, forcing my eyes back up to his face, enjoying himself a little too much. “Wanna let me fuck that pretty face?” I moan around him, sinking down again, and he groans, pulling me off him to shove me down beside him, dragging me a little higher by my hair, positioning my messy face back above his leaky dick.

“Not too rough, Leon.” I give him a look, expecting some snarky comment, but he just nods, too worked up to deny me this, his hand urging me to wrap my mouth back around him, and I do, one elbow pressed into the mattress beside him, my other palm on his hip.

“That’s it, I’ll be nice, don’t-ah- don’t worry…” He starts out slow, shallow, propping up a leg to give him the mobility he needs to thrust into my waiting mouth. “Shit, this is so fucking good, you look good with my dick in your mouth, sweet girl. Gonna cream your fuckin’ throat, you want that?” I moan, and he presses my head down, only an inch, but now he’s hitting the back of my throat, and I gag at the unexpected depth, my throat closing around him making him let out a breathy moan, his fingers gripping harshly into my scalp. “Fuck, that’s it, better relax, let me in, come on…” I try, but he’s speeding up, nudging at the back of my throat, forcing me to gag over and over, his eyes on me, my spit trailing down and pooling around the hair at his base. “Makin’ a mess, god, gonna go faster, yeah? Stop me if you can’t take it.” He doesn’t show me any mercy, working his hips up and shoving my head down, tears soaking my skin as I claw into his hip, his whiny groan making me clench on nothing, the lewd noises my throat is making ripping needy noises out of the both of us. “I knew you could-Fuck- take it, you want it, want me to fuck your tight little throat. I bet that sweet little clit is throbbing, yeah? Poor girl, so needy-ah- for- me.” He’s getting close, his hips stuttering every now and then, his eyes falling closed to enjoy the sensation of my wet heat, his dick pushing past the muscle keeping him out of my throat. He pushes his non-supporting leg between mine, bending his knee to rub it into me, offering minute relief, and a distraction from the lack of air I’m getting.

“Shit, nearly there, keep squeezing that mouth on me, just like that, you’re doing so good. So fuckin’ dirty, letting me shove my dick-ngh- You look so good, you’re so messy. You fucking love this shit don’t you? Fuck, that makes it even better, watching you get off to getting your face fucked- shit-!” His head lolls back, and his rhythm goes patchy, my choking only getting louder the longer I don’t get air, my head feeling fuzzy when he reaches his free hand down to rub my clit through my pants, my surprised moan making his hips stutter. “Only a little longer, you’re nearly there, just let me-Ngh- Fuck that pretty mouth a little longer, let me give you what you’ve been missing Yeah? Gonna cum, gonna fucking cum down your pretty goddamn throat, fuck, keep fucking going, keep- shit- just, oh fuck, take it, fucking take it-” He buries himself inside, my lips flush with his base, his dick forced down my throat when he twitches, groaning and rubbing intensely at my clit, making my legs shake as I dig my nails into his skin, moaning around him as he leaks cum straight down my throat.

“There we go, you did so good, better than I thought. Almost don’t wanna let you off, just let your throat stay wrapped so nice around me…” He doesn’t, thank god, he pulls me off, and I gasp for breath, my arm collapsing and leaving my face pressed into the spit on his stomach, my chest heaving, his hand smoothing my hair. “You’re okay, just breathe, surprised you didn’t need a break… Just calm back down, deep breaths, yeah?” He’s being kind, probably for the first time in years, wiping at my tear-stained cheek as I calm down, watching me with none of his usual annoyance, just mild worry, something I don’t often get, not dainty enough and too well trained for anyone to have any reason to be worried about me. “Ready for your turn?” He doesn’t wait on my response, just turns us over, crawls down to leave his face above mine, looking way too attractive for a man I thought I hated.

“Leon-”

“Shh, don’t start being annoying again or I’ll have to fill that perfect fucking mouth a second time.” And he’s back, giving me a mildly disgusted look before leaning down to kiss at my neck, gripping my jaw to tilt my head back, trailing his teeth down my jugular, laughing when I moan. “See? Just keep your big ass mouth shut and you’ll get what you want.” His free hand is working on my pants, greedy fingers pushing past the waist once they’re unbuttoned, his rough thumb dragging with harsh pressure over my clit making me flinch. He laughs, low and bitter, kissing down to close his lips around an already hard nipple, letting his teeth close over it, biting down a little harder when I try and pull him off. “Fucking stop that.” He collects my hands, shoving them above my head and holding them there, his grip on my wrists a little tighter than it should be, his calloused skin digging into mine.

“Just sit your annoying ass still and shut the fuck up.” He returns to the same nipple, only after giving me a look, letting his teeth close over it again, which hurts, but I focus on his hand, his thumb rubbing circles over my panties, dipping down to swipe over the slick-soaked patch. He groans, his teeth tightening making me hiss, but he releases it, trailing over to the other side, speaking with huffed breaths between lazy kisses. “You’re so… Damn sensitive… Such a… Naughty fuckin’ girl… grinding this sweet pussy up into my hand…” I hadn’t even noticed I was doing that, chasing pleasure to offset the pain. I moan pleasedly when he slips his fingers under my underwear, neglecting to collect any of my wetness before rubbing my clit, his thumb rough against my dry nerves making me squirm, movement quickly stopped by a pointed squeeze to my wrists.

