#the weekend/talk to me interlude

[021894s]

— 16 petty [1.3k W]

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PAIRING: brothers bsf! sunghoon x f!reader

WARNINGS: talks of revenge

AUTHORS NOTE: a little short chap but it ends on a little cliffhanger to get you all excited for 17🤗

Under the dappled shade of ancient trees, the gentle murmur of conversation blended with the rustling leaves and distant bird calls. You sat among friends, the air filled with the scent of pine and the earthy promise of an impending rain. It was a scene stolen from a painting, where time seemed to slow and the world outside this circle of companionship faded to a mere whisper.

Ningning's voice, warm and inviting, cut through the calm. "So how did everyone here meet?" Her smile was like the sun breaking through clouds, and all eyes turned to you.

You hesitated for a brief moment, the memories flooding back. "U-um, Heeseung pretty much introduced me to everyone here except those three over there," you said, pointing to Niki, Sunoo, and Jungwon. The names felt like a roll call of your shared pasts.

"Aww, so you and Heeseung are close?" Ningning prodded, her curiosity painting her words with genuine interest.

"Yeah, I mean, I never got the sister I wanted, so I had to settle for him," you joked, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. "And it's kinda hard not to get close with everyone with him throwing parties every other weekend." You shared a laugh with Ningning, the sound mingling with the symphony of nature around you.

The laughter faded into a comfortable silence, a brief interlude before Ningning's voice once again filled the space. "Can I ask you guys a question?"

"Yeah," came the chorus of replies, a harmony of openness and anticipation.

"Is Sunghoon seeing anyone else? He's so distant, and it feels like he only wants me around when something's on his mind," Ningning confessed, her words laced with a vulnerability that tugged at your heart.

You felt a jolt, a shock that rippled across your face, but it was Saerom who noticed, interpreting your expression as a cue to speak. "I wouldn't worry, he's a frat boy and doesn't know anything about being in a relationship, if that's what this is, of course," Saerom said, her tone dismissive yet not unkind.

"At first, I thought it was just sex, but when he invited me here, it felt like there was something more?" Ningning pondered aloud, her confusion mirroring your own.

The weight of the conversation pressed down on you, and without a small “excuse me”, you stood up, making your way inside.

the heaviness of Ningning's words clinged to you like a second skin. The kitchen was a sanctuary, a place of solace away from the tangled web of emotions outside. As you entered, the coolness of the room enveloped you, a stark contrast to the warmth of the gathering.

The clink of dishes and the soft hum of the refrigerator were your only companions as you began to busy yourself with a glass of water. The tap ran cold and clear, the sound soothing in its monotony. The water danced over your hands, downing it in one go, washing away the residue of the conversation.

Lost in thought, you didn't hear Sunghoon enter, his presence a silent shadow until he was beside you. "you ok?," he said, his voice a soft intrusion.

You jumped slightly, the surprise etching itself onto your face. "i’m fine, " you said, your heart still racing from the unexpected company.

You turn away from the comfort of the kitchen, the sanctuary it provided now feeling too small, too intimate. With a deep breath, you move past Sunghoon, the space between you charged with an energy you dare not acknowledge. Your shoulders nearly brush, a whisper of contact that sends a shiver down your spine. You keep your gaze firmly ahead, the stairs to your room calling you to the safety of solitude.

Sunghoon sighs, the sound heavy with things left unsaid, his eyes lingering on the space you just vacated. He stands motionless, lost in whatever thoughts are swirling through his mind, the moment stretching out like a thread pulled too tight.

It's Jake's voice that snaps him back to reality, a touch of annoyance lacing his words, "Dude, can you move out the way?" Sunghoon quickly moves to set everything on the counter, mind still fogged with the interaction you just had.

everyone one is outside mingling, awaiting the feast they’re about to have when you hear a gentle knock on the door, followed by the soft creak of hinges as your met with saerom, her presence a soothing balm to the tumultuous emotions swirling within you. She sits beside you on the bed, her voice a tender whisper, "I'm sorry you had to hear about ningning and Sunghoon's whole ordeal."

You draw in a shaky breath, the confusion within you cresting like a wave. "I don't understand why I'm feeling this way," you confess, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Every time I see Sunghoon, it's like I'm instantly brought back to that night we shared—the way he made me feel." You pause, the memory vivid, searing. "It was unlike anything I've ever felt before."

Saerom listens, her eyes filled with empathy as she takes your hand in hers. "Seeing him so cozy and openly with another girl is hard," you continue, the admission a whisper of vulnerability, "and I can't quite grasp why." The room is filled with your shared silence, a testament to the complexity of the human heart.

Got it, let's go with that plot twist. Saerom, with a knowing glint in her eye, leans back against the headboard, her voice laced with a hint of mischief. "Sunghoon can be such an idiot sometimes. He's just an inconsiderate jerk, you know?"

You can't help but let out a small laugh, the tension in your chest easing slightly. "Yeah, you're right," you agree, feeling a sense of solidarity in Saerom's blunt assessment.

With a playful smirk, Saerom suddenly sits up straighter, an idea sparking in her eyes. "What if you invited a guy friend over? Just to be petty and show Sunghoon that he's also easy to forget," she suggests, the corners of her lips tugging upward in a mischievous smile.

Even though you know it's not really the case, the idea of turning the tables on Sunghoon, if only to make a point, has its appeal. The plot thickens as you consider Saerom's suggestion, the wheels of your intricate story turning.

With a deep breath, you muster up a smile, not allowing the previous tension to cast a shadow over the rest of the evening. As you follow Saerom down the stairs and outside, the savory aroma of the food the guys prepared wafts through the air, a gentle reminder of the warmth and camaraderie that fills the air.

The laughter and chatter of your friends greet you as you reenter the backyard, the heart of the home, where memories are often made. You glance around at the faces you adore the most, a sense of gratitude washing over you. Sunghoon is there too, and for a moment, you lock eyes, a silent acknowledgment passing between you before you both focus on the feast before you.

The table is a colorful display of everyone's efforts, a mix of dishes that somehow come together to form a perfect ensemble. You take your seat, the laughter and stories flowing as freely as the drinks, each bite of the lovingly prepared food grounding you back to the present, to the joy of shared experiences and the unspoken bonds that tie you all together.

Tonight, you decide, is about the memories, the laughter, and the love that surrounds you. The complications of the heart can wait for another day. For now, there's joy to be found in the simple act of enjoying a meal with the people who mean the most.

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[astralnymphh]

veiled affections ⚝ | ellie williams

☆࿐-ˊˎ farm!ellie x fem!reader

⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆

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✧˖ ° 🕯 bright blessings!

AN: quick little smut to hold me off before i work on a bigger project/series fic!! more casual and less proofread like my last one but still pretty good ifya ask me <3

tags/cw: NSFW!! SMUT!! 18+ MDNI, usual playful bickering, one second of cuddiling, poetic ahh writing, very mild foreplay, hella dirty talk, lotsa swearing, oral (receiving) spitting, clit stim (receiving), petnames (babe, baby, good girl)

WC: 2k+

designated song: stargirl interlude - the weekend & lana del rey

synopsis; swept under your fossil gray wool blanket, a body deprived of slumber and living the effects of back-bending chores all around the farmhouse has you fatigued and yearning to supply the last ounce of energy with a bit of literature. eventually, ellie will set that book on rain check, and your fatigue, ..and her boredom. honestly, she'll definitely be the one to steal your energy instead of the book. 

radiance incarnate is what lies behind the glass pane just ahead of your bed-post. lunar light outstanding the dark night, never lacking a few stars that flecked the sky above the nocturnal forest, at least what you could perceive through a regular sized window. fusing with the comfortability of your mattress and cloaked in a warm wool blanket makes for a nice end-of-the-day reward while you immerse yourself in the realm of 'the odyssey'. ellie's not in bed. not in the room. she's presumably downstairs finishing up something, so not a clue of her coming is on your mind.

you wriggle around the soft bed altering your position to have one leg bent and the other draped over, the book upheld by the bulk of your thigh making it easier to flip through. page by page, word by word, space and time diminishes around you and is replaced by this entrancing world of mycenaean greece portraying the aegean sea. the room was dimly lit and still, minus the muted sounds of an owl and crickets chirping beyond the wooden walls. serenity lasts for a good half hour before an upsurge of hard rubber footsteps wake the floor by the bedroom door to the right of you.

"hey babe- ooh, what'cha reading?" ellie's voice grapples your focus to her profile, attired in her white shirt, grubby denim and converse that look like they've been dragged to hell.

"the odyssey." you respond as she begins to lurk closer, arms crossed.

she swipes her tongue across her lips, saying, "y'know.. savage starlight might be more.. fun to read?" in an obviously sarcastic note, creasing her brows together accompanying a brass smirk.

"to you, maybe. I actually enjoy this a lot." you cave the book over your chest, sitting like a roof, "you just don't have a mature taste."

"whadda'ya mean? comics are for everyone, and actually easy to understand." she clambers atop of your hips, descending her face upon you, "unlike the odyssey."

"pshh, the odyssey is a classic." you highlight.

"you're just mad that im right." 

you pucker a pout, slowly lifting the book between your noses till ellie knocks it down plumb on your collarbone.

"ah-uh," she intently strikes spires into your eyes with her persuasive peer, narrowing those lids in an undeniably tantalizing way, "can't ignore this now."

"you're right." you spat out and divided the space with your book again.

"c'mon.." she prys the book from your limp grasp, leaving it astray to the bed adjacent to you, "I'm here now, aren't I?" a humbly intimate whisper croaks from her toothy grin.

you banish your sight to the headboard above, pondering the words that would wisp from your lips, "I have a few pages left, babe, then we'll do whatever.."

"mmk, 'gonna lay on you though." she giggles and shuffles along the length of you, interlacing your limbs together and smushing her cheek on your stomach. her arms swathe your hips and tuck underneath your butt.

the book diverged from your fingertips finds its way back, cuddled between your thumbs and eclipses ellie's head from your vision. your pupils root back to the muster of sentences lining the page, with a certain breath gusting onto your mildly exposed midriff.

a scant minute survives before a husk is heard, "mmph- so warm.." the tip of her nose drags on your skin as she faces downward, marking an indulgent smooch to your abdomen. 

that brought a melliferous smile to draw out, instilled with admiration from her speckled kisses. it anchors your attention unwillingly when these kisses continue but you'd rather void it and tread on with reading as ellie treads on with a rampancy of taunting kisses. normally, this'd be blasé, but tonight, it's turning your tides.

ellie muffles, "wann' kiss every inch.." her nibbles subside in target of your navel, nuzzling on the pouch of your belly and biting your shorts' band, "fuck.."

"els."

"mhm?"

"what're up to?" the book slants down.

"you."

"elsies.." 

"just showin' my love.." her tone airs up and turns raspy. 

"I think it's more than that." you dig at her transparent peak in sensuality and prod her foot with yours.

ellie can't necessarily disprove this, she was blatantly horny but wanted to keep that 'under the covers' till you shared the feeling outwardly. a shameless smirk paints her mouth regardless, "y'know what I really wanna do?"

"what?"

a gnaw at her lower lip fracts the answer briefly, uttering, "I wanna eat your fucking pussy." and blunt she was, verdant eyes fastened to yours. she's so eager for you, clawing at your loins.

a shudder bolts the extent of your nerves and you clench around nothing but a throb at the contents of her question, visibly ruffled up by it, "babe.." 

"can I?"

nary a gloom of doubt inhabits your mind, the way she's laying on your body, patient to taste you revs you up like a torrent of arousal. oh my fucking goddess. it's making you go wild.

"yes.." 

"shit- m'kay, lemme just.." ellie wrinkles up the sheet in her fist, tossing it overhead till her head was obscured by it. the amber hue of her hair is subtle under the thin pearly sheet as she slithers down between the interstice of your thighs.

maybe the now carnal environment made it inconvenient to carry on with the perusal of your book, but you're elevating it back up from your sternum regardless. the vivid thought of her eating you out while you read is a bit elating, is it not?

ellie's cunning lips park at the epitome of your core, locking her biceps under your slack legs and dangling her still shoe-clad feet off the beds' brink.

"can't wait to see that beautiful fucking pussy.." her veiled voice has strings of raw ardor plucking in her throttle rippling onto your clothed entrance with a muggy pant on every word.

an unheard gulp passes through to the trench of your chest, sending out a reflex of sweet sensations to your pelvis, whimpering, "mhh- ellie.."

"shhhshhh.. i got'chu.." 

she begins to pleat your panties over themselves and slip them off your legs, whizzing them away to some lifeless nook of the tucked-in sheets.

"fuck.. shit-" ellie heaves in awe, even day after day of seeing you bare, it's so titillating to her, drool is abandoning her lips.

the paragraphs living on the pages merge into an unintelligible blob as your vision drowses and the only sensation you can detect is her breath lathering your exposed slit. an open 'ptui' is heard prior to a wet glob landing on your clit and evoking a jolt from your body.

"so sensitive.." she pokes fun at your reaction, slapping her digits down on your sappy pussy and rubbing the spit through your folds, which to much avail, juts your body again.

"fck!" you hack out a swear at each writhe and prod.

"yeah, like that?" 

the grip on your book tightens, causing it to tremor in your shaky hold.

"gonna taste so fuckin' good, mmh.." she murmurs to herself but you catch the gist since immediately after her lips envelop your clit and enlist deft torpedo laps to it.

a heap of pleasurous pricks throb in your cunt and garner a gentle mewl from your chords, whining, "gh- mhhhn.." tenderly in growing bliss.

ellie laps your clit in brisk flicks while sucking it up with noises similar to kissing resounding through the sheer fabric cascading over her head.

you observe the cover moving with every mild thrust of her head, creasing and shuffling with the halo of her hair. a hand prowls from the sheets' hem and searches for anywhere to rest, to which you beckon it to your breast.

she realizes this and gives it duo squeezes for good measure and her unemployed fingers knead the squishy flesh of your ass, all while smirking.

"mmhh~ I wanna see you.." you mumble into the whafted-shut book, knocking off the already sliding sheet with your knee to reveal a flushed ellie with her nose buried in your crotch, her pretty face poised between your thighs, stuffed in your cunt.

her irises hark this newfound horizon before her and diffuse an intense glare that shudders your soul, sinking her lips deeper into those parted folds and drinking up your sticky deluge.

her mouth disconnects with threads of saliva and slick following, "this pussy tastes s'fucking divine, you know that right?"

"y-yeah.."

"could go down n'you for breakfast, lunch n' dinner.. fuck- baby.." 

ellie retreats her keen tongue, dipping into your entrance and soaking up the lewd coating of your walls. oral sounds of her mouth practically having a make-out sesh with your puffy lips overflow the room and bounce like an echo betwixt your ears.

"ohh my godd.." your moans enhance and amplify in the sea of ebbing relief and flowing pleasure.

her pecan speckled skin tinted with rose is glazed with a sinful slick from how far she pushed her face in, a terribly arousing sight to behold when she withdraws to praise her own work.

"how's m'pretty girl doing?"

"s-so.. closee.."

"want' you to moan my name when you do, yeah?"

"o-okay.."

"I wanna know how fuckin' good I make you feel." her sharp curses stay unyielding in her expression.

"mh-mhghmm.." your throat clogs up in anticipation.

ellie pours over your bare stature one last time before gripping the back of your knees and pushing them up till your feet meet the sky.

"that's better."

her lips smash into your cunt once again and prove to be frothing with a craving for you, clenched brows and grunting into your groin intently. she explores every attainable inch like she knows it, licking up your pre-cum like it's the last fucking meal on earth.

"oh- fuck!" you wail out, webbing your fingers in her frizzed up locks by habit.

her inhuman speeds catch you out of the blue, binding her tastebuds with your natural taste and delighted in every millisecond of it. she hoists onto her knees and hovers over your bottom half, wriggling her tongue over your entire opening and sending that abused clit into overdrive.

"el-ell.. ellie! i can't fucki- ah!" a high squeak blazes from your gullet.

she blurts out, "cum on m'fuckin' face." submerged in your folds.

"els.. mh!"

it's the end for you when she starts purposefully moaning on your bud, finally ushering your climax to dull your senses and numbfuck your consciousness. your reality is painted with a globe of starlight just by the heavenly feeling of it.

"good girl..-fck, there there..." ellies gingerly tone conflicts with her devilish play, drinking up the breach of cum gushing from your orgasm.

"oof.. jeez.." you recline your legs once her hands flee, huffing your way down from the celestial heavens.

ellie clambers up and collapses next to you, a smug and prideful visage staring back at your profile. 

"did ya finish those pages?"

"erm, no." 

she butts off a laugh, "eh, well.." her palm advances your bangs, hooking them behind the conch of your ear, "ended up having more fun, yeah?'

"i- yeah.. I guess.."

"you guess?"

"coulda been a lot better."

"whaaaat?" she mimicked an offended countenance.

"like it's nothing to write home about-"

"u're just trynna rile me up!"

"what if I am?" you boldy tease, tutting your skull side-to-side.

and that's ellie's one weakness, teasing. her brows hike, hollering "ohhh- I see how it is!" and rolls on top of you and thrusts her pelvis down with clear intention, "c'mere-"

"fhmm--" her willowy finger seals your lips, heeding the provocation you've cast into her mind.

"you're on."

⋆༺𓆩⚔𓆪༻⋆

hoep you enjoyed <3

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[berberriescorner]

“Are You Listening?”

Interlude: “Drinks On Me, Yeah?”

Characters: Rio x Black!Reader.

Summary: Issa Interlude, mama. Expect the unexpected.

Warnings: Profanity, angst, fluff, and drinking-little libation for the one, two.

Word Count: 1,700+.

A/N: My lovelies! My babies! Mama’s back and I got a little sum-sum for ya! Let’s start this weekend with a little Rio and the crew, yeah? Yeah. I want to give so many thanks to all of you sweet lovelies who have been rocking with me this entire time. Most of you know that the past year and a half has been quite the struggle. To everybody who took time out of your day to come and check in on me, please know that I’m appreciative and forever grateful to have connected with such amazing people🥹♥️. Thank you for all the sweet, hilarious comments and asks as well💓. I’m a little rusty, so be gentle with your girl. Enjoy my sweet babies.  Before anyone asks, yes, I’ve been working on Pt. 4😂😏😈.

"Are You Listening?" - The Playlist

Apple Music.

Spotify.

Part One Here.

Part Two Here.

Part Three Here.

Inspired By:

Your body pressed down into the plush mattress as you reveled in the comfort and security of being home. Your mind replayed the image of your mom snatching the door open, the two of you hugging tightly, rocking side to side. You had spent the past week trying to survive final exams and warding off the many questions of, “What’s wrong, baby girl?” The woman who gave you life knew you all too well. Sensing that her youngest baby was struggling, her attempts to get you to open up over the phone went unanswered. With the semester complete, being home didn’t leave much space to dodge the knowing gaze in her eyes. 

That master’s degree will probably be a waste of time.

The moment you pulled away from the hug, she cupped your chin, and your poker face cracked as the tears cascaded down your cheeks. Two hours later, you filled her in on everything from the stress of school, financial aid, working doubles, and the fresh crack in your heart that was taking its sweet-ass time to heal. All of which had only taken about forty minutes to stutter out. The talk and her comfort had left you wiped out, and just like any amazing mother would do, she sent you to your room for a nap and got to work on preparing comfort food.

You considered dozing off for a bit more rest, but your bedroom door flew open, bouncing off the corner of your vanity. Your eyes narrowed to mere slits as you started to curse your oldest brother out. His hand raising halted the verbal reprimand.

“Alena’s big-headed ass is here to see ya mean ass,” he snarked about the woman who would eventually become his wife.

These two bitches are so in love. It’s sickening. The attraction is so annoyingly obvious. Shit makes me sick to my stomach.

Before you could tell him you didn’t want company, she was already in the doorframe. “Uh-uh, bitch you are not about to dodge me for another two weeks.” With those words said, you had no choice but to give her a rundown of what had transpired. Not only had she forced you to divulge every last detail while the two of you hugged and cried together. She also took it upon herself to wiggle you into your best freakum dress and head out for a girl’s night.

Being the baby and the only girl in your family made for very over-the-top protective parents. The moment your father saw your attire, he wouldn’t let up. He was hell-bent on forcing your brothers to chaperone.

