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#wow I am so lonely I would rather be used by a stranger right now than feel this way
somnomantic · 1 year
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Oh, the BPD urge of being so lonely that you want to spend your last dollar to go to a club, in hopes of someone wanting to fuck you
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kingexpl0sionmurder · 3 years
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Body Electric - Kaminari Denki - Smut
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Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder Pairing: Kaminari Denki/F!Reader Rating: 18+ (contains smut) Words: 5,491 Warnings: Sex work (Cam boy/girl), Quirkless AU, Aged-up Adult characters (someone is in grad school! wow!), mentions of masturbation (both male and female), mentions of casual ShinKami, established KiriBaku, Idk they are all just really sexually liberated and don’t care about watching each other cum. Is that voyeurism? I’m bad at tagging things. Title taken from a Lana Del Rey song. AN: Another BNHarem collab piece! The theme was sex work, and I have wanted to do a camboy Denki for a long time so here we go. This was really smutty in my head but Denki makes me soft and it turned out really cute in the end, I’m sorry? He’s such a dork I feel like any sexual encounter with him would just turn out like this in some way, idk.  Thanks to @unbreakablekiribaku​ and @sailorsero​ as usual for being supportive of me. Happy birthday to @lady-bakuhoe and @burnedbyshoto​ 🎂🎂 There is no one else I would rather be birthday triplets with!
Please check out the Collab Masterlist: HERE Look 👀 at My Masterlist: HERE Buy me a Kofi if you’re scared of clowns too: HERE
---
Sighing, you sat up on your elbows, squinting at the chat on the screen, willing your heart to stop pounding and your breath to even out. The donations were pouring in, the chat moving so fast you couldn’t even read it. “Alright, lovelies, I hope you enjoyed that. Be right back and we’ll chat a little bit, okay?”
Donations popped up, the chat slowing a little as the clients who only came to jerk off to you left, leaving those who considered themselves true fans. You stood and made your way to the bathroom to pee, rinsing your toy off in the sink and washing your hands. You went back to your room, pulling on a hoodie and settling in front of the screen again.
“Alright, I’m back! I have some time for a few questions and then I have to go for the night. Let me see what we got!” You scanned the chat, ignoring the normal inappropriate questions. Mindfucker:  Do you know who Chargebolt is? Cause I heard he watches your stream.
Your heart, which had finally slowed to a normal rhythm, picked up again. You most definitely knew who Chargebolt was. You gave him a good amount of money from your donations when you watched his cam shows yourself. “I do actually, he’s pretty popular on here, isn’t he?” You sat back a little, furrowing your brows. “How do you know he watches me?”
RedDaddy: He did a Q&A and mentioned your channel! Told everyone to check you out.
You recognized the names of the viewers and knew they were also regulars on Chargebolt’s streams as well, so you believed them. Chargebolt was gorgeous and funny, just your type. The knowledge that he was interested in you enough to watch you get off on camera was flattering. You hoped your blush wasn’t showing on your face. 
“I’m surprised he knows who I am!” You had missed the last Q&A he’d done, since it hadn’t been on his normal streaming day, and you’d been stuck at work late. Leaning forward again, you bit your lip, looking into the camera from under your lashes. “Can I tell you guys a secret? I watch him, too. Why do you think I never do shows on Thursdays? That’s Chargebolt day.” With a wink you sat back, trying to will the blush from your cheeks. Mindfucker: I knew it! I bet he’s watching right now. You smiled, shrugging. “I hope he enjoyed the show, then!” You tried to hold it together, suppressing the urge to burst into a fit of giggles at the thought, answering a few more silly questions from your regulars, before signing off for the night, promising to be back again the following week.
You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, leaning your head back and groaning. It was wild that the guy whose cam shows you watched on the regular, the one who had inspired you to start your own, who you thought of half the time when you were filming yourself getting off on camera for strangers, knew who you were and was one of your viewers. 
It brought you down a whole rabbit hole for a second, wondering if he got off on you getting off. Why else would he watch? Did he ever donate? You assumed he had a secondary account so you wouldn’t know it was him even if you tried to look at your past viewers, just like you had a secret account so you could watch him as well. 
Cracking your eyes open, you clicked to view the donation tallies for the evening. You’d made enough to pay the rent on your apartment for the month in just one night. Sometimes you wondered how you ever managed to survive before you started doing this. It was meant to be a temporary side job, but you’d been running this cam channel under the screen name Neko for over six months, and you had clawed your way out of debt in such a short time, it didn’t make sense for you to stop.
You viewed a few more visitor stats with interest, before logging off the computer and shutting the laptop. You had to get to sleep for your real job in the morning, so you figured it was time for bed, pushing thoughts of Chargebolt to the back of your mind for now.
It wasn’t until later when you were lying down to sleep, that you thought of him again. Your eyes closed as you ran through a scenario in your head, wondering if he would mention you on Thursday, and what would come of all this? You had noticed your viewer numbers had spiked that day, so it was definitely beneficial that you’d caught his eye. You just weren’t sure what would happen next.
--
Denki was grinning into the camera, wiping the cum off of his abs with the towel he kept beside him, his chest and cheeks flushed pink. He adjusted in his chair, tugging the toy out of his hole and chucking it to the side, pulling his boxers back up over his softening cock. “I hope it was as good for you as it was for me, babes.” 
He chuckled at the comments flooding the chat as he reached for his water and took a sip. 
Tapeman: As always, you never disappoint me, Chargebolt.
“Hey thanks, Tapeman! I appreciate you always coming to hang out...get it? Coming?”
Mindfucker: Ridiculous.
“Aw, you love me, Mindfucker.” He winked at the camera. “So, did you guys enjoy my Q&A the other day?”
The chat filled with praise, making him grin. He loved to talk to his fans, and sometimes they had some great questions for him. He knew a lot of people just watched him as a way to get off, but he liked to give a little piece of himself to them because he knew that most of the people who watched were probably lonely, and he wanted to help with that in some way. He kept things laid back, joking and laughing with his viewers before and after the show, taking requests and doing his best to remember some of the regulars. Some of the few who had been with him from the beginning he’d made into moderators to help with keeping things somewhat orderly in the chat. Some of them he actually knew in real life, like his roommate Hitoshi, who used the alias Mindfucker.
Mindfucker: So are we going to talk about Neko? Denki’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, you mean the stream the other day? It was…” He made the appropriate motion as he said it. “Chef’s kiss, immaculate. She’s so beautiful…” Trailing off, he let himself think back to the way your chest heaved and the face you made when you came. “I would do anything for her, man.”
RedDaddy: Dude, I agree! She’s also super sweet, like, the total package.
Sighing, he leaned his elbow on the desk, his cheek resting on his palm. “I am a simp, my guy.” He sat up, squinting at the chat. “She said she watches, right? Is she here right now?” He scanned the names of the viewers, frowning. “She probably has a second account. Well, if you’re here, Neko, you should hit me up. I read all of my DM’s okay?” He grinned, winking again. “Alright, I have to go feed the cats so I’m outie 5000, thanks for hanging out and I’ll see you guys next week!”
He said his goodbyes, ending the stream and sighing. He wiped off his toy with the towel and clicked through his stats for the day, smiling at some of the comments that came with the donations. Hitoshi came into his room a few minutes later, holding one of the cats, an orange tabby named Miso, in his arms. “I fed them, you don’t have to.”
Was it weird that his roommate watched him fuck himself on toys and jerk off on the internet on a weekly basis? Nope. Denki had forgone all sense of modesty when it came to sex a long time ago, and Hitoshi was the same. It helped that they fucked around on occasion, best friends who got lonely and lived together sometimes did that, he guessed. Or maybe they were weird. It was whatever, he didn’t like to think about it too much. 
“What would I do without you, Toshi?”
“Kill the cats, probably.” He deadpanned, leaning in the doorway. “Burn all the toast you try to make, buy the wrong peanut butter, eat Cheese-Itz for breakfast every day, forget to pay the cable bill.” He raised his eyebrows. “I can keep going.”
“Fuck off, I got the all-natural peanut butter once, it was an accident!” Denki threw his soiled towel into the laundry basket by the closet and picked up the toy he’d used, waving it around a bit. “Did you enjoy the stream?”
Hitoshi snorted, eyeing the dildo warily. “I didn’t really watch, I had my eye on the chat. I was looking for Neko.”
“Man, I can’t believe she’s a fan!” He waved the dildo some more, watching as it jiggled. “I would let her do unspeakable things to me.”
“Look out, your sub is showing, Denki.” Hitoshi teased. “But I agree, she’s pretty great. I wonder if she’ll ever do private shows.” Pausing to scritch Miso behind the ears, he continued. “I’m sure they’d be in high demand.”
Denki stood, pointing at Hitoshi with the dildo. He really needed to put it down somewhere and stop brandishing it around like a sword. “Don’t even, I’d spend all my money on that girl.” 
“I know you would.” He chuckled. “I did try to go through the usernames and see if I could find out who she could be, but I didn’t have any luck.”
“It’s okay! I’m leaving it up to fate now, man. If the universe wants us to know each other, we will.” He stuck his thumb towards the ensuite. “I’m going to wash my ass and then we can play Among Us if you want.”
Hitoshi, completely unphased as usual, nodded. “I’ll get a team together. Check the discord when you get out.”
Humming, Denki made his way to the bathroom, picking up his phone on the way. It buzzed as he closed the door, and he glanced down to see he had a message from his other moderator and friend, Eijirou, aka RedDaddy. Tossing the dildo in the sink, he looked down at the screen and opened the message.
Eiji: No luck on finding Neko on the stream, but she said she never misses a Thursday, so I bet she was there.
Denki: Thanks for keeping an eye out, man. I appreciate you. Among us in 30?
Eiji: Bet. I’ll ask Kats to play too.
--
Your next stream day had you feeling nervous. Chargebolt had talked directly at you on his last stream, asking you to slide into his DMs, and you had yet to take him up on it. You didn’t know what you were so scared of, Chargebolt was a nice guy. You chalked it up to the fear of the unknown. If you sent him a message, what would you even say? ‘Hey dude, nice cock?’ It was bound to be a disaster.
Pushing your nerves back down, you made sure you were ready for your stream, excited for the news you were about to drop on your viewers. You were needing a little extra cash due to some unfortunate car trouble, and you’d figured out a way to make up what you needed in record time.
“Hey everyone, welcome!” You smiled at the camera, waving your fingers. “Thanks for coming! I see a lot of familiar names here tonight. Hi Mindfucker, Dynamight, RedDaddy, Tapeman, LightningMcQueen!”
LightningMcQueen: Hey, beautiful! I’ve been looking forward to this all week.
Dynamight: Chill out, McQueen, you look desperate.
RedDaddy: Be nice, Dynamight. Hi, Neko!
Dynamight: Fuck off, Shittyhair.
Mindfucker: How’s your cat, Neko?
“Be good, Dynamight. You’re lucky I know you don’t mean that!” You giggled at the antics of your regulars, smiling at the question about your cat. “Ichigo is doing good, Mindfucker, thanks for asking! I’ll bring her on camera after the show if you want to say hi!”
Minfucker just sent a cat emoji and you laughed, shaking your head. “I’m beginning to think that you’re just here for Ichigo and not me.”
The chat went crazy with people denying it, telling you how much they loved watching you every week. You lit up, feeling more excited about your news.
“So I have something I want to discuss before we get started today. I’ve decided I want to try out doing some private shows, so I’m going to be offering up a few spots. I’m going to give some of my longest and most frequent supporters a shot first, and if all goes well, then I’ll open them up to the rest of you! I’ll be adding a signup link at the bottom of my page after tonight’s stream, so if you’re interested you can apply and I’ll pick a few of you and we’ll work out a schedule! How does that sound?”
Dynamight: McQueen already has his credit card ready I bet.
“Aw, you don’t want to play with me, Dynamight?” You teased, giving the camera your best pout.
Dynamight: You couldn’t handle me, Princess.
LightningMcQueen: Hush. You’re a bottom, Dyna.
Dynamight: Die you fucking extra.
LightningMcQueen: Love you too, blasty.
“I was going to let you pick the toy today, Dynamight, but if you can’t behave then I’m just going to have to let someone else have a turn.” You gave the camera a disapproving look, frowning. You’d picked up that these guys were friends, so you knew they were just messing with each other.
A donation popped up from Dynamight with a comment attached. 
Let McQueen choose this time, babe.
“It looks like Dynamight is going to let you choose, McQueen. Which one?” You pulled over the box you kept your toys in and showed it to the camera. “Pick a color.”
LightningMcQueen: Yellow
You pulled the yellow silicone out of the box and showed it to the chat, smirking. “I call this one Chargebolt because it’s the same color as his hair. Are you sure this is the one you want me to use?”
--
When your stream ended, Denki leaned back in his chair, taking a deep breath. The fact that he’d watched you fuck yourself with a dildo that you’d named after him was the hottest thing he could have imagined. He was jealous of that piece of bright yellow silicone more than he should be. He’d still enjoyed it, if the mess across his abs and chest were any indication. 
He cleaned himself up and pulled on a shirt, clicking on the link for the private show signup. It was pretty straightforward, listing the price and how long the show would be, and asking for his username and what he would be interested in doing or seeing and what day would work best.
Staring at the form for a moment, he contemplated his options. He could sign up with his LightningMcQueen account, and he might have a chance. He was the first one out of his friends to find your channel one night when he was bored and horny. Then he’d shown it to Hitoshi and then shared your info with Eijirou, Katsuki, and Hanta. He would be considered one of the longest and loyal viewers like you had said.
However, if you got a request from Chargebolt? What would you do? Would you ignore it? 
“Toshi!” He called out, knowing his roommate would hear him without him having to get up. “I’m having a crisis!”
The door opened, and the purple-haired man stood in the doorway. “I am not prepared to handle your bi panic right now, Denki.”
“Are you going to put in for a private show from Neko?” Denki pushed on, ignoring his friend’s exasperation. 
“I spoke that into existence last week, you know. You’re welcome.”
Flopping back in his chair, Denki closed his eyes. “Should I send in the request with this account or with the Chargebolt one?”
Hitoshi shrugged, watching their cat Sashimi wander into the room. “You’ve wanted to talk to her for ages, man. You could have messaged her forever ago and you wouldn’t be playing this game with her. Sign up with your actual account.”
“I mean, she must think I’m cute, right? Otherwise, she wouldn’t watch.” He sat up, logging out of his secondary account and into his main one. He had a few unread DM’s, so he clicked, his breath catching in his throat. “Dude, look.”
There was a message from you, short but sweet.
Hi, Chargebolt. I don’t know if you saw the stream today, but you should check it out if you haven’t. I left it up for you.”
“She wants you to see her use that dildo she named after you.” Hitoshi patted his shoulder, and then bent down to pick up Sashimi. “I signed up but I told her I just wanted to have a date with her cat. She probably won’t pick me.”
“She will, she loves cats.” Denki clicked on your page and scrolled down to the bottom where the signup was again, letting it populate his main account in the information, and writing ‘any day except Thursday’ in the section for the time that worked for him. “I’m going to get this girl to date me, just you watch.”
Snorting, his roommate closed the door behind him as he left. “I believe in you, Pikachu.”
Once his request was submitted, he went back to his DM’s and sent you a message back.
“I was there, Neko. I never miss a stream. I submitted for a private show, so I hope you’ll pick me. I’ve been one of your viewers since the beginning, you know.”
---
In your head, you tried to plan what you would say once you were face to face (via camera) with the one and only Chargebolt. Everything your brain seemed to come up with fell short. What did you say to this guy, who you’d been simping over for over 9 months, who lit up your screen every Thursday with terrible puns and panty-dropping smiles? You knew exactly what he looked like and sounded like when he came. It was a strange thing to think that you knew that but you’d never actually spoken to him before.
It made you feel a little better when you realized he knew just as much about you. That he watched you fuck yourself on a dildo you’d named after him, and then spent the rest of the stream showing off your fluffy white cat Ichigo. 
It was time to put on your big girl panties. You could do this. 
Chargebolt had been one of the few that you’d chosen to do these shows with. He was also the last one. You’d met with 4 others, the ones who were the most active in your chat, the ones you assumed were actually friends. 
Your first one was with Tapeman, who asked you to call him Sero. He was cute, with the widest, prettiest smile you’d ever seen. He made you laugh, and called you beautiful, and spoke to you in Spanish. You didn’t feel uncomfortable once with him, and the experience gave you hope that the rest would be just as nice.
Mindfucker was next, whose name was Shinsou and lowkey your favorite one. He didn’t want anything sexual at all, which surprised you. You sat with him and drank tea and you got to meet his two fur children, Miso and Sashimi, while he told you about his roommate. You let him admire Ichigo, and talked about music. He was sarcastic, but not in a mean way, and you were pretty sure he was going to be your new best friend.
RedDaddy and Dynamight had asked to do theirs together since they were dating. You wanted to question why they both watched your stream but RedDaddy, who was actually named Kirishima, answered it for you.
“We’re both bi, and we think you’re cute!”
“Yeah, plus McQueen has a thing for you so we like to be in the chat to help him out.” Dynamite, aka Bakugou, added in his gruff voice, folding his arms across his chest.
“Aw, that’s sweet!” You smiled at them. “He didn’t request a private show though, so I guess he doesn’t like me that much.”
Bakugou coughed and Kirishima grinned. “Maybe he was nervous! I’m sure you’ll meet him in one of these someday!”
“Enough about that dumbass.” Bakugou leaned forward, his hand on Kirishima’s knee. “Give us a show and we’ll give you one in return. Use that orange and green one for me, Princess.”
And give you a show they did. You got lost in how they looked at each other while they jerked each other off, and you were pretty sure they forgot you were even there at some point. When it was over, you suggested that they start their own channel.
Bakugou scoffed, but you could tell he was blushing a bit.
“I don’t know, Neko. I don’t think I could share him with anyone else. Except you, you’re the exception.” Kirishima grinned, winking at you.
But now it was Chargebolt’s turn. You made sure you had everything you needed, making sure Ichigo was out of the room, and then signed into your account. 
Chargebolt was online, so you made the private room and sent him the request. You felt like you were shaking, and you checked yourself in the camera to make sure you didn’t look like a wreck.
You barely had time to breathe before he entered the chat, his camera screen coming to life and showing you his smiling face. You melted a bit, biting your lip, gazing at how attractive he was. 
“Hey, Neko!” Chargebolt was as vibrant as ever, tucking his hair behind his ears, the black lightning bolt in his hair dark against the bright yellow of the rest of it.
“It’s nice to see you, Chargebolt.” You tried to relax, rolling your shoulders back. “It’s kind of weird knowing you can see me too.”
He laughed, leaning back in his chair. You tried not to stare at his arms in the tank top he was wearing. Chargebolt had a small frame, but his muscles were defined. You’d seen him plow through an entire bag of chips on stream once, without pausing to breathe, so you assumed he must be one of those people with amazing metabolism that you envied. “You can call me Denki if you want, kitten.”
You choked on air at the nickname, trying to compose yourself. “Kitten?”
“Well, Neko means cat, doesn’t it?” He raised an eyebrow. “I won’t call you that if you don’t like it.”
“No!” You practically shouted. “No, I mean, it’s fine. I like it.”
“Sweet.” He grinned. “Man, I’ve wanted to get you alone like this for so long, and now I’m just feeling really nervous.”
“You’re nervous?” You were surprised. The always cool but super dorky Chargebolt was nervous because of you? “So am I.”
Chargebolt- sorry, Denki, rested his elbow on the desk, propping his head in his hand. “Well, glad to know I’m not the only disaster here. I’ve been trying to get the courage to talk to you for months, and then finally Hitoshi got me to talk about you on stream a few weeks ago, and now here we are.”
“Who’s Hitoshi? One of your regulars?” Knowing that you weren’t the only one who was sweating bullets had you relaxing a bit. 
“Oh yeah, Mindfucker! You know him right? He did a thing with you the other day, didn’t he?”
Eyes wide, you stared at him. “Shinsou?”
“Yeah, that’s my best friend and my roommate. He said he showed you the cats.” He shrugged. “You picked all my friends for your private shows. Sero, Kiri, Bakugou, Shinsou.” He paused, smirking. “I forgot that you don’t know that I’m LightningMcQueen.”
“That’s you? I was wondering why they didn’t send me a request, but it all makes sense now.”
Denki shot you finger guns and winked. “Kachow!”
“Oh god, stop it.” You rolled your eyes.
He chuckled, grinning at you. “So, did Shinsou talk about me?”
You giggled, remembering back. “He told me a story about how his roommate mistook a fuzzball for a spider and spent the afternoon sitting on a table waiting for him to come home and kill it.”
“It looked like one of those freaky poisonous ones from where I was sitting. I was afraid to let it out of my sight in case it got away and then multiplied and killed me in my sleep or something.” He took a deep breath. “Spiders are terrifying.”
This man was amazing. “You are everything I always thought you’d be, you know that?”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” He sighed. “You have to have some kind of embarrassing story to tell me so I don’t feel like a fool. You’ve got to make it even.”
“One year my dad hired a clown to come to my birthday party. He walked in the front door and I jetted out the back door and hid in the garden until he left. Clowns are just as terrifying as spiders.”
Chargebolt laughed, and the sound made your stomach do a somersault. It was just as bright and happy as he was. “That is the cutest shit I’ve ever heard!”
“I’m glad my childhood trauma is amusing you.” You deadpanned, trying to keep the smile off your face.
“Aw, don’t be like that kitten! I’m glad we can bond over our irrational fears like this, you know?” He 
You shivered happily. “Okay, okay.” You cleared your throat. “So, you didn’t write anything down here for what you wanted out of our chat today.”
“Oh, okay, down to business then.” He sat up straight. “Well, I wanted to tell you myself instead of submitting it on the form.”
Intrigued, you raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t want to give me a chance to back out?”
Snorting, and shook his head. “Nah, I think you’ll like it, kitten.” He folded his hands behind his head. “I want you to tell me what to do. I’m at your mercy.”
Swallowing thickly, you blinked at him. That was...really hot. “You like being told what to do?”
“I would love nothing more for you to pull my hair and peg me within an inch of my life while calling me your little cock slut.” He stared at you with an eyebrow raised, looking pleased with himself when he saw your expression.
Your thighs clenched together involuntarily. “Fuck.”
“Yeah, right? I mean, I’m a switch, I’d do the same to you if you asked.  But we can save that for next time.” He smirked. “So, you down?”
Next time? This man was going to kill you. “Take off your shirt, Denki.”
“Fuck yes.” He groaned, reaching behind him and tugging the garment over his head. 
His chest and abs came into view, and you let your eyes linger on the barbells through his nipples. “Pants too.”
He pushed his chair away from his desk and shimmied out of his shorts, kicking them to the side. You gazed at him in his blue boxer briefs, eyes lingering on his thin waist, strong thighs, and the outline of his cock. He was a sight to behold, honestly.
You held the fangirling back, leaning forward to get a better look at him. “Do you have any toys, Denki?”
“Of course, Kitten.” He moved out of view for a moment, coming back with a box. 
“Let me see.” He tilted the box towards the camera, your eyes flitting over the different colors and shapes inside. “The pink one.” 
“Okay, hang on, let me-” He cut off, standing up and throwing the pink toy on the bed. He picked up the laptop and moved it, laying down beside it and angling the camera so you could see what he was doing.
“Did you stretch yourself, baby?” 
He made a noise that sounded like a whine in the back of his throat at the pet name, obviously pleased by it. “Yeah, of course I did.” He glanced at the screen. “You should, uh, take your shirt off too.”
“I thought you wanted me to tell you what to do, not the other way around.” Teasing him, you crossed your arms over your chest.
He pouted slightly. “I’ve been good so far though, right?”
“All you’ve done is take off two items of clothing and move to the bed. You’re gonna have to work harder than that!”
Huffing, he lifted his ass off the bed and tugged his underwear down his legs, kicking them off, his hand already moving to wrap around his already hard cock.
“Did I say you could touch yourself, Denki?” It was getting hard to keep up the stern act you were putting on, but you knew it was what he wanted. You wanted to watch him touch himself, watch the way his eyes fluttered closed when his thumb brushed over the leaking head of his cock, and the way he would bite his lip when he moved his wrist a certain way.
You could be patient though, so you continued.
“If I was there right now, what would you want me to do first?”
He stilled, blinking at you a few times. “I would want your mouth first, I think.”
Humming, you sat back, pulling your shirt over your head, letting him admire the lacey purple bra covering your chest. “You’d want my mouth on your cock? Trace my tongue along that vein along the underside and suck on the head a little?”
Denki groaned, closing his eyes, his grip visibly tightening around his shaft. He looked like he was trying not to get worked up too fast. You were amazed at how your words were affecting him, so you pressed on.
“I’d take you all the way down until I was choking on it, and I’d let you hold onto my hair and fuck my face. God, you don’t know how many times I've dreamed about doing that for you. What would you say to that?”
The blush spreading down his neck and chest made him look so pretty. “Ugh, fuck kitten, you’re killing me.” He swallowed hard, opening his eyes to look at you again. “I’d tell you how good you made me feel, but I wouldn’t let you finish me off that way.”
“Oh no? Tell me what else you’d do.” You took the opportunity to move to the bed yourself, pulling off your leggings and panties all at once. 
Eyes glued to you while you unclipped your bra and threw it across the room, he continued. “Fuck, um, I would...god, you’re beautiful.”
Flushing at the compliment, you looked down shyly, breaking character. “I’ve heard you say that before and I still don’t believe it.”
Denki scoffed. “If you need a daily reminder, I’d be happy to be the one to tell you, kitten.” You could hear the sincerity in his voice, and it made your heart do a little flip. “I might seem like a dumbass but I’m using this camboy money to pay off my student loans for my masters in English lit so I can quote you entire sonnets from Shakespeare without hesitation if that will help you believe me.”
Your eyebrows shot up, impressed. Realizing you’d ruined the moment, you sighed, covering your eyes with your hand. “I’m sorry, I’m crap at this. I really just want to watch you cum.”
Chuckling, you heard him shifting on the bed. “Okay, how about this? Forget the toys. Just close your eyes and listen to me.”
“Okay.”
“If you were here with me right now, just like that, I’d spend so much time exploring every inch of you with my tongue. I’d start with your lips, your jaw, your neck. Collarbones, shoulders, your chest, those cute nipples-”
“How are nipples cute?” You interrupted with a snort.
You could hear him trying not to laugh, his voice pitched a bit higher. “Shh, don’t ruin it.”
“I think you just did when you said ‘cute nipples’.” You’d never had this much fun with someone in a situation like this. “If I had a dick, my boner would have just died.”
Denki wheezed, and you opened your eyes to look over at him. He was gazing back at you, his eyes bright as he laughed into his palm. “God, I like you so much, kitten.”
Your grin softened, your heart pounding at his words. “Me too, Denki.” 
1K notes · View notes
shewillreadyou · 3 years
Text
Haven’t met you yet
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As always. I hope that you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.
A/N: This is a TRR AU. Liam is already married, but see’s Riley and wants his cake. If the readers are receptive this might turn into more than a mini series.
Disclaimers: Most characters are property of Pixelberry
Warnings: NS*FW (+18) don’t read this fic if you’re a minor; period.
Word Count: 1887
Prompts: @wackydrabbles prompt #88 “I meant every word.” will appear in BOLD
Pairings: Drake & Riley
Song inspiration: Haven’t met you yet -Michael Buble
Be Kind: Hit the heart button, leave a comment or reblog. It makes a writer so so happy. 
A replay of the Royal wedding of King Liam and Queen Carsyn of Cordonia was playing in the background as she packed her clothes in the small carryon. She giggled when they kissed. Although it was rumored that the king was into black women, something seemed off when he kissed his bride. She had watched this wedding a half dozen times and still couldn’t really put her finger on it. She was headed to New York to stand up in the wedding of one of her sorority sisters. After landing her dream job in Dallas, Riley couldn’t wait to meet her sorors in New York to celebrate. After all, Norah was about to marry the man of her dreams and Riley was truly happy for them. 
There was currently no man in Riley’s life and no prospects. Maybe she’d meet someone in Dallas or maybe she was destined for the life of a career woman. Maybe there would be no happily ever after for her. She turned out the lights in her new downtown Dallas apartment, and grabbed her carry on dragging it to the door as she headed to the airport. 
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She opened the door to see her latest amazon purchase on the door mat. She took a moment to retreat inside to open the box. She was hoping it was delivered before she had to head out. Her pink Bedroom Kandi toy was still packed away lost in the sea of boxes crammed into her guestroom. She knew that she would not survive this long weekend in NYC without some form of sexual entertainment. She was disappointed when she opened the box to find her new toy was smaller than the picture made it look. Her flight left in 2 hours and her uber was downstairs so she shoved the disappointing toy in the side of her bag and headed down.  