“Leon, that hurts- Can you-”

“Told you to take it.” He doesn’t look amused, just pulls back to stare at me, pressing his thumb more firmly against me, staring at my face as my legs shake, making me embarrassed. I’m getting close when he dips his fingers down, collecting slick onto his pointer and middle, avoiding my clit on the way back up, pulling them out and between us, held up for the both of us to see. “You soaked your pretty panties… Too bad, wasted some.” He separates his fingers, sticky strings connecting them making him groan before he looks at me, pressing his fingers into his mouth, moaning around them as his eyes go half-lidded, his dick filling back out before my eyes, rested heavy along the outside of my arousal. “Shit, for an annoying little bitch you sure do taste good. Let’s get these off, let me get you ready for me, yeah?” I nod, not wanting to speak out of turn and have him change his mind, his threat of going in without prep a little daunting at his size, even if I am soaked.

He shuffles down the bed, bringing my hands down to rest on my stomach, resting his knees on either side of mine, pulling my pants and underwear down without much gentleness, yanking up on my leg when he can’t get one side off. “Here we go, you look good like this…” He settles himself between my legs, pressing one knee down into the bed to give him room, his eyes on my face when his thumb returns to my clit, pressing too hard, making me shake. “So damn easy, huh? Too worked up from getting dick stuffed down your throat?” I can’t help the moan that comes out of me, low and breathless, my eyes meeting his when I feel his fingers pressing inside, two of them, curling up on the way back out, pressing hard into my G-spot unexpectedly. “Good, huh? Needy girl… That fuckin’ looks you’re giving me is so fucking good, so goddamn desperate for me, yeah?” I can’t talk, not that I think he really wants me to, I’m too busy shaking like a leaf, my legs held in place by his arm and hand, his fingers and thumb working against me in an almost painful way, too much at once, bringing me to the brink of orgasm quicker than I thought possible.

“Shit, Le- oh my god, Leon-” I can’t form anything coherent, but he knows, he’s doing it on purpose, enjoying it, watching me with hazy eyes, ignoring the loud squelching of his fingers fucking into me to watch my expression.

“Gonna cum? Yeah? Go ahead, fuckin’ do it, soak my fingers so I can use them to slick up my dick. C’mon, dirty girl, you’re so damn close, cum on my fingers…” I’m nearly there, letting out a whiny moan when I feel it coming, but he stops, not seeming to have any reaction to my annoyed groan, just looking at me, not making any move to explain himself.

“Why-”

“Not yet.” He waits a few more seconds before he starts up again, the squelching even more lewd, his fingers pressing inside over and over, his thumb pressed painfully into my clit, his teeth closing on the skin of my thigh when I clench around his fingers. “Fuck, squeezing me, you’re so wet, sucking me in. Ready to cum? I’ll let you this time as long as you don’t pull on those hands again, just fuckin’ take it. There you go, you’re so ready, give it to me, fucking give it to me, cum on my fingers like the dirty little bitch you are.” That does it, but he doesn’t stop, continuing the same pace, fucking me through my orgasm, holding down my leg that tries to close, groaning when I gush all over the quilt. “Jesus Christ, making a fuckin’ mess, so fucking bad…” He doesn’t stop even once my orgasm is over, or when I squirm from overstimulation, he holds me down, fucking his fingers into me, watching my face as he forces me toward another high, his fingers way too rough on my oversensitive nerves. “Stop fucking moving, sit your stupid ass still and take it. This is what you want, yeah? So stop fucking fighting me.” I can’t take it, my moans more like whimpers with how rough he’s being, and how long I’ve gone without a break in stimulation. I'm desperate for a break, it's painful, and my writhing does nothing to stop him, he just keeps going, refusing to listen to my pleading.

“Leon, please- Fuck, please stop. No more, please just- I can’t-”

“You can. You like this shit, fucking moaning and shaking like that, you want it, so fucking take it.” I throw my head back, letting the painful pleasure wash over me, my next orgasm approaching a lot faster than the first, his fingers too skilled, his eyes on my face making me feverish, the intensity of all this making me hot and want to puke. “C’mon, fucking give it to me, it’s just one more, you can handle it, Agent. You can handle the DSO and not an orgasm, yeah right. Now, give it to me, god you look fucked, you’re a goddamn mess, can’t wait to fuck you even stupider than you already are, bet you can’t wait either, so let go, stop being prideful and-” I cut him off with a whiny moan, my legs closing against his wishes, his fingers refusing to leave me until I come down, his expression displeased I squirmed my way out of his hold.

“Le… No more… Don’t…” He sighs, lifting up to crawl himself between my legs, trailing light kisses along my skin, groaning against my neck when his dick brushes my hip. He sits up to look at me, unhappy, letting one of his hands slide down my side to grip his dick, jerking himself slowly against my skin, a pleasured expression taking over his displeased one.

“C’mon, haven’t I proved I can make you feel good, let me give you one more, have you squeeze that pretty pussy on me while I cream your insides.” I let out a dazed moan, his offer sounding good, even if I am completely spent, in no position to be telling him no when the thought of him inside of me is so tempting.

“Shit, okay… Slow?” He gives me a look, one that tells me my request is not likely to be granted, his hand pushing him up to seated above me, his other still stroking his swollen, flushed dick.