It wasn’t a horrible idea.  Only you didn’t like your independence challenged. Luckily, the older siblings were pretty chill, so long as no one was overly aggressive. They had taught you how to handle shit for yourself at a young age. You spent the first half hour in the club pouting and ready to go home to wallow in self-misery.

“Hoe! If you don’t fix your face, scaring off every good-looking man in this club!”

“They’ll be alright, so long as they keep their distance. In case you didn’t get the memo after our long talk. Men make my ass itch,” you growled, kissing your teeth.

“Whateva, you and that stank attitude can have a good time together,” she sassed, throwing up a hand and walking away from the bar.”

“Where are you going? Alena!”

“I’ll be back, damn! Let me go on and annoy them, fine-ass brothers of yours. Be nice, and don’t bite nobody head off, sourpuss.”

“Always thirsting after my blood, just triflin’.”

With the flick of a middle finger, she sauntered over to their section. You could see the irritation rolling off them as she seated herself in the middle. The arguing started seconds later. Your eye twitched at the sight. Swinging the barstool back toward the liquor, you were about to pass the time scrolling through social media. Instead, a set of bronzed-colored, muscular digits came into view. They gently pressed your phone to the bar as the matching digits slid another lemon drop into view. Your eyes danced along those muscular fingers, trailing upward until they landed on one of the sexiest faces you’d ever witnessed. If any other man would’ve done this, he would’ve been set straight expeditiously. In this instance, ole boy was just too damn fine, and it left you on mute. The corners of his mouth lifted into a handsome smirk.

The stranger turned his barstool to get closer. One hand rested on the bar while the other cradled the back of your seat. His eyes roamed over your body, lip tucking between his teeth, matching you stare for stare. He chuckled when he noticed your quirked eyebrow.

“I don’t mean to intrude on ya evening, but I figured you could use another drink.”

“Is that so?”

“Couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with your friend. I’m tryin’ to  figure out why these men got your fine ass itching out here.”

Shit, he heard that? Floor, open up and swallow me. That’s so damn embarrassing.

As if reading your thoughts, he continued, “Nothing to be embarrassed about, mama. There’s a lot of boys running around here pretending to be men. Who was crazy enough to fumble you? He gotta be the dumbest man on earth.”

As if on cue, said fumbler’s name popped up on your caller ID. With a swipe of a finger, the phone went silent. You turned back to your new admirer. He had signaled for another round of drinks.

“Either you’re a big spender, or the bartender is your connect,” you teased.

“Connect is one way of putting it. This my spot, darlin’.”

He chuckled as you damn near choked on your drink.

“I’m sorry. Tend to put my foot in my mouth.”

“You good. I like a woman who’s not afraid to speak her mind. Dealing with me, you go to say it with your chest.”

“Oh, so you plan to be around me beyond tonight?”

“Around, underneath, on top. We locked in, mama,” he insisted, licking his lips.

“I don’t even know your name, fool,” you cackled at his cockiness.

“Name’s Rio, but you can call me Christopher, mama. My future wife needs to know my government name. I’m putting my trust in you. Don’t be tellin’ my business, sweetheart.”

“Who says I’m checking for you, Rio?”

“You accepted my company and drinks. Deep down, you’re intrigued by me. Ain’t no need to hide it. When I see something I want, gotta go after it, mama.” he rasped, voice lowering to a panty-dropping level.

“You’re trouble. I just know it.”

Rio planted both hands on your thighs. The gasp that escaped you lit his brown orbs with passion.

“Can I have your undivided attention for the night? Want to get to know you better, mama.”

Grabbing his outstretched hand, he helped you down off the stool.

“Rio…”

Piercing light flickered in the darkness, pulling you from the memory that played itself in your dreams. Your hand snatched the vibrating phone from the table. Your orbs squinted to read the screen, teeth clenching in frustration.

Fucking Rio, I can’t even get away from him in my sleep. Stupid-handsome-asshole.

With a single tap, the phone rested on DND. You closed off from the world to find a peaceful slumber, only to wake from another dream. Throwing the covers back, you startled, feeling the bed dip. His cologne wafted through the air, and your eyes connected.

“Why all the tossing and turning, amor? Hmm,” he rasped, hand trailing up your arm. His warm palm cradled the side of your neck, rubbing away some of the tension.

“Sorry, did my restlessness wake you?”

“No, querida. I’ve been up taking care of some things.”

“Same old Miguel. Everything business. Still don’t sleep much, huh?”

His eyes crinkled with a small smile, but you could also see sadness. It’s the same unhappiness that’s always lingered, only now accompanied by sparks of anger and resentment. Your mind replayed his words in the elevator.

Where’s your wife, Miguel?

She had other plans tonight.

The slightest mention of her had nearly sent his mood spiraling. You weren’t privy to what was happening in his marriage but didn’t want to pry. He would only reverse card uno your ass. Miguel would insist that you vent about your own life and frustrations.

“Thank you for taking the couch,” you nibbled at your lip. 

There was a hint of frustration and guilt lingering in your chest. Not being able to sleep without dreaming of Rio left you feeling conflicted. Part of you wanted to say to hell with loyalty. Being in such a vulnerable state had you craving to be held and cuddled, but regardless of circumstance, the two of you were very much married. Concern swam in the pools of his eyes. Miguel sensed the ongoing dilemma in your head, and his fingers gently cupped your chin.

“Hey, talk to me. What’s all this,” he asked, tugging the lip between your teeth. “Tell me what you need.”

“I can’t,” you sighed.

“You can, and you will. Look at me,” he insisted as your eyes locked.

“Anything you ask me. It won’t leave this room. You need me to hold you until sleep takes over, amor?”

Unable to verbally say it, you gave him a slight head nod. Removing his tie, watch, and shoes, he made it over to the opposite side of the bed. Miguel got right to it, not giving you time to overthink it. He pulled you into his chest, arms engulfing you in a tight hug.

“Were you having nightmares, cariño?”

“No, just happy memories reminding me of the present painful ones,” you replied, voice filling with unshed tears.

“You want to talk about it?”

Silence filled the room as Miguel continued, “We don’t have to ta-.”

His sentence cut short as he felt the tremors and your head burrowed into his side. Miguel’s heart cracked at the sound of the sobs falling from your lips. His arms pulled you further into him until there was no space left, and the palm of his hand rubbed at your head.

“Shhh, you’re okay. I’m here,” he cooed, leaving soft kisses on the crown of your head.

Miguel continued to whisper calming words. You cried until your head pounded, and sleep took over.

Hope you all enjoyed that little peek into how Rio pulled up on your girl for the first time. He saw something he liked, and he had to have you🥰. We’ll just call this a vague moment of insight into upcoming events...if that makes sense 😆. If you enjoyed please be sure to hit the love button, comment, and reblog. Spread the love, my babies.

Divider: @firefly-graphics

Tags:

@darqchilddaydreamz @4everbrookemarie @astoldbychae @percosim @1andonlytashae @nightlywords7 @amorestevens @crimsonheart01 @rio-reid-whoreee @mrsmontanalol @igigix @keaboyd21 @blowmymbackout @uhlxis @abcdestinyyyy @hihellogoodbyebruh @sunshine-flower @lemmewritesomeish @catxo @naughtyslashers @realhotgurlshit @peaches007 @gardenof-venus @aizawash0e @minton131 @novaniskye @90sisthenew80s @cjricks98 @skyesthebomb @myownworstenemydw @lifeofthelovelyone @tashawar @gabbywontlose @kayla1blog @skelly-baby @adg1115 @blessedboo @fandomcitysstuff @drinaj @being-worthy @sxkxna @whore4-horror @elliesrealgf @pimpsdontcryy @batgurl42 @gotbeefbitch-blog @thedopestblackgirl @nunya7394 @midnightheat @pixieyosi @imjustheretoreads-blog 

@superhoeva @memeaaaa @djconde58

#berberriescorner #are you listening? #issa interlude #drinks on me-yeah? #series #rio x black!reader #rio x woc!reader #rio x reader #rio x y/n #rio fanfic #rio fanfiction #rio good girls #good girls rio #manny montana #black writer #spotify #daddy rio #miguel galindo #daddy miguel #rich papi #danny pino #i love my mutuals😍 #Spotify

[chocsra]

"Lovesick (Interlude)"

Chuuya x fem! reader - highschool AU

A/N: hii how are yall doing, its the weekend and yk what that means 🙏 thank you to all to those who have send me requests! i have read them all and plan to write all of them 😻🫶

thank you sm @sstarshroom for the request again 🫶😭

content: detention w your friend and school gangster chuuya nakahara, oneshot, pre-relationship (almost), romance, fluff, friends to lovers, idiots in love, i was thinking of kunikida when writing the teacher but then i realised he and chuuya would be the same age 😨

"This behaviour is unacceptable, Nakahara, I'll be calling your brother. Sit down."

A deep hoarse voice pierces through the late silence of the empty classroom, your teacher clicks his tongue in annoyance as he urges your classmate, Chuuya, to take a seat. The teenage boy, in his school uniform, shrugs and strides his way to the empty desk next to yours. "Ah," your teacher scoffs, stopping dead in his tracks. "Sit somewhere else, you need to learn your darn lesson." the man points an angry finger at the ginger, you look over to him, suppressing bits of laughter as Chuuya glares at the floor in irritation before taking a seat a few desks away from you.

He had short orange hair and piercing blue eyes, not the kind of blue that was like that of an ocean or jewel, but a dark, whirling storm. Chuuya Nakahara was a classmate of yours who was relatively short, athletic, independent and smart; but he had a pretty big issue within school, violence. Fights on fights on fights, the kid really couldn't catch a break from beating up people, could he? From what you've accumulated, he loved taekwondo as a kid until now before forming a loving bond with soccer; Chuuya loved fashion and forming good impressions, so it wasn't much to your surprise for him to show up to school on a motorcycle to achieve some 'gangster' look.

He loved stray dogs and begrudgingly fed stray cats, the loudness of the teenage boy was normal; but it brought some sort of fondness towards you, especially as friends. Yeah, you enjoyed having a nice friendship with the scruffy Chuuya Nakahara, the human embodiment of a chihuahua or grumpy cat. Sometimes, he forced you to go on morning runs with him, or rant about the future wine he was to buy and collect - 'bullshit', you thought, who would spend 30 grand on alcohol?

The redhead had a few friends in school - you, Albatross, the honour roll and senior student Kouyou Ozaki, his friend group who called themselves 'Sheep', based on a movie or something. Oh, and Dazai, well, you weren't sure if they were really friends or not - but by the looks of it, they seem to be the closest out of everyone else.

"No talking."

Your teacher orders, clicking the door open ready to leave; he sends an exaggerated glare at the both of you in the dim classroom that makes you suppress a cackle. Then, he finally left - his leather shoes clicking against the school floors. A heavy silence entered the empty classroom, hearing your teacher's ghostly footsteps until they disappeared. Chuuya then scoots his chair far closer to you, an irritated but victorious smile accompanied by the pleasant features of his face.

"Now how'd you end up in detention?" He questions with a proud smirk, patting your shoulder affectionately. "Slept in class," you chuckle, sighing, then resting your head atop the wooden desk; the ginger laughs in amusement, his angry mood quickly dissipated at the simple conversation with you. "what did you do this time?" you question, quirking a brow as the redhead scoffs, "The usual, beat the shit 'outta Osamu." he clicks his tongue. "Again? Over what?" you snicker casually, it wasn't very good to be friends with a school delinquent - but you knew he wasn't that bad, considering he was in tears watching 'A Dog's Way Home'.

"Poetry," Chuuya mutters, looking away shamefully, making you smile cheekily and laugh at the stupid reason. "Poetry?!" you smack his back playfully, making the boy wince in pain at the aggressive happiness. "He fuckin' said my love poems were shitty, that's not true!" You laugh at him for a split second, before cocking another brow. "You write love poems?" the ginger goes beet red at your realisation, before turning away and blushing, "It's just- whatever," Chuuya quips, you chuckle in pure amusement. "I never thought you would ever write a poem, a love poem especially." The boy scoffs, "The more you know, I guess."

"So then, who's it to?" You ask with curiosity filling your eyes, elbows planted clean on the desk. Chuuya shakes his head in denial, pursing his lips, not wanting to speak up. "That doesn't matter." he quips, biting his inner cheek in a flustered crisis; you only smile cheekily at his reactions, leaning in closer to his face, "Osamu?" the ginger flinches and almost flies off his seat at the name, scoffing absolutely baffled. "No!! What the hell?" you laugh, hitting the desk at the moment, watching as a small smile creeps on the redhead's face, his cheeks flushed a rosy pink. "Did I not just say I beat the shit outta him?"

You both scoff and turn your heads away, "Well - you never told me you liked somebody." the redhead purses his lips in annoyance, "'Cause ya didn't need to know." you quirk a brow at the heavy tension in the room, both of you getting quiet. "So then who is it?" you ask again, tracing shapes on the wooden desk in front of you. "I can't tell you," the redhead states, fiddling with his fingers; you part your lips in a teasing manner, "Just tell me and-"

"and ruin our friendship?"

you widen your eyes at Chuuya's words, the ginger looks painfully ashamed at his slip-up, swiping his tongue against his inner cheek with the scrunch of his face. "What?" you blink, staring at him under the dimly lit lighting. "What?" he repeats, completely stunned at his own words.

A heavy silence filled the room, the boy pensively squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment. "Does that mean what I think it does?" You choke out, a pink blush prominent on your cheeks; the redhead runs a hand through his hair in mild frustration. "Sorry," Chuuya shies away, turning his head to face away from your pretty gaze.

In all those months of torturous school, you've met a nice boy by the name of Chuuya Nakahara. He loved soccer, taekwondo, motorcycles, and music, and had many friends that he held near and dear to his heart. To you, he was a short, competitive, school troublemaker that roamed those crowded hallways arguing with Osamu with boring eyes. But to him, you were a girl who kept him awake on those terrible, sleepless nights, he thought of your name when he was first introduced into poetry, and he gets reminded of your bright smile as he thinks of the word 'sonnets'. To the boy, sometimes he felt out of touch with reality; because he hated the thought of falling in love, he despised the slow melody in romance songs, but meeting you only made his life slow down, just like the poetic rhythm of a cheesy song.

No, Chuuya was an idiot in denial; everybody could tell - especially when he got hit in the face with a soccer ball as you captured his gaze, his vision blurred to only your perfection and your perfection only. Chuuya Nakahara, the boy who was your friend for God knows how long; is terribly lovesick because of you.

"You shouldn't be," you mutter, brushing your fingertips over his soft hands; the ginger only widens his eyes at your words and lingering touch, the sparkle in his eyes signalling his greatest happiness. "I like you too," you whisper, locking eyes with the floor as the heat in your cheeks never seems to dissipate. Chuuya's fingers shook slightly in shock, his lips parting ever so slightly; he stared at your beautiful features in that damn classroom, the soreness of his knuckles fading as your words were the best yearning kisses to it he could ever ask for.

"..Can I kiss you?"

He stammers, watching as your lips curve into a smile he adored so much. "You're such an idiot." you laugh, fingers grazing to cup his soft cheeks ever so softly, pulling his lips into a sweet kiss. Chuuya's heart thumped loudly in his chest, his shaky hands flying to your waist and hand to cradle them with the affection that danced with the praise he sang in all those poems. The redhead's hitched breath tickled your lips as you slowly interlock, eyelids and pretty eyelashes fluttering shut at the tummy twisting feelings; you both had fuzzy minds, losing the ability to even think straight.

And as you felt his endearing lips reanimate any bore or sadness in that tedious classroom, you found the dim lighting to be the most tacky source of illumination; because Chuuya was - a graceful presence that made any fairytale or novel vanish in envy.

"You two!! I leave you right under my nose and this is what happens?!"

Your teacher storms in, completely enraged with a hint of amusement as you both scream in terror.

Yeah, you were both fucked, but at least you got a great, loving boyfriend out of it? 

#Spotify #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #15 chuuya #15 light novel bsd #chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #chuuya loves taekwondo canon #chuuya x you #chuuya fluff #chuuya bsd #chuuya x y/n

[ateez-himari]

HEATED COACHELLA STAGE

After many attendees holding their breath for the next bold move MinAri might enact, it seems as though their shyness finally dissipated.

April 20, 2024 (6:48PM)

While weekend two unfortunately marked the last performance held by ATEEZ on a Coachella stage as of this year, the group left an ever lasting impression with powerful choreography paired with breath taking visuals and raw vocals. Through the numerous clips circulating online there is a specific instance that has been sending social media platforms into a reposting frenzy, one involving a rather passionate display by main rapper, Mingi, and lead vocalist, Himari.

While viewers were expecting something such as this to happen due to the intimate moment shared between the two during their first performance, it seems as though none were truly ready to witness it with their own eyes on stage. The interlude to their song 'Arriba' left gasps echoing in the crowd as Mingi pulled the maknae in for a true lover's kiss, an arm tightly draped across her waist whilst the other motioned for attendees to make some noise. In contrast to the beginning of the group's career where the two saw their reputation nearly torn to pieces following dating rumors, which were later disproved as nothing more than a scheme to have the vocalist removed, the crowd showed their support through loud cheers and vibrant excitement.

Their own bandmates could be seen encouraging them as some used water bottles to simulate rain, every artist on that stage including backup dancers visibly enjoying the relaxed atmosphere that had been created. Following the performance several members had gone live for a few minutes, one of them being Seonghwa who briefly mentioned a comment refering to the heated kiss as the vocalist could be seen giggling in the background prior to him playfully scolding her.

'That...we definitely expected it since he had talked about it during rehearsal, but I thought it was going to be like the first day. It flustered me too but seeing everyone having fun made me happy.'

Despite these heated stage interactions no official label has been placed on their relationship due to no statements coming out regarding the situation, leading some to believe that it was no more than a rehearsed act to rile up fans or that whatever is happening between them is simply a more intimate level of friendship. There is a possibility that this moment stemmed from the artists' immersion in the performance as well as the heat of the moment, as the youngest is after all a member of the 'Demon Line' and both are known to have rather intense stage personas.

'Seeing people say that they're still 'just friends' is so funny to me 😭Like do you guys not see everything they've been doing for a year now ? I get the people saying they could be 'friend with benefits' but come on...' - X user

It seems as though neither artist not the company intends to lift the mystery surrounding their relation to one another as of yet, leaving netizens to create countless speculations without the certainty of a confirmation. One thing that everyone can be sure of however is that this group knows how to set a stage on fire no matter who the people watching might be, living up to their newly earned nickname of 'Pirate Kings of Sahara'.

Share This Post

#ateez au #ateez imagines #ateez 9th member #ateez extra member #ateez female member #kpop oc #himarinews♡

[artsyunderstudy]

Six Sentence Sunday

Thank you to everyone who tagged me this morning! I can't wait to take a look at everyone's WIPs.

This has been A Week. it's been A Fucking Month. I finally started working on the final chapter of Your Fragile Bones Are Mine but its still early stages. I'm hoping to have it done to post next weekend? I dunno, but that's my aim. Definitely didn't expect there to be a month wait for it but here we are, we took a sexy little interlude for EGF.

I haven't done too much, but here is some of what I have. More kinda sad feels but theres a light at the end of this. And like, a fuckton of cuddling and talking I expect.

Simon just needs to process some stuff.

I think I slept for a little while. Sort of blinked out in that post-orgasm haze, all of me syrupy and content. But it didn’t last. I’d shut a door in my head between myself and what happened that day at the gate, but that feeling—that gut-wrenching panic, that fear and hunger that I couldn’t distinguish from my own—it’s all twisted up in knowing where Baz was. How much of that panic belonged to him. I think I knew the whole time, but I couldn’t let myself …  Fuck. My face turns into the fluffy mess of his hair, and I take in a deep breath. 

Tags under the cut!