After the uneventful three hour flight, she finally landed at JFK. Mack was supposed to pick her up from the airport. She stood to the side as people herded to baggage claim to send a quick text. A group of men came from the opposite direction. One was this tall, very attractive Asian guy who looked alot like King Liam. He was with a few other men but there was one in particular who caught her eye. He was beautiful, he had dark hair and the most beautiful blue-grey eyes. The guy who bore resemblance to King Liam smiled and winked at her, while his brooding friend who definitely glanced at her, kept moving. She was snatched from her day dream when Mack texted to say she was outside. 
They checked into the Crown Plaza in Manhattan, freshened up and changed into their little black dresses before meeting the girls at a local rooftop lounge for appetizers and drinks before the bachelorette party. 
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The sounds of Dua Lipa’s “Don’t start now” played in the background and encouraged a slightly inebriated Lauren to shake her body on the empty dance floor. Still licking the wounds behind a very fresh break up she intended to use this weekend to drink her troubles away and vowed to nail a stranger. 
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The hostess seated a group of gentlemen at the table directly behind the ladies giving Riley, who never sat with her back to the door the best look at the group. It was them. The men from the airport. When they were settled, Riley’s eyes met with the Asian guy’s who was smiling and licking his lips. She rolled her eyes and turned to Kourtney. 
“So, how is Gabrielle, is she two now?” 
“Yes, she’s great. Busy, but great. That was real smooth. You have an admirer.”
“Ugh, I saw those guys in the airport when I landed. He smiled at me then too.”
“But now there are two of them looking at you like you’re a steak.”
Riley coyly glanced at the group again, this time noticing the dark haired man looking. She blushed and turned back to Kourtney right as the server approached with a whiskey sour, complete with a phone number written on the cocktail napkin. 
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“How did he know what you drink?”
“Girl, I have no idea. Should I drink this?”
“Sure, they wouldn’t have served it if it had been tampered with. But the real question is are you going to call him?” 
“Me? Noooo. What would I say?” 
“What do you have to lose?”
“Wait, you have never dated a white guy before have you?” 
“Well, no. Not that they aren’t attractive. I just never had one interested. Not all of us find our Prince Harry.” 
“You do now. Besides, Chris is no Prince Harry, but he does treat me like a queen. I have always wondered if there are people who would rather be alone than to date outside of their race. Chris is the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“I definitely would date outside of my race if it were the right person. He is gorgeous, I’m still not calling this guy. He’s going to think i’m desperate.”
“You are!”
“I am not!”
“When was the last time you got laid? Mack told me about your toy.”
“Remind me to kill her later. It’s been 8 months, 3 weeks and 5 days. But who’s counting?”
“Exactly,” Kourtney cackled, drawing the attention of the men at the next table. 
Maroon 5’s, “Moves like Jagger” started to play as they continued to chat.
“May I have this dance?”
Riley was disappointed to find the King Liam look alike.
“Thanks, but my feet are killing me.”
“That’s too bad,” he said as he flashed her a sexy smile.
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Just then she glanced across the rooftop to see him whisper something to his brooding friend. In an instant the guy with the beautiful eyes headed over and slipped the DJ a tip and whispered something in his ear before heading Riley’s way. 
“Kourt, shit! He’s coming over here what do I say?”
“Don’t. Let him do the talking.”
 He held out his hand and smiled at her and she was sure her panties were ruined.
“Hey, did I get your drink right?” he asked placing her hand in his.
“Actually, yeah you did. Impressive.”
Just then the DJ changed the song to Silk Sonic’s, “Leave the door open.”
The stranger pulled her to her feet.
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“Let’s dance.”
His scent was intoxicating, his arms where strong and she could get lost in his eyes. He held her with a familiarity that made her feel at home in his arms.
“So are you going to tell me your name?”
“Drake. And you are?”
“Riley.” 
“We don’t have to talk right now. Let’s just dance. Just use my number when you’re ready.”  
“Their bodies swayed slowly to the song before her friends pulled her away to the next leg of their night.”
Two weeks later
After a very long weekend in New York, Riley was back in Dallas. She had been there for almost a month and hadn’t met anyone at all. Well, there was Will from work. But she doesn’t date co-workers and she is pretty sure he is gay. In her freetime she goes to the gym, and eats at new restaurants  a few times a week, which leads her back to the gym. After a particularly long work day, circuit training and an hour on the treadmill Riley came home and poured herself a very large glass of wine. She filled the tub, lit some jar candles and grabbed her toy and the romance novel that she was currently reading.
She was soaking in bubbles up to her neck when her phone rang, it was Kourtney. Out of all her friends she probably checked on Riley the most. She dried her hands and pressed the speakerphone button.
Hey Kourt,
Hey Ri, what’s new?
Not a thing, work, the gym, dinner, wine repeat.
That’s sad. No human interaction?
Not really. I’ve hung out with Mack and Ben twice but I always feel like a third wheel. 
Remember when I told you to call the guy from the rooftop?
Yeah. 
I meant every word.
I will think about it. I gotta go. Early morning. Love you.
Whatever, I know when I hit a nerve. I love you too.
Three days later
Riley was as lonely in Dallas as they come. She thought about online dating but wanted something more organic. Kourtney’s words lingered in the back of her mind. Maybe she was right. Riley had nothing to lose by reaching out to the handsome stranger who sent her the drink in NYC. She decided to take the plunge.
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The next morning Riley sat on her balcony reading the paper and sipping amaretto flavored coffee when her phone rang.
Hey Mack! 
Hey, I am running into church and I know it’s short notice but Ben is out of town next weekend and my college roommate is getting married down in Waxahachie. Please tell me you don’t have plans and you’ll be my plus one.
I’ll have to check my planner. She laughed.
Who am I kidding? I don’t have plans. Free booze, food, and maybe a groomsmen to have a fling with. Count me in…
Yay! She squealed. I will pick you up Saturday morning and we can ride down to the ranch together.
Saturday
The doorbell rings and Riley grabs her clutch and the wedding card she got for the newlyweds before heading down to meet Mack. They catch up while they take the 30 minute drive out to the Walker Ranch where the ceremony is to be held. Mack talked about feeling like an after thought when it came to her boyfriend. Riley mentioned the need for human interaction, more specifically from a man and how the one man she met in New York lives in Europe. When they arrive Riley takes in the vast land and the beautiful event space. 
“Savannah’s family owns this ranch? Wow, it’s massive.”
“Yeah, I know at one time they were really struggling to keep things afloat. But it definitely looks like they are doing well for themselves now.”
“Right? I love when family businesses do well. It’s really a gorgeous day for an outside wedding. But we should probably take our seats. The ceremony will be starting soon.”
Mack led Riley to a couple seats on the bride's side. Before long a very serious looking groom and an officiant that Riley could only describe as a King Liam look-a-like stood under a wedding trellis decorated with blush colored blooms. The violinist started to play a beautiful arrangement as the attendants began to descend the aisle. 
“All rise and receive the bride.”
They guess all stood and turned to receive Savannah. She was a stunning bride. Then Riley laid eyes on those hypnotic blue-grey eyes. She instantly broke out into a sweat. She couldn’t ever mistake those eyes for someone else’s. He was as beautiful as the first tine she saw him. She swallowed hard and her mouth went dry. Her heart seemed to be pounding out of her chest, she was shaking when she gave Mack’s hand a firm squeeze. 
“What’s wrong Ri?”
Before she could answer, his eyes met hers, he bit his lip and her knees buckled. 
“Um Ri?”
“It’s Drake from the rooftop in New York..”
@txemrn​ @pixie88​ @secretaryunpaid​@khoicesbyk​ @blackkingliamstan​ @mom2000aggie​ @shannonwrote​ @hopelessromanticmonie​ @fanjessfic​ @rideordiechronicles​ @lucy-268​ @dcbbw​ @darley1101​ @maurine07​ @burnsoslow​ @sfb123​ @bbrandy2002​ @kingliam2019​ @schnitzelbutterfingers​ @lem-20​ @choicesficwriterscreations​​ @wackydrabbles​​
TRR: @twinkleallnight​  @bebepac​ @mainstreetreader​ @romereadingshop​ @romewritingshop​ @lem-20​ @texaskitten30​
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beyondthetower · 3 years
Text
Sacred & Common Ground (Annette x Felix)
Summary: Felix stumbles across a conversation he should never have heard, and his reaction surprises even him.
Characters/Pairing: Annette x Felix
Word Count: 1.8K
Warnings: Spoilers for Annette’s character.
A/N: Wow! What a surprise. I wrote more Netteflix fluff.
It had been a long day, and it was beginning to stretch into a long night. Felix wandered around the monastery grounds, still too jittery from his training to turn in for the night. His body was tired but his mind was awake. Hopefully a walk would help that. 
When the moon was high in the sky and most of Garreg Mach had gone to bed, Felix found himself outside of the cathedral overlooking the Goddess Tower. He leaned over the stone wall, staring at the tower and trying to remember that ridiculous legend people always told of the place. On their trip to the monastery at the beginning of the year, Felix’s father had blathered on about the legend. It had something to do with “lovers meeting” or some such nonsense. His father had mentioned in passing that he had met a girl there himself on the night of the ball. Whether that was his mother or not, Felix didn’t know. And he didn’t really care. 
He couldn’t concern himself with that kind of thing. He was and always would be a lone wolf. He didn’t need a girl by his side nor did he ever think about it.
Well...sometimes... 
Quickly, he shook the thought from his head. He was more tired than he thought. As he walked back toward the dorms, he heard the muffled sounds of conversation coming from inside the cathedral. 
“Why do you pretend not to recognize me?”
Felix recognized her voice at once. Annette always seemed to annoyingly sneak her way into his thoughts unwarranted. Without thinking, he peered past the nearby column into the cathedral. Lanterns flickered lowly, most already out for the evening, and a few others illuminating two figures as they stood at the far side of the room.
Annette was standing by the alter, behind a large, imposing figure whose head was bowed low in prayer. “Annette, I-”
Felix had seen the man before, and his voice only reinforced that. But he couldn’t quite place where he knew him from. He strained to try to catch a better glimpse of him, but he couldn’t make out anything other than the faint glint of armor.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” 
Annette’s voice cracked, and Felix realized that he had stumbled across an extremely private moment. He knew that he should leave, but a strange pull was keeping him tethered to that spot. In fact, he realized after a beat that he was actively restraining himself from marching over to her.
“Please stop treating me like a stranger, I can’t bear it.” 
There was a pain in Felix’s hand, and when he stretched his fingers out he realized he had been clenching his fist. Small, red, divots appeared on his palm where his fingernails had almost broken the skin. He tried to rub them away with his thumb and leaned against the wall when he heard the familiar sound of thick boots on the floor. 
“How long are you going to keep avoiding me like this?” Annette’s voice was starting to come undone; the strained composure she had been holding up until then was slipping and she was starting to sound like a girl holding a tantrum. She stomped her foot, and the man paused just close enough to a nearby lantern for Felix to get a better look at his face. 
He remembered now. Gilbert, the knight, had joined them in their most recent mission to the Kingdom; to stop Sylvain’s brother from doing any more damage and to take back House Guatier’s relic. He was a skilled knight, and had been pretty familiar with Dimitri. In fact, he seemed to know a lot about the Kingdom.
Felix tried to scan his memories for any hints that Annette had known him too. Judging by this conversation they weren’t newly acquainted. He remembered the day the Professor introduced Gilbert to the class. Annette had skipped in with Mercedes, cheery and energetic as usual. Professor made the necessary introductions, not bothering to go all the way around the room for names. He remembered catching a glimpse of Annette at one point (he annoyingly found his gaze wandering to her a lot more than it should) and realized now how different she had looked. Her face looked somber, like she had seen a ghost. 
“I have lost the right to face you or your mother,” Gilbert said now. 
Her mother? Felix thought to himself. 
“This has nothing to do with rights!”Annette said exasperatedly. “We're family, I'm your daughter.”
Daughter?
It all made sense: the color draining from her face as she stared at him that first day, the way she had been so shaky and distracted during that mission. She had seen a ghost. She had been searching for her father for however long, and now that she found him he was acting as if he didn’t even know her.
Felix had a sudden urge to punch a wall. He wasn’t sure why, exactly, but the idea that Annette’s own father had not only abandoned her but refused to acknowledge her even now infuriated him. The idea of anyone hurting her upset him, if he was being honest. But her own family? He may have hated his dad but at least he was always there. 
He shook himself back into the present moment, where Annette and Gilbert had continued with their conversation. Whatever Felix had missed had been final, because he could hear heavy footsteps bounding toward him before he had time to react. 
Gilbert emerged from the door, and did a double take before fully seeing Felix lingering there in the shadows. There was a long pause between the two of them, where Gilbert blinked in surprise and Felix bit back his urge to hit him. Gilbert furrowed his brow, as if he was about to scold him. But before he could say anything, he glanced back at Annette, as if he knew why Felix had been listening in (even if Felix himself hadn’t known). So, instead of saying anything, Gilbert merely turned back toward the bridge and disappeared behind the thick, iron gate. 
Inside the cathedral, the eerie quiet was only broken by the soft sound of sniffles coming from one of the pews. As he walked up to Annette, Felix realized that he should have made his footsteps more prominent, if only to announce himself in some way.
He cleared his throat. “Annette?” 
Annette whipped around, pulling her hands from her face and gasping in surprise. Her cheeks were red and blotchy, her eyes bloodshot and glassy with tears. 
“Felix!” she said quickly. She wiped at her cheeks as if that would hide the fact that she had been crying. “W..what are you doing here?”
“I was taking a walk when I heard you arguing with someone.” He realized this wasn’t an actual excuse, that he was really just admitting to eavesdropping, so he cleared his throat again and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I thought maybe you were...in trouble or something.” 
Annette studied him for a moment, sizing up his story. But rather than prod any further she just let out a frustrated sigh. “My stupid father,” she explained. Her small face distorted into an angry pinch as Felix took a seat beside her. And as much as it broke his heart to see it, he found it almost cute. “He left mother and I a few years ago, and I’ve been looking for him ever since. But now…”
Felix wasn’t sure what to say, so he kept quiet. 
“I just don’t understand how he could be so cruel. It’s nothing like the man I knew growing up. It’s like Duscar-” Annette stopped herself suddenly and sighed. 
It suddenly made sense: why Dimitri would stumble over Gilbert’s name, why Ingrid thought he looked so familiar, he must have been a Kingdom knight when it happened. When the King was killed. When his brother…
Felix shook the thought from his head, tried to refocus on Annette, who looked so much smaller and more fragile when she cried. He had a sudden urge to wrap his arms around her that he fought off out of sheer embarrassment. His face got hot at his own internal struggle, and he hoped she was too wrapped up in her story to notice. 
“I’m sorry,” Annette said then. 
“Why are you sorry?” he asked. 
“You lost your brother in Duscar, didn’t you?” 
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “So?”
She cocked an eyebrow at him, and he noticed her eyes were starting to get back to normal. “So here I am complaining about my own father, when you lost your brother for real.” 
Felix shrugged. “There doesn’t seem to be much difference from where I’m standing.”
Annette stared out at the doorway that Gilbert had disappeared through. “Yeah,” she sighed. “Maybe you’re right.” 
Off in the distance, a bell toll. It was getting late, and the chimes reminded Felix that he had better get to sleep if he wanted to get his morning training in before class the next day. He knew that he should bid her farewell, but something kept him glued to his seat in the somewhat uncomfortable silence. 
“Thanks, Felix.” Annette sniffed and offered him a weak smile. “You know, I’ve got to admit, you are surprisingly easy to talk to.” 
While it didn’t sound much like a compliment, even Felix knew that, for him, it was high praise. He was prickly and hard to read. He purposefully presented himself that way. “Yeah, well,” Felix tried to hide the smile tugging at his lips by looking down at his shoes. “Don’t get used to it.” 
“Of course. I won’t,” Annette promised. 
He could hear the smile in her voice, and when he looked back at her, her blue-green eyes were gleaming up at him. Heat rose in his cheeks, and he rubbed the back of his neck in a feeble attempt to hide it. “Come on,” he said gruffly. “You shouldn’t be out by yourself this late. You could get hurt.” 
Try as he might to make his words sound accusatory, even he could hear the compassion in his tone as he turned on his heel to storm out. He checked over his shoulder as he walked toward the bridge, and sure enough, Annette was following him with her eyes down and a sweet smile on her lips.
61 notes · View notes
seodami · 3 years
Text
Our story | LSM
Part 2
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This is our story. From the day we met till the day we part. Black on white, our most precious moments, never leaving us. I love your forever.
LSM
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Genre: Fluffffff
Warnings: none
Word count: 2271
Pairing: Idol!Lee Seokmin x fashion student reader
Note: Here is the second part and I have to say I really enjoyed writing this, imagining how easy and funny it must be to talk to DK :)) what would I do to talk to him once :’) Enjoy!
Previous | Next
Our story Masterlist | MASTERLIST
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You both were frozen in your tracks for a moment, you still panicking about what to say or do and him wondering why there was a stranger in his kitchen.
Seokmin hadn’t been feeling well since yesterday evening so since he was feeling even worse this morning, Seungcheol and his manager wanted him both to stay home for at least today until he felt better. He wasn’t exactly keen on staying in an empty apartment alone all day, especially when he wanted to be a part of their schedule. It often made him feel lonely and miss his members. It was stupid honestly, he thought. He saw them everyday and often needed his alone time at times, but he still felt so empty without anyone around.
He was still sleeping when he faintly heard the doorbell ring. Yet he thought it was just in his dream. But when he soon later slowly woke up due to noices from the kitchen, Seokmin wondered if their aunty might have come and would make him a warm soup for his sore throat.
So with still messy hair and puffy face, he made his way over to the kitchen with tiny steps, just to be greeted by a strange face of a girl he never saw.
“O-oh my god. I’m so sorry. I thought no one was home?” You stuttered out totally embarrassed to actually be caught. That was your doom day. Dokyeom found the rambling rather endearing, yet he cautiously made his way over to the kitchen aisle, you were working on.
It took you by huge surprise how handsome and cute this man could look at the same time. Were all idols this pretty?
“Uhm... hi... I don’t want to sound rude but I really... have no idea who you are.” The boy a few feet away from you came to an halt. His voice was a tad hoarse and he sounded a bit sick. He let out a shy chuckle, clearly feeling somewhat uncomfortable in this situation.
Little did you know, the little voice in his head was laughing at him how ridiculous and ugly he must’ve looked with his bare face right after bed. Seokmin had always had his insecurities about his body or face. He never seemed to fully like the way he looked. He would cringe so much looking back at his old childhood pictures, when he had a few pounds too much on him. It just never dawned him how his fans would call him handsome. Most of the times he would just smile and thank them but never really accepting their compliments, thinking it must be the good make up or the stylish hair. Yes, that must be it.
And now standing in front of a pretty woman, he felt it in every fibre of his body and it made him unbelievably uncomfortable.
“Oh... Right... I am Oh Jangmi’s daughter. Nice to meet you.” You quickly muttered, not daring to look him in his eyes for more than a second. You bowed as you typically did, seeing him bow as well.
“Oh aunties daughter? She told us a lot about you. Nice to finally meet you. I’m Dokyeom.” His uncomfortable face was immediately replaced by the brightest smile, you had ever seen. You swear, in that moment, your heart melted in an instant. You heard your heart beating loudly in your ears, unable to grasp this mans beauty. Never ever have you seen such a dazzling smile in person.
“Is aunty not coming today?” He asked curiously leaning against the other side of the aisle. He was way too close for your liking. And you were definitely still panicking. This man was more than gorgeous.
You shook your head, noticing his hoarse voice. “No unfortunately s-she broke her foot on the way here and went to the hospital. So she... asked me to step in for her. She will be coming tomorrow again though.” You completed your sentence while only taking short glances at the male in front of you, who was giving you 100% of his attention. You were more than flustered.
A worried expression replaced his smile. “Oh no... is she alright?” Your heart made a small jump.
You nodded with a small smile, fiddling with potato in your hand. He noticed and hummed. “Do you need help cooking? I mean... I’m not the best but I can chop vegetables without chopping my fingers off I guess.” He smiled at you once more. If he would keep smiling like that, you swear, you wouldn’t be able to see tomorrow.
You let out a small giggle, still denying his offer. “Ah no... it’s fine really. I’m just making jajangmyeon. And you sound like you’ve caught a cold so I won’t be bothering you with doing anything.”
You quickly placed the potato in your hand on the cutting board and started slicing it into small cubes.
“Yeah I actually did. It’s not really pleasant to be honest.” Dokyeom said before caughting in his elbow as on queue.
“Wait a second. I’m gonna make you a tea. I’m a pro in dealing with colds, trust me.” You insisted, already reaching for the water boiler to fill it up with fresh water.
“Thank you. You really don’t have to though.” He giggled coughing again.
“No I want to. I’m sure you will feel better after this tea. I made it every time my siblings were ill.” You smiled at him, feeling already a tad more comfortable with this man, you literally just met.
Seokmin took a seat in one of the high chairs on his side of the kitchen aisle while watching you chop the vegetables. He noticed how soft your hair looked like, falling gently onto your face. He took his phone out to check his messages. There were just a few from his manager about their usual schedule and some silly messages in their group chat. He softly giggled reading through all of them, wondering how he even got friends like this.
You couldn’t help stealing short glances here and there at the beautiful man, noticing how he swept his fluffy bed hair with one hand out of his face. Something about him was immensely attractive and you couldn’t pinpoint what exactly it was. But hell no, you were not going to develop a crush on a man you literally met one time. Nope. All idols would probably have this effect on you, right? They weren’t idols without a reason.
Soon enough you finished Dokyeoms tea with a last pinch of fresh mint leaves and handed it over to him with a smile. He thanked you, white teeth showing and crescent eyes forming. Melting, definitely melting.
“Wow... It’s very good.” He carefully slurped from the warm tea. You sent him a bright smile, deep down thanking your tea making skills you’ve even improved thanks to your job at the café. That was definitely a pro from working there.
“I sometimes work in a small café, so I had plenty of time to practice. I probably could make you every drink you want.” You laughed while taking out a frying pan to avoid his interested eyes following your every movement.
His laugh mused in with yours. “I always wanted to know someone, who could just magically let all the drinks I wanted appear in my kitchen. Thank god I stayed at home today.”
You both were pleasantly surprised how easy talking to each other was. There was a spark of fun in your conversation, which you both couldn’t get enough of. There weren’t many people you knew, If any, who you just clicked with so easily. It was definitely weird but you liked it.
“The food will still take a bit so you are free to make one more drink wish.” You chuckled, glancing over at Dokyeom leaning his head in the palm of his hand.
A genuine smile was displayed across his lips. “Mhh I have to think, this is a very important desicion, I don’t want to make a mistake.” You both snickered in unison. My god, how were you getting along so well with him?
“Alright, you still have exactly 28 minutes and a half to decide.”
“How generous, I will think about it.” His smile was even brighter now, it was impossible not to smile. There was just something about it that gave you an enormous serotonin boost and transformed you into one of these giggly anime Highschool girls. The bad thing was, you didn’t even remember acting that was after experiencing such a rush of being in his proximity. You liked it more than you could have imagined.
However, this was just the starting point of your wholesome conversation this day. It all just came so naturally, you nearly forgot to keep cooking. Seokmin on his side felt incredibly happy compared to his usual happy demeanor. He truly enjoyed your back and forth conversations and he felt greatly satisfied, seeing a bright smile or hearing you laugh because of his comments. It was at times like this when he remembered how much he missed talking to new people, especially when the two of you were obviously on the same wave length. He kept forgetting that he probably shouldn’t talk that much when he was sick but he just couldn’t stop, even if you mentioned it more than three times already. He enjoyed it that much.
You two talked about funny stories of your mom, ridiculous ones of the other members (you really wouldn’t have expected an idol group to be this funny) and also about your own interests, hobbies and families. You snorted when he told you how their trio Booseoksoon sang one of their songs at his sisters wedding in order to make the married couple kiss. The more you got to know each other, the more you forgot how time actually flied.
He even begged you to stay and eat with him when you finally finished cooking, which you hesitantly accepted after seeing his pleading puppy look. What did you get yourself into?
While eating, you told him excitedly about your new fashion projects, you were working on. He was more than hooked listening to every detail. He always loved it when people told him about their passion and he could clearly see that this was yours with how vivid your eyes were beaming and how big your smile grew. It secretly increased the warmth in his heart more and more.
It was the same look he had on his face as he told you about his fans, their next album preparations and the amazing concerts all around the world. You just loved listening to him, even though you both probably finished eating since over an hour already. Sitting so close to him while looking at his dark shining eyes made your brain just automatically foggy.
It only was when your friend and roommate Minji called to ask where you were for your groups project meeting, that you realised how long you actually let yourself swaying in Dokyeoms presence. You were already over half an hour late to your meeting.
You quickly told her you were on your way and hung up, while carrying the plates to the sink. Seokmins sad eyes followed you as he stood up to help you. “You have to go?” He asked immediately, now standing next to you, taking the plates out of your hands, while towering a good piece over you.
You nodded with a sad smile, suddenly feeling every effect he had on you even stronger.
“Yeah I’m sorry. I already stayed way too long. My group is going to kill me.” You tried joking. He chuckled, searching for your eyes.
Seokmin knew when he was interested in a person and it even was obvious for him that you sparked a deep interest inside of him after today. He just knew he wanted to see you again.
“I really enjoyed talking to you. It’s rare to have such a nice conversation. I literally forgot time.” His rich chocolate eyes met yours. “Yeah, I feel the same...” you chocked out, heart beating way too fast again. What was it with your heart today?
“Are you coming over again or...?” He asked almost timidly while fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He looked adorable. Absolutely adorable.
You sent him a shy smile, shrugging your shoulders. “Maybe... I am kind of busy this month because of work and university. But... I would love to talk to you again.” A sudden wave of confidence hit you and took even you by surprise.
A sigh of relief was heard from his side and you giggled. “Thank god. I really wanted to ask you for your phone number.”
God he really was adorable. Such a cutie.
With a grin, you searched for a piece of paper and a pen nearby and quickly scribbled your number onto it. You really had no worry about him being secretly a creep so why not.
“Here you go. Oh and I still didn’t make you your second free drink, so make sure to text me with your order.” There you both went into a giggling mess again.
“Will do. It’s all I’m thinking about.”
So after swiftly cleaning the plates together and saying goodbye and also telling him to get better soon, you made your way out of the building with such an energy, you had no idea where it came from. But you loved how you felt after spending time with Dokyeom. And you were definitely looking forward to your next meeting.
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writerwrites · 4 years
Text
A Cruel Tide
Pairing: Steve Rogers (nomad!Steve) x Reader
Summary: A lost hero thinks she needs saving, but this divorcée’s needs were different, fleeting, and then full of attachment. Can they overcome the burdens on their shoulders and keep their word?
Word Count: 5.9k
Warnings: Smut 18+, specifically unprotected sex, soft Dom Steve (if you squint), some mentions of a divorce and criminal father and hints of winter holiday cheer.
A/N: *THIS IS A ONE SHOT* This is the Week 1 prompt to the Optimistic Captain Donut Challenge created by @captainchrisbaby​ @captain-a-rogerss , @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho​ , and @donutloverxo ... The Week 1 Prompt was based off of the moodboard below and “What Could Be as Lonely as Love” by Amber Run
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“Please come back, Baby. It’s Christmas! Where are you going to go?” She heard her ex plead on the other end of the line as she stood soaking wet in the lobby of a cheap hotel. Even the weather had turned to shit on the first holiday since the divorce. “You didn’t even take your bag. What am I supposed to tell them when they come out of the kitchen with your favorite dessert?”
“The truth.” Her words were as cold as the sleet pelting the glass door by the empty concierge desk. A few taps on the phone screen and it was over, screen black. Silent. Merry Christmas, no more lies. Just as her hand went for the bell again a stranger cleared his throat. Hand snapping back to her side, her gaze caught the movement out of someone by the vending machines in her peripheral vision. It took a minute to place him, the grown out blonde hair seemed darker and his thick beard certainly changed the alter boy appearance that the world had made synonymous with his Captain America persona. Then it hit her like a ton of bricks: this was a wanted man. She could have pulled her phone back out, could’ve called for help or ignored him, but when her eyes met his, despite the long disheveled hair and thick beard, the softness to him was undeniable. The only thing she could muster was a simple, few hours too early, “Merry Christmas.”
“You just missed him, the manager. He left to get a good seat at midnight mass.” His blue eyes flitted to the window and back to you. It was like he was waiting for the woman to say something as he flipped a coin in his hand and tucked it back into one of his pockets. “You’ve got to be cold. No point in waiting around or paying for a room when I’ve got an extra bed.”
Even with his nod for the young woman to follow him she was reluctant, wondering why he had a second empty bed and why he wasn’t with someone for the holidays- even as a fugitive. She couldn’t remember all of their names, never really following all the ‘super terrorism’ headlines, but knew there was at least a half dozen of Stark’s former friends that had stood against him, were arrested, and went ‘missing’ from some prison facility she couldn’t recall the name of.  Despite her mind trying to dredge up whatever fleeting bit of news she’d heard, her feet were still following him through the dim hallway until they made it to his door. “What were you doing in the lobby if you knew he wasn’t there?”