“You don’t want it slow… I know how to treat someone bad as you, I’ll take care of you.” He turns me over, and I let him, groaning into the sheets when he drags my hips back, leaving my face pressed to the bed, my hands clenched around thick fabric. “This’ll keep you quiet, huh? God you’re soaked, gonna fuck you so good.” He gives me warning, rubbing his dick up and down my slick, groaning when I jerk away from pressure on my clit. “You’ve had a break, now you’re gonna take my dick, let me cum in this nice, tight-” He presses inside, the stretch a little too much, two of his fingers not doing much to get me ready.

“Fuck, feels even better than I remember. Jesus Christ you’re hot like this, dick drunk and letting me do whatever I want. Wish you were always like this, quiet and presenting me your sweet ass to fuck.” I moan, muffled by the sheets, his words making me clench around him, feeling disgusted with myself for letting him treat me like this, but I’m too gone to care, too fucked out and full to give a shit who’s giving it to me. He’s thrusting now, puling my hips back to slam into him, being rough against my wishes, and it hurts, but the dull pleasure is still there, growing with each thrust, his hips angled up to give me some relief. “God, you feel so fucking good… Wish you didn’t make me want to squeeze that pretty throat every time you open your stupid fucking-ah- mouth. Jesus, you’re loving this, squeezing the fucking life out of me.” He slides a hand around, collecting my hands to hold behind my back, taking away my stability and using his grip to pull me back onto him, groaning loudly when he squeezes my ass, fingernails digging into my skin.

“Le- Fuck, Leon, please-ngh- please…” I’m nearly sobbing, my face pulled out of its hiding spot by his pulling on my bound arms, keeping my upper body suspended in the air as he bounces me on his dick, the squelching and his hips hitting my ass and his whiny groans all making me fuzzy, another orgasm on its way.

“Please fucking what? Fuck you harder? Goddamn, you are too fucking hot. Haven’t had anybody since that night at the gala, believe- ah- that? Never fucking wanted anybody else, this pussy is too fucking good for me to settle.” I moan, clenching around him in response to his confession, and he lets out a strangled noise, his rhythm breaking for a few seconds until he gets his bearings. “You like that? Good, ‘cause from now on I’m not gonna wait fifteen years between-Shit! Holy shit, you about to cum? You’re being so goddamn loud, didn’t I tell you to-ah- shut the fuck- up…” He’s close, his hips fucking inside and grinding roughly into me, his grip on my wrists sure to leave bruises, his hand coming down on my ass making me le tout a surprised yelp.

“You squeeze me so fuckin good when I do that. I need you to hurry up, cum on my dick, push that pretty pussy back and take what you need. Yeah, that’s fucking it, good job, fucking yourself on my dick, fuck, yes, yes, go ahead, cum, jesus, please, just hurry the hell up and-” He cuts himself off with a choked moan, his upper body folding over me, arms tight around my stomach, his hips pressing as deep as he’ll go, my orgasm a hazy pleasure, the feeling of his dick emptying into me making me moan. He doesn’t stop there, works his hips into me well after he’s done cumming, shoving his release deeper, ignoring my whining and struggling to get away as he sighs contentedly into my shoulder, both of us still and coming down when he speaks. “I don’t hate you, y’know?” I sigh, reaching to push against his hip, my request granted this time, his soft dick slipping out, his hands guiding me back to seated.

“I know.” It’s all the stress, we’re both well aware that’s why we’ve been at each other’s throats, everything to do with our jobs, nothing to do with the two of us.

“Was I too much?” I huff, leaning back on the pillow and watching him, looking more relaxed than I’ve seen him in years, peaceful.

“You ask that now?”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy #older leon kennedy #angry smut #hate sex #partnership

[nerves-nebula]

Shrek the Third:

——

Raph learned after Mikey.

He was out with Casey. Not, like, out out. Just out. Not that he really wanted to be out out with Casey. Haha. Whaaaat? That would be weird.

“Dude, five bucks I can shove this whole thing down my throat.” Casey beamed, holding up the enormous hot dog he’d just bought from a street vendor.

“You lubed it up with enough ketchup and mustard to drown most humans.” Raph gestured to the thing, dripping as it was, “I’m not taking that. You just want me to watch you choke on some long meat.”

Casey snorted with laughter, jabbing his elbow into Raph’s arm. He still decided to try to swallow the whole thing down, looking like one of those weird birds at the park while he did.

The theme song to Revolutionary Girl Utena chimed through the air and Raph pulled out his phone, answering Mikey’s call.

“Bro, what-“

“Raph, you have to get to the hospital. I tried calling Leo but he’s not answering.”

“Whoa, slow down, bud, what’s going on?” He immediately got to his feet, turning his back to Casey.

“It’s Donnie. Donnie, he- he…” Mikey broke down crying, unable to finish his statement.

Raph’s heart shattered. Donnie was hurt and Mikey was crying. He hated not being close by to comfort his brother, and being able to still hear him sobbing only made it hurt worse. His instincts told him to grab Mikey, to hold him close and shield him against anything and everything, but he couldn’t, not when Mikey was so far…

“What hospital?”

Mikey’s voice cracked a few times before he managed to speak up again, “M-ma’am, what’s the name of this hospital?” His sniffled loud, directly into the microphone, “Hidden City Main Hospital. Go through the Emergency gate. I- I can’t get ahold of Leo, Raph. She doesn’t know, she- she was shopping today. You know she ignores her phone.”

“I’ll get ahold of Leo. You call April. They probably won’t let her or Casey in but it’s better to keep everyone informed.”

“Y-yeah.”

“Mikey. Take a deep breath. I need you to tell me what happened.”

He heard Mikey follow his instructions.

“Did Donnie text you?”