@shemakesmeforget @stitchyqueer @rimeswithpurple @imagineacoolusername  @martsonmars  @valeffelees  @ileadacharmedlife  @aristocratic-otter  @urban-sith  @letraspal  @palimpsessed  @whatevertheweather  @nightimedreamersworld  @carryonsimoncarryonbaz  @raenestee  @moodandmist  @shrekgogurt  @whogaveyoupermission  @onepintobean  @ebbpettier @captain-aralias @fatalfangirl  @prettygoododds @ivelovedhimthroughworse @mysterioussheep @c0nsumemy5oul @facewithoutheart @j-nipper-95 @alexalexinii @iamamythologicalcreature @supercutedinosaurs @best--dress @messofthejess @mooncello @orange-peony @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @bookish-bogwitch @confused-bi-queer @youarenevertooold @that-disabled-princess @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @theearlgreymage @blackberrysummerblog @nausikaaa @thewholelemon @cutestkilla @emeryhall @hushed-chorus @forabeatofadrum

#snowbaz fic #artsyfic #six sentence sunday #surprisingly i got kinda close to six sentences this time

[stillpanicking]

Apology Fudge: Interlude

An interlude to this, this post I made, Apology Fudge. I have decided to write a full on fanfic of the AU. But before I get to the whole... Jason finding the container of Apology Fudge... let us start from the beginning.

THE ORIGINS OF THE APOLOGY FUDGE!

Well... an intro that is...

Just a heads up... I'm currently dealing with a family loss, please don't pressure me for quick updates at this moment.

Jack knew something was going on with his youngest. He may not be a consistent parent in his kids lives, he knows his kids. Just as he knows whatever is going on with Danny, Jazz knows and is doing her best to help him. At age 15, Danny became rather reserved and kept hiding away in a black and white hoodie Sam gave him for their anniversary. The hoodie brought Danny comfort, nearly tearing down their home when it went missing once.

After that, Danny-boy behavior changed. It became… too perfect. Too good. Hiding behind far strained of a smile.

"He reminds me of me, when I tried to be the perfect son for my parents." Jack confessed to Maddie one night. "That was before I left for university…"

Maddie placed a hand over his heart in an attempt to console hm. Despite how open her husband is about his family, any mention of his parents always seemed to damper Jack's entire mood. His parents never approved of his fascination with ghosts, let alone his choice to move out of state to continue his studies. They had cut all contact with their own son until he came to his senses. Seeing as Jack hasn’t spoken to his parents since Jazz’s birth…

“…I’m going to take him out fishing this weekend.”

Jack could tell the moment he and his son exited the vehicle with their fishing gear on, that it was a good start to an early morning. Small talk was done, mainly himself going on about wanting to see if he could catch a ghost fish. Maybe his old pet fish, Fishy Fish. He still swears he could see Fishy Fish in his dreams at times. Danny relaxed some more, throwing in some jokes of his own about Fishy Fish and maybe they should get an aquarium.

"That's the spirit!" Jack exclaimed, turning on the engine to the fishing boat. "Now to get us some dinner!"

Yes... dinner. If Danny is able to maintain his composure for that long. Sure, he loves spending time with his dad. More so when it comes to the fishing trips. But that changed after... smiling to hide his secrets and the fears that threaten to take over. His smile strained as his dad talked about some recent weapon designs he's been developing.

Looking away, tightly gripping the fishing rod as he tried to not think about it. The weapons that he knew that he would be at the opposite side of. He did not even notice that his father's voice trailed off.

"Dad…"

"Yeah, Danny-Boy?"

"…. you… love me, right?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course I love ya! You, Jazzy-Bear and Maddie!" Jack placed down his own fishing rod to turn his body to face his son. He could see Danny folded into himself, still wearing that hoodie of his. The sight made his stomach churn. "No matter what. No matter what you do. No matter what. I will always love you, being proud of you and always, know that!"

Danny looked away, his bottom lip wobbled as he tried to take in his words. He nearly flinched when he felt something touch his head.

"Danny… is everything alright? I know I haven't been present in yours and Jazz's lives… but your mother and I are here for you two. I am here for you." Jack attempted to talk with his son. Moving his hand away but just enough to give his son enough room for himself. "I know you've been doing your best to be perfect and good."

Danny's head snapped over to him, eyes wide and mouth agape as he attempted to come up with an excuse.

Jack raised a hand to stop him. "I did the same thing when I was your age… and I'm going to tell you what I wished my own father had told me… You don't have to be perfect. You don't have to be good all the time. You don't need to earn our approval. We love you and have already earned our approval! Whatever you want to do with your life, it's your choice! Don't feel like you have to be a certain way to get our approval."

"Do you promise not to get mad?"

Do you promise to not get mad?

"What have I done?"

I killed my own son... This is all my fault.

Tag List:

@littlebugg13

@persephonedevoted

@inkblotalchemist

If you wish to be tagged, please head over to this post. It'll be easier for me to track it there.

D/C: This is a Good Parent Fentons fic. I like suspense and introspective that has one seeing what the character is thinking.

#apology fudge #Dc x DP #danny phantom #jack fenton #fanfic #dcxdp #Chapter 1

[hotmessmaxpress]

i need Vale‘s pov of picking up Marc from Pesaro, because Marc wasn’t the only one worried, vale definitely was down bad just as much. The man of his dreams, who he almost lost before, is coming over to visit him. To meet him the first time as the person he really is. What if he only liked Vale for his money? Or if it just was some kind of hero worship? Valentino may have parked horribly, but that man was nervous, give him a break

Thank you for waiting so patiently, anon.

Here's another Vale's POV interlude, this time of Vale being Down Bad at the train station.

You should come. 

To Tavullia. Come ride with me.

When Vale invited Marc to Tavullia to come ride with him, he hadn’t really been thinking. He knew he wanted to see Marc, so he invited him without thought of the consequences or how he would explain things to his family, friends, and staff. He’s too excited to take back the invitation, though, so as soon as Marc agrees Vale throws himself into planning. 

He carves out a long weekend that he’s sure he can block off, and he starts firing off messages to all the normal visitors to the ranch and his home that he will be busy those days. Uccio is noticeably suspicious, so Valentino gives up and explains that Marc is visiting. 

Uccio isn’t pleased, but they’ve known each other long enough at this point that Uccio knows when he’s lost a battle and he doesn’t push back too much. Vale makes him promise not to show up, and threatens that the other man may see something he doesn’t want to if he shows up. Even with the threat Vale isn’t convinced Uccio won’t try something, but he’s at least confident that if he does turn up it won’t be a huge argument. Vale can survive a little awkwardness if it means having Marc by his side, finally.

They negotiate travel plans and Vale pays for everything. He was tempted to completely throw out Marc’s itinerary and send a private jet for him, but he forces himself to play it cool at least a little bit. There’s still part of him, lurking in the back of his mind, that thinks Marc could be using him. He hopes that when he meets Marc in person the fear and anxiety will dissipate. 

Allowing Marc to fly commercial doesn’t stop Vale from obsessively checking the timing of Marc’s flight, though. He stays attached to his phone throughout Marc’s travel day, ears open and listening for the notification that Marc has landed.

As soon as Marc lands, Valentino is in his car and off to the train station. He knows he’ll have to wait, and that he’s going to arrive far too early, but he can’t help it. He’s far too restless and excited to continue sitting around. 

He’s in the car when the message pops up that Marc is on the train, and he forces himself to slow down. Driving faster won’t make Marc’s train move faster. 

It is late enough at night that Vale has no qualms about parking right up front. He pulls haphazardly into an empty taxi space, and tries not to count the minutes until Marc’s train will pull into the station. He tries to talk himself down from being nervous, but now that he’s seated in his car with only music for company, a thousand thoughts run through his brain. This may be the moment that he finds out that Marc really does only want him for his money. Where will he be then? He knows Uccio won’t say “I told you so,” because he won’t have to. Vale will hate himself if things go wrong with Marc.

He desperately wants the younger man to be genuine. He wants his feelings for Marc to be reciprocated and warranted. He wants the chemistry that they have online to be true in real life.

He also can’t wait to touch Marc. A bitter part of him whispers that if Marc is using him for his money, at least he’ll get to have the weekend with him. 

The minutes tick down as Vale nervously spirals, turning his music up to try and drown out the thoughts of insecurity. 

When Marc walks out the station doors, Vale can’t help but climb out of the car to greet him. He’s not exactly keeping it cool, but Marc is simply too beautiful. Vale is drawn to him like a moth to flame and he wraps Marc in his arms. 

Marc is small. He’s tiny in Vale’s arms, but Vale can feel the solid muscle beneath the warm hoodie he traveled in. His mouth waters as he pictures the hard muscle and tanned skin he knows is underneath the sweatshirt. 

He forces himself to let go of Marc, who is positively beaming at him. It’s overwhelming, seeing that enthusiasm and joy in person. It’s even more overwhelming to know it’s directed at him. All at once Vale’s thoughts that Marc might be using him disappear. There’s no way the joy in his smile could be hiding an ulterior motive. There's no way any person, no matter how talented at acting, could fake such genuine happiness. It nearly brings Vale to his knees.

When they climb in the car, Marc asks him why he wasn’t afraid of people photographing them. Vale, after all, had stood publicly in front of a train station and held Marc in his arms. 

Vale is stunned into silence for a second. It hadn’t even occurred to him that he should probably try and keep some semblance of privacy when picking Marc up. He tries to shrug and play it cool. 

“It’s late at night. People will leave us alone.”

He hopes that is true and he hopes Marc buys his explanation. 

The tension in the air is thick, and Vale considers pulling off the road to drag Marc into his lap and ravish him. Every time he glances at Marc, beautiful, joyful Marc, it’s all he can think about. By the time he pulls the car through the gate and up toward the house nearly half an hour later, he thanks every god in existence that he managed to get them home without crashing. 

Vale promises Marc a tour and some riding in the morning, before carrying Marc’s bag into the house. 

They barely make it inside the house before they’re on each other. Vale drops Marc’s things unceremoniously somewhere near the door, and then his arms are full of the small Spanish man. Marc is positively sinful, moaning into Vale’s mouth as he slides his hands underneath Marc’s shirt. 

Marc is so satisfying to hold, and Vale promises himself he’ll take the entire weekend to fully map Marc’s body. He has a sickening moment of hoping Marc will let him have this forever; that Marc won’t want to leave him once he is bored of having sex with his hero. 

Vale guides an enthusiastic Marc toward his bedroom, and his heart nearly stops when Marc freezes in the doorway. For a moment, Vale thinks Marc has gotten cold feet and is going to turn around and insist he be driven back to the train station. 

“You really do have a bike in here,” Marc says, awed. “You won a championship on this.”

The wide-eyed look on Marc’s face goes straight to Vale’s cock.

“Sit on it,” he says, hungry at the thought of seeing the younger man on his bike. He has fantasized about this hundreds of times, and as Marc settles onto the seat Vale thinks he might burst into flames at the sight. 

They’re both hard, and Marc climbs back off the bike as Vale grabs the smaller man and manhandles him onto the bed. 

He’s wanted this for so long, and as he strips both of them of their clothes and gets his hands and mouth on Marc, he knows without a doubt  that he’ll do whatever he needs to do to keep this forever.

#onlyfans au #rosquez #valentino rossi #vr46 #mm93

[writingcold]

Hello!  Welcome to Chapter 6 of CD&FE.  

Pairing: Jake X Female Reader 

Summary: This is an AU that starts with the release of GVF’s first EP, Black Smoke Rising, and follows along life paths over the course of twenty plus years.  So…  It’s just messy.  Fortunately, it’s also kind of a shorty as far as length goes.     

Content warnings: Uncomfortable moments in adult relationships, but smut free.  

Word Count: approx. 4.4K 

I am so thankful for @edgingthedarkness and @takenbythemadness.  But you all better know that by now, but I’ve said it with every damn posting how brilliant they are. 

CD&FE, Part 6.1: Her POV 

      To say that I had gotten comfortable in my relationship with Frankie was an understatement.  I felt like we were flourishing.  I began to slowly migrate from my office into our home, working one and two days a week away from the office.  No one died.  No projects failed.  Fancy that.  I was able to distance myself and yet still get the job done.  Life was good.  I couldn’t lie about that.

      I had gotten a call from my friend Maurice Flanders from Chicago who owned several galleries.  I had been handling his accounts for years, but he reached out on this one in particular as it would be a rushed job.  He had a show fall through, but found an up and coming artist that had agreed to a limited run on short notice.  Of course, I’d never leave him in a bind and agreed to step in right away to handle the advertising for the event, and all of the main graphic needs for the opening night.  I didn’t think of the person until well after I had hung up and a few days had gone by.  The featured artist would be Clara.  His Clara.

       Echoes of times and interludes with Jake haunted me from time to time.  Stray thoughts lingered longer than they should have.  Bits and fragments of dreams would wash a tide across me when I felt weak.  Always at my fringe, I could feel Jake’s presence.  I could be dicing up vegetables for dinner, or have a song coming on across my feed, or hell, sitting and talking with friends, and all of the emotions of loss of him would come roaring back only to stop short and fizzle out.  I supposed that was because it ended how it did.  This lingering uncertainty of ‘maybe’.  I felt like a corner of me longed for him still.  

     We were two weeks from the event when Maurice called me personally to check in and to invite me down - after all, it had been ages since we had been together in person.  I knew there would be many current clients in attendance.  It would be smart for me to be there.  Frank was willing to take the weekend trip, so it was a go.  Although, part of me was hesitant.  Would Jake be there?  How was I going to handle seeing him - in person after all this time?

     We flew down a few days early to take in the museums and the jazz and blues scene of the city.  Frank kept his distance when I needed to work, but he was more than happy to entertain himself.  The opening was Saturday night and we were ready to go.  It wasn’t like we had to be glamorous, but to say my man looked hot as sin would not be lying.  He held me close as we approached the gallery.  My stomach did a little flop as I realized that I was looking right at Clara when we walked in before the actual opening.  Maurice was lovely, wrapping me up and welcoming us in.  

     I silently sloshed through emotions whilst keeping my professional appearance while weaving through the introduction to Clara.  She gushed over our work - impressed that it was all completed on such a short timeline but so beautifully.  She walked me and Frankie around showing us some of her more recent works.  All of my internal organs were twisting with fury as I caught glimpses of love and Jake and their time together.  I held tight to Frank’s hand, but all the while, my brain was conjuring venom towards the very unaware Clara.  

     My eyes were darting around when the doors officially opened.  He was nowhere to be found.  I picked out Jake’s parents right away.  They were fawning over Clara, but their son was completely absent.  I could see the glint of frustration in the woman’s eyes as they were talking.  I dug myself deeper into the gallery.  It wasn’t like any of that scene was my business.  

     I spent the better part of two hours connecting with clients and meeting potential new ones.  Frank was my stalwart spirit, smiling and looking incredibly handsome.  He seemed totally relaxed in his easy self that just seemed to draw people in instantly.  Our last forty minutes was spent with Maurice in a cozy corner going over new contacts that he wanted to share for our valiant effort and success together.  

     As we started to say our goodbyes, I took note that Jake still was not in attendance.  My heart squeezed a bit.  I’m unsure if it was because he was not in attendance, or if there was a personal issue that was lingering behind the pretty woman’s smile.  A small portrait towards the front caught my eyes and held it as we meandered towards the door.  It was Jake, but his face was down, the brim of a hat covering most of his features.  I felt removed.  I had no right feeling this way, but my whole focus seemed to be parked on a man that I had not physically seen in six years.  Six.  And he still commanded my thoughts like we had just parted the day before.

     The rest of summer rolled through quietly.  Frank had been gone a few weeks due to conferences, to which I took advantage to catch up with friends.  Patrick and Sidney took most of that time, but I so enjoyed our time together.  In October, I found myself in Paris, accompanying Frank for one of his academic conferences.  While he was buried in work, I was gracing the balcony of a beautiful little room, sipping coffee and soaking in the ancient city around me.  Our evenings were our own.  We walked everywhere until we couldn’t walk any more.  We laughed over food and cried over art.  I wanted more time.  Always more time, but life was calling us back.

     By December, I had somehow discovered that the bulk of my work week was spent in my pjs in my home office.  And I didn’t feel bad about it.  Christmas brought around news I didn’t expect.

     “You’re procreating?”  I asked, unable to hide the shrill note in my tone.

     Patrick and Sid were sitting with huge smiles before me.  “Aunt Y/n has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”  Pat said finally, letting me fully digest the moment.

     It was unreal to think that my oldest friend was going to be a father.  But they were happy.  Beyond it, actually.   The babies would arrive in the summer - fraternal twins no less.  I was secretly planning on buying every obnoxiously loud, bright, annoying toy possible to fill their lives with such joy.  Pat deserved a little more chaos in his life, right?

     Spring arrived with a definite bang.  We seemed to go from ice and wind and ten foot high drifts of snow to green overnight.  I had come home from a client dinner party to find the apartment quiet.  I went to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water, discovering that Frankie was out on the deck.  The faint glow of a cigarette rested between his fingers, while a glass was nestled into the palm of his other hand.  It was an odd sight.  Frank didn’t smoke unless his mind was troubled.

     I walked out onto the deck and wrapped my arms around his waist.  He was quick to crush the smoke, but I had seen it was not just the one he had imbibed in.  He had been outside for quite some time.

     “How was your meeting?”  he asked as he turned to welcome me proper.

     “Good.  I would say we landed another solid client.”  I allowed myself to be wrapped up in his dense frame and scent.  There was an air of removal that I did not understand.  “Something must have happened, huh?  Tough day?”

     He hummed as he let me go.  “Actually, something that I wasn’t expecting came up.”

     I frowned when he paused.  His whole aura seemed shifted.  He was holding back.  I frowned all the more as he lit another cigarette and leaned away from me.  My gut blazed with a stab of anxiety.  I was left wishing I would’ve poured something harder than the water.

     “I’ve been invited to teach in Paris,”  he said, his voice void of what made him sound like himself.  It was weird.  

     I could see that he was happy about it, but he wasn’t allowing himself to be.  I must’ve flashed an expression that he didn’t like.  He turned away from me, with his face turned to the sky.  “Are you not happy about this?”

     “I am actually really fucking happy about it,”  he muttered, his voice full of an edge.

     “But-”

     He let out a long stream of smoke after lighting up another cigarette.  “I’ve been out here for hours trying to guess how you would answer my question if I asked you to come with me.  However, I think I already have my answer.”

     “That’s not fair,”  I whispered.

     “Would you go?”

     It was like I was going a hundred miles an hour and someone just threw my ass into park without the benefit of hitting the breaks.  My insides felt like they were liquefying as he seemed to fight himself from looking at me.  I knew what he was asking.  I had heard this question in a different, unspoken form before.  And the answer was the same.

     “Frank,”  I hiccuped.  

     “It’s all right.  I get it,”  he said, voice hushed.  “I need some time out here.  Alone.  Please.”

     My jaw softened as I felt all those liquid guts swirl just under my skin.  I felt like I was going to throw up as I pushed my way back into the apartment.  My legs were declaring a mutiny as I tried to climb the stairs.  I found myself melting onto the fourth step.  I was in a ball while the man I had made a life with for the better part of six years was hurt outside.  

      I went to bed alone and I woke up alone.  Frank was not in the apartment when I padded down the stairs.  The knot that had strangled my innards the night before was limp from bleeding out.  I was too tired to search for a note.  I was sure eventually, we’d discuss the situation.  I wanted to say I’d go with him.  I wanted to say that I would be able to leave my work behind.  But in truth - I just couldn’t.  

      I sat curled on the couch, waiting for him to come home.  I saw a text from Pat, but I couldn’t find it in me to pay attention beyond who it was from.  The parallel was not lost on me as I looked around my home - our home.  It was true that I was slowly creating distance from my work, but by street blocks only.  To completely leave it behind?  Wasn’t that what he was silently asking of me?  

      It wasn’t until early evening that Frank returned.  He looked hollow as he set his keys down on the table.  I felt gutted as he sat down next to me.  I threaded my fingers into his, but made no move closer to him.  It was like a division was already between us.  It hurt to breathe the same air, let alone be in the same space.

      “I can’t say ‘no’ to this, Y/n,”  he said quietly.  “I refuse to be that guy to tell you to quit your job.  I just don’t know where that leaves us.”

      I tucked my chin to my chest.  All the love, all the life was slipping away like a threadbare scarf.  I hated this.  It wasn’t supposed to be this way.  And yet, I couldn’t force my mouth to wrap around the words that I needed to speak.

      “Distance doesn’t work for me,”  he whispered.  “I’m a jealous man, if I was being honest.”

      “And if I’m not ready-”  My words dried up in my throat, crackling like brittle paper.

      “I’m not ready, either,”  he replied, tightening his hold on my hand.  “Could you leave your company behind?  Honest.  As honest as you can be.”