“Vending machine. No room service tonight… I’ll get you some clothes and head back over. Do you want anything?” The grit in his voice was familiar, the sound of exhaustion, and her eyes moved over his frame as he spoke to the door handle and then the closet rather than looking at her. Where had he been while the world was looking for him? She mused as she watched him dig through a duffle bag and pulled out some extra clothes. When he turned to give them to her, the Avenger’s eyebrows knit together. The look of concern made her shoulders turn in self-consciously. “You’re shaking.”
In the subtle exchange of a flannel button up and worn in sweatpants her hands brushed over his, finding them rough with soft and slightly raised scars at his knuckles. “Sorry.” She looked for the bathroom door and stepped around him, pausing before reaching for the handle, talking to her heels. “I’m sorry. Uhmm, no thank you, I had dinner. I’m just cold, wet… Thank you for being so nice to me.” She couldn’t do it, couldn’t pull her gaze off the floor, and with nowhere to go she couldn’t run. An apologetic smile found her lips and he saw it but gave her some space, leaving the room to go back to the vending machines before she walked into the bathroom and changed.
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Steve stood at the vending machines, texting on his phone while he dropped money into the machine. His thoughts were on the phone call his superior hearing had overheard and the subsequent stammer in the young woman’s heartbeat. He knew the feeling of love lost too well, but to see it written on her face, to see even her dark skin pallor, it brought back a sorrow he’d thought he’d buried when Peggy died. By the time his ordered assortment of chips, cookies, and honeybuns had thunked to the bottom Natasha and Sam had joined him in the lobby. “I’m not sure she’s going to talk to me.” Steve started, only to be interrupted by Natasha.
“I told you that I should have gone in. You’re not as clever as you think you are, Rogers.” Nat smirked, leaning against the wall after catching a bag of chips he tossed at her. “We’re running out of time. The longer he’s out there…”
“It’s not that. She was on the phone when she came in and it wasn’t about her father. Something doesn’t add up. Why would she even make this trip?”
“Eavesdropping on phone calls? Step up your game. She’s been tapped for a week, we don’t need your ears, we need a conversation. You got this, brother. Do what you’ve got to do to get her to talk.” Sam gave him a smirk and clapped Natasha on the back. He heard Steve, but time was of the essence and with no one at the prison talking, their targets only connection to the outside world, that they knew of, was sitting in this hotel room and they needed answers. “If you can’t make it happen then send Nat a text and we can pretend she’s back for the other bed early.”
“Whatever it takes,” Nat crushed the empty bag in her palm and chucked it over the concierge desk and into a waste bin as Steve nodded and walked past his comrades, but the blonde grabbed his arm. It would have been an understatement to say she hadn’t taken the agreement to have Steve lead the interrogation felt a little personal, but she knew he could do it, perhaps just not as quickly as her. “Try and have a little fun while you’re at it, Cap.”
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The jacket dripped into the tub as it hung over the shower curtain rod. It was on sale, a thoughtless gift from her father three years ago, but the only coat she owned with lining since the separation led to a move to Miami. The knee length silver dress was new and now ruined, tag discarded in the trash and the heels next to it over the vent. As she looked in the mirror, water running for what seemed like an hour before it reached lukewarm, she twisted her dark locks so that they were out of her face and less likely to frizz. The waxy soap doing little to rid her of the full face of make up which hadn’t budged in the fray of arriving at the one hotel in the small town that she could afford. Despite freshening up, her body was still shaking. The flannel’s too long sleeve flapped past her fingertips and the sweats kept riding down to the widest point of her hips, making her look like a tired college kid.
With both of the beds made, she couldn’t be sure which one to take and settled for the one nearest the bathroom. As soon as she collapsed onto it she could smell the same scent as the shirt she now wore. The distinct sweet woody smell of patchouli, slightly cloaked in a hint of fabric softener. Her teeth chattered as the door opened, but she didn’t bother to move outside of hiding her face. She felt the weight of his body slumping onto the mattress at her side, the sound of plastic raining down on the sheets was what made her peak her head out. “Oh, wow! Was there a malfunction in the machine?”
His steely blue eyes looked at the young woman with worry but it seemed to melt away in a blink or two. “No, I couldn’t decide and I remembered you said you’d had dinner but not dessert, so Merry Christmas.” Both of their fingers moved toward the honeybun and he laughed a little, “A deal? One of us gets the honeybun, the other gets to pick the movie?”
Her chin quivered, as she tried to smile while she reflected on the options. “No deal. We split the honeybun and agree on a movie.”
Taking her lip in her teeth to stop the chatter and anxiety, her sad eyes looked up at him. “All right, you win.” He got up and passed her the remote, taking his time to go back to the closet where he turned up with a stack of clothes under his arm and socks in his hand. “Here, I forgot these. I’m just gonna hop in the shower, maybe be five minutes. No stealing my half or starting a movie without me.”
By the time he emerged, warm steam poured out of the bathroom with him. Steve thought she would have warmed up and calmed down, the sound of her heartbeat and shivering no longer ringing in his ears. Instead, he found all of the food in a little pyramid on the nightstand and a black and white movie waiting for them on the television. “You can have the whole honeybun if we can watch this…”
The glimmer in her eyes and swollen red bottom lip, she could tell he knew she’d been chewing on it the whole time. He slumped back onto the bed next to her, his damp hair dripping down into his beard. His brow furrowed thinking she’d leaned in when it was just his weight on the cheap mattress sliding her in. She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t pulled away immediately and then she felt the shiver of his warm, minty breath on her skin. A wave of relief washed over her when his features warmed. “No deal, we split it and we’ll watch your movie.”
His words had been whispered and he didn’t pull his blue eyes from her face. She felt naked being looked at so seriously and her eyes moved down the slope of his nose to the beard. Reaching up, her small hands brushed the droplets of water out of it, surprised to find it softer than she could remember a beard being. Her thoughts immediately went to the last beard she touched, the last hotel room, the last person she wanted to think about and her thighs clenched together with want while her eyes pressed together to hold back the emotions she had been running from for a year and had literally sprinted from an hour ago. “It’s The Lemon Drop Kid… it’s the Silver Bells movie.”
Steve leaned his face into her palm and offered up a simple grunt of acknowledgement before he opened his eyes again. She watched him in shock, that little act of intimacy making her aware of how lonely she was in this world. He seemed to notice, covering her hand in his. “Your hands are still cold.” The tension between them, the unblinking gaze, the whispered words, both of their hearts were racing. Steve caved, giving her a choice. “Want me to stay? It would probably be easier to share snacks?”
Before she could stop herself she was nodding and he was leaning over her, taking the honeybun off the nightstand before collapsing back on the pillows. Steve watched her lick her lips but assumed it was a natural reaction to the honeybun passing her nose. With her hands pulled to her chest, she swallowed when his solid frame hung in front of her for that fleeting second and when it was gone her hands covered her mouth to stop herself from taking in a deep breath of the intoxicating smell of him. Her eyes stayed glued to the television as she blew shaky breaths onto her fingertips. The monologue in her mind about all the little anxieties of life that led her to the desperate place where she was okay sharing a hotel room with a fugitive stranger over Christmas was louder than the man opening the plastic, chewing, starting the movie, and then talking to her about her half of the honeybun. Her dark eyes blinked at him when his face was in front of her again, her thick lashes fluttering in confusion. “Hmm?”
Steve set the snack down and took her hands in his, rubbing them gently as his callouses brushed against her soft skin and his beard tickled her palms when he brought them to her full lips. He only let one hand go with a nod to the food before he continued on his little mission. She nibbled at the sticky treat and watched him, holding it out every bite or two for him to steal a bite for himself until it was gone. Nothing made sense to her anymore, she wasn’t a flirt and certainly never fell into the category of being overtly trusting. He picked up on the nerves, the expression of her being trapped in her thoughts, it reminded him of Bucky and a pang of guilt to his closest friend being in an icebox in Wakanda fleetingly hit him. Neither of them needed to be alone with their thoughts on a holiday, he decided, so he tried to get to work and strike up a conversation, “Why’d you pick this movie? Not trying to make me feel good by picking an oldie, are you?”
“I used to watch it with my dad… Everyone has a go to Christmas movie, I guess. I just didn’t think I’d see it on television. When it comes to holiday movies, I guess most channels play Miracle on 34th Street if they’re doing a classic… most do the newer films. Do you have a favorite?” She watched him settle in next to her once more, reaching for his hands as he pulled away and, to her surprise, he took it back in his and draped the other arm over her shoulders.
She grabbed a pack of cookies with her free hand and Steve’s blue eyes watched her more than the movie. The woman no longer shook or shrunk in on herself with a little bit of reassurance and comfort, again, reminding him of Bucky. “Why aren’t you with him this Christmas? Why aren’t you with anyone?”
The questions felt immediately too intrusive, despite the casual tone in his voice and her body tensed against his briefly before she decided they were totally normal questions. “I haven’t heard from him in two years. I don’t really have people… I gave up most of my friends over a relationship that ended a year ago.” Her gaze fell to her hand in his, the ring finger glaringly naked as the Avenger’s thumb brushed over her knuckles. “You have a lot of scars too.”
He was processing every word and micro-expression when his gaze followed hers to his hands, initially wondering if she’d heard something about his story. “Part of the job. I take a lick just fine though.”
She nodded, noting the present tense to his response before deciding she hadn’t meant just the scars on his hand. Though she didn’t really know the depth of it, there was some mutual sentiment she couldn’t put her thumb on with him. “Doesn’t make it right. There’s enough pain in the world to not need to carry the memory of it on our skin until the end of time.” Her own were hidden under the long sleeves of his flannel and she’d almost forgotten how she swam in it despite her curvy frame. “Have you seen this one before?”
“No, I missed out. I’m sure I’ll love it. I’ve always been a fan of film.” He stole a cookie, mulling over how to keep the conversation on her father, “I’m sorry you haven’t talked to your father. Have you thought about calling him tonight? Tis the season, right?”
“It’s easier said than done.” She sighed. “I don’t have a number to reach him and he doesn’t have mine. I… I don’t even know if he’s alive.” The words came out in such a broken way, at first rushed and full of closed off frustration- not at Steve but the situation. Then came the familiar burn of grief and the internal conflict of trying to determine how much information was too much information to share on the subject. “Sorry…”
“Don’t be,” He quickly interrupted her apology, but he felt the damage had been done. Steve pulled her to his chest in a slow but gentle hug and again she didn’t fight it. She rested her head against his chest, listening to his strong pulse beneath the hard muscles and her legs tangled in his as his sweats slipped lower on her hips. “For what it’s worth, I can’t get a hold of the person I’d like to spend the holiday with, too. Missed a lot of Christmases.” He swallowed down the knot in his throat, “Maybe we can just focus on being present and what we can change.”
Resting her chin on his chest, she looked up at him, “If you want to talk about it, you can. I’m a better listener than a talker.” It was true, after a year of keeping a massive secret about an ended marriage full of them, she became a master of doing as she was told.
Steve moved his hands up her back, inadvertently sighing when she pressed herself closer. They were both touch starved and though he thought he should keep his guard up, that this was work, the way she looked at him made his new hard exterior feel like a facade. Looking at her through his long lashes, he felt torn for the first time between the job and physical needs, his thoughts trying to just find some balance. His palm brushed against the skin peaking out at her lower back, “I don’t really have much to say about him. My best friend, he’s getting some help and I can’t be with him while he’s doing it. I feel helpless about it and then a bit torn up about missing more time with him. It’s a complicated relationship and complicated circumstances.”
Reaching up, she scratched her fingers through his beard, “But does he know that you’d be there supporting him if you could?” Steve nodded and she offered up a small smile and a few more words, “Then that’s all that really matters. You’ll be there for him once you can. I may not know anything about you outside of this room or by any names except ‘Steve’ or ‘Captain America’, but I can tell the news read you wrong.”
Her dark eyes searched his as she chewed on her bottom lip. Though she’d never thought of herself as a good judge of character and had certainly found good in horrible people, the man’s little gestures and something in those blue eyes told her that she didn’t need to be afraid of him. His hands moved up her back, under the flannel shirt massaging the soft expanse of her supple curves. Just as slowly, she untangled her legs from his, the sweatpants slipping down her thick thighs with the traction. She left them there, climbing onto his lap with little regard to the fact that she was now in her silky knickers on a soldier’s lap, fingertips still pawing at his beard. Steve’s hands moved over her waist, her body as pliable as his wasn’t and he watched her throat and savored the hiccup in her pulse every time his hands brushed over a new part of her skin. “We should probably…”
With a nervous laugh she agreed, but her hips were still rocking against him and his mouth was still inching closer to hers. “…or we could ju-”
Steve wouldn’t be able to explain why he’d crossed this line later when Nat and Sam asked him about the lack of intel. A part of him didn’t care. Her full lips were soft against his and the way her wanton whimpers poured into his mouth when his tongue drew across them made his cock twitch. Every little sound and taste of her made his body react. Steve’s hands reached up her full frame, opening the buttons of his shirt and discarding it until the curvy young woman was on his lap in nothing but her bra and panties. His bright blue eyes were alight as they gleaned over her frame. His sex life wasn’t anything to write home about, chaste in comparison to Sam, Nat, and even Bucky; it also happened to revolve around work- agents in peak shape. He ached for her, a natural beauty with soft edges. Steve palmed up her back and she followed his fingers, helping him undo the clasp before helping the silky number join his shirt somewhere over the edge of the bed. Her eyes were on his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed at the dry knot there, as she continued rolling her hips against his. The woman’s were cheeks pink with embarrassment at her level of exposure in the warm light of the room, the tips of her fingers slowly plucking at his own clothes before Steve leaned in and pulled her mouth back to his. “You’re beautiful.”
The sweet words pouring from his lips just before they latched onto her breasts made her laugh and then gasp for air. His tongue drew circles around her nippled before he nipped at them and his hands caressed the soft flesh. As he marked her with three wine stained blemishes on her chest, she finished removing his shirt, only laughing again at the contrast of his toned body to her swelling curves. Her laughter filled the room as he smiled against her skin and she responded by reaching into his pants and stroking him until he was completely hard in her hand. She couldn’t help herself, panties soaked from every touch. She pulled them to the side, rubbing her wet slit against his length. Like animals they both pawed and groaned over the new friction. “Do you want me?” Her nervous whispered words brushed against his ear and Steve lifted her off his lap just enough to pull shimmy off his pants and line himself up to her entrance. Pulling his mouth to hers she kissed him softly, slowly lowering herself onto him despite his firm grip on her waist a clear bruising plea for more. “Be gentle with me.”
Steve groaned as he filled her slowly and completely, her warm wet cunt milking him as she gasped into the curve of his neck. His lips ghosted across every inch of her skin as he stretched her out, hardly moving or encouraging her to move, simply appreciating how good it felt to be inside her. When her breathing steadied, Steve palmed over her ass and pulled on the silky fabric of her panties like they were reins. Her back arched and she started to grind on his cock, her clit taut against the fabric and his pelvis only causing her to moan loader as she gripped the soldier’s broad shoulders. With a firm clap and squeeze to the round soft skin of her cheeks she picked up her pace, eyes closing with satisfaction as his thick cock filled her and stroked her walls again and again. “Good girl.” He groaned, his hands moving down her thick thighs, the veins in his arms prominent as he helped lift and drop her down on his length. Steve’s blue hues settled on the view of her dripping down his length, so wet for him. How long had it been since he gave in to just wanting someone? His thoughts were fleeting, drawn back to the reality of the stranger riding him like she hadn’t been satisfied in her entire life, now her fingers pulling his mouth to her, but he nibbled on her lip and pushed her back, his mouth drawn back to her full breasts.
With here hands clutching the bedsheets behind her, back arched as she rode his slow deep thrusts into her, she couldn’t help but tighten around him, watching him hold her was one thing… a simple delight she’d not had in a year. It was listening to him grunt and growl when her pussy throbbed around him because of the little delights. As he sucked on her breasts and he squeezed her ass holding her down on his thick cock with every thrust, she felt him hit her sweet spot, sending little heat waves through her core until she was begging. “I’m so close. I need you, Steve. Please, please make me cum.”
Steve obliged, easily laying her back on the bed and tangling his legs in hers as he lowered his weight onto her small frame. His hips rutted against her and he grunted against her mouth between greedy kisses while his hands, which had been pinning her to the bed spread her legs further apart, giving him complete access to push her over the edge. She bit her finger on one hand as the other pulled at his thighs, muffling her pleas for release, “Come on, sweetheart. Let me hear you. Let me hear that beautiful voice say my name.”
His thumb brushed over her clit in teasing flits, back and forth and her hand left her swollen lips, clutching his wrist as he continued to rub her sensitive bud through her release. “Steve! Please. I…” Her orgasm came hard, pouring her juices over his cock he kept warm and deep inside of her, savoring that tight pussy now clutching him like she’d never let go and all the subsequent little earthquakes from his ministrations on her clit. Her thighs shook and she laughed and purred and pleaded, but he gave it to her and when she was undone on the bed, his hard length still deep inside he laid down next to her, and rubbed her back. “Don’t stop.” She whispered after a tired soft kiss up his neck to the scruff of his beard at his jaw. Her leg slid over his hip and, again, he abided her request, his hand moving down that leg and back until he was sure she was ready. Her soft kisses confirmation as he began to rock into her once more.
This wasn’t just a fuck, it was slow and sensitive, pleading. He worshiped every inch of her as he felt her soak his cock two more times from the slow, deep grinding and nipple play. Each time he marked her skin with another hickey, groaning into her neck and shoulder and mouth about how sexy listening to her cum was, how good she felt around him, how perfect her soft curves were. The praise made her throb around him and he pulled her onto his chest, asking her where she wanted him to finish. Her pleading to stay inside her, the purrs of how much she loved being full of him set him off.  She rested her body gently against him and, cradled there, he claimed her in broken and hungry thrusts, his coarse hands holding her tightly to his frame as a final thrust to the hilt and he poured hot spurts of his seed into her. Her lips brushed across his salted skin before she let out a satisfied sigh. His blue eyes closed, a sleepy laugh passing his lips, “It doesn’t get better than this does it?”
Her tired eyes peaked open at him and she giggled as his hands flopped to their sides, only his finger tips tickling her tired thighs. “I’ve never had better.”
A peaked ‘hmm’ passed his lips as if to ask, is that so, but neither of them had energy to spare for conversation. Steve managed to tuck one arm under his head, his heavy eyes watching her slowly fall asleep, the unprofessionalism of his decision to sleep with her now sinking in as the charm of her melted into a warm, silent comfort. In bittersweet introspection he thought of how to rectify the interrogation that needed to happen. Knowing she wasn’t from this city and likely to go home under the circumstances, he settled on making plans to find her in a week. Nat and Sam wouldn’t be happy, but he’d find a way to keep them busy with other leads until he could talk to her again. Silver Bells echoed through the room and Steve fell asleep, just for a little while, basking in the comfort of being adored and held rather than objectified or idolized. For the first time, he dreamt of a dance with a partner that wasn’t Peggy.
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The familiar quiet buzz of her phone woke her up with a cat-like stretch and sigh, momentarily forgetting where she was. Clumsily smacking her hand around in the direction of the sound she quickly hit the wall of muscle at her side. “Good Christmas morning. You’re up early.” He smiled with a quiet laugh on his lips. “I plugged your phone in when mine stopped charging. I think all your messages are coming in.”
Her eyes sheepishly looked up from the pillow at him, processing the fact that the night hadn’t been a dream. “Merry Christmas morning, Sir. You’ve been up long?”
With a shrug, he let her process the fact that he was in dark tactical gear. He broke her thought process with the soft whisper of her name, waking her up with delightful surprise and curiosity as his expression looked hopeful. “What are you doing New Years Eve?”
She bit her lip and rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling with no desire to look at her phone or confess how dull. “Home alone, I guess.”
“Don’t have to be if you don’t want to.” Steve set his phone next to hers and slid down next to her, “All you have to do is ask.”
Her heart raced and she felt like she was still dreaming, but he reached out and brushed her dark hair from her eyes and met his gaze as Steve waited for her answer. “Find me in Miami and kiss me at midnight?”
With a satisfied hum, he closed the space between them. Steve hovered over her, craning his neck down for a quick peck when she shyly pressed her lips together. “That explains the coat.” He laughed, unpinning her so she could get out of bed, watching her as she slipped out of bed and picked up clothes from the floor as she tiptoed to the bathroom. Though she hadn’t gotten the door closed, she already saw her things neatly folded on the edge of the sink, a little travel kit set atop it all. As if he could see her smile, he hollered toward the door. “I hope you don’t mind that I spoke to the manager when they came in this morning about needing some basics.”
The rest of the morning went by too quickly for either of their liking. He didn’t join her in the shower, distracted by a disagreement in a group text with Nat, Sam, and the other nomads about trying to interrogate her again in a week. Meanwhile, she was glad for the privacy to do her hair and clean the night from her brown skin, the only reminders left were the tender aches and the plum bruises. Just thinking about it made her wet again and, despite the work related distraction in his hands his superior hearing made him hear her moan more than once, making his twitching cock semi-hard in his tac suit. He sat with her while she waited for her ride, he took her number, and when he kissed her goodbye, his flannel shirt tucked into her purse, both of them found a slice of happiness in a lonely holiday.
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The loft apartment felt vacuous compared to the cheap hotel room, but she managed to make the most of the long week. Decorating the place with a small tree draped in tinsel and silver bell ornaments, draping the window sills and counters in twinkling garland, and counting down the days to New Years Eve. Each day felt like a month, trying to reconnect with her father while juggling her meaningless job. Each night she pulled on his shirt and her hands slipped between her thighs until she fell asleep blissed out in the memory of their night together. There hadn’t been a single word from the nomadic Captain until a dozen roses waited for her on the doorstep of her apartment, a small card with silver bells detailing the corners that simply read: One more day, doll. - S.
Though Steve thought a week’s wait to see her again would have been painless compared to the lifetime he’d missed in ice or the subsequent years he’d spent mindlessly droning on until he joined the Avengers, but the task had been anything but speedy for an unexpected reason. Sharing the limited information he’d gathered, Nat and Sam took new perspectives on getting the answers they needed for their mission, all three of them tasked with finding people connected to the family. All the digging, shared intel, pointed to an intricately planned prison escape gone wrong. While Nat and Sam thought his worries for their target’s daughter were unfounded due to estrangement, Steve had every intention of keeping his word, simply too busy moving and looking for answers to engage in the formalities of modern flirtation. Every day was busy with work and every night, surrounded by pictures and papers, he’d wonder if she was drowning in thoughts of him too. The roses were his way of making it up to her, his confession, and every detail was carefully thought over.
As she sat in the twinkling holiday lights, the sun long since set. She clicked on the television to a channel showing the Ball Drop in New York, muting it to play her own playlist of holiday songs. To be fair, Steve hadn’t given her a time he’d show up. Cracking open the red wine, she danced alone in the shimmering silver dress that ghosted across her knees and hugged her hips, time slipping by mildly unnoticed with each sip and song. Just as she’d descended into the cushions the door to the apartment opened, startling her and causing her wine to spill across the cushions. It was the broad shoulders filling the doorway that made her hold in her scream. The familiar silhouette stood speechless and her mouth bobbed open and closed like a fish when they closed the space between the living room and front door. Her eyes moved to the television, expecting to see some sort of red tape Breaking News alert that pigs could now fly. Instead, her eyes fell on the time, bright white in the corner and reading seven minutes past midnight. She ran her tongue across her painted lips, closed her eyes, and laughed. Fate, she decided, had little regard for New Year promises.
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Taglist: @caplanbuckybarnes​
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Let it snow - chapter 4
As they were walking through the airport, there was only silence between the two. But, for the first time in a while, Romy didn't think it was awkward. With Emily, silence didn't seem to matter, it wasn't awkward anymore, it felt good. It felt okay. Good company makes that happen, Romy said to herself, reassuring her second thoughts. Emily was good company. And Romy felt at ease, even if she still didn't know at least 10 things about her. She was glad to be with her. To not be alone, and to not feel lonely.
Romy didn’t even have time to answer when another announcement made its way through the speakers in the overcrowded airport in Vancouver. 
"Passengers from the flight Air Canada 304, your attention please,  a specific carousel has been facilitated for you to claim and pick up your registered luggage. We are sorry for the inconveniences, but weather is just one of those things you can't control. Thank you for your understanding."
- We really should get going, I hate it when everyone just stands in front of you while you are waiting for your bags. Emily said, annoyed. 
Romy, what are you doing? She thought to herself. She found herself hesitating as they made their way out through all the other disappointed passengers. It seemed like everyone was just flying home for the holidays. And , suddenly, Romy felt as overwhelmed as before. The least thing she wanted was to be alone, because being alone most of the time only leads to feeling lonely, and that's the least thing she wanted.  Emily was right there, after all, offering company and, in a way or another, she just seemed like the perfect travel buddy. 
Romy didn't know why she was so reluctant to just say yes to everything Emily suggested. She was shy, of course, but this was also the first time she felt this intimidated by someone else. She was scared of what could happen. A lot can happen when you get to be so close to someone and for such a long time. Romy figured the snow storm wouldn't just disappear in a day, so of course they would be stuck in a hotel room for more than expected. Who on earth decides to be the roommate of someone they just met? Sleeping in the same room with a stranger? Showering in the same room with a stranger? She felt vulnerable. But she didn’t hate the idea either. She figured this would make a great story you tell when you are getting wasted with your friends, something like “I got to share a room with a stranger due to a snow storm, how cliché is that?” Didn’t that happen in movies and in movies only? Fanfics , too, but in real life? 
- What does your bag look like? Emily asked, forcing Romy to come back into reality and leave her thoughts for a minute. 
- Oh, uh… it’s black…
- You mean like literally all the bags out there?. We need something more specific, no?
- The wheels are pink?
- What now? That 's new ha ha. 
- My mum painted them for me, and it's turned out perfectly useful as you'll see. Romy said, playfully. “It just stands out , ok?”
- I bet it does… Emily said, giggling. 
- What does your bag look like then? Romy said, ready to make fun of hers too. 
- Oh, I just have this. Emily said, pointing at her back, where she carried her one and only Herschel backpack.
- You travel light , huh?
- Something like that ha ha. 
Romy figured that going for their luggage together meant agreeing to Emily’s suggestion of rooming together. And Emily just took that as a yes. 
As they waited for their luggage, Romy figured it would be a good time to get to know Emily a little better. She knew that the sooner she knew a little more about her, her overthinking would ease a little. No one wants to share a room with someone you don't even know 10 things about. 
- So… Listen, this may be silly to you, but I know nothing about you and we are about to share a room for god knows how many days, nights and you are still a stranger to me and …
- I thought we were past the strangers phase ha ha - Emily said, interrupting Romy
- Uh…
- Okay fine, let´s do something. Have you ever played this game called 20 questions? Emily, said, excited. 
- No?
- So we ask questions to each other, but the rule is that you can’t ask the same question twice. For instance, if you ask me what my favourite colour is, I won’t be able to ask you back the same question. 
- Are follow up questions allowed?
- Yes! Ready? I'll start.
- Of course you are, Romy said, resigned but with a smile on her face.
- What is your biggest fear?
- Wow, we are starting off strong… Uh.. I wouldn't know. I would say death, but I’m also very scared of heights. 
- Okay, good, now you ask me! Emily said. 
- Hmmmm, if you were granted three wishes, what would you wish for? Romy asked.
- That’s a good one! So first of all, I would ask for snow storms to stop existing! Hmmm, I would love to be a millionaire as well  and lastly I would love to have the ability to read minds! 
Romy didn't have time to say anything back when Emily was already asking the next question. 
- I’ll go easy on you this time ha ha. Favourite movie?
- I have two! Grave of the Fireflies and Avril et le monde truqué ! Romy said, with a smile on her face. 
- Oh la la, that french accent! I could listen to it all day ha ha. Your turn. 
- Favourite food?
- Just for the record, comfort food and favourite food are different things, so, my all time favourite food are tacos and pizza, but not just any tacos, authentic mexican tacos which are rare to come across if not in Mexico but well anyway, and not just any pizza, but Chicago style pizza. Now, my comfort food is definitely a bowl of cereal with a grilled cheese sandwich. Oh  and just  not any cereal , it has to be Honey cheerios cereal. Yep, there you go. 
She could talk. And Romy found it fascinating. Emily seemed to be one of those people who never run out of topics. One of those people who never let the conversation die. 
 - Tell me about your family. Romy said, thinking it was only fair to know. 
Hadn't it been for Romy’s clumsy incident, she wouldn't really have asked her that, she found it a little intrusive, even if Emily started off strong, but at this point Emily did not only get to see family pictures, she also knew her brother had died, so yeah,  she thought it was only fair to ask. Time to even the scales. 
- That is not a question, it’s an order ha ha. Emily said, nodding her head and looking away, in giggles. 