“A little while ago. He said he left something for me in my room, but I’m up top with Casey.”

“It’s a suicide note, Raph. At least, I think it is. He had one here with him, too. He drank something, I don’t know what it was but the doctor said it wasn’t good.” Mikey’s voice was breaking again, “It was addressed to whoever found him. He’s been planning this, Raphie. He had all of our numbers written down and April’s and Casey’s. Fuck, he even had Splinter’s old number on there, he was just gonna- he- if I hadn’t turned around, he would be-“

“Mikey!” Raph snapped, “Mikey, focus, okay? The doctors will do what they can, but we need to be together. Call Leo and April. I’ll get there as soon as I can.” He turned, looking at Casey, who had since bitten and swallowed his hot dog. He mimed the words ‘Text Leo’ to him, which he immediately pulled out his phone to do. “Look, buddy, I’m up near Time Square so it’ll be a bit before I can get there. Focus on getting Leo and April, okay?”

“O-okay.”

“I’m gonna hang up and try getting Leo’s attention too, okay? He has to answer one of us.”

“Okay.”

Raph hung up and turned to Casey. Casey just nodded. He didn’t need Raph to explain, he could hear the worry in his friend’s tone, the fear in his posture. Casey didn’t care what the problem was, just how he could help. He followed Raph without question, getting them on his bike to find the nearest entrance to the Hidden City. Raph filled him in on the way, in clipped sentences that only provided what he knew.

Donnie had made a suicide attempt.

Mikey found him.

He was in the hospital.

Leo wasn’t answering.

—

Casey got them to the hospital quick. Given that he didn’t actually have a license, human or yokai, he didn’t actually care to much about breaking traffic laws. Two officers stopped them when they finally parked, but Casey let Raph hurry inside and while he dealt with the cops.

Mikey was in the waiting room.

“Leo still isn’t answering, but April is on her way. She said she’d stop by the apartment to get him.” Mikey grabbed Raph’s hands, tear tracks staining his face, “I haven’t seen any of the doctors that took Donnie since they brought him to the back.”

“You did good, Mikey.” Raph pulled him in close, squeezing him tight, “You did such a good job, you did everything right. I’ve got you, Mike. Raph is here. Raph has you.”

Mikey broke down again in his arms. Raph cried with him. Partway through he registered a human hand resting on his shell, soothingly tracing the pattern of his scutes in the way Casey liked to do.

When Mikey finally settled, they all got to work texting and calling Leo.

——

Damn, Donnie, your depression interrupted Raph’s gay thoughts. RIP.

-Monster Anon

you're really savin my ass with this today. i am having a BAD ONE. also goddamn if you aren't on a roll. i posited this idea last night at like 2 AM and you've already written 3 whole whatchamacallits.

im swirling this shit around in a glass like its wine. hell yeah.

also i had to look up what a scute was lol.

#nnstuff #ask #asks are sweethearts #teenage mutant neglected turtles #neglected fic #tmnt raph #tmnt donnie #suicide tw

[georgiapeach30513]

Every Other Weekend, Part 5

Summary:  Things did not go well for Jack, and things went great for you and Nick

Pairings:  Jack O’Malley X Reader, Nick Fowler X Reader

Rating:  explicit

Warnings:  language, discussions about cheating, explicit sexual content, oral sex (F receiving), fingering, squirting, spitting, choking, multiple orgasms, implied dumbification, implied objectification, cocky!Nick Fowler, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  4.8K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Nervously you busy yourself, doing anything, before Jack arrives to pick up Finn.  Had swept the house multiple times.  Vacuumed and vacuumed again.  Mopped until you were light headed from the cleaning supplies, and still you couldn’t sit still.  A constant beating and banging of Finn’s drums, and honestly it makes you want to scream.  Thrilled when Jack just walks into the house without knocking.

Walking into the kitchen to see you unloading the dishwasher.  Again.  He takes a deep breath, and dramatically coughs at the lingering clean smell, before sitting down at the bar, “What’s the deal with the cleaning?”

“I’m getting the stench of loneliness out of this house,” you answer shortly.  Continuing about your business.

Jack’s finger taps on the counter, hissing through his teeth.  “Can we talk?”

“Is that not what we’re doing?”

“No, I say something, and you snap back.  That’s different.”

“Well, what do you want me to say Jack?” You go to make a cup of coffee, and Jack walks over to you, pointing at the stools.  “What do you want?”

“I’m going to make you a cup of coffee,” while you roll your eyes, he moves around to the machine, and spins on his heels to stare at you.  “I messed up.”

“Mhmm.  We established that nearly a year ago.”

“Can we go back to sessions?” You shake your head no, but his face doesn’t change from his determination.  “Why?”

“We tried Jack.  I tried.  While I was trying you were getting text messages at three o’clock in the morning from that woman.  Doesn’t take a genius to figure out your late night bootie calls.  So while I’m at home asleep, with your son upstairs, you’re getting your dick wet with some whore that you promised you would never speak to again.  So why should we go back to therapy?  I filed for divorce.  You were served.  I’m done.”

He grimaces a moment before he blurts out, “I never had sex her.”

“Oh?  So what were you doing?”

“Talking.  That’s it.”

“Hmm, you know, I think I liked the idea of you having meaningless sex better.  But I guess if you can talk to her instead of me, it wouldn’t be meaningless would it?  You developed feelings for her.”

