#they just hang out with each other for the next couple of hundred years and occasionally get married | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

watermelonsugacry · 10 months

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Could you do a blurb showing how Harry and 1dbandmate!yn reacted over the years when asked in interviews if they were a couple?? please 🙏

Always Asked

A/N: been in a writing funk lately but i'm happy i got this one done since i miss writing and posting to you all!! 💚

SUMMARY: Snippets of interviews over the years from when YN and Harry were asked if they were dating. (3.4k)

GENRE: 1dbandmate!yn, famous!yn

SINCE 2010 masterlist

2011:

Never in a million years did YN ever think her dream career would start so soon. It’s only been a year since she auditioned for the XFactor and now she’s sitting at a table next to her bandmates as hundreds of fans go down the line to get a copy of their freshly signed album.

With copious amounts of screaming comes along an abundance of questions thrown at the teenagers. Most of the time, it’s YN giving the screaming fans a beautiful smile, asking them how they are, and thanking them for their kind words before passing the signed CD case to Harry. With all the excitement in the air, she feels like she’s truly living the pop star lifestyle she’d seen many others live out.

“Hiya, love,” YN smiles at the preteen girl who’s practically vibrating with excitement at seeing the famous band. She also gives a polite greeting to the supportive dad of the young girl who has his hands on his daughter’s shoulders. “How are you? I love your shirt.”

She compliments, smiling at seeing the young girl wearing a shirt with YN’s face on it.

“My dad got it for me for my birthday!” The little fan beams.

“Did he?” YN animatedly gasps with a smile. “Well, it was nice of him to take you over here, yeah?”

She signs the CD case with a heart over her name before sliding it over to Harry. His fingers brush over hers and the two of them catch each other’s gaze. A smile tugs on their lips before looking away just as quickly.

“Are you two dating?” The young girl practically screams out, her eyes bouncing back and forth excitedly between YN and Harry.

The two teenagers tense up, thrown off by the question in such a crowded place. Their management team is still media-training them and while they’ve learned so much already, they’re still getting used to taking what they’ve learned out into the field.

YN and Harry give each other a look, already knowing the answer but searching in one another’s eyes for maybe a smidge of something more.

“Lilly!” The dad scolds before letting out a chuckle. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” YN shakes her head with a smile, hoping it's convincing enough to not cause any suspicion. “Sorry Lilly, but Harry and I aren’t dating because quite frankly—” She beckons the little fan closer, cupping her mouth but still being loud so her bandmate can hear, “—he has cooties.”

Harry’s immediately furrowing his brows together and lets out a long and playful, “Hey!”

“Ew!” Lilly laughs, seeming satisfied with that answer before waving goodbye and walking towards the rest of the band.

Before they can dwell on what just happened, thankfully the next fan shuffles over for their own interaction and signed copy.

2012:

The band is at their first Brits Awards show and needless to say, they all got a little tipsy after their win. Their team didn’t even have time to give them a snack or water bottle to help sober them up a little bit before their backstage press interviews.

“Harry, how will you guys be celebrating tonight?” A journalist asks from the crowd.

“Erm,” Harry giggles to himself and it makes YN tipsily follow from her spot next to him. The hand that isn't gripping onto their award goes to cover her smile. “I think we’re just gonna hang out and stuff.”

“YN? Is there any lucky man whom you will be celebrating with?” Another voice in the sea of reporters asks.

“Nope,” YN raises her eyes with a tipsy smile and a slow shake of her head. She shakes her thumb towards her boys with a click of her tongue. “Just these lads.”

“Any lucky lad in particular? Perhaps a curly-headed one standing next to you?”

Almost as if it was planned, the two teenagers comically look beside each other, cranking their necks in playful search of who the intrusive lady was referring to.

“Me?” Harry dramatically questions, pointing to his chest with a bright, open-mouthed, dimpled smile gracing his face.

“Well, I mean he is part of the band, is he not?” YN sassily purses her lips together, her media-training to retain her “good girl” image slipping out of her alcohol induced brain.

Thankfully, before anything could be escalated further by the tipsy girl, the intrusive press, or the snickering boys, a member from their management team instructs the audience to move onto another person.

2013:

“You guys have known each other for what seems like forever now and your bond with the rest of the guys is so strong...”

YN reaches forward for a sip from her glass of water on the panel table in her seat in between Harry and Niall. It’s been a long week for the band as they do press for their new movie, This Is Us. They’ve been thrown left and right with interviews that YN can’t help but already be done with the repetitiveness of some of the questions.

“So then we’re all clearly curious to know if you and Harry are dating?”

“Nope,” YN pops the ‘P’ and shakes her head as if her actions were automatically programmed to respond in that way. She casually waves her finger between the two boys beside her, “But him and Niall are though.”

The crowd of press people laugh and chuckle as they see Naill gasp and Harry raise his eyebrows in playful shock.

“I mean, you kinda pointed it out,” YN puts on her media-trained smile good enough to win an Oscar. “These lads are like my brothers and our bond is so strong because we see each other more like family than anything else. I see them more as annoying than someone I'd rather date, to be honest,” she forces out a light laugh.

“Plus, as YN so kindly pointed out,” Harry leans on his elbows on the table as he looks to his crush next to him. YN can see his dimple dig into his cheek as he fights off a smirk. “M’happily in a committed relationship with Niall.”

Harry doesn’t take his eyes off of his bandmate as he leans back into his seat. He watches as she tucks her chin into her chest, her fingers rubbing over her lips to cover her giggle as the rest of the room breaks out in commotion.

2014:

“Can we assume that the rock on your finger is from a certain curly-headed lad?” The woman who’s interviewing them for the band’s new book Who We Are excitedly asks.

The band are all sat on an L-shaped couch as they discuss the contents of the hard cover book. Sat in between Zayn and Niall, YN purposely avoids her gaze from Harry as she answers.

“No,” YN lets out a forced chuckle as she looks down to fidget with the diamond ring on her finger. Anyone who has looked at more than three pictures of YN can tell that her favorite pieces of jewelry are her assortment of rings along her fingers. But only true fans know that part of her liking to the small jewelry is to help her fidget with them when she has anxiety. It’s an odd feeling however that the newly gifted one has been the cause of her increase in nerves. “It’s um, from me boyfriend—well, fiancé now—Matthew. Harry is like a brother to me so that would be quite weird.”

“Of course! I was only teasing, love.” The woman laughs with an over-exaggerated smile, clearly disappointed in the answer she was given. “Congratulations to you both.”

“Thank you,” YN forces a smile, still twisting at the shiny ring that sticks out like a sore thumb.

2015:

“YN.”

“James.” She says with the same amount of playful seriousness, the audience in front of them laughs along. As the date of the band’s long-awaited hiatus comes closer and closer, their good friend James Corden interviews them in the same location where they filmed the music video for Story of My Life.

“Harold,” the host directs his attention to the band member sitting next to her.

The fans in the crowd only giggle in giddiness even further as Harry playfully throws a hand up in confusion with what the fans call his ‘frog’ smile.

“Now, we are all truly devastated when we heard the news that you and your long-time partner had called it quits a couple of weeks ago.” The audience laughs when James comically shakes his head no. YN even lets out a laugh when she sees the fans in the audience cheer at the news of her new relationship status. Despite the support she feels from the fans, it doesn’t necessarily calm the nerves at why the host brought the topic up in the first place. “Now we’re also all wondering if this may have possibly opened up, I don’t know, an opportunity for you to seek something with another lad?”

“Um,” YN lazily holds her microphone to her lips as she gives James the news that will hopefully shut down the conversation. “I think m’gonna just focus on myself for a bit. Yeh know, take a break from dating and all that.”

The room breaks out into chuckles when the host makes noises like he doesn’t believe her. He wags his interview cards in the air as he says, "I mean, both of your writing credits on some love songs tell me otherwise..."

Truthfully, the two friends can't deny that logic. They've either individually or co-wrote a plethora of love songs...that may or may not have been about each other. But will they ever admit that to a room full of their fans who have been shipping them since their XFactor days? Hello no.

“Well, the beauty that YN and I see in music is that songs are always up for interpretation," Harry interjects. "They can mean anything you want them to be, in any sort of scenario.”

“Yeah, like, lyrics don’t always necessarily have to come from a place of experience,” YN adds on, professionally keeping her voice from wavering in nervousness. “It certainly helps but that’s not always the case. Especially now.”

She can’t help but laugh along with the rest of the crowd as James holds an expression like he doesn’t believe a word they said.

“Okay, fine. Deny it all you want,” James puts his hands up defensively. “I just...I don’t know, I just think that this could really be Something Great.”

The room of fans (and die hard ynrry shippers) squeal and scream out in a mixture of excitement and disbelief from his use of the One Direction songs that are heavily speculated to be about YN and Harry.

“Whatever, it’s your guy’s decision at the End of the Day,” James continues nonchalantly, trying to hide the smile that shows that he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Fans’ eyes bounce back and forth between the two band members in question. They see as YN has her hands clasped together on her crossed legs, biting the inside of her cheek to keep her witty comments to herself. Harry, on the other hand, leans his elbow on his knee with his index finger over his smirk. He tries to cover up his chuckle with a cough to his fist before pushing back his long curls.

“All we want is for you guys to live Happily ever after, is all.”

2017:

“Now, both of you little sneaky sneaks went to Jamaica together to make his album. Come on, tell me I’m wrong,” Nick Grimshaw teases, wiggling his fingers in a beckoning motion.

The two were currently on BBC Radio with their good friend that they’ve known since their days in the band. Dropping their first solo albums in the same week caused their fan bases to go into a frantic frenzy. The two have a full day ahead of them as their record labels and management teams paired the two up for a day jam-packed with press and interviews together.

“You are not wrong,” Harry laughs, adjusting the chunky headphones over his ears. He’s already rolled up his white button-up sleeves and discarded his picnic table-looking blazer to lay on the back of his chair.

“Sneaky sneaks?” YN chuckles next to him, leaning her elbows on the counter and moving her hips to rotate her swiveling seat from side to side.

“Well, I only say that because you guys are obviously dating now, right?”

“Do girl and guy best friends always have to be dating?” YN easily swerves the question back to the radio host.

“Well,” Grimmy tilts his head from side to side. “Not necessarily, but wouldn’t that be a good story? For your future kiddos perhaps?”

YN and Harry bark out a laugh.

“Sorry, m’getting ahead of myself. Maybe you lads would want to save that for your wedding day instead.”

“Can I swear on the radio?” YN playfully yet genuinely asks the host which makes Harry giggle.

“But I mean, what are your fans—and quite frankly, the rest of the world—supposed to think when a good majority of the songs on his album are about you, Miss Two Ghosts?” Nick teases with a wiggle of his eyebrow.

YN’s jaw humorously drops, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as a nervous laugh threatens to escape. The two knew that they would get poked and pried with questions and accusations like this since their trip to Jamaica. There’s no use in trying to deny their close relationship with one another, spending more time with one another than any of their fellow band members since the start of the hiatus.

Unable to quickly come up with an explanation, being so caught off guard, she turns to the only other person she can trust.

“Jenny?” YN playfully calls for her manager who’s behind the glass window of the radio studio, leaning forward to look at her despite Harry in the way.

“Help me, Jeffery,” Harry playfully pleads to his manager as well.

“No, no Jeffery. Jenny, get back in your chair, young lady.” Nick points out for the listeners who can’t see what’s currently happening. “Alright, I’ll stop, I’ll stop,” The host waves his hands, seeing the two visually calm down at the news. “Now, I’ll just play the one Harry wrote about YN. This is Two Ghosts!”

Harry playfully yells out an “Oh, no!” as he pushes himself away from the desk. YN lets out a humored scream at the same time, taking off her chunky radio headphones and tossing them onto the desk.

2020:

“Okay, a big question that I’ve been getting on Twitter since it was announced that the two of you would be on here today,” Roman Kemp waves a hand in front of him at the Capital FM Breakfast Radio headquarters as he looks onto the two pop stars in front of him on the Zoom call. The couple can be seen in two separate rooms: Harry in a naturally lit room while YN sits against one of the brick walls in her bedroom.

Harry has his purple robe on that his girlfriend gifted him a couple of years ago, looking as comfy as ever since he doesn’t have to get dressed up to go outside for anything lately due to being on lockdown.

YN on the other hand, didn’t want to miss the opportunity to get dolled up. Well, at least from the waist up. She wears one of her silk button-up blouses with her last name embroidered on the left chest, her hair neatly done up in a slick ponytail and her make-up nicely done. When she got complimented on her look, she clumsily lifted her leg up to show off her heart-decorated, fluffy pajama pants.

“And I feel like both of your fan bases combined would come out of quarantine to quite literally murder me if I don’t ask you guys this...” YN and Harry keep a mutual face on as they wait to hear what the host has to say. “We all know that you guys are an official couple now, but are you guys physically staying together at the moment? Like, are you guys living together or at the same house or...?”

The couple takes a second to process the intimate question. As Harry parts his lips to answer, he’s interrupted by his girlfriend speaking first.

“Y’know, we’re kind of tired of getting questions like this. I don’t think it’s really appropriate for other people to know about that kind of stuff,” The crease between YN’s eyebrows becomes more apparent and her shoulders move sharply after letting out a deep sigh.

“Oh, I-I’m so sorry if I offended you guys—” The radio host quickly begins to retract.

“M’sorry but I think m’actually gonna log off now. Erm, thank you for having us.” YN curtly nods before the host and Harry’s faces fill the screen, both with wide eyes at the unexpected reaction from the go-happy pop star.

“Wait, did that really just happen?” Roman and the other two interviewers are deers in headlights, his eyes bouncing around the screen to make sure what just took place.

“I think so,” Harry sighs. “It’s just a sensitive topic for us, y’know. I can’t really blame her for what she did,” He professionally hides his smile as he hears the quick pad of footsteps coming down her spiral staircase.

“I really meant no harm, it’s just—”

“It’s just really hard to keep our private life private, you know?” Harry drags on with a deep sigh. “And it's just really hard for us to have to answer things like this. Like, we don’t really know what you guys expect us to do when...” Harry’s dimples dig into his cheeks, a boyish giggle comes tumbling past his lips when YN peaks her head sideways in front of his laptop camera.

“YN!” Romans scolds with a bright smile, infinitely relieved he didn’t just make enemies with the world’s favorite female pop star. He dramatically throws a hand over his heart.

“Sorry, I’m sorry! It was just too good and Ro, I think you’re the only one that would be able to handle a joke like that.” YN laughs as she slides in close to her comfy-looking boyfriend.

“So I’m assuming this confirms my previous question?” The host asks excitedly.

“Yeah,” Harry smiles fondly at his love, discreetly wrapping an arm around her waist that’s low enough to not be shown on camera. “We’ve been living at YN’s place in LA for a couple of weeks now. And yeah, it’s been fun.”

2022:

In a full black suit, Harry is escorted to the next interviewer on the red carpet for the premiere of My Policeman. After a couple of initial questions, the eager woman asks, “Last thing before you get whisked away, on behalf of the fandom and everyone else on this planet, we just want to send a massive amount of love to you and YN.”

“Thank you very much,” He nods, putting a hand over his heart and trying his hardest to keep the growing smile on his face at bay.

“And we are all just dying to know,” She takes a quick, excited glance back to the camera. “If you’re going to drop the big question soon?”

Harry can’t help but huff out a laugh, the kind where his dimples dig into his cheeks and the crows feet appear next to his eyes. If they only knew that YN kept the ring he gave her—the ring that signifies their promise to become husband and wife on their anniversary—at home for the sake of privacy and for this very reason.

“Um,” He looks up in fake contemplation before giving her a cheeky shrug. “I dunno. Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows?”

“Well, best of luck to you both.”

After being escorted away, the camera doesn’t stop filming Harry as he goes over to stand next to his fiancée on the red carpet. Although the camera can’t pick up what YN says to Emma Corin that makes the actress laugh, her beaming smile turns to Harry when she feels his hand on her back. He can’t hold back from planting a loving peck on her cheek before the two are escorted to their next section on the red carpet.

2023:

On a show in Cardiff, Harry adjusts a flag on his shoulder as he walks around the catwalk on stage. As he begins to sing Satellite, he makes a stop to sing to a group by the barricade.

It’s nothing new to YN and Harry’s respective shows when fans bring signs with something on it to get the artists’ attention. Honestly, it’s become one of the parts of the show they look forward to the most.

So when Harry’s eyes move over to a newly raised sign that says ‘shag?’ on it, he breaks out into a smirk. Part of the fun of when fans bring signs is that there’s always a handful that asks these sorts of questions: Are you single? Can I have your number? Are you dating?

It’s not so much the content written on the signs that makes the interaction so enjoyable; it’s the response that he gives.

Because all Harry does is break out into that dimpled, love sick smile that YN can’t get enough of and happily points to his wedding band.

Taglist:

@ashtongivesmebutterflies @cacapeepee

(let me know if you want to be added to the taglist 💚)

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monzamash · 1 year

Text

unless you like that — daniel ricciardo

summary – it’s events season and the alcohol is flowing. rating – a whole lotta smut 18+ (sex scene, course language, drinking) pairing – daniel ricciardo x you (female reader) word count – 3.8k of absolute filth a/n – bit of plot but mostly just sex because drunk, flirty danny ric makes me feral. that's it. enjoy the ride. masterlist

All you wanted to do was drag Daniel back to your hotel room, get reacquainted after a couple of torturous weeks of being apart, maybe run a hot bath and enjoy the rest of your night in peace.

In your dreams.