- Fine. Tell me about your family?
- Hahaha you’re smart, I’ll give you that. Well, there is not much to say really … She stopped abruptly. “Look,your bag! You are so right! It really does stand out ha ha”. 
Romy found it rather easy to get ahold of her bag. The carousel had just started to put on display all the luggage, and hers happened to be the very first one. She was too tired at this point, and carrying her 22kg bag plus her handbag plus her backpack didn't make things easier. 
- We should get going and head to the hotel, we don't want to now get stuck in an airport, huh? Emily said. 
- Let’s!
- Do you need help with any of that? Emily asked. You know what haha, just give me that, I’ll help. 
- Thanks. Romy said. So, we have a question pending, don't we?
- Do we? Questions do expire after a while, so you may want to ask another one. I lost my train of thought I am afraid. 
Emily said, smiling, but with a look in her eyes that one could describe as sad. 
Romy didn't want to push, so she decided to give in and just let it go. “Fine, maybe we can call it a day with this game. It's actually pretty exhausting. It's not that I carry with myself  a list of questions to ask to someone”
- Oh my god, you don't? First the pink wheels and now this? Who doesn't have an already prepared list of questions? Emily said, in an ironic friendly way, mocking Romy and giving her a pat on her back with her elbow. 
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windsource · 3 years
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ok i’m back with more... “i will love you until we run out of mornings. then i will love you in the dark” / “i would rather be a ghost, drifting by your side as a condemned soul, than enter heaven without you. because of your love, i will never be a lonely spirit” / “i am self destructive. it’s the way i’ve always been” “and why do you think that is?” “because it is easier to destroy something you love than it is to watch it leave” / “maybe tragedy is loving someone so much it’s impossible to do the right thing” / “i miss you. can i say that?” / “and the only time we’ve held hands is when i threw a punch and you caught it” / “i went to the riverbed to wait for you to show up. you didn’t show up. i kept waiting” / “make sure you kiss your knuckles before you punch me in the face” / “i will never leave him. it will be this, always, for as long as he will let me” / “and you realize the one person in the world who loves you isn’t the one you thought it would be” / “i cannot hide myself from you. i cannot hide my heart from my heart” / “love will be the thing that saves and destroys them both” / “i love you. i love you. i love you. but not loud enough” / “you do this, you do. you take the things you love and tear them apart” / “we’re so much joined in the flesh that strangers feel the pain if we stop touching” / “i loved you as icarus loved the sun — too close, too much” / “someone has to leave first. this is a very old story. there is no other version of this story” / “don’t make a noise, don’t leave the room until i come back from the dead for you. i will come back from the dead for you” / “am i foolish for wanting this? it will end in flames. it always does. maybe i like the way it feels to burn” / “faith. feel it in your mouth. roll it around your tongue. it feels new. you now have faith. so what did you do with your faith? you placed it on the man who just lost his” / “we make each other alive. does it matter if it hurts?” / “they’d never been lovers, of course, not in the physical sense. but they’d been lovers as most of us manage, loving through expressions and gestures and the palm set softly upon the bruise at the necessary moment. lovers by inclination rather than by lust. lovers, that is, by love” / “you’re my mortal flaw and i’m your fatal sin” / “i have been burned to smoke and ash for the ones i have loved. i have been devoured, slowly, then spat back out. and probability suggests you are likely to ruin me too. but here, have my heart. take it. i’d like you to” / “stay, will you? it’s all i’ve ever wanted”
WOW that was long i’m sorry 😳
HOW are these all so accurate... and don't get me started on the ones about death, because— i will lose it
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Illicio 15/?
Part 14
I suppose it was clever of you, to send this one specifically. I have never been too fond of his kind. Too... volatile, if you'll excuse the little joke.
But I'll move on. I'm a grown woman, and I know perfectly well when I've lost a battle. It isn't even that big of a tangle in the grand scheme of things, now that I think about it.
And see, that's exactly what I wanted to talk about, Jon. How would you say it?
Statement of Anabelle Cane, regarding inevitability.
XV
"So... where did you find her?" Tim asks, as he walks around a corner. It opens to a long corridor, with tasteful hardwood floors and sensible faded ochre walls. There's a little table by the wall anywhere between five and a hundred steps in, right below a mirror that's usually round, but sometimes is triangular or square. Right now it's eight-sided, and Tim looks into it to fix his hair- and his face. The latter melts a little if he's not paying attention, but is easy enough to mold back into shape.
"Roaming the tunnels. She was a bit lost. Everyone is, down there." Helen's voice echoes all around him, and his headache gets the slightest bit worse. There's no telling how long he's been here for, but at least in her corridors he can pretend the confusion is only a side effect of Helen around him.
"So you thought it would be a good idea to make her into dinner." There's a single cobweb stretched between the little table's legs, and Tim presses a finger to it like he's done to the others, watching it curl and shrivel as it chars to nothing. "Or were you actually trying to get her out and throw her at us?"
"Burn a couple more of those, and I might be able to tell you." Helen's voice is clearer now. Bitter. Tim nods grimly.
"I'm going to need you to let me out somewhere else."
"Better if you don't say the name, I think." Helen sighs. "Keep walking."
So Tim does. There's still plenty to be confused about. The Desolation rages inside him, feeding from the raw loss burning a hole through his chest
Sasha's dead.
No, he corrects himself. She's been dead for a while now, years. The thing Jon killed was just that; a monster, no matter how many times Tim called it Sasha's name. No matter how many times Tim found himself loving it.
The fire at his core burns a bit hotter.
He keeps trying to tell himself he was loving the memory of Sasha and not the beast, but is there really any memory left of her? Logically speaking -ugh, he sounds like Jon-, he knows there have to be. He knew Sasha -loved Sasha- long before the table came, but when he tries to conjure them, all he sees is the long-limbed thing, the ghost of its touch on Tim's skin sending shocks of nausea through his stomach.
"If you're going to puke, please wait until I let you out."
"Feeling vindictive, aren't we?" Tim composes a smirk even as he takes a deep breath to fend the nausea off, leaning heavily against the little table. His reflection on the half moon-shaped mirror looks decrepit with exhaustion.
"Aren't you?" Helen asks, and Tim's knuckles whiten around the table's edges.
There was a spiderweb on that table, and there's another on Jon's lighter.
"You have no idea."
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Calling the fog is easier now.
Tim hasn't been home in a while, and Gerry hasn't sought him out either after he lashed out at him. Which is... what he wanted, he supposes.
It's much better to work like this, now that even Peter has opted for leaving him alone. Without interruptions, without the uncomfortable feeling of being watched. Lately, he has started to suspect even the Eye's gaze slips off of him at times.
It makes him wonder if Jon can still See him. If he even tries anymore.
There's probably no answer to that question that could make him feel... something, not anymore. Martin shakes his head, hoping to dislodge the thought and go back to his work. There's things to do, including a new statement to record that Peter must've slipped in before he arrived. He's getting close to being done with this, at least.
Will there be anything left of him once he doesn't need to be lonely?
Will there be anyone left who cares?
All he can see when he tries to look into his future is the comforting, cool embrace of the fog. It's not a surprise, not really. Fear has ever been a constant in Martin's life.
A tape recorder clicks to life by his elbow, and Martin sighs. "Yes, alright. I'll just... Martin Blackwood, assistant to Peter Lukas, Head of the Magnus Institute. Recording statement... what is it? 0131305..."
The feeling is... odd, he decides after he goes through Judith O'Neill's statement barely giving the words a thought, as fast as he can without mangling it, because the sound of his own voice is grating to his ears.
"It's... I know I should feel guilty, you know?" he asks the tape recorder, resting his chin on his hand. "I mean, this is this person's worst moment, that she trusted us with, to preserve and protect. And- and I'm just trying to get it over with."
Click. Martin feels his lips curl into a small smile. Who knew he could still do that?
"Yes, I guess so. But it still doesn't feel like I'm doing enough. Not that it ever has, but still..." He sighs.
It doesn't really matter, does it? All Jon and Gerry need is the information, not his thoughts on it, not his- just the facts. That's what they want, and- and since he finished this quickly enough, he should be able to sneak down into the Archives and drop the tape at his old desk before Gerry can try to come get it.
He doesn't have to see the hurt on his face when he sends him away again.
The door to the office closes silently behind him as he steps into the corridor to start the way down to the Archives, and he's immediately assaulted with the pressing sensation of other people's existence. Martin doesn't quite Know about every person in the Institute, but he can feel their presence like one would feel the heat from standing too close to a fire; a warning to get away, before you end up burned. Luckily for everyone, life in the Institute seems to be contained at the upper levels, the building completely silent once he reaches the bottom floor.
The old break room calls to him like a siren at sea, but Martin ignores it. There's nothing for him there anymore, other than a brightly painted mug pushed to the back of the cupboard to be forgotten, like the painful memory of the times when there were no fears of monsters, and the biggest worry in Martin's mind was a fake resume.
This is why he hates coming down here, he thinks with a sigh. It's just... logically, he knows they were never going to stay that way, planning birthday parties and getting to know each other, the little Archive team. He knows they were doomed the moment they signed their transfer to their new department. But still... Better times, less complicated, and- there's a woman there.
More importantly, a woman he doesn't recognize. She's tall and dark skinned, with tightly curled hair pulled into a bun at the top of her head, her sharp, deep brown eyes examining what Martin recognizes with a muted sense of alarm as a scorch mark shaped like footsteps on the polished hardwood floor.
"Excuse me? You can't be here." Martin says after a deep breath. The tape recorder in his hand clicks on again; great, now Jon is going to hear him chasing away his meal. "Did you come to give a statement? I'm afraid we're not taking new ones at the moment."
There's a pang of nausea at the lie, but Martin ignores it. If he can keep one more person from tangling in with this-
"I gave it a while ago. Haven't been too afraid ever since." The woman shrugs after turning to face him. She's wearing a black tank top with a stylized ghost on it, that Martin would once have smiled at. "I'm only waiting for Melanie. You're Martin?"
He blinks. "You... know me?"
The woman's lips twitch. "Jon talked a lot about you while he was staying at my house."
Martin frowns in confusion, until it all clicks in his mind. The ghost, the statement, Melanie, Jon. The fact that he couldn't feel her at all before practically running into her.
"Huh. I- I didn't know Melanie-Georgie and Jon-Georgie were the same person." Martin feels the air around him cool a little more when he gives her a second, evaluating look. She's beautiful, and she looks confident and calm even in this place of terror. Jon... Jon really has a type, Martin thinks as his mind conjures the image of a pair of blue-green eyes glaring up at Peter in defiance.
"Small world and all that." Georgie shrugs. She frowns then, after she gives him a once-over of her own and apparently finds him lacking. Which is... not ideal, probably, but Martin can't bring himself to care. "Are you alright?"
"I am. Thank you." Martin looks away, because her eyes are nothing like Jon's asides from being a similar dark brown in color, but Martin finds himself thinking of them anyways. "Could I ask you to let Jon know I left this here? Or- or Gerry. He'll do too."
He can feel Georgie's eyes on him for another, unbearably long minute, before she speaks again. "Why don't you tell them yourself?"
"I'm- we're not really... talking. Not anymore." He's aware he doesn't owe her an explanation, but it's... why lie to a stranger, specially one that doesn't care?
"Ah." Georgie's gaze falls for a moment, before she lifts it back to Martin's face. "Could I ask why? Jon speaks very well of you. And from what Melanie tells me-"
"Actually, I'd rather you didn't." Martin cuts in. There's a pang of irritation at his stomach, and he feels the Lonely receding just the slightest bit. Not good, not- "With all due respect, it's none of your business, or Melanie's. Or anyone's, really."
Georgie's eyebrows climb up her forehead. "Wow. Okay. I'm sorry, I suppose. I just thought-"
"You don't know me." Martin says it more for himself than for her. She doesn't know him, and she'll forget him the moment he walks away. The so-called "concern" in her voice is just that, a misguided attempt motivated by-
"Well no, but Jon cares for you." She shrugs.
"Jon cares too much, that's the problem." Didn't he hear Tim complain about that years ago, angry and drunk against Jon's desk with Melanie slumped on his side in a similar state? Jon doesn't care until he does, and then you can't tell which one is worse.
Georgie's eyes are still digging into him, so intense Martin has to remind himself she has nothing to do with the Watcher.
"I think it usually ends worse for the ones that care for Jon, actually." And she arches an eyebrow in a gesture Martin has seen Jon made countless times. It's funny, how people pick up traits from the ones they love. He wonders which one of them had the gesture originally, and which one took it in and made it their own.
Has he picked up anything from Jon? The way he pushes his glasses up his nose, or holds his cup of tea? It's... that would be nice, he thinks. That even when he goes into the Lonely, when he's no longer capable of loving Jon -if he still is-, there will be a part of him that remains.
He also wonders if Jon has picked up anything from him, but the thought is cold and faded. Martin has always been on the sidelines, easy enough to forget once you get him out of your way. What would Jon even take?
"-tin?" Georgie's voice reaches him faintly, distorted.
"Maybe." There's a strange echo to his own words, and he can see the wisps of fog curling around him. "But it's good that people care for him anyways."
"What-"
"It's nice to know he won't be alone."
Georgie takes a step towards him, but stops short a second after, as her eyes glaze over for a beat. Her brow furrows in confusion, and she looks around the bullpen, her gaze sliding off of Martin.
"Okay, I'm ready, sorry I- Georgie?" Melanie asks as she comes into the room, frowning when Georgie continues to look around the office. "What's wrong?"
"I... nothing, I guess." Georgie's eyes are still confused. "I just- I could swear I was talking to someone."
Melanie gives the room a once-over of her own and Martin holds his breath, but she doesn't notice him either. Good.
"Huh." Melanie hums in thought for a moment, before her eyes turn mischievous and her lips curl into a grin. "Maybe it was a g-g-g-ghost? I know a pretty girl that does a podcast about that, you should tell her the story."
Georgie huffs a chuckle then, her encounter with Martin already forgotten. "I think I know the one. With the cute girlfriend, right?"
"That's her. Bad taste in food and men, amazing taste in women." Melanie hooks her arm through Georgie's, a pleased, slightly flushed smile on her face as she pulls Georgie towards the door. "Let's go?"
"I- hm. I think I was supposed to tell Jon something." Georgie hesitates a little at the threshold, and Martin's heart skips a bit.
"Ugh, just text him. You'll make his day."
"Don't be mean." Georgie smiles.
"I can live with you on his side or with Gerry on his side, please don't ask me to do both, I'm not strong enough."
Georgie laughs, the sound growing fainter as the door closes and they walk away, leaving Martin behind.
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Tim stumbles out the door, his head protesting as his body tries to adjust to the change in perspective, which is most definitely not aided by him immediately rolling down half a flight of stairs.
"Would it have killed you to find a something at floor level instead?" Tim grumbles, rubbing at his bruised shin.
"If you find one that's not sealed, feel free to let me know." Helen says dryly, pulling her door closed as Tim glares up at her. "Good luck, dear!"
Tim rolls his eyes, and when he's focused them on the door again it's back to being an old, dusty window through which he can just barely see the street below.
Fine. This is amazing.
A single thread of spider silk pulls at his elbow, and Tim huffs a dry, humorless cackle.
"Done with subtlety, aren't you?" The thread is trying to tug him upstairs, so Tim burns it off before starting in the opposite way.
He can feel the Web trying to wrap itself around him, to obscure his mind and concern him with matters that will take him out of here. Where is Martin? Is he alright? What if he was in Helen's corridors for so long that everyone's gone?
Tim chuckles at the thought as he comes to a stop before a door sealed shut with cobwebs.
Who else could he lose? Sasha's dead, and so is the thing that tricked him into loving it. Danny's gone, his death successfully -but so unsatisfactorily- avenged. Martin continues to slip through his fingers no matter how much he tries, and-
"Just spit it out." Tim freezes when he recognizes his voice, static-y and grainy with the whirr of a tape recorder as background.
"You're not planning on coming back." Jon's voice has the finality of a goodbye, and Tim realizes abruptly that he remembers this conversation. He didn't realize it was being recorded at the time, or he wouldn't sound nearly as put together.
Tim-on-tape laughs, so ugly, so angry that Tim-in-the-flesh flinches.
"That's rich. Do you care now? That's called guilt, Boss"
"Tim-"
"Don't. Stew on it, for all I care. You deserve it."
A sigh, long and tired, before a weak, broken voice.
"I'm so sorry, Tim..."
Tim lets out a sigh of his own, mouthing his next word.
"Good."
Steps crunching on gravel, as Tim walks back into the cheap motel and leaves Jon alone with his thoughts.
It's no wonder the Desolation chose him, all that burning anger boiling just under his skin, the taste of ash on his tongue, the finger pressed down on the trigger to call on destruction like a well-trained dog. So convinced that Jon, who he'd loved so much and who cast him aside without so much as an explanation, was the cause of all his anger. So eager to make him suffer just the same.
"Is that really all you got?!" he shouts out, and his breath comes out in puffs of steam that leave Tim's nostrils burning with the scent of guilt. "Mistress of manipulation, and all you have for me is 'you were angry and a douche'? Because guess what? I still am!"
His hand burns its imprint all the way down to the wood, as the cobwebs shrivel away.
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I suppose it was clever of you, to send this one specifically. I have never been too fond of his kind. Too... volatile, if you'll excuse the little joke.
But I'll move on. I'm a grown woman, and I know perfectly well when I've lost a battle. It isn't even that big of a tangle in the grand scheme of things, now that I think about it.
And see, that's exactly what I wanted to talk about, Jon. How would you say it?
Statement of Anabelle Cane, regarding inevitability.
Was that good? Did it do something for you?
See, I'm ever so good to you, dear. I know you're on a little 'diet', but one fresh statement can't be too much, can it? Just a single taste, you've been behaving so properly for your team...
But I've strayed from my point again. I do that sometimes, you know? It's a bit hard to focus on a single thing, when everything is so intricately connected! Try following a thread in the weave of a tapestry, see how long it takes you to lose track of it in the big, beautiful picture.
No, what I wanted to talk about, how did I put it? Inevitability?
You're familiar with that, aren't you, Jon? How running and running away only ever brings you back to where you're supposed to be.
I learned of it the first time I ran away from my family home. I had all these grandiose dreams, coming back artfully smeared in dirt, perhaps with a nasty-looking, but perfectly applied gash to my arm or leg, and I would never have to ask for anything again. I would be Anabelle, lost and returned, the greatest treasure my family could ask for.
The house already danced to the beat I drummed, but I wanted more. I wanted things to go my way before I even had to orchestrate them. I wanted things to land on my web, and strangle themselves to death trying to pull themselves out.
It was a good plan, for a nine years old.
I could tell you about the woman, I suppose. Young, and emaciated and lost, weaving herself into a tapestry she could not see, so desperate to feel something that she didn't notice when the syringes began overflowing with many-legged things that scurried and ran through her veins much more effective in soothing her pain and fear than the heroin ever was.
I could tell you how I ran. How I climbed back up my window before my older sister even noticed I was ever missing. How I shook that sleepless night, seeing crawling shadows everywhere, feeling the pinprick of their legs on my skin. I thought the woman was a demon that was sent to scare me into being a nice little girl, to correct me from the nasty schemes I orchestrated to get others in trouble.
You would know, wouldn't you, Jon? The incredible lengths to which a child's mind can go to try and rationalize an encounter like ours.
And it worked, I suppose. For years, I stopped manipulating, I stopped weaving. The urge was still there, and the ability of course. It was almost as though I could see the threads connecting every occurrence with the outcome I wanted, just waiting for me to pull on it the right way. But I didn't. I had seen my punishment, and I would be good, I told myself.
Didn't you do something similar, when you found my little book? You were adorable.
But you see, even though we both tried to run, to break free of the path we were meant to take, we both ended up exactly where we were needed. Don't hate me too much for pulling your strings, dear, just remember there's a bigger puppeteer out there.
And please, don't take this as some sort of grim reminder -everything is always grim with you, isn't it Jon?- that free will is a lie, and we are all just chess pieces moving across a board. That is not what I mean at all!
Free will is a beautiful thing, and so satisfying to have. You specifically have a will of iron, Jon, and that is a high compliment, coming from me. The twists and turns I've had to send you in just make sure you had what you needed to survive! And all just because you were too stubborn to take the path the Eye set for you.
But that is exactly what the beauty of an ineluctable plan is, just to come back to the original subject of my statement. Knowing that your every movement, your every choice is already factored in the grand scheme of things. I find it soothing, don't you? Knowing that no matter how far you stray from the path, you cannot truly ruin anything.
Look at your dear friend. An unwanted variable in my plan for sure, but apparently not to the Mother's one, since I ended up talking to you after all. Perhaps a little earlier or later than I originally should have, but things worked out in the end. They always do.
Perhaps all the players must, at some point, take a look around, and see if they're not standing on a checkered board themselves. I can think of some people specifically, but it wouldn't do to ruin the surprise.
Now, how do you close these things? Your charming little catchphrase… ah, of course.
Statement ends.
"I- you found this?" Jon's voice is a bit shaky as he finally looks up from the paper, and the tape recorder clicks to a stop on its own. "Were you looking for it?"
Tim shrugs. "Not really."
"But then- Tim, why were you at Hill-"
"It's none of your business, alright?" Tim rolls his eyes. "Maybe I just decided I really fucking hate spiders."
After listening to that, he definitely does.
Jon's arachnophobia has never been a secret, but he guesses it makes a lot more sense now. A lot of things do.
He doesn't like any of them.
"Tim-"
"I'm going to leave now."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Tim said you were full of spiderwebs." Jon's voice is calm, quiet.
Helen tilts her head. "Aren't we all?" She asks. It's not in her nature to give straight answers.
"I'm starting to think so." Jon gives a sigh.
It's a fun little tableau they make, each on one side of the desk, between them a tape recorder with a bit of tape still left, a sheet of paper next to it.
"This is how we met," Helen hums thoughtfully. There is no map on the paper, and the statement in the recorder is not hers -about her-, but it still feels painfully, exquisitely familiar. "Back when we were both human."
Jon lets out a little huff of air, like her words are somehow a surprise for him, who could Know it all. "Do you remember how that felt like?"
Helen smiles, feeling her lips curl in on themselves dozens of times. "Do you?"
"A little, at times." Jon lays a hand on the desk, and Helen sees the recorder practically click on and vibrate with the need to go to him. Funny little things. "More, lately. I... having everyone helps."
"That doesn't bode too well for Martin."
"I- it doesn't. But I'm- I wonder if you'd be this far gone, if I hadn't turned you away when you first came to me."
Helen tilts her head, when Jon's eyes fix on her. They don't have the lovely green glow they take when he uses his powers, and they look... sad.
It's not an emotion the Distortion knows how to deal with, because the Distortion shouldn't be dealing with feelings anyways. It's even more puzzling to have it aimed at her.
The part of her that is still Helen -is that all of her? Is that any of her?- feels a pang of grim satisfaction. "Is that what this is, then? Making amends?"
Jon shakes his head slowly, sadly. How can a man exude so much melancholy? Is that what happens, when you care so much?
"Not really. I- we were always going to change, I think. Our only choice is how we do it." He pushes the tape recorder towards her, with a tired smile. "I hear you collect them?"
"Only until it's time." Still, Helen cradles the recorder in her hands. Such a curious thing.
"Time for what?"
"I don't know." Helen shrugs at an angle that should not be quite possible for shoulder joints to give. "Doesn't it frustrate you, Jon?"
He gives a little, choked up laugh. "You'll have to be a bit more specific."
"All these rules about what should and shouldn't be done. We are power. Why should we be contained?"
Why should they?
Why should they strive to stay human, when that's the very thing that was ripped from them? Why-
"I think... Because I want to be contained." Jon gives his desk a little thoughtful frown, before looking up at her again. "If I'm going to be a monster, I'm going to be one in my own terms."
"How noble of you." Helen arches an eyebrow, and Jon's lips twitch into the ghost of a smile.
"Selfish, really. It's the only thing I have left."
"Didn't she say it wouldn't matter, in the end?" Helen lifts the tape recorder to tuck it in the pocket of her blazer. "The grand scheme of things, and all that?"
"It matters to me."
"So you'll spend the entire journey there being miserable, just for the sake of some moral high ground?"
Jon shakes his head, his lips moving around words he can't quite put together. It's almost a bad joke, the Archivist, tongue-tied.
"If I weren't miserable in this situation, I wouldn't be Jon." He says in the end. "I- maybe the Spider dropped me gift-wrapped at the Eye's front door, yes. But it can't take that from me. It can't take who I am."
"Bit boring, isn't it? Not changing at all, ever?"
"...Yes, I suppose you of all people might find it so."
"Can I still keep the tape?" she asks, clicking the stop button to make the funny little thing sleep again.
Jon sighs. "It's yours."
Helen smiles. "Just until it's time. Cheers, Jon, good luck on your moral crusade."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Corruption statements always leave behind a stale, sickly aftertaste. It's not too surprising really, but lately Jon has started to dislike them even more.
It's the way this entity tries to disguise itself as love, as the natural progression of devotion into indiscriminate consumption, parasitism, destruction.
Everything that love isn't supposed to be, everything that-
The Eye pulls urgently at his mind, and Jon is dragged out of his reverie by the sudden Knowledge of sharp blades and singing blood.
Jon sighs, before diving into his desk drawer to pull out his mobile.
"Yeah, I think, um-" the door to his office opens and closes behind him, and Jon's heart races as he tries to force the next words out. "I think you should probably get down h-"
The phone is yanked from his hand, and Jon vaguely registers the sound of the call clicking to an end, far more focused on the edge of the knife that comes to rest against his throat. Right over Daisy's scar, like it's one of those 'cut here' lines, and the thought is much funnier than it should be.
"Hello, lad." Trevor Herbert's breath is musty and bitter, and Jon sighs. This is fine, this is- all he needs is for one of them to get distracted. He broke Breekon before, and Not Sasha too. This is his home terrain, he can-
"Miss us?" Julia's long-nailed, almost clawed hand grips his shoulder tightly and forces him back on his chair. "We have some things to discuss, it looks like," she says, and though her voice is pleasant enough, Jon can hear the underlying growl under it.
"If you give us the right answers, maybe we won't have to check if you're still human enough to bleed." Trevor smirks. Jon looks up at the old man, but everything in him is telling him to keep quiet, to wait for an opening. Hunters are not to be taken lightly, much less as a pack.
"You've got something of ours." Julia stabs a knife of her own right through Barbara Mullen-Jones' statement. "Took it right from under our noses."
"After we saved you from that Stranger puppet and gave you all the information you needed. Very rude to steal our biggest resource." Trevor presses the blade a bit tighter to his neck, but Jon couldn't care less about it anymore.
How could he have been so stupid? He'd thought they were here for him, why come to the Archives if not to kill the Archivist? Something hot and dark and angry starts brewing in his stomach.
"Gerry wasn't yours," he snarls. "You had no right to-" the knife presses deeper, and Jon's mouth snaps shut more out of the Eye's self preservation sense than his own, his mind still reeling with the memory of the pained ghost that asked him for a smoke, just a shadow of the man he-
"You heard that, Julia?" Trevor cackles." 'Gerry'!"
"Seems like you've gotten pretty chummy." Julia leans over, her mouth curled in a sardonic smile. "Pull dear Gerry out every now and then for a tasty statement, don't you?"
Jon's eyes narrow as he tries to ignore the pang of guilt in his stomach. Of course he feeds from Gerry, but it's- he's not like them.
"Where is it?" Trevor snaps at his silence, giving him a shake. The knife breaks skin, not enough to bleed but enough so that Jon feels the sting.
"I set him free." And Gerry came back to him, he's Jon's now, and they are not taking him again.
"You what?" Julia grabs him by the shirt, pulling him up to his feet. Jon comes gladly, his chin held high and holding Julia's gaze. He can see the Hunt in her eyes, but Jon finds that he's not too intimidated, not after Daisy, and definitely not when Gerry's life is on the line.
"You wasted your time coming here." Jon says simply.
"Aren't you feeling ballsy today?" Julia gives him a hard shove, and Jon topples back on his chair. "But we didn't. We can at least get rid of another mouthy monster before we go. You want the honors, old man?"
Trevor shifts his grip on the handle of the knife, a wide, lupine grin spreading over his face. "Don't mind if I do." Jon's lips twitch into a smile, and the two hunters scowl.
"Get away from him." Daisy snarls from the open door to Jon's office, and Trevor and Julia snap around to face her.
"Who- ah. Got yourself a guard dog, didn't you?" Trevor laughs. "Smart bastard."
"More of a lapdog. She's scrawny, isn't she?" Julia goes for a mocking, dismissive tone, but Jon sees the stiffness in her limbs, and the nervous twitch of a muscle on her jaw.
Jon looks at Daisy, and he realizes for the first time just how sickly she looks. The lean frame that wrapped around him in the Buried now appears emaciated, and though Jon can See the boiling presence with too many teeth trying to burst out of her skin, there's no denying what abstaining from the Hunt has done to her.