      No matter how much I wanted to say ‘yes, I can leave’, I just knew it was wrong.  I looked at him as my eyes filled and spilled across my cheeks.  I shook my head ‘no’ as my throat refused to function through the emotions.

      “Didn’t think so,”  he whispered.

      I fell into him as I couldn’t hold back my tears.  He made no move to hide his own.  We mourned together.  We found comfort in each other’s touch.  It was like we knew it was the end.  

CD&FE, part 6.2: Jake’s POV

     “It’s been coming for a while, Jake,”  Clara said, after I finally got her to sit down at the dining room table.

      “Really?  I thought everything was just fine,”  I said, not trying to hide the bitterness from my tone.

      She puffed out her cheeks with a hard breath.  “Come on.  Surely you don’t think everything has been all right?”

      “Enlighten me.”

      I was mad.  I was mad more at myself.  She did not seem to really want to answer.  But that was Clara.  I wanted to know.  I wanted honesty.  She wanted to hide from conflict.  If she wanted out, I was not going to stop her, however I needed to know what the hell I did wrong.

     “Chicago wasn’t my only show you missed,”  she said quietly.  She shook her head.  “No.  I shouldn’t say it that way.  It was my choice to be on tour with you.  I loved traveling with you.”

      “But.”

      She squirmed in her seat.  I did not like making her feel uncomfortable, but I felt like I could at least understand.  “I turned down two galleries this past year because they conflicted with the tour.  I turned down working with others last year because they conflicted with the tour.  When Chicago came around, and I saw it fit between shows, I thought maybe you would see my passion was as strong as yours.  Perhaps it would be a way for you to see that I was as good-”

      “Fuck,”  I whispered against the anger that flooded my system.  “You can’t put that on me.  Just because you chose not to take an opportunity…?”

      Clara slapped the table and jumped from her chair.  I followed her as she fled to the bedroom.  This was her pattern.  Run.  Run from any kind of conflict and let it fester until it was a hundred more times hurtful as it became a torrent flooding out of her.

      “Talk to me!  How can you think I felt your work was ‘not good’?  I’m just as excited as you are that this is getting somewhere for you,”  I said, fighting to keep my tone from hitting a harsh line.  

      “Really?  Could’ve fooled me,”  she grumbled, coming to a stop.  “I have followed you around this planet with you for years, Jake.  On tour, you take no notice of how I struggle to keep up.  I need more time in these spaces.  I need more time to create.  But it’s like you have blinders on and it’s always only about the tour.  Only about your work and never about anyone else.”

      “It’s kind of what I do.  My job.  I can’t apologize for working to keep us to the level that we are.  Many people depend on me, on us, to live on.  It’s more than just about me.  If I don’t do a good job, if we aren’t out there, families are affected.”

      She rolled her eyes.  “And you don’t really think about the effects on your own family.”

      “We’re all working our asses off-”

      “I wasn’t talking about your brothers, Jake!  Me!  Your family that you won’t marry?”

      I stopped moving.  Clara threw her hands up out of frustration and proceeded to stomp back into the bedroom.  A tiny fraction of me did not want to pursue the argument.  It whispered to let it go.  Let her go.  

      “That can’t be it,”  I found myself saying out loud.  She scoffed as I walked into the bedroom after her.  

      “What - a commitment?  I’m fucking human, Jake.”

      I felt my brows pinch as I watched her wrestle her bags from the bed only to grab another empty suitcase and fling it open.  “I-”

      “I want it.  I have wanted all of this.  All of you.  Don’t you see that?”

      The corners of my mouth turned down.  She was throwing her clothes into the case without consideration.  It was then I realized that her ring was gone.  That little whisper was rising in volume, but still not sharp enough for me to listen.

      “What I see is someone who doesn’t trust me enough to let me go on tour without her,”  I said, unable to really recognize the flatness of my own voice.

      The laugh that slithered from her mouth made me cringe.  “Trust?  Fuck yeah, I don’t trust you.  I see how others are out there.  Leaving their wives at home so they can fuck anyone that comes across their plate!  Fuck that.”

       “That’s not me,”  I whispered.  “You’d know that if you gave me the chance.”

       She started to say something but stopped.  She dropped the clothes from her hands and took a step back.  “Still doesn’t change the fact that you do not want to marry me.”

       I nodded.  She was right.  I may have at one point thought that marriage in my profession was impossible, but that wasn’t totally it.  I believed if I made a commitment, I didn’t need anyone else’s approval, a little paper, or any other archaic belief to say that I am with someone.  That voice had gone from a whisper, to nearly a full voice, was now shouting at me.  

      “I’m sorry you thought you had to live around me,”  I said, retreating back to the doorway.  “That was never the case.”

      “It was always the case, whether you realized it or not.  I was given a schedule and felt like I had to live by it.  I put myself in that schedule where I could.”

      “That was your lack of faith in me, Clara.  That’s not something I can fix.”

      I walked away, allowing her to finish collecting her things.  So much of this house was her.  So much of the life within it was her.  Was I sad about it?  Yeah.  It hurt like a fucking punch to my chest.  But it was done.  

     I poured myself a whiskey and wandered out to the patio with my phone in hand.  I called Josh, only to be sent to voicemail.  Dick.  I called Mom, but then forgot the folks were on a flight home.  My brain was formulating plans.  I listened to the rambling playing of the neighbor kids and the distant practice of someone on a piano.  I must’ve been out there no more than an hour before I heard Clara behind me.

      “I called an Uber.  I’ll stay with my friends for a few weeks to figure this out.”  

      Her voice was void of warmth.  There was nothing to figure out.  It was just done.  

      “I leave on Monday,”  I replied, looking up at her.  “I’ll be gone for two weeks.  If you want, you can clear out while I’m gone.”

      “Wow,”  she sighed.  “I say done and you mean it.  Kinda cold, Jake.”

      I shook my head.  “I cannot be with someone who has no faith in me, and cannot trust me.  I will not be with someone who thinks so little of my commitment.  You shouldn’t want to be with me if I make you live by my schedule.  Or think that I am holding you from what you love.  Those are some pretty big stopping points.”

      She sighed.  “I suppose you are right.”

      I heard her leave, but did not watch.  I reached for my phone and began an attempt to text my twin, but he was strangely radio silent.  I realized in the silence, that I had not gone to actually see Clara’s showing postings.  For that I was a real prick.  I opened up the socials and got to her professional page.  She looked happy in the first picture - she stood in the middle of the small gallery with her works all around her.  I scrolled through the pictures slowly, taking in each shot of the paintings I knew well.  Each one seemed to look different under the lighting, but they were all here.  

      I stormed through the first dozen or so before I stopped.  At the edge of the frame was a familiar face.  Y/n was standing with a small group, all wrapped up in her professional armor and disarming smile.  I frowned for a moment.  I started scrolling down and looking at the actual description and noticed a small ‘thank you’ note that included the owner of the gallery, the management team and…  oh hell.  Y/n had personally taken care of all the advertising and graphics within the gallery.  I went back to the picture and stared.  It was like all the hurt, all the guilt was paused.

      I wondered if she knew who Clara was.  I wondered if she was aware of our connection.  Surely she had seen my post about Clara.  Oh… fuck.  Did Clara know?  Surely not.  A knot of anxiety twisted through my chest forcing me to stand up and fly into the house, phone clutched tightly in my palm.  I was spooked.  I was realizing that the last day was beginning to filter through.  The final moments especially - I hadn’t even said goodbye.  Who does that?  

      I decided to give her the space she asked for, going out on the next stretch before reaching back out to her.  When I returned home, it was an empty house.  She had taken all of her things, her artwork, the pieces that she had wanted to be in our shared space.  I texted her that I was back, knowing that the last part was to get the keys.  I made a nice dinner of all her favorites, along with her choice of wine.  I had flowers delivered that reminded me of our time in Rome a few years back.  It wasn’t meant to be romantic, but I’m sure that was what it looked like when I finished getting everything ready.

      She smiled when I invited her inside.  Her eyes latched onto the table and started to shake her head with excuses to leave.

      “Just come and talk with me.”

      I took her purse and set it to the side as she reluctantly walked past me.  “Jake, I’m not sure if this is a good idea.”

      “Just talk,”  I promised, waving her towards the table.  

      I poured a glass of wine while she sat down.  I took a drink of my beer before pulling serving dishes out of the warming oven.  I plated up and joined her.

     “I know I’m springing this on you, but,”  I started, setting down her food before her, “I just thought it would make this a little easier.”

      “Thank you,”  she said quietly.  “It looks delicious.”

      We picked at our food, and it was silent.  It was not what I was hoping for in the slightest, but it was a start.

      “Have you been staying with Grace and Tucker?”  I asked, hoping to break the ice.

      “I haven’t left Nashville, if that’s what you’re searching for, Jake,”  she answered.

      I ate the hard tone and tried to let it go.  Sitting back in my chair, I wiped the corners of my mouth.  “I’m not looking for a fight, Clara.”

      “Then what is all of this?  A grand send off?”

      I rolled my eyes.  “If that’s what you want to call it, fine.  I just want to part as friends.  We were such good friends towards each other - why leave it with all that hurt out there?”

      “Pretty one sided friends, if you ask me.”

      My eyes rolled closed.  I sucked in a long, slow breath.  “I saw the pictures from Chicago - on your socials.  Mom shared a few more as well.  No matter how you think of me, I am proud of you.  It was wrong of me to miss it.”

      She set her glass down and finally made eye contact.  “Why didn’t you want to be there?”

     “Who said I didn’t want to be there? I made every attempt to get there.  I won’t be an ass and blame the weather, but…  I really am sorry I missed it,”  I replied honestly.  “You know how I am when we’re out there.  If I don’t focus on what I’m supposed to be doing-”

      “You were supposed to buy that ticket and be with me.” 

      I frowned.  “And I am upset with myself over it, Clara.”

      “Sure you are.”

      “Of course I am.  It was my mistake, but it showed us that you are to move in this other direction,”  I said, tapping my fingers on the table softly.  “I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to follow me, Clara.  It was never my intent to keep you from your art.”

       She flashed a sad little smile.  “I didn’t mean to make it sound like I didn’t trust you.  I was scared.  I saw what happens out there.  It’s not pretty.”

       “It’s very easy to get caught up,”  I admitted, keeping my voice level.  “It hurt that you wouldn’t allow me to try, at least.  At least prove that I could be faithful to us.  There are more on the road that can be faithful than not.”

       She nodded.  “I’m not sorry for our time together, Jake.”

       “Neither am I,”  I whispered as she touched my hand.

       Closure.  It was not stomping away in anger.  It was not lighting my days on fire just to show her what kind of man I could be.  It was quiet and reverent of our time together.  I hugged her goodbye and it felt good to watch her walk away knowing that she was going to be just fine without me.  What more, I knew I was going to be just fine without her.

So, I’m unsure if I want to break our final part, part 7, into the three postings, with a fourth posting for the epilogue, or to post 7.1 with 7.2, and have 7.3 with the epilogue.  🤔  I’m leaning towards having two more posts after today’s, instead of four. 

I’ve had quite a few new people join the taglist.  However, if you are one of those who do not participate and post, it’s hard to tag you.  I’m sorry.  I’ve tried, but tagging in posts is shoddy as it is, so if you are not getting the notification that I’ve posted, but you’re on the taglist?  It’s just the world that our tumblr is.  I’m trying though - I’m trying to get these tags to work!  Promise

I do have a tag list here, or you can just let me know in a reply to add you. 

@lvnterninthenight @doodle417 @luverleaver @jakesgrapejuice @fictional-duchess @milkgemini @positivegvfthings @songbirds-sweet @gretavanbitches @gardensgatedaisy @babyhoneygvfarchive @myownparadise96 @josh-iamyour-mama @starcatcherc @loveisonaroll @jakesstarlight @reesetrippingthelight @builtby-gvf @ignite-my-fire @wetkleenex-gvf @gold-mines-melting @starsasone @mysticalstarcatcher @montenegroisr @takenbythemadness @way-to-go-lad @cal-a-bungaa @thewritingbeforesunrise @leftjudgeempathsuitcase @brokenbells11 @imborrowedshesblue @vanfleeter

#jake gvf #jake kiszka #greta van fleet #gvf #cd&fe #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fanfiction #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fan fiction #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet AU #jake kiszka AU

[ivystoryweaver]

Decadent chapter 11

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Summary: Real communication can feel better than anything

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara from the film Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse x female reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: cursing, talking about blood consumption and stuff, not beta'd

PREVIOUSLY on Decadent...

Your heart fluttered as he possessively pulled you on top of his chest. Your cheek rested against the solid warmth of him as his muscled arms wrapped you up like a treasure.

"My girl," he sleepily mumbled, lazily running his hands over the curves of your body. "Love you."

Miguel fell asleep.

You stayed awake the rest of the night....

Dawn was breaking before your heavy eyelids began to drift closed.

Miguel had slept soundly the entire night, touching you in some form or fashion. You spent the first hour on his chest, soothed and thrilled by the steady thump pulsing underneath his massive chest.

Your arm lost all circulation, so you rolled off him, hoping not to disturb him. He was out cold, poor thing.

You were reeling. He...loved you? Would he even remember saying that in the morning?

And worse, Miguel was not doing so well. You were truly becoming desperately worried for his physical health. You couldn't fathom the strength of will and character it took for him not to bite your throat last night during your passionate interlude.

You curled up against his side, tracing your fingertips over the length of his arm, grateful to be some sort of solace for him. But there was no peace for you this night.

The next morning, he was gone. So typical.

He did, however, leave you a note. Which was lovely, actually, since he was a 'wait and see you at work' or 'maybe send a text' type of guy.

Thank you for letting me stay. I'm not feeling too well. Going home to sleep. See you at work Monday. Don't worry, I'm just tired. You were so beautiful last night. Can't wait to see you again.

Well. That was something.

So he couldn't wait to see you, but he wanted to wait til Monday at work? Today was Saturday. What in the world was he always doing on the weekends? Maybe Spider-Man-ing. You weren't entirely sure, honestly.

Maybe you could find the courage to call or text him - just to check on him. You should try to wait until tonight at least. But waiting until Monday to see him felt like absolute torture.

Whatever. No games. You made it until late afternoon in case he was sound asleep and then you texted.

'Got your note. It was sweet. I hope you feel better. Please call or come over if you need to. I'm here.'

He texted right back.

'I know you're there. My guardian angel. I was just thinking of you. I'm making empanadas.'

You huffed and fired back.

'Without me? Thannnnks, Mig.'

'Sorry, I should have said - I was making empanadas, but then I felt sick, so I stopped. But when I'm feeling better, you'll have to come over again.'

You didn't know what to say to that. He was sick? Like, really sick? Or lack-of-blood sick? Ughhh.

'I'm so worried about you. Are you sure you don't want me to come over anyway?'

He took a few minutes to answer this time, which was not reassuring.

'I don't want to hurt you.'

You swallowed hard as your eyes moistened with the beginning of tears.

'You didn't hurt me last night.'

He didn't answer for a while. Which did hurt.

But later that night, he did reply to you again.

'I feel asleep earlier. Sorry. I want to talk to you in person, but I'll be out of town tomorrow. But I promise we'll talk on Monday, okay?'

You texted back that it was fine. It felt awful. You wanted to see him. He said he loved you! Wasn't he going to mention that? Didn't he want to see you again?

You decided to stick to your don't-obsess-over-Miguel plan. You called your aunt, cooked some meals for the week, and had an impromptu hang with your neighbor/friend Gwen. You had a glass of wine and a bath Sunday evening and on Monday morning, you dressed to kill.

Miguel was waiting for you in your office, which sent a thrill of anticipation fizzing through your body.

Then you remembered what happened the last time you had sex. He promoted you, kicked you out of his office and "dumped" you.

"Hey," he breathed, pushing off your desk, where he had been leaning, scrolling through his phone. "Look at you." His scarlet eyes flashed appreciatively, tracing over the length of your body. He looked absolutely delicious as always. Today he was dressed in all black, but he did appear to be a little tired, despite how well he usually wore dark colors.

Stepping closer, he reached out for you, pulling you into his arms and brushing his thumb across your cheek before lowering his mouth to yours.

You gasped out in surprise, your knees going weak for a moment, which made him smile against your lips as he tasted them one at a time.

Your brain was slow to catch up - he had really managed to surprise you. But finally, you dropped your bag to the floor beside you and slid your hands over the breadth of his chest to link behind his neck.

He kissed you sweetly...adoringly. Without agenda. It was a kiss of relief, as if you were being cherished, rather than seduced. You melted into him, happy to allow him to wrap you up and pull you off your feet.

His warm breath mingled with yours and you felt him smile again.

"Good morning," he whispered. "I missed you."

It struck you then, that this wasn't a co-worker greeting (obviously) or a friends-with-benefits greeting. This was different. Miguel had never done this - not without it leading to clothes flying.

You rubbed your nose against his affectionately, feeling very much like a girlfriend suspended in his arms, tiptoes barely touching the ground.

"I missed you too," you admitted between soft kisses.

He finally set you down but didn't release you from his possessive hold. "Sorry I was gone yesterday. I wanted to see you. I hope it's okay that I just barged in here."

You chuckled as he finally let go of you. "It's your company. I don't think you need my permission to come into my office. I'm just glad it was for a good reason."

You eyed him warily. "You are in here for a good reason, right? I'm not being promoted to another wing of the building and banned from the lab?"

His dark eyebrows shifted almost comedically. "Banned? What are you talking about? Why would I do that?"

You should probably tread carefully, but...when had you ever?

Reaching for you bag, you grabbed it and moved around your desk to start getting organized for your day (and to give you a little space to say these things to him).

"That's what happened last time," you explained. But he still looked confused. "You know - the last time we slept together. You sort of dumped me, promoted me, gave me my own office, all while kind of insulting my work ethic and dedication? It was pretty confusing."

He slowly nodded, sliding his hands into his dress pants pockets. "Yeah. I can see that. Not my finest moment. The promotion was real though."

"Thanks?" You somewhat sarcastically replied. "Anyway," you went on, waving your hand dismissively, "When I saw you in here this morning, after what happened between us at the gala Friday night, I was sort of afraid of...another promotion."

His eyes narrowed in confusion as he took your words literally for a moment. Then you saw his expression shift as he began to understand. "You thought...no. No, I just wanted to see you, I promise."

He made his way around your desk and took hold of your arms. "I was waiting for you because, after what happened between us Friday, I was hoping..." He trailed off, scarlet eyes shifting uncertainly

"What, Miguel? What are you hoping?" You gently prodded, starting to truly believe that maybe the two of you could have a chance together. You traced your fingertips over his jawline.

Wetting his lips, he took your hand in his, tenderly caressing your fingers. "I don't deserve you. But...after the gala, I thought maybe..." He shook his head, trying to figure out how to say what he felt.

"I missed you so much and...the only time I don't feel like I'm going insane with hunger is when I'm safe with you."

You gasped out, your eyes shining with wonder.

"I know it doesn't make sense because...well, because I'm afraid I'm going to hurt you," he tried to explain. "And...I could, if I'm not careful. I really could. But it's like you're my darkest temptation. And also my greatest peace. I'm not sure what to do about that. But I can't lose you. That's the one thing I know."

You squeezed his hands right back, feeling at least somewhat reassured. "You're not going to lose me. Just don't push me away, okay?"

Miguel wasn't kidding about not feeling well. Once the two of you spent about an hour in the lab, you noticed him missing details - obvious things. He misspoke a few times, misplaced a few items and finally, just before lunch, looked like his gigantic body was about to hit the ground.

Okay, enough.

Once the other staff and personnel cleared out for a lunch break, you asked Miguel to speak privately in his office.

He sat down on the edge of his desk with his head in his hands. You stood in front of him, reaching to rub his temples with your fingertips.

"Talk to me," you softly implored. "You're scaring me."

He nodded, exhaling shakily. "Just hungry, I think. This is the worst it's ever been."

"Miguel, look at me," you directed, gently tipping his chin up so you could peer into his eyes. "This can't go on. You need some blood. You can't even function. Not in any working capacity anyway."

He shook his head adamantly. "No...I'm not going to do that to you. I told you."

"Baby, I'm not talking about biting me or hurting me - hey, look at me.” He tried to shrug you off but you pushed him back down to his spot on the desk’s edge. Even in his weakened state, he could probably overpower you, but you had to try.