You never really had Daniel for long during the season and because of that, you wanted to make the most of your time actually being in the same country, let alone the same city. But your handsome, social butterfly of a boyfriend had other ideas – ones that didn’t factor in your desire to have him all to yourself.

So good to see ya too, mate.

We’ve gotta catch up next time you’re in LA, man.

Maaaate, long time no see!

How’s ya mum going? Tell her I said hi.

The mum's bloody loved themselves a bit of Daniel Ricciardo.

The long, doting line of people wanting to wish Daniel good luck for next year and praising his strength through adversity while getting a sneaky selfie was never ending. To put it plainly, it was obnoxious but you were used to it now. He was effervescent, charismatic – a big ‘ol magnet to anyone and everyone. You loved him endlessly, admired his ability to smile through the pain even more but all you wanted to do was say goodnight to everyone and leave.

Barely two words were shared before you were whisked off in a car and through the doors of this swanky restaurant – the private function room and bottomless champagne making it less excruciating.

“All I can think about is getting this over and done with so I can come back here and rip this unbelievably beautiful dress off you.”

Those ‘barely two words’ were enough ammunition to last you a couple of hours, holding onto the hope of that promise coming true. But right now you had to try and enjoy the night and put any filthy thoughts you may or may not be having aside for the sake of your own sanity. Smile and wave.

You didn’t know exactly what the party was for but you knew that the McLaren team were the ones throwing it from the obnoxious amount of orange balloons hanging from the ceiling – and that Daniel was obliged to attend. But you would never have guessed that he was there as a contractual obligation the way he floated through the room, saying hello to every last individual, bright smile adorning his face. He made each and every person feel like a million bucks. That’s why they loved him, because he made them feel at ease – like he was one of them.

Daniel didn’t think there was a whole lot for him to be celebrating but he always underestimated how loved he was by McLaren – racing problems aside, he was adored by the staff who were devastated to see him leaving.

And somehow in a room of nearly a hundred people, he knew nearly everyone by name, zeroing in long enough to have them eating out of the palm of his hand.

Your words, not his.

“Could you say hello to my grandson – he loves you.” An older lady asked, phone locked and loaded for the video. God help him if he said no.

“Absolutely.”

Of course he said yes. That was the kind of person Daniel was. Not a people pleaser or a push over – just a genuinely nice guy with more patience than anyone you’d ever known.

After making your way around most of the room, you finally had a second to drink in your man. The freshly steamed, light blue linen shirt was lazily buttoned over his shoulders, leaving a the tiniest bit of chest hair showing for good measure and to tease you, no doubt. He’d gone for his classic black skinny jeans sitting atop a pair of shiny black dress shoes look that you loved and those wild curls that you’d spent hours twirling between your fingers flowed onto his forehead – he looked so fucking good.

His charm and kindness always had you singing his praises and you made sure he knew how wonderful he was, how attractive he was. Your soft whispers of admiration had his heart pumping as he took a sip of his Chateau Margaux red, lips quirked in a smile. “So sexy.”

“Which part of all that was sexy? The bit where I filmed a video for that women’s grandkid? You are an absolute deviant if that’s makin’ ya feel a certain way, my girl.”

Daniel loved to tease, especially when it garnered that kind of reaction. Rolling eyes, flushed cheeks and a gentle shove in the arm. He fucking lived for it.

“No, dickhead.” You scolded under your breath, “Just… you being you. I don’t know what it is.”

You couldn’t put your finger on it but you knew how it made you feel. Seduced.

“Maybe you can figure it out in our hotel room.”

Daniel shrugged with a smirk lining his lips, nonchalantly throwing out the idea as if he hadn’t been plotting a way to leave the party early. Wishing for nothing more than to have you praising his other set of skills, if you catch my drift. Rolling your eyes with flushed cheeks but in a very different context. He was twitching at the thought as his fingertips lightly scratched at the silky material covering your ribs, dragging your body closer to his.

“Don’t tempt me, Ricciardo. All I’ve wanted since the second we got here was to leave so don’t talk a big game if you can’t deliver.” You were whispering in his ear, hoping to spur on those scheming eyes staring back at you.

“When have I not delivered? Just call me FedEx,” He joked, swaggering away from the bar and waving to Lando who had just rocked up with his crew in tow.

“Do we even know what this party’s for?” Lando asked over the loud music blasting through the speakers, taking the smallest step back after he gave us both a hug hello.

Lando looked dapper compared to his usual hoodie and track pants ensemble that he'd wear around the track. He was slightly confused by the overt extravagance he’d walked into but he was always smiling your way, making you feel welcome. You were going to miss his cheekiness and the way he brought out a different side to Daniel. Mischief always seemed to follow those two.

“Probably just a way for McLaren to swing their dick around before the end of the season,” Daniel shrugged, completely oblivious to how crude his comment was. Thankfully Lando was more than used to it now after working so closely with him so you didn’t have to apologise on Daniel’s behalf.

“The wine’s ace though.” He quickly added.

“You would say that,” Lando replied, snickering quietly as he looked over at the bar, “Might actually grab a drink and come back. Want anything?"

Lando looked between you and Daniel as you both shook your heads until he turned away and disappeared into the crowd, “Kid’s not gonna know what hit him next year – being the golden boy isn’t what it’s cracked up to be…”

You nodded and watched Daniel’s eyes following Lando, pensively taking a sip of his wine before sighing and glancing back to you, “What?”

“Nothing,” You tutted, “It’s funny how much you care about him now after how rocky the relationship was in the beginning. I love that he’s softened you a little bit, made you less of a prick.” You winked.

The insincere insult tacked onto the end made Daniel’s thick eyebrows rise with faux hurt, an exaggerated gasp masterfully added for emphasis, “Me? A prick? I wouldn’t reckon a prick snags a girl like you.”

You watched as Daniel sculled the rest of his wine, a devilish smirk hiding behind the large glass, “No chance. Unless you like that.”

“I don’t hate it.”

Daniel's laugh was dark as he took a step forward, lessening the gap between the two of you before reaching up and brushing your hair over your shoulder, “Now you’re tempting me and that’s not fair.” He whispered into your ear, carefully placing his empty glass on the table beside you.

“Nothings really fair though, is it? You having to be here instead of buried deep inside me, fucking me until I –”

“The bar line’s a fucking ‘mare,” Lando loudly interrupted and caused you to jump back from Daniel’s side. You steadied yourself on his hip for balance as you watched Lando plot his next move.

“Oh, there’s Charlotte – she’ll have an in!”

You and Daniel politely nodded again while he shot off in the other direction, and the two of you shifted away from the middle of the room, out of view of prying eyes and into a private nook. Daniel was quick to pin you up against the wall, large hand pressing into your hip as you looked up at him with innocent eyes. He could see right through you.

“Don’t give me that look,” He growled, eyes narrowed. “Look at what you do to me.”

His whispered words and flickering eyes encouraged your hands that were playing with his slightly parted shirt to travel further south, fingertips tracing over his dark denim jeans that were a lot tighter than when he first got here. Almost too tight.

“You are fuckin’ cruel, sweetheart.”

The painfully hard outline pressing against your palm intoxicated your already foggy mind, mouth watering. You could feel your thighs magnetically pulling together as his thumb flicked the dimple in your chin, forcing you to look into his dark, misty eyes that were watching your every move.

"Want me to do something about it?" It was a bold question to ask, a dangerous one, even when you noticed his eyes change colour. They were blacker than the night sky now.

Daniel was exasperated, anguished by the question as he smiled and dipped his forehead onto yours. The answer was obviously “abso-fucking-lutely, get down on your knees and show me you love me” but he knew better. And so did you. Still, the warm puff of air from his laugh still sent surging chills down your arched spine, needy for his touch.

“I hate sayin’ no to you,” He rasped and closed his eyes for a fleeting moment, “Especially when I know how fucking good you feel but no. You can't.”

You dryly chuckled and brushed your hands over his puffed out chest, “Must be absolute torture, my boy. Thankfully I can hide how I’m feeling – you? Not so much.” You replied with gritted teeth and a shrug, smirk dancing on your lips.

“Yeah, you’re fuckin’ in for it later, mate.” He playfully retorted before pulling himself from your grasp and leaving you with what he thought was a threat, but what you took as a promise you hoped to God he would keep. You were soaked. to. the. core.

The expensive champagne continued to flow freely for hours and several glasses of wine later had you and Daniel fumbling around at your hotel room door, unsure whether you’d arrived at the right number and having absolutely no idea where the key card you barely remembered giving him had gone. It also didn’t help that Daniel’s lips hadn’t left the crook of your neck while you dug through your clutch, his fingers inching closer to danger with every passing second.

“Lemme see your pockets,” You huffed and shoved your hand into his jeans pocket, causing a loud shriek to slip from his lips.

“You’re just tryin’ to touch my dick!” He shouted, louder than he expected and definitely louder than you accepted as appropriate, even in your drunken stupor, "You can if ya want."

“Shuuuush!” You hissed, trying not to laugh as Daniel gazed up at the ceiling and reached into his back pocket, searching until his eyes lit up with excitement. “Ah-huh!”

“Thank god – now hurry up and fuck me please!” You whisper-yelled, praying for the sweet sound of a door unlocking.

“Alright, ya horn-bag. Give me a sec- ond… Shit!” Daniel paused and looked back at you with wide eyes, “Wrong room.”

You could faintly hear the sound of footsteps behind the large door in front your shocked face. Before you could even muster a response to his mortifying revelation, Daniel had you in his grasp, dragging you down the hallway, panting and hoping he had a plan. He always did.

“Room 1001 – not 1011,” He coughed through his laughter, hovering the keycard over the lock and finally revealing the room we’d left nearly 5 hours ago, “Home sweet home.”

“Shut up,” You mumbled, throwing your arms over his shoulders and jumping into his embrace. Daniel groaned at your sudden burst of energy and hoisted you up on his waist, mouths instantly attached and desperately trying to defy physics.

Your vision was blurry when you pulled away for air, lips still touching, noses knocking and your hands still roaming the expanse of Daniel’s broad shoulders. You could feel him moving you further into the room that was spinning, the ceiling fan still whirring above your head. That was the first thing you saw when you landed on the messy hotel bed and left for dead by Daniel who was chuckling at the foot, watching you lay back in defeat.

“I’m stupidly drunk.” You huffed.

Daniel nodded as you looked up at him through hooded eyes, “So, so drunk.”

“Not that drunk.”

Your pointed finger and wiggling eyebrows told him exactly what you were referring to, lip bite and dark eyes forever selling you out.

“Take off your pants.” You ordered.

Daniel’s grin dropped into a smirk as you propped yourself up on your elbows, encouraging your boyfriend to give you a little show. Tipsy or not, Daniel knew what you wanted and he’d move heaven and earth to give you whatever you asked for. A heat rushed across his chest as he gazed down at you, undressing for him. The silky satin dress slipped off a lot easier than it went on, a detail not going unnoticed by Daniel who was slowly unbuttoning his shirt, moaning at the sight of your white lacy thong that you knew he loved.

“Killing me.”

“You love it, baby.”

“I live for it.”

The banter was hot, if not hotter than the actual sex. Foreplay was your forte but you weren’t in a ‘building a narrative’ kind of mood. It was primitive now – the primal need for a release outweighing the desire to fuck around with each other. That was the kind of fun best saved for the morning. You were already looking forward to that.

“Look how wet I am for you, Danny.”

Daniel growled as he kicked his jeans off, boxer briefs attached as they flung across the room, discarded with his wrinkled linen shirt. He stood for a moment – naked, painfully hard and begging to be touched before crawling up onto the California king. You could feel him throbbing as he brushed up on your inner thigh, legs open and wrapped around his waist in a matter of seconds. Lips attached again, frenziedly needing for more.

“Give it to me.” You pathetically pled.

“I wanna taste first.”

You resented his love for you in that moment. Resented that he wanted to indulge in what you had to offer, when all you wanted was the main course. The sharp huff that slipped from your lips made Daniel chuckle into your inner thigh, sloppy kisses followed by tiny nibbles, undeniably revving you up but also making the pout on your face that much more noticeable.

“You’re sexy even when you’re mad,” He almost slurred, closing the gap between you and his indescribably proficient tongue. Hot breath fanning over what you could only imagine was your glistening pussy. Ready for him to enjoy. Fuck.

“You are a fucking drug. A sweet, delicious drug that'll be the death of me.”

Daniel hummed before flattening his tongue against you, loving eyes locked on yours before your head tilted back, throat barely squeaking out a moan. He lapped and lapped and lapped away at you, paying close attention to the way you curled up when the tip of his nose slipped over your clit, your moan changing in pitch. He was always in heaven devouring you like this, until he was somewhat satisfied. He wasn’t selfish and he knew what you wanted, even if he could’ve stayed like that until the sun came up. Feasting.

“Daniel, please.”

“Full naming me when I just wanna make you feel good is mean, baby.”

Daniel was playing. And you were teasing. He loved hearing you moan his whole name – his mind reeling back to the time you screamed out his full name as you came, subsequently rushing him to his own finish line. Exploding.

“I wanna cum around your cock. That’s all I want,” You sighed and finally opened your eyes, clutching and admiring at the sprinkling of chest hair. Daniel was drunk, but not drunk enough to not realise how lucky he was to have you spread out beneath him, pleading for him to fuck you into another dimension.

“Your wish is my… demand? Command? Your wish is my something,” Daniel couldn’t quite find the saying in the midst of his excitement, and you couldn't hold back the fit of laughter as you threw your head into the pillows.

“Smooth, Ricciardo,” You giggled as you felt his slick tip teasing your hole, fists clenched beside your head and a smirk the size of the equator on his face.

“Well how does it go then, smarty pants?” Daniel nodded his head and gently sank into you, revelling in the feeling of you engulfing every inch he had to give while he watched your eyes roll into the back of your head, waiting for your answer.

“I –” You stammered, adjusting and sucking in a sharp breath, “I have no… No idea, and I don’t… fucking care.”

Daniel chuckled as his wispy curls fell into his eyes, watching you lick your lips and gather yourself. You were blurry in his vision, the alcohol now really pumping through his veins as he gripped your hips in his large hands, palms perspiring and brows following suit. Your fingertips trailed from his chest down to his pelvis, skin hot to the touch and tattoos glistening from sheen of sweat covering his perfect body.

“Fuck me just like that… Oh my god.” You snapped open your lust filled eyes – blazing flames erupting in Daniel’s as they caught yours.

“Feels fuckin’ good, ey.”

It was a rhetorical question but you nodded anyway.

Daniel was huffing and puffing as your lips tried to find his, hands cradling his slacked jaw. Drunken sloppy sex was one of your favourite genres and it’d been a hot minute since you’d found yourselves with the taste of red wine still lingering on your tongues, fucking like animals. He was thrusting hard until he noticed your hand crawl down to where your bodies met, the delicate touch slowing his movements and capturing his undivided attention.

“Oi,” Daniel breathed and sat back on his knees, still warming in your tight pussy. Your eyebrows quirked with intrigue and a small smirk tugged at the corners of your lips as he grabbed your hand and guided it up to his mouth, eyes never leaving yours. Fanning the flames deep inside.

His tongue swiped across your soft fingertips, making sure each one was dripping wet with spit before sliding them back down between your trembling thighs, “Bet that feels better, huh?”

“Mm-hmm. Much better,” You managed to moan out as he wrapped his arm around your lower back and angled your hips up to his cock, watching himself slowly slide in and out while you circled your clit, edging yourself closer with every touch.

Daniel picking up the pace meant he wasn’t far from his high, the tell tale signs were consistent and always a dead giveaway. The flush of red creeping up his neck and veins bulging under his taut skin was the first sign. Filthy words whispered into your ear was the second and grunts vibrating in his chest as his focus was pulled to you and only you were one of the final ones before he couldn’t hold on any longer.

But he never left you high and dry. Not in a million fucking years.

"Right fucking there, Danny!" You shouted, oblivious to your screams almost certainly alerting the neighbouring room. Even if you were conscious of the volume of your voice, you couldn’t have cared less. Your man was putting on a show and you’d be damned if you didn’t make sure he knew how good he was giving it to you.

"I'm right there..."

"Cum all over my cock, beautiful."

You squealed into the pillow you’d been gripping, scrunching your nose at how fucking good he felt filling you to the brim. Daniel eased your thrashing body through the shockwaves, making sure you felt every last writhe of pleasure – every nerve set alight by the fire burning in your stomach as that perfectly tied knot quickly unravelled. He was holding on for dear life, cursing how tight you felt coming around his aching cock.

"I need to see your face, baby. Look at me."

Daniel’s raspy voice snapped you back to reality as your hips rocked violently against his. That and your blown-out pupils boring into his was enough to send him tumbling over the edge, unloading everything he had and more.

Daniel clutched your shuddering thighs with his searing fingertips as he bucked one, two, three times and placed one of his shaky palms against the hotel wall, trying to catch his breath as he filled you up. Your eyes were lazily shut, slowly regaining some semblance of consciousness and clawing at the skin on Daniel’s abdomen – attempting to soothe him through his high. Selfishly, you were too caught up in your own that you’d forgotten he was even still there. You'd make up for that later.

For now, you were in bliss. Laboured breathing filled the comfortable silence as you searched for one another, floating back down to the real world.

"Come back to me," Daniel teased quietly as a sly grin swept across your face, eyes closed and skin still tingling from his hot touch. He fell beside you and rolled off the bed in search of something, anything to clean up the mess you’d made together.

"I think I've died and gone to heaven," You whispered back, earning a hoarse chuckle in return. Daniel looked like a mirage on a hot summers day when you opened your eyes and watched him exit the en suite, tissue box in hand.