"Malnourished, more like. Haven't tasted blood in a while, have you?" Trevor asks. "This one will die nicely; you could come with your kind instead."
"Or I could hunt you instead." Daisy takes a step forward, and Jon Sees the hunter boiling even closer to the surface.
"Don't." Julia say simply, when Daisy makes to take another step. Her hand digs into Jon's hair, pulling back to expose his neck. "Or I'll kill your library rat."
"You can try. You better hope you're faster than me, though." Daisy's voice devolves into a low growl, and Julia responds in kind. Trevor says nothing, merely watching the two women face off.
"Do you really think you can take us both?" She asks, tightening her grip in Jon's hair. "You're weak."
"Are you willing to bet your daddy's life on it?" Daisy bares her teeth.
"I'm not her father," Trevor says sullenly, and Jon snorts.
"Are you sure?" Jon asks, and Julia yanks roughly on his head.
"Shut up, I'll-"
"Let's go." Trevor interrupts. Jon gives him a quick glance, an old wolf that has learned to pick his battles.
"Old man-"
"There's no rush. Plenty of monsters to go around, too." Trevor gives Daisy a grin that she responds to with another growl. "Good luck guarding them all."
Julia gives another snarl, letting go of Jon's hair with a harsh shove that has Daisy flinching forward, before she and Trevor make for the door. Daisy stands there like a statue, and Jon feels the tension in the air rising with every passing second, until Trevor and Julia seem to decide to just go around her.
Their stomping footsteps grow fainter and fainter in the distance, Daisy crouches to the floor, her entire frame shaking.
Jon shoots from his chair. "Daisy? Are you-"
"Don't touch me," Daisy snarls, startling Jon. He pulls back the hand he was about to lay on her shoulder.
"Daisy. Listen to me." Jon kneels before her. "Just-"
"They're not gone yet. They're- I could find them. I could take them down." Daisy's shoulders shake even harder, and Jon forces himself to not flinch back.
"The- remember what you said, Daisy. Don't listen to the blood..."
"...Listen to the quiet," Daisy responds after what feels like an eternity. Jon carefully lays his hand on her arm, right above the spot where her nails are digging into her skin. She leans into it, and Jon wraps his other arm around her.
"It's- you're wasting away." Jon squeezes her shoulders, muttering into her hair. "You need to-"
"I'm not going back to that." Very slowly, one of Daisy's arms comes to return the hug.
"Daisy-"
"I hurt people, Jon. You know I did. I almost killed you-"
Jon squeezes harder, as the Eye drops flash after flash into his mind. The last moment of all the people -all beings- whose last view was the Hunt-distorted face of Daisy Tonner. "That was not you. That was the Hunt."
"We're the same."
"No, you're not!" Jon snaps. "You're- it's different, Daisy. You are different. What you were before-"
"I was a monster." Daisy's voice holds a special sort of fragility, and Jon tightens his grip as much as he can.
"There are worse things to be."
They stay there for what feels like hours, until both their breathings slow down, until Daisy's shoulders stop shaking with the urge to chase, and her nails are no longer digging into Jon's shoulder.
"So... did something happen here, or is this just something you two do for fun?" Tim's voice comes from the still open door, and Daisy whips up so abruptly that Jon is just thrown back in a tangle of limbs. "Whoa, tense."
"Tim-" Jon clears his throat as he climbs to his feet. "This is not a good time."
"When is it anymore?" Tim arches an eyebrow. "So?"
"It's noth-" Jon stops himself, sighing at Tim's unimpressed, guarded look. He chooses to trust. It doesn't matter that Tim doesn't trust him back, he- there's a reason for that, and Jon has to live with it. Maybe forever, now. "The hunters came by. Daisy scared them off."
"Top dog, I like it." Tim smirks at Daisy's answering scoff, before turning to face Jon again. "Did they come for you?"
"No, they-" Jon freezes, Trevor's last sardonic remark ringing in his head like a bell.
They're gone. They're gone, and they- Daisy was able to track him down to Michael Crew's house before she even knew the Hunt was in her. Trevor and Julia are both experienced hunters, and they came here for-
Jon shoots out the door, shoving his way past Tim and ignoring Daisy's concerned call, and hers and Tim's footsteps behind him as he rushes up the stairs and out of the institute.
He knows the way to follow like a bird flying South for Winter, a thread of steel pulling at his very core as buildings and street signs rush past the edge of his vision. He doesn't know how long he's ran for, his lungs burn and his legs are tired, -Jon has never been an athlete- but he's getting closer and-
Jon turns a corner and slams against something solid and soft and warm, bouncing back with a huff before his mind registers the concerned blue-green eyes looking down at him, and the shouting in his head comes to a halt.
"You're alright," are the first words Jon can form coherently.
"I- am?" Gerry arches an eyebrow, and Jon laughs with relief before throwing his arms around him. "Jon?" Gerry asks, an arm coming to rest over his shoulders, a hand behind his head.
"Huh, you were right. I owe you a drink I guess." Melanie says, her voice both dry and unimpressed, and Jon flinches back from Gerry's embrace like he's been burned. She rolls her eyes. "What are you doing here?"
Of course they were together, they're hunting, how could he have forgotten?
"I- the- at the Institute-" Jon sputters. Melanie's not with the Slaughter anymore, but she wouldn't have let Gerry face the hunters alone. His face starts heating up as the uselessness of his mad dash through the city rains down on him.
"Jon, what happened?" Gerry asks, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Is anyone- shit!" Gerry yanks him and Melanie out of the way, throwing the three of them against the wall just as Tim and Daisy turn the corner at full speed.
"We're here!" Melanie calls out calmly, and the two of them skid a few feet before turning back to face them.
"What the fuck, Jon?!" Tim exclaims, steam shooting from his lips as he pants. Daisy eyes him in a way that makes it fairly clear she's thinking something along the same lines, and Jon wishes for nothing more than the earth to open up and swallow him whole. Again.
"Uh- yes, I can-"
"Explain why you made us run all the way to Chelsea?!" Tim shouts again.
"Stop yelling at him!" Daisy snarls. She looks considerably better than she did at the Institute, and Jon wonders if chasing after him did something for her. "Jon?"
Jon darts a look around, trying to gauge the general mood. Tim is, of course, furious. Both Gerry and Daisy are giving him mixed looks of worry and confusion, and Melanie seems to be enjoying his predicament.
"I- they were looking for him," Jon mutters, growing more and more embarrassed as Daisy and Tim start to connect the dots.
Daisy sighs. "You though of calling me on the phone, but not him?"
Oh. That's- Gerry does have a phone that he usually has with him.
"I... wasn't really thinking."
"You're kidding me." Tim groans, and immediately turns to the street to start hailing a cab down. "You're paying for my ride back, you asshole."
"Uh... can I ask what this is about?" Gerry leans down to whisper in his ear. Jon exhales, the relief at finding Gerry alive and well still swelling in his chest.
"At home. Please?"
Gerry's brow furrows, but he eventually nods. "At home, then." And he presses a kiss to Jon's temple.
Jon, who is most definitely not used to public displays of affection, freezes on his spot. His face burns even more when he hears Melanie groan as well, before she begins to walk away.
"Tim, can I ride with you? I don't want to stay any more."
"Be my guest. Maybe we can convince the driver to charge him by the passenger. Daisy, you coming?"
Jon sighs and steps away from Gerry, pulling his wallet out when a cab rolls to a stop before Melanie and Tim. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The idea of four walls and a door as a sanctuary is laughable in the world they move in, but home is home, and it's more about a feeling than it is about a space.
"Please don't go after them." Jon's voice is almost too quiet in the thick darkness of the room, but Gerry can taste the desperate intensity in the words just as clearly as if they'd been pressed to his lips.
"Why would I?" he asks, like the thought wasn't the first thing on his mind as soon as Jon ended his tale. It's not like he can pay them back for what they did to him, keeping him from his rest just to use him, but fuck it would be satisfying.
"Gerry."
It's the emotions poured in it rather than the name, what makes Gerry feel like the breath has been punched out of him.
It's heavy with a sort of devotion Gerry's never been on the receiving end of, but that he's tasted in Jon's words before, sweetening Martin's name like a breathless prayer.
It's new.
It's terrifying.
It's intoxicating.
"Say my name again."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Won't you look at that." The voice that reaches Gerry's ears when he climbs the last step out of the Archives makes Gerry freeze on his spot.
He's heard it a thousand times before, reading his last, most intimate moments like they were a particularly boring instruction manual, tearing him from the painful, burning dormancy of the book for another round of questioning.
"That sneaky bastard." Julia shakes her head with a disbelieving cackle. "Dear Gerard, long time no see. Sorry, it's 'Gerry' now, isn't it?" She was always the one asking the questions, impatient and snappy whenever Gerry took too long to answer.
Gerry snorts, his mouth twitching into a smile. These two are opportunistic hunters if he's ever seen any, a pair of hyenas looking for lonely prey.
"This is very convenient, you know?" Gerry cracks his neck. He's never killed hunters before; Gertrude always thought they were better left alone, since they usually went after other avatars. It's just fitting that Gerry's always been good at learning on the fly. "I promised Jon I wouldn't go looking for you. Didn't say anything about what would happen if you found me."
"Oh, you promised him? How sweet." Julia smirks as she moves, her eyes glued to him as she flanks him. "How did he get you like this, huh? You were much more useful when you were pocket-sized, let's go back to that."
"I hate to disappoint." Gerry focuses on her. She's younger, faster than Trevor. Her neck is also very thin, and he Knows she favors her right side, and forgets to watch her legs. It's just a matter of getting a good kick in-
"Let's just kill him. He's no good to us like this, and who knows what he is now." Trevor is at his other side, no doubt giving him the same evaluation he just gave Julia. "One less monster."
"Oh yes, that's your whole thing, isn't it?" Gerry arches an eyebrow. "Pretending you're doing this to save people, and not because you're just another pair of hungry dogs."
"Better than just playing house with the monsters, if you ask me. How's dear sweet Jon?"
"Doesn't it worry you?" Gerry ignores Julia's taunts, looking at Trevor instead. That always did irk her when she interrogated him. "She doesn't have the best track record with parents, if I were you, I'd be concerned about ending like Robert Montauk."
That does it.
Julia launches at him with a roar, and Gerry has barely enough time to plant his feet to catch her- before a burst of fog shoots out of nowhere between them and Julia skids to a stop inches from touching it.
"I'm going to have to ask you two to leave the premises, please." The three of them freeze as the fog dissipates, leaving behind only Martin's grey, cold-eyed form. Gerry feels his mind kicking into overdrive because this is bad in so many levels. First and foremost, Martin and the hunters are in the same place at the same time, and that's less than ideal. Then there is the fact that Martin just came out of the Lonely, and-
"Who the hell are you?" Julia goes to push Martin aside, pulling her hand back as if burned when it goes right through him. "What-"
"Out." Martin says, his eyes hard behind his glasses. "Unless you want to wait for the others, in which case feel free to stay, they should be here soon."
Gerry smirks at the nervous look that passes between the two. Of course they wouldn't like to be the outnumbered ones.
"Remember how you used to ask me about the monsters? I'll give you a freebie, for old time's sake," he says, stepping forward to stand next to Martin. "You don't want to wait."
"Real cute." Julia bares her teeth at him, and Trevor narrows his eyes. She then whips around on her heel and walks towards the door, only stopping for long enough for Trevor to reach her, and Gerry watches them go with a bitter smile.
The doors closing after them is almost deafening in the silence left behind. Out the corner of his eye Gerry can see Martin start fidgeting, and he takes a deep, calming breath before turning to face him. It's alright. Martin is- he's here, he just has to pull him back.
"Did you really call anyone else?" Gerry asks.
Martin rolls his eyes, and Gerry notices with a pang of guilt that they're a cool, muted gray, despite the interaction. "Of course not. But I had to get them out, and I heard Tim say that Daisy alone was enough to send them running. Figured the idea of more people would only be more effective."
"I could've taken them," Gerry shrugs. Then, and his voice has grown a bit weaker, "I didn't know you could go into the Lonely now."
Martin looks down at the fog rolling around him like he's seeing it for the first time. "Hm. I didn't notice I was in, actually."
"That's- Martin, that's worse." Gerry grimaces. Martin is still human -as far as he can See- but only barely so.
"Is it?" Martin asks, and his contour is starting to blur and fade again, like a mirror fogging up. "Stay here today, will you? I'm sure Jon will be happy to have you."
"Martin, please-"
But he's gone.
Gerry stares for a moment at the spot he disappeared on, but eventually he gives a long, defeated sigh as he starts the way back down the stairs to the Archives.
Sending the hunters running no longer feels like a victory.
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newcaptainofsquad9 · 4 years
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Daria & Chill~Jimin x fem! reader
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Pairing: Jimin x reader
Summary: You finally get a weekend off from constant studying, and you plan on spending it alone. Your plans are thwarted by a rather persistent Jimin, your friend and crush who insists that he come over to give you company. Of course you couldn’t resist with his lonely voice and the fact that he promised snacks. During your Hulu viewing however Jimin gets rather close to you, forcing you to confess your feelings, along with other things.
Genre: College AU, Fluff, Romance, Smut
Word Count: 2, 955
 Warnings: Smut, you know the drill, don’t read unless you’re 18. 
Author’s Note: Whoops, more Jimin look at that. Other members stories are coming soon, I promise! Also as you see by the title there are Daria reverences, it’s ok  if you don’t get them but if watch the show too that’s dope. 
It’s almost six. Jimin should be on his way here. 
I can’t help but giggle as my heart flutters at the thought of Park Jimin. My best friend, my main shoulder to lean on for venting, gaming and just plain boredom. University has been up my ass lately with all these quizzes and assignments, I believe midterms snuck on everyone. This weekend was supposed to be chill: just me with ramen, but not just any ramen, I wanted to be experimental by adding cheese, boiled eggs and grilled chicken. After that it was gonna be some hot chocolate, courtesy of my roommates who overstocked prior to them leaving for their boyfriends’ houses( or dorms). 
My plan was thwarted by Mr. Park himself and his infamous, “what are u doing this weekend” text. Of course I could have ignored him, or worst left him on read, yet I didn’t. Those soft brown eyes came to mind, along with how those thick lips got whenever he pouted. Ok, maybe I shouldn't think about his lips or how kissable they are. Fuck, I can still cancel, right?
The abrupt vibration of my phone says otherwise. I pick it up from the couch next to my leg, opening it to see a text from yours truly.
Jimin: Outside your door, can I come in?
Well that defeats any attempts at trying to get out of this one. I rise with Jimin’s soft knocks. One quick look at the living room and I rush to the door, peeping through the peep hole prior to opening it. The moment I open it Jimin smiles, baring his teeth and dimples, the gesture bringing out his pale blonde hair beautifully. His arms are full of the snacks he promised: a plastic bag with what looks to be a box of popcorn, candy and sodas.
“Hi there stranger,” he greets.
“Hi,” I say, trying not to blush at how equal parts handsome,cute and sexy he looks in a black dress shirt, jeans and vans. He can truly pull off anything well.
“Wow Y/N,” Jimin gushes, “take a picture, maybe it’ll last longer.”
“Ah, wow sorry Jimin,” I say, “you just look really nice. Come in.”
I open the door wide enough and Jimin slips in. His eyes move over my own outfit: it’s nothing special, just some sweatpants and a dark hoodie. 
“You look stunning as always,” he says, “I was expecting pjs.” 
“Why did you think that?”
Jimin shrugs as he places the bag on the coffee table in front of the flat screen.
“I don’t know, you said you wanted a chill, laid back weekend,” he notes, “I expected cute pajama bottoms, that Avengers shirt you love so much and no bra.”
My face heats up at the meant of no bra. 
“J-Jimin,” I stammer, “maybe I wanted to look decent for my guest, hmm?”
Jimin giggles, smiling hard as he puts a hand through his blonde locks. 
“All jokes Y/N,” he says, “and I’m glad you consider me a guest, the sweats still look cute either way.”
I mumble a thanks, and throw on my hood to hide the rising blush in my cheeks. 
“S-so, what do you wanna watch first?” I ask while flipping through Hulu. 
Jimin hums. 
“It’s your chill weekend,” he says, “you pick.”
I give me a side longed look, taking in how comfort he got so quickly, leaning into the couch. He’s already nibbling on a strawberry laffy taffy stick, watching my saved shows with interest. I land on Daria, my smiling growing at the fond memories I had watching it.
“Daria sound good?”
Jimin giggles at my enthusiasm. 
“Of course.” 
I press an episode in it’s later season and slump down beside him, giving us enough space so I don’t turn into a blushing mess beside him. The iconic theme cuts on and I’m glued to the screen, singing along. 
“You want anything?”
I jump at how close Jimin got all a sudden. We’re shoulder to shoulder, his breath hits my ear. 
“I-um, yeah, popcorn would be nice, the microwave is to the right,” I say, pointing behind me. 
Jimin pats my knee, rises and pulls a bag of unpopped popcorn from his plastic bag. 
“Do you want me to pause?”
Jimin shakes his head. 
“No, you enjoy it,” he says. 
I do as he says, too engrossed in Daria’s oddly, yet still timing commentary and Quinn’s air headed ways. Jane’s always dope, but the one who always cracks me up is Sandi and her hilarious voice. 
“Why does she sound like that?” Jimin asks, returning with a hefty bag of kettle corn. 
“I don’t know, but it’s still stupid and funny,” I say. 
Jimin chuckles through a mouthful of taffy as he points at Tiffany. 
“Her voice is weird too, of course they’d hang out together,” he says. 
We get halfway through the second episode when Jimin whistles lowly at Daria kissing Tom in his car. 
“Wait, isn’t he with Jane?” he asks.   
I nod as I take a sip of soda. 
“Yep, it’s complicated,” I say, “they dated for a while then he got with Daria later, even though that doesn’t last long either.”
Jimin bites off his final piece of taffy. 
“Damn, that sucks,” he says, “how long have you lasted with someone?”
I nearly choke on my soda. 
“Um, p-pardon me? Last?”
Jimin narrows his eyes and giggles.
“Not like that, well maybe that too, but in this case I meant dating.”
I cannot believe this man is asking this. 
“There was this guy in high school I dated for a moment, before he moved on to another girl,” I explain, “all we did was hold hands, after that I never really lasted with anyone else.”
Jimin nods, eyes never leaving me.
“Are you seeing anyone?” he asks abruptly.
My chest flares at the question. He licks his lips, which should be because of all the taffy he just ate, I hope.
“No, but-”
He slides closer, my knee now touching his jean clad one. 
“But?” he asks. 
“There is this guy, and he drives me crazy.”
Jimin bites down on his lip, eyeing me with those smoldering brown pupils. God, he’s so close. His lips are more plump and pink from the candy, super kissable at the moment. 
“Does he drive you as crazy as I do?” he asks. 
“Jimin-”
His lips crash into mine, tasting of the sweet, yet artificial strawberry flavor. I blink before returning the kiss. His lips curl into a grin as they continue their work, stealing my breath away. Daria’s theme song blasts again, forcing me to jump, and Jimin to chuckle. 
“Maybe we should mute this, yeah?” he asks, biting down on his lip again. 
“You don’t wanna watch anymore?”
Jimin shakes his head. 
“Maybe later, all I want to do is kiss you again.”
His words send my head into a daze. 
“Jimin, wait,” I say. 
Jimin stops at my words, he’s close again, chest almost pressed against my own. He frowns.
“Do you think I’m a bad kisser?” he asks. 
A nervous giggle erupts from my chest.
“N-No, you’re amazing, it’s not that.”
Jimin slides away, eyes down on the carpet below our feet.
“Did I read you wrong?” he asks. 
“Jimin, n-no- wait, what?”
Jimin grins sheepishly. 
“I thought you liked me, I guess I-”
“H-hold on! I do like you!” I exclaim, “y-you just caught me off guard.”
Jimin’s face lights up. 
“R-Really?”
I nod and lean in to kiss him. He replies with a grin as our lips meet again, his lips are feverish this time, pressing harder, forcing me to groan against him. Jimin pulls back with a chuckle, hands moving down to caress my thighs. 
“Can I tell you something? Before we go any further,” he says. 
My face heats up again. Nothing can really top kissing him-wait did he just say further?
“Y/N, relax,” he reassures, “I’m up for doing whatever you want. Or,” he pauses to lick his lips again, “whatever you want to do with me.”
His hands continue to rub at my thighs, making me squeeze them together. 
“Mmh, is this ok?” he asks. 
“Yeah, I-I just,” I pause as Jimin pulls me closer so that I’m flush against his chest. 
“Hmm? Talk to me jagiya,” he says, “let me know what you’d like to do. It is your chill night.”
“Yeah, this is ok,” I say, “just keep kissing and touching me.”
Jimin smiles brightly, eyebrows furrowing up quickly prior to leaning back in. 
“Of course I can.”
Our lips meet again: Jimin’s soft touches correspond as his lips move mine to pant. His hands trace down my sides, forcing me to moan into the kiss he sets me into next. My jaw is his next target as his lips trail down and attached themselves to my neck. 
“J-Jimin, have you done this before?”
Jimin hesitates as he pulls away from my neck to press his forehead against my own. 
“Yes,” he admits, “a few times in the past.”
I nod and play with his hand that rests just above my waist. 
“If you’re wondering if I’m clean, I am,” he says, “but I’ll understand if you don’t want to.”
I place my hand on his cheek, forcing him to look to me. 
“Jimin, I want to, I just.”
Jimin squeezes my hand. 
“What? It’s ok, I’m a big boy,” he teases, “I can handle rejection, I have before.”
“I find that hard to believe,” I  say, “why would someone resist you Jimin.”
Jimin shrugs, a smile playing at his lips. 
“I didn’t know you found me so desirable Y/N, here I thought my crush wouldn’t go anywhere,” he says, “it’s all right if you don’t want to have sex.”
Jimin presses his point with a kiss to my cheek and slides away from me to settle for putting an arm around my shoulders. I can’t help but notice the tent in his jeans and how he shifted his legs. 
“Jimin, you’re hard,” I deadpan. 
Jimin chuckles. 
“Yeah, it goes to show how much I want you,” he says, “but I’m willing to wait, anything for you.” 
I move to palm his hardness, eliciting a sigh from him. 
“Baby, we don’t have to,” he groans. 
“I want to help you Jimin and I-” I pause and blush at the thought. 
Jimin grabs my hand, his eyes dark and shrouded with desire. 
“Tell me jagi, this is your night,” he says, “whatever you want.”
I bite down on my lip as I bring my hand back down on his lap to rub him through his jeans. 
“Can I touch you and maybe you could, “ I flush and pause again.
Jimin pulls me back towards him as his hands travel up and down my thighs at an agonizingly slow pace. 
“So, you want to jerk me off? Deal. Can I guess what else you want?”
I shudder at how low his voice got, completely overtaken in lust that I have to hide my own moan. Jimin tugs me closer so I’m nearly straddling him. He doesn’t give me time to adjust before his lips ghost back down my neck again. His tongue teases at the top of my chest, brown pupils dilated as he looks up at me. 
“Would you like me to touch you, here?”
With his question he goes to cup my breasts, thumb gently swirling around the nipple. I tense up at his action then bounce back down against his bulge. His breath adds to the sensation, fingers tracing down my shirt, stopping at the waistband of my sweats. 
“Want me to touch you here too?” he asks, nodding down to my lower region.
“Yes Jimin.”
A chuckle washes through him as his hand slips down my sweats, fingers moving slow yet with purpose against my warm center. My breath hitches once he slides my panties to the side, the tip of his index finger teasing my entrance once more. He continues to ease it in, hungry eyes never leaving me as I let out a low groan. 
“Mmh, you’re so wet already,” Jimin purrs, “as much as I’d love to finger you more jagi-”
He slips down onto his knees in front of me, yanks my sweats down to my ankles, forcing my heart to quicken its already rapid pace. 
“I’d much rather eat you out right here and now,” he declares, “is that ok?”
 Jimin’s duality never fails: he’s peering up at me with a tiny pout along with the sweet cadence of his voice. Even between my legs he seems as dashing as ever, making me squirm more. 
“Yes, just-we should probably-ah-”
His lips travel up my legs before taking a long kitten lick at my clothed slit. 
“Hm?” he reply's innocently, “talk to me.”
“S-shouldn’t we un mute the TV?” I ask, “w-we wouldn’t want anyone to hear.”
Jimin hums while tugging down my panties in concentration. 
“We wouldn’t would we?” he teases, “so what you’re saying is that you are gonna be loud.”
“I-”
Before I could say a word Jimin’s tongue flicks quick and hard against my folds, mouth smacking as he leans his head down to drag his tongue deeper. My head lulls back as a high pitched moan escapes me as he slows down with a prolonged lick and a groan that forces my legs to tremble. 
“J-Jimin, t-the remote, please, o-oh fuck!” 
His breath hits my center as he chuckles lowly. 
“Anything for you jagiya,” he says, but...”
He trails off prior to diving back in with the slow licks, looking up at me with those innocent eyes. How can he be like this? Is it legal to look so cute while doing something so sinful?
“Jimin!” I yelp, gripping down on his blonde locks, “please, j-just hurry!”
“God, you sound so amazing, mmh. Here.”
Jimin rocks back on his knees to reach for the remote behind him. In one swift motion he brings the sounds to the TV back to life; Daria’s monotone voice and Quinn’s annoying one fills the room. 
That’s the only chance I get to breathe until Jimin’s tongue continues it’s work. My hips roll to meet his tongue, my eyes screw shut as my moans grow and grow to echo through the empty halls of my dorm. Thank God my roommates aren’t home. I wouldn’t be able to explain this anyway. A build up bundle of nerves gather in my stomach as Jimin’s fingers join his expert tongue. 
“Jimin, I’m close, I think.”
“Yeah?” he asks with a doting smile, “let go ok?”
I nod as his fingers bend and bend as I pulse around him. His mouth takes full control again as he licks for dear life. My body responds accordingly as I come with a deep groan, and shudder. Jimin laps up my juices with vigor, I try to steady myself above him with a strong grip on his locks. He moans and pulls back, mouth covered in my mess. 
“You taste as sweet as the taffy,” he notes as he wipes his mouth clean, “mmh, no, even better than the candy.”
Jimin gently pulls my panties up, along with my sweats before rejoining me on the couch as if he wasn’t down on his knees a minute ago. He leans forward to grab a pack of gum from his snack back, eyes never leaving my own. 
“How was it?” he asks with a wink as he pops a square strip into his mouth. 
“Amazing,” I say, “w-what about you?”
Jimin sighs, and shuts his eyes as he chews away. 
“I promised you could, didn’t I?” he says as he moves to unbuckle his jeans and slide down his zipper. 
My hands push his own out of the way as I reach down in his briefs to bring out his length. 
“Ah, slow down,” he groans. 
I giggle at how much of a mess he is already.
“Oh, like you just did?” I counter, “ok.”
I start to pump at a steady pace, bitting my lip as I gauge Jimin’s reaction. His eyes flutter as tiny moans escape his plump lips. He’s already swollen in my hand with a bit of precum trailing from him. 
“Y/N,” he groans, “mmh, please ah!”
I slow my movements and give his length a slow, fluid pump, eliciting a delicious gasp from him. 
“Jagi,” he moans. 
“Talk Jimin,” I tease, “please what?”
His head lulls to my shoulder, mouth agape as he struggles to speak. 
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“Faster!” he yelps, “please, I-I need to come!”
I oblige and jerk him faster and faster with his moans growing higher. His voice goes higher than I’ve ever heard, forcing me to jump and reach over his lap to grab the remote and turn the TV up a few more notches. My hand gets coated in his come, along with the bottom of my shirt and his own. 
“Fuck, Y/N,” he groans, “damn, sorry about your shirt.”
“Don’t be,” I say as I kiss him deeply.
He whimpers into the kiss while I slowly remove my hand from his length. I pull back and trace my fingers along his jawline. 
“Does this mean we’re a couple now?” I ask, “I-I mean I know we didn’t really have sex bu-”
Jimin cuts me off with a chaste kiss. 
“We are Y/N,” he whispers, “I still would have cuddled and watched Daria with you if we didn’t do anything.”
“Really?” 
Jimin chuckles and presses a kiss to my forehead. 
“Yes really, now can we lay back and watch what Daria is going to expertly critic next?”
“Of course,” I say, “right after we change shirts.”                
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The Bottle Bottoms Glasses (White Demon’s Love Song, Part 2.)
Series description: A new job was what the reason you found yourself on a lonely roadtrip on the western coast, ending up in the woods of Olympian Peninsula. Yet a sudden car malfuction was what cause your unplanned stay in Forks. To your surprise, there was a lot of sinister things going on under the veil of fog.
Part summary: The man who you were still suspecting to kill you when given an opportunity did exactly what you wanted - he took you to meet Charlie Swan. And then, you spent some time with him at an errand.