"Listen...I'm standing here, in my lab coat. We're in a professional environment," you explained. "I'm not trying to tempt you here. This has nothing to do with me. Miguel, look at me, please."

He reluctantly lifted his gaze to meet yours. He looked so exhausted and broken and your heart burned with love and concern for him.

"You're a brilliant man. A scientist. A geneticist. This is science," you insisted. "You need blood to survive. You're going to get sick and maybe even die without it - "

"Not if we figure out how - "

"No! I am speaking," you fired back, silencing him with your tone and your determined glare. "I am your research partner right now - a position you promoted me to because you trust my opinions and agree with my conclusions.

"Right now, I'm not someone you come to when you need a fix or a fuck or just some comfort. I have been all of those things at one point, but I am your equal, so you have got to listen to me."

You had his attention now. Good.

"You need blood. It's not negotiable. We can do it today, right now, in the lab, clinically. It doesn't have to happen with sex, or...out on the street. No one has to die. We can draw blood and you can drink it out of a test tube or a bag or a beaker - I don't really care," You reasoned. "You don't have to bite anyone or hurt anyone. It doesn't even have to be my blood! But you have got to feed."

His head dropped in defeat.

"Miguel, tell me you understand," you insisted, reaching for his hands. “I know the blood bags don’t work as well for you, but maybe, if it’s fresh blood…”

When he peered back up at you from his stool, his crimson eyes were wet with tears. "I've gone so long without blood. I've tried so hard... Everything just hurts so fucking much, all the time. I don't even know what I'm doing anymore. I can’t concentrate. I can't think, or eat. All I do is sleep.”

"I know, baby," you nodded, pulling him into your arms. You were almost the same height with you standing in front of him like this. "It doesn't make you weak. It's not like an addiction. This is your sustenance."

"I don't want to," he weakly protested, his forehead resting against your chest. "You can't understand how much I don't want to."

"I know, but this is reality. You could die - do you understand that?"

Easing back, you grasped his shoulders, gazing at him intently. His expression was so broken, but enough was enough.

"You told me you feel safe with me...that you can't lose me, right? You just told me that in my office," you reminded him.

He reluctantly nodded, eyes full of despair.

"Do you honestly think I can lose you either? Do you have any idea what that would do to me?" You brushed your fingers through the hair that always fell carelessly across his eyes. Your own gaze flickered down to the pout of his perfect mouth and you leaned in, sealing your lips to his. You poured your soul into the passion of your kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You stepped between his spread thighs, pressing your body against the solid wall of him. He kissed you back, deeply. His massive arms wrapped you up has thick fingers gripped your hips, pulling you closer still. The thickness of his thighs caged you in - there was nothing between you not touching or desperately trying to get closer to the other.

You licked into his mouth and he moaned. He felt weak but never too much to refuse your touch. Just as his hands began to wander down to trace the swell of your bottom, you eased back.

Your breath mingled with his as he waited, unable to anticipate what you wanted, or what you would do next.

You wanted everything from him - all of him, but he needed to know this wasn't about sex or tempting him to feed. With one more soft kiss to his mouth, you reached for his face, staring deeply into his shining eyes.

“Miguel, I love you,” you tenderly whispered. You would have thought your feelings were a neon sign, but you had to make sure he understood. He could reject you, but you were really hoping he wouldn’t. Not after he murmured his love to you in your bed - not after Friday night up against that wall. And not after him telling you this morning that he couldn’t lose you.

“I love you and I can’t lose you either,” you went on, passionately. “Please…please don’t leave me. I-I can’t bear to see you hurt like this. I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you - "

“You love me?” He whispered, his eyes wide as his lungs tripped over the next few breaths he attempted to take.

“Yes,” you tearfully laughed out. “Yes, isn’t it obvious? I love you so much.”

Miguel’s eyes glistened as he touched his forehead to yours. “I wasn’t sure. I could only hope that this was more than just…” Pressing a sweet kiss to your mouth, he stopped his own rambling. “I love you too.”

Coming up: Will Miguel feed? If so, how?

And later: some universal clues start to fall into place as this story hurtles toward its end.

next

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[clementine-writes-things]

Pink Lace - E.N

Summary: Edward Nashton gets invited to go to a club by some coworkers. Taking this as a sign that they might want to be friends, he goes, and he tries to be "cool". Of course they set him up for a cruel joke. They pay for a dancer to give him a private lap dance, and he's mortified. When the dancer, y/n, notices that he's uncomfortable, she decides to just sit and talk with him.

Content Warning: NSFW (no smut but sexual themes), explicit language, sexual themes, shy!Edward, introvert!Edward, dancer!Reader, angst, fluff, Edward and reader are both in mid 20s.

Word Count: 5.1k

Songs For Inspo:

Interlude The Trio - Lana Del Rey

HYPNOTIC DATA - Odetari

Bubble Pop Electric - Gwen Stefani, Johnny Vulture

DANCE! Till We Die - 6arleyhuman

Slave 4 U - Brittany Spears

REPL4CE! - Lumi Athena, xxanteria, jnhygs

"Y-You can dance for me."

The strobe lights flashed throughout the club, nearly blinding Edward. He could practically feel the bass of the music rattle in his bones. How anyone could think in a place like this blew his mind. Never in Edward's life did he think he'd be in a club, but here he was. But he also never thought he'd be asked to go to one, either. The interaction still played in his mind, trying to process how he got here.

Edward picked up the coffee pot, filling up his cup in the break room. The steam from the hot beverage rose, and it fogged up his glasses. Mumbling to himself, he wiped them clean and put the pot back. Usually Edward liked to put some sugar in his coffee, but right now he was too tired to even care. He turned around slowly, and nearly jumped into the air. His coffee almost spilled, and he let out a little yelp as he saw one of his coworkers in front of him.

"Hey, math whiz! What's up?" Laurence asked.

Edward's eyes widened, feeling like he shrunk in size. That was ironic though, considering that he was the tallest person in the office. Not really sure what to say, he silently took a sip of his coffee.

"Alright then...so, what are your plans for the weekend, huh?" The man asked, stepping behind Edward.

He stepped to the side, watching his coworker pour himself some coffee like he did. It could have just been the hot beverage in his hands, but he felt his palms get clammy.

"U-Uh, video games, probably." He stuttered.

Laurence turned around, chuckling before taking a sip of his coffee.

"Would you want to go to a club with me and a few other guys from the office? Tonight?"

Edward froze up, like a deer in the headlights. Laurence looked at him, raising an eyebrow as he waited for a response. Regaining his composure, the taller man nodded.

"Alright, sounds good. You need to get out more, Eric."

He turned around and left the breakroom.

"...it's Edward."

Edward was so nervous about the night, but he was also excited about it. Based on how social interactions went, usually one would only invite someone if they wanted to be friends. Therefore, Laurence probably wanted to be friends with Edward. Well, at least that's what he hoped. In an attempt to impress the people from his work, he wore an outfit that he rarely ever wore. Basically everything about it was the color black, and he even styled his hair. He had never been to a club before, so he didn't really know what he would be getting into. He kept his glasses, of course, and he even wore a wristwatch. In his opinion, he looked pretty good, but it wasn't necessarily his preferred style.

"Oh..." He trailed.

There were women dancing on tables, and it caught him off guard. He looked to Laurence, eyes blown out. The man laughed, taking a sip of his beer.

"What? You've never seen strippers?"

Edward shook his head, doing his best to avert his gaze. It was amusing, really. He looked like he could kick someone's ass. And frankly, he looked like he could absolutely get laid. His outfit certainly helped with that. But his demeanor was completely the opposite of how he looked. If a woman looked at him, he might just implode like a dying star.

"Have you ever seen a woman naked? Like, at all?" He asked.

Edward shook his head again.

"I mean, like in movies sort of. I've just never...been with one."

"Holy shit, guys, Nashton's a virgin! Like we're talking a vow of celibacy." He joked.

The other coworkers commented, making Edward blush. He looked down at the ground. Laurence looked to the dancers, and smirked. Without saying anything, he slipped away unnoticed by Edward.

"I already hate this." Edward mumbled to himself.

He fidgeted with his hands, and started to pick at his skin. His throat felt swollen, and he cleared it. Shakily, he walked up to the bar. The bartender walked over, waiting for him to order.

"Do you have any water?" He asked quietly.

The bartender scoffed, and walked away. Edward frowned, picking at his skin even more. He felt stupid for agreeing to come. Looking around, he noticed Laurence and a few other guys talking a bit away from him. After hyping himself up, he walked over to them. He just needed to act cool.

"Hey!" He said.

He mentally face palmed himself. "Hey!", seriously? Edward wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Laurence chuckled, noticing how overwhelmed Edward looked. Smirking, he pointed to a little room in the corner of the club. It had red curtains covering the entrance. Edward followed his pointing.

"If you need a minute to relax, just step into one of those. It's like...it's like a decompression area." He bit back a laugh.

Edward looked back at him, smiling.

"Ok, yeah! That sounds nice. I just need a minute, but I'll be back."

He turned around and started to make his way over. So much for being cool, but whatever. It was nice of Laurence to tell him about those rooms. Sighing, he pulled back the curtain and stepped inside. The music still played in the background, but he was far enough away from the hustle and bustle that it was faint. He didn't mind the music that much, just the crowds of people and lights. Not thinking much about it, he sat down on the long seat/couch thing. He didn't really care what it was, he just knew that he needed a break. A groan left his lips as he buried his head in his hands.

"God, I'm getting a headache..." He grumbled.

The curtain pulled back, and someone stepped in.

"Mmm, that's not good!" A soft voice said.

Edward shot his head up, eyes widening when he saw the person before them. She looked like one of the dancers he had seen, and his heart nearly stopped. Instantly, he gripped his pants and stiffened his posture. It was then that he noticed there was a pole in front of him. How the hell did he not notice this before? Edward swallowed harshly, taking in her appearance. She wore what looked like lacy pink lingerie, and a pair of matching pink heels. Glitter covered her body, and she shimmered in the light. The makeup she wore, the eyeshadow also being pink, was glittery as well. Edward felt like he was looking at an angel, but he also felt like he shouldn't be looking at all. Quickly, he averted his gaze.

"U-Um, who are y-you?" He stuttered.

Edward couldn't help but look up again, seeing her hook a leg around the pole. She grabbed it with her right hand, placing the other on her hip. A soft giggle left their lips, and he felt like he'd melt right then and there.

"What do you mean by that?"

He felt like dying.

"Y-Your name?"

She nodded.

"Y/n, what about you?"

She did a little walk around the pole, holding onto it the whole time. Edward felt like he shouldn't look, but he didn't want to be mean and ignore her either. God he felt so conflicted. How the hell was he supposed to talk to her if she looked like that? He didn't know how to talk to women in the first place, or even people in general. So the fact that she was drop dead gorgeous just made it harder for him.

"E-Edward Nashton. A-Are you here to decompress too, y/n?" He asked softly.

Another giggle left her throat, and she moved in front of him. Before he could even process what was happening, she sat on his lap. His eyes widened, the sensation of her straddling him making his body heat up. Blood rushed down south, and he silently cursed himself. How utterly embarrassing.

"No, but I can help you decompress Mr. Nashton..." She trailed, placing her hands on his chest.

Edward's heart was racing, and he felt like he was dreaming. It was more like a nightmare though.

"I-I don't understand..."

"You're friends told me you needed a little relaxation." She smiled.

"I-..oh..." He trailed.

Y/n's bubbly demeanor faded a little bit, seeing him frown. She got off his lap, sensing that something was wrong. No matter who they were, whenever y/n sat on someone's lap, they got very excited. But Edward did not. Well, he got a "somewhat" excited, but not literally excited. She stood in front of him, crossing her arms over her chest casually.

"Is something wrong? Did I do something you didn't want?" She asked, a little worried.

He shook his head. Truthfully, he liked it. It was just the scenario that made it weird for him. He hadn't expected it to happen. And now that he realized what was happening, well, he wanted to cry.

"No, y-you're ok. Um..." He sighed.

Y/n hummed, turning around and walking out. Edward's eyes welled up with tears. Great, even the dancer didn't want anything to do with him. How lovely. Quickly, he wiped a tear away. He motivated himself to get up, but before he could, y/n came back in. She had a robe wrapped around her body, and she held it tightly as she sat down next to him. His gaze flickered towards her, and he felt nervous.

"Your friends paid me to spend 30 minutes with you, but that doesn't mean we can't talk during it. Is there something on your mind? You seem like you don't want this." She asked.

He smiled, touched that she was going to stay with him. Of course she was paid to, but he guessed that his coworkers were long gone by now. If she really wanted to, she could just leave with an easy pay. But she was willing to stay and talk.

"They aren't my friends. Well, I thought they might want to be, but I'm seeing that um...th-they don't want to." He sighed.

Y/n tilted her head curiously.

"What do you mean?"

He started to pick at his skin again.

"W-We work together. Um, they invited me to come here with them. Turns out th-they just wanted to embarrass me, I guess. P-Probably thought it would be funny to trick me into c-coming in here..." He sniffled.

"You didn't know they were paying for you to get a dance?" She asked.

He shook his head.

"My coworker said that these were r-rooms to decompress in. Like, um, like if you're overstimulated or something..." He trailed, feeling a little humiliated.

"That douchebag! What the fuck!" She huffed.

"I'm sorry to have wasted y-your time. You can go i-if you want." Edward said meekly.

She scoffed.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I should be the one apologizing! I just sat on your lap and you didn't even want it. You probably hated it, I'm so sorry! God I'm so embarrassed..." She groaned, hiding her face in her hands.

Edward turned to look at her, frowning.

"I di-didn't hate it, really...I just didn't expect it. You shouldn't be apologizing either. You w-were just doing your job." He tried to comfort her.

She sniffled, removing her hands from her face. Y/n nodded, wiping under her eyes with her fingers. Edward noticed she had tears streaming down her cheeks. He watched as she stood up, clutching the robe close to her body.

"Do you want a drink? I need some water." She asked softly.

He nodded.

"I wanted water too, and the bartender ignored me."

She rolled her eyes.

"Barry's an asshole. I'll get you some water, and I'll be right back, I promise."

Edward gave her a smile, watching as she left the room. Once she did, he looked down at his lap. He grimaced as he saw he still had his erection. Of course, because this interaction couldn't get any more awkward.

"This'll make an interesting journal entry." He joked to himself in an attempt to cheer himself up.

It didn't really work.

Upon further examination, he noticed that y/n had gotten glitter on his clothes. It wasn't on purpose obviously, but it happened anyway. He liked it, though. It looked cool shining in the light. Sighing, he pulled out a crossword book from his bag. Edward carried his leather messenger bag everywhere with him. It made him look like a dork, sure, but it was convenient. He opened the book up to a random page, grabbing a pencil from his bag and started to work on it. It only took him a couple minutes to solve a third of it. By that time, y/n had come back and sat down. Edward was surprised that she came back, but he brought his attention to her in recognition.

"Here you go." She said, handing him a water bottle.

"Thank you..."

He took a sip, and y/n looked at the book. Her eyes widened when she saw it. Edward noticed her expression, and he felt a little awkward.

"Holy shit, did you do all of that while I was gone?" She asked, pointing to it.

He nodded silently.

"I was only gone for a few minutes! What...what the fuck is an abomasum?!" She nearly laughed.

Edward put his water bottle down on the table, which happened to be where the pole was attached to. He moved the book to her, so she could get a better look. To give a visual representation, he pointed to his stomach.

"It's the fourth stomach chamber of ruminants." He said simply, with a faint smile.

She looked at him with a blank expression. Club music blared in the back, and she blinked slowly. The bass resonated in the ground, and vibrated through their feet.

"Uh huh...what's a ruminant?"

Edward laughed softly.

"Do you want the simple definition or the full definition?" He asked.

"Fuck it, give me the full definition." She asked, sitting crisscross on the couch.

He turned a little bit, wanting to face her more.

"Well there are three different definitions, one is an adjective and the other two are nouns. The one I'm talking about is a noun. It's, if I remember correctly, an even-toed ungulate mammal that chews the cud regurgitated from its rumen. So like cattle, deer, sheep, giraffes, and antelopes." He said simply.

Y/n took out her phone, typing away on it. He sat in silence, watching her as she looked at the screen. She scoffed playfully.

"That's like the exact definition. What are you, a walking dictionary?" She joked.

He shrugged.

"I just like learning things, I suppose. I'm skilled in assimilating."

Y/n looked at him blankly, yet again.

"Oh, um, learning. Assimilate means to take in things around you. Like a sponge absorbing water."

She burst out laughing, covering her mouth as she did. He raised an eyebrow, and then furrowed them. Edward frowned, feeling a little sheepish all of a sudden.

"Don't laugh at me..." He mumbled.

"Oh, no! I'm sorry, I'm not making fun of you Edward. I just think it's funny that someone as smart as you thought that this was a 'decompression room'." She giggled.

He nodded.

"I will admit, it wasn't my brightest moment. But I didn't expect to be the victim of a cruel joke either." He sighed.

Y/n slowly stopped laughing, nodding as well.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I'm really sorry about that. They sound like jerks. I hope no one else at your work is like that."

He chuckled weakly.

"Oh, they are. I'm not really a likeable person there. Or...anywhere, I guess. They all think I'm weird." He admitted, taking another sip of his water.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows.

"Weird? Why do they say that? You don't seem weird to me."

He smiled.

"Well, thank you. But you don't really know me that well."

"I doubt they know you well either, yet they still make that assumption." She retorted.

Edward removed the bottle from his lips, thinking for a moment. He looked down, realizing the truth behind her words. He never really thought about it like that. They didn't know a thing about him, only that he liked puzzles. He put the bottle back down, wiping a water drop off his lip. Shit, why not? He'll vent to a dancer. He'll vent to y/n.

"I have a love for puzzles, numbers, riddles, stuff like that. I guess that isn't 'normal', so that might be what they're judging me by." He explained.

Y/n clapped her hands.

"Oh! Wait that's so neat! How is that weird?! I love riddles, but I'm not necessarily good at them."

Edward was a bit taken aback by her happy nature. Truth be told, he had never had a conversation with a woman for this long in a while, if ever. Let alone a beautiful one like her. He cautiously smiled, as if he was trying to have a discussion with a wild animal. Y/n propped their chin up on the palm of their hand.

"So, like...are you a doctor or something? You must have a really cool job if you're a brainiac!" She asked curiously.

He shook his head.

"I'm a forensic accountant."

Y/n tilted her head.

"Does that mean you, like, deal with the financial aspect of forensics?"

"Sort of, yeah. I look for any discrepancies in cases, and sometimes I have to go to court to give the information."

"Oh that sounds...fun..." She trailed.

He chuckled.

"No, it's not. You don't have to pretend."

"Ok good, that sounds so fucking boring I'm sorry."

Edward smiled, something that he hadn't been doing as of late.

"You're fine."

"Still, you must have a fancy degree or something right?" She asked, genuinely interested to know more about him.

He shook his head again.

"Not really. I got the job right after I got out of the orphanage."

"Oh, you're an orphan? I'm sorry about that. I don't really talk to my parents that much. I've got some daddy issues I'm trying to work out." She tried to laugh it off casually.

Edward nodded, not really sure what to say. Y/n, feeling like she ruined the mood, decided to change the subject. Clearing her throat, she took a sip of her own water bottle. She didn't want to get drunk at work, especially with her being a dancer. That could lead to something bad happening.

"To be honest, I'd rather be a forensic accountant than work here."

He raised an eyebrow.

"You don't like working here?" He asked.

She scoffed.

"I fucking hate it here. I only got a job here because I got kicked out of the house at 18 for literally no reason, and I needed a source of income. I've been here ever since. Gross men try and grope me, the pay even isn't that good, people are fucking dicks and don't tip well, the list goes on and on..." She trailed.

Edward frowned.

"...but you're the first guy that's ever wanted to just sit and talk. Though you didn't even plan on interacting me in the first place, so I don't know if that even counts you as a customer."

He adjusted his glasses a bit, as they were sliding down his nose. Y/n looked up at him, seeing that he was looking at her.

"Is it bad that I'm not a real customer?" He asked.

She shrugged.

"I mean, I'm not upset. I'm enjoying this talk. It's nice to be treated like an actual human being. But my boss has rules. These rooms are reserved for dances only, not chatting. No one ever wants to just chat though anyways. Actually, if I don't leave or give you a dance I'll get in trouble..." Y/n sighed, nodding her head upwards.