"What a review."

Proudly boasting after sex was a regular occurrence with Daniel and you loved it; encouraged it even. He chucked the tissue away and practically tripped back into bed, still tipsy and feeling the full effects now that he wasn't under your intoxicating spell. At least for now, anyway.

He flicked off the lamp and sent the room into complete darkness before you felt his warm arm snaking around your naked waist, pulling you into his pounding chest. You were exhausted and almost numb from the long night but satisfied above all else. Thirst well and truly quenched.

You could always rely on Danny for that.

click for more of my writing if you're interested.

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo smut #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 #monzamashmasterlist #forgive me lord for i have sinned #its actually pretty vanilla compared to some of my other ideas #so stay tuned i guess!#dr3

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clonefrce99 · 11 months

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They see each other again | Charles Leclerc x reader

summary: after a good amount of time, you and Charles meet again.

author’s note: speed written this one and i actually liked it (surprisingly enough) so i hope you do it too <3 i didn’t proof read this very well so sorry if there’s any mistakes. I was kinda thinking about making a series about this couple? Tell me if you’re interested!!

warnings: it can be a little angst? per usual (sorry)

**it can be read as a 2nd part of ‘They don’t stay together at the end’ or alone.

5 years ago, you met Charles Leclerc. And since, you never forgot him - and life was committed to not let that happen in any way; and you tried. You truly tried to not remember those days you spent together as often as you do, to not smile whenever you hear someone say his name.

God, sometimes, while on dates or just talking with random strangers you met during a night out, you caught yourself comparing them to Charles.

5 years. It's been five years since Charles Leclerc ruined everyone else for you.

And he’s standing right there, on the same spot you saw him for the first time. He’s just a few meters from where you are with your friends. The cafe looks and smells the same. It feels like you traveled in time. You’re facing his back, and you’re a hundred percent sure it’s Charles because he’s the only one who thinks that horrendous stained pants look good.

Also, he’s the only one that somewhat looks good on it.

“Now that’s insane” your friend laughs realizing what is going on.

“Shut up! He can’t see me. Go!” you pushed them slightly towards the cabin where the other two were already seated.

“And why not?” she kept smiling, glancing towards Charles now and then before seating.

She started to take off their coat and you did the same, trying your best to not catch anyone’s attention.

“Because I’m sure he doesn’t remember me”

“And why do you think that?” the friend sat next to you arched their eyebrows.

“Because it’s been five years?” you asked as if it was obvious.

“Well, you remember him”

“Yeah but I’m still in love with him, of course I remember. And also: we are not the same people we were years ago”

You glanced at Charles, he was still at the balcony, talking freely with the employees while waiting for his order. He had a few people accompanying him and a phone in his hand. Your heart was beating fast, part of you wanting him to see you, to come and say hi, to sweep you off your feet again. You knowing he was single was doing no good for your mind.

“When we were drunk at Silvia’s house, you cried telling me you wished you’d meet him again in this life or in another one. Remember?”

“No, I do not” lies. You clearly remember.

“It was right after you called yourself dumb for not going to Monaco with him” your other friend provoked, winning a congratulatory small punch from the other one who sat beside them.

“Whatever, what’s your point?”

“My point is that if you’re both not the same as years ago, it’s practically another life” she shrugged, getting up and slapping your shoulder “Now move, I need to get to the bathroom”

You got up quietly, still trying not to catch anyone’s attention. You sat again, now stealing their place in the cabin; it was safer.

To say you were freaking out was an understatement. Your friends were having the time of their life, giggling and making jokes. You knew you were over reacting a little, but your friends failed to understand that Charles Leclerc was the Charles Leclerc. The Ferrari driver. The unofficial Prince of Monaco. You laugh at yourself with the thought.

Your friend came back talking about something random, completely stealing your attention.

You only relaxed when he left. You felt a heavy weight on your stomach during the whole time; another opportunity lost for fear of rejection. Fear of being hanging in a feeling only you had. Charles had girlfriends during this meantime, lots of rumors too. He was living while you were barely making it. Did he also have a shiver going down his spine whenever he saw someone that resembles you like you do? No. You’re sure he doesn’t. Why would he?

When you got to your apartment, still laughing from a silly joke your friends made before leaving you, the best thought occurred: the night called for a glass of wine and a good movie. You deserve a little solitude. Rain started to hit the window, setting the mood. Perfect.

If your afternoon has been a complete chaos, your night is going great.

You were about to sit on your couch, under the new covers you bought, when a knock on the door stopped you. Frowning, you wondered who it could be; usually, the doorman announces but not this time? One of your neighbors, maybe? You prayed it wasn’t the old lady from next door who loves to rent free your ear for her non-stop complaining.

“Who is it?” You asked, leaving the cup on the coffee table.

“Hi, I know this is weird but your friend told me you have a room to rent?”

The known thick accent made your legs quiver. Fuck. Your eyes widened, mind going miles per hour, I can’t believe this is happening! Shit.

You unlocked the door, opening slightly and leaning onto it. “Hi”

“Hi,” he replied. “Remember me?”

Your heart was beating so fast. The feelings you had started to flood your eyes. You couldn’t contain a smile. He was truly asking if you remember him?

“Maybe” you shrugged, winning a laugh from him. You opened the door enough to give him space to go in. Charles swallowed dry, hands rubbing his pants in a nervous movement. “So… looking for a room to rent, huh?”

“Tried to be funny and failed, I guess”

“Please sit” you pointed towards the sofa. “Wine?”

“No, thanks”

You nodded and got your glass, following his steps and sitting on the other end, facing him. You leaned your head in your hand, supporting your elbow on the back of the couch.

“How did you find my address?”

“Your friend”

Like a movie, a flashback ran through your mind. Of course they hadn’t gone to the bathroom when they said they were, and that’s why they were giggling and joking about you and Charles during the whole day.

Even though you knew you would kill them next morning? you were also thankful.

“These pants are horrible” it came out before you couldn’t even register what you said.

“What?” he frowned in surprise, leaning closer. You two laughed at his offended face.

“I’m sorry, I was thinking and just… anyway” you scratched the back of your head. That was going just great.

“God, I truly missed you” he told you in between giggles, leaning even closer and reaching for the hand you had supported your head and bringing your wrist for him to kiss.

“I missed you too” you intertwined your fingers and brought his hand close to your face, feeling his warmth. You leaned on it, kissing it right after.

You kept staring at each other. Silence was loud. Louder than any song or any crowd you already heard. No words needed to be said. The rain was hitting harder on the window and the city outside started to get quieter. Charles Leclerc. How did you survive all these years without having him there?

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1 #f1 x you #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #artsy writes

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sheeple · 1 year

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Miracles don't exist | 10: The greatest nightmare

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): Moldy Voldy is back bitches, now the real shite show begins. A/n: So I'm gonna take a couple weeks off before posting year 5, just to give myself some time to further develop the story and so I don't get burned out lol. Next chapter will be posted 2nd of July [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

You're hesitant to knock on the headmaster's door. But the door swings open before your knuckles can make contact with the door.

Professor Dumbledore sits behind his desk, half-moon glasses down his nose. "Ah, Miss Black. For what do I owe the pleasure?" The Headmaster rises as you enter the office. He motions for you to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk, and you obey.

"Liquorish snap?" Dumbledore holds a bowl with black droplets for you to take, but you politely decline.

"No thank you, Sir. I've uhm... I've come to suspect something is happening, Sir." With a motion from Dumbledore, you continue; "I've this weird feeling. It's dark and festering inside me, down to my bones. And when I saw Professor Karkaroff's Dark Mark and heard him speak about it burning, it confirmed my suspicions. The Dark Lord is returning, Professor."

Dumbledore drops his back against the back of his chair, his hands clasping the armrests. "Are you one hundred per cent sure? Do you know when he will return?"

You frown and look down at your hands. "I do not, Sir. But I am terrified. Terrified of what will happen once he does return. What will happen to me?"

Dumbledore hums, stroking his beard. "I am afraid I do not have an answer, Miss Black. The only thing I can tell you is that Hogwarts is always your home."

You sigh. Great, so nothing can be done at all. And it's not like you can stay at Hogwarts during the summer.

Having told what you needed to tell and getting nowhere, you stand up from the chair. "Thank you for your time, Professor. I'll have to go, otherwise, I'll be late for History of Magic."

"Of course, have a nice day, Miss Black." Dumbledore waves you out of his office, a hand massaging his forehead.

You slip just in time into the History classroom and take your usual spot, which is next to Blaise. He gives you a glance and a nod before turning his attention back towards Professor Binns. It's the only class you have with just Blaise.

Today you're learning about the Goblin Rebellion of 1890, which was led by Ranrok. It was said a Fifth-year student with the help of a professor defeated the rebellion.

As Professor Binns' ghost drones on about the ways Ranrok and Rookwood helped each other, Blaise leans over. "How are you and Theodore doing?"

It makes you turn your head towards the taller boy. "Okay? I guess? Why are you asking?"

"Well... the two of you seem awfully close since Christmas break, I only assumed you and him made it official."

You frown. Did you and Theodore grow closer? You guess... but it's not that much different than before the break. Sure, he hangs around more and you actually enjoy his company now, rather than before. But that's because you're friends.

"We're just friends, Theo and I."

"Theo?", Blaise licks his lips and looks at you incredulously, "yeah- just friends. Sure. Theodore jinxes anyone else to hell and back if they dare to call him by anything other than his name."

You glance at the Professor — who keeps droning out his lecture, unbothered by the many sleeping students. "That can't be true. You are all just too wimpy to do it. And besides, Theodore isn't that intimidating."

A laugh escapes Blaise, which makes Professor Binns stop briefly in his story before continuing. "You've never been on the receiving end of his hard stare. He has always been soft for you."

You roll your eyes. "We haven't spoken to each other before this year."

"He's always been too intimidated to approach you. Your family's reputation proceeds you."

You glare at him. Of course, your family is the problem. They are always the problem.

Blaise flicks your wrist with his fingers. "Hey now, don't give me that look. You should be happy anyone told you."

"Why are you even telling me? Aren't you also in the race to win my hand or whatever?" You fold your arms over each other and slump down in your seat.

Now it is Blaise that rolls his eyes. "Originally. That was until she found out your lot still supports You Know Who."

He refers to his mother, obviously. Miss Zabini is truly a beautiful witch, but something about her is off. At least, that was the one time she was introduced to you. Maybe it was the party filled with Death Eaters.

"I don't blame her", you mutter. You wouldn't want your son to marry into a family of crazy blood supremacists.

The remainder of the class is spent in silence. Blaise has nothing to say and your thoughts are running wild. If what Blaise says is true and Theodore has been quote-unquote 'interested' in you for quite some time... Why? What made him? If you never interacted, what pulled him to you?

You only notice that class is over by Blaise getting up and packing his bag. You snap out of your thoughts and collect your ink and quill, stuffing it in your book bag.

"You're coming to the stands with us?", asks Blaise as he points over his shoulder towards the general direction of the final task.

You shake your head. "I'm going to the library and finish an essay I have yet to finish. I'll come later."

Blaise nods wordlessly and turns around, loosening his tie and stuffing it in his bag.

You don't actually need to finish an essay, you just need to have some alone time. And you're glad you took it, because once you reach the tribunes of the final task, people are talking loudly, cheering, and there is a band playing. You spot Draco and his friends and go to stand with them.

Looking around, you see Gjol and his friends standing with Durmstrang and the both of you wave to each other. You also spot Hermione and give her a small smile.

"You've just missed the send-off", says Theodore as he makes room for you to stand next to him.

You hum. "So we're supposed to just stand and wait here?"

Theodore nods. You let out a huff and go sit on the edge of the tribune behind you. That earns a laugh from the dark-haired boy and he goes to sit next to you. "You've just got here, why are you already sitting down?"

"I am not going to stand for who knows how long waiting for someone to show up with the cup to end the stupid thing."

Theodore chooses to stay silent and the two of you sit next to each other, listening and participating in the conversations around you.

The first thing that happens is a red spark rising up from somewhere in the maze and Fleur gets pulled from the competition. Next to getting dragged out of the maze is Victor, who looks weird.

Finally, it is between Harry and Cedric. There are no red sparks or anything coming out of the maze, so they're probably lost somewhere.

Suddenly, a cold-like grip travels up your spine and grabs your throat, making you gasp. You reach for Draco's arm. At first, he looks at you annoyed but when he sees the panicked look on your face, his own quickly morphs into that of concern.

"Are you okay?" Draco crouches down so he's at eye level

You shake your head, blood drained from your face and eyes wide. Without knowing exactly what the feeling is, you know what it means. "I felt it..."

"Felt what?", inquires Draco, grabbing your shoulders to stop your shaking.

"He's back."

At that moment, appears Harry with Cedric out of nothing. The elder boy lies limp on the ground. Harry's bent over Cedric, his shoulders shocking. And he says the words you've been dreading your whole life.

"He's back! He's back! Voldemort is back!"

Taglist (bold means I couldn’t tag you): @the0doreslover @lqndkxlmqma @st4rrry @choppedpartymuffinwinner @ledtassoo @literallyobessed @lestat-whore @vanishingcherry @harrysnovia @pietrobae @ireallywannasleep127

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imaginesbymonika · 1 year

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About you (6)

Pairing: Tenoch Huerta x fem!reader

Warnings: overthinking, anxiety

Plot: Inspired by "About you" by the 1975. You and Tenoch used to date and you simply can't shake the feeling that you are still in love with him. You wonder if he still thinks about you, because you do all the time.

Masterlist / Previous Chapter

The walk to Y/N's dressing room felt like a small eternity. It was probably only a 3 minutes walk down the hallway, but Tenoch spent it thinking about nothing but her. The last few years without her weren't miserable. He had his family after all. His daughters, and friends. However, without Y/N in it, something was missing.

He often caught himself reaching for his phone, trying to text her. Whenever that happened he would just put it back down and pretend he just checked the time. Gosh, the day he found out that he would have to take swimming lessons for the movie he wanted nothing more than to call her.

Then while he was making dinner for his children he daydreamed about how the conversation would go. He would call her. She would pick up. He would say "Hello" and she would say "Hello" right back to him. Like nothing bad has ever happened between them. "Remember how you got scared whenever I got anywhere near the water? For example when we visited the beach together? Remember how you got mad at me after I went further and further and further into the water until I almost couldn't stand anymore?"Then she would answer "Of course, mi amor." And her voice would be sweet like honey. And he would say something like "Worry no more because I am going to be taking swimming lessons soon." She would laugh and it would bring him so much joy. Then they got married. That usually always happened at the end of his daydreams. They would marry each other and die of old age. Like people do when they're in love. It would be all over the news:" Old couple dies after being together for almost a hundred years."

Tenoch swallows thickly. His brown eyes linger on her name being written on a piece of paper, that's hanging on the wall next to the door. Maybe when he knocks she will open up the door really fast. Almost like she expected him to be there. He would say "Hey" or just "Hello". He has no idea how to start this conversation, so maybe he should just tell her that. "I don't really know what to say." But what if that's somehow wrong? What if she answers with "You should better leave if you don't know what to say." No, his Y/N would never talk to him that way. But what if she isn't his Y/N anymore. Maybe this is a brand-new one. One that prefers sparkling water over tap water. Perhaps he should just say the very first thing that comes to mind, like-

With one swift motion, the brown door in front of him opens up and suddenly Y/N stands in front of him. She lets out a high-pitched scream and takes a small step backward. "Holy fuck!", she exclaims and her right-hand flies up toward her chest and lands on top of her heart:" You scared the living shit out of me, Tenoch!"

"I still love you!"

#tenoch huerta #tenoch huerta x reader #tenoch x reader #namor #mcu namor #wakanda forever #black panther #namor x reader #tenoch huerta imagine #imagine #x you #Y/N #tenoch huerta namor #namor the sub mariner #Spotify

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melswifeasf · 1 year

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Find my way back to you pt 4

previous chapter || next chapter || series page

Pairing: Samantha Carpenter x Fem!OC

Summary: Sam realizes Estelle isn’t the person she once knew.

Warnings: underage drinking

(word count: 3733)

eight years ago…

Saturday nights were debatably the best nights of the whole week. Elias threw parties most of the time which always lightened Estelle’s mood even if she had the shittiest week ever.

October was always a memorable month to throw parties, especially when it got closer to halloween. that never changed. specifically that Saturday night, it was a week before halloween and Elias decided to throw a party. he spent most for the day setting up the house with his sister.

at first he thought it was pointless to decorate if everyone would just end up trashing the house but Estelle insisted on making it the most memorable halloween party of the year and Elias could never really say no to her.

that resulted in them buying over two hundred dollars worth of decoration. that Saturday morning, Estelle and her brother woke up and began setting up with Alex and Xavier. they started with the living room, hanging up fake cobwebs on some of the corners and throwing it lazily on the coffee table as well as setting up a fog machine that they already owned from prior parties. along with that, they set up fake skeletons and hung up a couple of other things that fit the theme of the party.

they set up most of the house with the same things, except the upstairs which everyone knew was off limits and the outside that already had decorations since October first.

they spent most of the afternoon pregaming and listening to Estelle’s orders that by the end of it they were all pretty buzzed and knew they would be wasted not even halfway through the party.

once the sun had set Estelle had gone up to her room to get ready. she initially wanted to match costumes with her girlfriend but she had been a total bitch all week so Estelle decided to ditch the whole ‘Joker and Harley Quinn’ and instead wore something more basic and yet would be turning a lot of heads. as she looked in the mirror she saw a black skimpy dress that hugged her body painfully well that barely reached a forth of her thigh and pushed her cleavage together quite a bit. she had on black wings to match with it and dark eyeshadow. she knew her girlfriend would be pissed by the end of the night and yet she couldn’t care less, she deserved to feel wanted.

her brother had on something basic as well, him and his friends decided to all just wear black button ups along with dress pants and a purge mask that would light up with a press of a button.