A/N: So, we can see Jacob having his moments here and there, but don’t worry. Eclipse Jacob will be back again. But so far, I am enjoying where the story is going. It’s also kinda funny.
Tagging: @missdictatorme​
Word count: 4.6 K
Twilight playlist: ✨ Twilight Crackheads ✨
Series masterlist: H E R E
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Since you seemed to be serious about the whole talking to the police chief thing, you were now sitting in the black Chevy after Black called someone quickly. Jacob was starting the machine without a word, but this time, the silence wasn't as weird as the first time around. After a very nice offer Jake gave you, you weren't worried that he might just... Bury you six feet somewhere around in the Forks woods. The respect out of his body proportions was still there, but it was slowly disappearing.
The cabin was once more nicely warm. There was one moment when you thought about taking your jacket off - yet then you remembered where you were. Forks certainly wasn't a place where would you just wanted to walk around with the extra coverage. Jacob's radio was now on and just like you before, he was tuned into Radio Forks.
It was a short ride to the police station, but the short ride told you just everything you needed to know about the town - it was a small town, one of the ones where a serial killer could be raging, and the people wouldn't probably notice. It was a sleepy town, and from what you've gathered, the people knew each other very well. Jacob was nodding at people throughout the whole ride with a small smile - showing you a whole another side of the annoyed, fed-up mechanic you've introduced yourself to not even ten minutes ago. When you sometimes looked at the man, he had a big smile full of white teeth, which were beautifully balanced with his russet skin. And the hair, boy, a lot of women would kill for this kind of long, strong, black hair. Maybe, just maybe, he was just big, but not dangerous.
Well, this wasn't your experience with big men, so naturally, you still weren't convinced to just feel good around such a huge man. No. It was giving you creeps - and honestly, you knew that the man will be giving you subtle creeps until the last day you'll be in Forks. As you were lost in your thoughts about big, tall men creeping you out, the car suddenly stopped. Jacob turned the engine off, then he leaned his elbow to the seat and turned his face to you. In front of the Chevy, there was a big sing telling that the mechanic drove where you wanted him to - it was the police department of Forks you were looking at.
In your opinion, the building looked like a cabin where you'd be glad to spend your holiday in. If there wasn't the damn huge sing, you would never stop in front of this and said to yourself - 'Yep, this is the police station. Policemen work here.'. - "Charlie already knows we're here, so, go ahead and suit yourself." - "Charlie?" - You wondered and looked out of the Chevy window. The cold drizzling had changed into heavy rain, but you kind of... Didn't want to get out of the car just now. - "The police chief. Charlie Swan, he's a great man." - Jacob explained to you simply as if you were supposed to hear about the Forks police chief before. Yeah, sure, good ol' Charlie, how come you didn't realize as soon as Jacob told you - you were eating steaks and drank beer with Charlie every damn Sunday. Of course, the Charlie you knew for so damn long. - "I'm kind of scared that the chief of police knows you personally. Now, you can just kill me, dismember me and dig me somewhere under the ground and getting away with it."
With this, Black's expression got worried once again. Why were you sure that he was about to kill you? He was looking dangerous, that was a known fact especially when you got to know he's 6'7 feet tall - but he never hurt anyone. And now, there you were sitting next to him, positive that he's about to murder you in some gruesome way. - "Trust me, this man loves the law. Charlie's a great cop. The only man he'd knock dead without thinking about it too much is his son-in-law." - At that, he jumped out of the cabin into the cold rain, walking around to open the door for you. - "Well, come on. I already called him and I need a secretary." - At this, you grinned and moved closer to the edge of the seat. Then, with a small splash, you've fallen into a small puddle.
You were only half serious about telling the police. But, since you were already there and the station was warm and dry, it was a better idea than just telling your friends. How would your friends help you from their homes while you were in Forks? No. They wouldn't be able to help you. Mr. Charlie Swan, on the other hand...
Most of the employees nodded at Jacob with an honest smile, just like when you were riding through the town. He was known at the station - which you didn't know how to feel about it. It wasn't making you exactly happy. Why was it so? The answer came through a simple question. - "Hey, Luke! Is the car okay now? How about the engine?" - Jacob called onto the whole interior as if the said Luke was deaf - soon after, he was getting to said man through the people standing in his way. The familiar voice made a man stand up. You watched him coming out of his glazed office - his expression was one of the 'I furrow all the damn time' ones, and it was exaggerated by a perfect mustache under his upper lip.
He wasn't the youngest, no, but he wasn't that old either - in your estimation, he wasn't older than fifty. The man was walking to Jacob, who was still yelling all over the office, with a furrow and deep wrinkles. One of his hands ruffled his dark brown hair, the dark eyes were watching Jacob as he started talking to him - the man was much quieter than Jacob, so you didn't know what they were talking about. Oh. So this must'be been the chief of local police, Charlie Swan. The man Jake told you about. He seemed... Nice. Charlie seemed to be a normal guy. And on his way to you. Well, you've asked for a talk with the police, didn't you? Why were you so stressed all of a sudden? Jacob Black, the mechanic guy, was just doing what you asked him to do. No big deal. Maybe you were stressing out because it seemed absurd, but whatever. It was for your feeling of safety. - "Hello there, miss." - The Charlie police guy offered you his palm and you shook it with a timid smile. - "My name's Charlie Swan and I am the local chief of police. What can I do for you?" - He wondered. At the end of his introduction, he gave you a rather uncomfortable smile - this let you know that both of you felt very dumb at that moment. - "My name's Y/N Y/L/N, pleasure to meet you." - "Pleasure's on my side." - Charlie mumbled back as politeness ordered him.
Now, it was your time to get to the point of your visit. - "I just wanted to report you that I'll be staying at Jacob's for two weeks or so until my car gets repaired. I'm heading to Tacoma, so once my Beetle will be able to ride again, I'll outta here in no time." - Wow. You were flustered. You were speaking so fast that both men had trouble understanding you. In the end, you smiled awkwardly and swung on your heels as you waited for Charlie's response. Quickly, he put his palms on his sides to make you sure he's taking it seriously, but his smile was giving it away. - "I mean... It feels good that someone from the authorities would know in case... Anything happened." - You nodded, calling out Jacob without even using his name. Charlie's eyebrows sprung up when you finished once more, and he was trying to make out what you were saying.
The fear wasn't as irrational as one would say - this was a strange town for you, you were a stranger as well, so it could be understood why you wanted the police to know about your stay at Black's mechanics. But... Jacob was one of the nicest and best brought-up boys Charlie had ever get to know. He liked the boy, he knew him ever since Jacob was born. He was there when Sara had died and when Billy was put on his wheeling chair, he was there to look at Jacob's older sisters rising the boy up on their own, instead of his mother. - "I can assure you, miss, that this man is one of the nicest in town. He wouldn't hurt a fly." - Charlie answered when he finally suppressed his need to laugh out loud. - "Jacob's a fine boy. But if you'd need help with anything, try calling this number." -With this, the chief of police slipped you a small, white card with his name on it and his number right after it. Black, while you were talking about everything, was leaning his bottom into a small table, and with his arms over his chest, he watched and listened to you. - "Okay?" - Charlie smiled, and it was an honest smile this time, before patting your shoulder. - "Okay. Thanks, Mr. Swan." - Quickly, you slipped the small card into your wallet just so you wouldn't lose it.
Well, it was easier than you thought. A lot easier. You had a good feeling inside you as Jacob was walking out of the building next to you. One of his palms was slipped into the back pocket of his jeans and... There was a grin on his face. Sure, he seemed it as redundant, but you were seemingly feeling better at that moment. Charlie knew Jacob's cool, but he told him that sure, he didn't have a problem with talking to you. - "Trust me, Charlie will be stalking me everywhere now. Just to make sure you're fine." - Black mumbled and to your surprise, opening you the door to the cabin of his Chevy. You appreciated it. The seat was kind of high up and the door was kind of heavy. The Chevy was a truck that couldn't be destroyed - in your opinion if this animal would get into a car crash, it would ruin all the cars it would meet on the way.
This wasn't a car - it was a tank. - "It feels good. Mr. Swan is kind of nice." - You agreed with what Jacob told you before. Charlie was the typical cop from a small town. - "He knows me for a long time. Since I was a little kid, probably." - "Well, that must've been ages ago." - A mutter left you before you settled down onto the seat. This time, you gladly took off your jacket, since it was pretty soaked by the rain, and jolted around to find just the right place on the seat. Jacob didn't answer your remark, knowing very well that you were talking about his proportions again. He just sighed, turning the engine on.
Fuck, how come you hadn't noticed how loud it was previously? You'd swear that you had almost had a heart attack. - "What about if you'd come with me on one quick errand and some grocery shopping? That might make you sure that I'm not a damn serial killer." - The man said with a straight face, at first, but soon, the smile found its way through. - "An errand?" - You wondered while Jacob was already focused on driving the Chevy truck. - "Old Mrs. Peterson down the road wants me to take a look at her old car. I told her that even for me, the car's a total wreck, but she keeps on paying me to repair it." - "Maybe, she has an emotional connection to the car? Just like I do." - At that, Jacob grinned and turned the car to a part of the town you hadn't seen yet. You'd driven around a school and a big, white church. Forks seemed to expand every time you ventured into a new part; suddenly, the town didn't seem to be as small as you were so sure of.
"Listen. I am a big appreciator of classic cars. Like this Chevy for example. I'm keeping this car in check for God knows how long, because it was in good shape when I got my hands on it, I've been taking care of my friend's veteran Chevy and it was okay for almost sixty years. But you need to realize that there's a difference between classic cars and real wrecks." - Wow. He was into old cars a big-time, huh? Yet the horrified expression upon seeing the inside of your Beetle was speaking for itself. - "You think that my Beetle is a wreck." - At the accusation, Jacob pointed his finger at you, but didn't say a word. His grin was all you needed to make out precisely what Jacob thought about your car. - "You're the one who said it out loud, but... Basically. I do think that. How's the time?" - Black asked, his tone was still joking. - "It's... It's two p.m. Wow, the time flies by here." - You muttered upon watching the clock on your display. You've been in Forks for almost three hours, counting from the time when Jacob drove you to the workshop, but it didn't feel like it.
"Great time. We'll be driving for at least ten minutes, so..." - Oh no, it was quiz time. You could tell from the way the man straightened up behind the steering wheel. - "How comes that someone, just hypothetically, who isn't familiar with local weather, ends up in a car that broke down in the middle of local nowhere and waits until a certain, super nice and handsome mechanic comes to help them out of trouble?" - Was it the same man you had on the phone three hours ago? No. This couldn't be Jacob Black. After a moment of staring at the profile of his face, you snickered quietly before thinking about the answer. - "Just hypothetically, yea? That someone is about to start as a teacher in Tacoma and their friends had told them, that the western coast is simply beautiful at this time of the year. Well, they would almost believe said friends if they weren't stuck with said mechanic. He's nice, they aren't so sure for now, but the handsome part is highly debatable." - Well, Jacob asked for it. The only thing you were hoping about was that his ego wasn't that fragile. But he took it better than you thought, asking you about your stops on the road trip and if you had a fun time on the road. - "I should warn you before we stop at the house." - Jacob said after a moment of having some kind of a strange grin on his face.
"This woman is a typical granny-type. Prepare for tons of cookies, some cake, a tea if she'll like you." - "So, you've taken me because you don't want to get rounded, okay." - "No, I took you with me to do the paperwork? Congratulations on getting the job, by the way."  - To be honest, you were looking forward to some candid, granny-like love. For the last week and a half, you had all your family members and friends on the phone only, this was ending up in you seeking out some genuine human emotions. And grannies were simply best for this kind of stuff. - "She also has a bad memory, so she might be calling you names and thinking you're my girlfriend, so just... Don't freak out and keep it down, huh?" - With this, Jacob became serious again. There was no trace of the jolly, joking-around man you've been in the car with for the last ten minutes.
Naturally, your mind jumped to conclusions - this must've been about a break-up. There was no other option that would make sense to you. Maybe, he was with a girl and they were super happy together. Then, something happened, he might have killed her or not, and the girl left. This seemed like a plausible answer. Without a problem, you nodded. This was something you could vibe with. Being this strange man's girlfriend in old, possibly senile granny's eyes? No problem.
The woman, Mrs. Peterson, was already standing in front of the house - and Lord, she was so cute dressed in the raincoat. She had wrinkly skin, a big toothless smile, and completely white hair. And of course, the traditional glasses resembling the bottoms of beer bottles. She might have some memory issues, but she sure as hell wasn't deaf. But Jacob's truck was unmissable. You loved the lady nonetheless. - "Hi, Mrs. Peterson! I'm here because of the engine. It started acting up, didn't it?" - Jacob cried to her, leading her under the roof of her old house so she wouldn't get sick. Quickly, you put your jacket on as well, then you grasped the papers you were supposed to fill instead of Black and ran after them. - "This is my new secretary, Y/N. She'll be doing the paperwork, okay?" - Jacob explained her simply, making sure he said your name loud and clear. - "I was wondering why Bella hasn't come there with you for such a long time! I'm glad to see her again!" - Mrs. Peterson answered with a happy smile, ignoring your name completely. The old lady grabbed your hand, just before Jacob gave you an apologetic stare, and led you to her kitchen.
It was a small one, with a tiny table. The kitchen was just magical, filled with her family photos, old photos of her, super old pottery pieces (like kettles, small cups, and plates), and mainly filled with embroideries hanging on the wall. An old dog came to check you out as well. It was a pug who was missing one eye and immediately, it went to nuzzle your legs. Oh Lord, now, you weren't so sure about being too excited about the good ol' Mrs. Peterson. Well, you've been sitting in her kitchen already, weren't you? There weren't any excuses now. With a gulp, you smiled at the old lady and sat on the chair quite uncomfortably.
Now, you understood why Jacob hoped you won't be fracking out. - "How are you doing, darling? How's Charlie?" - She started asking, already brewing you a cup of tea. How many women had Jake come here with? How many Bellas were there before you? This was giving you the creeps. If you were creeped out by Jake being as huge as he was, this granny was a whole new level for you. Jacob was standing in the doorframe leading to the kitchen, giving you another apologetic smile. But you decided to play along - which honestly surprised the man. Dear Lord, you hoped that Charlie is Charlie Swan you met earlier... If he wasn't, there was a possibility for the evening going completely wild. - "I'm great, Mrs. Peterson, kinda busy these days, but somehow still managing. And Charlie... It's Charlie. Always busy with his... Police work?" - You glanced at Jacob quickly, who was showing you a thumb up.
This road trip will be the one which will soon go legendary, you were sure of it - the first day itself was damn wild. You couldn't wait to tell your friends about it. - "I should go with Jacob, I'll be helping him writing things down." - Slowly, you tried to stand up, but the woman's palm pushed you back to the chair. With this, she simultaneously tossed a whole plate of home-made cookies. - "Don't worry about it, we'll do the paperwork later." - Jake winked. Oh, that damn bastard. He tossed you to the lion's mouth - the lion being the old lady. He just didn't want her to talk at him while he'll be working. It was an evil master plan. - "Enjoy yourselves!" - Jake jolted cheerfully and let you chat with the lady.
She was very lonely and very talkative. While her old pug, name Bobbo, was running around in the kitchen and bumped into everything he could, she told you everything about how her husband died, how her sister lives in California and she even talked about her health problems. Sometimes, she threw in some random questions - which were aimed at Bella specifically. Whoever the mysterious Bella woman (also possibly Jacob's girlfriend), you were hoping to do her justice. Also, you hoped that Bella won't meet Mrs. Peterson after this, because whoever she was, she could get to know various wild things she had no idea about. Also, her food was delicious and though she was thinking you were a different person, she did give you a ton of that grandma love you hoped for. It was as lovely as it was weird. Jacob didn't tarry around - going through the engine didn't take him more than 45 minutes. When he was done, he appeared in the kitchen with a big smile full fo teets with being messy from his head to his toes.
"Okay, Mrs. Peterson. I know you've been trying to cross the fifty miles per hour mark again and I specifically asked you not to." - Jacob smiled at the woman and took one of the cookies, biting on it. Then he took another... And another... Soon, he ate ten of them. He ate ten of the damn huge chocolate cookies like a savory. Dear Lord. - "You found out. You always do, Jacob." - Mrs. Peterson got up and searched her purse. - "Let it be, come on. It was nothing, Mrs. Peterson." - The man smiled at the old lady.
This tenderness reminded you that at moments, Jacob can be a genuinely selfless person. How much money was he loosing on orders like these? Hundreds? Possibly thousands? He mentioned he was struggling with money when he told you 'I have to make something outta this, you know?', but he still didn't accept money from his customer. This, no matter how dumb it was, made you smile a bit. He seemed to be too nice for his good. Shortly after, you were leaving Mrs. Peterson's house. She gave you a full bowl of cookies and a whole apple pie as a sign of gratitude. Well, maybe you didn't have to cook that evening? But you were sure you'll share the paying of groceries with Jacob. - "Bella, darling, can I talk to you for a second?" - The woman cried out while standing in the main door. Bobbo was dumbly smiling at you, with one of his eyes missing, looking utterly cute. Jacob looked at you leaving the truck to walk to the door - you appreciated that now, it was only cold in Forks. - "What?" - You smiled at Mrs. Peterson sweetly, making sure you listened to what she had to say.
"It's a nice boy, ain't he?" - She asked, giggling while looking at Jacob waiting for you in the Chevy, already listening to Radio Forks. Knowing she still perceives you as Bella, you nodded. There wasn't much to say. - "Be nice to him. And come to visit me soon, okay?" - At that moment, she smoothed your cheek. This was so pure and lovely. - "Sure thing, Mrs. Peterson." - You smiled with an uneasy feeling - because you were lying to the old woman directly to her face. - "Sure thing." - You mumbled even more quietly. And with that, you left Bobbo and Mrs. Peterson standing in the front door and waved at her from the cabin of the Chevy as Jacob turned the small towtruck back on the road to Forks.
"Okay." - Jacob got out of himself after a few minutes on the road, while you were listening to some indie music Radio Forks was playing. - "I need to say that I'm really surprised you hadn't run away after ten minutes alone with her." - "She was kind of nice." - You mumbled back, lost in your thoughts. Who was Bella? What happened to her? Was it even Jacob's girlfriend? Or was there something else going on? Without realizing, you started furrowing in front of yourself. - "I'm sorry." - Jacob muttered after another long moment of silence. When you sounded so weird, he just figured out that you want him to apologize. Honestly, it was pretty understandable. He quite literally threw you under the bus named Mrs. Peterson. But you still sat there in complete silence.
Damn, now, you were curious about that mysterious Bella gal. And you almost asked Jacob, forgetting you've met him just earlier that very day. A lot happened - a lot of things that made your brain a mess. For a moment, you genuinely thought you knew Jacob for a long time, the Bella questions almost slipped out of your mouth - but then you realized that he's a stranger. Now, you were sure he won't be killing you any time soon. So you tried to snap out of it. - "Don't be. I kinda enjoyed myself. Mrs. Peterson made me a cup of the best tea I've drunk in the last two weeks - and the cookies, ugh. So good." - You groaned happily at the fresh memory inside your brain. A grin appeared on your face as you said so.
"You're tougher than I thought." - Jacob said honestly, making you look at the profile of his face. - "I would've run away from the house after ten minutes of her talking about her trips to the hospital." - Well, this was a compliment. For the rest of the drive to the grocery store, you've both sat there in silence. And the grocery store... Well, it was small. Small. Tiny almost. At first, you were worried that you might not get all of the food you wanted - but it was like walking into the magical tent in Harry Potter. The grocery store appeared ten times bigger all of a sudden. It was nice that you and Jacob were able to figure out what you'll be cooking, now that there was two people for some time in the workshop, and that you also shared the groceries fifty-fifty.
Then, there was the part when Jacob showed you the room you've been about to sleep at. And dear Lord, there was a genuine mess there. Jacob surely was suffering one of those 'genius but messy person' inflictions. There were clothes everywhere, some of them were just shreds of former t-shirts or sweatpants, which made you conclude again - was this man having a lot of lady visitors? Was he dating some wild chick? You didn't care from any point than not wanting to listen to... Various sounds at night. Ashamedly, he quickly picked up the clothes and threw them on a small pile in his room. The visitor's room was small but nice. It had a large window facing the woods, a heating, bed, and a small wardrobe; the walls were painted with calm, deep green color - resembling the woods outside. Before he gave you a small pile of bedsheets, he checked if the heating working. - "Take a shower, you're not looking good. Forks' weather could a lot for someone who isn't used to it. Use the bathroom at your will. Just... Don't let hair laying there somewhere, okay? I'll be working on another car I have to repair, so, I would appreciate it if you'd come down then and help me with the papers? Please?" - Jacob was speaking so quickly you barely grasped the topic. You just answered. - "Sure."
So far, Forks was surpassing all of your expectations. It was much more than a boring town in the middle of somewhere.
At that moment, you hadn't a single idea about what else you're going to uncover unintentionally.
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tera-91 · 4 years
Text
Strangers
Summary: Patton meets a familiar stranger 
Pairing: Moxiety if you squint 
Warnings: hints of homelessness, amnesia 
word count: 1842
Patton stared into the window. The warm, orange light illuminated the gray, slush covered metal stairs under his thick boots. His breath, visible in the bitter cold air, had begun to fog up the glass. He should feel weird, scared, perhaps even concerned. Afterall here he was sitting on a cold, wet, fire escape with his back against the brick wall outside the window of the apartment of a virtual stranger. 
‘Wow that sounds so creepy’ Patton thought as he took in the apartment’s décor. Despite being mostly cool shades of blues, purples, and blacks Patton could practically feel the warmth from the cushions and blankets that littered the room. He wasn’t a total stranger. At least to Patton he wasn’t, even if he didn’t know his name.
Patton had met him in a park one day. The man was nice, what caught his attention first was the purple hair that was visible under the hood. He sat on the bench next to Patton, closer than most people dared. The color of his hoodie almost matched the one that Patton had found left at a different park one day. Unlike the one he wore, the man’s had a protective body of leather. Patton had never seen a jacket that was leather with a cloth hood before, but he liked how it looked. Since that day Patton would periodically see the man, sometimes he would find random items on the bench.
One day he found a pair of gloves on the bench. They were different than anything that he had seen before. They were black with baby blue highlights on them. The palms had leather on them in places that it made it easier to grip things, there was also a heavier leather over the knuckles. The fingers had the option of being fingerless, he just had to pull the tip back, it fascinated him. Lastly, the back of the hand and up the wrist had extra fabric, it almost looked like scales. They certainly kept his hands warm.
About a week or so later Patton found a hat. He wasn’t sure what the exterior was made from. Whatever it was, the hat repelled water unlike the hood of his hoodie. The interior was lined with a soft material and warm. There were flaps on either side that covered his ears if he wanted it to. He was surprised that the flaps could hook up if it was too warm, he smiled as he realized they looked like cat ears.
Many times Patton had found food. He didn’t make the connection between the items or food with the man for a long time. He had been sitting on the bench again, trying to warm up in the sunlight, when the man sat next to him again. They had never spoken but after a few months they sat in comfortable silence. The man, as he usually did, left first. Patton noticed that the man picked up a white bag and placed it between them before he got up and left. Patton looked between his retreating form and the bag several times before he reached for it. Inside the bag was a turkey sandwich and several prepackaged snacks, including his favorite, nutter butters.
One day, on his way between parks Patton caught a glimpse of the man. He was carrying groceries in one hand as he seemed to talk on the phone before he made his up a small set of steps and into a building. Patton figured it probably was where the man lived and just kept walking. It wasn’t until two weeks later that he was walking between parks again and he saw the man exit the building that he knew for sure that was his building. After that he unconsciously found himself walking by every so often to and from his go to spots even if it wasn’t on the most direct route.
Tonight Patton had been run out of his crudely made nest area. Patton found himself wondering the streets trying to find another area to make a spot to settle down in. He turned a corner and turned down an ally. It took him a moment to realize that his was in the ally beside the man’s building. Patton looked around to see if there was any material that he could use to make an area to lay down. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything that was particularly clean or comfortable looking. It wasn’t a warm enough night for Patton to just lay down and force himself to get some form of rest. He decided to climb the fire escape, maybe if he would get lucky and find something on the roof. Sometimes people would dry their laundry on the roofs of buildings. It was probably too cold to air dry things but maybe someone forgot something up there or moved out and abandoned something. He’s gotten lucky before.
He got to the third floor when something caught his eye. The blinds of the window were pulled up revealing the interior. What caught Patton’s attention was a pair of gloves that sat on a desk right next to the window. They almost looked identical to the pair he had on his hands but the ones on the desk in the apartment seemed unfinished. The next thing he noticed was a jacket thrown on the back of the chair that looked like the jacket the man always wore.
If the jacket was on the chair maybe the man was home. In the back of his mind he knew it was weird, it would probably be concerning if he were to walk in the room and see Patton at his window. Patton was tired and cold he couldn’t bring himself to really care. It was too cold to care about anything other than finding a warm place to sleep.
As Patton sat there he could feel himself start to drift off. He shouldn’t. It’s too cold. He almost missed the sound of the window as it slid up. “Are you going to sit there all night.” A voice asked. It was almost enchanting, Patton suppressed a giggle at the thought. The voice was deeper than Patton would have imagined but he couldn’t bring himself to question it as he looked up to see the familiar face.
The man was half out of the window, leaning against the frame. When Patton didn’t answer right away the man reached his hand out to Patton. “Come in, it’s freezing out here. You’re looking a little blue.” The man said. Patton knew he could be right. He had been out here for almost an hour, or at least that was his guess. Patton numbly stood up and let the man help him through the window.
The room was indeed warm, almost too warm for Patton. He stood there unsure what to do. He was in this person’s apartment. “Is there anything that would make you more comfortable?” He asked almost sensing Patton’s unease. Patton contemplated for a moment. Would it be weird?
“Could I take a shower?” Patton asked, uncertainty in his voice. The man looked at him for a moment before seemingly realizing what he said.
“Oh yea it’s this way.” The man walked out of the room and led Patton to the bathroom. He provided Patton with some clothes, which Patton could already tell they were going to be too big for him. Something was better than nothing anyway.
The hot water felt good on his frozen body, he finished washing up long ago but he just stood in the running water for as long as he could. He actually felt human again. Patton looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. He almost didn’t recognize himself. His hair was longer than he remembered, the curls went almost down to his shoulder in their wet state rather than framing his face. He lost weight, his once chubby cheeks seemed a bit more defined. Confusion in his blue eyes obvious to even himself. Who was the he that he was remembering? How old? When had he gotten like this?
Patton shook his head as he put the towel over his head and walked out into the hallway. It would take a little while for his hair to dry and he didn’t want to get cold again. The man was sitting on the couch in the living area. He stared into space as if in deep thought. Patton hoped the man wasn’t second guessing his decision to bring him inside, to let him use the shower. The more he thought about it the more Patton began to look around the room for his clothes. He should leave. He would if he could just find his clothes.
“They’re in the wash.” The man said as he turned to look at Patton.
“Huh?” Patton was confused.
“Your clothes. They’re in the wash. I figured while you were in the shower I could clean the clothes.” He said as he stood up. He turned and made his way into the small kitchen area. “Are you hungry? I have cut deli for sandwiches or if you would like I have soup in a can.” He asked as he glanced at Patton several times but no longer than a few seconds at a time.
Why doesn’t he want to look at me? “A sandwich is fine?” Patton said as he awkwardly sat on the couch. The man nodded as he began to grab various items. Patton looked around the room. It was somewhat sparsely decorated. A few moments later then man brought Patton the food and sat down beside him on the couch. It was very reminiscent of the many times they sat on the park bench.
“Why did you let me in?” Patton said in a low whisper, he almost thought the man didn’t hear him. That was until the man shifted to look at him.
“You are not a stranger to me as much as I am a stranger to you.” He said as he looked over Patton. The way he looked at him was different than everyone in the city looked at him. Patton didn’t feel like he was being judged. Then again he had just taken a shower and he was in clean clothes but the guy didn’t seem to looking at that. Patton couldn’t place the way the man was looking at him. Was it pity? Fear? Perhaps it was concern. What reason could the man have to be concerned about Patton?
The man stood up and made his way back into the kitchen with the now empty plates. That’s when Patton saw it. A lone picture on the table beside the couch that had been hidden behind the man.
The picture was of the man but there was another person in the picture. The person had bright blue curly hair. Patton ran his fingers through his hair. He looked down at the tips of his hair between his fingers. A little faded but they were still blue. 
“Virgil?” 