“I deserve that,” he chokes out, turning around to grab the creamer from the fridge.  “I should have stopped.  She works at the DA’s office, and…it was mostly business because I feel I can’t talk to you about things from work.”

“Oh my god!  Jack, you’re telling me that she’s always going to be in your life?  This is great.  And you let her around my son.”

“You had Dean around our son.”

He slides the mug over to you, starting his own cup, but you can only angrily stare at the mug, it was the perfect shade of brown.  It smelled divine, and you hated that Jack knew how to make your perfect cup of coffee.  “Is this what this is about?  You saw me with Dean.”

“I saw Dean groping you on a Ferris wheel.  Cal had to stand in front of Finn so he would see what a disappointment…”

“Say it.  I’m a disappointment?  You can risk your marriage for some bitch that you’re not even fucking.  And the minute that I get out and go on a date, I’m the disappointment.  Which, by the way, we weren’t even together.  Just because your indiscretions went unseen by Finn doesn’t mean that you’re the innocent party.  I didn’t know you were going to be at the fair.  And if I recall, Dean wasn’t the first one to grope me on a Ferris wheel.  So is Dean your problem?  Because I’m at a loss here?”

“Do you have a date with him tonight?” You snort, shaking your head no.  “This weekend at all?”

“No.  I’m not dating Dean.  Not that it’s any of your concern.  Is that all?”

“Why him?  He’s Finn’s teacher, and…why him?”

“Is this because he’s Finn’s teacher or does it bother you that he was my first love?” Jack shrugs, unsure how to answer.  He didn’t know if it was Dean in general that got under his skin, because who Dean was to you, or the fact he was in too close a vicinity to Finn.

“Remember when I told you I was okay?  Before the arguing really started, I just shut down.  Then you were gone and didn’t come home until four or five in the morning.  And one time I had to take our son to the ER because his fever skyrocketed, and I couldn’t wake him up, and I couldn’t reach you?  My son was so feverish he was unconscious in my arms,” Jack has to look away from you.  He was ashamed that he chose someone else’s time over his family that needed him.  It was the reason that he now made time to be with Finn as much as possible.  

“Work, and this woman took you away from the two people you claimed to love above all else.  Our son was in the hospital, and I didn’t get in touch with you until his fever dropped.  He needed you.  I needed you, but you were unavailable to us, because of her,” you slap your hand on the counter, getting upset at how utterly alone you felt then.  How you couldn’t help but wonder what would Jack do if he were there.  Instead, you watched over your baby who had finally broken his fever, and still you were alone.  Comforting him, but not having the support that you needed.

“I realized something then.  I realized I lost myself.  I was a hairdresser.  I was Jack’s wife, and I was Finn’s mom.  But I wasn’t me.  It became painfully clear that instead of your partner, I became your live-in maid and babysitter that would sometimes share the comfort of your embrace.  Sometimes I was used as wet flesh for you.  And yes, I pushed for us to have a baby because you were so good when Finn was a baby.  I had all of you.  I thought by having a baby I would get that back, and you stop with your tomfoolery.  And you refused, so I refused to let you just fuck me.  Because Jack, that’s what it was.  There was none of that passion that we used to have.  There was none of the kissing or the holding each other.  It was the gripping and pounding every fucking time.  And I couldn't bring the Jack that I love back.  That’s why I needed to separate from you.  I couldn’t play these draining mind games I was having with myself.  You move out and came here every night.  Every night we had us back, and every morning you left and I had to wake our son and get him ready for school.  I always get the hard part.  You get to be the fun dad.  And you blamed me when I got jealous of you getting to have fun with our son.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s too late,” he shakes his head rapidly, trying to reach towards you.  “It’s too late,” the two of you caught up in your emotions don’t realize that Finn had stopped beating on his drums.  He places a hand on your hip, and you jerk it off.  “No.  I am done being the one that loved the most in our relationship.  There’s nothing I wouldn’t have done for us, but I can’t do this.  I won’t go back to feeling like a prisoner in our home and our relationship.  I can’t do that.  I need to find me.”

“Sharkie, please.”

“No!  Don’t you fucking use that name with me, Jack.  You lost the privilege when you chose someone else,” he tries to hug you, but you push him off of you again, “No.  Stop it!”

“Mom?” Finn squeaks out, and you spin around and away from him, trying to wipe the tears off your cheeks, while Jack steps away from you.  “Dad, is mom okay?”

“She’s fine, buddy.  Go get your things,” not listening to his dad, he walks behind you, and gives you a big hug.  Squishing his face up against your back before he goes back upstairs.  You don’t even let Jack get out your name before you’re walking away from him.  “Wait.”

“I’m not talking about this.  You should have talked while we were in therapy.  Things might be different.  Have a good weekend,” you wait at the bottom of the stairs, giving Finn a big hug and kiss, watching only him as they leave.  Going into your bedroom, you lay down.  There was enough time to take a nap before you called Nick.  You just needed a moment.

Jack is too focused on the road.  Usually he made jokes with his son, or would poke at him.  He does nothing.  Finn looks over at his dad, and crosses his arms over his chest, “Why did you make mom cry?”

“I made her cry?  Why would you say that?”

“You were in there.  And she was crying,” Jack shakes his head no, looking out at the road before him.  “You’re lying.  You always make her cry.  Every night.”

“What?  Finn, no…no, your mom and I…”

“You fight.”

“Argue.”