Estelle found it cute that they all decided to match. the three boys had been a part of each others lives since kindergarten and it seemed like that would truly never change.

it wasn’t until it began getting dark out that people arrived.

Estelle was buzzed by the time her girlfriend arrived. as soon as she saw the girl enter her home she squealed loudly as she ran toward her and threw her body into the taller girls embrace. Valerie chuckled as she catches her easily and brings her lips up to meet Estelle’s in a sloppy kiss.

“i missed you” Estelle said softly once she had pulled away.

“miss you too” Valerie responded. once Estelle was on the ground she took in her girlfriends costume, she had on a plain white shirt that had fake blood on it along with plain black jeans and a leather jacket on top. the side of her mouth had a slight drop of fake dried blood that indicated she was a vampire.

Estelle almost rolled her eyes at how little effort she put into the costume but decided against it as she instead grabbed the girls hand and led her to the kitchen where she began to pour her a drink.

three shots of tequila and two beers later Estelle was in her girlfriends arms giggling at whatever stupid thing she had just said. unlike Estelle Valerie was more sober, opting out of the shots and sticking with the beer Estelle bad handed her the second she walked in the house.

there was a song playing in the background - one Estelle couldn’t quite put a name on. her heart was beating fast and it was thumping in her ears causing most of the noise around her to be drowned out, she felt wobbly and her eyes were starting to feel slightly heavier and her body looser. none of that took the smile off of her lips as she had her arm hanging loosely on her girlfriend shoulder as the other was gripping the back of her neck for support. Valerie had both of her hands on the shorter girls waist, the dress she was wearing began to hike up making Valerie reach toward it and pull it down every couple of seconds.

she was pissed at Estelle for wearing such a short dress but Elias was close and watching them like a hawk so she couldn’t do anything about it. not yet at least.

wet kisses were being littered on Estelle’s neck as she danced with her girlfriend. she knew she was supposed to be focused on that but her eyes couldn’t leave Sam Carpenters. Sam was standing across the room with two girls and and a couple of guys, she had a beer in hand and much like Estelle, she wasn’t focused on the people around her, instead her eyes couldn’t leave Estelle’s figure.

Sam was in a orange jumpsuit that had cuffs hanging on the side. she had on a white tank top that was on full display seeing as the jumpsuit wasn’t zipped and it was hanging by her hips.

she looked breathtaking and Estelle couldn’t seem to find a way to look away. Sam’s eyes were glued onto Estelle as if she were a magnet.

the shorter girl bit her lip in an attempt to keep her whimpers to herself. the feeling of her girlfriends lips on her neck as well as having Sam watching her like she wanted to take her right then and there, it was making her knees weak.

Valerie’s leg was in between Estelles and the girl wanted nothing more than to grind against it to have some kind of relief but there were too many people in the room and although she was wasted, she was conscious enough to know she’d regret it in the morning.

Valerie pulled away from the girls neck and whispered something in her girlfriends ear, Estelle wasn’t listening as she simply nodded her head and agreed with whatever dirty talk the girl was spewing.

she couldn’t concentrate with the stupid smirk plastered on Sam’s lips. she was enjoying this a little too much.

Estelle’s breathing shortened and she pulled away from Valerie completely. her legs were wobbly and she was beginning to regret wearing heals.

“what’s wrong?” Valerie asked a flash of concern overcoming her features.

Estelle shook her head, “i just need to use the bathroom” the short girl said and didn’t give her girlfriend a chance to respond as she turned around and began to walk away.

she took deep breaths as she slightly shoved people out of her path needing to find the nearest bathroom as fast as possible.

finally once she was out of the living room and in a dark hallway she took in a deep breath, leaning against the wall as she held her hand against her chest where she felt her heart thumping hastily against her hand.

“fuck” Estelle cursed lowly. she could the many things but never a cheater, it didn’t matter how many times she and Valerie fought, she never thought about being with anyone else. but seeing Sam was making things all too confusing. she shouldn’t have ever given her a ride, she should’ve simply called one of Sams friends that Estelle had seen her hanging out with all the time and called it a day. god.

Estelle had her eyes closed when she heard footsteps approaching. she didn’t open them, not yet. it wasn’t until she felt the presence of someone else in front of her that they slowly fluttered open revealing a pair of bright green eyes.

Sam was standing in front of her with a slight smirk on her lips.

“what do you want?” the short girl snapped as she crossed her arms against her chest.

the Carpenter girl shook her head slightly amused. she didn’t answer verbally as she took a step closer until she was completely invading Estelle’s space.

Estelle’s breath hitched in her throat, her heart beating even faster. instinctley her head snapped to the side where she was once dancing with her girlfriend. she couldn’t see her through the crowd of people causing a wave of relief to flood through her. the dark haired girl turned back toward Sam where the cocky smirk was still plastered on her lips.

“Sam..” Estelle whispered lowly, her eyes were looking into those dark beautiful eyes whilst Sam’s were trained on her lips. there was a look of pure want behind Sam’s eyes that was making Estelle clench her legs together.

the short girl followed Sam’s actions and glanced down at her plump lips, she didn’t have much time to even think as she felt them crash against her own.

Estelle gasped in slight surprise but soon kissed back, not wanting to miss this moment. Sams hands gripped Estelle’s waist firmly and Estelle wrapped her arms around Sams neck. Sam had the girl pressed against the wall roughly, her lips moving against Estelle’s hastily leaving no room for hesitation.

Estelle whimpered softly, the sensation of Sams hands gripping her waist with such strength making a wave of heat to run through her. she was sure there would be a faint bruise left behind from the tight grip.

Sams tongue was shoved into Estelle’s mouth, her lips wet and rough. Estelle was starting to feel light headed but she couldn’t find it in her to pull away. it felt too good and she knew once it was over it could never happen again.

wet kisses trailed away from Estelle’s mouth and toward her jaw down until they reached her neck.

Estelle moaned softly her hands tangled in Sams hair and she pulled on it roughly but at the same time pressed her head further into her neck to keep her there.

the shorter girl felt Sams leg in between her legs much like Valerie’s was before and she instantly began to grind down on it softly.

she was in the same position with her girlfriend just seconds prior and her this feeling was incomparable. everything was heightened.

“Sam” Estelle whimpered as the girls tongue met Estelle’s neck before she began to suck on the skin. at first the short girl let it happen, enjoying it for as long as she can. that is until she felt Sam begin to grow rougher, the force of it surely leaving a mark.

Estelle quickly shoved her away by her chest. Sam didn’t fight it, she looked slightly confused, her chest rising and falling heavily, her lips swollen and slightly red mixed with purple. the red was from Estelle’s lipstick and the bruise was from the force of it.

“i’m sorry i-” Sam began to speak but was cut off almost instantly by Estelle’s lips. it was a short kiss compared to the one they had just shared. Estelle pulled away, a dazed look in her eyes.

she opened her mouth to speak before it was closed shut quickly. she took one last glance at the Carpenter girl before she walked away quickly, shoving everyone in her way. she needed to get out of there quickly.

present

after leaving Tara’s room earlier that day, Estelle had stayed at the hospital. she wasn’t in uniform but she still had her gun in her holster belt. the girl was in the waiting area as she chatted with the receptionist. she was a nice lady and it’s not like she had much of anything else to do. Sam and her boyfriend were in Tara’s room meaning she couldn’t be there.

Judy told her to go home, it’s not like she could do much but Estelle couldn’t. she didn’t want to leave Tara alone and although her sister was there, Estelle was trained with a weapon and knew how to defend herself and others.

it’s not like she had work, Judy told her to take the week off after seeing Tara in such a traumatic way, Judy knew Estelle wouldn’t be focused on the job.

“help!” Estelle’s words were interrupted by the sound of someone’s faint yell and a door slamming open. “somebody help me! he’s trying to kill me!” immediately Estelle’s hand landed on her gun as she saw Sam running toward her at full speed.

the Carpenter girl ran into her ex girlfriend and Estelle quickly gripped her arms, “hey it’s okay. you’re okay. what’s going on?” she quickly said trying her best to calm the girl down.

her heart was thumping in her ears. she was taking deep breaths to try and calm her nerves, she was used to this, the danger of it all but that wasn’t why she was feeling this way. it was the fact that Sam had been in danger and she was just in the other room from her unable to protect her.

she reached for the door handle and threw it open, her gun pointed up as she swooped the room in one second. there were chairs and tables flipped over and on the floor but no sign of ghostface or a single person in sight.

once she was sure there was no one inside she walked back out where she saw Sam who was shaking still, a panicked look in her eyes.

“there’s no one inside” Estelle said softly as she approached her hesitantly. Sams eyes snapped toward her.

“what?”

“im gonna call Judy, okay?” the girl said gently as she pulled out her phone and went to her contact list.

while the girl was trying to contact the sheriff, Sam rushed to Taras room.

twenty minutes later they were all in Tara’s room again, Sam sitting beside her sister with Richie and Amber. Sam had said that the call came from Ambers phone so she was called in.

Estelle was leaning against the wall as she stared at Sam. the girl was staring into space with a distant, almost hollow look in her eyes. she looked exhausted and Estelle wanted nothing more than to hug Sam.

as soon as the thought popped into the girls head she shook it off, Sam and her were over. Sam left and broke her heart in the process. plus she was with Richie now.. although Estelle wasn’t quite sure what she saw in him.

the girls eyes snapped away from her ex as she looked between Amber and Richie. she didn’t trust him, not as much Amber considering she always like the girl. plus she knew there was something going on between Tara and her and she didn’t think Amber would be capable of hurting the girl she loved.

the two never became official but Estelle had popped in one Sunday morning to bring Tara breakfast after having driven her and Amber home from a party seeing as they were both wasted, only to see them both in a very.. compromising position on the living room couch.

from that day on Estelle learned to not listen to Tara when she would say to keep a key. she left her spare key on the kitchen island that morning.

Estelle’s thoughts were fading away as she heard Judy speak. “i’ve got a body outside a bar on Main. and then you get attacked here. you said the call came from Ambers number?”

“so? we know he cloned my phone before when he attacked Tara.” Amber said as she looked down at her ‘best friend’

“or, and i’m just spit-balling here you’re the killer” Richie said making Estelle roll her eyes.

fuck him.

the girl cleared her throat loudly making Judy glance in her direction. Estelle motioned toward the boy with her eyes which Judy immediately understood.

“and where were you when all this happened?” Judy asked with narrowed eyes.

“i was..” he trailed off. “watching Netflix”

“ooh yeah.” Amber nodded “super solid alibi bro” she said looking at him.

“so where were you” he rebutted with a slight smirk. one Estelle desperately wanted to punch.

“she was being questioned at the Sheriffs station” Estelle said this time quick to Ambers defense. she had known these kids since they were little and she wasn’t going to let some nobody who just now started dating Sam come accusing Amber of it to try and clean his own hands.

Judy nodded as she handed the raven girl her cell phone. “yeah. i came as soon as i heard. but you know, the Netflix alibi is good, too”

Estelle chuckled internally at her words.

“both of you, stop it” Judy snapped.

“you’re gonna put more cops on her room, right?” Sam asked ignoring little quarrel that had just taken place.

“yes” Judy nodded. “and i can move you to a private floor. Deputy Vinson knows what he’s doing. you’ll be safe” the sheriff said trying to ease the sisters worries.

“like we’ve been so far?”

the blonde woman smiled sarcastically, “Samantha, let’s step outside” she said nodding toward the door. the two did so and Estelle stiffened, she knew Judy wasn’t a fan of Sam.

“so.. why do you have a gun?” Richie asked looking at the girl. if Tara wasn’t literally fearing her life she would’ve laughed at how stupid his question was.

Estelle didn’t look at him, her jaw tightened. “ever heard of a cop?” she asked sarcastically.

Amber laughed and Estelle didn’t say anything else as she walked to the door and left the room. she was met with the back of Sams head, Judy gone by now.

as soon as the door closed Sam turned around. she looked slightly mad, even with how neutral her expression was Estelle could read her like an open book.

Estelle cleared her throat softly, “i’ll be around the hospital in case you guys need anything” she said. she didn’t wait for a response as she left the girl alone.

the short girl rushed to follow Judy. “Judy” she called out finally getting the blonde woman’s attention. she stopped in place and turned to face Estelle. “what happened? what did you say?”

Judy sighed. “just that it’s best she leaves” she shrugged.

“come on Judy. you know she’s just worried about her sister,i get where you’re coming from but she went through a lot of shit when we were younger” Estelle said in Sams defense.

Judy shook her head, “if she stirs any trouble further then this, i won’t hesitate to lock her up” the blonde threatened earning a quick nod from Estelle.

“aye aye”

eight years ago

Estelle was furious. after the little incident with Sam at the party, Valerie was pissed at her for the rest of the weekend. they had gotten into a huge argument that same night and hadn’t talked since.

the teen walked through the halls in search for the Carpenter girl, she had a determined look in her eyes, her jaw locked and her posture stiff.

she knew where she would be finding her.

walking for another minute she was right. she saw Sam near the back of the school with her little group of stoner friends. she marched up to them, standing in front of Sam.

“we need to talk” she grit out not looking at anyone but her and walking away. Sam didn’t even get a chance to respond as the girl was already practically stomping away. her friends laughed at her making Sam roll her eyes and throw up the finger.

she followed behind Estelle with furrowed brows, she was confused on where the girl was taking her until they were met with the girls bathroom. Sam smirked.

“is this round two?” she joked but Estelle wasn’t amused. once they were both inside the short girl locked the door behind them and searched the bathroom to make sure there was no one inside. Sam raised a brow, “are you gonna tell me why i’m here?”

“what the fuck was that at the party” Estelle snapped looking at Sam furiously.

Sam was slightly confused, “the kiss? i thought you-”

“you thought that i what?” Estelle cut her off, “that i wanted you to kiss me where my fucking girlfriend could see us? are you stupid?”

Sam chuckled amused, “i’m sorry. i guess when you were staring at me whilst she was practically fucking you that perhaps that’s what you wanted. complete miscommunication” she shrugged.

Estelle groaned as she threw her hands up and pulled at her anger in frustration, she wanted to slap that stupid smirk away from her lips. “this isn’t funny”

Sams smirk slowly faded and she sighed softly, “i’m sorry. okay?”

but that wasn’t enough for Estelle. she rolled her eyes once more as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “you aren-”

Sam didn’t let her finish her thought as she quickly grabbed Estelle’s wrist, “what is that?” she asked and pulled her sleeve up. there was a dark bruise on her arm in the form of a hand, it was angry and purple meaning the person who caused it had to have out a lot of pressure.

Estelle snatched her hand away in an instant, “it’s nothing” she quickly shook her head but Sam didn’t believe her. she tilted her head, a look of sorry still etched on her features.

“Estelle-”

the girl held her hand up to prevent her from talking, “just leave me alone Sam, okay?”

she didn’t leave room for a response as she turned on her heel and rushed out of the bathroom.

#sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter #scream v #scream #scream series #tara carpenter #amber freeman #chad meeks martin #mindi meeks martin #gale weathers #sidney prescott #lesbian #gxg

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bullet-prooflove · 1 month

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Trying!Series Part Three: Thirty Days - Will Trent x Reader

Tagging: @yezzyyae @words-and-seeds @trublu2u @cassiopeiablog @kmc1989 @littleesilvia @oscarisaacispunk @@yv84452 @elizabeththebat @@scoker10 @@knick3rbock3r @zerostarzzz @five-hargreeves-apologist @judware @pixiedust4000 @jemimah-b99 @nincompoopydoo @multifandom63 @sgt-spooky @fatefuldestinies @@multifandomtrash34 @marie-mali @myloversprayer @emilyjr @wheelerdixon @genericbrowngirl @toheavenwmydrms @secretsquirrelinc @foxfables @delightfulheroshoeflap

Trying!Series:

Part One: Notions - Seeing you with a baby opens Will up to a future he never contemplated.

Part Two: Trying - You and Will struggle to give each other what you really want, causing friction in the relationship.

Thirty days.

That’s how long Will has been undercover as Bill Black.

It’s a deep cover operation, one that he wishes he wasn’t uniquely qualified for but that’s the way the chips had fallen. One minute he’s sitting in a doctor’s office, preparing to deliver his sample and the next he’s being read in by the DEA. The timing’s not convenient but he wouldn’t have agreed if there were any other option.

He thinks about you as he lies upon a lumpy mattress, pretending to be a man that he’s not. He’s spent the majority of his life feeling isolated, always being on the outside. It’s only in the past couple of years that’s changed and that’s thanks to both you and Faith. The two of you are grounding forces in his life and now he feels untethered, adrift.

It’s late and he’s on the way back to his dingey little apartment, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket when he walks past a working girl on the corner. They’re everywhere in this neighbourhood, people are just trying to make ends meet, feed their families.

“You looking for some company tonight handsome…”

He would know your voice anywhere and sure enough when he looks up there you are in black shorts that barely cover your ass and fishnet tights that definitely do a little something for him. Black lace peeks over the top of the white, almost translucent vest top that you’re wearing. Your eyes are dark with black liner, your lips accentuated with a bold red.

“I might be, sugar.” He drawls as he leans in close, the edges of his mouth tipping up into a smile. “What do I get for a hundred?”