@tinkslittlebelle  @teacupfulofstarshine @random-name-here @kindly-falling @xx-fandom-potato-xx​ @sylveon-lover-crazyfangirl1415 @sandersfander1820 @downrightdanny @i-do-not-dislike-fudge @not-so-innocent-bi-sander @princeanxious @sammys-ghostz @nope-not-more @moltengoldenstardust @coolerthan-a-vintagecassette @j-d-lightful @could-always-be-gayer-2 @altruistic-skittles @c4t1l1n4 @dutifullystrangequeerdom @i-read-by-lamp @thatcacidork @bigfirecreator @badluckkaren @eternal-optimists-world
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mymoodwriting · 4 years
Text
Blood Moon
Sehun x Vampire!Chanyeol
Genre: Vampire AU
Warning: Blood, Biting, Fear, Running
Words: 1.6K
Chapters:
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Epilogue
Prompt: Sehun’s life had always been uneventful and lonely. People never really stuck around, so when he finds himself kidnapped by a beautiful stranger he doesn’t know how to feel. Should he be happy that he’s wanted by someone or concerned with escaping even if no one would care he was missing. The only other issue was his kidnapper, who clearly wasn’t human.
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    When Sehun woke up he saw the table in front of him with food and snacks. He sat up, confused, he didn’t hear the door open, which he should have, it was rather loud. The food was meant to be eaten cold, so it could have been there for minutes or hours. He also noticed the snacks along with the toothbrush, toothpaste and floss.
     He grabbed the note that was also present. It was from Chanyeol, telling him he wouldn’t be visiting for a long while, so he should pace himself with the snacks and there were some cards and other trinkets to entertain himself with. The other things were for his hygiene, something he should take care of. Sehun looked at the door, curious as to what time it was, and what Chanyeol was doing that apparently would prevent him from visiting.
     He ate, food was good as always, rather strange for a captive to be treated that well. He tossed around a rubber ball he was given, wondering if this was going to be the new norm for him. Actually he wondered if anyone knew he was missing, or cared. He looked up at the ceiling, the light shining down on him, he wondered if he’d ever get to feel the sun on his skin again. When he heard the door knob turn he perked up.
 “Chanyeol?”
       The door didn’t open though, the knob just kept turning. He heard voices, then slowly crawled towards the door. He pressed his ear against the door, listening. The voices were hushed, but slowly he made out what they were saying, and that there were only two of them on the other side of the door.
 “Are you sure this is the right door?”
 “Yeah, and of course it’s locked. Chanyeol must have taken the key with him.”
 “Do you really think someone is in there?”
 “Yeah, the other day I tasted something new on his lips. And you know Chanyeol, he doesn’t just drink from anyone.”
 “You think he finally found someone?”
 “Maybe, but why is he hiding them?”
 “No idea, but when the hyungs find out, shouldn’t we tell them?”
 “Probably but we don’t know for sure.”
 “You think maybe their listening to us? Or maybe asleep?”
 “No idea.”
 “Baekhyun! Jongdae!”
       A third voice joined the conversation, more like interrupted it. At least now Sehun knew there was a minimum of four people in the house, and it seemed like he was being hidden. It gave him a bit of hope, the others would probably help him. Before he got a chance to scream for help he heard footsteps run off. He hit the door in frustration, biting his lip from the pain.
       He stayed slumped against the door for a while before retreating into his corner, back to playing with the rubber ball. He had some snacks, not super filling but kept his hunger at bay. Boredom was quick to take over, the games only doing so much. That boredom eventually lead to him reaching up to his neck, he expected to gently poke at puncture wounds but his skin was smooth. He ran to the bathroom to get a better look.
       There was no injury, his neck was fine, smooth as always. He didn’t understand, just the other day Chanyeol had dug his fangs into him and now there wasn’t a trace. Was he going crazy, maybe he was just hallucinating everything, maybe the food was tainted and he was being an idiot. The thoughts made him sick and he was quick to throw up his stomach contents.
       When he saw the red mixed in with his puke he screamed and fell back. Did he really drink blood the other night, with his other thoughts he figured maybe that wasn’t real either. He curled up in bed, wanting to sleep to help the time pass. Luckily it did, he woke up again when someone was shaking him.
 “Chanyeol?”
 “Wow you really are pretty.”
 “Hm?”
       Sehun was trying to focus, the blur of a person he could see was clearly not Chanyeol. The door was wide open, his mind immediately making him aware he had a chance to escape. He would have if he wasn’t suddenly bitten. The other person in the room had decided to pull down his shirt and bite into the crook of his neck, except it was different. He didn’t feel any pleasure, in fact it hurt like hell, it felt like he was being stabbed by a bunch of little knives.
       When the shock of the pain subsided he focused on his attacker, managing the strength to shove them off. Might have been a mistake considering he was met with another wave of pain as the fangs ripped into him a bit more. He grabbed his injury, feeling the blood on his hand.
 “You taste really good.”
 “What?”
       Sehun stared at the other boy, his face covered in blood, licking his lips. He glanced at the door again, seeing the lock had been picked. He didn’t care anymore, he needed to get out before he was attacked again. He scrambled to his feet and bolted out the door. He remembered which way Chanyeol’s room had been so surely going the opposite direction would lead him to safety.
       He ran down the hall and found himself stumbling into what seemed like the living room. He might have kept running if he wasn’t being stared at by three others. Nobody spoke, the only sound coming from his heavy breathing. He heard footsteps approaching from behind and he knew who that was, he looked back and he was right.
 “Stay away from me!”
 “What is going on! I smell blood.”
       Another voice drew Sehun’s attention and he saw a new face entered the room. They seemed perplexed by his presence, their gaze then to the boy behind him, face covered in blood. The man crossed his arms.
 “Baekhyun, what is this?”
 “Don’t look at me! He was locked up in Chanyeol’s spare room!”
 “Wait Chanyeol brought him?” Another boy asked. “Since when?”
 “I don’t know, a few days ago.”
 “Enough!”
       The other one, the one who seemed to be in charge approached Sehun. He backed up, scared about being touched by anyone.
 “Easy, I’m not going to hurt you. What’s your name?”
 “Se… Sehun…”
 “I’m Junmyeon, is it true that Chanyeol brought you here?”
 “Yes… please just let me leave. I won’t… I won’t tell anyone about this, please.”
 “I trust you won’t, but we can’t just let you go.”
 “I don’t know where I am, I don’t know you, I can easily forget names and faces. Please just let me go.”
 “Sehun, I need you to calm down okay. I…” Junmyeon caught a whiff of Sehun’s scent. “You’re still human?”
       That didn’t help Sehun relax, it made it worse, everyone else also intrigued by that revelation. The others had also slowly started to approach him, as if trying to corner a scared animal. If he kept trying to beg things would get worse, so he decided to make a run for it.
       His plan failed due to him forgetting a rather important vampire myth that was just proven true, they were fast. In the blink of an eye Sehun was pinned against Junmyeon’s chest, unable to move.
 “I’m impressed you would try that, but you can’t go just yet.”
       Sehun was forced to sit on the couch, deciding he’d stop trying to run before he irritated one of them. Junmyeon moved away his bloody hand, looking at his injury, glaring at Baekhyun for a second.
 “Jongin, get me some wipes to clean him up. And Baekhyun, start explaining yourself.”
 “I tasted something new on Chanyeol the other day, and he kept cooking, but it wasn’t for any of us. Then one day I saw him walking out of his spare room and locking the door. I figured he was hiding something.”
 “Why didn’t you say anything?”
 “I wasn’t sure what was going on and didn’t wanna accuse Chanyeol of anything.”
 “So when you broke into his room and saw a human you didn’t think to come get me?”
 “Well I-”
 “Wanted a taste first?”
 “I’m sorry… but don’t just be mad at me! I told Jongdae my theory and he didn’t tell you either!”
 “Ya, why’d you involve me!” Jongdae shouted.
 “Stop it, out of you two Chanyeol’s the one in trouble.”
       Jongin came back with the wipes, Junmyeon starting to clean up Sehun’s injury. Throughout all of this Sehun was quiet, he was afraid to speak, but he was quite grateful that they were being kind to him. The only noise he made was his stomach growling. He had thrown up most of his food for the day. His stomach made the other laugh.
 “Has Chanyeol not been feeding you properly?” Junmyeon ruffled the boys hair. “Kyungsoo can you make him something?”
 “Sure.”
         The other boy on the couch got up and disappeared to wherever the kitchen was. His neck still hurt but at least he wasn’t covered in blood. Junmyeon then had Baekhyun sit next to him, cleaning the blood off his face. When he was brought food he hesitated to eat it.
 “It’s not poisoned.” Junmyeon assured.
 “I wouldn’t ruin the food like that.” Kyungsoo added.
 “Thank… thank you.”
 ♥♥♥♥♥
       After eating Sehun explained what had happened to him and how he ended up in their house. No one seemed mad, or concerned that he had been kidnapped, which didn’t make his chances of being let go any good. He heard a door open in the distance, other voices talking, he recognized Chanyeol’s immediately. Three others walked into the living room, all stopping when they saw a new face. Chanyeol suddenly lost a lot of color.
 “Who’s that?” One of the others asked.
 “I don’t know.” Junmyeon mocked. “Care to introduce us Chanyeol?”
       The other two crossed their arms and looked at Chanyeol. He let out a laugh, but clearly no one else found the situation funny. He cut himself off swiftly, looking at Sehun nervously.
 “I can explain.”
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ABRUPT
My second “first meet” AU of SOBBE. Please enjoy❤️❤️❤️
“Happy birthday to me... happy birthday to me... happy birthday dear Robbe... happy birthday to me...”
A lonely brunette hair guy blows the candle on his birthday cake—well, it’s not actually a cake but a single chocolate cupcake he bought earlier after walking from the morning shift at the mini market. Today is his 20th birthday and Robbe IJzermans is celebrating alone, again. His friends back home and his parents are congratulating him, of course, but it doesn’t feel the same when they’re all together.
Robbe is an exchanged student from Belgium and been studying at University of Central Florida (UCF) for two years now. Time goes too fast, and there isn’t a single moment passed without him missing home and everything.
It’s only eight in the morning. Even though, his body is tired but his mind is restless. Robbe’s already know this kind of situation. There won’t be any use if he’s trying to get some sleep. So instead, after eating his cupcake, he grabs the jacket, backpack and leave his humble flat—suddenly have this idea of going to the theme park and treat himself there.
———————————
It takes more than two hours by train from his flat to Universal Studios, and when he’s finally get there, he whispers to the air, “home!” and smiles to himself as his feet enters the theme park.
Robbe ALWAYS love the theme park, any kind of it; probably the second favorite place in the world besides the local caffe near the college. His inner child screams in utter joy whenever he sees rides such as roller coaster, haunted house—basically, everything.
Wizarding World of Harry Potter is the place where he can NEVER EVER get bored. So many things to do, too many things to buy, but he always saves the rides for later. For now, he just needs to take a walk for a bit to clears his mind. Not many people comes at this hour, so it’s a good thing.
After buying a cold butterbeer, Robbe’s first plan is to see the castle and takes a selfie (if he brave enough).
“Ah, what a beauty!” Robbe says while admiring the Hogwarts Castle from afar. He knows he’s a Hufflepuff through and through but would it be so much more amazing if this school actually exists in real life? A guy can dream.
When he’s satisfy enough looking at the magical castle, Robbe continue his walking to the ice cream parlour. When he’s almost there, for the tenth time since he got there, Robbe stumbles over his own feet and.... he accidentally trips his drink over someone’s t-shirt and also knocks down theirs.
“SHIT SHIT SHIT! I AM SO SORRY! SO SORRY!” He panicks without looking at the person. “I DON’T HAVE TISSUE! SO SO SO SORRY! I STUMBLED OVER MY FEET! YOUR DRINK IS FELL TOO! I’M SO STUPID! SORRY SORRY SORRY! I WILL—“
“Dude, stop!”
Robbe’s body freeze for couple seconds after he looks up and sees a guy around his age, wearing black everything but his bleached hair is making a beautiful contrast to the appearance. This guy’s looking... handsome? Devilishly handsome? In a way; and he’s looking rather pissed.
I’m dead, Robbe thought.
“I’m so sorry. I accidentally—“
“Yeah yeah, I heard you before. You accidentally stumbled over your feet, I know. I’m not deaf. But now what’re you gonna do to fix this? This clothes is expensive. Can you buy me another one?”
Robbe is super embarrassed right now. Cursed his feet and his too-clumsy nature!
“Look, I can make everything’s right again, okay?” He finally manage to find his voice and courage. “I can wash your t-shirt, even your jeans and buy you another drink. But please, forgive me! I’m sorry!”
Not long after, the bleached hair guy snorts and laughs loud; he’s too loud, almost everyone looking at them now.
“OH MY GOD, YOU SHOULD SEE YOUR FACE! YOU LOOK TERRIFIED. SMILE A LITTLE, DUDE! IT WAS JUST A JOKE!”
“W-what?” Robbe asks, genuinely confused.
“This fucking t-shirt isn’t expensive,” the bleached hair guy says after he finally manages to calm himself from laughter. “In fact, I wanted to burn it.”
“But why? It’s nice.”
“Nope, you should buy me a cup of stracciatella ice cream then I’ll talk.”
Robbe can’t believe this weird guy; a total stranger, a little bit bossy but also exciting at the same time can stunned him easily. Feels like there’s an invisible sign above his head that speaks “DANGER!” but to hell with this—it’s still his birthday and no danger will be happened at the theme park, as far as he knows.
“Yeah, okay.” Robbe says as he follows the handsome stranger to the ice cream parlour.
Robbe almost trips when the bleached guy abruptly dead-stop in front of him.
“What is it?”
“Almost forgot,” he says, as he turns around and offers his hand. “Sander, 22, Juilliard student.”
Robbe takes Sander’s hand. It feels warm and strong in his, “Robbe, 20, exchanged student at University of Central Florida.”
Sander smirks, letting go the handshake, “cool. Come on, then!”
After they buy some ice creams and eat them on the spot, both agree to ride a Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey after this.
While they walking side by side, Robbe says, “now that I’m finally bought you an ice cream, mind to tell why you wanted to burn your clothes?”
Sander doesn’t answer for a minute or two. But when they walking pass the souvenir shop and Robbe’s being a little distracted by the wizard hat in the window, Sander says.
“Because my girlfriend gave it to me,” then he adds. “Well, an ex now.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Nah, don’t be,” Sander shakes his head. His voice is surprisingly calm and playful still. “She was cheating on me. Here, at this very park.”
“ARE YOU FOR REAL?!” Robbe absentmindedly yell but quickly compose himself. “I mean, what? Here? That’s not possible!”
“But it IS possible, Robbe.”
“I’m sorry...”
“Stop saying that!” Sander giggles. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m glad I could finally get rid of her!”
“Can we... can we just sit somewhere and talk?”
Robbe doesn’t know where he gets the idea but one thing for sure, he also have the need to pour his heart out too to this guy. They may just know each other less than 2 hours, but... don’t know, but Robbe’s already trust Sander; something that never happen with anybody else, ever. And mostly, he feels that Sander need someone to talk to, even though his exterior speak otherwise.
“Because it’s you, I’ll do it.”
Wait, what? What does it mean because it’s me? Robbe thought, feeling bewildered but doesn’t mind.
“Before I continue,” Sander says after they finally sit at the cafetaria. It’s so crowded now, that they have to wait for almost 15 minutes to get a seat. “Do you think I’m a bad person for saying those things?”
“About?”
“That I’m happy for getting rid of her.”
Robbe shakes his head and smiling softly, “not at all. I swear.”
“Okay, then,” Sander sighs in relief. “We’ve been together for nearly a year now. Ups and downs, of course. But never in my life, even for a second that I thought she’d cheated on me,” he sips his iced-tea before continuing. “Like I said before, I’m a Juilliard student, that’s in New York and she’s in USF, which means we had a long distance relationship. You can still keep up, right?”
Robbe nods, not saying anything.
“Long story short, I just got here yesterday and we’re supposed to have fun today blablabla... then when I came back from the restroom, she was supposed to wait for me near the giant globe but she was nowhere to be seen. Was looking for her for nearly half an hour when I accidentally saw her french-kissed this asshole near the haunted house. Well, I took a pic of them, sent her that and said ‘wow! A public porn!’. She still had the audacity to sent “I CAN EXPLAIN, OK?!” but I blocked her number after that. The end. Happily ever after.”
“Wow...”
Sander gives him a mocking snorts, “that’s it? Just wow? What’s wow about that?”
“Um, sorry. No, of course it’s not a wow. Not that kind of wow. It’s just,” Robbe takes a deep breath to calm himself. Damn this nervousness! “I can’t believe someone actually did that. Cheating and everything.”
Sander lets a huff and rolls his eyes, “but some people could. But enough about me. Let’s talk about you.”
Robbe is a bit perplexed by the sudden change of topic, “me?”
Sander smirks while pierce his stares at him, “only you.”
Why does everything he said does something weird to my heart and stomach??? Robbe thought with annoyance.
“What do you wanna know, then? Ask away!”
“Why are you here alone?”
“Because I want to.”
“Give me a better answer, Robbe.” Sander mocks.
Robbe gulps. He plays his thumbs as self-assurance that what he’s going to say next isn’t that embarrassing.
“Well, today’s actually my birthday and I’m celebrating alone for 2 years now. I’m from Belgium, by the way. I always miss it and my friends.”
Looks like there’s only single information that Sander catch because he says “happy birthday” without making any comment about other things.
After saying that, he smiles as his hand ruffling Robbe’s hair. This gesture make Robbe’s heart beats even faster than before. But it’s only a friendly gesture, right? Like what big brother usually do to his little brother? Or as a friend. Right? No matter what is, he likes it too much to care.
“Thanks.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
Robbe laughs at this, “no.”
“Boyfriend?”
“No but I’d love to.”
Sander’s green eyes widen, “so, you’re a...”
“Gay, yep!”
“Good for you,” Sander grins. “But did you realise that you just come out to a stranger?”
“You’re not a stranger anymore,” Robbe mumbles shyly as he holds his glass tighter. “I trust you, Sander.”
Both are silent for few minutes before Sander taking off a necklace around his neck and place in Robbe’s palm. It’s a gold necklace with a mini violin as the pendant.
“Yes?” Robbe asks, utterly confused. His brain’s momentarily has stopped working when their hands touch once again, but this time they linger.
“This is your present.”
“For what?”
“For your birthday, dummy!” Sander says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“No, Sander. I can’t! This is too expensive!” Robbe yelps but the bleached hair guy holds his hand even tighter.
“I need you to keep it!” He demands, “my mom gave it to me for my 4th birthday. It’s for a good luck and now it’s yours.”
“But—”
“I gave it to you, okay? Keep it,” Sander cuts him. “Or if you still insist, give it back to me when we meet again next time.”
“What?”
“I’m having a solo concert at Juilliard in two months. Would you be there?”
At this point, Robbe can never say no to him. Probably ever. He doesn’t know the reason why, but he’s certain that this sudden friendship will turn into something more. Hopefully. God, is he already whipped for someone he just met today?
“Are you gonna play a violin?”
“Yes,” Sander beams. “So? Would you?”
“I’d love to.”
“You promise?”
It’s true that they just met, it’s true that both doesn’t know each other that well yet, it’s true that this is quite abrupt but who would’ve thought, behind Sander’s devil-may-cry attitude, there’s an innocent and child-like insecurity? And Robbe is more than happy to get to know more about this special person.
This time, Robbe place his hand on top of Sander’s hand and whisper gently, “I promise.”
He isn’t sure how it’s gonna be, where it’s gonna lead but just them being like this—it’s more than enough. It left unsaid, but both already understand.
And that’s all that really matters.
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viktor-noctis · 3 years
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The Two Faces of Dr. Jekyll McSh*tFace
This is my review for the film: The Two Faces of Dr. Jekyll McShitFace.
Enjoy.
Tagging @christopherleefan because I think you might enjoy this? Also, I wrote a fic for Taste of Fear (or Scream of Fear for us Americans), and you can expect one for this film as well.
Pre-face: Okay, okay……………���……………… Let me compose myself.
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Alright, hit the play button.
London 1874 – I paused just to be sure this was the actual date when the book was written.
It was originally published in 1886.
We’re off to a roaring start.
Ew. Children.
Playing in a garden, yep, this is about what I remember.
Little boy shoves girl’s flowers to the ground, and McShitFace talks about “dumb human animals” when referring to children. We agree on that, at least.
“Play out when they cannot speak out.” Jekyll McShitFace suggests they’ve mentally blocked the ability to speak, due to the fact that they are letting another part of them be free to express itself…. What a load of garbage.
You resigned? Here I thought they fired you for being a creep. The fact that Ernst believes he really is a genius makes me want to punch something.
They’ve been married for six years??
No servants, no friends, and Jekyll has cut all professional ties to study the mind… Like a madman. Yeah, I can see Kitty hating this.
Beyond Good and Evil? Beyond the reach of society?
“A very dangerous man, my friend.” No shit, Ernst. Jekyll is suggesting the ‘higher man’ is the one within, while Ernst suggests that the weaker man maybe the ‘evil’ one. Or what we deem ‘evil’. Jekyll, like some, has come to some crackpot conclusion that by drawing out the ‘evil’ man, the ‘weaker’ man within him, that he can isolate and destroy him… Or something to that effect.
Jekyll never answers Ernst when he asks if he’s used it on anything other than a monkey and I find that telling.
Paul is here. Ernst is leaving.
Jekyll is quite charitable to Paul, if nothing else, and Kitty is putting up a marvelous front. Kitty even tries to get him to spend time with her here, but I have a feeling she knows where this is going. She’s probably done this a million times. This is another for the till.
I can tell Kitty is tired of this. Jekyll spends night and day in the lab. All the time. Yeah, that’d wear on most women. Considering the time period, this is all very strange. Then again, this is a ‘Strange Case’, or it was supposed to be.
Kitty telling him about Jekyll shouting to himself in his room, along with a strange voice that wasn’t his own, for an entire night… “Married to a man of great talent.” Ernst, my dude…
Kitty’s asking if he is insane enough to be sent away. Ernst says he isn’t: “we must both try to help him.” Right.
Christopher Lee! Damnit, he’s so tall. How tall is this actress?
They’re so cute. Terrible, but cute.
The top of her head reaches his nose or so. He’s a damn good kisser…
Kitty looks lovely in blue.
And is an extrovert.
Jekyll is an introvert.
Still hate him.
Don’t bash the girl for liking to go out. Or ask her to: “take the evening off”.
“I need you tonight, Kitty. Stay.” That’s not creepy. After years of being ignored, that’s not creepy in the slightest.
Okay, this might be just me, but… I see Kitty’s perspective. I sort of see Jekyll’s? It’s a grey area. I’ve paused it to explain my reasoning –
Kitty, is an extrovert, as I’ve stated. She gets her energy from going out, being around people, and having a good time. That’s great. Good for her, you have fun girl, and take your boytoy (he really is, as often as he gets in money trouble) with you. Jekyll is decidedly not. To say they are incompatible would be an understatement.
Kitty is the type of woman who glows under attention, who craves it from both her partner and others. But mostly, her partner. Enter Paul, who’s proven to be attached to her mostly through money, but there’s so much more there. Again, I love these two, because they’re so terribly flawed, but so clearly in love.
Jekyll, meanwhile, cut all attachment to “live like a hermit in the center of London”. Ernst’s words straight from the beginning of the film. I bet you Kitty was stifled, for years, before Paul came along. Now, not much is revealed of the how Jekyll became friends with him, when he did, or even why he did, but I want to bet it was during University or something. That seems the most likely theory, given Jekyll’s nature.
The Jekyll side is a bit more convoluted. Again, I don’t think Kitty is being unfair here. There’s no telling how long she stayed lonely, cooped up in that house (reference back to when Ernst talked about no friends, no company, and no servants), and was just… bored, sad, and upset.
Ernst even mentioned the house being ‘in ruins’.
She calls him selfish for making it such an issue. I get the feeling he sort of deserves it. Also, she’s in love with Paul now, so that adds another layer to their relationship not working and being incredibly strained.
“I’m not going to insult my friends for the sake of your whims.” Is what her argument amounted to. Again, the movie is making her sound like the selfish one, but you really have to take into account the history, nature, and aspects of each character. In doing so, I don’t really think she is. I think she’s in love with another man, bound to a farce of a marriage, and is doing the best she can by not staying near her creepy husband.
And yep, human experimentation time.
Yeah, go ahead McShitFace, sit at your desk and wait to become The Literal Worst.
Party time. I’m shuddering. Too. Many. People. Ew.
They’re both terrible.
I love them.
Awful.
Paul complains of being bored, and yet she is bored doing the things he likes. They jab and jibe. He looks at another woman. They jab and jibe some more.
They’re bickering like they’re already married.
Get a room.
Terminate their relationship?
They bring up their attachment, again, always with the money. Kitty likes a man free of shame, Paul thinks he might lose her to a man who had even less. Hahahaha. You nerds. You’re in too deep and you both know it.
The Literal Worst has arrived. And he’s uglier than ever.
The Sphinx? That’s the name of this trash heap ballroom?
Hyde looks like a Tool. Barely two minutes on screen and he’s got the Creep Smirk going.
Hoes do not stand together, I see.
Paul and Kitty smiling at each other, having a grand old time. I love them.
Hyde showing his true colors already, by eyeing up Kitty, while dancing with another girl (though I’m pretty sure she’s a prostitute. Or just a woman who gets around, living off other men’s money). Wow, he also says some not-so-nice things to her before heading after Paul and Kitty, who’s having a hell of a time. Paul can also be a jackass –
“Don’t drink too much tonight, my darling.” She says it with such tenderness, while taking the glass from his hand.
“Cunning little kitty cat. Rather a dull husband than a drunken lover, eh?” Paul’s already slurring. He’s entered cad mode. Feel free to kick him to the curve, my dear. He deserves to nurse his hangover by himself.
She just looks disappointed.
Kitty’s creep alert is going off. Listen to it, honey. Run. Run, far away.
She’s trying to take Paul home.
Then going to dance with Hyde. Fuck. Kitty, listen to your Creep Radar.
Friendship with Kitty? Honey. No. Run. “Can I trust you?”
?? Kitty. No. Do not trust the creep.
Prostitute girl is back, claiming Hyde tried to force her, and some dude wants recompense. Kitty just wants to go home. Paul refuses to leave, to help Hyde.
Has common sense become a commodity that only Kitty is buying??
“Give the lady a few sovereigns, and there’ll be no trouble.” Yeah, sounds like a prostitute. Kitty bids them all goodnight. Paul looks sad to see her go. Should have thought about that before you acted the bastard.
Hyde tells them to go to hell and take the trollop with him. Dude dives at them, Paul knocks him out… And Hyde keeps hitting him. Paul stops him, telling him not to kill him, and then asks him if he’s ill.
“Let me alone, Jekyll. Let me alone.” Dumbass. Jekyll voice coming out of Hyde. That’s not creepy. Paul looks amused by the creep show. Hyde leaves the place, screaming, and being weird.
Lots of voice changing. This actor is actually really good. Jekyll realizes what he did, because Hyde says: “I will be back, Jekyll. I will return.”
Jekyll: “Never. Never.”
So he knows this was a bad idea?
Goes into Kitty’s room, whose reading, and she starts talking about her ‘party’. She wants to go to sleep. Jekyll still comes closer, being a creep. Creep Radar is blaring.
“I need you, Kitty. I need you desperately.” And he comes in, trying to kiss at her, mouthing at her neck. Like a creep. I know this is a parallel to later in the film (yeah, it’s terrible), when Hyde is in control, but I still hate this.
I had to pause during the next scene to do a deep character analysis –
Kitty pushes him off, telling him she’s tired, and even says “please”. As if she should have to beg him to keep his damn creep hands to himself. He still has a wild, crazy look in his eye, and asks: “What are you really like, Kitty?”
“I’m your wife, that’s all I am.” She answers it with such evenness, barely disturbed, and it reminds me of what Paul said to her –
“From perfect wife to perfect mistress, and back again to perfect wife.”
This movie has a lot to do with the masks we wear. We change them, depending on who we’re talking to: family, friends, strangers, lovers, etc. All the different relationships we have require a mask, shadowing the core of who we are, because letting someone see everything of ourselves is too terrifying to consider. We don’t show our true selves out of fear, pride, or some other convoluted mixture of emotions.
However, every mask has a basis, a template of origin.
I feel as if, at some point, Kitty really did love Jekyll. She must have. She married him not for his intelligence, not for his money, but because she genuinely loved him. Kitty loves too deeply, too strongly, and has all the hallmarks of a woman who has been burned by that depth of attachment.
“It’s my fault, a woman who shows her feelings always loses dignity.” Kitty says this during the first bit of the dance she has with Paul, which reveals so much of her character. She doesn’t look at him when she says it, the pain of her admittance is too much, and she shies away from anyone witnessing it. Even Paul.
Her relationship with Paul is strained right now. It’s weird. It seems like neither of them knows where it’s going, too afraid to continue, but even more horrified by the prospect of letting the other go.
When speaking of breaking their ‘arrangement’ (look up ‘affair’ in the dictionary), Kitty suggested Paul wouldn’t be able to get along financially without her. Paul rebuffed her, saying that Jekyll and he had been friends for years, and she was just his dutiful wife… despising him.