“And it hurts her feelings.  She only cries when she talks to you.  I miss when you both were happy, and together.  Don’t you?  You came home and tucked me in.  If you couldn’t we would FaceTime, and mom left smiling, still talking to you.  She loves you, and you…do you love her?”

“Finn,” Jack has to stop his words, while he tries to hold the tears in his eyes.  Not wanting to make this a bigger deal in front of Finn.  It was a huge deal, but you both decided he didn’t need to know everything.  “I love your mom very much.”

“Not like she loves you.  She still sleeps in your shirts.  Still sometimes sets the table and puts a plate in front of your chair.  She holds a pillow when she watches TV.  She doesn’t sleep.  Do you do those things like she does?  And if she misses you so much, why can’t you just come home?  I don’t want you sleeping on the couch this Christmas.”

Jack pulls into the apartment complex and turns to look at him, “I love your mom very much.”

“Not like she loves you.”

“I just don’t show my love the same way she does,” Finn rolls his eyes, and opens up his door.  Needing to get out of the car, and away from him.  “Finn.  Buddy stop.  Why are you so upset?”

“Why did Coach Winchester ask how mom was doing?  He asked if you were living back at the house.  Why?  He was at the fair with mom wasn’t he?  Is she going to see him now?  I wanna go home.  I don’t want her with him.  I want her with you.  Take me home!” He pushes his face up against his dad’s chest, while Jack tries to think of the best way to deal with Dean.

Dean should have never involved his son in any of this.  Much less allude to them dating.  Jack just pets his son’s fluffy hair.  “Buddy, it’s my weekend.”

“Stay in the guest bedroom.  I don’t want him to be with her.”

“He’s not.  He’s just majorly overstepping his boundary because he thinks he knows your mom. I’ll make sure that your mom knows, and we’ll let her take care of everything, and if he asks you anything else about your mother, I need to know, okay?” Finn gives him a pitiful nod of his head, and Jack pulls him along to the apartment.  

“Uncle Cal and Uncle TJ are coming over for some pizza and beer.”

“You mean I get root beer, TJ drinks that nasty static water, and you and Cal drink beer?” Jack laughs, answering with a yep.  “Can we play Mario Kart or Mario Party this time?”

“Yes, this time you get to pick out the games, movies, and snacks, okay?”

“Good because you guys suck,” Jack ruffles his son's hair, and gently pushes him into the apartment.  Trying to take a deep breath and reflect on everything that was said in a short amount of time.  He had already determined he was going to do whatever he could to get you back, and while everything you and Finn had told him hurt like hell, he still wasn’t ready to give up.  It just made him face the reality of how he made you feel.

“Nice place you got here,” Nick says walking through the door.  Looking around the living room before his eyes gaze up and down your body.  “Where to my lady?”

“Maybe,” you start as his mouth attaches to your neck.  His hands roam down your body, and you lead the way to the room.  “Maybe let’s not make this sound so gross and…transactional.”

“Are you wanting to fuck me and that’s it?  Or you wanting to date me?” You bite at your lip stopping at the door, “That’s what I thought.  Listen, I’m okay with the casual hookup.  A weekend long sex marathon, whatever.  I’m less inclined with the dating scene.  Let’s face it, you chose me to piss Jack off.  And I’m okay with pissing him off, because I’d like to piss him off myself.  So maybe if we can get to the foreplay so I can make you forget how you’ve officially filed for divorce and stop with this silly nonsense.”

Opening the door, Nick looks around, and then turns back to you, “This big house, and that’s the master bedroom?”

“This is the guest room.”

“Rolling out the red carpet for me, huh?  What’s wrong with your actual bedroom?” Your eyes go to the floor, and you lose confidence.  This was a bad idea.  He had no right to be in your home.  And you didn’t want another man in your bed that you shared with Jack.  With his fingers, he lifts your chin up, making you look at him.  “You don’t have to explain.  What about the table?”

“My kid eats there.”

“The couch?  Right, kid.  I would suggest the stairs, but your kid walks down them,” he lifts you up, pinning you against the wall.  Those skilled and sinful lips start kissing and sucking on your neck.  “This wall okay?”

“Y-y-yeah.”

“When was the last time anyone made you feel good?  Just you.  Not you trying to get themselves off, but made you feel like the only one in the room.  Fucked you so hard that you forget about all those ugly things in your brain.  You become mush, and pliant.  This guest room is perfect.  But I’m going to enjoy softening you up on this wall.”

Every whispered word comes out raw on your neck.  A warm tingly feeling courses through your veins, and your body starts moving on its own accord.  Slightly running your sweltering core over Nick’s stomach.  He rips at your shirt, pulling it down enough, and attaches his mouth to your shoulder.  Kissing on your skin until a bruise forms on you.  

Even when you try to kiss him, he pushes your face away, “I said this was about you.”

“Why?”

“You look like you need to have your brains fucked out.  And if it’s good enough, do I get to stay all weekend?” His hand pushes past the elastic of your leggings moaning when he feels how slicked up you are.  Pressing his finger against your bundle of nerves, still letting you hunch on him.

“You need this,” he walks you into the spare bedroom, never moving you off his body, and crawls the two of you on the bed.  You start pulling down your leggings, and Nick shoves two fingers in your cunt.  Slowly pumping into you before adding a third finger.  “She likes being stretched, huh?” He notes as you move your hands to your tits. Tweaking your own nipples, while Nick enjoys your body’s reactions.  Even in just a shirt, you were enjoying discovering your body again.