The scent of your perfume floods through his system, the sweet aroma of orange blossoms and for the first time since this case started, he can feel the essence of himself returning.

“The ride of your life.” You tell him with that sultry pout of yours.

He laughs because everytime with you feels just like that.

It isn’t until you’re in his apartment that the pretext falls away. You take in your surroundings as he locks the door behind you. He keeps it as neat as your home, clean lines, no clutter. The thing about Will is, he’s institutionalised, the habit beaten into him from a young age. It plays well into the character of Bill Black.

You study him when he comes to sit on the edge of the bed, he looks tired, wrung out. It’s hard becoming someone else, living their life and abandoning your own. The thing about this operation, there’s no end in sight, it takes as long as it takes. You reach out, cupping his chin and guiding his gaze up to meet yours.

“I see you, Will Trent.” You say softly as your thumb ghosts over his jawline.

“Do you have it with you?” He asks you.

Your thumb hooks the gold chain around your throat, withdrawing it from your cleavage. His wedding ring hangs on the end of it. He captures it in his palm, clasping it between his thumb and forefinger before using the chain to draw you into his lap.

“When I’m with you, I want it to be as your husband.” He whispers as he looks into your eyes.

His hands are gentle as he reaches around the nape of your neck and gently undoes the chain. The ring slips off into his palm before slides it back onto its rightful place.

“Now sugar.” He murmurs, the edges of his mouth tipping up into a smile. “Where were we?”

Love Will? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#will trent x reader #will trent #will trent x you #ramon rodriguez

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mean-scarlet-deceiver · 4 months

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re: Why the Coppernob/Cornwall war

thanks to @houseboatisland for helping me punch up the insult a bit ;) been carryin' my ass all day, actually —

To a large extent they just have just been instilled with different value systems. So they're constantly judging each other.

Could they have left all this behind when they both separately embarked on their preservation years? I mean I guess but that’d be boring for them both. Let ‘em hang on to what little they have left from those days. Also, there was An Incident that cemented Coppernob’s enmity, justifying it retroactively… and for the next couple hundred years…

Scene: 1898. F.R. 3 and 4 are making their final preparations, preparing to be dismantled for the last time in the coming winter. 4 has the bright idea to write to Cornwall. Apologize for their part in the old quarrel. Wish him and his well in the years ahead.

It should be noted 3 was against this idea from the start. But 4 was feelin’ chipper with a warm sense of good-fellowship peace-on-earth-goodwill-to-man, so he went right on ahead with the project.

3: He'll never reply.

4: He doesn't have to reply. The letter says so.

3: Well... don't put my name on it!

4 and 4's driver: *ignore him. 3's name is signed to this bullshit too.*

To everyone's surprise, they do get a reply. Aaaand it's basically 'lol get scrapped losers. couldn’t even remember who you were till cousin columbine reminded me of the two grubby little humpback radishes i used to leave in my dust. anyway lmao imma live forever bitch. hope hell's hot enough for ya… probably gonna be a big step up from barrow tbh.' Bonus: insults their long-dead sisters.

4: .... bit harsh, that

3: I told you! I told you!!

Of course in the end 3 is also preserved and now he can carry the memory of the time Cornwall basically spat in the face of all three of his dead siblings until the end of time.

***

But.

I'm gonna be honest, I suspect Cornwall doesn't know the letter was sent. Like his attitude was "oh fuck them" and then he and his closest mates had a roaring session where they all tried to out-do each other on what Cornwall should write back but he has no idea some officious Company-proud shed employee dutifully wrote down all the roasts and sent the result back off to Barrow. Cornwall fully disliked the Copper-Nobs, and he is a jerk, but, like. He's not evil. If the engineman-turned-scribe had had the sense to confirm the letter he wrote up on his behalf Cornwall would undoubtedly have been like 'oh lmao no just rip it up.'

Which makes it all the funnier to me, ngl. Coppernob hates Cornwall intensely because he knows what a foul rat he secretly is. Cornwall thinks Coppernob is carrying a new degree of grudge because he didn't write back with kum-bye-ya we're-all-pals-now and scoffs at it. Other engines have picked up on the dark hints they've both thrown out about this incident and have had difficulty assembling them into a coherent narrative, for obvious reasons. It's a mess. If tomorrow they realized they were at cross purposes and Coppernob quoted that letter-he-totally-hasn’t-memorized Cornwall would be like 'WHAAAAT i never wrote that' and Coppernob would fuckin' die of humiliation when he learned Cornwall thought he'd been in a strop for a hundred twenty five years only because Cornwall left his apology on read and now his widdle fweelings were hurt. 'I'd never have given a fuck if there'd been no reply!! I never even wanted Four to send that stupid letter!!!!' 'real shit? haha that actually does make more sense lol your brother was such a loser — '

Aaaaaand I guess that'd be the beginning of the third phase of the endless grudge.

So maybe it’s inevitable. They gotta despise each other. It’s fate.

#coppernob things #cornwall things #real true railway headcanon #chatter #'humpback radish' was allllll houseboat <3

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flowerprincesscherryblossom · 1 year

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him and i

pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female Reader word count: 2939 warnings: angst, flashback, explicit language, cheating, fondling, dry humping, making out AO3 A/N: Hope you like it and that you have a wonderful day wherever you are💜

You didn't know what to do anymore…

You were lying awake in bed, unable to fall asleep due to the never-ending thoughts your mind kept creating, the constant tossing and turning just making everything worse - you just wanted the day to be over, was that so much to ask for?

The last time you checked your phone it was well past midnight and you didn't bother to check again, hours or minutes could've passed since, it didn't make a difference.

Every time you closed your eyes your brain kept flashing memories that you kept questioning…

Did he really love you as much as he said he did? Did he ever loved you to begin with? When did the change happen? When did he stop seeing you for what you were once to him? When did you became so stupid for not realizing it sooner?

Every date, every kiss, every moment together replaying over and over in your mind as you carefully analyzed every small detail, trying to figure out when it all began.

He wasn't like this in the beginning of your relationship… or at least, he was better at keeping it hidden.

Yours and Jungkook's first meeting was a complete accident, and something straight out of a romance novel, you just bumped into each other because neither were paying attention to their surroundings as you were leaving the coffee shop he was entering. You both apologized profusely, incredibly shy, and stumbling over words.

After much insistence on his part, he decided to pay for something of your choice in the cafe to make up for it - even if you kept insisting that it wasn't necessary since the only thing you had in your hands when you collided with him was your phone, but he refused to take no for an answer.

The both of you talked about everything and nothing of the going-ons' in your lives, more so you than him as he didn't seem to want to share some details of his life. The initial awkwardness slowly dispatching as the two of you kept talking and cracking jokes as if you had known each other for years.

Before you went your separate ways he asked for your number, saying he would like to hang out with you again. You hesitated, first and foremost he was still a stranger, but he kept insisting and a part of you liked the attention he was giving you. So you agreed.

Two days later and he was inviting you out again.

Looking back on it, maybe the first red flag was when he kept wanting to be in your presence despite you both being strangers…

The two of you continued to spend time together, two-three days every week. He started talking more about himself but you always got the feeling that he was still hiding something, that there was a wall that he refused to break down.

Then, it didn't bother you, knowing how hard it can be to opening up to new people about certain things in your life - especially when you couldn't be a hundred percent sure that they wouldn't hurt you and leave, surrounding you with broken pieces of what you used to be.

You had your own walls, but as time passed, with every text; every call; every hangout; Jungkook had managed to find a crack in them and slowly tear them down.

Now, you're ashamed of how easily dependant you had become of his presence.

The friendship between you was like this for the next couple of months but that changed one night. That one night you could still remember so clearly, especially now after everything you had learned.

You invited him to your house - watching movies, playing games, and eating takeout were on your agenda, you just wanted to spend some more time with the man whose company you had grown so used to. It wasn't the first time you asked but it was the first time he had said yes, he was always so apprehensive whenever you asked that it had come as a total shock when he agreed.

From the moment he stepped foot in your apartment Jungkook had seemed a little on edge, something you had hoped would vanish as the night went on.

It hadn't. As the night went on, Jungkook seemed jumpier and more closed-off than usual, his mind miles away from where you were. And you were growing tired of it.

"You can leave if you want." you said, eyes focused on the movie that was playing. You didn't want to look at the man that was sitting by your side on the couch.

"I wanna stay."

"Coulda fooled me," you let out a dry laugh, not believing his words. "You look so uncomfortable."

"Have something on my mind."

Nodding at his words with a tight smile on your lips, silence fell once more before you chose to speak. "You know you can-" you interrupted yourself once you took a look at him. Jungkook was gazing at you intently, a glimmer of something you couldn't quite pinpoint in his eyes.

You felt like prey in the presence of a predator - frozen in place and unable to tear your eyes away from him, fearing that the smallest movement would break the spell you found yourself in. You were ashamed to admit that the way his eyes focused on you sent a spark of arousal through your body. You pressed your thighs together, hoping to relieve some of the tension, and praying that he wouldn't notice.

But he did, his eyes traveled to your legs and then back to your eyes, a smirk playing on his lips as he scooted closer. "I can what?" putting a few strings of hair behind your ear, his finger caressing your skin until it reached your chin to which he then gripped it a bit forcefully, making you fixate on him. "Finish your thoughts."

"Y-You c-can," swallowing the lump in your throat, you tried to find your words but that was proving to be difficult with his gaze on you and the feeling of his hand caressing your thigh. "You can tell me anything."

He hummed, pulling your face closer to his but stopping short of his lips grazing yours. The both of you stay like that for what it felt like hours, staring into each other's eyes and feeling each other's warm breath on your lips.

You wanted him to kiss you. You wanted Jungkook to close the distance between you. You wanted to feel what his lips would feel against yours. You would do it yourself but the grip on your chin unabling you from doing it.

You let out a whine and even then, Jungkook refused to do anything, simply letting out a chuckle at your desperation.

"I don't think you can handle what I'm thinking about." his thumb ran along your bottom lip but you were left confused by his words. Opening your mouth to ask what he meant but before any sound leaves you Jungkook presses his lips on yours.

The shock was quick to leave and you kissed him back. It started slow and soft, almost as if he thought that you would break if he used any force. His hands gripped your waist, pressing you to lay on your back against the couch, making quick work of climbing on top of you.

The sounds from the movie had fallen into background noise as the two of you found yourself in a heated makeout session where the only sound that matter was of your shared moans. Jungkook's tongue wrestling yours as one of his hands was under your shirt, fondling your bra-hidden breast, your legs wrapped around him, pulling him closer as you grinded your covered core against his clothed bulge.

There was a voice inside of you saying that you should stop; that it was wrong; to stop before you crossed the point of no return, but everything just felt too good to stop. One of your hands raking through his hair while your other one slid down his body and grabbed a hold of the button of his jeans.

But as quick as it started, it stopped with Jungkook suddenly pulling away from you. "I shouldn't have done that," he said breathlessly while running his hand through his disheveled hair. "I'm sorry."

He immediately got up and left your apartment in a hurry, without once looking back and leaving you in a state of confusion, hurt, and guilt.

You didn't talk with each other for almost an entire week, but it wasn't long before you both found yourselves in that same position.

Ever since that night, whenever you and he spent any time together it would start out normal enough but as the night went on you would always find yourself beneath him, hands all over each other's bodies and shared heated kisses. Every night would end the same as well, him pulling away from you, apologizing and leaving, letting you contemplate every action all alone.

It wasn't that long ago that you had finally grown tired of the game he kept playing with you. It was also the night that everything came crashing down.

You were out in a club with your friends, trying to forget the feeling he constantly left you with, when you spotted him with a group of people you didn't recognize. You couldn't keep your eyes off of him and it wasn't long before his found yours but that night you just couldn't deal with him anymore. You turned to one of your friends and told them that you were going outside for a breath of fresh air, the entire time you could feel his eyes on you.

Once outside, you leaned against a wall on the side of the building and away from everyone's eyes. Trying to calm down your heartbeat, you weren't the least bit shocked that the footsteps that followed you belonged to Jungkook.

You let out a dry chuckle and refused to look at him. "Why did you follow me?"

"Wanted to check on you," he shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and kept coming closer to you. "Wouldn't be a good friend if I ignored a friend in need."

"Friend?" you asked baffled, finally taking a look at him. "After everything… we're just friends?" you stood at an arm's length from him, feeling anger and disappointment at his lack of a response. "Do you kiss all of your friends the same way you do with me?"

You start to walk past him but suddenly you feel his hand gripping your wrist and pulling you towards him, his other hand taking a hold of your face and crashing your lips in a harsh kiss before you had a chance to say anything.

Pressing you against the wall, completely caging you as he devoured your lips like he had been denied any meal before he found you. You could feel your resolve crumbling bit by bit but you had to be strong, you couldn't let him continue with this anymore.

"J-Jungkook." using your free hand, you started to slightly push him off of you but the result was him leaving a trail of open-mouth kisses on your jaw and neck.

"J-Jungkook s-stop." you tipped your head back to give better access, the hand that was previously holding your face was being used to wrap one of your legs around his waist, letting you feel his clothed bulge and making you let out a moan as he started to grind against you.

But you couldn't let it go beyond the lines that had already been crossed, this was wrong.

"Jungkook I'm dating someone!" that seemed to finally make him stop and look at you. "I'm sorry… I-I should've told you sooner and I don't know why I didn't."

Letting out a heavy breath, he laid his head on your shoulder before whispering. "I know."

That caught you off guard - all this time, every kiss shared, he knew you had a boyfriend and that never stopped him. You weren't innocent, you knew that, and you should've put a stop to it after the first time it happen but the fact that he knew from the beginning was leaving you with a bad feeling that you couldn't shake off.

"I know since the first time we met… because he's my boyfriend too."

His words hit you like a ton of bricks, you were left paralyzed by them, not being able to move or speak as tears started to form in your eyes.

"After I found out he was cheating on me I had this idea of meeting who the other person was," he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him, all the while still refusing to meet your eyes. "After doing a little digging in his phone I found out about you and planned on telling the truth about him," his grip on you tighten, almost suffocating you in his arms, not realizing that his words were doing the same. "But the first time I saw you… You were so happy with him and it made me so mad that I… I had the fucked up idea of using you to get back at him."

"The first time we met wasn't an accident, I waited inside for you to show up. Every moment after was just me trying to get you to trust me," you could hear the sadness in his voice and feel the tears he was letting out but you couldn't find it in yourself to care. "Just so I could fuck you and break the two of you apart."

You couldn't listen to him anymore. "Let me go." you struggled against his stronghold but he refused to budge. "Goddammit, I said let me go! Didn't you already ruined my life enough?"

"Not until you hear everything I have to say."

"What more is there? I thought you were my friend and all this time you've just been using me!" you started yelling at him, the anger inside you growing with every word of his confession. "Do you just want me to feel even worse about myself? Why are you even telling me this?"

"Because I feel in love with you!" He yelled, catching you off guard once again.

You started laughing in disbelief. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he let you push him off of you, his face showed how broken and hurt he was and you doubt that you looked any better. "Is this some kind of joke to you? Why should I believe you?"

"What reason do I have to tell you all if this if I was lying?" Jungkook was growing frustrated more and more but he never once step too far away from you. "Why wouldn't I just went ahead and fuck you the first time I got you under me?"

You were left speechless and so he continued. "The first time I kissed you, I left because I couldn't stop feeling like shit for using you to get back at him." you didn't know what else to do or say besides crying at everything he kept saying, you wanted to get away from him but you also wanted to hear him out. "Every moment that we spent together, a part of me was starting to like you more and more."

He stepped closer to you and took your face in his hands, the both of you a mess of tears and regrets. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry it took me so long to realize how horrible I was being. I'm sorry for using you. I'll say it as many times as you deserve until you believe me and my feelings for you."

"What more do you want from me?" you had no strength in you left to fight him, you just felt broken by everything and just wanted to go home and cry to your heart's content while curled up in your bed.

"Be with me." your eyes widen in shock, feeling your breath being knocked out of you as you felt his lips connect with every inch of his face. "Leave him and be with me. I know it's going to take time for you to trust me, but I know I can treat you better than him."

You shook your head in disbelief, pulling his hands away from you and starting to walk away from him. He didn't dare to follow.

It had been almost a month since that fateful night.

You isolated yourself from everyone, barely having the will to leave your bed much less talk to anyone about the going-ons in your life. You just wanted to be alone.

You had since broken up with your cheating ex, you hadn't even bothered to give him a reason - you just wanted to get rid of everything that involved him in your life.

You also hadn't talked to Jungkook since then. He still messaged you, almost daily, just wanting to check on you and continuously apologizing. You read all of them but you never replied once.

You couldn't forget his last words before you walked away from him, the words that constantly haunted you - how could he just expect you to be with him after everything he confessed to you that night? The worst part was that, a part of you did want to be with him… but how could you let yourself be vulnerable and trust him after what he made you go through?