Edward looked up, seeing a surveillance camera. It was a little weird, but it only made sense. At least they cared enough to make sure the dancers were safe.

"That's not fair. I mean, I know I didn't pay you, but you still were paid."

Y/n shrugged.

"Yeah I know. My boss is a piece of shit. Like I said, I hate it here." She laughed, but she didn't sound happy about it.

Edward grimaced.

"I don't want you to get in trouble, but I don't want you to leave either. I'm enjoying our talk, as weird as the scenario is..." He admitted.

Y/n sighed.

"Well, I'll get in trouble if I don't leave. I was enjoying our talk too. Again, I'm really sorry about what happened wit-"

"Y-You can dance for me." He stammered out.

Y/n, who had stood up already, turned to look at him. She looked like someone had just yelled gibberish at her. Oddly enough, it seemed like she was more embarrassed than he was. She chuckled, looking down at the floor.

"Um, are you sure?" She asked.

Of course he was sure. Edward Nashton, a man who barely ever talked to women, just had a whole conversation with one. Sure the situation was a little...unique, but still. It was something, right? And it wasn't like he was just desperate for conversation. He actually liked y/n's company so far. She had no reason to pretend to like him, especially since he didn't even want her to dance in the first place. She had no reason, and yet she still asked about his life. Y/n had been genuinely interested in learning more about him. It was foreign to Edward, and he didn't want to lose it. Even if this would be the only time he'd ever see her, he was ok with that.

"Yeah, I'm sure." He said.

Y/n smiled, nodding a little bit. He watched as she walked over to a speaker, pulling out her phone. Edward was curious, not really sure what she was doing. She glanced over and noticed his confusion, so she explained.

"I'm playing some music. Do you have any requests?" She asked politely.

He shook his head.

"Um, my music taste wouldn't really suit this." He said shyly.

Y/n giggled, playing her own playlist. The song that started playing had a nice beat to it, and Edward thought it sounded familiar. She walked over to the table, chuckling softly as Edward moved the water bottle. He leaned back, a little tense and unsure of what to do as y/n stepped up onto the table. She let her robe fall off, tossing it on the couch. Edward's cheeks turned a bright red, completely forgetting that y/n was wearing the lingerie underneath. Noticing how stiff he was, she decided to start some conversation. She grabbed onto the pole, and walked around it.

"What kind of music do you like? I doubt you like what I listen to." She giggled.

Edward listened to the song, realizing that it was a Gwen Stefani song. He couldn't remember the name exactly, but he recognized it. Swallowing nervously, he fidgeted with his hands while watching y/n.

"Not particularly, but I don't mind listening to it if I have to. Um, I like metal a lot. Nu, heavy, thrash, just any metal really. Um, I really just listen to anything to be honest. Well, except country music because it...sucks." He chuckled at the end.

Y/n hooked her leg around the pole, leaning her head back. Edward's eyes widened, and she smiled at him from her upside down position. He couldn't help but smile back.

"I like that stuff too! And I agree about country music. It just...sucks. Yeah."

Edward was surprised to hear that. She didn't really look like she listened to metal music. But then again, he didn't really look like he'd ever go to a club. Who was he to judge people based off their appearance. Y/n obviously didn't judge. She didn't call him a weirdo when they first started talking, even when she knew he wasn't a real customer. Y/n stood back up, but quickly spun around on the pole.

"What's your favorite metal band?" He asked.

Y/n hummed.

"Well, there are different types of metal. For thrash, I'd have to say Megadeth. Dave Mustaine was so hot in the 80's. Um, for NU metal it's really hard to choose, so it's tied with Korn and SOAD. I'd have to add Slipknot as a miscellaneous because they're honestly just a little bit of every metal genre." She explained, dancing on the pole the entire time.

He could practically feel his heart beating under his ribcage. She had the same taste as him. Oh that was fucking awesome. He smiled, and found himself getting lost in her movements.

"You like the same things I like." He commented.

"Oh, that's cool!" She giggled.

Edward nodded, clearing his throat. He still couldn't get past the fact that y/n was dancing in front of him. Not only that, but in lingerie. And the fact that she was a dancer in a club. It was just such a strange situation, but he wasn't really complaining. He was talking with a beautiful woman.

"I'm gonna be honest, you don't really look like the type to be a brainiac." She said.

"Oh, yeah. Um, I normally don't dress like this. I wanted to, wow this is a little embarrassing...I wanted to impress my colleagues." He admitted, a little ashamed.

Y/n tilted her head, sliding down the pole.

"What do you normally dress like?" She asked.

Edward pulled his phone out, scrolling through his camera roll. He usually didn't take pictures of himself, but he had the occasional few. After a few more moments, he turned the phone around to show y/n. She stopped dancing for a moment, and crouched down to look at the picture. In the picture, he was wearing a button up white shirt and a pair of brown slacks. He had his hair how he usually kept it, which tended to just be messy. His clear glasses framed his face nicely. Y/n smiled warmly, and it made Edward smile too.

"Edward Nashton, you look like the classic boy next door!" She giggled.

He blushed.

"I'm serious! I mean, you look really good right now, that's for certain. But you're cute just the way you are. Don't try and change yourself to get approval from others."

Edward's eyes went wide, and his entire face was a light red. He looked like a tomato. Y/n giggled at the sight, and she continued to dance on the pole. He couldn't believe that y/n had just said he was good looking, and cute. His heart fluttered, and he felt like he was on the moon.

"Really? You're not just saying that?" He asked.

"Edward, trust me. If I didn't think you were cute, I wouldn't still be here. Plus, I like our conversation anyways. You've got looks, manners, you're sweet, and you have a good personality. It's rare to find all of those in a man."

He smiled.

"Well, thank you y/n. You're really pretty, but you probably get that a lot."

She shook her head.

"Not many people call me pretty. Mainly hot and sexy. I mean, I know they're still compliments, but they're not as genuine." She said.

Edward furrowed his eyebrows.

"That's strange. I mean, you do have a nice body, I'm sorry if saying that makes you uncomfortable. But I don't know why people would only focus on that. I've been looking at your eyes a lot."

Y/n smiled widely, trying to hide the blush on her face. Edward caught it though, and he blushed himself.

"I'm not uncomfortable at all, Edward. Coming from you, I take it as a genuine compliment."

Y/n looked at the clock, seeing that their time was almost up. Edward looked as well, and he frowned. She got off the pole, stepping down carefully. Immediately, he offered his hand to her, and she took it gratefully. When she got off the table, she turned to look at him. Her eyes flickered to his lap, and he caught it. He swallowed nervously, sitting up straight. Y/n took that as a sign that it was ok to sit on his lap. Daintily, she straddled his waist. Edward bit on his bottom lip, doing his best to prevent himself from getting an erection, but it was inevitable. He felt mortified, and he immediately apologzied.

"I-I'm sorry, I'm so sorr-"

She brought a finger up, holding it to his lips. He went quiet, and watched as she brought her hand back down. His heart raced as she grabbed the book with his crossword puzzles. Y/n picked the pencil up, scribbling something down. When she was done, she handed it to Edward.

"Don't be sorry. Usually, it grosses me out. But with you..." She trailed.

Edward's eyes widened when she brushed a stray hair out of his face.

"...I'm flattered...and a little flustered." She admitted.

He looked down, seeing what she wrote down. His eyes nearly rolled out of their sockets as he saw her phone number. Not fully buying it, he looked up at her.

"I-Is this a joke?"

She shook her head.

"I'm planning on quitting this stupid job. I'm glad I met you before I did though. I um...sorry I'm a little nervous. My shift ends soon, um, do you want to come home with me?"

He flinched, face bright red at this point. When y/n realized how that sounded, she shook her head.

"No, no, no! Not like that! I'm a dancer, not a prostitute. Oh my God, I'm sorry. That was a stupid way to phrase it. Um, I mean like...would you want to come over and have dinner or something? It's not that late, only 7ish..." She blurted out, feeling utterly embarrassed."

Edward swallowed thickly.

"U-Um, yeah that's fine with me. But can you let me buy dinner? I feel like I owe you dinner after all of...this..." He chuckled.

She nodded.

"Yeah, that's ok. That's very nice of you, Edward." She smiled.

She got off of him, putting her robe on as she did so. Edward stood up as well, grabbing his wallet from his bag. Y/n looked at him, a little confused. When she saw him taking out money, she nearly froze in place.

"What are you doing?" She asked, turning the music off and grabbing her phone.

He looked up.

"I'm not a fucking dick, so I'm tipping." He smiled, quoting her from earlier.

He held out around twenty dollars, maybe a little more. Y/n's eyes widened.

"E-Edward, there's no need for that. That's a lot of money, I usually don't get that much..."

He frowned.

"Please take it, I'll feel bad if you don't. Plus, I um, liked it. I mean that in the least perverted way possible, though. You're just really pretty, and women don't usually talk to me, so I j-"

Y/n took the money from him, giving him a soft smile.

"Thank you, Edward."

"You're welcome, y/n."

#writers #fanfic writer #writers of tumblr #fanfic #the riddler #dc universe #gotham #edward nygma #paul dano #danonation #danocel #danonator #edward nashton #dano riddler #riddler

[tomtenadia]

Detours to You - 25

Hello all again, here we are with another chapter. This is a nice one and after this there are still 6 chapters left. The angst is basically over. We are a few months after the last chapter. Rowan is healed and also back to work.

He gets some amazing news in this chapter and then we have Lysaedion's wedding. Also we have smut. Oh yes our two birds have finally reconnected that way too and now they can't keep their hands off each other.

Hope you will love this.

MASTERLIST

A few more months elapsed and spring finally decided to appear in Orynth and the snow eventually began to thaw. The white of winter lead the way to the colours of the new seasons and cherry blossoms painted some of the parks pink.

Rowan was a winter person but happily admitted that spring had its own way of making everything look happier with all of its colours.

He had left HQ after a meeting with the commissioners on some of the improvements they have been working on. That had been his last meeting of the day and now he was driving towards the ice rink to pick up Maya after hockey practice. She had finished her introductory weeks and now she had started the actual training and was finally learning to play hockey. That was a first he had got to experience and his phone was bursting with pictures of his daughter in hockey gear. He and Aelin had taken her to a shop to buy all the equipment. She was proudly using the stick she had received for her birthday and for her jersey she had chosen the same number he used. She had chosen him and not Dorian and he could not contain his pride. On his way to the rink he had stopped at the dry cleaner where he had to collect his dress mess uniform. Lysandra and Aedion were finally getting married that weekend and Aelin had begged him to wear his uniform so he had agreed.

He and Aelin had improved a lot more and as soon as he was cleared to go back to work, he had taken her for a weekend in Ilium just before he was due to go back to work. They had left Maya with her grandparents and it had taken some convincing that it was a holiday they needed alone. They had to reconnect fully and finally took the last step in their relationship. They had almost spent the entire weekend in bed with just a few interludes for a swim in the sea and dinners out. It had been a perfect weekend.

The ice rink appeared in front of him and parked his TFD pickup in the car park and walked in, following the sound of the girls playing. He reached the rink and saw a few parents leaning against the barriers watching their daughters play.

He easily spotted Maya and smiled. She had perfected her skating technique quickly and they had gone out a few times together.

He noticed that they were practicing shooting techniques and he smiled when Maya kicked her puck right in the corner of the net with what meant to be a basic snapshot, fooling the goalie. He had taught her that.

He pumped his fist in the air in joy and in that instant one of the mothers walked towards him “is she yours?”

“Yes,” he answered quietly.

Aelin had explained him that at school he had won the title of DILF. He was about to celebrate until she explained him the meaning of the acronym. He had been horrified. The same story repeated itself at hockey practice.

The woman tried to keep talking to him, but Rowan managed to ignore her by adding that he was there to enjoy his daughter playing hockey. 

Maya finished half an hour later and ran to him, while carrying her duffel bag and stick “Dad!”

He lifted her in his arms and kissed her “You have been so good today.”

“Did you see me?”

He nodded and put her down “ready to go home?”

Hand in hand they walked out of the rink and drove home.

*

The weekend finally arrived and so did Lysandra and Aedion’s wedding. The couple had decided to get married in a steading just outside the city that offered functions. It had a big pond and the wedding was going to take place near its banks and then the owners had prepared all the tables for the meal which was all produce from their farm. 

Aelin was in hers and Rowan’s room getting ready. She and Elide were maid of honours and were wearing a long sleeveless green dress “Ro, can you zip it please?”

He came out the bathroom in his still open shirt and damp hair.

“You are not allowed to look this hot,” she stepped closer, her fingers brushing his chest. Stroking the markings in the old language where she knew Fireheart and Maya stood.

Rowan hummed “no distractions, we have a wedding to attend.”

Aelin kissed his pecs and his hands landed on her hips. Since they had taken the last step in Ilium, they had struggled to keep their hands off each other, but with a toddler next door they had been careful and did not manage to have as much fun as they wanted.

Rowan kissed her neck “You look stunning.”

“I don’t have anything underneath,” she whispered in his ear and felt Rowan pushing her against the dresser.

“Temptress.”

Aelin looked up at his eyes clouded with lust and a darker shade of green. She loved being the cause of that reaction. She had feared that after their separation their intimate life would suffer but Aelin had been wrong. The sexual tension had been building up for a while and in Ilium they had discovered that their chemistry was still explosive.

Rowan nibbled at the spot behind her ear that had the power to melt her and a whimper left her mouth. She had to talk to him, she had something important to say but her body had decided to stop responding to her.

“Ro…”

The kiss he gave her almost reduced her to a putty “Ro…” she repeated with urgency.

He gently pulled back and caressed her face “what?”

Aelin stepped back and looked at him “I have something to tell you.”

His stare turned worried and Aelin noticed it so moved quickly back to him, grabbing his hand and placing it on her belly “I found out a few days ago.”

She stared at his expression morph from worry to pure joy as he got the meaning of her words “for real?”

Aelin nodded “I did the math and I am positive it was our sex fest in Ilium,”

Rowan laughed and pulled Aelin to him “We are having another baby?”

She looked up at him and was glad that she had not started with make up yet because at his expression, tears started to well in her eyes “Maya will be a big sister?”

Another nod “I have not told anyone because I have not been to the doctor yet and I wanted to tell you first.”

“I am coming with you, I am not missing anything this time.” He lifted Aelin in his arms and twirled on his feet until she asked him to stop because she was getting queasy.

“I love you,” he added kissing her deeply and in that instant the door flew open and Maya burst in “Mama, dad no kissy.”

Rowan went to his daughter, lifted her in his arms and stamped a loud kiss on her cheek “did nana help you dress?”

Maya climbed off him and showed her dad her green dress and the cute green trainers Aelin had bought her. Eiddwen had combed her hair in two lovely braids tied with a green ribbon.

“You are lovely, but now sit on the bed so mum and dad can finish dress up.”

“Mama, dad are you getting married too?”

Both adults stopped what they were doing and looked at each other. They had put the priority on rebuilding the foundations of their relationship but Rowan definitely wanted to marry Aelin.

“Not yet, Maya.” Added Aelin, looking at Rowan who nodded back at her. He walked to his daughter and sat at her side “Your mum and I are working on it,” he extended his hand to Aelin and she took it “For now you need to know that I love you and your mum very much.”

“But she is your princess.”

Rowan smiled and shook his head “no baby, you are my princess,” he kissed her head and then stood, enveloping Aelin in his arms “Your mum is my queen.”

Aelin melted in his arms and Maya joined them, and Rowan held in his arms his growing family.

*

The wedding had been perfect. Aelin and Rowan had sat together with Elide and Lorcan and Maya had been the ring bearer and she had been proud at being given such an important task. 

The ceremony had been perfect and during the vows Aelin had found herself crying, although she mostly blamed the hormones.

Now it was the after dinner and the party was in full swing. Lysandra had invited both Aelin and Rowan’s parents and Maya was busy dancing with her grandfather while Rowan had stolen Lysandra for a moment and Aelin had gone dancing with her cousin.

“So, how does it feel to be married?”

Lysandra chuckled “Marry Aelin and you will know…”

Rowan chuckled and Lysandra gasped “Are you going to propose?”

“Maybe…”

“Rowan Whitethorn,” she whispered “It’s about time.”

He smiled “we just took a detour through life but we are back on track now.”

“Good, because I want to dance at your wedding next.”

The dance came to an end and Aelin joined him again “Want to dance, chief?”

Rowan kissed her  “I have a better idea,” he took her hand and started walking away from the main party area. 

Aelin laughed when she noticed when he was going towards the barn.

“Seriously?”

Rowan paused “don’t tell me that in none of your romance books the couple doesn’t sneak away for some fun in the barn?”

Aelin pulled him closer “Oh no, chief, I have plenty of examples.”

Quickly they walked in the building and Rowan closed the door behind them and then a moment later Aelin was flush against the wall, his body caging hers “this dress has been driving me crazy,”  

Aelin’s hands found purchase in his hair while his started roving her body climbing higher up to the edge of the corset. Her breast were full and tempting him. Slowly he pulled the fabric down exposing her soft mounds. His mouth covered one of her hard peaks while the other was being tended by his hand. Aelin moaned loudly and pushed him harder against her. 

“Fuck, Rowan…”

He looked up with a happy smirk “any problems, m’lady?”

“I need you,” she breathed while her hand palmed his length in a teasing motion.

Rowan put the corset back in place and with a strong pull of his arms he lifted her on the desk, moving between her legs and getting closer to her.

“How much do you want me?” He breathed against her ear and Aelin moaned, her hand fisting in his long hair “stop teasing, chief.”

A chuckle left Rowan’s lips while his hand trailed her legs, slowly lifting the long dress. His mouth was avidly on her neck.

Aelin’s legs wrapped around his back and she slightly leaned backward on her hands “I am going commando, remember.”

The growl that left Rowan’s lips was savage and his mouth devoured her in desperation.

And when Aelin let out another obscene moan, Rowan’s finger slowly traced her core, noting how wet she was “all this for me? Gods, Aelin, you are dripping.”

She was about to let out a sassy remark when the feeling of his fingers filling her made her shatter and shorted her ability to speak. 

Gods, sex with Rowan always had the power to destroy her. She had tried with another person but it had been so mundane that she had gone home and finished herself off. It had not been Sam’s fault. He could have been decent with anyone else but she had Rowan has main reference. It had been hopeless. 

When Rowan added a third finger, Aelin saw stars and while he worked her to drag an earth shattering orgasm out of her, she grabbed one of her breasts and began teasing one of her hard peaks.

“I love when you touch yourself,” he added in a dark voice.

“Does that turn you on, chief?”

As a response Rowan stooped and fully lifted her dress, exposing her to him. A moment later his mouth was on her core and Aelin almost screamed.

“I have been hard for you since you put this dress on,” his tone had turned gruff while he kept feasting on her like a starved man. 

“Fuck me, Rowan. I need you inside of me.”

“Do you?”

“Please.”

Aelin knew he loved when she begged him and it turned her on to no end when their lovemaking was a bit rougher. Mala burn her, being taken in a barn was one of her fantasies.

Rowan pulled her up and then a bit forward so that her ass was lined up with the edge of the table. 

And while Rowan was unbuckling his trousers, Aelin’s finger found its way inside her causing a reaction in him “Look at me, Ae.”

That she did but at the same time she lifted her finger to her mouth and sucked it clean.

“Fuck.”

He stood in front of her, his cock in his hand, watching Aelin pleasing herself.

“Now chief, are we doing something about this?”

Rowan’s reaction was almost feral. He walked closer to her, lining himself to her entrance and in a swift motion he was inside her. Aelin groaned and collapsed on her back. He leaned forward and kissed her exposed breasts “gods Aelin.”

“More, I need more.”

He pulled her as close as possible never slowing down.

He felt her walls starting to clench and smiled and increased his speed until Aelin shattered under him, his name on her lips.

“I am not done yet with you.”

His finger went back to her clit trying to prolong her pleasure.

Aelin shattered a second time in his arms and he eventually felt the first signs that his peak was close too.

And when he did, he collapsed on her, wrapping her in his arms and leaning his forehead on hers “did it meet your fantasy?”

She kissed him “so much better.”

He gave her another kiss and then pulled back, trying to tidy himself up “I wonder if in the books they stash some cloth for the afterwards.”

Aelin laughed “no, in books they get clean magically.”