You were shaping up to be everything he always thought you were.  Jack hadn’t dulled your light too much.  You were sure of yourself, and what you liked.  Even started slamming your body on his fingers.  Holding still he lets you enjoy yourself.  Using his fingers to make yourself feel good.  Your juices drip into his palm, and he can’t believe his luck.  You were responsive.  A neglected sex goddess.

Curling his fingers, he fucks into you.  Your voice sings out when he hits your special spot.  Pressing down on your stomach, he starts pushing into your warmth with a heated fervor.  You reach behind, and cling to the headboard, as you moan.  Body lifting off the bed, as your tummy heats up.  Pleasure you hadn’t felt in years builds up, and you want to hang on.  Let him push you past the limits that you set for yourself.  Letting Nick dominate your pussy.  

Your toes curl up, and you nearly lift off the bed.  Bending your back to a harsh angle as juices gush out of your body.  Nick keeps going.  Smirking at you when he pushes down on your stomach harder, and you scream.  Gritting your teeth as you squirt once more.  Trying to say thank you, but it was more of a grunt.  

Removing his fingers, he lets your body settle back down, but he buries himself in between your thighs.  Slurping up all your juices, and when you try and push him off because the pleasure was almost blinding, he just goes harder.  Sucking your bundle of nerves into his mouth, giving it a tiny nibble as your walls start crumbling down.  

Nick pulls back enough to lick up your juices.  Those bright eyes smiling up at you from your cunt.  Making sure that you hear every salacious sound, turning his face to the side, he wipes your slick on your thighs.  Lifting up to sit on his heels, and he gives you a dopey smile.  “You good?  Or do you need more?”

“More!”

“What do you want, hmm?” Your eyes flick down to the tent in his pants, and you whimper.  Nick was blessed, and he seemed to know exactly how to use his gifts.  You were too far gone, and needed to see what else he could do.  “What do you want?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Are you giving me permission to do whatever the fuck I want to your body.”

“With a condom.”

“Of course, safety first.  Now, I know your best friend is with Jack.  He came by the station for something, and said he would see him this weekend.  You’re going to be all alone.  What are you going to do?”

“Are you asking to stay all weekend?” He slowly unbuttons his shirt, and you gaze down at his body.  He looked like he was carved from marble.  He gives you a quick shrug, and looks down at your throbbing pussy.  You wanted it.  After today you needed it all  weekend.  You needed to forget.  Desiring nothing more than to push away the despair that you felt deep in your chest.  You felt it was truly over, and there was nothing that could save you and Jack, so why not let him give you a mindless weekend?

“I could make you my own personal fuckdoll for the weekend.  Use you for my pleasure, but if you think I’m talented with my tongue, you’ve not seen anything,” his pants were undone, but he wanted you to wait.  

Leaning over you, making you feel his hardened cock on your weeping cunt, he fully rips off your shirt.  “There’s no need for clothes.  We’ll have food delivered, and then I’ll walk away, and we forget this ever happened.  I never stay long.”

“Just until Jack calls to bring Finn back.  And!” He cocks up an eyebrow, waiting to see what stipulation you come up with.  “You have to make me pass out.”

“Oh, darling, are you hurting that bad?” Even though you smile, it never reaches your eyes.  Still hovering over your body, he starts kissing on your skin. Making a trail of bruises along your collarbone, while he rolls his hips into you.  “If I make you pass out, you become my dumb baby the rest of the weekend?”

“Yes,” you whine, palming him over his pants.  “Yes, you make me pass out.  I’m yours all weekend.”

He sits back, and quickly reaches into his pocket, grabbing out a foil packet, and tears it with his teeth.  Spitting the small part out with a puff of air.  It was like watching a ballet the way he finished undressing, and rolls the condom on his long cock.  Everything was so precise, and almost beautiful.  You had never found the action of putting on a condom to be sexy, but he was proving you wrong.  

Jerking you down to him, he spits down at your puffy and spread pussy.  Rubbing on your swollen clit, before slapping it a few times, making your body jolt with excitment.  In one swift motion, he pushes into your tight channel, not stopping even when he’s fully entered.   Pulling back out, he starts rolling his length into you.  Much too slow and steady of a pace for you at the moment, “Harder.”

“You want harder for the first time?”

“I said, harder,” you growl, grabbing ahold of his tight ass, shoving him even deeper into you.  He grabs your legs and lifts them up.  Putting them in the same direction as your head.  Vigorously fucking into you, and you mewl out his name.  The prettiest and most desperate sounds spew out of your mouth, and he goes harder.  “Yeah!  Yeah!”

“Oh, you’re going to be bruised and sore when this weekend is done.”

“Give it to me.  And Don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” letting your legs rest on his shoulders, he grabs onto your hands on the headboard, “So you into choking?  Can I choke you?  Or are you going to swallow my spit?”

“Just fuck me!  Ahh!” He was hitting all the right spots, even if he did talk a lot.  Demanding your body, much like he demanded a room.  Nick was cocky for a reason, and you couldn’t wait to find all those reasons.  “I’m gonna cum.”

“I can tell.  Fuck!  Got me in a fucking vice grip.  Go on.  Let’s see how many times you cum before you pass out,” as your walls flutter around you, he removes one hand to grip to your neck.  Adding a bit more pressure, until you pussy clenches down on him, and he releases you.  “There’s one.”

You give Nick a dopey smile as he feasts on your cunt.  He seemed to favor this the most.  Running your fingers through his hairs as you bite your lip.  His scratchy beard and tongue had made you raw in the best way.  You had convinced Jack to keep Finn Sunday night and just take him on to school Monday easily.