You didn't know what to do anymore…

#bts #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader

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inspector-montoya-fox · 9 months

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this post was initially gonna be like a lazy rant about how the Klaww Gang's team dynamics suck ass but the more i wrote the more i realised there's so much to discuss. so today let's discuss how the Klaww Gang's team dynamics suck ass but not on like surface-level y'know?

i'm not even sure if the Klaww Gang qualifies as an actual gang because they barely even acknowledge each other? their interactions are very scarce. off the top of my head we get Rajan's party which they all attend apart from Dimitri (Dimitri attending Rajan's party would be so bizarre btw) and Jean Bison's phone call with Arpeggio. these are things friends do so maybe they should be the Klaww Friends ? i mean they have the sinister-looking conference room but we never see them hold a meeting there. moreover, they all act out of pure self-interest. they each got a Clockwerk part and just went on to do their own thing like counterfeit, drug production, etc. i mean what's even the point of forming a gang if their goal was to just split Clockwerk parts and then disband? did they have any other operations in the works? Arpeggio was planning on double-crossing the rest of the members anyway and he needed them to actually have the parts for his plan to come to fruition but still seems a bit pointless.

interesting question: how exactly did the Cairo Museum heist go down? was it like a group activity or pulled off by a single member? or did Arpeggio have Neyla break in and take them? because i can't imagine the Klaww Gang members coming together like an Ocean's movie to steal a bunch of robot owl parts? in fact, i can't imagine any of them stealing in the traditional like robber kinda way. with the exception of Bison and maybe Arpeggio, they're all shown to have some sort of prestige in their own part of the world: Dimitri was an established artist and nightclub owner and as shown in the comics hanged out with elitist socialites; the Contessa was a high-ranking Interpol officer; Rajan threw a lavish ball with hundreds of guests. like i wouldn't be surprised if the Klaww Gang members had institutional power. maybe they just bribed the museum to give them the parts?

and then there's the fact that they were a complete failure. i can't help but compare them to the Fiendish Five, who, let's admit it, won. they "won" in the sense that they achieved their goal. it's not like anyone stopped them. sure, Sly whooped their ass years later but they still killed ConnEr and split the Thievius Raccoonus. they went on with their lives until Sly grew up. like the first game is very much a revenge story. the Klaww Gang? not so much. the game takes place right after the Cairo Museum heist so all their scheming and plans could only take place for like maybe a couple of months max. and let's not forget they were also tricked by Neyla. flops.

i'm not sure why but i also think the Fiendish Five can evade the criticisms highlighted above even though they were also a bunch of strangers? Clockwerk was a much more menacing boss than Arpeggio (if Arpeggio can even be considered a boss. more like a final member), like i don't think anyone from the Fiendish Five would dare question his plan or motivations. but also, i think there was an underlining sense of camaraderie when each of them warned us about the next one post-bossfight, like at least some respect. i can't say the same for the Klaww Gang, like i can't even imagine the Contessa, Jean Bison and Dimitri interacting with each other (and now i suddenly can't think of anything i need more in my life). Clockwerk feels like the Fiendish Five's employer and he brought them together to pull off something kinda sacred like continuing the cycle of raccoon murders. basically they got together and did a thing and that was it like they just casually went on with their lives after that. Clockwerk was immortal, for all we know and as i have previously theorised there could have been previous iterations of the Fiendish Five throughout history. just baddies recruited by Clockwerk to help him take down the Coopers.

so yea. the Klaww Gang very much sucked ass but !!! i think it was for the better. even if i compared them to the Fiendish Five, i feel like SP wanted to set the expectations by making it seem like we were going to receive something similar just to then have things go down very differently. the Klaww Gang is different because its members (were under the illusion that they) were autonomous. they weren't let in on the big picture (What is this with clocks, bro? Have you no vision?) and they all thought they were the gang's top dog. this made for something very different, especially when you throw Neyla and outlawed Carmelita into the mix. but their team dynamics still sucked ass.

#how have you guys been?#my mom asked me what ace attorney is while we were away on family vacation and i was like... sis are you serious #your offspring has been obsessed with this intellectual property for more than half a decade and just now you ASK ?#gagged me a bit for sure #she was like “is the main character that guy that wears an old burgundy suit?” i almost choked on the shrimp risotto istg #she wants to play it but she kinda like... made a yucky face when i told her it has supernatural elements too #sly cooper #the Klaww Friends

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poisonousquinzel · 1 year

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read #11 of the Poison Ivy comic and my opinion on Janet is unchanged. I still find her obnoxiously pushy about subjects that she frankly doesn't have room to speak on. Trying to constantly say that 'Ivy's not like this' (about being ya know, a violent murderous plant woman) as if she knows next to anything about her as a person and hasn't been witness to her killing people.

Ivy literally killed her entire previous office building and then had it set alight in Gotham City Villains Anniversary Giant #1. She "spared" her boss as Janet's request by turning her into a gigantic fucking plant.

Like Ivy isn't a KNOWN criminal with a kill count in the hundreds at minimum.

Or her pushing Ivy and getting pissed only to kiss her like 3 seconds later, accusing her of doing something to the CEO chick when Ivy had literally been kneeling in front of her and hugging her, not exactly Fighting Stance sorta moment and then immediately telling her to fix it.

Her getting pissed that Ivy used her control over the lamia to get all the group members to stand in a blockade with her, like ???? Ma'am, she's Poison Ivy. Who the fuck did you think you were hanging around with??

And the "you dragged us here against our will?" via the dumbass concoction that, oh, right, Janet dragged them here and ultimately led to them to drinking. The one that she was ecstatic to keep drinking and was perfectly happy to reap the benefits from when it was something she wanted.

Ya know, the whole "At that point, I stop resisting. The hallucinogens. The weird vibes. Janet."

Saying, "I stop resisting." in the context of their make out session is not a display of enthusiastic consent, but whatever.

"you put our lives in danger for your own agenda" DUH, WHO DOES SHE THINK PAMELA IS????? like if she started this whole thing not knowing this was Poison Ivy, that'd be one thing, but she does. And she acts fucking stupid every time Ivy dares to act outta line in her view of the world.

Or when Ivy, idk, acts in character.

"you know what I am Janet." Like it's not as if she ain't trying to constantly remind her who the fuck she is, what she's done.

"This is not what you are. This is what you were."

She acts like they've known each other for Years and allllllll that bad stuff she doesn't approve of was just how Ivy was in the beginning, and all of this is some little missteps after years of recovery and rehabilitation and shit. And it's just Not. It's been a couple of months, at the most.

Sometimes we have wishful images and expectations of folks that just aren't realistic and eventually, she's gonna have to come to terms with the fact that the woman she believes Ivy to be because of a couple acts of kindness does not mean that she's this picture perfect image of an Environmental Activist with a pure non violent heart who would just hug all the trees if it meant world peace ❤️

This woman that she's built up inside her head as Ivy, is not Ivy. And has never been the Ivy in front of her.

Janet. Does. Not. Know. Her.

If she did, she wouldn't be acting like she has throughout the past two chapters. She wouldn't have dragged her to a wellness retreat that Ivy would OBVIOUSLY not morally align with.

and then she kisses her??? Ivy's trying to talk and get through to her that even if she's not Scum Of The Earth Villain With No Moral Code, that there is some things she just can't change. Ivy can't just ignore the way the world is or the way the earth is screaming in pain caused by humans.

No matter how hard she may want to, she's always going to be part plant. She's always going to have this drive and deep seeded want to protect plant life. She can't cut that out of her, it's just another part of her.

And, frankly, if she Wanted to put them in danger, if she wanted to truly make a stand in that moment. She could have just killed those two people. She could have made Them kill those two people.

She didn't. She did save the entire group, she took them out to stand and when the situation got out of hand and she realized those people were going to run them over, she saved all of them and got all of them out of there. She could have just left. She could have just popped into the earth herself and let them to deal with the consequences, where it be physical injuries or otherwise.

But instead of letting her talk, she kisses her and starts on her "oh, but I know you so much better than you know yourself clearly. I don't believe you when you tell me you're a way and then I'm gonna get bitchy when you act like how you said you are. :)"

"I don't believe you. You saved us when you could have sacrificed us." Also, sorry, but what the fuck would Ivy have even gained from "sacrificing them"??? She didn't believe those folks would actually try n run over a group of people, that's it. Them all dying aside from her wasn't going to stop what they were there trying to prevent anyway.

But why would I expect Janet to know shit about the finer details or even basic surface level shit in regards to larger problems that Ivy's trying to deal with.

Also, love her just dodging Ivy's now repeated "this was not something I should have done nor should it continue" in regards to their Less Platonic physical contact. Like, lady is Fully aware that Ivy not only has a woman waiting for her back in Gotham, but that Ivy's In Love with that woman.

And Ivy straight up said that sleeping with her was One of several mistakes, in the last chapter.

'Harley would understand. She knows what it's like to get caught up in the moment. I could just tell her about this. We could laugh about it together.

But I immediately start to feel guilty that I let this happen at all."

Like it doesn't matter to Ivy if Harley would be okay with it or if that's what she was implying with the "side quest" comment, because to Her, it doesn't feel right.

"But I immediately start to feel guilty that I let this happen at all." That I Let This Happen At All.

But also again, pointing out that quote above

"At that point, I stop resisting. The hallucinogens. The weird vibes. Janet."

and how all her actions in this scene were influenced by the same drugged goop the rest of the retreaters were high on.

"There's a reason I had trouble resisting the hallucinogenic properties of that green goop."

"What? What is it? Did I do something wrong?"

"No. I did something wrong."

"You mean sleeping with me?"

"Okay, I did several things wrong. -"

But sure, okay kiss her when she's trying to talk after she's already expressed to you that what happened was a mistake.

And then Janet stops her from dealing with the chick that Actually caused all this? Who was getting snippy and aggressive towards Ivy? Where's all your fucking anger towards the woman who actually drugged all you, you fucking moron.

"I thought you were only going to murder the real bad guys now."

well, tbf I don't think you're exactly a keen candidate for deciding who the "Real Bad Guys" are, Janet.

but Ivy stops, and tries to reason and be understanding with the chick.

Her responses "Gwen? Hey! Are you okay? What's going on" just oh so definitely sound like what someone would say if she were making the situation inside Gwen's body worsen significantly, at least to Fucking Janet Apparently.

"What the-- what have you done to her?"

Sweetie, are you stupid? What kinda person would create a reaction like Gwen's having and kneel there being like ""Gwen? Hey! Are you okay? What's going on?"

everything Gwen's getting is called self inflicted Karma.

Obviously Ivy would know she's not okay if she was actively killing her. Or like, maybe how she wouldn't get down and hug her if she still planned on murdering her?? Why would she be calming the situation down just to be like "Ha! Sike!" She's not exactly the jokester type, Janet.

Their whole dynamic is just

Ivy: says or does typical "Protect the planet" Ivy stuff that she's been doing since before this comic started (and significantly before Janet came into the picture)

Janet: wow, I can't believe you'd do such a thing, this is so unlike you.

Like, I'm sorry you're a dumb bitch Janet but boo hoo, almost like crimes and violence comes along with hanging around a mass murderer. 💀 Am I supposed to feel sympathetic for her? She's got no reason to still be hanging around Ivy if she doesn't like how she exists or how she operates in her day to day Less Than Legal activities.

#im not saying i want janet from hr to die but i want janet from hr to die already #its really disappointing that i can barely enjoy these chapters because her character is so goddamn aggravating #dc comics #poison ivy #pamela isley #harlivy #harley quinn #harleen quinzel #♧ comic thoughts ♧

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house-of-galathynius · 1 year

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Take Me Away

A little smutty one-shot for everyone, inspired by the fan who kissed Matty from the 1975! @rowanaelinn I hope this is good enough... 😈

Warnings: NSFW

Word Count: 3.2k

Rowan was tired. That’s what he felt as he switched his white t-shirt to a black button down shirt— purposely leaving the top few undone to expose his chest. He sighed as he ran his hands through his hair to try and make it look purposely ruffled— noticing the bags under his eyes and the thinness of his cheeks.

It was the last gig of his bands tour. They’d played every city in the country— some more than once— and he was exhausted. He hated the the crazy fans who followed him to his tour bus, the ones who would wait outside hotels or restaurants. He was never interested in them and just wanted to be left alone. But there was a certain lifestyle that came with this profession, and for the sake of his band and maybe himself, he made an effort to play along.

Lorcan poked his head around his dressing room door, his own hair let loose down his back and his printed tee tight across his torso. “Two minutes, Rowan.”

Lorcan had been with Rowan since the band had started three years ago. He’d stayed even though he hated the fame and wanted to just be invisible— living his life with Elide in the countryside, raising kids and animals and just being. But Rowan had needed his friend; if not for moral support, for the fact that Lorcan was the best fucking drummer on the entire continent.

Rowan gave up on trying to sort out his mess of a head and followed his friend out to the long hallway that eventually led to the side of the stage. He attempted a smile as he let an assistant set his microphone and earplugs up— ignoring her suggestive smile and lingering touches.

Their other bandmate, Fenrys grimaced. “Rowan, man. It’s the last fucking show of the tour, at least try to look happy about it.”

Lorcan laughed. “Fen, he’s been moping since Lyria dumped him six months ago. He won’t be happy until he’s had a beer and a good fuck.”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “I’ll take the beer. But there’s no woman that has even vaguely interested me.” He readjusted his earplugs, “they’re all groupies who just want to say they’ve fucked a celebrity.”

Fenrys’ eyes widened. “And the problem is? What guy would complain about having hundreds of girls willing to jump into bed with them? You’re fucking insane, Whitethorn.”

“You’ve seen the type that hang around us. They’re not exactly…” he trailed off, not sure how to describe the girls. Of course, he knew that his friends were right. He needed to just get it out of his system and take a girl home.

Lorcan handed him a glass— a mysterious clear liquid in it. His friend noticed his hesitation and sighed, “it’s vodka. Drink it all and have a good fucking time.”

The crowd went wild as they stepped out onto the stage. Their screams filling his ears and it took everything in him not to wince at the noise. Instead he smiled wide and waved to them. He found the microphone in the centre of the stage and pulled it from the stand, bringing it to his lips and shouting to the crowds, hyping them up as they began to play their first song.

Rowan always lost himself in the music and the performing. It’s what kept him going, the passion he had for it was what prevented him from quitting. And maybe sometimes he did like the cheers of the crowd, the way they’d sing along to each song and scream when he’d speak. It was satisfying in a strange way.

The lights that shone into the crowd were bright but Rowan still tried to pick out people from the crowd— making jokes with them and chatting like they were friends in between songs. It had been a normal thing for him to do throughout the tour and there were occasions he enjoyed the conversations he’d have.

During his next song he searched the crowd for people, never quite sure what exactly he was looking for. Perhaps someone who was a bit too drunk who would make the crowd laugh, or a couple who were celebrating an anniversary— or maybe just a woman who would catch his attention and make him feel something again.

The song finished and he hyped the crowd up, talking and laughing with them easily. He was turning back to the stage when he paused… his eyes focusing onto a flash of golden hair. His gaze followed it and his chest tightened as he saw the most beautiful woman pushing her way to the front. She was smiling wide towards the stage, her phone waving in her hand— text that was too small for him to read on the screen.

Rowan couldn’t take his eyes off of her, even as he transitioned into the next song and she began her dance again, her hair wild around her, sweat beading down her chest. She was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. She waved the phone at him again, moving perfectly in time with the beat, her hips swaying and head bobbing to the song. He was high on performing, the shots he had done before coming on starting to hit him; which was why he didn’t think about it when he jumped down from the stage; wincing as he landed a little too hard, but striding to the fence separating the crowd and gesturing to her.

He battled with the other fans going crazy at his proximity, only focusing on the stunning, wild-haired woman who had captured him. He waved her forward, the crowd slightly parting, but not enough. He pointed to her phone and she grinned, holding it up higher. He squinted to read the words and then he laughed.

Should we make out?

His stomach tightened. She was beautiful, and it had been so long since he’d been this captivated by a woman.

Lorcan and Fenrys were keeping the crowd busy as he gestured for her to come forward with a wink and a smirk. Except he didn’t wait to see if she did what he said, climbing back up onto the stage and continuing his set. He glanced down once and he felt his heart speed up as the golden haired angel was being lifted over the fence. Rowan was grinning as he extended his hand to her and then pulling her up onto stage alongside him.

He had no fucking clue what he was doing. He’d seen her in the crowd and thought she was stunning. And now he had her on stage and she was still swaying to the music, singing along. Unfazed at the change of scenery.

He felt a pull towards her, like the universe needed him to be closer. He followed her step for step. Closing the gap between them, then his arm finding it’s way around her waist and the hand with the mic in it, lifting to her mouth. She sang with such confidence and carelessness that Rowan found himself utterly mesmerised. She was laughing and he found himself smiling with her.

Fenrys started his guitar solo and Rowan took the moment to lean in closer, his mouth going to her ear, “want to make out?” He chuckled.

She pulled back a centimetre, mischief in her eyes and she nodded once. Rowan had never done anything like this in his life, he’d never brought a girl on stage— he’d spent his entire career trying not to bring attention to his love life (or lack thereof). But this girl… she was intoxicating.

The crowd were screaming and cheering and he took his hand to cradle one side of her face and then with absolutely no hesitation, he leant in and pressed his lips against hers.

They were soft and warm and tasted like cherries. She was delicious and magnetic and he couldn’t pull away. All Rowan could do was bring her in closer, his hand tightening on her face, his mouth slanting against hers to deepen the kiss. She was more than receptive and opened her mouth to let him in and their tongues brushed and he almost groaned at the feel of it all.

And then she was pulling away, stumbling back a few steps. Her hand went to her mouth and she was laughing again, eyes alight with amusement. Rowan blinked and then he was smiling too and following her, gripping her hands and pulling her into him. The screaming fans and world around him faded away and it was just him and the golden haired goddess.

“Go off to the side. Wait for me.” Rowan growled into her ear. His veins were thrumming with excitement. He gripped her bare arms and finally surveyed her properly. The slinky black dress that she wore, the way it dipped precariously low, the swell of her breasts peaking out.

Holy rutting Gods.

He could feel himself getting hard imagining what was underneath it. He imagined having her up against a wall or spread out on the sofa in his dressing room. He thought about the way he would feel beneath her and the sounds she would make as he took her to heaven.