There’s an ease between them that feels years old, yet I doubt it was from the get-go of hers and Jekyll’s marriage. No, she probably did hate him quite a bit, in the beginning. But there’s a thin line between love and hate, one that can be crossed with loneliness. I like to think it was physical at first, a build up of tension between a woman caged in a house, and watching this man go out and spend her husband’s money.
It was probably Paul who convinced her to come out with him one evening. Fuck it. Jekyll wants to stay in his lab all night? Well, why should you stay too? Kitty probably said no at first. Why would she go out with this smarmy bastard, who gambles, who sleeps with anything that has legs, and drinks himself silly? But then there’s the wanting, the listening to her husband tinker away, watching life go by without her…
She probably went to Jekyll. She tried to talk to him, have dinner with her in the house that night. Without any servants, she’s learned to cook. He makes a point of trying to be nice but talks about his work… Always his work. She asks him to kiss her, as if that’s something she should have to nearly beg for. And what did he do? On the verge of some great breakthrough?
“Not right now, Kitty. I’m busy.”
Kitty, who is strong, vibrant, and beautiful, is not enough to stir a man from the wake of progress. From pride.
Humiliation and defeat, a loathing that breaks through love, stuffs her chest and nearly throttles her on the spot. Retreating, glassy eyed to her room. She probably cried, mourning her broken heart.
After that, she demands to go with Paul.
There’s probably a touch of shock, then a knowing smirk. He’s probably seen lots of women with husbands who ignore them, falling into his kind of life, dancing and drinking and laughing their nights away.
He’s not ready for this one.
Alright, hitting play again –
“But the woman inside of you, is that woman my wife?”
No. No, she’s not. She belongs with Paul.
Stop shaking her. She’s right. Get out.
Take your: “Who am I?”s and get the fuck out.
Cut to Paul being a cad again. Ugh. Go home to Kitty, you absolute tool bag.
He and Hyde are sitting at a table in The Sphinx with two bimbos. Wonderful.
Hyde is a creep. I will say that no less than ten times in this review. I probably already have.
The fuck is this?
They’re doing something weird.
Really weird.
A snake charmer dance.
Am I to assume they wish us to believe that snake is venomous?
Okay, to be fair, all snakes and spiders are venomous, but the potency of their venom varies in such a way that they effect most human bodies on different levels. I say ‘most’ because you can be allergic to something, and receive a far more harrowing experience than 98% of the population.
However, that does not excuse the fact that the creature in question is a ball python and is therefore basically harmless. Minus some swelling and bruising.
I had to pause to write that, okay, playing again –
Yeah, this poor animal is being abused by being forced into a ‘sensual dance’ with this woman. ‘Tigress’, they call her, kill me now. Paul says she’s exclusive to the elite. Kill me twice over. This dance is the worst. That poor snake is confused.
Paul is looking worriedly at Hyde as he stares, transfixed, at this woman. Dude, he wants to get bitch slapped, let him.
Christopher Lee’s eyebrows are doing things to me. Paul is the real eye candy in this shit show.
UGHASDKFJASDKFNAMSDKFJNASDKF
Jkljasdfklajsdklfansdkfnj
Klasjeirkmaskdfnjkasdjf
Klasdmfnkasndf
JKLASJDKLFNASKLDFNJ
UGH
SHE
SHE PUT
THE SNAAEK
HEAD
IN
MOTUH
WHY? WHY? WHY would –
WOULD uuo –
That poor animal.
Tell me that was fake.
She did not really put that poor creature’s head in her mouth.
This is abuse.
Not to mention, really gross. Salmonella, and a million other diseases could potentially exist on the skin of a reptile. Do not handle reptiles and then touch your face, or eat, or put any part of their body inside your mouth. Wash hands after handling, thank you.
Disgusting.
And people are clapping. And cheering.
Is this what passes for ‘exotic’ in the 1700s????
Maybe it’s my modern cynicism, but I am not impressed. I am shuddering in revulsion.
Mostly because of the snake in mouth bit.
Gods.
End me.
I’m about to shriek.
“Forget it, dear boy. She’s not in the prep-school class. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
Paul. Paul.
Have you ever considered:
She’s blind.
You’re gorgeous.
And you have a gorgeous woman waiting on you at home.
Why do you bother with the bimbos?
Girl on the right is pretty, okay, she’s like… an 8. Chick on the left is… also pretty, but like a 7.
Kitty is a damn 16, she blows them out of the water. There is no competition. When you’ve already had it all, why bother even looking at anything less? She gets bumped up to a 30 for the fact that she has a brain, she snarks, she jabs with the best of them, and is not afraid to leave you to your well-deserved hangover.
I will fight for Kitty’s honor.
Paul. I’m about to throw down.
He calls the dancer over – Maria – and I can already tell he’s going to –
Yep. Be a bastard.
“She only uses Christian names in bed.”
He deserved that drink to the face.
Even Hyde looks surprised. Then impressed.
Pft – HA! I have to quote this:
“Well, ladies, it seems that I must entertain you both.” He says, while soaked with what one can assume is scotch. “I trust that you will not be too disappointed.” Girl on the right looks like she expects to be disappointed. Ms. Left has her game face on.
“Oh, we’ll just have to manage.” Left is already up and at it.
“Somehow or other.” Right is playing along for now.
“Thank you for your confidence.” Paul’s reply does not sound confident in the slightest. He follows them through a curtain doorway. I’d say, ‘poor bastard’, but he doesn’t deserve my sympathy right now.
Hyde is creeping on Maria now.
“Keep away from him, he is dangerous.”
Yeah. To medium sized rodents.
Actually, considering Hyde is nothing more than a big, smelly, greasy, slimy rat –
Nah, wouldn’t want to give the poor thing indigestion.
“Your friend talked to me like a common whore.”
I assumed you two knew each other? I don’t know, they are weird and vague on that. Alan says he’s tried, then claims what names she uses in bed, and she did throw the drink on him afterwards. I’ve no idea.
I will give this to Hyde: He is a smooth talker. He is also, however, still a bastard.
And the makeup they used on this actress is not flattering at all. I’ve seen pictures of her, and she was beautiful. They somehow made her look hideous. ‘Impertinent’ is a word, though not quite the one I would use for this piece of garbage.
I love putting subtitles on. They’re so dumb.
(Soft sensual music) my ass.
Of course they shag. Why wouldn’t they?
She’s given him an in, now… “You do not buy, you do not beg.” A man who ‘takes’. No, do not give him that.
“A nice, cold wife.” I’m so furious.
They do have a servant! An old woman. Probably a concession after years.
“Mr. Hyde.” Creep.
‘Nanny’.
“Lately, this house has become unused to visitors.”
“The wife of a recluse…”
Trying to sweet talk a woman in love will not go over well for you.
Paul’s??? Paul’s friendship. What a save.
“The question of trespass hardly arises. Mr. Allen has no property rights in me.”
And as for Henry: “Henry leads his own life. He doesn’t seek my approval, and I don’t seek his. Is that wrong?”
OOOOOOFFFFF.
Sweet talk till you talk like that.
“To the boredom of being a neglected wife, and the humiliation of being a rejected mistress.”
It almost felt like she was into the flirting till he said that, but I still get the feeling she wouldn’t have slept with him. You can enjoy flirting, some people do it for a living, but not the act that comes after. As I said before, Kitty wears many masks. This one is short-lived. Hyde has insulted her, and the change in her demeanor is like a switch.
Kitty loves too deeply, to be reminded of her first failing, and the possibility of her loss of Paul is a kick in the teeth. Is she not worth loving? Is science, money, knowledge, other women – is she just no match? Can she have nothing out of this?
“I must say, you are honest. A trifle obvious, perhaps, but honest.” And too close to the surface, too close to the proverbial nail. Kitty is genuinely afraid of losing Paul, and it shows. She’s clinging onto something she feels she can’t hold onto, whether for her already damaged pride or because she doesn’t want to be hurt again. Her face only really started to shift when he said mistress.
“My great affair has already begun.” She’s pulling herself so easily from his arms. He talks about great love since he felt her in his arms, and she just turns away with this casual walk of a knowing woman.
“It was well advanced before ever you appeared on the scene.” She looks almost proud, though there’s still this edge to her. She expects it to crash and burn. She’s just waiting for it.
“I wonder what is the special quality in a man as weak, unscrupulous, and utterly unreliable as Paul Allen?” This really bothers him. Hyde is essentially Jekyll unchained, a copy of the inner, dark urges of one man laid bare, and given free run of the place… And he’s a total rat bastard.
And Kitty is smiling. Kitty is overjoyed.
“I don’t question your description, Mr. Hyde.” She’s radiating with delight. Even that description of Paul in all his awful glory stirs nothing but happiness in her.
“Well then, but why…” And he’s reaching for her, stroking his fingers over her back. It’s this odd mimicry of how Jekyll tried to hold her that night. Ugh.
“I merely happen to love him.” Yes! SHE SAID IT!
“Love? Love is an idiocy!” And she’s laughing again. I’m beginning to believe Kitty uses laughter to cover her pain. Hyde/Jekyll McShitFace uses rage.
“An idiocy of mine, perhaps, but a fact.” Then we get this beautiful close up of her face, the vindication with which she says it has me living –
“I love Paul Allen.” Love, you must be so blind and so wonderful.
(Ominous music). As Hyde descends back to his basement to turn back into Jekyll. Back to the sewer, your garbage monster.
Ernst is here. Okay, something weird is happening again. Jekyll has a heightened metabolism. Probably from sustaining two rat bastards instead of one. I’ve no idea how much time has elapsed, but quite a bit I’m guessing. A week? A month? Another year? Nah, probably more like a week or so.
Jekyll’s life is “burning out at a much faster rate.”
Kitty is fed up with being Paul’s ‘bank clerk’. Yeah, let’s bring Henry into this. ‘Let him deal with life’s little problems and leave us its gaiety’? You are a cad. Why do you love him again, Kitty? You can do better.
She’s sick of being used.
“How can you talk of our love in this way?” Love? Is this the first time you bring it up to her? While asking for money? Aklsjdfkasjdf
Men are annoying.
“You hypocrite!” Thank you.
Debts of honor, my pale ass.
He’s going to Henry.
Ernst knows he’s addicted to something. He says it’s more damning, whatever it is.
At least Paul is honest. Jekyll is being cold to him now. He knows about him and Kitty now. He goes back to his work desk. ‘Going away’. Right. Run.
Paul gets nothing. Notes something must be wrong with him.
Kitty is worried about Paul now.
And fuck – Jekyll is giving full power of his shit to Hyde. His estate, his money, his assets, everything goes to Hyde. This happened in the book, of course, but this completely cuts Kitty off as well.
Also, he even says he’s using Hyde to ‘learn all he can’. You pretty much know it all. Kitty, your wife, is in love with your ‘friend’, Paul. It’s not that hard. You’ve effectively been gaslighting them from the beginning.
“For do I want to return to a life of frustrated isolation and loveless misery?”
I.
I have…
So many problems with this statement alone.
You left your wife, even said it yourself, neglected. For years. So much so, that she’s alone as well. Of course she searched for something beyond you, when you chose to isolate yourself first… And you know what? I’m happy for Kitty, she found something, someone to love and love her in return. Is it perfect? No, but –
Anything and everything can be traced back to you, you sorry sack of literal shit. I’m about to lose it. He’s reaping what he’s sewn, and now he’s trying to escape it.
I’m so pissed off.
He drinks more stuff. Great. The return of The Literal Worst is upon us.
Wow… Never heard Christopher Lee say that before –
“Damn bad luck you’ve been having, I hear, Allen, old man.” Some man comments on the state of Paul’s life, which has gone to hell in a handbasket.
“Damn bad luck.” Paul’s agreement seems to taste as bad as the cigarette he’s smoking. I wonder how many are his, in that overflowing mound of ash and stumps, at the center of the table.
“Oh, well, luck’s a bitch, old boy.” Not sure that was a saying yet, but maybe this is the one that starts the trend.
“Oh, I shouldn’t think so.” Paul looking like he’d like to swallow down the rest of the decanter on the table, with Hyde being the creep that just walked in. “I’ve always had the best possible luck with bitches.”
I just about spit my tea. Not even kidding.
“Almost always, anyway.”
You’re terrible. Kitty should leave without either of you.
How is this review over 4K words? Who’s still reading this?
“Women aren’t a weakness they’re a recurrent necessity.” Paul. Paul. What are you doing?
‘Oldest mistress’.
Paul. You’re awful with money and it’s obvious.
They’re going to go out on the town. Like bastards. Hyde is The Literal Worst.
Snap shots of London’s underbelly during the 1700s… Brawling, lots of drinking and bad singing, and… smoking? Opium? Hooka? Who the fuck knows anymore.
Paul’s out. Hyde is doing the 100-yard Creep Stare.
Paul is out making debts again. ‘Honorable’ ones, at least.
Now he’s out of ideas. It’s been a week. He spent all that money – 5,000 in a week. Ouch. “But you, are a fool.” We agree on that. That is the only thing Hyde, and I will ever agree on.
“And I’ll try Kitty.”
Ha.
Haha.
You can see the wheels turning unpleasantly in Paul’s head. His brow is doing that furrowed thing when he’s confused.
“What the devil do you mean, Hyde?” You know what he means, you just don’t want him to go on. You’re hoping he doesn’t mean what you think he means.
“Well, that should be simple enough for even you to understand.” Again, insulting people while mixing in kind words, though his next ones are far from kind: “I am telling you to obtain your mistress for me.”
Paul is rising out of his chair. His brow is still doing that furrowed thing, but it has gotten even deeper. The rage is coming, a wave that was slow to foam, but quick to rise.
“You unspeakable devil.” There’s still some disbelief, but there’s no denying the shock.
Hyde is doing the creep laugh with a – “How very amusing.” Now you can see the anger, it’s chiseling its way into his features, hard and sharp.
“Paul Allen, breaker of every law in the moral code, is shocked into morality.”
Full blown: I’d punch the ever-living hell out of you. I’m about to.
“You vile, disgusting degenerate.” His lips are quivering. He’s barely holding it together.
“Be rational, my friend.” You’re pushing him far beyond ‘rational’. “I’m asking for the temporary loan of a proven adulteress, of whom you yourself have grown somewhat tired.”
First of all: fuck you. Second of all: Kitty already said he has no property rights to her.
“You go back to hell!” Paul. Punch. Him.
Oh… Wait… Yeah, he’d probably get in trouble for that. And then be sent to jail. And I doubt he wants to be in there while Kitty is out here with this lunatic. Yeah, running out before you lose it seems wise.
Still should have throttled him a bit.
Now what is The Literal Worst doing? Going back to the house…
And sneaking into Kitty’s room. You creep. I’ve never wished to jump through a television screen more.
They only have one servant, ‘Nanny’, is her name.
He’s blackmailing her. With Paul’s notes. Fuck. ‘Buy him back’.
She’s laughing. Yes, that is Kitty’s response to being uncomfortable.
“You utterly repel me.” YES! Go girl! She laughs as he storms out, tossing the notes away. Then she closes and locks the door, pressing her back to it. She was probably more than a little terrified.
Hyde assaults a homeless man, shoving him down, and steps over him. That was in the book… Then back to some cesspit that Paul showed him.
There’s something weird going on here with Hyde and this girl.
Cut to Kitty and Paul snuggling. And kissing. This is the quality content I came for. He’s wearing the same shirt from earlier… Which means he probably took a good long walk, had a small conniption, and then went straight to her.
“Why does love make us behave so hatefully to one another?” Yeah, well, Paul has been the terrible one here.
“Because we’re cowards, my darling. We want everything.” I’m not sure what Paul’s deal is, why he is the way he is… He could just be an ivy league guy who grew up, not knowing how to handle money, he might not come with as much baggage as the rest of them.
Why can’t they just be happy and cute?
Go away? Start a new life? Yeah, do that.
Right now.
Leave.
Before Jekyll McShitFace gets back.
Ah, they planned to mug Hyde, using the girl as a means to dupe him. Seems about right. Also deserved.
Ah, Kitty is leaving Jekyll. About bloody time. Also, the wrong time, considering the whole Hyde business.
Jekyll has destroyed his drugs, though admits that Hyde’s grip is too powerful. Right. As if Ernst didn’t warn you it was an addiction. “No degeneracy is low enough to satisfy him.” You mean you, right? Because, he is, after all, you.
The kids are back in the garden. This can only end well.
Oh, they’re leaving. Good…
Paul and Kitty are making out again. Good for them.
Jekyll shoved a kid. Bad for him.
Same little girl who’s always trying to give him flowers. Yeah, he’s losing it. Rushing back into lab to pen a last will and testament one can hope –
Nope, no such luck.
‘Exorcise him’. Right.
Handwriting switch. Interesting.
Paul admitting to Kitty he’s in trouble with Hyde.
If looks could kill.
Hyde lures them with an invitation from Jekyll, about their last evening together being ‘gay’.
Kitty doesn’t want to go, she’s frightened. Listen to your gut.
Paul wants to stay, because they think he’ll settle. Kitty agrees.
Fuck.
Cabaret. Ugh.
Someone get me out of here. Lots of underwear. This is painful.
Hyde making plans to meet with Maria before meeting with Paul and Kitty, who’s dressed for a funeral. Paul. Don’t. Go. Of course, he does.
Up to Maria’s room. Piss it.
More cabaret. I’ll hand it to you ladies; you can cartwheel and front flip. That is impressive. Also, I’m completely serious, because the amount of muscles it takes to do that are insane. Flexibility is also key. Congrats ladies.
Paul meets with Hyde.
“Surely we can keep Kitty out of this.” He knows something’s up and didn’t want to involve her. Smart, but also stupid.
“Hardly.” Hyde’s reply sets my teeth on edge.
Paul. Don’t go into that room. To meet him in private. Fuck me. Backwards. Paul.
A ball python. How dangerous. Paul. There’s a table right there. Squish the fucker. I mean, I’m against animal cruelty, but in the case of the story, that thing is supposed to be deadly. Squish. Squish. Otherwise, leave him the fudge alone and he’ll leave you alone.
Kitty… Don’t go with the creepy man. Listen to your Creep Radar.
Paul’s dead. Kitty doesn’t deserve this. Don’t –
I hate this. I hate this. Paul is literally dead in the other room.
I’m writing so much fix-it fic for this, you won’t believe.
This review is 18 pages long. If you’ve made it this far, may the gods have mercy on you, because my wrath at this point is endless.
Maria is in Jekyll’s house. He told her to go back to that house, put on Kitty’s clothes –
“The pattern of justice is complete.”
Rot. In. Hell.
Paul and Kitty deserved better. They deserved each other.
Kitty waking up, gods’ I hate this. She’s a wreck. Her hair, her clothes… You can tell she’s about to be sick. She’s barely holding it together. There’s a fucking note… A note leading her to the snake… She finds Paul dead. She’s already shellshocked. Out onto the balcony…
“Paul.” Her last word.
She plummets over the balcony, through the glass roof, and –
Cut to Maria saying: “I love you Edward.”
“I can’t love.” We can agree on two things. Those two things.
“I must be free.” Right before murdering Maria.
Jekyll finally takes back over, rightfully horrified, and runs back to his lab. With three corpses under his belt.
What an interesting mirror effect…
“Why must you destroy?”
“I must be free.”
Then we go back-and-forth, about who murdered, who revenged, and who was wronged. They weren’t in Hyde’s way, but Jekyll was. He doesn’t ‘feel’. Yeah, right…
Hyde is every dark, terrible impulse Jekyll has had, given life and form. His desire to be free, to run rampant, has been a desire of Jekyll’s since the beginning. Free the beast so he could kill it… Then proceeded to twist it to gaslight his wife, his friend, and everyone else. He was living a life, a lie, a sham. The desire for freedom from persecution for our desires, to be allowed to do what we want, when we want, without judgement has been an overarching theme in all of society. People are persecuted for what pronouns they want to use, for how they eat, how they dress, how they talk –
However, because Hyde is merely a reflection, one can assume his desire for freedom is mirrored in Jekyll’s continued desire for the same. Jekyll wants to continue to exist, so Hyde must desire to exist in turn. He’s still composed completely of Jekyll’s desires.
He says he doesn’t feel, yet there is a desperation, a fear in his voice when he says: “You must lose, Jekyll.” Because he’s afraid he won’t. He’s horrified by the idea of being trapped forever, of their relation being found out…
Cut to Inspector being on the case at The Sphinx.
Wow, a lady in gentleman’s clothing runs The Sphinx. Nice.
Jekyll trying to leave a letter to Ernst. Yeah, that’ll go over well. He calls a street cleaner over to take his note to Ernst, but of course, Hyde has to upset that plan.
Again, I give props to the actor for the massive amount of voice switching, and playing the ‘tortured’ scientist, and the King of the Creeps.
Hyde is about to kill this street cleaner. Mate, why did you come into this guy’s house to randomly move something for him? He shoots him in the back, of course…
The Inspector arrives! Not in time…
Hyde is about to torch the place. Of course he is.
He puts up a performance for the police, saying Jekyll is nuts… Whole place is on fire, with street cleaner acting as a sub-in for the body of Jekyll.
I swear, if this fucker gets away with this, I will riot.
Is nobody seeing the Creepiest Grin of the Century?
No, of course not, they’re trying to fight a raging fire.
And of course, there’s a court hearing over the whole thing. Jekyll went nuts. True. He was addicted to drugs. Also true, though it’s not any kind ever seen before. Sought vengeance for imagined slights. True again.
“Fortunate to have escaped – “
Screw you.
Death by suicide. If only.
Do not tell me this is how this movie ends.
“A fine man. A fine – “
Shut up Ernst.
“The higher man.” Shut your face hole, Hyde.
Jekyll is coming out.
“I must leave immediately.” Oh no, you don’t, you bastard.
“Help me.” Keep talking, Jekyll. Get out of there. Confess. You deserve it.
Lots of struggling here. Again, props to the actor.
Inspector, Ernst, and everyone are watching. Do it now, you bastard.
He turned back into Jekyll!
Finally! You did something useful!
He looks really old. Apparently being Hyde aged him decades.
You can still rot in hell.
“I have destroyed him.”
“And yourself, my poor friend.”
“Only I could destroy him.” Dramatic pause. “And I have.”
He’s arrested.
Abrupt Hammer Horror Ending.
Kitty and Paul deserved better.
This review is 20 pages long, over 6K words, and it took me 4 hours to get through it because I kept pausing and rewinding to quote.
You’re welcome.
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taytootwisted · 3 years
Text
— 1. Who was the last person you held hands with? Jamel
2. Are you outgoing or shy? Outgoing
3. Who are you looking forward to seeing? :)
4. Are you easy to get along with? Ehh for the most part
5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you? Fuck yeah
6. What kind of people are you attracted to? I like quiet men lol
7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now? Wow I don’t think so
8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind? :)
9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? Not really
10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? Tee
11. What does the most recent text that you sent say? Goodmorning
12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?
Callin my phone, trackstar, off the yak, no more parties, goat
13. Do you like it when people play with your hair? Yes, makes me sleepy
14. Do you believe in luck and miracles? Sometimes
15. What good thing happened this summer? We’re in a pandemic idrk
16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? Sure
17. Do you think there is life on other planets? Yes!
18. Do you still talk to your first crush? No lol
19. Do you like bubble baths?ehhh haven’t had one in years
20. Do you like your neighbors? I’ve only seen him once in a year maybe twice 😂
21. What are you bad habits? Smoking & procrastinating
22. Where would you like to travel? The tropics
23. Do you have trust issues? Yeah pretty severe
24. Favorite part of your daily routine? The blunt I face after work
25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? Ehhh just wish I wasn’t as tiny
26. What do you do when you wake up? Wake up?¿
27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? Darker
28. Who are you most comfortable around?my family & friends
29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up? Yep
30. Do you ever want to get married? Nope
31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail? Yes need a cut
32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with? Hmmmm lol
33. Spell your name with your chin. It just clicks buttons
34. Do you play sports? What sports? I use to! Soccer, basketball, track & volleyball
35. Would you rather live without TV or music? TV
36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them? Duh
37. What do you say during awkward silences? Nothing they don’t really bother me
38. Describe your dream girl/guy? Tall dark handsome rich & kind & quiet & loves me more than life
39. What are your favorite stores to shop in? I haven’t went shopping in so long I’m really crusty lol
40. What do you want to do after high school?HAHAHA
41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? Not everyone, but yes
42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean? I’m in my thoughts
43. Do you smile at strangers? Sometimes
44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean? Let’s go to space babe
45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning? Survival
46. What are you paranoid about? Nothing currently
47. Have you ever been high? Yep
48. Have you ever been drunk? Yep
49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about? Nope
50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore? Grey
51. Ever wished you were someone else? Timmy Turner
52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself? A fatter ass but we working on it
53. Favourite makeup brand? Elf
54. Favourite store?
55. Favourite blog? Tumblr duh
56. Favourite colour? Yellow
57. Favourite food? Spanish
58. Last thing you ate? Noodles
59. First thing you ate this morning? Nada but I want chic
60. Ever won a competition? For what? One time I won selling the most cookie dough for school in like 6th grade 🤣
61. Been suspended/expelled? For what? About 30 times, a bit defiant
62. Been arrested? For what? Shoplifting & weed charges
63. Ever been in love? Very much so
64. Tell us the story of your first kiss? I think I was like in 7th grade I met up w the boy I had a crush on to hang at the park he was on a scooter. We did a lil peck kiss lol
65. Are you hungry right now? Yes!! I want chic
66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends? Don’t have any tumblr friends :/
67. Facebook or Twitter? Twitter
68. Twitter or Tumblr? Both
69. Are you watching tv right now? Nope
70. Names of your bestfriends? Tee, Bri, Ale, Mel, Kev,
71. Craving something? What?omg ur gonna keep asking huh CHIC
72. What colour are your towels? Pink, cream, flower print, brown
72. How many pillows do you sleep with? Three
73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? Yes
74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have? 1 right now
75. Favourite animal? Cheetah
76. What colour is your underwear? Black
77. Chocolate or Vanilla? Vanilla
78. Favourite ice cream flavour? Chocolate chip cookie dough
79. What colour shirt are you wearing? Blue
80. What colour pants? No pants
81. Favourite tv show? Wentworth currently
82. Favourite movie? Too hard
83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2? Original duh
84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street? 21 jump street lol
85. Favourite character from Mean Girls?
86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo? Dory
87. First person you talked to today? Nobody yet
88. Last person you talked to today? Today just started
89. Name a person you hate? Nobody
90. Name a person you love? My mom
91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? Nope I’m good
92. In a fight with someone? Nope :)
93. How many sweatpants do you have? Probably like 10
94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have? Probably like 10 lol
95. Last movie you watched? Something in Netflix I forget
96. Favourite actress? Nope
97. Favourite actor? Nope
98. Do you tan a lot? No I’m pasty as shit
99. Have any pets? Nope lonely lol
100. How are you feeling? I’m feeling good I think today is gonna be a good day
101. Do you type fast? Yea
102. Do you regret anything from your past? There’s one thing I wish I could go back & change
103. Can you spell well? I believe so
104. Do you miss anyone from your past? Yes
105. Ever been to a bonfire party? Yes
106. Ever broken someone’s heart? Yes
107. Have you ever been on a horse? No :/
108. What should you be doing? Nothing it’s 630 am
109. Is something irritating you right now? Nope
110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt? Yes :/
111. Do you have trust issues? HUGE
112. Who was the last person you cried in front of? Uh...... the girls at the viewing
113. What was your childhood nickname? Birdy
114. Have you ever been out of your province/state? Yes
115. Do you play the Wii? I have
116. Are you listening to music right now? Nope
117. Do you like chicken noodle soup? Yes
118. Do you like Chinese food? Yes!
119. Favourite book? Not sure
120. Are you afraid of the dark? No
121. Are you mean? Sometimes
122. Is cheating ever okay? No but it happens
123. Can you keep white shoes clean? Yes
124. Do you believe in love at first sight? No
125. Do you believe in true love? Yes
126. Are you currently bored? No this is entertainment
127. What makes you happy? Food, love, money
128. Would you change your name? No
129. What your zodiac sign? Cancer
130. Do you like subway? Eh
131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? Omg this already happened I fucking snapped :/ we’re ok now tho
132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? Tee
133. Favourite lyrics right now? She’s a runner she’s a trackstar
134. Can you count to one million? I guess so
135. Dumbest lie you ever told? I don’t really lie too much
136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed? Closed
137. How tall are you? 5”3’
138. Curly or Straight hair? Both
139. Brunette or Blonde? Blonde
140. Summer or Winter? Summer
141. Night or Day? Both
142. Favourite month? June
143. Are you a vegetarian? No
144. Dark, milk or white chocolate? Once in awhile all three
145. Tea or Coffee? Yea
146. Was today a good day? Just started
147. Mars or Snickers? Neither
148. What’s your favourite quote? Get me lit ima slut fr
149. Do you believe in ghosts? Sure
150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page? “I’m happy to do it either way.”
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