And this is how you woke up.  With Nick dragging your body down the soiled bed, and shoving his mouth into your worn cunt while he kneeled in the floor.  He kept his promise of keeping you dumb.  It was the most peaceful weekend you could remember in months.  

His tongue enters into your sore pussy, while his nose stimulates your clit.  You were wrecked in the best possible way.  Thankful to have Mondays off, so you could enjoy this.  Condom wrappers were discarded throughout the floor, and after a long nap, you knew this room needed the deepest of cleans, but right now it was just Nick drowning in your juices.

You give his damp hair a quick tug at the roots, clearly, he had already showered.  Your fingers run up the back of his head, putting him as close to you as possible.  His hands were fondling your tits.  Pinching at your nipples when the spring in your tummy winds up.  The number of times you had came this weekend was unknown.  The amount of times you passed out was a mystery.  But right now that sweet high runs through your body, and a bright light blinds you momentarily.  Waking up only for Nick to run his tongue up your slit.  Gathering all your sweet honey, and moaning with satisfaction..

“If ever you need to forget, you’ve got my number,” he smirks as he struts out of your house.  You breathe harshly for a moment.  Letting your body come down from your high, before closing up the room that stenched of filthy sex.  Walking into your own where you grab one of Jack’s shirts, and carry it into the bathroom.  You needed a soaking hot bath to ease your aching muscles, and aspirin.  

You weren’t sure if now you felt better or worse.  Feeling as if you crossed a line with one of Jack’s co-workers.  You dip your body into the warm water slowly, groaning until your ass hits the bottom.  Leaning back, and sighing.  At this moment.  You really didn’t care.

——

Jack watches Nick as he struts into the precinct break room.  Getting unnecessarily close to him to make coffee, when Jack smells it.  A mixture of your favorite shampoo, and the undeniable scent of you.  He had left it on himself plenty of times to know.  Nick brings the mug up to his mouth with a smirk, giving Jack a wink.

“Fowler,” Cal nods his head to get his own coffee.  “How was your weekend?”

“It was rough.  I stayed in the house all day, soaking wet.”

“You do a new workout?” Cal asks, grabbing out a water bottle.

“Oh, I was definitely working something out.  All weekend long,” he sticks his finger in his mouth, and pulls it out with a pop.  “Still taste that sweet honey on my fingers.  Of course.  My fingers were very busy, having them in the honey pot over and over again.”

“You son of a bitch,” Jack growls out.

“What?  Is there something wrong?  Did I say something?”

“That’s why she wanted Finn to stay another night?” He slams his mug in the sink, and it shatters into thousands of pieces.  “You tell her how you like to brag about your sexual conquests?”

“It’s just sex.  Just hot, wet, throbbing, trembling, screaming, squirting flesh,” Jack lurches towards Nick, but Cal wraps his arms around his whole body.

“Jack, he’s an asshole,” Nick chuckles as he walks out the room, and Jack attempts to push Cal off of him.  “That’s not gonna work, you realize that, yes?”

“Get off me!”

“You almost punched your colleague.  Jack, the divorce is in the system.  She didn’t do anything wrong.  If she feels the need to sleep with a loser that won’t ever walk through her door again, that’s her prerogative.”

“It’s my fault,” Cal nods his head, grimacing, “No…we got in a fight when I picked up Finn.  She told me she was done.”

“Let her be done,” Jack shakes his head no, still refusing to even let that be an option.  “Then let her explore this time.  Maybe she needed it,” Jack looks up at Cal growling, and he backtracks.  You didn’t need Nick.  “If you want her, it’ll take more than telling her.  It’ll take time.”

“Finn says she still sleeps in my shirts.  What am I supposed to do with that?  I can’t…I can’t shake the feeling this is really it.”

“You want her back?  Work for it.  What did you do, agree to therapy after the divorce was filed?  It should have been your chance to make it work to begin with.  It’ll take more than that, and you know.  Expect more of these one off guys, buddy.  She’s turning into a buck wild woman again, and if she’s still sleeping in your shirts, maybe she’s trying to convince herself she doesn’t love you.  But you gotta work.  And work hard if you want to be with her.  Get ready for the ride of your life.  Because that’s two men you know she’s slept with.  Deal with it the best you can, but don’t give Nick what he wants.  He’s been hard up on her for a long time.”

“She didn’t want me to call her Sharkie,” Jack looks down at the floor, giving the disgusting wood a few taps with his boot.

“Jack, that’s your nickname for her from your first…hell, your first time sleeping with her.  That name represents the best part of your relationship.  Of course she doesn’t want you to call her that.  It hurts her.  Now, go clean up that mess, we’ve got paperwork to do.  And by we, I mean you.  You need your mind busy.  You’re gonna need that for a while,” Cal leaves Jack to clean up his coffee mug shards, but all he can do is picture you alone in your once shared bed, holding his pillow, and wearing his shirt.  If Finn saw you like that, it was true, and that hurt him more than anything.

The reality of just how much he had hurt you was becoming stifling to him.  He didn’t deserve you, and yet, he wanted to prove at least to himself that he tried.  Try to be the man that you deserve.  And tried with everything he could to get his family back.  He had to.  But he also knew Cal was right.  And your dates had only just begun.  And he hoped that this was the last one he knew about.  Because he couldn’t handle flashes of their hands on your body, the same body that he once called his.  

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