The girl looked at him with a glint in her eyes. She didn’t say a word to him as a security guy came to help her off the stage. Rowan gave him a look that said don’t let her go anywhere.

Rowan was in a daze as he finished the set and thanked the crowd for coming. He didn’t remember hugging his bandmates and bowing at the end, laughing.

All he remembered was seeing the fiery woman leaning against a wall. She held a beer in one hand and her phone in the other. She was staring at him as he moved towards her. There were no words exchanged as Rowan walked straight past her, knowing that she was following him wherever he went.

His room was empty when he roughly opened the door. The girl had followed him just like he’d thought and she quietly closed it behind her. She took a long swig of her beer and then tossed the bottle in the trash beside her, looking around the room curiously.

“So this is the famous Rowan Whitethorn’s dressing room.” She mused.

“What’s your name?” He said, ignoring her comment.

She grinned. “Aelin.”

Aelin. It suited her.

The two of them watched the other. There was plenty of space between them but all Rowan could feel was the pull of her. Like they were magnets. It was only a matter of time before they would come together.

“What did you bring me back here for, Rowan?”

He rose a brow.

“I’m not just some groupie who will spread her legs for any celebrity, you know. No matter how hot they are.”

Rowan stepped closer. “And yet you held your phone up asking if we could make out.”

Aelin stood her ground, even as he moved another step towards her.

“Why did you agree to come back here then?”

She cocked her head. “Maybe I just wanted to talk.”

He could see the rise and fall of her chest quicken. Her breasts were tempting him. He could rip her dress down and take them in his mouth. He could close the distance between them and snake his hand beneath her legs and feel how wet she was for him. He could play with her until she was writhing and coming and begging him to fuck her.

“I don’t think that’s why you came at all.” His voice had turned gravelly— partly from the singing— but mostly from the utter desire he had for her. All he could think about was her naked and ready. He wanted to fuck her hard and fast. He wanted to hear the sounds she would make as he slipped into her.

Aelin tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. The act was so timid and innocent that it made his cock twitch.

“Why did I come?”

Wasn’t that a loaded question.

Rowan couldn’t wait any longer. He closed the gap between them, backing Aelin up against the wall leaving her with nowhere to go. She was so much smaller than he was, his body towering over her. But he liked the control, he liked having the upper hand.

Aelin did not say anything as Rowan bent his head down, his mouth brushed her neck and she shivered. “I think you know exactly why you came here.”

Her head tilted to the side allowing him more access. He didn’t hesitate to take the offer. He peppered kisses over the soft skin, nipping her ear and then leaving a mark on her neck where he had sucked, almost groaning at the taste of her.

“I didn’t want to assume, you know.”

Rowan laughed darkly. She was a little liar. But he didn’t care. He kissed her cheek and then the corner of her mouth before finally sealing her lips with his. He wasn’t careful or gentle. His lips attacked her own and they were like animals as Rowan’s hand slid down her waist and to her bare thigh, lifting it to come around his own waist. His other hand tangled itself in her hair and he pressed himself against her. They kissed like their lives depended on it and she was moaning under him.

He dropped her leg and he used his free hand to slip it under the flimsy fabric of her dress. A jolt of delight went through him when he brushed her centre and realised she hadn’t put on any underwear. He broke away from kissing her and she was already staring at him with mischief in her eyes— like she had planned this whole thing.

“You naughty girl.” He laughed.

She shrugged, like this was a normal thing. Like she always seduced men like this. “Are we going to fuck or not?”

Rowan didn’t know what to do with her. She was unlike any woman he had ever encountered and every word out of her mouth was a pleasant surprise. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

“I didn’t take off my panties and kiss you on stage just to come in here and talk.”

There was a second where the air in the room seemed to pause, time seemed to stop. And then everything was moving at double speed.

Aelin was ripping open the few buttons he did have done up, tearing off his shirt and throwing on the floor. Rowan was bunching up her dress, his hands were squeezing her ass and then sliding to her front. His finger dragged up her centre and she was so wet. His finger was dripping as he brought it between them and put it to his mouth, sucking off her juices before returning it between them and containing his assault.

Aelin was fumbling with his belt and then the button of his jeans before she was pulling down his trousers and underwear at once, letting his cock spring free. He was hard as rock and he didn’t stop her as she got down on her knees before him, her hand coming around his base, the other pulling her hair back. Then her mouth was coming over him, licking his tip and then with one swift movement taking him into her entirely. She was warm and wet and her tongue was torturing him as she sucked him, her head bobbing up and down as she pleasured him. He groaned when he hit the back of her throat and couldn’t stop himself as he put a hand on the back of her head and pulled her forward, directing her as she devoured him.

Rowan was too close. He pulled Aelin away and with little care for gentleness, yanked her up so that he could kiss her hard and lead her to the sofa. He kicked off his trousers and shoes and helped Aelin lift her own dress off of her. Her breasts were perfect, her nipples stiff peaks as he pinched them between his fingers then sucked them hard, letting them go with little pops. Aelin allowed him to pull her down with him; Rowan sitting on the sofa and then Aelin coming to perch atop him. She ground against his length and they both sighed in pleasure. Her pussy was soaking and she slid across him easily.

“Condom?” She asked breathlessly.

Rowan just nodded and thanked the gods that Fenrys had thrown some in his dressing room earlier that day. He leant to the side and fumbled in the bag next to him until his hands came across the foil packet. It didn’t take him any time at all to rip it open with his teeth, Aelin moving to the side so he could slide it down.

“I want you on top.” He growled out.

Aelin didn’t argue as she came back over him. Her naked body positioned itself over him and with absolutely no resistance, slipped down onto his rock hard length.

Rowan was dying. Or maybe he wasn’t. All he could feel was her tight around him. His cock filling her all the way and the way her hands gripped his shoulders tightly as she rose above him and then slowly sank back down. She felt divine. Her head fell forwards and he found her mouth, kissing her with a ferocity that surprised even himself. Aelin kept moving on him, her hips rolling so that she rubbed against him too. Rowan started to meet her half way, his own hips jerking upwards as she came down, the resulting slap of skin music to his ears.

They found their rhythm easily and he was moaning out her name and she was crying out at every thrust.

This must be what heaven feels like, he thought.

“Fuck me harder.” She ground out.

Rowan didn’t need to be told.

He gripped her waist and flipped them over so that she was lying on her back now. Her hair splayed around her, her cheeks flushed and eyes closed as Rowan thrust into her once again. He was a savage as he pounded into her, his hand going to her neck. Seeing her bare before him, his hand on her throat and the feel of her clenching around him was enough to send him over the edge.

His last thrusts were hard and fast as he started to come undone inside her.

And just as they were reaching their climax, their moans syncing together. The door to the room flung open.

“Get the fuck out.” Rowan didn’t even look, still buried deep inside Aelin as he growled out the words. The door promptly shut and he could hear the surprised laughter through it.

Aelin was laughing underneath him too, she was flushed from her orgasm and her neck red from where he had held. But she was beautiful and Rowan was already hardening inside her. There was absolutely no way he was ever going to let her go— at least not tonight.

So he gathered her in his arms, setting her on her feet and then handing her the discarded dress, Rowan pulling on his own clothes too. Before gripping her hand and pulling her to the door.

“Where are we going?” She asked, breathless.

“A place where I can fuck you all night with no interruptions.” He glanced behind to Aelin, “unless you’d rather go home and pleasure yourself?”

She chuckled. “Take me away, Rowan Whitethorn.”

Tag List:

@morganofthewildfire @tomtenadia @fredweasleyhasadhd @luckyrunawaycheesecake @live-the-fangirl-life @fireheart-violet @charlizeed @scarblx @xo-fangirl-xo @wordsafterhours @jesstargaryenqueen @sailorsassley @sjmships @endlessdaydream @aflickeringsoul @tillyrubes10 @rowaelin-cressworth @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @rowaelinismyotp @rosegoldannie @maryberry @viajandosinalas @becarefuloflove @allthebooksunderthemoon @sheharahu @swankii-art-teacher @superspiritfestival @becarefuloflove @tanvee1231 @viajandosinalas @backtobl4ck @emily-gsh @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @becarefuloflove @goddess-aelin @thegreyj @leiawritesstories @nerdperson524 @rowanaelinn

#rowaelin #rowan #aelin #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #aelin ashryver #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #the 1975 #matty healy

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girlfromthecrypt · 11 months

Text

My dog and I just had the shittiest road trip.

I’m in a long distance relationship with my partner of four years. They live a seven hour drive from me, and every weekend, I pack up my things, load up the truck and go on the long-ass trip it takes me to see them. By now, I’m used to the potholes, the traffic jams, the impromptu bladder stops and horrendous gas station bathrooms. Now, I love my partner so it’s all worth it to me, but goddamn, the roads are crappy. It doesn’t help that they live off-the-grid, in a hard to find spot. The drive can actually be sort of dangerous sometimes.

Due to personal reasons, my partner can’t join me at my place in the city and even though I want to eventually move in with them, moving out into the sticks would just murder my career right now. It’s a frustrating situation and our only option is basically to hang on and wait for our circumstances to change. Until then, every Friday afternoon and every Sunday night, it’s “truckin’ time” for my dog and me. That’s what I’ve come to call these long car rides, and last Friday was about the worst one so far.

It started innocently enough. I hurled my bag into the back of my vehicle and whistled for my Borzoi. “Pasha! Truckin’ time!”

This has become a specific command for Pasha, and each time he hears it, he comes barreling towards me at high speed and leaps onto the passenger seat. Over the years, it’s turned into this practiced performance of ours. I open the door at exactly the right time for him to land the perfect jump, all in one elegant, fluid motion. Not to brag, but we’re a great team; it’s almost like a circus act. And Pasha is wonderful company. He’s sweet and doesn’t mind curling up next to me while I drive, as long as I occasionally give him a treat and stop for walks, pees and cuddles.

Okay, there was that one time when we got stuck in traffic. It was a hot day and stressful as hell, and he decided out of the blue that the best thing to get my mind off the jam was to loudly sing me the song of his people; but other than that, he’s the best.

So this Friday, we did our little circus act, I strapped him into his restraint and we got on our way. Everything was going smoothly. The first two hours, we drove freely and unhindered. I was in a fairly good mood when I pulled over at a rest stop for Pasha to stretch those long, spindly legs of his. We walked a couple paces, he took a good long piss against a trash can while no one was looking, then I took a good long piss against that same trash can because the bastards were charging for restroom usage, and we climbed back into our car for the next stretch.

The following eighty minutes went well enough, but around the one and a half-hour mark, Pasha was getting a bit fidgety. Naturally, I stopped and got him out, but he didn’t do anything. He just stood frozen on the ground beside the truck, staring straight ahead with his tubular nose pointing at something in the distance up ahead. Following his gaze, I couldn’t spot anything out of the ordinary. After several minutes of me trying to figure out what had him so uneasy, I decided I didn’t have time for this. I got him to hop back in and we drove on. There was a tunnel coming up in about two hundred-something meters, and by the time I reached it, mine was the only car on the road. What few others had been in front of me had taken the exit off to the right shortly before.

So we headed into the tunnel. Totally normal. We always took this route, I basically knew it by heart at that point. It’s not like I had some kind of phobia or fear of tunnels, but for some reason, I felt extremely apprehensive all of a sudden. I purposefully slowed down, rolling up to the entrance at a tempered pace. The concrete arch looked very much like a dark maw to me at that moment. I was a tad ashamed of myself, really; I had no idea why I was so skittish when I had passed this same stretch of road hundreds of times before. It was nothing new to me, and yet, my skin erupted into gooseflesh as I got closer and closer to the tunnel.

And that’s when I saw it.

It was only there for a split second, but my weary eyes caught a glimpse of something that looked like an enormous hand. Six long, thin, coal-black fingers had gripped onto the outer edge of the concrete arch, and I spotted them just in time as they peeled off and withdrew, vanishing into the darkness inside. For a moment, my brain got “hung up”, just… temporarily stopped working as it tried to process the image my sense of vision had sent up to it. I gaped at the now still, unmoving, unsuspecting opening ahead of me, and before I could bring my car to a stop, I had already rolled on into the tunnel.

Pasha lost it. The second the concrete had swallowed us, he started howling and barking, frantically tossing his head and pounding the faded leather seat with his paws. He’d risen to his full height, or rather the extent of it the limited space of the truck and his restraint allowed, and he was raising hell. I couldn’t blame him. I was at a complete loss, and a part of me desperately wanted to hold onto the hope that what I had seen had merely been an illusion created by an overactive imagination and eyestrain. I didn’t stay in denial for long. Pasha kept pointing his snout up like he was trying to get my attention, and when I finally put two and two together, I remembered that I had a sunroof.

I tipped my head back, looking through the glass at the ceiling of the tunnel outside, only for my heart to jump into my throat. There was something staring in at me, two wide eyes meeting mine. It was about five or six times the size of a person and of humanoid shape, but absolutely emaciated. Its skin was dark, not the normal kind of dark but literal jet black, and it didn’t appear to have a single hair on its head. The thing was clinging to the round top of the concrete corridor, its giant body curled up and flattened against the curve of the tunnel. I only managed to catch a quick peek at it before I instinctively whipped my head back down and stepped on the gas.

My truck lurched forward. The engine howled, Pasha howled. I howled. I was gripped by raw, naked terror; the hands with which I was clutching the steering wheel were laced with cold sweat and my chest felt as though it was going to burst. The light at the end of the tunnel was becoming brighter, bigger, closer, my unblinking gaze trained on it as I sped towards it for dear life. Glancing up through the sunroof, I could spot the creature scuttling across the length of the ceiling, its movements almost resembling those of a large spider. Squeezing the last possible bit of effort from my wailing truck, I tightened my grip on the wheel, knuckles turning white as a quiet prayer passed my lips.

The thing arrived at the end of the tunnel at about the same time I did. Its two long arms swooped down like a bird of prey as it reached for me. My stomach turned, I pressed my eyes shut and, with a feral yank of the wheel, I sent my car swerving, dodging its long, greedy fingers by a hair’s breadth. Bright daylight enveloped me as I emerged from the tunnel. I did not even think of slowing down. I didn’t allow myself to look over my shoulder, but I knew I was safe again when I saw several other cars in the distance ahead. These things only come for me when I’m alone.

Pasha’s yowls had turned into whines and heavy, huffing snorts. I reached over to run a trembling hand through his silky fur. “You okay?”

My dog leaned into the touch, nosing my lower arm.

“I had a feeling you were trying to warn me. Sorry I didn’t listen.” I reached into the middle console to grab a small treat for him. He gently closed his teeth around it, careful as he took it from my shaking fingers. God, I love that animal.

We got in line with all the other vehicles. Seeing the other cars and the people behind the windows instilled within me a feeling of intense relief, like the weight of a boulder having been taken off my chest. The sun was beginning to sink below the horizon, painting the sky pink and ruby red. I watched, my soaring heart rate slowing at the pacifying sight. I didn’t want to have to get out of the car after dark, so I pulled over at the next possible stop. It was a bare, dreary little patch of asphalt where two trucks had parked, their owners most likely asleep inside. I rounded my truck to open the door for Pasha, who seemed all too happy to get his noodle nose out into the fresh air. He took a big dump on the side of the road, drank some water and then experienced a brief episode of the zoomies, likely brought on by the earlier tension.

I was stretching my legs and back as I watched him jump around, but my smile fell when he suddenly went still and ramrod straight. He was staring at something again, something I couldn’t make out. Whatever had caught his attention seemed to be located on the opposite side of the road, but between the cars rushing past and the gentle gleam of the evening redness, I couldn’t make out anything out of the ordinary. Still, I was not about to ignore my dog’s sixth sense again, so I hastily strapped him back into his seat and returned to my spot behind the wheel.

The next twenty minutes passed by uneventfully, but I was admittedly on edge. Pasha was alert, too; sitting upright and staring out the window with an alarming degree of focus. The road dragged on and on, and to my dismay, we were pretty much by ourselves again before long. We had reached the more rural stretch of the route, trees standing tall and dense to either side, seemingly scooting closer and closer as though they wanted to push their way forth to block my path. The moon was climbing higher in the sky by then, its silvery glow keeping my headlights company in the nightly darkness. A weak comfort.

I never liked this part of the trip. One the one hand, it always means I’m nearing my destination, but I’m just so alone out in the wilderness. Unprotected. No other people, no one to help. No witnesses. Most of my worst experiences have happened while I was driving down this section.

That day would turn out to be no different.

About an hour into the journey through the woodland was when I first spotted her. A glimpse of white by the side of the road, standing just behind the treeline, only partially visible. Gone in a flash. I shuddered, and my suspicions were confirmed when Pasha uttered a drawn-out, low growl. Here we go again.

Once you’ve seen something that’s caught your attention, you will most likely keep looking for it, even though you should really be focusing on something else. That’s how it was with me. I tried to keep my eyes and mind on the road ahead, looking only at what my headlights illuminated before me. In the back of my head, however, that little glimpse of white was fighting for dominance over my thoughts. I shoved it down, gnawing on my lower lip in hopes that the sting of my teeth would help me stay concentrated. Whenever a being doesn’t outwardly show itself, you can count on it waiting for the right moment. The fuckers are smart. They know how to make you nervous, how to drive you damn near crazy. It’s best not to look at whatever’s happening on the sides of the road. Eyes wide open and ahead, safe and strong and steely. That’s the only way.

I somehow managed to ignore the white spot that drew closer to my car from the left. Two minutes later, I could see her again out of the corner of my eye, approaching from my right this time. Cold dread seeped into my bones, fear pooling in the pit of my stomach like icy water. Pasha started barking again and my teeth drew blood from my lip. I could make out almost her entire form by then. She was small, scrawny, pale and blond. Her white dress fluttered around the bony shovels of her hips like it was spun from cobwebs, and I could see each bone shifting beneath as she moved. She was trying to distract me, I knew she was—too bad it was working.

It took all my willpower not to slow down, not to abruptly pump the brakes everytime she appeared. My stomach jolted with each sudden appearance of the being, and I could practically feel her patience waning as she drew closer and closer each time in an attempt to startle me. I knew what she wanted. She would only stop when I was dead in a roadside ditch, crushed to jelly by my truck; perhaps wrapped around a tree or lying on its roof. I was not about to give her that satisfaction.

Once more, I sped up my truck, the engine’s roar like a war cry as Pasha and I shot through the night. I lowered my head, my jaw set and my gaze pointing perfectly straight ahead. And then, seemingly appearing out of thin air, she simply stood in front of my truck, right there in the middle of the road. For a brief moment, I caught a glimpse of her face. It felt like there was an invisible rope tightening around my neck. Two wide, bulbous eyes met mine from within her frame of blond hair. They were sitting in the very middle of her head, taking up far too much space. She had no mouth, no nose, no nothing; just these gigantic, piercing eyes. Pasha let out a howl, panicking as he tugged against his restraint, and while I felt exactly the same, this brief moment of terror was over before it truly began.

A loud thump rang out as the ghostly woman was snatched up by my speeding vehicle, rolling up the hood of the truck before sailing over the roof. I didn’t swerve, didn’t brake, didn’t dare to look in the mirror. I kept on driving, leaving her laying there, wherever it was the momentum of my mighty car had propelled her to. About twenty minutes later, I finally allowed myself to relax, practically melting into my seat. Pasha had drawn himself up beside me, radiating victory, and I smiled and scratched his ear. “We did it, boy.”

I, too, felt weirdly proud of myself. Normally, only one of these things makes a pass at me, but I’d managed to evade two in a row. I was exhausted, my heart was still pounding like a sledgehammer, but damn, I felt good. Pasha and I enjoyed an uneventful remainder of the trip, and when I finally pulled up outside my partner’s remote little cabin, I was ready to drop for the night. The door, adorned by a rabbit’s paw, swung open with an ear-straining creak, and I stepped into the pitch-black interior. This was a comfortable, homely kind of darkness though, and I felt immediately at ease. Taking a deep breath, I sucked in the sweet smell of herbs, oils and incense. Pasha trotted in after me, and a smile came to my face when I heard him starting to munch and slobber away at something beside the entrance. He loves the food my partner makes, and I think it’s adorable of them to put out bowls for him in anticipation of our arrival. They always do that. They’re just so thoughtful.

“Hey, honey,” I called into the room.

“How was your journey, my soul?”

“Ugh.” I plopped down on the sofa beside them, sighing deeply upon feeling one of their four arms wrap around my shoulders. “They’re getting worse. There were two of them this time. I mean, I survived, so I don’t wanna mope around or anything.”

“They’re afraid of the offspring we might create. They want to keep us apart.”

“They won’t.”

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fump-2 · 11 months

Text

History lesson

In the beginning there was r/195. Initially it was started as a way for like 3 roommates to share memes with each other. Their apartment number? 195.

As with any shitposting subreddit people find it and they shitpost. It grew semi-quickly because of its one rule, you have to post something before you leave.

Naturally there are more secret rules. This is obvious as reddit has some guidlines they like to keep, but the guy who made the subreddit from the beginning also removed things he didn't like. What's important is that they deleted a lot of bigotry. The result of him removing things was of course death threats.

Eventually the threats became too much, it was one person dealing with a hoard of edgy 15 year olds mad that their bigotry was being deleted. The apartments lease already passed so while a new community grew around this subreddit, he decided to hang it up. After a couple hundred days, the expirement ended. 195 was closed.

The community moves next door, to 196. The apartment of awesome.

The decisions those initial creators had stuck with this community, you have to post after scrolling before you leave. The community was already shappen though, the initial creator didn't like bigotry and the likes so that stuck with the new mod team.

During this time of course there's discorse. Wasp discorse, pillar discord, british people discorse. But there was never discorse about lgbtq+. It was common for a while to have posts about kicking terfs out of 196, only for there to be discorse about posting those images for karma farming.

Because of all this, that small preference from an initial guy, 196 was just a safe space for trans and nb and anyone else really (except british people, i think one person got doxxed for being british). Soon enough it just became the spot for them. Trans people attract trans people.

There's a whole lot more that could be added. The cake fucker, the fruit fucker, the pasta fucker (All one person by the way). The love of bridget from guilty gear and the slow brain rot of remembering her name (brisket, bronco, bringo). And lets not forget floppa friday.

In the end the mods decided to private it for now. They use mod tools that will probably break and a lot of problems are going to come out of new API changes from reddit so half the website went dark. The site is basically unusable for what I would check on it with all the subreddits down.

It was nice watching the evolution of 196. I was there from the start and I watched as it became gayer and gayer. I never really posted either (which was against the rule), nor am I trans/gay/secret thing. I'm a straight white male and seeing all the little gay people in my phone find and accept themselves for who they are made me very joyful. It also helped change my thinking to make sure I dont do anything bigoted while out in public.

Thank you 196. may you rest peacefully and may you live to see your resurgence.

(disclaimer some of this stuff may be wrong. dont use it as gospel. r/19684 still exist as an offchute with the same mods if you need a better account of the history.)

#196 #reddit migration #196 campfire #196 history #lgbtq #trans #r196 #r/196

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ezlebe · 2 years

Note

Greg proposing?

Greg nods idly to himself, as he glances over the chocolates at the checkout, only to abruptly find his focus on the conversation of a guy in front of him. He’s caught by something, though he’s not sure of what, except maybe the excited pitch of the guy’s voice.

He’s got headphones looped around a sunburned neck, and his phone in one hand, swiping, while the other arm loosely hangs onto a container of mixed nuts and a coke liter. “Yeah, it was great,” he says, “Chris looked – yeah! I have like a hundred pictures of just him standing there with me, but I wish I had more.”

Greg peeks slightly over the guy’s shoulder to see him going through an album for a wedding. His wedding, it looks like, and there is a whole page of him standing just next to another guy in a suit; they look happy, though, looking at each other.

“I’m really sad to be back, honestly,” the guy laughs, dropping his head, playing with the ring on his finger. “Yeah. Yeah, but like he’ll be at home, right? Exactly.”

Greg looks away from the phone, shifting the weight of the grocery basket on his arm. He peeks down in it, poking at the little green bag of Tates with a fingertip and unsure why he’s feeling sort of… akin to yet envious of, all at once, the guy in front of him.

“Thank you, dude, really,” the guy says, lifting a hand to toy with one of the headphones, “I’m glad, too.”

Greg takes the car mid-morning, slipping the request to Connie through Tom’s phone, to meet Kendall for a secret op that will probably land on Twitter within minutes. He’s pretty sure it’s only shopping for a gift for his mom, anyway, judging by the neighborhood and her upcoming birthday, but he’s admittedly unsure why.

He absently looks through the window as the car pauses at a light, glancing across ads pasted to the wall, and catches on one of two men. They’re on a porch, eyes turned toward each other, and their ringed hands are artfully posed in sharp relief between them. He stares at it for a beat, then drops his head, looking away from it with a bite at the inside of his lower lip.

He doesn’t look up until the car starts to move again, ears flushing warm. It’s just, like… trying to sell him something, he doesn’t know why it’s hooking him so bad.

Honeymoon in Cancun!

Greg flattens his mouth at the back of the magazine. He puts it away with a weak clear of his throat, scratching at the edge of his scalp, and moves down the row. He picks up a couple packs of gum, spinning them between his fingers, as he peers over to find the counter finally empty.

He sets the gum down, then reaches out and grabs a sucker from the stand. “And, um. Dunhill Reds. Please.”

The cashier turns around, bending down to slide the pack out of the shelf.

“Out of polite, uh… curiosity, what would you think is like the normal amount of time after a divorce, um – ?” Greg clears his throat, trying to choke the question mid-bursting out of him with a breath. “To get remarried?”

The bodega cashier blinks slowly, pausing with their hand hovering now on the pack of cigarettes over the counter. “Uh. Couple years, maybe? It depends on the marriage, man. Like, the first one.”

“…Right,” Greg looks down, tapping his card on the till with a sigh. “Yeah.”

The whole situation is a little awkward, because Greg spent thirty years of his life under some vague impression he would never be married. It wasn’t that he didn’t think he could, or anything, he just had a hard time imagining he would want to be with someone.

He wants to now, though, like a lot.

It’s just that he can’t really know for sure if Tom feels the same, or, like… even how Tom feels like about marriage as an institution anymore. The last one had ended a bit ignominiously, to say the least.

Tom did say he’d rather be married to Greg than Shiv, once, which isn’t… It’s not nothing, but it’s also not a straight out I want to be married to you. He hasn’t hinted about anything like that since the divorce was filed, either, or since they hooked up, or got more serious, or even moved in; not after he no longer had anything to try to get out of or imagine was different. It’s all just been a few joking uses of Sporus, which isn’t so wonderful a comparison, since Greg looked that up only to read Nero chose him because he wanted his wife back.

It’s nice what they do have – about the same, really, with the living situation and the sex and the mutual bias toward each other. Greg has even put Tom down as an emergency contact.

He doesn’t know why he can’t get marriage out of his head, and –

Fuck, but the targeted ads popping up on his phone now really aren’t helping the situation.

“Greg? You asleep?”

“What?” Greg says, looking up with a startled blink, as he takes a deep breath. “Asleep?”

“Uh-huh.” Tom huffs and leans up, reaching out, and angles Greg’s head to loudly kiss him at the temple. “Because you’re daydreaming.”

“Oh, sorry,” Greg says, leaning his hip into the edge of the counter. He’s been watching Tom make sauce, and gnocchi, and… and thinking about ads.

“You’re not over there ruminating on how to ruin me, are you?”

Greg feels his face fall, slightly, “No?”

Tom peeks back over with a single eye narrowed to stare. “That wasn’t very sure.”

“I’m not,” Greg says, sweeping his hand up across his face, rubbing at his forehead, then into his hair. “Just… hungry, I guess.”

“Good,” Tom says, waving his wooden spoon for a mocking scold, then setting it down while reaching for the steaming gnocchi. “Because I think this recipe was planned for a family of ten.”

Greg hums a low murmur to agree and scratches against his face, looking down while it’s all stirred in together. He eats too much dinner, he watches a few episodes of some drama, he scrolls through his phone, he goes to bed late – nearly every moment spent next to Tom.

“I was just thinking,” he whispers, into the shifting city dark, so many hours later that his answer has drifted into the next day, “…About being married.”

Tom doesn’t answer or move, or anything, except snore quiet, because he’s asleep.

Greg stares at the couple in front of him, somewhat aghast, then looks over his shoulder just to confirm that this is like actually happening, and also that he’s not in front of like a fountain, or something, because it’s still just the steps down into the bagel place. He flinches at a loud, rapid, bright click of a camera to his left, and wonders if the couple met here, or something, because he finds the food a bit solidly mid, as they say. He only likes it because it’s closest.

“Greg?” Tom tuts, from the phone that Greg had entirely forgotten was pressed to his ear. “Did I lose you?

“Ye-yeah? Um, no,” Greg swallows, ducking his head, as heat floods his face in some second-hand reaction. “I think someone just got engaged in front of me?”

“Engaged, as in to be married?” Tom lifts his voice in understandable disbelief. “It’s 8:14 AM on a Wednesday. You either have psychosis, or you witnessed it.”

“Romance is, uh… is subjective.” Greg sucks at his lower lip, leaning forward to peer down the street. “They didn’t even get a bagel, though. Just pictures.”

“Jesus, I’m going to call it at… they never even make it to the alter, if they already can’t cater,” Tom says, briefly putting on a nasal accent , then falling back into his own scathingly bland voice. “And it’s just tacky – I’ve seen… well.” He pauses for an odd beat, then clears his throat. “I’ve seen around some private formal engagement photos, taken post-proposal, which I think are – It would’ve been classier, than shocking someone on the street. As a keepsake.”

“…Like in a park?” Greg asks, carefully, leaning against the back of a bench while clutching his bagel bag.

“Or the bridge, or at a lighthouse, or in Paris, Gregory,” Tom says, voice raising, just so, in a very familiar harried pitch. “Something that you – one does to… avoid publicly kneeling in front of an unsuspecting bagel.”

Greg swallows hard, reaching up and rubbing at his brow and wincing as the paper bag neatly smacks him in the nose. “I think I, uh – I’ve seen those, too.”

Tom is quiet for a beat. “So… Just a better fucking idea, then?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Greg says, briefly hiccuping a laugh, as giddiness settles across his shoulders. It’s not a lot of give, not solidly, but it’s — It sounds like Tom has at least thought about it, too. “A lot better.”

The notion to bring it up occurs to Greg again later, somewhat intrusively, half asleep with his face pressed into the musky depths of Tom’s chest hair. He blindly reaches out and finds Tom’s hand, tracing down his fingertips and thinking about how it would feel to find something at the knuckle.

“This is really nice,” Greg mutters, flattening his cheek into Tom’s chest while bringing the hand closer to him. “But what if…?”

Tom hums and rubs his other hand through Greg’s hair.

“We maybe went a step further,” Greg manages, but only barely, as his voice has suddenly choked almost to nothing, barely escaping his throat in a whispered mumble. “Put it, um – on the books, you could say.”

“Hm?” Tom intones, as he gradually turns on his side, wrapping his arms around Greg with a deep mumbling breath. “Wh’ever you want.”

It isn’t technically a yea or a nay, but, like… the spirit of a yes is in it.

Greg manages to persuade Tom for a walk after lunch, wandering the storefronts close to the riverfront. He slows to look up at the name of a now familiar jewelry store, and pushes the door open, feeling heat brush his cheeks in anticipation.

“Oh, do we want a prezzie?” Tom says, following through the door with a pair of mocking tuts . “I can’t remember you earning one.”

Greg wanders slow down the length of the sparkling display, but doesn’t pause, bypassing watches and bracelets and chains, until he glances upon the rings. He stares down at them, studying in a way he hasn’t taken the time to before, shying away and especially recently, but he’s feeling better about it. He stands hovering, shaking his head when a salesperson threatens to come over, otherwise still until Tom wanders over at his shoulder with a curious noise that cuts off into a few beats of noticeable silence.

Tom clears his throat with a harsh cough, then hums a bit too high. “Gregory, are we hinting?”

Greg shrugs with a quick glance to the side, down at Tom, then back away before he can burst into a really untimely, nervous laugh. He scratches under an eye with his thumb, then down around under his mouth with turns of his fingers. “…Asking, I – I would interpret.”

“Oh, would you?” Tom says, voice tightening up cartoonish, bodily swaying in a swagger another spare centimeter closer, and altogether seeming like he’s going to make a scene… but, hopefully, in a good way. “This isn’t because you just saw them,” he asks, tilting his head with a careful, narrowed eye, “Is it?”

“I, uh – I soft pitched it?” Greg says, rolling his shoulders forward with an ease that he doesn’t feel, nor is particularly confident he actually pretends well. “A few nights ago. And you… You said… whatever I wanted. So now this is, um – the hard pitch.”

“Oh, I… I said…” Tom shakes his head, barking out a loud, pitching laugh, then covering his mouth with a closed fist and a marked wheeze. “That does sound like me.” He stands that way for seconds, and a quick glance sideways reveals that he is very visibly thinking, staring down hard at the rings. “…Was this mid-coital?”

“Post?” Greg admits, as he realizes he doesn’t feel particularly worried anymore that Tom might get nasty, or irked, about it. He’s more concerned about how Tom is really in some way vibrating in place, but everything that he could reach is pretty well behind a barrier.

He doesn’t take into account himself, though, and startles with a hard swallow when Tom abruptly reaches out and fists his lapels. He spreads his hands out, somewhat, as Tom then attempts to bury his face in Greg’s shirtcollar while at the same time he shakes him, breathing hard, but measured, though there’s also a weak sort of hysterical laughter behind it. It prompts Greg to reach up and slowly cradle the back of Tom’s head with a palm, setting his own temple against the top of it. It’s one of the rare times he can think of that Tom actually seems somewhat small.

A flush quickly fills Greg’s face though, when a kiss lands soft and fluttery at his throat.

“You’re such a devious fuck,” Tom enthuses, muffled, with another uneven laugh into Greg’s throat. He leans back, just as quickly grabbing Greg’s face, as he had his jacket, and smacks a rarer public kiss across his mouth, then offers upward a bright grin. “And you want to marry me?”

“Yeah,” Greg says, turning his nose to the inside of the leftmost of Tom’s palms. “A lot.”

Tom stares for a beat longer, thumbs rubbing softly in tandem at Greg’s cheeks. “Alright,” he says, letting go, even wincing like it pains him. “Alright. What kind of ring do you want?”

“Um, you know, it really should be for –”

“Oh, as if, you big crow,” Tom interrupts, reaching out and dismissively swiping, then slipping his hand under Greg’s jacket and settling it heavy across his lower back. “We both know we’re here to adorn you in precious stones. Do you want me to pick it, then?”

“Yes, actually,” Greg says, tucking his elbows in while pressing close. “Please.”

#tomgreg #for the last one imagine like the biggest sideeye from the salesperson

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