He grabbed her waist and pulled her off the table, pushing down her gown “Your hair is a bit messy.”

She snuggled closer to him “I don’t care. I’ll sneak in the bathroom on my way back.”

Giggling like two teenagers who had caused some troubles, they ran back to the main building and went to get sorted before joining again the wedding party.

taglist

@rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @whimsicallyreading @elentiyawhitethorn @aelin-bitch-queen @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity  @mis-lil-red @thegreyj @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire @sv0430 @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn  @susumaus98  @gracie-rosee @mybloodrunsblue @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah @whoever-you-choose-to-love  @theywillnotsingforme @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water @goddess-aelin @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @lovely-dove-zee @athena127 @mariaofdoranelle

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fanfic #aelin x rowan #rowanwhitethorn #throne of glass fanfiction #aelin galathynius

[nerdieforpedro]

Weekend Update 04/14/2024

Nerdie, you’re kinda late tonight.

Yeah, it was all taxes this weekend. 😭 Ugh. But it’s done. Let’s not talk about it anymore.

OK…So what’s new?

Back to work after time off. Adjusting and writing. I did watch the Ryan Gosling SNL episode. I laughed so hard.

I did get a manicure and pedicure - 💜 purple hehe!

I did read some fics this week:

1. Something Old by @fhatbhabie (Javi G x plus size female)

2. Sexting by @reallyrallyauthor (Steven Grant x Marc Spector x Jake Lockley x You)

3. Enchanted to Meet You by @beskarandblasters (Din Djarin x f reader)

4. Fires at Midnight by @inept-the-magnificent (Lucian Flores x f reader)

5. A Midnight Plea by @soft-persephone (Marc Spector x fem reader)

6. A Galaxy Far Far Away part 6: Halloween at Juniper Cottage - Pick your own pumpkin by @grogusmum (Din Djarin x earthling f reader)

7. I’ll Give You The Moon by @soft-persephone (Marc Spector x fem reader)

8. Mi Santa by @fhatbhabie (Frankie Morales x reader)

I did write some this week 👀 I’m sorry I’m advance. Things ended up dark. 😭 Those are marked with the red.

Back & Nose, Hair and Hat - (Only Parts of you Mr. Morales Series)

Her smile was worth it - for the iamasaddie writing challenge 2.0 (Pero Tovar modern AU DARK FIC)

Interlude Two - Tell me about her and Part Seven Merging the Star Clusters - (The Lake between us Series)

Scarlet Stains and their Echoes (DARK FIC) - Post Apocalyptic Fluff and Stuff

Chapter 3: Can we talk for a minute? - This is the Neighborhood Din Series.

This week there were a few things, like the writing challenge 2.0 @iamasaddie put together. We sent in asks, pick a color (I did it to myself, I asked for mob enforcer- where else was the fic to go but dark?) Despite being kinda freaked out at what I wrote (I’ll need to process that later) I like it. I usually don’t do dark fics but given recent themes in my writing it’s there. 👀 So I’ll write it if it pops up in the brain.

And this past weekend (I totally missed but sweethearts @perotovar and @honeyedmiller tagged me in) was the @swiftiscruff friendship exchange. From what I saw, people are writing fics for each other, making gif and moodboards and proving much needed friendship and fun. 😎

I’m sure there are other things. But I dunno what they are. 🤣 I hope everyone enjoys what they’re working on. And if you need to rest, drink some water, dance around, nap, all the things.

This week there will another chapter of Din’s neighborhood, I FINALLY have more Din fluff. Well in the neighborhood and Star Ocean Series. I should have another chapter of Benny and actual fluff post apocalypse. It escaped last week. So we’re bringing it back.

No more Ezra and his gumbo or tanktop 🥺 Part 8 will be up next Sunday. His prose will be no more for now. 🙃

My Frankie miniseries will be almost done. This Friday and the next Friday of my math is right. lol

Special thanks:

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings for finding an excellent pic of Frankie’s back and giving me notes on smut that I chose not to use for now

@connectioneverywhere for letting me talk their thumbs off and putting them to sleep. 🤣

@soft-persephone I see you 👀 Two words: Dem noses. 👃 You know. 😄

@megamindsecretlair You need to write about some curls! Telling me and Softie to write about them. You know which curls. 🤭

@soft-girl-musings Songbird, Cabbie and loud ass Marcello on drums. Why did I half expect him to be playing drums on SNL? 😂 He was wearing a very loud shirt so half credit.

@tinytinymenace it’s always fun seeing your namesake laying and just relaxing. 😎 With a dope poof.

@604to647 I really appreciated your ask and messages this week. 💜

Have a great week everyone! 🥰

Love Nerdie ❤️❤️❤️

#weekend update #Nerdie’s update #just under the wire #pedro pascal characters #oscar issac characters #fanfiction #fanfic rec #lovely friends #and just some fun

[thatbadadvice]

Dear Bad Advisor,

thank you for taking my query into consideration! I'll also take good advice, if you think my predicament is worthy of it. I guess I'll see what you decide on.

Here's my situation:

When we met my husband's family over Christmas, we talked about the upcoming birthday weekend for my kid, near the end of January. Since it was already planned that my husband's mother and sister would spend two days with my kid at the beginning of February, I asked if they were okay with just celebrating my kid's birthday then, since the birthday weekend itself was already very packed. When I say packed, I mean that we had a lot of children over on Saturday and a few of the grandparents on Sunday. They agreed because my kid is only three and they said they understand that it would be overwhelming if too much was going on at the same time.

About a week before the birthday weekend, the fact that my husband's mother had made quite a few comments about wanting to spend "birthday time" with my kid made me reconsider and I invited her for the Sunday of the birthday weekend. She accepted, but immediately switched to commenting that it would probably all be a bit much for my kid. I told her she didn't have to come if she was worried about that. She was offended I suggested that.

Then after the birthday weekend, she commented that her daughter (my sister-in-law) would have wanted to celebrate with my kid too. I said she still could, at the beginning if February, like we originally planned. My husband's aunt commented the same thing to me. My sister-in-law hasn't contacted me for weeks, which is unusual for her. I'm worried she's really upset with me and I didn't notice.

I told my husband's mother and aunt that I feel like I'm made out to be the bad guy no matter what I do. First I invite too many people, then not enough.

They said I should have planned a party with all of them in the first place. I said they should have told me that's what they want when we first talked about it in December. Then we could have talked about it. But I planned a birthday party for all the kids, which was what my kid really wanted, and I tried to make time for all the grandparents and aunts and uncles when it was sensible.

Somehow, even though my kid had a wonderful birthday she still tells everyone about every day, I feel really guilty and sad. Is there a way for me to keep everyone happy? It doesn't feel like it, and I really don't know if I should even try.

Readers sometimes send Bad Advisor their real-ass questions to answer, so the Bad Advisor is periodically going to try her hand at answering them. If you’d like to submit a question for a Good Advice Interlude, use the “ask” form!

The advice I’m going to offer here is predicated on one very important piece of information, which I don’t have: Whether or not your husband is literally capable of communicating with his family.

Is your husband literally capable of communicating with his family? I don’t mean “he’s very important/busy at work” or "he's training for the Iron Man" or “they have a complicated history” or “he’s on Mars and has limited access to email” or "he must protect the nuclear codes from the bad guys who are chasing him down La Cienega as we speak," which are all circumstances in which your husband remains fully capable of communicating with his family and planning for and around any communication challenges. I mean is he literally capable? If so, that’s his job now.

If your husband’s relatives don’t get certain information or invitations or cards or edible arrangements from your husband because he’s busy or forgot or has ADHD or is stressed out or depressed or fell asleep or went on a long hike without his phone, then they don’t get whatever that was, and it’s his fault and his responsibility to correct. If there’s beef, your husband can: (1) resolve the conflict with his relatives. If that doesn’t work, or he doesn’t want to, or he’d rather you do it, he can (2) not resolve the conflict with his relatives. If your husband's relatives harass you because he's not sending them information they need or not resolving conflict with them or not responding to their complaints, you can tell them "You’ll have to talk to Dale about that!" until they come up with something to talk to you about besides demanding you carry 100% of the Family Togetherness And Emotional Wellbeing Load. Imagine how many wonderful things there are on earth to discuss besides haranguing you about a 3-year-old's birthday plans! I bet your husband’s relatives can find one fast when you become a no-reply inbox that issues mailer-daemon errors every time they start up with complaints about how y'all manage your life and your family. 

If Dale (sorry, your husband's name is Dale now) won't be the first point of contact for his own family, then that is tough tittums for his family. The current arrangement is undoubtedly already and always tough tittums for you – why is that okay? – so what do you have to lose? Why is it fine for you to be the one person carrying sole responsibility not only for planning a 3-year-old's birthday party (in which you gave these people FLEXIBLE ATTENDANCE OPTIONS APLENTY) but for managing the pissy feelings of a bunch of pissy grown-ass adults who can articulate their own pissy needs, drive their own pissy cars, buy their own pissy Metrocards, hire their own pissy taxis, prepare their own pissy food, put on their own pissy shoes, and can — most importantly — show up when and where they are invited, or not, and not be pissy about it!!!! Sure, it’s “just” your kid's birthday party today, but it's also the next, what thirty or forty or fifty years of your life? Of being the Official Cruise Director And Liaison of All Things Fambly But Also The Help Who Gets Hollered At When The Napkins Are Not Ironed To Lady Grantham's Liking? Man, fuck that!

So, okay. On the off chance your husband is not literally capable of communicating with his family (he is dead? I feel like you would have said that, but anything’s possible), then you’re going to have to do this next part instead. Actually, you should do this next part even if Dale does turn out to be sentient and graciously agrees to field pissy texts from his pissy sister because he’s the greatest man alive and does incredible favors for people that go above and beyond the typical realm of human generosity and goodness, such as talking to his own mother about his own child’s birthday party.

You’re gonna figure out exactly how much other-adults-feelings-management you’re comfortable doing, and then do about a quarter of that amount. Ideally even less. Let’s talk about some of what you wrote:

“... my husband's mother had made quite a few comments about wanting to spend ‘birthday time’ with my kid made me reconsider and I invited her …”

She can ask for ‘birthday time’ using her words if that’s what she wants. You don’t have to guess what she wants and offer it to her.

“I'm worried she's really upset with me and I didn't notice.”

Y’all speak the same language? Have access to Google Translate if you don’t? You are never obligated to guess what someone else’s emotional state is. It is not your fault you are not psychic. It actually wouldn’t be your fault even if you were psychic.

“Is there a way for me to keep everyone happy?”

You don’t ask “Is there a way to make everyone here happy?” which would be the query of a person looking to resolve situational conflict with equal partners. You’re asking whether there’s a way for you to keep everyone happy, which is the query of someone who believes they are uniquely responsible for and tasked with maintaining other people’s emotional wellbeing not just now but indefinitely.

What if any of the other grown-ass adults involved in this situation – your mother-in-law, your sister-in-law, fucking Dale – did even a fraction of the amount of planning, anticipation, and accommodating that you’re doing for them and their needs and their wants and their schedules? Well, you wouldn’t be writing in in the first place, I guess. But listen to what you’re saying here, and look at how much work it is! You’re anticipating the needs of people who haven’t even told you they want something yet! You’re presuming that it is your responsibility to read the mind of someone who is perfectly capable of telling you if she is upset with you! You are wondering how to make all of the adults here happy and literally none of those adults are asking what makes you happy. (Any chance Dale has said he doesn’t care how his relatives feel about y’all’s kid’s birthday party? Any chance you’re caring on his behalf? Free yourself from this!!!!!!! You cannot fix other people’s relationships by caring more about their weird interpersonal shit than they do.)

Here’s the last thing that really stuck out to me, and I hope you don’t take it as me razzing you because I emphatically am not. You wrote:

“… even though my kid had a wonderful birthday she still tells everyone about every day, I feel really guilty and sad.”

Do you see that you made the most important person happy? Do you see that you, a caring and thoughtful and empathetic and motivated and capable parent did the most important thing? You gave your kid a birthday she is still fucking telling people about because it was that great! Fuck whether your mother-in-law had a good time in the general vicinity of your kid’s birthday! If there are smaller fish to fry on planet earth, I don’t know where they live. 

But it is a big fucking deal that you feel safe and confident and are able to do the kind of parenting you want and need to do without diverting all of this energy to small-ass fish fries (frys?). When your kid grows up, she will remember the great birthdays. She will remember parents who advocated for her and taught her important lessons and supported her. The person she will become depends on all of those things. It will not depend on how your husband’s aunt feels about a child’s third birthday party.

So: whether or not you can count on your husband to do a thing he should already be doing as the bare fucking minimum in a partnership, you have to figure out a way to get yourself to a way, way lower baseline of fucks given about whether other people like you or are happy with you. That doesn’t mean you have to be a jerk to them, but you don’t have to accommodate and anticipate and assuage them as your default setting.

Easier motherfucking said than motherfucking done, I know. I’m sure you know therapy exists, but uh … do recommend. Other options: have you read Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents? This book changed my life. Us people-pleasers learned it from somewhere. Even if you think “Nah, couldn’t be me,” the tools the book offers for navigating relationships with emotionally immature adults (i.e., a great-aunt-in-law who expects you to make her feel good about her invitation to a child’s third birthday party?) are well worth it.

Here’s what else helped me: make rules and pretend like someone else made them and there’s nothing you can do about it. Call them “traditions” if you want, maybe that plays better with Great Auntie Pisspants. From now on, your kid has one birthday party with her friends and one birthday party with family members. No, you can’t change that just because Great Auntie Pisspants asked you to; it’s a “tradition.” When people complain about your rules-slash-family traditions, instead of the endless smorgasbord of options you are not just willing to consider but actively and preemptively offering in case it’s more convenient for everybody, it starts to get a lot less personal. “I don’t make the rules!” you can say to yourself, even though you 1000000% made the rules and you are the captain now, so Great Auntie Pisspants is going to have to choose between BINGO or your kid’s birthday because you’re not throwing nine birthday parties.

I’m guessing that family shit is not the only place your inclination toward making other people happy at your own expense causes you grief. Good news: you can make rules/traditions about all kinds of nonsense. Here are some I’ve had over the years: I “can’t” give people rides; I “can’t” bake; I “can’t” watch Woody Allen movies. I “always” have my phone on do-not-disturb on weekends; I “always” spend at least one winter holiday at home; I “always” avoid highways at rush hour. I don’t know who made the rules (God?) but I can’t break them (I am God, I do what I want, and I don’t want to break my own rules).

You are responsible only for the emotional health and wellbeing of yourself and your child. You and your kiddo are the two people who matter most. You cannot keep everyone else happy, and you should not try.

#good advice interlude #family shit #parenting #in-laws #people pleasing #emotionally immature adults #fucking dale

[citrus-moonlight]

Woven

- a Bringin' Home the Rain Interlude -

"Bringin' Home the Rain" Master List: [ Part One ] 🌹 [ Part Two: "Salvation is a Deep Dark Well" ] Fandom: MCU - Age of Ultron, Black Panther Pairing: Ulysses Klaue x F Reader Chapters: 1 of 1 Word count: 3.9k Rating: Explicit

Summary: As winter begins to settle in, the darkening days are unexpectedly brightened when you end up with the chance to spend a little more time with Ulysses Klaue.

Summary: Explicit! Rating, Fluff, Christmas Fluff, Smut, Public Teasing, Semi-Public Touching, Yes There's a Bed and Breakfast, Hotel Sex, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, You Have to Be Quiet, Klaue is Still a Menace But He's a Soft Menace, Fingering, Being Held Down, Reference to Edging, Unprotected PIV, Creampie, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation

A/N: So I seem to have written some fluff, and holiday fluff, no less. I mean, it's still smutty fluff, and while I did go back and forth a bit with this, I really just wanted soft!Klaue, and finally reminded myself it's my story and I can write what I want (and apparently in whatever order I want 😂).

Also, yes, this this falls between the next two chapters of "Salvation is a Deep Dark Well" that as of this telling haven't been written yet. However it doesn't affect the rest of the story, it's more of a very self-indulgent interlude, and while I may come back to edit in a few details once chapter two is published, it doesn't change the narrative.

As always thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy this slightly late holiday fluff. ❤️

Header by me, banners/dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics. ❤️

[ A03 Link ]

Shades of early December silver and grey are rapidly setting over the landscape, the dark even faster.

Although the sun doesn’t set much earlier than it would if you were in New York City (ten minutes to be exact), being in the mountains makes it seem as though it does, and as the days tick by you find yourself craving a bit of light.

The holidays are coming, so you take the excuse to drape a strand of lights over your dresser, the soft glow helping to warm the nights a little. 

Still, you’re quickly becoming bored of winter, and it's only exacerbated by the new loneliness that works its way between your ribs when Klaue is gone - which is, of course, most of the time. You can only fill your days with so much work, and now that snow is settling into the mountains your options for distraction are growing limited.

Among your searches for things to occupy you, holiday festivals come up, and after a little more investigation you discover that Bucharest has a Christmas market that happens to be the largest winter festival in Romania, with the opening night and tree lighting ceremony this coming weekend.

Klaue wasn’t supposed to be getting back for a couple more days and while you’d mentioned your plans to him, when you step onto the train platform you nearly trip over your boots when you recognize a familiar form. 

Your stomach flips and something else swirls lower when you see him standing among the other passengers, hands in the pockets of a heavy black wool coat.

He hasn’t seen you yet so you make your way over to him, staying just behind his shoulder.

“Come here often?” 

Klaue turns with a start, appearing as though he’s about to say something but his words falter when his eyes catch on your bundled form.

A coy grin slowly curves your lips at catching him off guard.

“Got in a little early, came here straight from the airport to see if I could catch you.” he finally explains “I’ll still need to make some phone calls, but I’ve freed up the rest of my day. If you’d like some company. But if you- ”

“Of course, yes!” You assure him, a newly familiar warmth in your chest that he met you here, that he’s offering. “How could I not take advantage of you being back early.”

As eager as you are, there’s still a layer of uncertainty. 

It’s the first time you’ve spent any time with Klaue outside of the compound. Not to mention that very little of the time you have spent together has passed while you weren’t desperately wrapped in one another - certainly not a full day.

Though maybe it’s better this way; less time to overthink, less time to anticipate, simply having to adapt to a new situation. You’re good at that, you remind yourself. 

It doesn’t mean that your thoughts aren’t tinged with frustration, because even though he’d only been gone a few days this time your body is already humming with desire as you board the busy train and settle into your seats against the window. 

You manage to watch the scenery for a while, focusing on the mountains and the forests interspersed with other, smaller cities as you approach the capital, but your gaze is steadily drawn back to Klaue while he works across from you. 

Your eyes drift to his mouth, the memory of his growl when you nip and tug at the pouting curve of his lower lip leaving you shifting in your seat.

The motion draws his eyes to your hips before sliding up your body with a knowing look.

The full train douses any chance of much more than heated glances, but as you look around you, you note that the passengers across the aisle seem to be thoroughly engrossed in their own conversations and devices.

And you get an idea.

Appearing to casually adjust your things, you move your coat to your side facing the aisle, bunching it so that it blocks your legs from the view of anyone not standing over you. 

Or sitting across from you.

Klaue’s posture stiffens when he catches the movement of your hand along the seam where your crossed legs meet. 

You keep your arm still so that just your wrist slowly flexes, shivering as your fingers sweep up and over the place between your thighs that’s already warm with arousal, before retracing the path back down again. 

He's utterly still except for the muscles tensing in his jaw, eyes intent on the slow drag of your fingers. 

When he licks his lips your breathing becomes shallower. The gentle tingling in your nerves spreads through your thighs to swirl deep in your core, and you realize you’re rapidly becoming more aroused than you anticipated, and as much as you had thrilled at a chance to tease him you’re going to need to stop.

You hand stills and you take a slow breath to collect yourself, reaching into your bag for your phone hoping to distract yourself for the rest of the ride. But even before you can unlock it a message notification pops up on your screen.

>Who said you could stop?

Your eyes widen, finding Klaue’s gaze sparking blue and expectant when you look up at him. 

Patiently waiting for your phone to disappear back into your bag.

For your fingers return to their activity.

Clearly pleased that your tease has been turned on you, a smug grin on his lips when your eyelids flutter. 

The light touch isn’t enough to get you close, but it’s enough to make you ache, to leave you fighting to suppress the shivers that roll through you with the slick clench of your cunt as you watch his eyes darken.

Glancing down between where his hands rest on his broad thighs you can see the fabric beginning to strain there, the ache deepening at the thought of his stiffening cock, but you’re satisfied at least that he’s not unaffected by your state.

Wrapped up in the haze of sensation you start when the conductor’s voice comes over the speaker to announce that you’ll be coming into Bucharest in less than ten minutes.

Hitching a sigh, the world around you filters back in, and you bite your lip at the realization of what you had been doing, of how easily he once again had you giving in to him, even here.  

Eventually you take your phone back out, trying to calm yourself down before you reach your stop.

It’s late afternoon by the time the bus drops you off at the outskirts of the market grounds, only a brief glimpse of sun left as it slides between the clouds and the horizon, but you still have plenty of time to explore before the tree lighting.

Making your way through the busy streets you take in the festive decorations, a popular restaurant absolutely dripping with evergreen boughs and giant candy canes, innumerable strings of lights already illuminating the streets as dusk settles over the city

As you make your way through the streets, you begin to think that it might have been a better idea to book a hotel room rather than taking the late train back tonight, but it’s too late now, everything is likely booked solid in the area.

If it had just been you then you would have figured something out, found a cheap place on the outskirts of the city, but since Klaue is with you you’re hesitant to ask. On top of not wanting to be presumptuous of his time, while you’ve spent as much time together as you could since that first night, you haven’t woken up next to him before.

You don’t dwell in your conflicted thoughts for long, though, because you nearly get taken out by a group of Hora dancers as you round the corner of a cobblestone street. 

Klaue quickly maneuvers you out of the way of the oblivious dancers lost in their steps, your arms instinctively reaching to tighten around his waist as you laugh at your lack of awareness.

“I've got you,” he chuckles, not letting you go. “Are you alright, darling?”

“Yeah, no, I’m good.” You assure him. “Apparently I need to pay a bit more attention around here. ” 

Being pressed against his body warms you and your eyes can’t help but flick to his mouth again, startled by how badly you want to kiss him right now. 

But you’ve never kissed him when you weren’t, well, naked - or about to be. A heated press of lips when you have to say goodbye, sure, but although you’ve both opened up a bit you’re aware this isn’t exactly the kind of relationship (not that you’re sure you could call it that, exactly) that allows for moments of casual affection.

So instead you smile and tip your chin down, and both of you take a wide berth around the circling dancers. 

But your heart still races when he doesn’t let you go, keeping you tucked against his side as you approach the bustling Square.

The delicious smells of festival food wafting over you are a quick reminder that you haven’t eaten since breakfast, too distracted on the train to think much about it, so as soon as you arrive you make your way to food cottages. 

Spiced kebabs for him and a steaming vegetable stew for you, followed by plum dumplings and papanasi, a kind of cheese donut that has no right to be as good as it is, and the time you’re standing in the square awaiting the lighting of the tree, you’re warm and satisfied. 

A light dusting of snowflakes begins to swirl as the crowd counts down, one section briefly faltering until with a rousing cheer they all light up with the rest, glittering bright. 

It’s bright and beautiful and exactly what you needed, but when you glance up to see Klaue’s reaction you find yourself wishing for a little less light, your cheeks growing hot against the night air when you see that he’s looking at you instead, the glint in his eyes perhaps not entirely a reflection of the lights that surround you.

Afterwards you peruse the eclectic mix of Christmas ornaments, stoneware and other handmade items, sharing a little about your days as you wander between vendors. 

You describe a type of welding certification you’re thinking about getting, even though you’d really only need it if you were working in aerospace tech, and Klaue mentions to you that he’ll be away for an additional few days next month for a conference in Vienna. 

Disappointment jabs between your shoulder blades at the fact that he’ll be gone for longer than you already expected, but there’s a sense of relief, too, that he’s still letting you know about his plans - as much as he can, at least. 

You hadn’t really planned on making any purchases tonight, but at a cottage selling embroidery and needlecraft a crocheted patchwork blanket catches your eye, the woven pattern making you think of tea and honey, of coming in from the cold and being made warm on a dark winter day.  

After collecting your find, Klaue makes a phone call while you double back one more time to pick up some handmade cards to send to a few friends, pocketing the device as you make your way back towards him.

“Ferris wheel, then?” He asks, tilting his head towards the brightly lit ride.

“Yes! Oh, wait..” Pulling out your own phone you ucheck the time. 

“Oh,” you deflate a little. “Actually we should probably start heading to the train station, it’s getting pretty late. Can’t say I’m looking forward to how busy it’ll be.”

“Well, if you wanted to - everything near the market is full, but there’s a place on the other side of the city that has rooms available.”

You stare at Klaue for a moment. Having already dismissed the idea of staying somewhere in Bucharest tonight you’re unable to hide your surprise that he’s suggesting it. Still fighting the thought that you’d be imposing on his time, you mentally point out that he wouldn’t have bothered finding something if he didn't want to.

He raises an eyebrow.

“You really don’t want to take the train back tonight, huh?” You try to joke in an attempt to disguise your eagerness.

He steps slowly toward you, leaning in until the scruff of his beard brushes your cheek.

“I really don’t want to wait much longer to make you come, darling.” 

He must hear the hitch in your breath as you shudder at his words, pulling back to give you a knowing grin.

“Ferris wheel it is, then.”

***

The glittering view as you start to rise is stunning but neither of you manages more than a few cursory glances out the window before you’re moaning into his mouth and he’s sliding a hand between your legs. A pleased sound gritted from his throat when you rock eagerly into his touch, his lips tasting of frost and spiced wine when your tongue slips between them. 

Your own fingers tighten around the heavy fabric of his coat to steady yourself, one hand sliding above the collar to brush over the warm skin there, short shorn hair prickling beneath your fingers when they curl around the back of his neck to pull his mouth more firmly against yours.

Unfortunately it feels like no time at all before the wheel is slowing and Klaue is reluctantly removing his hand from your now aching sex, your hips bucking when he gives you one last firm caress as you come to a stop at the bottom once more.

“I’ll call us a taxi, then?” He breathes against your lips.

“God, yes.” 

A gentle but steady snow is falling by the time you arrive at the small bed and breakfast, the thickening blanket of white softening the glow of multi-coloured lights on the trees outside. 

The owners quickly realize that you have no bags with you, and they’re kind enough to offer some pajamas for you to borrow in the form of sweatpants and shirts.

Unfortunately on the ride over Klaue had received a call about something that requires his attention for a while longer, so you’re currently still clothed and sitting next to him on the bed, your new blanket draped over your legs, 

You’d picked up “Jurassic Park”, the only english book on the small shelf in the common area, and you try to read a bit while he wraps up his business, stealing the occasional glance at him while he works. 

When a hand slides over to squeeze your thigh you shift instinctively into his touch, able to feel the heat of his palm even through the woven fabric.

“Patience, my darling.” He hums, his teasing smile deepening the creases around his eyes.

“Oh, you have no idea how patient I’ve been, Ulysses,” you reply, biting your lip at the soft growl that betrays his own restlessness has you biting your lip. 

As antsy as you are, and while it’s unlikely you would have been able to name it, exactly, you also feel content. Lulled by the shape of him at your side, the sound of Romanian Christmas choir music drifting through the walls, and the electronic tapping from his phone.

Your eyes wander around the room, amused by the volume of kitschy knick knacks and holiday decorations spread across the shelves, including a candle in the form of three Victorian carolers that looks to be many faded years old, yet seemingly never burned. 

While you’re wondering whether the tiny bust paintings hanging by the door are family of the owners or just thrift store finds, Klaue shifts to face you. 

Lifting the edge of the blanket he nudges you over so that you’re both lying on your sides beneath it.

“All done?” You ask as his arms wrap around you, pulling you against him, letting out a pleased sigh when you feel the already stiff ridge of his erection against the swell of your ass.

“Finally.” The word vibrates through you as a hand slides down between your legs, curling around your clothed mound.

You immediately arch into him, reveling in the twin sensations of his fingers pressing damp fabric against your cleft and the slow grind of his hips behind you.

“Even like this I can feel how warm your cunt is.” Klaue rumbles softly. “You’re wet, too, aren’t you?”

“You know I am,” you sigh, trying to keep your voice low. Aware that if you can hear music through the walls it won’t take much to be able to hear you. 

“I should take my time with you. Especially after your...bahaviour on the train.”

HIs hand finds its way under your shirt, and you note the jut of his hips against you when his palm slides over your bra to cup the soft swell of your breast, thumb and forefinger plucking at the stiffening peak of your nipple beneath the fabric.

“Should run my fingers over every inch of your body,” he rasps, an urgency filtering into his movements, into the rough, whispered rush of his words as his fingers reach back down to tug at the waist of your pants. 

Quickly you move to unbutton them, working them down along with your panties as you feel him shifting behind you, and then the hot length of his cock is sliding against your folds, slicking himself with your arousal.

“Should tease this needy little pussy until you're ready to beg.” 

Klaue bites back the last word as he presses the thick head of his cock against your entrance.

“But fuck, I need to feel you come.”

Normally so thorough with you before letting his control slip, Klaue’s bare need has you unraveling and your moan is deep and unexpected when he suddenly sinks into you, a response to the sweet desperation in his voice as much as from the relieving stretch of his cock.  

“I know how much you love to make pretty sounds for me,” he pants in your ear, his large hand kneading the flesh of your hip and thigh. “But you’re going to have to be quiet tonight. Can you do that for me, darling?”

Half-stretched and aching, you somehow manage to swallow your moans, taking a few deep breaths to steady your voice enough to speak.

“Yes.” You finally breathe in a low, half-whisper. ”l’ll be good.”

He nudges deeper and you bite your lip to hold back the sounds that want you to make, that he draws from you so easily now.

“Yes, you will.” Klaue hums against your neck.

The only sounds in the room now are your panted breaths intertwined with the slick sounds of his cock slowly thrusting into you, the gentle creak of the bed frame beneath your shifting bodies.

Suddenly pulling the blanket off of you he grips your ass, pressing you open so that he can see where your tight hole is stretched around him, and while he normally takes his time to relish the sight he only lasts a few more deep strokes before he’s shifting you onto your stomach, his weight and his cock pressing you down into the mattress.

With your pants still bunched around your knees Klaue impatiently nudges your legs apart as best he can before working a hand beneath the curve of your hip and you buck, a squeak slipping from your throat when his fingers find your clit.

His chest heaves against your back, the tight, circling pressure of his fingers firm and insistent as your body swiftly draws taught beneath him. 

Instinctively you try to respond, to roll your hips into his touch as you chase the rough crest of your orgasm but you’re trapped, the broad warmth of Klaue’s body holding you in place as his fingers relentlessly work your clit until your muscles begin to flutter and tighten. 

”There you go” A rough whisper clenched between his teeth. “Let me feel you. Come on, darling, squeeze my cock.”

You try to stay quiet but you can’t help the tremulous whine that escapes your throat as your climax surges through you, Klaue letting more of his weight press into you as your body spasms beneath him, every muscle trembling as you clench hard around his cock.

“Christ you feel so good. Fuck, you’re going to make me come, oh fuck- ”

The tight grip of your cunt seems to be all that he needs tonight because with a sudden hard jerk of his hips you feel the blissful throb as he comes, muffling his own moan against your shoulder as spends himself helplessly inside you.

Klaue continues to grind into you as the pulsing of his cock slows, making sure his cum stays plugged deep in your cunt exactly where he knows you want it, the stroking of his fingers not letting up even as you twitch and gasp beneath him.

“One more, Mot. Please. For me.” 

Your clit flutters at his pleading words, and barely able to hold back your cries, your hand flies up to cover your mouth as he continues to work your swollen bundle of nerves, his hand slippery with your release that leaks out around where he stays buried in you.

Aching and breathless, feeling the muscles of his forearm flexing against your hip, your body finally succumbs to the needy slide of his fingers, muffling your half-swallowed whimpers behind your hand as he expertly coaxes a second, softer orgasm from your oversensitive sex, gravelly praises whispered against your ear as you stiffen and shudder beneath him.

Klaue stays pressed against your back as you both slowly recover, the weight of him warm steady, calming the tremble in your limbs as you float down through the afterglow. 

Eventually you let your fingers fall away from your lips.

“I’m sorry…I couldn’t- I tried to be quiet,” you stammer. “Wanted to be good, I- ” 

“You’re always good for me, darling.” Klaue soothes, pressing his words and lips against your neck, behind your ear. “Always.”

***

After a quick shower you both change into your makeshift pajamas, then turning off the bedside lamps you settle back under the knit blanket, the lights filtering through the curtains casting a warm glow on the walls of your room.

“Come with me.” Klaue mumbles into the crook of your neck.

You were almost asleep, and it takes a moment to realize that he’d spoken.

“Come with…where?” 

“The conference. Vienna. There’s a gala.”

“Are…are you awake?” 

“If you’re asking whether I’ll remember this in the morning, the answer is yes.” Klaue chuckles softly. “You said you’d never been. Beautiful city. Wear a beautiful dress for me.” His voice drops as he pulls you more firmly against him.

You pause, considering, unable to ignore the soft thrill in your chest that he’s willing to share this with you. 

Another thread of your life intertwining with his, invisible threads looping over one another and knotting tight, tugging together into a pattern you’re still trying to bring into focus.

“Alright.” You sense a notch of tension release from Klaue’s body when you finally give him your answer. “I’d like that.”

It’s difficult for you not to overthink, especially when thoughts of what you’re going to do when your contract ends are becoming more persistent every day.

But knowing that you’re going to have to return to reality tomorrow regardless, right now you allow yourself to relax against him. With the tops of his thighs fitting against the backs of yours, soft music floating at the edge of your consciousness and his hand resting warm against your hip, eventually you find yourself caught in a net of sleep and dreams.

A/N: I was looking a little wistfully at all the lovely holiday fics that were coming out, and thinking that I didn't really think I had anything that would really work. Then I got to playing around with a mood board and accidentally inspired myself with Christmas market thoughts, and now here we are!

Thank you for reading, and I hope you get through the remainder of the holiday season with as much light and little stress as possible. ❤️

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all you lovely people!

#ulysses klaue x reader #ulysses klaue x f reader #ulysses klaue x you #ulysses klaue smut #ulysses klaue #x reader #bringin' home the rain series #salvation is a deep dark well fic #woven #holiday fluff #fluffy smut #mcu fanfiction

[sofasoap]

Interlude two : Everyone deserves happiness.

Pairing: König x  f!Reader ( OC aka “Mini” MacTavish ) + Simon " Ghost " Riley

Summary: Bit of family moment. Family love all round. Takes place just after "Thank you for everything."

Warning: T to M theme, slight swearing. A/N : Character of Mini MacTavish is from @saltofmercury fic “ “The Favorite MacTavish” ” which she graciously let me borrow and write bit more expanded universe. Please go read her wonderful story to get bit of background, while you are there, go read her wonderful CoD fics too!

 “masterlist” for more prequel to this Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

“.. You are like a brother to me and Johnny. This will always be your home. I want us to stay as friend. I am so sorry.”

“ I will not hurt her. I love her very much. In fact, I am here today to ask for permission for marriage in the future.” Your head is still reeling from all the events that happened over the Easter weekend at your parent's family farm. A "pre-proposal" and breaking someone else's heart at same time.

"OH I am so happy you are settling down, I was losing hope on your brother to bring me a grandchild or a partner. He is not getting any younger!" Your Ma gushes as you two were doing dishes.

" Ah Ma, you know Johnny... I doubt he can settle down anytime soon with his flirtatious nature.. Just let him be." You know Johnny too well. The Casanova. While he is very respectable towards his interest, you doubt your brother will find his ONE anytime soon. He seems to be enjoying all the attention. " He is just like your Da when he was younger.. Chasing all the girls around their skirt.." Your Da? the calm and quiet and serious Da? You can't imaging. You burst out in a fit of giggle.

"How about you Simon? Anyone caught your eyes or interest?" Your Ma being a nosy body. Ghost hand paused in the air putting the dishes away, and you two look at each other. ' Ma, don't be so nosy. I'll make sure to find a nice lady for my big brother here." you bump his bicep with your head after finishing rinsing the last dishes, trying to end the subject. Ghost smiled down at you. The pain is still there, but you can see the slight change. " I think your cousin Alex's older sister is still single the last time I was talking to her Ma during Christmas gathering..." " MA PLEASE." Both you and Ghost rolled eyes. "Fucken Steaming Jesus, why is it still so cold outside." You heard Johnny complaining as the men coming through the back door. Your Da and Johnny was showing König around the farm. " Languages Johnny!" " Sorry Ma." You put on a kettle to get ready to brew some tea. You push Simon to the table to sit down with the boys. " Go. Thanks for helping." Walking over to your.. boyfriend?fiancé? (technically he hasn't propose to you yet) you gave him a kiss on the cheek after waving him to bend down a little. Still not use to PDA , he blushes and pick your hand up and give it a kiss. " Hello teddy bear, how was the tour?" "Good.."

" I am surprised he is pretty knowledgeable how the farm runs." Your Da mentioned.

" I.. I use to spend summer holidays at my Oma and Opa's farm up in the mountain... I use to... um, still do help them with works when I go back...." "OH good, extra pair of hand to help around so Da won't work me overtime like a slave everytime I come back." " Don't be so lazy Johnny." You smack your brother on the head as you serve up tea and scones. " Be nice to your brother." " Yae be nice to me Mini." "I’ll gie ye a skelpit lug!"

Ghost sits there, sipping on his tea and observe the family interaction. He feels like an outsider intruding this intimate moment. He longs to feel the love and bond that he never really get to experiences as a child. "Come on, Simon, help me out here. She's being nasty to me." " You asked for it." Taking another sip of tea, Ghost shows absolutely no sympathy towards Soap. " See? Even he agrees." you stick your tongue out.

" You should hear him in action. Wouldn't shut up over the com."

" Pahh. this crabbit is even worse. The bad jokes I had to endure." " ... I .. I think those jokes are funny.. " König pips up timidly.

" Three to one Johnny." You fold your arm across the chest and puffed. Ghost is going to miss all this when life goes back to normal.

" Got everything?" You look around your bedroom, checking for anything you forgot to pack. "I think... So." " Alright let's go." König picks up both of your luggages and heading towards the front door. Simon and Johnny already there at the front, your Ma was in deep talk with Simon while your Da and Johnny was checking something out on the phone beside them. You see Simon listening intensely to what your Ma had to say, as she has serious expression on her face and patting his hand makes you wonder what they were talking about. Finally she pulls him down for a hug which Simon returns with slight hesitance. The boys heading back to work immediately for next mission, you had to say goodbye to all three of them before you leaving on different flight, back to London while they flying over to the continent. You tearfully say your farewell to König, as is everytime for long distance relationship, saying goodbye was never easy. He promise to visit you again as soon as possible, with even prospect of visiting his family in Austria and show you around his grandparents' farm. König glancing side way, noticing Ghost and Soap is talking amongst themselves and not looking at your way, he bend over, pull his mask down and gave you a quick kiss, while wiping your tears away. " I will see you soon Liebling, I promise." He whispers. He hates seeing you cry. you nodded your head, he pull you in for one last tight hug before you went for final hugs with Ghost and Soap. You have no idea the next time all three of you see each other again was in dire circumstance. "...What did my Ma say to you?" " ... She said I am welcome anytime to your house..." " You know you are always welcome." " ... she said she sees me as another son that she didn't give birth to." " Simon, I respect you as a commander , a colleague and also as a brother from different mother right? Mini loves having you around as well. You ARE part of my family." " Thanks Johnny." " Besides, I need someone to help me to keep an eye on König." "... I think it might be the other way round. König probably get hassled by Mini than he does to her." "... That is true."

Farout I am making this chapter more into broken heart Ghost than König x reader fic lol ooops. I just want to round off his feeling for Mini, moving on from unrequited love onto family big brother love.

I am slowly easing Ghost into the MacTavish family household...trying very hard not to make it too forced. This boy deserves happiness and i WILL GIVE HIM HAPPINESS even in this König route ( and even though I hurt the poor boy with rejection...) I am imagining both König and Ghost are comfortable enough not to wear mask/face covering in private setting with their family.

#könig #könig call of duty #könig x reader #könig x you #könig x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon riley #john soap mctavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish