#you gotta put your fucking money where your mouth in the past and present has been ie ''Yay Human Rights'' and so on

[masterkeynobi]

absolute pussy moves by the dropout admin today btw free palestine til it's backwards

#sree.txt #cant build a platform and fanbase off being Unproblematic and Progressive and then turn around and say no politics lmfao #a company is just a company never a friend #the fucking. capitalism is the bad guy merch. ghoulish #craaaazy too given that off the top of my head at least aabria and beardsley #have like. been talking about palestine #but then white liberals will be white liberals lmfao #its like how i feel abt the hozier statement #its not that i dont think the people involved like are necessarily evil etc etc it's just that #you gotta put your fucking money where your mouth in the past and present has been ie ''Yay Human Rights'' and so on #and its cowardly and disgusting to back away from that when it needs to be happening most #anyway from what ive seen dropoutcord hasnt been friendly to anyone but white nasties in a hot minute so. i dont regret never joining no

[tsukishumai]

Prank Wars w/ their S/O - Tsukki, Kuroo, Akaashi, Bokuto

My Gym 3 babies! 

Couldn’t get this idea out of my head lmao, so I cranked it out real quick.

Hope you like!

Aged-up characters :)

TSUKISHIMA –

You looked at the clock on the wall of your shared apartment.

It read ’11:56 PM’

Tsukki’s birthday was in four minutes, and the two of you were spending it huddled around the kitchen table, papers scattered all over while you both attempted to finish your midterm papers.

Not exactly the most glamorous way to spend it, but such is life for college students.

Still, that didn’t mean you didn’t have something up your sleeve.

Tsukishima was sitting across from you, eyes trained to the screen of his laptop, headphones on with the volume undoubtedly maxed it.

“Kei,” you called out, and just as you expected, he couldn’t hear a word you said.

You rummage through your bag, and found the pair of scissors you stowed away earlier for this exact moment.

“Kei,” you said again, a little louder this time. Still, you were met with nothing.

‘Perfect.’

“Kei!” you yelled out, and with a quick snip, you had cut the wire that was connecting his headphones to his laptop.

You watched as Tsukishima’s eyes widened slightly, eyes darting from the cut wire to you, then back to the cut wire, then back to you.

“What the actual fuck?” he said in disbelief.

“I’ve been calling your name for ten minutes now, and you were ignoring me!”

“So you cut my headphones” he sputtered out, still trying to process the situation.

“You couldn’t hear me!”

“Wha – I – Are you an actual moron?!” His eyes narrowed at you, taking the now broken head phones off his head and throwing them off the table, “There were a hundred different ways to get my attention, and you had to pick the most idiotic way. Jesus fucking Christ, how the hell am I supposed to –“

You cut him off by placing a small box on the table, wrapped in a light green wrapping paper patterned with a cartoon dinosaur wearing a party hat.

He stared at the box.

“’How the hell am I supposed to drown out your annoying voice’? That’s what you were gonna say, right?”

He glared at you.

You pointed to the box.

“What the hell is it that?” he asked, eyeing the box suspiciously.

“It’s a present,” you rolled your eyes, “or are you too stupid to – “

He snatched the box from the table at your words. You smirked with satisfaction as you watched him quickly ripped off the paper, his hands stilling once he realizes what was underneath.

It was a set of Bluetooth headphones – ones that he has been eyeing for months but hadn’t been able to save up enough money to get.

He looked up at you, eyes softening immediately at the proud smile you had on your face.

“Happy birthday, Kei!” you giggled.

He stood up from his chair to make his way around the table and gave you a sweet kiss on the forehead.

What’s a present without a little psychological torture?

KUROO

Kuroo was planning to be nice to you today.

Really, he was.

He even took a quick pit stop at the mall so he could get you a drink from your favorite boba spot.

But when he walked passed the kiosk selling cheap hair extensions, an idea so great popped into his head, he couldn’t ignore it.

He got to your apartment, and the happy smile on your face almost made him hesitate to go on with his plans.

But then you said, “What’s up with your hair today, Tetsu? Couldn’t be bothered to look in the mirror for longer than two seconds?”

His eyebrow twitched.

He waited for the perfect opportunity, and it came when you went into the bathroom to finish doing your make up.

He grabbed a pair of scissors from a drawer in your kitchen, and then cut off a thick lock of hair from the extension he had bought that matched your color.

He tiptoed his way into the bathroom, making sure not to make much noise so that you didn’t notice him.

Making a big show of it, he snipped the scissors loudly behind your head, then held up the fake lock of hair for you to see in the mirror.

He couldn’t stop the shit eating grin from spreading on his face as he watched your face slowly register what you just heard, and what you were seeing in the mirror.

Your face contorted with anger and disbelief, quickly snapping your head around to stare at the lock Kuroo was holding.

“WHAT,” you shrieked, “THE. FUCK!”

Kuroo was bent over laughing at this point.

“KUROO TETSURO, I – YOU –“ You sputtered, but then you turned back to your sink, pulling open a drawer and rummaging through the contents.

Kuroo wondered for only a minute what you were looking for before you produced your own pair of scissors.

Kuroo’s eyes widened, “Y/N…”

“COME HERE YOU ASSHOLE,” You tried to grab at his hair, but he was too quick, and grabbed your wrist.

“Hey, calm down,” he shrieked, “You’re gonna hurt somebody!”

“YEAH, THAT WAS THE PLAN.”

“It was a prank!” he said quickly, and you stopped thrashing around, and Kuroo let out a sigh of relief.

He ran out of the bathroom to grab the plastic bag of fake hair, lifting it up for you to see when you trailed after him.

“See,” he said, “I got it at the mall earlier. Now… Please… Put the scissors down?”

Akaashi –

You and Akaashi were having a peaceful Sunday

After spending the morning lazing around on the living room couch, the two of you decided to go for a run around the neighborhood.

Bad idea.

You absolutely hate running.

Akaashi managed to convince you with the promise of making you chocolate chip pancakes when you finished, but not even that was giving you the motivation to pick your feet up from the ground.

 “Alright, that’s it,” Akaashi called from twenty feet ahead of you, his natural athleticism making you more irritated by the second, “Almost there, you can do it!”

You know he was trying to be motivating, but it just made you want to chuck your shoe at his pretty head.

Your body was aching and exhausted by the time you got back to your door.

Akaashi gave you a quick peck on the cheek, told you to go take a shower while he prepared breakfast.

You agreed, but made your way into the kitchen first to grab an apple sauce packet from the cupboard cause a bitch hates cramping.

When you noticed the box of dried pasta sitting in the corner, an idea flashed into your head.

Quietly, you opened the box and grabbed a few dried pieces, shoving them into your mouth before you turned to Akaashi.

“Hey, Keiji? My back is kind of aching, do you think you could help me crack it?”

He tiled his head at you, setting down the bowl of pancake batter he was mixing.

“How do I do that,” he whipped his hands on a towel before positioning himself behind you.

You crossed your arms. “Just wrap your arms around me, then pick me up and squeeze really tightly.”

Akaashi nodded, wrapping his arms around you. “Ready?”

You nodded, and as soon as you felt Akaashi lift you from the ground, you bit down on the dried pasta in your mouth, creating a loud cracking sound.

Akaashi let go of you in shock, dropping you onto the floor, but you were trying so hard not to laugh, you didn’t even mind.

“Holy hell, was that your back?! Oh my god, Y/N, are you okay?!””

Akaashi knelt down from where he stood, trying to hold you up while you clutched your stomach.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore, and you burst out laughing.

Akaashi narrowed his eyes as you grabbed a napkin from the counter and spat out the dried pasta from your mouth, laughing even harder when Akaashi looked at you in disgust.

 Realization dawned on his face, and he dropped you on the floor once again, stood up, and started heading towards the bathroom, leaving you to pick yourself up.

“Aw come on, Keiji~”

“I’m taking a shower. Make the pancakes yourself.”

“No! Keiji!!”

Bokuto –

You were trying to enjoy the newest episode of your favorite show when it was interrupted by loud screaming.

Screams that you could only recognize as Bokuto’s

You rush out from your room, only to find your boyfriend screaming his head off from the kitchen counter

“Kou?! What the – “

Your eyes barely took in the sight before you.

Bokuto with a knife in his right hand while his left is on the cutting board and all you saw was red – so much red.

“OH MY GOD, KOTARO, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK”

“Y/N, OH MY GOD, GET SOME PAPER TOWELS!”

You scramble around, and in a panic, you grabbed the dish rag that was on the sink, and threw it at him.

“NO, THAT’S A RAG, THAT’S DIRTY!”

“OH MY GOD, WHERE ARE THE DAMN PAPER TOWELS,” you scream out, scrambling around the kitchen that you’ve lived in for the past year, “WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING?!”

“I WAS TRYING TO COOK US SOME DINNER,” Bokuto cried out, and you finally found the damn paper towels under the sink.

You grab the entire roll, ripping off a few sheets and pressing them onto Bokuto’s fingers.

Except, when you wiped the paper towel away, there was no blood. It was… tomato sauce?

And Bokuto’s fingers were neatly intact.

When you finally noticed Bokuto’s phone recording you, you turn to glare at him.

The bastard had the audacity to burst out laughing.

“That’s not funny, Kou!” you shrieked, throwing down the paper towels and storming out of the kitchen.

“Aw, come on, Y/N,” he said in between laughter, “I’m surprised you even fell for that.”

“Well, what the hell was I supposed to think when I come running down, and you’re screaming your head off!”

You crossed your arms and pouted. Bokuto snickered, washing his hands before he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“You gotta admit,” he smiled, nuzzling his face into your neck, “That was a good one.”

You sighed, wrapping your arms around him. “Yeah… it was.”

#tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima imagines #tsukishima x you #tuskishima x y/n #kuroo x reader #kuroo #tsukishima #kuroo testuro #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo imagines #akaashi #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #akaashi x you #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi x y/n #kuroo x y/n #bokuto #bokuto kotaro #bokuto x reader #bokuto x you #bokuto kotaro x reader #bokuto x y/n #bokuto imagines #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #hq!!

[watermelonlipstick]

Dreams, Chapter 19

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 19

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4274

Summary: Life settles into routine as summer comes in Wisconsin.

Warnings: FLUFF, swearing, some smut

           You’d never been so aware of the date after that, somehow feeling like you’d reset your circadian rhythm to know precisely how long two weeks was. Mercifully on the part of the universe, Dean had been right about the lack of reset function as long as you stayed within the same mind; once, just to try, you had entered Sam’s dream and found that Sam Barbie and Sam Mike hadn’t met Dean yet.

           At Dean’s request Sam put a huge amount of effort toward ‘being normal,’ integrating into the community in a more purposeful way. You became friendly with a couple cheerful hairdressers from the salon in the next town over when they started coming to the bar for after work drinks and Sam began getting invited to the poker games Steve hosted. One of your favorite of these new habits was going to the farmer’s market dutifully every week. It reminded you every time of how simple this new life was, where you had spare mental capacity to think about whether you wanted nectarines or peaches because there was no terror dangling just overhead. It also helped distract you from all-consuming thoughts of seeing Dean on alternate Sunday nights, the way your body felt like it vibrated with anticipation for the few days before.

           The two of you had been going for months by the first market in July, long enough to know all the first names of the regular vendors and greet them as you went. You were feeling somehow even more acutely anxious-excited at the upcoming Sunday, Dean having told you both last time that he had a surprise planned. It encouraged you to give more of a concerted effort to linger at every single booth, extend every single moment of killed time you could get from the outing. Sam let you lead the way, ring and pinky finger loosely linked into yours as you walked up and down the aisles of tents and tables in the overgrown gravel parking lot. He had a canvas bag half-filled with beets, green beans, some local honey, and a small carton of apricots. You paused to lean into his chest, waiting for Sam to bend down and kiss you in front of a table of essential oils decorated with macrame. The next one caught your eye, some hand-hewn jewelry, and you pulled him gently along.

           “What do you think?” you asked, holding up some earrings clearly too gaudy to match your style with an exaggeratedly fashionable face.

           “I think those really capture your essence, yeah,” Sam smiled.

           “Or maybe this?” You slipped your hand into a heavy bangle absolutely covered in turquoise that felt like wearing an ankle weight.

           He hitched the bag up on his shoulder and watched the show you put on for him, sweeping some hair back from your neck to let you see a set of earrings in the tiny mirror on the table. His gaze flicked over the wares and he gingerly picked up a small gold band from a tray. It was probably the most understated piece on the table, and definitely the one most likely to fit with the no-nonsense jewelry you tended to wear—the things you were drawn to being more sentimental reminders than ostentatious presentation, intended to be put on once and never taken off.

           “I think this one looks the most like you,” Sam hummed, offering it up for you to try on. The band was medium-thick with rounded comfort edges and when you slipped it on it fit perfectly, just barely tight enough to feel exactly secure on your finger. He was right; it looked good on your hand like you had re-found an old piece that you’d lost, and you considered it for a second before you realized Sam was talking to the woman behind the table as she finished a transaction with a trio of teenaged girls getting matching woven bracelets.

           “That one’s part of a set,” she cooed over to him, her hands resting in a homemade apron covered in embroidered flowers. “They should really go to the same home.”

           You were impressed at Sam’s ability to keep himself from rolling his eyes at that kind of faux sentimental bullshit, but she had already turned her back to you, rifling in another box under the plastic table. She turned around with a larger copy of the ring and darted out, grabbing Sam’s hand quickly enough that he almost stumbled forward as she started to slip it onto his finger.

           “Oh, I don’t really wear jewelr—” he started helplessly.

           “See? Meant to be, it fits perfectly.” She clasped her hands in front of her chin excitedly, beaming over the table at you and Sam. You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing at the expression on his face as he tried inconspicuously to get the ring off.

           “Um—wow, that’s really on there—how much for that one?” Sam asked, awkwardly pointing to the ring on your finger with his pinky as he kept working to try to get his off.

           “$50 for the both of them.”

           “Even the one has gotta be more than that,” he insisted, based on the displayed prices of the gaudy jewelry you’d played around with.

           “I’d feel better knowing they were being appreciated together than I would with the money.”

           You looked up at Sam with the kind of melting cotton candy look you felt like had been plastered to your face for weeks, soft and gooey and something you would’ve made fun of a stranger for. He abandoned trying to get the ring off and tongued a molar before pulling out his wallet and dropping 5 $20 bills on the table, pushing them across with the customer service smile he used at the bar. “Thank you, they’re, uh, they’re beautiful.”

           She only unclasped her hands to stuff the bills in the apron, mouthing a “thank you” at the extra money and winking at Sam as the two of you walked away from the booth.

           “Should we get you a big chain? Or I could pierce your ears with an ice cube and an apple back at the cabin,” you teased, getting used to the way the ring felt on your hand.

           Sam couldn’t keep from rolling his eyes over a smirk. “I really can’t get it off.”

           “I think maybe you just wanted to match me.”

           He stopped walking and you spun around to face him, gazing up into his hazel eyes. “Matching you isn’t so bad.”

           “Oh yeah?” You watched as a slow smirk spread across his face and he looked down at his feet between you. “Thank you, by the way. I really love it.”

           “Just think you, um, deserve nice things.” A little color rose in his cheeks, and there was something so unbelievably sweet about it, being shy with you of all people. You had to press up to your tiptoes and pull Sam’s neck down to kiss him, but it was perfect, the light northern chill that sometimes drifted through the air even in July reminding you of your first kiss on that sledding hill except now it was your hand on Sam’s neck, blood seeping warm and loose through every capillary rather than the cold throb of anxiety you’d had then. With his lips on yours, delicate metal on your finger, and the earthy smell of the fresh produce in the air, you tried to commit to memory how unequivocally good the moment was, how completely outside the realm of possibility this would’ve seemed a year ago. Sam’s hand slipped to your lower back and pressed you to him. “Wanna get out of here?” he murmured into your ear, and it was all you could do not to jump him right there as you wound your fingers in his and wove through the booths to get back to the Impala.

           “Baby—you’ve gotta—fuck, I’m driving,” Sam laugh-moaned, shifting his hips just a little up into the hand you danced along the fly of his jeans.

           You leaned across the bench seat and licked the faintest trail up his jugular vein. “Then pull over.”

           His eyes closed deeply for a beat and hard swallow as he took a deep breath and took a right turn into what was likely a private driveway. It was a calculated move; probably not visible from the rural highway but if the people living here—the place sure to be occupied on a July weekend even if it wasn’t year-round—decided to leave they’d catch an eyeful of graphic roadblock. Knowing he was willing to take the risk made your heart race even faster, and Sam had barely thrown the car into park before he was on top of you, hand in your hair and tugging back roughly to bite-suck at your neck so hard and delicious you gasped before even realizing.

           He grinned into your skin as he kissed you. “Gonna—tease me—like—that? After looking so good—being so sweet—all morning?” You slid your hands in his hair and pulled back, crashing into his mouth and tasting the honey he’d sampled with you at the farmer’s market. You hooked your leg around his hips and rolled up into him, almost salivating at the firm length of him against you and the friction of the denim. He pressed you flat to the bench seat and started working the buttons of your shirt, so lightning-fast he ripped one of the last ones clean off, sending it skittering across the dashboard as it flew. “Sorry,” he smiled as you bit his lip, not looking very sorry at all.

           When your top was finally open Sam tugged at your bra, bypassing the clasp altogether in favor of exposing your nipples above it, somehow grazing his teeth and breathing cool air over them at once to send goosebumps flushing all over your body. You tried to undo the buttons of his shirt somewhat unsuccessfully for a moment before Sam leaned back and yanked at the back of his collar, tossing it in the backseat without looking as you flicked open his belt buckle and jeans. You grabbed either side of the open belt and tugged, making Sam’s chest press against yours and giggling into his lips at his tiny “oof,” when he fell forward onto the seat, throwing his arm out to avoid landing on you with his full weight.  

           With his torso against yours, he kissed you like he was gorging himself on candy; hungry and playful as you pushed and pulled against each other until you guided his cock out of his boxers and circled the tip with your thumb. Sam whimpered softly, just once and softly enough you might’ve thought it was a sharp inhale, but the broken concentration was enough for you to catch him off guard and shove him back on the seat across from you. He stretched back against the leather and door, pleasantly surprised behind widened pupils as you quickly got out of your shirt/bra tangle and kicked off your boots. It could’ve been some kind of pseudo-pornographic ad, Sam with tousled hair and undone jeans up against the door of the Impala, taut skin and muscles of his abs on full display as his arms spanned an impossible amount of the windowsill and seatback. If you’d had the self-restraint, you might’ve taken an extra second to soak it in, but as it was you pounced on him the moment the fabric of your clothes left your hands, slipping your fingers under his waistband enough to expose his cock and immediately sliding it into your mouth, hands still working to get him further out of his jeans.

           Anyone else making the sound he did would never have had the same effect, but the gravelly moan your tongue forced out of him dissolved you into jello and you wanted nothing more than to hear it again. Rhythmically working the spit-slick between your mouth and hands, you dragged your head up to look Sam in the eyes, heavy tip of him weighing down your bottom lip as you spoke. “Hold my hair?”

           Sam’s eyes went fuzzy and dark as his eyebrows raised into a dazed smile, gathering your hair in a huge palm and making that amazing noise again as you slid all the way down him, nose grazing the dark hair on Sam’s abdomen. After a few minutes his hips bucked a little under you, Sam beginning to writhe on the leather. “Fuck, that feels so goo—hold on, wait,” Sam stammered with sex-frayed vocal cords, using your hair to tug you to his mouth and suck your tongue. The sensation stunned you for a moment but you could’ve stayed there forever, held up in his palm and flayed open for Sam to take.

           He trailed down your jaw and pulled firm when you tried to turn into his kiss. “Out of your jeans. Now.” You could feel the smirk against you and immediately started shimmying them off, loving this new edge to Sam, able to fully appreciate the grit knowing how soft he would be if you showed even the slightest hesitation. When you’d gotten the denim about halfway down your thighs he put a strong hand on your hip and flipped you over in the seat, your cheek flush against the glass of the window where he draped over your back like a predator. “Don’t. Move.”

           The shudder was involuntary but it was covered by Sam practically ripping the jeans the rest of the way off your legs and subsequent hoisting your hips into the air as he shifted your knees up to the leather, your chest pressed against the door of the Impala as you looked back at him. You didn’t have any warning when Sam slipped his tongue inside you, shooting your arm out to grab for anything to stabilize yourself and ending up with a handful of seatbelt. Your calf curled up as he worked those sensitive nerves, swirling a thumb into your clit as he went. Sam locked the freed ankle with an iron grip. “I said don’t move.”

           You whimpered and whispered dirty nothings you wouldn’t have been able to remember with a gun to your head until he smacked your ass hard enough you knew there’d be a red facsimile of his hand on you, and then you completely fell apart, shuddering and melting into the door. Sam crawled up behind you, chest flush to your back, and bit your earlobe. “I. Said. Don’t. Move.” You could hear the playful challenge in it and that made you even more crazy for him, wiggling under his weight a little involuntarily. He didn’t make you wait too long, pushing into you until his thighs pressed to yours, holding you in place so you couldn’t squirm forward.

           “Holy shit, Sam,” you breathed. You could feel your muscles flex and relax experimentally around him.

           His tongue flicked around your ear as he pounded into you. “You’re so fucking hot, baby—can’t believe you’re my girl. Are you my girl?”

           The sounds you made were vaguely affirmative but to be honest, Sam’s rocking into you was pretty effectively scrubbing your mind clean of coherent thought.

           “Tell me. Say my name,” Sam murmured, voice low with sin against your spine.  

           “I’m your girl, Sam—your girl, I’m your girl Sam, I—holy shit—” you moaned as he picked up the pace and circled a sucked-wet finger around your clit and then you hit that sweet, sticky spasm, hand splaying out wide on the window. Sam covered it with his, interlacing long fingers into yours and something about the way the metal of the two new rings clinked against each other was so tender even as you were being rammed into the door. A couple moments later he drew back with a tense groan, dressing your lower back with hot spurts of himself while his breath started to return with ragged shudders.

           “Jesus,” he sighed as he eased off of you, suddenly gentle again. “Oh—uh, here, sorry.” Sam extended a veined arm over the front seat to snatch his shirt from where it had landed and gently wiped off your back. You let the cool glass settle your racing heartbeat for a beat before sliding back to the seat and the small pile of clothes Sam had retrieved for you. It made you smirk a little to watch Sam’s internal struggle over what to do with the dirty shirt, deciding to toss it on the floor before refastening his belt shirtless like he was in some Country Hotties calendar—Mr. July indeed.

           You opted not to tie your boots as you’d only be walking from the car to the door and looked over at Sam once your feet were inside the loose laces. He opened and closed his mouth but couldn’t come up with any words, smoothing his hair nervously back into place and chuckling against a bitten lip.

           “Yeah, I agree,” you giggled, leaning over to kiss his cheek before lacing your fingers together. “Do you want anything specific for dinner? We have a bunch of chickpeas, I thought maybe we could try making our own falafel.”

           He gazed back at you for a reverent second before turning the key in the Impala’s ignition. “I love you,” he smiled, throwing an arm over the back of your seat to reverse out of the woods.

           Tracing the angles of his face in the sunlight as he drove, you picked your joined hands up to kiss his knuckles. “I love you too.”

           After a few minutes of endorphin-filled silence, Sam turned to you. “So do you know what this surprise is Dean has planned for tomorrow night? I figured he’d have to tell you what it was going to be if you’re the one whose head it’ll be in.”

           “No clue. I thought at first maybe it was like, the Grand Canyon or something but ran into the same issue. Unless Cas’s taught him some new trick, he’s only ever been able to pull up places or things I already know—pick my brain for it, or whatever.”

           “Yeah, me too.”

           The air in the car held the content pensiveness for a few minutes of sunny road. There was no real heat behind it, just like there was no real heat in choosing between different rattan baskets of produce at the farmer’s market, and that same appreciation of the serenity itself washed over you. A surprise was just a surprise, not a potential threat, a date with Dean was just a date with Dean, no longer a finite, losable resource that had to be clawed at and fought for. You didn’t miss the heat. There was more than enough warmth in the sun streaming through the windows and Sam’s palm in yours.

           As it did frequently, Dean’s face in your driveway flashed in your mind, the memory somehow simultaneously old-picture washed out yet vibrant—could dreams even be memories? aren’t all memories dreams, in a way?—collar of his jacket flicked up against the cold as he said “you have to get good with this,” the flit of tongue you could see as he shaped ‘th’ enough to shape a painting class around, send a dozen art students into psychosis for inability to capture it. It had been so hard to figure out how the fuck he expected you to, how cruel it felt for him to ask it, and the only way you’d gotten your head around it was that same Dean Winchester Denial & Self Sacrifice Special and accepted it at face value. When he’d died you hadn’t felt like so many movies and books about tragic loss, where the strong but sensitive woman you’re supposed to relate to spent a few months in poetic sadness growing waifish and crying picturesque tears in solitude until she realized she could carry on.

           You couldn’t carry on.

           You couldn’t carry anything—were dragging yourself along in the most generous of descriptions, some half-dead, half-smashed zombie version of yourself clinging to any will to live like a barnacle out of devotion and need for Sam. Getting Dean back felt like life raft thrown into the water. You really had wanted to spend the rest of your life asleep and were more than content to ingest as much dream root as it would take to decompose into the cabin’s mattress next to Sam, let your landlord find your skeletonized bodies after a few months of unpaid rent. Fuck him, kind as he’d been to two strangers who’d needed help, and fuck hunters’ funerals for you and Sam if it meant you didn’t have to keep drowning.  Fuck Dean’s wishes especially, let him bend to someone else’s will for once.

           At first, maybe the first month after the dream root, only logistical reasons kept you from following through. What you wanted—needed, would’ve ruined the world for—was Sam and Dean together, and you couldn’t find a way to get Sam to agree no matter how obliquely or obviously you asked. He was unbelievably patient with you during this period of near-psychosis, and you suspected that a lot of the new habits he constructed, maybe including your beloved farmer’s market, were designed to keep you away from the greenhouse for as many hours a day as possible. You knew what he was doing, but the bright glare of panic in his eyes whenever you ‘joked’ about growing bigger patches of those little white flowers slowed down your singular focus enough to humor him, telling yourself it was just stalling until you could make your move.

           But damn if it hadn’t worked. Not that it stopped that tick-tick-tick in your brain counting down to Dean, but it made the days bearable. Just bearable, at first, the newness of your surroundings and the newness of Sam, all the things you hadn’t known about him after years of sitting inches away from each other in the Impala. And then it stopped being so much about fuck you Dean fuck getting good with you being gone and a little more about getting good with the way Sam’s hair dried if he went to bed right after showering, floppy, glossy loops and easy curls at the base of his neck; getting good with racing him down the rickety pier on the cabin’s shoreline, knowing he was letting you win and squealing all the way down anyway, jumping into the lake at dusk on Memorial Day with all your clothes on together as Sam cannonballed in behind you. Getting good with Sam’s arms around you as you both shuddered in the water, shrieking with laughter and a smile on his face of genuine, unbridled joy. Getting good with waiting for every other Sunday, because sometimes waiting was Sam bringing you a root beer float in your favorite mug while you read, and sometimes it was feeling him fall asleep against you while you scratched his back.

            Then getting good with the way it became less taboo to talk about him, being able to casually repeat old jokes of Dean’s without feeling like you were being stabbed in the chest or being terrified of sending Sam into a spiral. Getting good with memories of your old life together, your old friends, truly able to appreciate them. Because Dean was right, you had been ‘upset because you wanted something that didn’t exist.’ You could stay upset about it, stay so fucking mad about the unfairness of it all, that after all Dean had done—for you, for the world—that he was fucking gone, didn’t get to live in a cabin or have a couple daughters to braid Uncle Sammy’s hair—God, Dean saying that had haunted you maybe more than anything—and let it necrotize you from the inside out. Or you could let the ways he had permeated your very being serve as more commemoration than most people ever dream of, appreciate that the Impala still felt like an extension of him, see glimmers of the way he and Sam were still connected every day.

           And, of course, visit him at night to take the edge off, love him and kiss him and scream until you laughed. Annoying as it was to admit it, all that getting good slowly let you see what he’d been trying to open your eyes to in that driveway. You had so much more than anyone in the world. How stupid, how greedy, to have all of that and cut yourself off from anything else because it wasn’t exactly the way you wanted it to be. Looking back at it felt like watching a home video of yourself as a kid throwing a tantrum, but for ages, and you almost couldn’t believe Sam had stuck right by your side through it all, guided you gently and patiently even through his own battle. Sweet, beautiful, loyal Sam.

           As if on cue, he looked over at you. The sun poured through the windshield and shone off his hair like a halo, sparkled like glitter in his eyes. Someone who’d had a normal life would’ve said he looked angelic. But you had so much more than that, got to see both that golden hour was giving you a bit of a heavy-handed metaphor and that Sam was not only more than angelic, he was the whole world. He was the life raft all along, Dean’s Herculean return to you the lighthouse that let you see what had been there from the start, what had never left. His fingers tightened around yours a fraction. “Thanks for coming with me today.”

           The smile splitting your face felt like the first delicious stretch after sleeping in on a rainy morning. “Wouldn’t dream of going anywhere without you.”

-

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 20

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

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[thehltwoghosts]

Director's Cut: We Made It - Analysis

''I always said I'd stop eventually. The longer you go, the bigger the chance of messing it all up. The more you forget yourself. It's time. The walls are closing fast.''

It could be about stunts and being a part of one direction. He always told himself that someday ‟I'm going to quit’’ so the longer he continues his job, the more he can show his feelings in front of cameras while he pretends to hide.

He's beginning to forget himself, forget the caring about the ones who he loves. He just focuses himself to play what needs to be played and be the person who he has to be. ‘Cause the more he thinks about others, the weight he’s carrying is beginning to become more and more heavy with every heartbreak. 

In the first shots you can see that the guy's under the water for about 36 seconds which is longer than the last shot of the same scene. So in these shots, he takes time to think about all the memories with his lover and the things happened through the years. All the things we’re going to see are happening inside the guy’s head. Right now he’s examining these and trying to see what did he do right or wrong through all years.

I think that represents the time after one direction's break up. Louis was trying to find himself, find his sound and make what he wanted to do after all the things happened. He was trying to see it all at once, see his mistakes, take notes from those and come back present day as a better version of him. Clean, confident, honest...

We Made It

''Now we're saying goodbye, waving to the hard times. Yeah, it's gonna be alright.'' He wants to say goodbye to the hard times and start again. All along he knows that they're gonna make it whatever happens.

''Don't do this, he wouldn't stop. Keep using you and using you.''

His relationship was going through some troubles. They talk about his job, problems and how he needs to get away from the people who are using him. His partner tried to convince him to quit so they could be free.

''He's always tough to me. You just worried something happen'' 

He thinks differently at that time, thinks that he can work it all out and be adequate, thinks that the problem isn't the other guy who is in charge but himself. He can make it right, so others couldn't get any harm.

''Something will happen. If it isn't this time then the next. You're replaceable.'' 

''I gotta doing.'' 

The most important thing about this is he knows that he's replaceable, everybody can take his place, he knows that he's there to just serve, just obey for them.

Easter Egg :)

''I know him better than you ever will, he's my dad.''

This could be coincidence, If we didn't get the photo after a few days later when this video was released. Exact same time and exact integration with this sentence. Coincidence? We don't know her.

He has to go, has to do what he had been doing all along. Even If this cost to get away from the one who he loves, he needs to go. No other way that is known.

Same shots from the beginning keep showing us through the story. The story we saw is a flashback, happened in the past and now he's keeping some time to himself for review and understanding what has happened to them. Like I said before :)

Don't Let It Break Your Heart

''Don't you let it kill you, even when it hurts like hell.'' The second part is about trying to get away from the bad guy. He changed his mind, still a little hope inside him alive even If he has been hurt from time to time.

''I've known you since you were a little kid. I loved your family.'' 

''Don't know why they put all of this on us when we're so young. Done a pretty good job dealing with it all.'' He has been under the bad guy's control since he was a kid. He was just so innocent to fall in love.

''All I ask for loyalty.'' 

The guy wants his loyalty nothing less nothing more. Just his plan needs to go well as he designed. Players need to play their games and keep their mouths close.

I mean this scene is pretty obvious...

When the bad guy comes to place he's been in, he feels uncomfortable like every move he makes has been watched by someone who has control to say something about it. Then he looks away like he feels away from this group.

The guy gave money to people to make his works. Control every part of his plan to not have any mistakes. Perfect plan, perfect money.

''All you gotta remember, put your fucking mask on!'' 

In the second photo which is in video at 6:03. The person talking has a Bradford accent like Zayn and we have 5 guys in the car. Also you can see that guy has a strong impact on guys, they can't even ask questions or get answers.

''What's up?'' 

''What do you mean what's up?'' 

''You're not the same son. Don't mean tell me 'I'm fine'. Don't lie to me.'' 

While the guy asking these questions, he has a face that humiliates and insults people in front of him. And the boy always tries to avoid eye contact with the bad guy.

''I'm thinking after all these done, I have a little breather.'' 

''So you're asking me this or you're telling me?'' 

''I'm telling you.'' 

He's kinda shy while telling those, maybe scared of the reaction he'd receive. He seems insecure around the bad guy more than anybody.

''I decided what you do and when you do it, understand?'' 

''Good boy.'' 

''Go on your way.''

Bad guy takes a step closer to intimidate. Physical interaction, entering his personal zone, the look on the boy's face (disappointment) and last but not least the words. We can only imagine :(

''When you love someone and they let you go...'' This part has a few seconds to stop to highlight the words. And a little struggle tone Louis' used.

Stealing money could be about taking everything that he gave to the bad guy back. When he left, he dropped nothing to their advantage and used that to build his own life with his lover. Or it could be just a scenario thing.

''Listen to me sir! I want you to the get and find him and I want you to hurt him. Do whatever you gotta do to make him talk and gave my money back and when you done that, just give him a nicely walk.'' 

After money (the only thing he cares about) is taken away from him, he's just pissed off.

''You give me a cup of tea.'' 

That shade, only thing I found funny in this.

Kill My Mind

''You kill my mind, raise my body back to life and I don't know what I'd do without you now.'' He comes back to his love. Maybe the only thing keeps him what he's doing all this time along.

His lover's trying to have fun. Not fun fun but just for survival. Keeps living but one part is missing. Happy for the outside world but If you look inside, you can see the loneliness.

''I can ease the pain, just a little taste babe.'' They get back together. Happy that they're in each-other's arms, their kiss eases the pain. Just one touch, one look, one move...

They run away from the crowd. Arrive the place they can be alone and do whatever they want to do. Just lovers in the night, sky looks so blue, whispers on the air, laughs fill the blanks...

But they had been watched from the beginning. Even If looks like they're alone, every time they turn the corner or look around, they see others who examine every move they make. And the boy finally sets himself free, breaking away from the others just to be individual.

Just, I dare you to tell me these are not same. Lou is the fish, wbk :)

''Talk to me.'' 

''He's gone'' 

''Catch up(?) but with my money?'' 

''He jumped, there is no way he could have survived that.'' 

They think he can't make it on his own, he doesn't have anything special, he always needs others to shine. He is replaceable...

But he can make it and he made it. He landed the ground just by himself after all of these. He lost the weights on his shoulders, found somewhere he could be with his lover. The place where the sun's brighter than ever. Just them against everybody but together in the end.

These scenes... Louis watched all the events just like us. He can be an older version of his. He visited places after healing to just remember his past. He took the money from the bad guy and left nothing behind. Now he has power and money, but the bad guy has not.

So money isn’t just a scenario thing. Stealing money represents taking everything that he gave to the bad guy back. He took every piece of him from the guy, every moment he spent with him, every promise he had to make... He took everything just this guy to not have any impact on his career, on his life, on him as a person.

Only The Brave

''It's a solo song and it's only for the brave.'' 

He is brave enough to learn from his mistakes and fight to take his personality back. He is brave enough to stand for what he has, the love. He is brave enough to love ‘cause love is only for the brave. He’s brave...

''Love is only for the brave.''

''When you know, you know''  You know?

Even though we have 3 songs intertwined with story and a song extra, he named this as We Made It. He wants us to know that they made it, they've been going through changes and even If they had some problems along the way, in the end they're strong enough to stick each-other.

In conclusion, we saw a story along with a guy under the water. He thought about past events, choices he made, set himself free aka 1D break-up. At the end He Made It, he finally found his sound, confidence and most important lover. They're together and they'll be alright.

(Thanks for reading, take care yourself xxx)

THE END

#larry #larry stylinson #larry theories #larry theory #louis and harry #larry is literally real #larry is love #hl #lt #walls album #we made it #director cut #larry analysis #larry narrative #louis tomlinson #larry songs #one direction analysis #love is only for the brave #he's brave

[seaaitch-getalife]

Roger Taylor x reader 1973 (SMUT)

Summary: It´s 1973, London. You just started working in the recording studio of an old friend, who so happens to record Queens newest album.

Pairing: young!RogerTaylor x F!reader

A/N: this is my first part and first story that involves smut...so yeah I hope you guys enjoy it. In the next part it should get even spicier

Words: 3284

Warnings: smut, swearing, alcohol, cigarettes, dom/sub, hate fucking, degrating, fighting, unprotected sex, age difference (reader is 18 and Roger is 24), public sex, oral, over stimulation, Roger and reader being assholes to eachother

IF YOU ARE A MINOR DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS 18+ STORY

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Chapter 2 – Party time

„RIIIIIIIIIIIIING!!!“. I fell out of bed when my alarm clock starts ringing. „Ughhh it's only 9 in the fucking morning! Shut up!“ I said while throwing a pillow at the object. Of course, it didn´t go silent so I finally got up to turn it off and throw it on the bed. What a great start...

I took a shower, did my make up and got dressed. Same jeans as yesterday but this time with a red top and some black sunglasses.

On the 20min long way to the studio, I grabbed a coffee and had my usual morning cigarette. After I finally arrived Rick greeted me. „Good morning Y/N! Are you ready for your first day at work?“ he said with a wide grin. I smiled tiredly back at him. „Yeah *yawn I can't wait“. He chuckles a bit and starts walking to another room, I follow him like a lost puppy. It's the recording room from yesterday but this time without the band. „Where are they?“ I ask him in a quiet voice. He turns to me „Oh they'll be here in 2 hours,“ I wanted to say something but he cut me off „Buuut before you start to complain, you're not here this early without a reason. I need you to clean the room before they arrive, Can you do this?“. „I mean... it's my job now isn't it?“ I said with a little unsure smirk „That's the spirit!“ he said while walking to the door but stops to face me again „Oh before I forget, the cleaning utensils are in the small room at the end of the hall, next to the toilets“ he gave me one last smile before walking away.

I sighed but didn't complain... „It's my job, isn't it? I gotta be grateful for this opportunity! Also how hard can it be?“ I thought to myself while walking to the room at the end of the hall to get everything I need. But when I opened the door... I thought I lose it... there was a bucket, an old used sponge that looked like a zombie version of SpongeBob, and a vacuum. Nothing more. So I thought for a second before walking out across the street to the supermarket. I got a few cleaning products and new sponges! Then I started cleaning. I was probably the first one in 4 years who cleaned this recording room... I didn't even notice when the band started entering the room. I faced the other direction and whore headphones so I couldn't hear them either. My dumbass was dancing and moving my hips to the song I was listening to while cleaning a guitar. Someone tapped me on the shoulder and my soul left my body for a second, I quickly turned around, put the headphones down, and stared blushing like a tomato when I faced Brian and the others. „Oh-Oh god, I'm so sorry I didn't hear you enter the room... I feel so embarrassed!“ I hid my face behind my hands while screaming internally. He gave me a soft smile and took the guitar out of my hand „Thanks for cleaning it“, I started removing my hands from my face, starting to calm down a bit „Uhhh no problem“ I gave him an awkward smile and finally greeted the other members. Freddie joked what a great dancer I would be, even I started laughing at that thought and joked with him. But I also noticed Rogers blushed cheeks and him starring at me. When he noticed me looking at him back he snapped at me „You better not broke anything with your DanCe SkIlLs on my drums!“. I just stared at him not realizing what just happened before I finally snapped back at him „Just because you can't keep anything clean or destroying it while trying to do it doesn't mean I am as useless as you are!“ he just looked at me shocked for a second „Just keep your hands off my drums and move your sweet little ass back to your seat so we can start recording!“. I just looked at him, he made my whole body boil with anger but I tried to keep it cool, I didn't want to lose my job. So instead of saying something back I just started walking to the office without turning around again I yelled „And stop looking at my ass Taylor!“ before slamming the door shut. He just sat there blushing a bit again, the others started laughing.

Rick soon followed and sat next to me, he was surprised seeing all the new products and was even more amazed at how clean everything was, he thanked me and gave me the money for the products with a little tip for my hard work. That put me in a better mood, just a little bit but that's better than nothing.

After 2 more hours of work, I finally decided to take a break, so I got up to go outside. There I was smoking like usual and eating a sandwich I bought earlier. It was peaceful so I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, this feeling of harmony was interrupted by the door swinging open and a loud deep growl. „Uggghhhh of course I had to meet YOU“. I opened my eyes and started to get annoyed just hearing HIM. „I was here first so stop complaining for once! You're acting like a mad child!“. He of course only chuckled deeply while lithing the cigarette in his mouth, then he said in a low voice „And you're acting like a prude old lady who's mad because she doesn't get any good dick.“ His smirk grew when he saw my face. My face was painted in a deep shade of red, my mouth a bit open and my eyebrows furrowed together. He closed one eye and took another stroke while grinning stupidly at me, proud that I lost my words. I stepped on my now dead cigarette and walked past him „Oh sit on a dick Roger!“ I could hear him laugh before the door finally closed. I sat back on my chair, sliding down a bit like a mad blob. Rick snickers, „What happened to you?“ „Roger Taylor happened.“ he laughed slightly petting my head. When Roger walked past us he sticks his tongue out and I flip him off. „Oh you're so mature!“ I mocked at him, he just turned to me „Rather childish than prude and grumpy“ while winking at me, also flipping me off. I blush and angrily sit back in my chair, trying to disappear in it. Rick just laughed but didn't dare to ask what that meant.

Finally, it was the end of your shift and you could go home. When you started to grab your stuff Freddie walked in, grabbing your arm lightly „Y/N wait!“ I looked at him surprised „What is it Fred?“ he smiled „I wanted to invite you and Rick of course too, to my party later!“ „Party?“ I questioned. „Yes, it's gonna be amazing Darling! You have to come I damaged it!“ I was startled for a moment „But what should I wear? I don't own anything fancy... and I don't wanna look like some homeless person at your party“ Freddie just laughed „Oh don't worry Darling you still have five hours before one of my driver is going to pick you up. Here take this“ he put some money in my bag, I didn't know how much. I was so shocked, did this really just happen, or is it all just a weird dream? I snapped back to reality „Oh my... I can't acce-“ Freddie put a finger over my mouth „Yes you can and now go get yourself something fancy I wanna see you as your best self!“ I smiled at him and pulled him into a tight hug „Thank you so much“ I tried not to shed a tear out of joy „I will see you all later!“

- time skip -

I looked in the mirror after putting on my new dress. I looked stunning. It was a tight but not too tight black dress. It hugged my curves perfectly the big cleavage left little to the imagination, my back was open and there was a slit at the side of the dress that complimented my legs perfectly. I wore black high heels and a beautiful necklace to finish off the look. I put some more make-up on fixed my hair and - „RIIING“ I grabbed the phone „Miss L/N your driver has arrived and is waiting for you“ a monotone voice said, „OH yeah I`ll be down there in a second!“ I grabbed my purse and the present I got for Freddie to thank him once again.

We drove about 30min to his House. It was huge. I stepped out of the car and couldn't close my mouth. My eyes sparkled by all the lights shining from inside. I soon got ripped out of my amazement when John greeted me with a warm hug. „Hello Y/N I'm glad you made it“ „Hey John“ I smiled back happy to meet someone I knew. „Do you know where Fred is? I got him a little something.“ he looked down at my champagne bottle and smiled „Yeah I'll show you, follow me!“ he started walking into the crowd. I was scared to lose him between all those people so I grabbed his hand, he looked at me and flashed me a smile while continuing walking. Finally, I could see him I thanked John for showing me the way and excused myself. I walked towards Freddie and his friends when he noticed me he jumped up and hugged me tight „Darling you look amazing! I'm so glad you're here!“ I smiled back at him „I'm glad to Fred! Oh, and I got you something small... as a thank you for the dress“ I handed him the big champagne bottle, attached to it the rest of his money. He laughed „Oh Darling just keep the money it's no bi-“ „No, it's yours and this dress was expensive enough! The champagne I bought with my own money of course...“ He laughed more and hugged me once again. He put the bottle down, took my hand, and started walking to the bar. „To us my dear!“ he said while raising his shot glass. „To you Freddie“ I smiled and downed the clear but strong liquor. I made a weird face because of the taste which made him laugh. We drank and talked for a few more minutes until he had to go greet other guests. So I stayed at the bar because I couldn't see anybody I knew. I definitely should have eaten more because I was drunk way too fast. After my fifth cocktail, someone tapped me on my shoulder, I turned around and fell in the arms of Rick. I gave him a goofy smile „HeyyyYyyY yoU“ he laughed „How much did you drink?“ „ A...a bit... a little tiny bit... I'm not that drinky!“ I said slurring my words. „Yes, you are! Here drink some water.“ He said handing me a glass of water before putting my arm around his shoulder so he could carry me across the room, away from the bar. He sat me down on a sofa and handed me some snacks so I sober up. And oh lord of course it had to happen „Had a few drinks too much hadn't you?“ a bitchy, all the too familiar voice said next to me. I turned my head to see my „best friend“ Roger Taylor. „Oh great... it's yOu...“ I said, trying to hide my drunkness. He looked me up and down and started starring at my cleavage „Excuse me? My eyes are up here!“ He looked up at me, blushing a bit „They seem more entertaining“ I blushed and crossed my arms across my breast before getting up tumbling away, trying not to crash into someone or fall down. He laughed at my getaway, he clearly saw that I can't stand straight anymore but he didn't bother to offer me help. Roger was more interested in the girl that just started talking to him.

I stumbled up the stairs to find a bathroom that wasn't locked, finally, I found one. I looked into the mirror, seeing my messy hair, smeared lipstick, and mascara. I washed it off and redid most of it. It was hard keeping my hand steady but eventually, I did it.

After this, I stepped out of the bathroom and grabbed a spare drink standing on one of the tables. Just when I started walking downstairs again I ran into someone and spilled my drink all over them. It was a girl... she was in the arms of Roger. I was shocked and started apologizing immediately. She started crying and ran away to the nearest bathroom. „GOD DAMN IT! Can't you fucking watch it!“ Roger yelled at me. „It wasn't on purpo-“ „Yeah it fucking was! What even can you do right?! Apparently nothing!“ I started to feel embarrassed but decided to talk back to him anyway. „And what can you do right?! You saw me walking but didn't care to move aside!“ „Oh I'm sorry I didn't know that I needed to step aside for the Queen!“ he stepped closer and closer to me while yelling. I stepped back and hit the wall behind me. „Ugh can't you fucking shut up for once! It was an accident! I didn't fucking see you!“ I tried to act tuff but he wasn't having it, his rage boiled in him it was visible „Shut up yourself you stupid bitch!“ his right arm leaning in the wall next to my head. I could feel his breath on my face it smelled like cigarettes and alcohol. „You should close that mouth of yours you smell like your dying on the inside!“ he moved a bit closer almost touching my face with his. „You should stop talking now!“ he warned with a low growl. I opened my mouth to say something back but that's when he crashed his lips into mine. I was shocked but soon melted into the messy kiss. He bit my lower lip and a small moan escaped my mouth. I then realized what even was happening. His leg was between mine, one arm still resting on the wall the other one on my lower back. Roger started kissing down my neck, biting and sucking on it, trying to find my sweet spot. Of course, that didn't take him long.

He grabbed me and dragged me after him, he opened a door and pushed me into the spare bedroom. He closed the door and grabbed me again pulling me into another hot messy kiss, our tongues dancing together. He skillfully removed my dress from my shoulders, it fell to the floor exposing my bare breasts to him. He inhaled sharply before turning me around. My face pushed into the mattress while my ass was in the air. He unbuckled his pants and pulled them down with his underwear, his hand pushed my soaked panty to the side. „You're such a pathetic little slut, I didn't even touch you and you're already so wet.“ he said in a low voice. Without a warning he pushed himself into me I yelled at the sensation, not even Roger could keep a moan in. „Damn you're tighter than I thought, you seem like such a slut who would bang anyone.“ I couldn't answer, it was too much for me. This drunk feeling mixed with him pounding into me. I couldn't think straight anymore. I saw stars. My eyes rolled back into my head while I was moaning, no not moaning, screaming. He pounded into me with inhuman speed telling me how useless I am, what a bitch I was... but I didn't hear him I concentrated on not cumming. He felt me tightening around him which made him whimper „Are you little slut already cumming!?“ I couldn't answer. My legs started shaking, my face buried more into the bedsheets, and my heat clammed down harder. He didn't stop or slowed down he fucked me harder through my orgasm and the other one that followed after near seconds. Finally, he stopped but only to turn me around. Now I was laying on my back, my legs on top of his shoulder, he immediately started fucking me again. I couldn't even calm down from the last two orgasms. It felt all so unreal. I just felt this penetration that made my face all hot and my skin tingly. Spit was dripping down my open mouth. „You enjoy being used like that don't you“ I nodded my head which made him smirk and go even deeper. „Say my name slut! I want everyone to know who fucked you this good!“ he went even faster. I couldn't hold back another second. His roughness when he fucked all his anger into me it was too much. I once again tightened around his swelling cock, his trusts getting sloppy, he was close. Then I screamed his name on the top of my lungs. Soon after he cums inside me painting my walls in his sperm. For the first time, he was slow, riding out our orgasm. After that he pulled out, breathing heavily. I couldn't move, my legs still twitching feeling like some kind of jello. Roger threw a few tissues at me so I could clean up the mess leaking out of my sensitive cave. He looked at me for another second, admiring his work, before putting his outfit back together and walking out of the room, without saying another word.

I felt like the slut he knew I was. So I quickly got up, put my dress back on, and ran into the nearest bathroom to clean myself up. My hair was a mess, my makeup looked like I went for a swim also mine and his juices spilled down my thighs. I cleaned myself up as well as possible before slowly walking to the bar, drinking once again. Freddie spotted me asking if everything was alright. When he got a better look at me he noticed the marks on my neck, that's when he started laughing „Had a bit fun?“ I didn't answer, my silence said enough. He turned around to greet someone, „Rough night?“ he yelled at this person in the crowd. He chuckles before turning back to me. His mind connecting the dots. „Oh no you didn't!“ he said laughing. I looked at him in confusion. „Roger's back looks like a cat attacked him! The two of you?! I can't believe it!“ He couldn't stop laughing. I said in a quiet voice to keep it down. He snickers and leans closer to me, grabbing the drink out of my hand „I don't judge you Darling I think the two of you needed to let out some steam“ he smiled at me softly „Come with me, we will find Rick so you can go back to your hotel, you need to rest.“ I agreed and followed him.

Rick drove me back to the hotel and wished me a good night, not mentioning the obvious blue, purple and yellow marks all around my neck. I looked like a horny teenager. I just wanted to shower and go to sleep. So that's what I did. I thanked him for driving me here, took a hot shower to wash away my sins, and went to bed. My last thought are those blue eyes clouded by lust.

Next chapter:

#RogerTaylor #rogertaylor #rogerTaylorxreader #rogertaylorxoc #rogertaylorsmut #freddiemercury #brianmay #johndeacon #queen band

[passionatefanfictionbka]

Chrianna Short: Selling Dreams

A/N: An old short that was sitting in my drafts. Figured I finish it and post it. Enjoy!

Rihanna looked around her house and huffed before she just started grabbing photos and items that were spread out and mixed in with her decor. She had spent enough time playing this role and she wanted her life back, as much back of it that she could get. She grabbed a huge duffel bag and started throwing things into it. Just as she went to clear off the table behind her couch, she bumped into Melissa.

“Damn Girl, where you rushing off too?” Mel asked as she gingerly rubbed her shoulder.

“Nowhere. I didn’t see you there. When’d you get here?”

“Just a few minutes ago. You obviously didn’t hear me come in either.”

“Yea, I was cleaning up and wasn’t paying attention.”

“Cleaning up what?” Mel looked around the room, “where’s all the pictures? Don’t you think he’s gonna be a little suspicious?”

“I don’t care what he is especially since he’s not my problem.”

“How is your man not your problem?”

“He’s not my man. Never was. Don’t know how many times I have to say that.”

“Well according to media and your PR, he was your man so outside of this house he was your man. What happened?”

“Nothing. I’m finished.”

“Finished what?”

“I’m finished lying. I’m finished pretending. I’m tired, Mel.”

“Does he know that?”

“I don’t give a fuck what he does or doesn’t know.”

“Whoa there, what is going on?”

“I just told you. I’m finished.”

“Robs, that’s not it. Something happened.”

“Nothing happened, honest. I’m really just over all of this. The trips and shit, it gets really boring after a while, especially if it's not with who you want to be with.”

“Chris know you done?”

“This has nothing to do with him either.”

“That’s not what I asked you. Does Chris know you are done?”

“He knows I was thinking about it.”

“Before me?”

“I didn’t want the judgment, Mel.”

“When have I ever judged you?”

“Not out loud but I could feel the way you’ve been looking at me since this started.”

“That wasn’t judgment, that was disappointment. I told you from the beginning that this wasn’t a good idea. You’ve been letting PR run your life for the last few years and just when I thought you were settled into your own, you let them pull you right back in.”

“Mel, I made the decision to go along with it.”

“For what purpose other than media bullshit?”

“It wasn’t media bullshit to me.”

“And what was it to Chris then?”

“I don’t want to talk about him.”

“You might want to.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I’m right behind you.”

Rihanna jerked around at the sound of Chris’s voice. She smiled before she could catch herself and Chris chuckled, “you look more shocked than I thought you would be. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Why? How are you here?”

“I drove here, what do you mean?”

“How’d you even know I was in town? I didn’t call you.”

“You normally don't and somehow I still have perfect timing,” Chris walked towards her and plopped down in an armchair, “besides I could always sense when something was wrong and considering this room, I was right.”

“Nothing is wrong.”

“You don’t pull a Bernadine in Waiting to Exhale for nothing. What’s going on?”

“I really don’t have to answer you.”

“You don't but you will. Eventually.”

Melissa laughed causing Rihanna to remember she was in the room, “there is nothing funny about this.”

“Oh there’s a lot funny but I’m gonna go to my room and laugh. It’s tense in here.”

Melissa patted Chris’s shoulder as she walked past him to leave the living room. Rihanna turned her attention back to him, “why are you here, Chris?’

“I told you that I sensed something was wrong and...I miss you.”

“I just saw you in New York.”

“That was well over two months ago. Still not used to these long gaps.”

“We’ve dealt with longer.”

“That’s when we really didn’t have any options.”

“Who says now that we do have options?”

“We did especially once we started this up again.”

“This what?”

“What? Does your nigga have the room wired for sound or you just acting dense on purpose?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.”

“You don’t get to barge in my house in the middle of my recharging session, demanding answers to shit that isn’t your business.”

“All of this is my business.”

“Really? How?”

“Because you’re my business and have been over the last decade. I told you this from Matt to Drake to this Arab nigga, I don’t give a fuck about no PR stunts and relationships, we’ve been in this from the beginning and it hasn’t changed. When I feel like something is wrong, I’m gonna come whether you ask me to or not, guns blazing if I have to. We’ve been good for this long so clearly something has changed if you giving me attitude like this and I haven’t seen you in so long.”

Rihanna sighed and ran her fingers through her hair before settling her hands on her waist. Chris was right; he didn’t do anything he wouldn’t normally do when she came in town and she was overreacting.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m just- I don’t know.”

“What is it? Is the pressure getting to you? Are you changing your mind? We’ve been communicating so well up until now, just let me know what’s up.”

��It's not you. I just don’t have my head on too straight.”

“Then let me help you, all you gotta do is talk to me, you know that.”

“I know Babe, it’s just- I’m still trying to figure it out. I feel out of control.”

“So stop trying to figure it out and just relax. You’re not gonna gain more control by acting out of control. Forcing things has never been helpful for you.”

“You’re right.”

“So sit down. Stop trying so hard to make things happen and just let them happen.”

Rihanna frowned and Chris chuckled, “what’s the matter, Baby Girl?”

“When the hell you’d get so wise?”

“I’ve had a lot of practice. Now can I get a proper greeting or you still taking your anger out on me?”

Rihanna rolled her eyes and she moved to sit on Chris’s lap. He kissed her and she laid her head on his shoulder, “I wasn’t taking my anger out on you. I was just frustrated.”

“Same difference.”

Chris made circles on her exposed thigh with his fingertip, “I missed you. Why didn’t you call me when you got in town?”

“Because I’m not staying long. I’m actually out of here tomorrow.”

“Even more reason why you should’ve called me.”

“I also didn’t come here by myself.”

“Ah, now that makes sense. Where’s your Arab money?”

“Fuck you.”

Chris laughed, “I’m serious. Where he at?”

“He left already.”

“Argument?”

“Gotta actually talk to have an argument. I’m just over everything and told him to go. Services no longer needed.”

“Should’ve never enlisted them in the first place.”

“I am not having this discussion with you again, Chris.”

“We’re not, I’m just saying.”

“No more saying. You’ve expressed your dislike with the arrangement enough over the last year or so. You didn’t like him, I get it.”

“So you my girl again or nah?”

“Always been yours.”

“But am I still sharing you or no?”

“No.”

“That’s all I need to hear.”

“But we’re not together, Chris.”

“By whose definition?”

“Anybody’s definition. I need time, Chris.”

“I can give you time. I’ve always given you that.”

“I mean real time. Not you sitting in the corner, staring at your watch and willing me to hurry up time.”

“I do not- nevermind.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Well what do you expect? We were on a good path, babies, marriage, rings and then you spring him on me. Everytime I agree to give you time, you end up giving your time to somebody else. Regardless if it’s a real relationship or not, you’re giving time you promised to me, to somebody not me so yea, it makes me hesitate with this time shit.”

“It’s not like you’ve been waiting all alone.”

“Actually I have. Commenting on IG and shit doesn’t mean nothing when it doesn't translate to real life. ‘I’ve been chilling, minding my business, and taking care of myself. I’ve done nothing but wait by myself.”

“I never asked you to do that.”

“You’ve never asked me to do a lot of things but you knew I would, did you not?”

“I did.”

“So I rest my case.”

“This isn’t easy, Chris.”

“I never said it was but you aren’t making it any easier either.”

“Clearly.”

“So what exactly is your next step?”

“Haven’t figured it out yet. I really don’t know what I want or what I want to do.”

“Just chill for a minute. Give yourself time to relax and actually sleep for a while, it’ll come to you.”

“You’re always good for a positive thought.”

“I don’t like seeing you stressed out, Baby Girl. Makes me anxious and puts me on offense.”

“Chris, you can't protect me from myself.”

“I can try.”

Rihanna laughed as she leaned up to kiss his lips, “what’s your plans?”

“I came here for you. It’s up to you.”

“I just needed to clear my head, probably should’ve come here alone in that case.”

“That’s very true but you also had an image to upkeep so a certain presence makes sense.”

Rihanna sighed, “can I quit?”

“You can do whatever you want to do. Why are you asking me?”

“Because you’re my conscience right now. Can I quit?”

“Depends on why you want to quit.”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you quitting because you’re done or because you’re running?”

Rihanna went to say something then closed her mouth. Chris gently rubbed her thigh, “I am the last person to be giving advice on anything because I still don’t completely have my shit together but I do know what happens when you make decisions based on fear and not fact. I’ve wasted great opportunities doing it.”

“Like?”

“Our entire relationship. Past and present.”

“We’ve both done it if that’s the case.”

“We have, I just actually acknowledge it.”

“I really have no idea what to do.”

“You could start by stopping selling the public dreams.”

“What?”

“You keep pulling people into your PR antics, and that’s what they are no matter how you try to justify it, for the sake of keeping up an image that the public is comfortable with instead of actually being yourself. You being a savage is a cover. You being this pick ‘em and dump ‘em person is a cover. All a mask. You are selling them a version of you that is not real.”

“How would you know that it’s not real?”

“Because I know you. I know you in ways that the public would never get to know you. That’s why you burn out so quickly. That’s why you can’t commit to whatever you’re doing for so long because you’re not being true to you.”

“You’re only saying that because you’re included in what I want to do.”

“I’m saying it because it’s true. Listen, I’ve been out of the picture for extended periods of time and you still stick to the script. You pick people who you don’t really like because you know that they can’t hurt you. I pick people because they’re easy to get and easy to dismiss. I go for ease. You go for comfort.”

Rihanna sucked her teeth as she folded her arms across her chest, “I don’t agree with that.”

“I can accept that, don't make what I said wrong though.”

“So what about you?”

“What about me? I am a complete and utter fuck up at times, I’m transparent about that. I play games to distract myself and others from reality. I bullshit myself a lot but I know it. I accept it therefore I accept the consequences that come from it. You, on the other hand, not so much.”

“Are you saying that I don’t accept accountability?”

“Yea, pretty much.”

Rihanna pushed off his lap and moved to grab the duffel bag she was holding earlier, “Wow, tell me how you really feel.”

“Baby Girl, if you accept accountability, you wouldn’t be lying and justifying things to anyone, especially not to yourself. You wouldn’t be cleaning out the pictures of a man that you publicly entertained for a year even though you didn’t like him. You wouldn’t be hiding and letting the world turn you into a recluse, just to do what you want to do. You wouldn’t be teasing albums when all you really want to do is make clothes and make up. You’d be upfront and honest regardless of others’ reactions. The fact you haven’t and you can’t even verbally express why without providing justifications for it is exactly why we’re having this conversation. None of this can happen without your participation. You have to be accountable for that.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“That’s fine.”

“And I’d like you to leave.”

“That’s fine too.”

“Are you serious?”

“I didn’t come here to argue with you or make you feel worse but we’ve prided ourselves on being honest with each other thus far so I don’t regret what I’ve said. I’m not judging you because we do what we have to do to survive,” Chris stood up and straightened his pants, “I’ve done worse. I’ve fucked up my life worse so I’m telling you from experience. IF you want to quit, you need to be honest with yourself about why and once you do that, you need to be honest about how you got to this point in the first place. That’s the only way for you to quit in peace because the change of outside circumstances doesn’t get rid of the issues inside you. That much I know for sure even though I’m still figuring out what comes next.”

“And this makes you so much better than me, huh?”

“Absolutely not. I’m still fucking up but I’m honest with myself about why and work on how to not do it again. I backslide every once in a while but I’m human. Maybe if you accepted that part about you, you wouldn’t be working so hard to keep up this image for the world.”

“I went back to you after everything we’ve been through, that wasn’t enough?”

“Wow. I hoped you came back to me because you wanted to, not to make me your redemption story. If loving me was the worst thing you think you’ve done as a human, that’s on you. I think. I’m just your most public mistake. Don’t confuse the two.”

“I never said you were a mistake.”

“Nope but you’re saying it as if our second chance was the only thing you’ve done that others’ didn’t accept. You’re protected but you’re not invincible.”

“Sounds like you want me to fail.”

“I want you to be honest with yourself about who you are so you can stop acting like what you’re pretending to be isn’t a bunch of bullshit. I want you to be successful while being you, the real you.”

“Chris.”

“Rih, Baby Girl, there’s really nothing else to say and I think I’ve pissed you off enough for the night.”

Chris walked over and kissed her cheek before he started walking towards the door, “Tell Mel I said bye. Oh, and you missed a couple pictures on the console.” 

He left.

“You know he’s actually right, Robs. He might be a fuck up sometimes but he’s an honest one,” Melissa said as she walked into the room.

“I’m guessing you heard,” Rihanna replied.

“I did. I thought y’all were about to start arguing so I was standing in the hallway.”

“No need. He doesn’t really like to argue with me anymore.”

“That bothers you.”

“It does.”

“Why?”

“It’s uncomfor-” Rihanna stopped mid-sentence, “Am I really that bad? Do I really avoid accountability like that?”

“Nobody can answer that but you. Maybe you really do need time. I’m not saying to shut down into complete isolation but you need to really think about your life and how you want to live it moving forward. Nobody is saying that the world needs to know everything but at least let what you do decide to let them in on, be honest and true to you. If you don’t want to do music or if you only want to do it on your own time, be honest about it. If you want to date, do it but be honest about it. You can be private without treating your personal life as a secret. The best savages are the honest ones.”

Chris had just pulled into his driveway when his phone rang with a FaceTime call. He put the car in park then slid over the answer key, “Hey Baby Girl.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“But I do. I overreacted and it wasn't fair especially since you came all that way to see me.”

“And you had all right to tell me to leave if you no longer wanted me there. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“Are you home yet?”

“I just pulled into the driveway. What’s up?”

“Can I stop by?”

“Sure. I’ll order something for us.”

“OK. I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“Cool.”

#chrianna shorts

[the-hopeless-haze]

Someone Who, Like it Or Not, Will Want You to Share a Little a Lot

BEING ALIVE Chapter 9

PREVIOUS CHAPTER   

A/N: This is my submission for @thatesqcrush​ kink bingo square praise!kink. Also this chapter went a lot different than I originally planned but it just hit me like a ton of bricks so I hope it’s clear what I’m going for. IDK time to flip the script a little! Also if you saw this posted and disappear it’s because tumblr hates me ok sorry

Content Warning: Smut (ahah) and vague mentions of past abuse (if you’ve been reading the story you know)

Word Count: 5k (sorry lol)

(also how did I never see this gif before fuck me)

“I got you something,” Rafael says. You’re in his office for a lunch break, making sure he eats the salad you’d made for him. Sometimes he still hates you. When you try and shove lettuce down his throat, well, that’s one of those times. But he knows it’s for his own good, like most things you do with him in mind.

“Ooh, we’re doing birthday gifts already?“ you ask, kissing his cheek. "I figured I’d see you later… you’re coming to the restaurant, right? I really don’t think Sonny knows what ‘surprise’ means, but hey. It’s nice of him and the squad.”

“Yes. I know all about it. He hasn’t left me alone for the past two weeks.”

“Nice to know someone cares about me,” you tease, and Rafael rolls his eyes.

“Well, anyway, I figured I’d see you at lunch today, so I brought this one thing with me. I wanted you to wear it tonight. Don’t worry, cariño, you have plenty of other gifts waiting for you at my place.”

“I told you not to go all out. I’m only turning 26. 35 is the next big one.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “35? I thought it was 30?”

"No. I think 30 will be just another one. Everyone makes it a big deal because it ends in a 0, but I don’t think it is. 35 is where the line is crossed. That’s when you’re officially middle-aged,” you say, grinning a little.

“Jesus, so what am I? Ancient?”

“No. You’re still middle-aged,” you giggle. “You’re getting there, though.”

“Mm. Right. Remind me why I spent money on you again?”

“Because…” you drawl, pulling him in by his tie to press your lips to his. And oh, it’s a mesmerizing kiss, like most of them are: one of your hands moves to the back of his head, pulling him in ever closer, and you’re slipping your tongue in his mouth, the acidic tinge of the vinaigrette you had been eating just the jolt he needed to get him to grasp for you. His hands slip under your shirt, earning a gasp from you, but Rafael remembers he’s in his office and the shades aren’t drawn and keeps his hands on your waist. You’re not close enough; you’re never close enough. “That’s why. Right?”

“Right. I forgot,” he snickers, pecking your lips. “Do you want your present or not?”

“Of course, honey.”

So he gets up and pulls out a jewelry box from his desk drawer, taking a deep breath, unsure of why he was so nervous. He smiles awkwardly, walking back over to the table and handing it to you.

“Open it, cariño.”

You do, your hands shaking a little as you unlatch the box, revealing a simple, delicate gold chain with an emerald pendant attached to it. You don’t say anything, your eyes watering as you look up at him.

“Do you not like it?” he asks, cursing himself. He should’ve asked you to pick something else out.

“Rafael, I can’t accept this. How much money was this? I can’t…”

“It doesn’t matter. I bought it for you, and I want you to have it. Do you like it, (y/n)?”

“I love it, Rafael, but it’s too much… I told you not to spend too much.”

Who was counting? He wasn’t above sharing his wealth that he’d worked to accrue. It was nice to be able to give, sometimes, and that was the expectation, wasn’t it? It was your birthday, he was your boyfriend, and he would be damned if he was outdone by anyone on the squad tonight.

"Just let me give this to you. Please,” he says. “And don’t cry.” God, you were always crying. Too much. You were an emotional person, and internalized everything, good or bad. He’d have to talk you out of ways you put yourself down frequently, but lately he’s been finding it hard to be bothered by it, because you’d smile after he smoothed out the knots in your mind, and kiss him like you meant it. “Stand up. Let me put it on.”

“Okay,” you whisper, nodding and getting up. “This is the nicest thing…anyone’s ever bought for me. Don’t think I don’t want it, Rafael, I do, but it’s… I was shocked at first. I don’t want to put you out.”

"Shh,” he says, taking the necklace out of the box and pushing your hair aside. He kisses the back of your neck, placing the necklace on your skin and clasping the hook.

“I like the pendant,” you say, fingering it between your pointer finger and thumb. “It reminds me of your eyes. Thank you so much.”

“I’m glad you like it. I’m not in the habit of buying jewelry, really. I never had anyone to buy anything for, so I didn’t know…”

“You have good taste,” you say, turning around and smiling, but then your face falls a little. “But… Rafael… how long?”

“How long what?”

“How long did you live like that? Alone? I mean, after Yelina, did you ever get that close again?”

He sighs, leaning against the table. He doesn’t want to divulge this, but at the same time he feels like he has to share. “There was a man. I was… 35,” he chuckles mirthlessly. “But we didn’t work out. Guess I didn’t get the memo that that’s when I was supposed to have my shit together. And I just… I just gave up after that. I had flings, but never got that close again.”

"Honey, you know I didn’t mean it like that. I was only joking about the middle-age thing—“

Rafael waves his hand dismissively. “It’s fine, (y/n).”

“You sure?”

“Mm,” he says, putting an arm around your shoulder.

“Eight years is a long time, though.”

"It is… and if I ever seem distant, I don’t mean to be. I’m just used to being alone.”

“I don’t want you to ever get used to that again, honey,” you say, leaning against the table next to him. “You get used to me being here. Soy tuyo y… eres mio.”

He kisses you then, urgently. God, you were going to start talking to him in Spanish now? Even if all you knew was elementary level, he was a goner.

He doesn’t have much time to dwell on that thought, because Carisi’s knocking on the door. “Sorry to interrupt, Counselor, but I need to borrow the birthday girl,” he says, smiling brightly in that annoying way he always did. “We need her more than you right now.”

"What happened? I told Olivia an hour,” you ask, taking Rafael’s hand in your own as he pulls away from your mouth.

“Yeah, well, you know you can ask for an hour… but that doesn’t mean you’re gonna get it. She told me to come pick you up. We got a lead, and if you wanna get out by dinner…”

You roll your eyes at Sonny, then glance at Rafael. "Looks like I have to cut this short. Bye, honey,” you say, kissing him. “Make sure you eat your salad.”

“Yeah, Barba. Gotta get those greens in,” Carisi chuckles as you both give him a look. “What? It’s cute that you worry about his health. My ma, she’s always on my father about taking his meds, and she cooks for him, makes sure he goes for walks.”

“Well, I can’t have Rafael dying on me,” you say, putting on your coat. “I’d miss him too much.” You flash Rafael a smile, heading out with Carisi’s arm around your shoulder.

Sometimes he still feels a pang in his chest when he sees you with Carisi. Things seemed so easy between the two of you, so simple, like you’d been friends for decades as opposed to the months Carisi had been on the SVU. And Carisi was still annoying, God, the man never shut up about anything, and his off-color comments were more than eyebrow-raising at times. In some ways, Carisi was your work-husband, and Rafael supposes that’s to be expected. Partners got close, maybe even closer than some legal marriages.

Another reason why it was a sham. Right? Just because you didn’t have a ring on your finger or his last name didn’t mean you weren’t close to him.

But you could always be closer. Too close for comfort. Wake up next to him every day, brush your teeth in the bathroom next to him while he shaves, argue with him about not taking the trash out on time or something equally mundane. Sounds like hell. Sounds like monotony. Sounds like settling, maybe more on your part than his.

Because who would be able to marry you and call that settling?

Aside from the fact that marriage was always a risk for settling - because what are the odds you pick the right stranger off the streets of New York to bind yourself to for the rest of your life? Another hundred people were always getting off trains, getting on buses, leaving crowded streets to catch planes into or out of this city.

Rafael, though, he was always staying in the same place.

And, even though it may be insignificant in the grand scheme of things, the fact remains that somewhere on some paper in that precinct, your name is next to Carisi’s, billing you as partners. There was no such record of you and Rafael anywhere, not even a Facebook status. And that? From a legal standpoint, if one wanted to be crude, you two were nothing more than friends who fucked. Even if you did live together (which you didn’t) common law marriage wasn’t legal in New York.

So. Legally, if you went down that convoluted path, maybe you were closer to Carisi.

Rafael isn’t sure what to think about that. He’s over the jealousy; it’s been long enough now that he trusts you not to do anything stupid, and as much as Rafael hates to admit it he believes Carisi’s too set in his morals to even look at you suggestively. But it’s still something to think about, isn’t it?

——

“You look gorgeous,” Rafael whispers in your ear, helping you zip up your dress. You did; clad in a crushed velvet emerald long-sleeve number - yet another thing Rafael shelled out money for - and there’s a sense of pride in seeing it match perfectly with the necklace he’d gifted you earlier. “But I already can’t wait to bring you back here.”

“Mm, is that yet another present, honey?” you ask, pressing back against him. “You’ve really been spoiling me.”

“You’ve been a good girl. You deserve it,” he says, chuckling as you shiver.

“We’re gonna be late. Not nice to tease me,” you pout.

“I’ll make it up to you tenfold. Put your shoes on.”

The restaurant is nicer than Rafael thought the squad would pick out when they mentioned this idea to him a few weeks ago, but he has half a mind that they thought Rafael would help cover most of the bill. Which he did, as expected. Give a little, get a lot. Something like that. Like it or not, he’s dating the birthday girl, and he’s expected to be more giving than usual. By you, too, of course, even if you would never voice that assumption. He couldn’t very well buy himself suits that cost two grand for no reason and justify not spending the same amount or more on you on special occasions.

“Hey, happy birthday! Surprise!” Carisi says as you get to the table.

You roll your eyes at him before hugging him. “You said happy birthday to me, like, what? Twenty times today? It’s not a surprise anymore. But thank you.”

“Hey. Dream team. Had to do something for the best pardna in the world,” he says.

“Well, damn, Barba, you got (y/n) dressing to the nines too, now,” Amanda says when she sees you, smiling and squeezing your shoulder gently. “I feel underdressed now.”

“Nah, you look beautiful, Amanda,” you tell her, grinning back. “Blue’s your color.”

“Green’s definitely yours.”

This is the first time the whole squad has gone out with Rafael present since they found out for certain that the two of you were dating, and Rafael isn’t quite sure what to make of the atmosphere. He still feels excluded as the only lawyer present at a table full of detectives, and he thought maybe a known tie to you would change that, but it doesn’t, not much. Everyone falls into telling stories, and tonight they mostly concern you - but Rafael has none he wants to share even if maybe you expect him to contribute to the conversation.

What could he say that they didn’t already know?

Besides, what the hell did they think about him? He can only imagine what went through their heads once it was confirmed that he was dating you.

Isn’t he a little bit, well… too much of a smartass? Tacky, in the sense that he’s still that same kid from the barrio trying to fit in with the upper-class of New York with expensive suits and a brass ego? Old? Short? Aggressive (maybe more so passively)? Neurotic? Peculiar? Depressing?

God, he’s practically old enough to be your father.

Everyone was always trying to set you up with someone before they knew you weren’t single, whether it be Sonny with his Fordham buddies or Amanda with her men from god-knows-where or even Olivia one time with a sergeant from a different department. Maybe it’s because you’re beautiful, and beautiful people don’t stay single for long (unless, perhaps, if they were surly and standoffish, which you weren’t in the slightest). You’re a charmer, even if you don’t necessarily mean to be. A flirt without quite realizing it, without being too much of a threat. Pleasant to be around. Easy to like. A little shy, a little rough around the edges, a little stoic at first, sure, but that was easily overlooked and if someone put in the time, you were an open book.

It was easy to pity you. Maybe that shouldn’t be how he sees you, but sometimes he just can’t help but feel so damn bad given everything that’s happened to you. And he knows that’s how the squad feels too. Sure, you could handle yourself on your own, but no one wanted to let you. It’s in Olivia’s eyes when she looks at you sympathetically, it’s in Amanda’s hand when she squeezes your shoulder, it’s in Carisi’s insistence on putting himself in harms’ way so you wouldn’t ever have to take the fall: Poor baby. We’re the only tenderness you’ve ever known.

And maybe that’s true, maybe this squad was the only kind of lasting kindness you’d ever been shown. You don’t talk much about your past, and that’s fair, because Rafael doesn’t think there’s much that would be pleasant to recount. After the rape, middle school was difficult for you, as was to be expected, and you didn’t have many friends that stuck around. He’s never heard you say a word about high school, and sure, college was probably a lot better than the hell you’d been through before, but you had no one you kept in contact with from there, not even the woman you mentioned sleeping with before. Maybe life hasn’t handed you all the wrong cards: you’re gorgeous, you’re intelligent, you’re great at your job.

But in the interpersonal sphere, you’re lacking, maybe as sorely as Rafael, and that’s something he never quite thought about until now. You didn’t wear it like he did though, and you still had hope, somehow, whereas Rafael’s supplies of optimism had been used up over the years. Maybe one day you’d run out, too.

Leave it to Rafael to bring the melancholy to a birthday party.

But you wouldn’t bring the squad home; you couldn’t. On the nights you didn’t spend at Rafael’s or the nights he didn’t spend at your apartment, you were as alone as he was. He wonders, did you sit there and stare at the walls, struggle to sleep without him by your side… or did you not care?

“Honey, I was talking about you,” you say, giggling a little, and he feels your hand on his shoulder bring him back to the present. “You’ve been out of it, tonight, huh? Anyway, I was going to ask if you’d tell them about your theatre productions—“

“Oh, Jesus, (y/n), why the hell are you going to bring that shit up?” he asks, feeling a slight blush creep up his neck. “I told you about that in confidence.”

“Oh, come on. It’s cute.”

“Yeah, come on, Barba. She’s the birthday girl. You gotta do what she says,” Carisi chimes in.

Rafael glares at him and sighs. "Fine.”

“Floor is yours, Counselor,” Amanda says, winking. “Maybe you can sing for us, too.”

“Fine. I was in theatre in middle and high school. Happy?” he snaps. He knows he shouldn’t be so mean, and this was trivial, but he could do without the little jabs from the squad and your puppy-dog eyes.

“Why do you have to be like that, Rafi?” you ask. “Come on. Tell them the production in eighth grade.”

“This really means that much to you?“

"Will you just tell the story?” you ask. “No one will make fun of you, honey. I won’t let them.”

“Mm. Right. Well, my school couldn’t get the licensing rights to anything actually good that year for the Christmas musical… so we did A Christmas Peter Pan. It was about as awful as you think it would be.”

“What part did you play?” Olivia asks. Of course she’s the only one at the table who’s not tittering with laughter.

“I didn’t try out soon enough, and they didn’t have any parts left… so I played the crocodile.”

Amanda damn near spits out her drink, and Rafael rolls his eyes as Carisi laughs heartedly and Fin and Nick try and fail to not crack teasing smiles.

“I just really can’t picture that, Barba. Damn,” Carisi says after he calms down. “How bad was the costume?”

“What do you think a middle school theatre department could put together?” Rafael asks, narrowing his eyes. “Anyway. I didn’t have any lines, at least.”

“No, but you had three scary entrances,” you tease, grinning brightly and squeezing his shoulder. “Hey. It was your debut. I can’t wait until I get your mother to show me pictures—“

“Send them to me,” Amanda says. “I’m begging you.”

“I’m going to get my mother to burn that scrapbook before you’re ever in its vicinity,” Rafael mutters, chuckling.

“Aw, come on, honey, don’t be like that. You know I’d never let Amanda see them. Sonny, maybe—“

“Hey!” Amanda interjects while Rafael shoots you a withering look.

“No, I wouldn’t let him see them either. Some things are actually meant to be shared in confidence,” you laugh. “But anyway, Rafael went on to bigger and better things. He played Kenickie in Grease sophomore year, right? And you got the lead senior year?”

“Mm. Nathan Detroit. Guys and Dolls.”

“I have no idea what that is,” Carisi says.

“Of course you don’t,” Rafael retorts.

“It was a big part. He says his mother has a tape of that somewhere—“

“Are you trying to kill me, (y/n)?” Amanda asks exasperatedly. “The knowledge that that’s on film and I’ll never see it?”

“Mm. Deal with it. That’s not the one you wanna make fun of though,” you say. “Rafael can sing. He never will in front of you guys now, but he can.”

Right. Little things he’d shared with you, maybe without even meaning to, and now you could list them off as nonchalantly as if you were talking about yourself. Did any of his ex-lovers ever bother to learn all his amateur theatre roles front to back?

Thankfully, the waitress brings the cake over after a few minutes, saving him from more humiliation, and everyone, even Rafael, obliges and sings ‘Happy Birthday’ to you before you blow out the candles.

“Well, our blessings, (y/n),” Olivia says, grinning.

“Don’t tell your wish or it won’t come true,” Fin chuckles.

“Actually… I didn’t wish for anything,” you say, shrugging.

“What do you mean, you didn’t wish for anything?” Carisi asks.

“Tell, but lie,” Nick says.

“Nah. I’ve got everything I want. Thank you for including me in your thoughts, your lives—“

“Aww. Stay exactly as you are, (y/n),” Carisi says, reaching over to squeeze your hand. “What a sweetheart, huh, Barba?”

“Everyone adores you, (y/n),” Amanda laughs. “What an awful thing.”

Yeah. Everyone did adore you - but you weren’t an unshakable tenant in anyone’s life.

And, come to think of it, neither was Rafael. Rafael was always confused as to why the hell you even approached him all those months ago, flirted with him, got him to buy you dinner… but fuck, it was clear now. You were alone, grasping at straws just like he was. A couple months in the city you dreamed of living in since you were a child provided you with nothing more than acquaintances you worked and occasionally got drunk with, and maybe it was human nature to want more than that.

Yet here you were insisting that you didn’t wish for anything. What the hell? Didn’t you want more than what Rafael was giving you? Shouldn’t you?

Fuck if he knows. He’s not even sure what he wants anymore, never mind what you want.

——

Rafael has never been above sharing his body for someone else’s pleasure. It felt good to give in this regard, and fuck it, if anyone deserved to have a good, healthy sex life it was you.

It had been a long road to get you comfortable - yes, the first time you had sex with him you were more than a willing participant - but he’d notice sometimes when he initiated things, you would space out and become unresponsive. That was absolutely not going to work for him. He’s been prosecuting sex crimes long enough for that to turn his stomach in the worst way. The last thing he’d want is to take advantage of someone who was lying underneath him just because they thought it would appease him, not because they genuinely wanted to be there.

You got mad at him the first time he brought it up; said he was reading too much into things - but eventually you came around and admitted what had made you uncomfortable, what had turned you off, what had made you freeze, and what it came down to was years of trauma that no one had bothered to work through, not even yourself. What started with the rape went on to college boys who wouldn’t keep their hands to themselves and tried to pressure you when you weren’t ready - and you’d never quite learned to say no. You said you didn’t want to share this, didn’t want him to think you were some perpetual victim or that you didn’t enjoy sex - because you had had positive sexual experiences aside from Rafael, obviously - but sometimes all it took was a touch in the wrong place and you shut down. You still had issues here and there, but at least you’d actually fucking talk to him now, which was progress. He would’ve thought for an SVU detective with a psychology degree this wouldn’t be an issue, but maybe it’s how it goes - you put all your energy out there for the victims and you never learn how to unlearn your own toxic thought cycles and behaviors.

Also, Rafael learned, through trial and error, that you liked to be praised. Maybe it was after years of being ashamed of your body and sex, after years of feeling like you were inexperienced because you never met anyone worth having experiences with… but it was almost like you got off on it and Rafael wouldn’t really mind if that was the case. You are a good girl - his good girl - especially now, as he’s sitting at his desk chair in his apartment and you’re riding his thigh, your dress ridden up to your waist. Your lips are kiss-bruised and you’re so wet he can feel you seep through your panties to his dress pants.

Fuck it if you ruined them. Fuck it if you ruined him.

“Yes, good girl, you gonna get off on my thigh, (y/n)?” he asks, his voice low in your ear.

“I don’t know if I can,” you laugh. “Might need some assistance.”

“No, I think you can. Want you to try it. You think you’re close, mi buena chica?”

“Mm, don’t know. I didn’t think I was gonna have to work this hard on my birthday,” you say, leaning down to kiss his mouth. “Don’t you think those hands could be of good use somewhere?”

“Maybe. Where do you want them?“

"Mm, fucking everywhere,” you drawl.

For Rafael, sex was always just fun. Usually, it was better if he knew the person at least a little, but after Yelina, he didn’t care as much and was a little more of a libertine. Sex with you, though; it’s different - it’s a conversation - maybe like it’s supposed to be, sharing what you can’t or what you won’t say with words.

Maybe he should feel more flattered, because you were sharing a lot, too.

Rafael gives you what you want, though, cupping your breasts as he kisses you, murmuring words of encouragement in your ear in between - “Yes, just like that, you can do it, come for me, such a good girl, come on, cariño” - and when you do finally fall apart, he peppers your face with kisses. “See? I told you.”

“Mm. Sometimes you’re right,” you giggle, kissing the side of his mouth. “But I’m not working that hard for the next orgasm.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckles.

And you don’t; Rafael brings you over the edge with his tongue and fingers, but you’ve barely come down from your high before he’s on his back, at your mercy instead.

“What are you doing? Didn’t think you wanted to work for it anymore,” he teases as you press kisses on his chest.

“Nah, you’re gonna fuck me, hombre, but I want to do something for you first,” you purr, trailing down lower, lower, lower…

“It’s your birthday–”

“Mm. Yeah. But now I just guaranteed that you have to go down on me on yours,” you giggle. “No. We’re not counting favors here, right? Just let me.”

And you’re so good. You always are, but every time just seems to get better as you learn more of what he likes, what gets him off. He wonders vaguely if he you feel that way too, but he doesn’t have much time to dwell on that as your lips wrap around his cock. “Fuck, so good, (y/n),” he hisses. If he wasn’t almost painfully hard before he definitely is now. “That’s it, oh fuck.”

One of your hands comes to cup his balls gently as your tongue and lips work his cock and it’s hard to remember that you were ever tentative giving him a blowjob before. Maybe that’s the thing about sex; everyone thinks they need experience to be a good lover, but maybe they don’t. Maybe they just need to listen to their partner. Rafael’s slept with people who have slept with countless numbers of people but no one’s ever learned his body like you, and your count was much lower. Granted, Rafael never quite allowed himself this type of vulnerability with anyone else in recent history, either, but it was only fair that if some of your walls came down some of his did as well.

Still, he has to make sure you know that by gasping out praise and encouragement, tangling his hands in your hair, being careful not to pull too harshly. “Fuck, so good at that, sucking my cock so good, se buena, mm, fuck.”

Eventually, though, Rafael can feel that he’s dangering the brink and has to stop you. Switching positions again - you’re on your back for him now - and he’s lining up his cock with your pussy, making sure you’re still good. With your consent, he enters you, groaning softly at finally feeling you wet and warm around his cock.

“God, you’re fucking gorgeous, you know that?” he grunts as he starts fucking in and out of you, slowly at first.

“I’d hope you think so,” you say.

“Think - no. You are. Fucking gorgeous.”

Your cheeks flush a little and he can’t believe you still get flustered when he tells you that. But you are a vision - hair splayed on his pillow, your breasts heaving in tandem with your breath, your skin shining with a slight sheen of perspiration. Yeah. Fucking gorgeous.

And, oh fuck, now you’re clawing at his back, scratching with your nails. A shiver runs down his spine as he fucks into you harder, “That good?”

“Fuck, yeah, Rafael, fuck me,” you whine and he leans down to press a searing kiss to your mouth.

“Mm, so pretty, taking my cock so well, cosita bonita, so good for me,” he rasps in your ear.

You’re meeting him thrust for thrust; the only sounds Rafael can hear is the slap of skin on skin and his heart pounding in his ears as he kisses up and down your neck. “Mm, Rafael, feels so good,” you purr, and yeah, now he can see why you get off on those simple words of encouragement.

It’s not long before the two of you reach your highs and come down, a panting, tangled mess twisted up in his bedsheets. “Mm. Feliz cumpleaños, cariño.”

“Yeah, happy birthday to me,” you laugh, leaning over to snuggle against his chest. “Fuck, I’m exhausted now.”

“Thought I was supposed to be the old one.”

“Like you could go for another round right now.”

“Try me, mujer,” he chuckles. “Shower?”

“In a minute,” you giggle. “Let my heart rate come down a little.”

The two of you lay there in silence, your breathing rates settling while Rafael’s mind sets off to the races again. You were right, earlier, eight years was a fucking long time and it didn’t get any easier to be alone.

It doesn’t get any easier to be with someone, either, though, like when you wake him up too early in the morning and ruin his precious sleep, or when you make snide remarks that ruin his day and bruise his ego or, worst of all, as always: when you see right through him, like the front he puts up just doesn’t exist.

Maybe, though, maybe he’s a masochist because god forbid you leave. Here he was, carving out hours of his precious time; time he used to tell his mother he never had to spare, and sharing it with you. And you wanted him to.

Rafael doesn’t know what the hell to make of that.

Tag list: @caked-crusader​ @thatesqcrush​ @law-nerd105​ @arabellathorne​ @blackeyedangel9805​ @moon-river-drifter

#rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x you #barba x reader #barba x you #raul esparza #ada rafael barba #svu fanfiction #svu #law and order svu #rafael barba #law and order special victims unit #law and order: special victims unit #thatesqcrush kink bingo

[officialthiamlibrary]

Got any canon fics set post 6B?

Here you go! A mix of older fics and some within the last month, I hope you’ll enjoy them!

Ocean Front Property and Yoda Wisdom by Diary (Teen | Complete | 1.3K) Tags: Frenemies, angst and feels Summary: Post-canon. Theo has issues, Stiles cares about Liam, and these facts interconnect. Complete. A Peek Inside: “I still don’t like or trust you. Okay, I never will. But you’ve been good for him. And I gotta admit, seeing you in love is an interesting thing.”

Hold Me. I’ve Lost My Anchor. by SterekShipper (General | Complete | 5K) Tags: Hurt/comfort, angst, there is a second fic that follows this one Summary: Once again Liam and Theo had been in a fight. There was nothing unusual about that. It happened all the time. It was a natural part of their relationship. This fight however, had a different ending. A Peek Inside: It was just a fight. There was never a reason. Not really. Their relationship consisted of bickering and playful jibes. A bond had formed the night of the hospital. The night Theo had faced the Ghost Riders head on, fully intending to sacrifice himself. All to save him.

Stones by cherrysprite (General | Complete | 2.6K) Tags: First kiss, Theo introspection Summary: Theo begins to find his place as a normal nineteen year old with an accidental rock collection. A Peek Inside: One day, he sees a man sitting outside that said cafe, playing his guitar softly while people walk past without a second thought. It’s one of the more jarring parts of Theo’s detachment, he realizes. If he were normal, he would be able to grasp how people managed to pick up on hobbies and skills. It was like Mason and his love of reading, Corey and his talent with writing, and Liam spending his weekends playing lacrosse or working out. He just always finds himself perplexed at how they’d each figured out that what they were doing was good to them.

in the hospital after the war by snaeken (General | Complete | 1.5K) Tags: Summary: "I can wipe the blood off my own face, Liam," he snarks, mainly because he doesn't know what else to do; because it's comfortable, familiar, as far as the two of them are concerned. He doesn't pull away though. "I know. But I want to." Liam looks up at him, ocean blue eyes boring into his own. Theo's breath would probably catch, if he was breathing at all. "Let me." A Peek Inside: The hospital is, well. A bit like the aftermath of a warzone. Doctors and nurses and deputies everywhere, armed with handcuffs and body bags, making arrests and treating the wounded; Theo's own wolfsbane-laced bullet wound in his shoulder was treated by Deaton, while Liam regrouped with his pack and had his own wounds treated by Argent.

it’s you, sweet baby by axebastard (Teen | Complete | 1.9K) Tags: Pining, getting together Summary: In which Theo eats a s'more for the first time and Liam isn't quite as subtle as he'd like to be. A Peek Inside: Theo blinked, one corner of his mouth twitching. So Liam was inviting him somewhere. On purpose. He didn't know whether to feel honored or suspicious.

To Take One’s Pain by Endraking (Teen | Complete | 2.5K) Tags: Minor character death, angst, sick children Summary: Liam wanders the Hospital as he does a sweep. Memories come back to him about Theo since the chimera hadn't been seen since Gabe died and Monroe fled. While walking the halls, Liam learns something that will change his perspective about Theo. A Peek Inside: Liam walked the halls of Beacon Memorial Hospital.  It wasn't that long ago that it was a battleground and not a place for the sick and injured to heal.  Memories of those times, memories of hunters killing supernaturals, memories of the Riders, memories of the chimera and the Dread Doctors pull him to wander the halls.  He's not a patient though he would garner a little less attention if he put on one of the hospital gowns.  The lights were dimmed, something the hospital did either to save money or remind some of the more active patients that it was indeed nighttime.  He moved down one hall to the next, walking up the stairs and repeating the process until he makes it to the roof.  Then he hopped into the elevator and repeated.  He was making sweeps of the hospital, but it wasn't from any present issue but his worry over his stepfather.  Doing sweeps in the preserve was one thing but it was almost too easy for the pack to forget that things attack the hospital regularly and Melissa and Dr. Geyer were right in the line of fire.  That brought him to the halls, but his mind was a million miles away as he wandered to the morgue

i know all sorts of things i don't believe by eneiryu (Explicit | Complete | 80K) Tags: Post finale, Theo Raeken centric, getting together, pack dynamics Summary: So, anyway. That’s how Theo becomes pack-mom to Scott’s merry band of supernatural misfits. A Peek Inside: Scott gets this narrow-eyed look like he knows what Theo’s thinking, but humors him regardless, “I was hoping you’d agree to stay here, help protect the town.” (...) “Okay,” Theo blurts out, cutting him off before he can speak, suddenly irrationally afraid that Scott‘s going to take it back, say nevermind, forget it, “Just until you find Monroe, right?” Scott nods, still looking perturbed but thankfully silent, “Okay. I’ll stay until then.”

you want me to hold your hand and kiss it better? by xxDreamFilledEyesxx (Mature | Complete | 3.9K) Tags: angst and feels Summary: Set after the Teen Wolf series finale: After taking Gabe's pain away, Theo thought Liam might be glad to see that he cares, so why has he been acting so strange? A Peek Inside: A few feet away stood Melissa, her face covered in pity for the life the boy on the floor had lost in a war that wasn’t his to fight. Theo's heart skipped a beat as his gaze turned to the person standing next to her. Liam.

Sun Is Up, I’m A Mess by IThinkWeHaveAnEmergency (General | Complete | 5.1K) Tags: College, mutual pining Summary: Liam transfers to San Francisco State and on his first day, runs into a face he hasn't seen in a long time. A Peek Inside: Liam steps closer to the man he hasn't seen in almost two years, his campus security guard uniform clear.

A Chimera’s First Heart by Auddieliz09 (Mature | Complete | 22K) Tags: Mild smut, first kiss Summary: Theo wouldn’t go so far as to say that everything is perfect in the months after the War, but, for him, it’s just about as perfect as his life can get. However, when someone from his past shows up on Scott's doorstep, Theo's life takes a new turn. But will it be for better or worse? A Peek Inside: When they left the hospital that night, Liam had looked at him in a way he never had before. Like he was seeing Theo for the first time without his past hanging over him. He was seeing Theo for the man he was trying to become. A man worthy of being his friend, maybe more. Theo became an official ally to the pack and began to hang out with Liam and his friends.

five punch knock out by I_write_fanfiction_sometimes (Teen | Complete | 2.4K) Tags: 5+1 Summary: Five times Liam asked what he was doing, and one time the answer was 'being happy' A Peek Inside: Theo squeezes his eyes shut and barely holds back a groan. Mint foam drips into the sink from the handle of his toothbrush and burns around the edge of his mouth. Of course it had to be Liam. Fucking Mason wouldn’t ask questions, he’d just walk right back out. Somehow though, Liam has decided he wasn’t scary.

Change of Plans by never_love_a_wild_thing (Teen | Complete | 69K) Tags: Fake relationship, light angst Summary: When Hayden breaks up with Liam minutes before his very public proposal was planned, Theo steps up to save him the embarrassment of being rejected in front of the pack. In order not to disappoint their Alpha, Theo and Liam decide to carry on faking their relationship until they can think of a good way to end it and keep everybody happy. In which Theo is crushing hard and neither of them plan things out well enough (or at all, really). A Peek Inside: Theo opened his mouth and then shut it quickly. He had argued with Liam over Hayden too many times to think that it was worth it anymore. “I just think that you should maybe figure out how she feels about it before you go and ask her to marry you in front of your entire pack,” he said.

Only you can look at me the way you do by merrythoughts, ReallyMissCoffee (Explicit | Complete | 57K) Tags: Smut Summary: But Liam knows that tonight's gonna be one of the nights where he caves in and he doesn't care. A Peek Inside: They hadn't turned up anything so why not blow off some steam and then check back later? Scott'll never know the difference.

The Truth Will Set You Free by tabbytabbytabby (Teen | Complete | 1.6K) Tags: Light angst, misunderstandings Summary: Theo realizes he has feelings for Liam, but before he can tell him he sees Liam with a girl from his class and assumes they're dating, and that Liam could never be interested in him. He makes a decision to help himself find some peace, but first, he needs to tell Liam how he feels. Liam's response surprises him. A Peek Inside: A normal morning in mid-March, standing in the Geyer’s kitchen, watching as Liam tried and mostly failed at making pancakes. He’d stood there with pancake batter all over himself, looking sleep-rumpled and adorable and the thought just struck Theo so suddenly.

The Curse of Batman and Robin by songbvrd (No Rating | Complete | 10K) Tags: Bodyswap Summary: Liam and Theo are friends. Sort of. They live together and spend a lot of time together, but they also fight. Constantly. When a body swapping curse leaves them having to pretend to be each other, shenanigans ensue. A Peek Inside: It never lasted, because as annoyed as he was by Theo, he did also like him. He would never tell him that, god forbid the already painfully egotistical chimera get another boost on his account.

The Big Bad Chimera by OTP_fandom_shipper (Teen | Complete | 643) Tags: Fluff Summary: Theo falls asleep on Liam's shoulder, so he takes a picture. Needless to say, Theo is not very happy and wants it deleted. Que the "wrestling" session in the living room. A Peek Inside: Theo arrived back at Liam’s around 5:00. The beta’s family had been gracious enough to let Theo stay with them after they found out that he had been living in his truck. He did get a job not too long ago since he had graduated high school and wanted to make his own money. He was saving to get a place of his own. Theo didn’t want to stay too long with the Geyers.

Touch my neck and I’ll touch yours by voices_in_my_head (Mature | Complete | 7.3K) Tags: Pornstar Theo Summary: ""And you, Theo, what did you do during the week?" Scott asks, clearly trying to bring him into the conversation, which no one has done aside from Liam (they talked about the new The Good Place episode, because surprise surprise, Theo got addicted to Netflix once he found out what it was) and Corey (who actually seems to enjoy Theo's presence and Liam knows they've hanged out just the two of them. Which he obviously is not jealous about, pff, why would he be? Corey has a boyfriend. ... And Liam isn't interested in Theo that way, obviously.) Theo smirks before answering, to which Liam's heart does a slight jump, hoping that no one noticed or, if they did, will be kind enough to pretend otherwise. "I did a porno."" A Peek Inside: Liam isn't entirely sure how he feels about it. Theo seems to really have turned a new leaf, and Liam is pretty sure he would have died in the hospital if he hadn't been there, but he also can't forget the way he played them all, the way Liam almost killed Scott because of him.

#fic recs #fanfiction #canon future #post season 6b #mod: mary #mod: tara #otlansweredask

[lizzy-williams]

𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦

Part 1

((This is about Colson Baker’s character in Project Power, he has fire powers, imma have a field day with his one. Because he had very little backstory, I feel like I can kinda shape him and imagine his life with someone. Hee hee. By the way, in my stories he doesn’t... you know... explode.

🔥Warnings: Language, drug references, sexual references

🔥Theme Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZBIzL1OdKMI

Fire by KIDS SEE GHOSTS

masterlist

𝘠𝘖𝘜 𝘒𝘕𝘌𝘞 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘛 Newt was a drug dealer, that’s actually how you met. You were just buying weed, and the next second you were back at his place, hooking up. You kinda just kept... coming back, until eventually, he was willing to call you his girlfriend. 

He liked you because you were carefree like him. You had the same interests, liked the same things, and were rockstars in the sexual department. You were the best he’s ever had and vise versa. You even thought his alligator was fucking awesome, the girls he hooked up with in the past just ran away. But you found it cool that he owned a living, breathing gator. 

He made good business, not to mention the fact that he flew under the radar. He was very underground. And that was perfect for you. You didn’t need him getting arrested for a fucking gram of cocaine. 

But one-night Newt went out, and you stayed at his place, anxiously waiting for his return. He said that there was a new product, something people had never seen before. And if Newt, the man who had tried every drug he got his hands on said that he hadn’t heard of it, there was definitely something worth seeing there. 

You suddenly heard a knocking at the door, the rhythmic knocking recognized as the secret knock you and Newt came up with to signal that it was one of you. You got up, grabbing the pistol that was laying on the coffee table, and rushed to the door, unlocking it immediately. 

Newt burst in the door, looking behind him anxiously as he closed the door frantically behind him. 

“Newt, what’s wrong? Were you followed?” you questioned anxiously, automatically pointing the pistol at the door. 

“Lock it, baby, I have something amazing to show you,” he motioned in your direction, your feet patting back towards the door, locking the 4 locks on the door quickly. 

You then jogged over to where Newt had set his goods. 

“Ooo, fancy metal case, huh?” you joked, “What are you? The Matrix? Men in Black?” 

“You’re joking now, but wait till you see what’s in here,” he smirked, taking a key out of his pocket, unlocking the case. 

As he opened it, you looked at what was placed inside. There were two rows of metal containers, 6 in each row, holding a small, slightly glowing pill. 

You picked one up, looking at it closely. One half was grey, almost metallic, the other half looking like a mini glowing galaxy. You shook it a little, “What is this?”

“It’s Power.” he replied, “I’ve been hearing about these things for weeks. They give you power for 5 whole minutes. Like a superpower. We’re talking like superman shit. But there are catches,” he took the case out of your hand, taking the pill out of the case and held between his fingers vertically. 

“What’s the catch?”

“You never know what power you’ll get. It’s different... for everyone. Like I could be invisible, while you have...like bulletproof or something. It’s real, I’ve seen it.”

“Are you sure this isn’t some sugar water in a pill casing?” you were skeptical, the concept of superpowers almost childish. 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, pulling up a video. You took the phone from his hand and pressed play, and you were presented with a man. It looked like it was in an airport runway. 

You saw him hold a pill up, and twist it, the pill lighting up like a lightbulb before it disappeared down his throat. You watched as his body twitched, his body kneeling down. But after a few seconds, he stood back up. Suddenly, you watched a mere man, run up and down a runway in 30 seconds flat. He did it several more times, back and forth, back and forth, before the video ended.

“Holy shit, was that real?” 

“Shit, baby, I wish you could have been there. I saw it with my own eyes, it was like watching The X-Men but in real life.”

“Are there any other catches?”

Newt knew the other side effect... but he didn’t want to tell you, as not to make you worry. So in return, he shook his head.

“How much are they?” You questioned. 

“500.”

“For the case??” you were shocked at the amount of money, more than you could make from even heroin.

“No. Per pill,” he looked at the small pill between his fingers then back to you. 

“Per pill??!!” You beamed, “Holy shit, baby! In that case... that’s... 6,000 dollars!” you watched as he put the pill back in the case. 

“I know, and there are more getting shipped in to me tomorrow, delivered personally...,” he smirked, your arms were thrown around his neck, pulling him down for a passionate kiss, as you felt him chuckle, the vibrations making you all the happier. 

“I can pay for school!” you smiled, “And we can get you a new car...” you began to daydream, as Newt smiled at you, his lips colliding to yours again. 

“This is amazing...” You muttered against his lips before pulling away, “Have you tried it?” 

“Not yet...,” he smirked, “But do you wanna come with me when I do?”

“When?” you laughed. 

“Now,” he responded, you squealed as he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, walking out of the apartment and to his car. 

******

“Where are we going?” you asked, turning to Newt in the driver’s seat, his eyes on the road ahead, the sky dark. 

“Somewhere safe. Just until the effects of the pill pass,” he responded, his anxiety apparent. 

“Are you sure you wanna try this?” you asked, your hand going to his knee, “I don’t want you to get hurt,”

“I’ll be fine, baby, I swear.” he ensured. 

You simply nodded your head. Even though this small pill was going to make you and him a lot of money, you were still skeptical about your lover trying it. 

The car then pulled into an empty parking garage, driving to the top floor, and then stopped. 

“You still got it?” he turned to you, turning the car off. 

You nodded, opening the glove compartment and taking out the pill’s case, holding the thing that was supposed to change your lives forever. 

“Maybe it can give you more stamina, maybe keep you going after round 2,” You smirked, Newt looking at you and rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, well, whatever it does, it’ll probably be pretty cool.”

You both stepped out of the car, Newt walking a ways away from you, making you frown.

“I don’t want you close, just in case something goes wrong, okay?” 

“Wait why would something go wrong??” you asked anxiously.

“I don’t know what powers there are... or how many there are. I don’t want something unexpected and hurt you.” 

Before you could respond, he twisted it, the pill glowing brightly as he held it in his teeth, “See you on the flip side,” he joked, before swallowing it, wincing in anticipation. 

He started coughing, dropping down to his knees, starting to hold where his heart was, his other hand going to his heart as he let out a yell of anguish.

You watched Newt convulse, letting out coughs and yells of pain. You began to rush towards him, but he stopped you.

“Stay back, stay back,” he coughed out, yelling out more in agony.

In seconds, you saw his body become ignite into horrifying, bright orange flames. His clothes were burned away to a crisp. The fire on his skin crackling and snapping as the screams and yells began dying down to pain-laced grunts as the form of his body began to stand up, making your hand cover your mouth, your eyes tearing up in fear. 

You had to watch him...for 5 whole minutes... watching his stumble around, waiting until the pain died down. Until the fire went out. Until it was over. 

His body suddenly collapsed to the ground, the fire dulling down to glowing embers on his skin. 

You couldn’t take it anymore, your legs carrying you as fast as they could to the charred body of your lover. 

“Baby? Baby can you hear me?” you were sobbing, half of his body crispy, covered in black remanence of skin. 

He let out groans of pain, his body barely moving. 

You ran quickly to the car, opening the back and pulling out an old blanket, running back and wrapping his body up in it. You tried to set him up, but all he did was yell out in pain. 

“Come on, Newt, I’m gonna get you to a hospital, but you gotta help me!” you cried, trying to lift if the skyscraper-like body over your shoulders, “Please, Newt, come on!” 

With all the strength left in his body, he tried to hoist himself up, but only enough to drape over your shoulders as you literally dragged him over to the car. You opened the back door, laying him down in the back seats, him groaning out in pain. 

“You gotta stay awake, okay, Newt?” You panicked, “Just blink twice if you can, okay?”

You watched as his body responded, his eyes closing two times, making you nod and run to the driver’s side, getting in and starting the car. 

“Babe...” you heard him wheeze from the back seat. 

“Yeah, what is it, are you okay??”

“Call my cousin when you get there, ok?” his voice was horse.

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” you smiled, turning back to the road. 

******

You sat anxiously in the waiting room, black marks from the char on your boyfriend’s body covering your white tank top and skinny jeans, even your converse, your leg bouncing anxiously up and down as you watched the phone, waiting for Newt’s cousin to text back, tears still stringing down your face.

How do you tell a family member something like this? Your cousin tried a new drug and caught on fire or Hey, your cousin was on fire cause superpowers are real?

You heard the phone ding, and all the text read was “OMW”.

“Ma’am?” you flicked your head up, making eye contact with a woman in a white lab coat, holding a clipboard, “Are you with Newton?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m with Newt,” you stood up, wiping away the tears that were falling moments before.

“I see, well, his body was covered in 3rd-degree burns, do you have any idea what happened?” 

“N-No, I found him like that, he was at home...,” you tried to lie, you couldn’t let it slip he was a drug dealer, let alone selling a drug that would be both yours and his payday for at least a month or two, “Is he gonna be okay?”

“Yes, we’ll have him stable soon. We’ll prescribe some painkillers and antibiotics.�� As long as he doesn’t sell them you would think, “He’s gonna be pretty much out of it for a few hours after you take him home. Does he have someone who can take care of him for a few weeks?” she glanced down at her clipboard.

“Y-Yeah, I can do it,” you choked out, the tears partly because you were upset this happened, but mostly because he was okay... and not dead. 

“Where is he?!” Robin burst through the doors, her eyes laying on me and the doctor. 

“Robin,” you muttered, Robin jogging over to you and hugging you tightly. 

“Is he okay? Tell me he’s okay,” she murmured into your shirt. 

“He’s gonna be okay, alright?” you hugged her back. 

“When can we see him?” she pulled back, looking at the doctor. 

“Just as soon as we stabilize him.” the doctor smiled. At least she wasn’t delivering bad news. 

******

You and Robin rushed through the halls of the E.R. hand in hand, looking for room 293. You were moments away from talking to him again, touching him again...

“Here!” Robin pulled you sharply to the left, opening the sliding glass door, seeing Newt wrapped in bandages, his one eye that was uncovered landing on the two of you. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, watching you and Robin walk up to each side of the hospital bed.

“I’m not getting out of here for a while, am I?” he asked, disappointed. 

“Obviously not,” Robin responded.

“But we’ll be here until you do.” you comforted him, holding the hand that wasn’t burnt to a crisp. 

And to that, he gave a small smile. 

******

((Part 2 comin real soon :) ))

#mgk #machine gun kelly #concert for aliens #tickets to my downfall #machine gun kelly smut #machine gun kelly x reader #colson #colson baker #the dirt #tommy lee #motley crue #rookxx #slimxx #bazexx #dubxx #general admission #mod sun #hotel diablo #bloom #lace up #EST #aesthetic #tiktok #tiktok aesthetic #project power

[littlespoonevan]

If you have time, I’d love to see a lil fic of Mickey being out and proud. In public, with coworkers, you decide, I just love unashamed Mickey.

so i was stumped about what to write for this for ages but thankfully @belleandkurtbastian came through with a great suggestion in one of their asks! I hope you like it!

(friendly reminder i’m not accepting prompts right now while i finish the ones i have in my inbox and work on my longfic!

*

Mickey’s never really seen himself as a “Date Night”kinda guy but ever since he and Ian got married – and somehow ended up with allthe responsibility of a house and kids right after – he’s gotta admit datenight has basically become the most precious night of the week.

His and Ian’s schedules generally overlap pretty wellbut between Ian working nights every three weeks and Mickey having to workevery second weekend and the Gallagher house being the Gallagher house findingtime alone isn’t always the easiest. So Wednesday night is date night unlessIan is working and it’s a tradition Mickey never expected to have but he can’treally imagine his week without it now.

They’re in a new restaurant tonight, finally both havingbeen back at work long enough that the amount of money coming in is larger thanthe amount of money going out. So they’re splurging a little bit, tryingsomewhere that requires one of his good shirts. And it’s nice; the place isn’ttoo crowded or overrun with families like the places they usually go. It’s calmand quiet and Mickey likes that heand Ian get to do this now.

While they’re waiting for their food Ian leans backin his chair, hand slipping out of Mickey’s and dislodging his legs from wherethey’re tangled with Mickey’s under the table. “I gotta go to the bathroom; I’llbe back in a sec.”

Mickey watches him go and can’t help the smile at thecorners of his mouth. Shit is really fucking good right now.

“Milkovich?”

Mickey freezes at the sound of someone calling hisname but after a beat he recognises the voice. Turning slightly, he sees Andyfrom work stalled in front of their table. Andy is a middle-aged dad with abeer belly but as far as his co-workers go he’s a pretty decent guy. Neverknows when the fuck to let a joke go but he’s harmless and never made any snidecomments or looked down on Mickey for his past. He’s not the worst personMickey could bump into outside of work.

“Hey man,” he greets easily. “What’s up?”

“The wife’s making me take her out for dinner,” hesays, expression all dramatic and long-suffering as he nods towards where hiswife is sitting a few tables over. “You know how it is.”

Mickey hums, hoping the pleasantries will end there,before Andy starts appraising him more closely. Taking in Mickey’s shirt andclean-shaven face and the general environment, his grin turns teasing.

“Guess you doknow how it is,” he laughs, nudging Mickey’s arm with his elbow. “The missusmakin’ you take her out too?”

Mickey supresses an eyeroll. The guys at work know he’smarried and he’s also pretty sure he’s mentioned Ian by name plenty of timesbut he guesses the whole “straight is the default” thing prevents some peoplefrom putting two and two together.

“Actually-“

Before he can say anymore he feels a hand touch hisother shoulder as Ian re-emerges from the bathroom. Mickey watches him as herounds their table to take his seat again.

“Hey,” Ian says softly, smiling at Mickey before heglances up at Andy expectantly.

And Jesus, Mickey just remembers all over again howmuch he’s in love with him. Reaching across the table to take Ian’s hand, helooks up at Andy. “This is my husband, Ian.” The words come out proud, steady, happy and Mickey feels his mouth lift ina smile when Ian squeezes his hand.

Andy stares at him, dumbfounded, before his eyeswiden and his face contorts as he quickly attempts to recover. “Shit,Milkovich, sorry!” he blusters, looking embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to assumewith the wife stuff.”

Mickey bites back a laugh at the panic in Andy’s eyesand inclines his head. “It’s cool.”

Andy breathes a sigh of relief and whirls to Ianthen. “Ian, is it?” he asks, thrusting out his hand for Ian to shake. “I’m Andy;I work with Mickey at the security office.”

Ian’s expression clears in understanding and heshakes Andy’s hand. “Hey, nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Andy says before his face turns pink insudden realisation. “Man, I’ve been an idiot, huh?”

Mickey frowns in confusion and Andy gives him asheepish look. “I was always pretty confused why you were talkin’ about your bestfriend like he hung the moon.”

Mickey’s eyes widen as he realises where this isgoing but before he can say anything Ian barks a laugh. “You thought I was hisbest friend?”

“Yeah, well he’d always talk about you guys going fora beer or to play baseball, I guess I just assumed,” Andy admits.

Mickey’s insides lock up at the mention of thedugouts – he definitely never saidthey were playing baseball but sure, he supposes they cover the bases when theygo there. Fuck, Ian is never gonna let him live this down.

“Makes sense though,” Andy says then because heclearly never knows when to fucking stop talking. “The smile on his face whenhe’d talk about you. I sure as hell never look like that when I’m talking aboutmy buddies.”

Ian is positively beaming now but Mickey pointedlyrefuses to meet his gaze. “Well now I gotta see this smile,” Ian says.

“You see it every fuckin’ day,” Mickey scowls whichhas the exact opposite effect than intended because Ian’s expression just goesimpossibly soft and he brushes his thumb over Mickey’s ring where their handsare still folded together.

Andy finally takes that as his cue to leave, raisinghis eyebrows. “Well uh, I better get back to my table before my wife getsannoyed and orders for me. See you at work, Milkovich!”

Mickey gives him a lame, “See ya,” and watches himgo. When he turns his gaze back to Ian reluctantly the soft look in his eyes isstill very much intact.

“You talk about me at work,” Ian says quietly, moreof an awed statement then a question.

“So?” Mickey huffs. “You probably talk about me atwork.”

“I do,” Ian confirms and that pulls Mickey up short. “Sue’sbanned me from using the word “husband” because she says everyone knows who I’mtalking about anyway.”

Mickey opens his mouth to say something but nothingcomes out. He’s- he’d figured he probably came up in conversation sometimes butit’s one thing to assume that and another to hear Ian’s been talking people’sear off about him.

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty infamous,” he says thoughnone of his usual bravado is present.

Ian laughs, looking impossibly fucking endeared as hesqueezes Mickey’s hand and twists their legs together under the table again. “Uhhuh.”

Mickey lasts approximately four more seconds underIan’s smiling gaze before he has to duck his head, feeling a blush rise to hischeeks. “Stop fucking lookin’ at me like that, Ian.”

“Hey,” Ian murmurs, tugging on his hand, and Mickeyraises his head with a sigh. “I love you.”

The words are like a shot of warmth through Mickey’swhole body and he feels his bashfulness ebb away. Yeah, he talks about Ian atwork because he fucking wants to and he getsto because he loves Ian and he’s not afraid to tell anyone that anymore.

Including Ian.

“I love you too,” he replies and he’d never actuallyrealised his voice could be so gentle before he started telling Ian those wordsevery day.

Ian squeezes his hand once more and releases him.

When Mickey finally tears his gaze away from him hecatches Andy’s eye across the room. Andy smiles at him, raising his glass inacknowledgement.

Mickey nods back in response, letting a smile sitcomfortably on his face, and goes back to enjoying date night with his husband.

*

#gallavich #ian x mickey #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #shameless #my fics #Anon #asks #did u know i've now written almost 30k worth of oneshots/prompts

[stunt-lads]

Sex on a counter/table/desk. But make it a pool table and mmmmmm trashstack? 👀

“Jesus Ben, how much money do you have?” 

Ben laughs but Richie is genuinely in awe. He’s been traveling since they reconnected, not the level Mike’s been doing it (Mike flew out to fucking Bill’s house, there’s no way Richie’s gonna do that...yet) but he’s been driving to the nearest Loser he can. He’s already overstayed his welcome with Stan and Patty (not really but Richie knows Stan’s patience is finite.) And Eddie’s been dealing with his own nonsense (his divorce has been hell and Richie’s a nuisance but not an asshole.) And, well, maybe Richie’s been playing favorites. Maybe he’s been visiting the Losers he’s attracted to so he can get the stupid feelings out of his system. 

Sue him.

Except not really because he’s well off but not that well off. 

And not as well off as Ben either apparently. 

“It’s just a basement Richie.”

“Benjamin. Don’t be modest.” He lets his eyes linger on Ben’s ass when he walks by before snapping them up to look around again, “You have a fucking theater in your basement.”

It’s not a home theater like Richie’s seen in pictures from his movie star friends, but there’s a surround sound system and a flatscreen set deep into the wall with a counter on one wall with snacks and a microwave and a couch big enough to fit all the losers and then some. 

“And a pool table.” Richie’s mind does a record scratch when Ben slides open a door that he hadn’t even seen, the basement nearly doubling in size. There’s not only a pool table, but there’s a bar and a couch and Richie immediately thinks of some fun activities he could get up to in a setup like this. 

He licks his lips and swallows to himself as he follows Ben into the second part of his basement. 

“Want a drink?” Ben offers and Richie accepts eagerly. He’ll take any reason to not be sober when he’s around people he’s attracted to. 

He wonders, leaning against the pool table and watching as Ben pours them both some cognac (the absolute bastard of course it’s cognac), if Ben would be down to fuck. He chokes on his own spit at the thought and clears his throat when Ben looks up at him curiously. 

“You ever play?” Richie asks, choosing not to comment on his own thoughts. 

“No one to play with.” Ben says, shrugging and gently handing Richie his drink. 

“Shit Haystack, let’s play!” Richie barely, barely, refrains from downing his whole drink in one, but he’s not that stupid, this shit’s expensive and he’s gonna savor it. 

Ben laughs, sipping from his own glass, “Yeah, alright, let’s do it!”

Richie didn’t think it through, not really. Because yes, he wanted to play pool with Ben because it’s fun. It’s a fun game. But he did not take into account that he, Richie Tozier, is a horny bastard. 

More than once he caught himself staring at the way Ben would lean over the table, imagining how easy it would be to just slide his hands up Ben’s sides and bury his dick in his ass. 

Richie is grateful for the crack of the cue ball hitting the others when it happens because it draws him from his thoughts. 

He isn’t sure how it happens, just that he’s taking his turn and Ben’s gone real quiet, so he looks over and Ben is staring at him the way he’s been staring all fucking night and oh boy, does that make him feel hot. 

Richie can work with this. He stands up, putting on a bit of a show and stretching his back as he does so, walking around to the other side to continue his turn. 

“So,” He hopes he sounds casual, “You been seein’ anyone?” 

His face heats in embarrassment and Richie revels in it. 

“Just,” He clears his throat, downing the last of his drink before he answers, “Just Bev sometimes.” 

“‘Sometimes’? What does ‘sometimes’ mean Benny boy?” 

“She’ll come over and we’ll...y’know, and then she goes home again.” 

“So is it like, an open relationship or friends with benefits?” 

“Why’s it matter?” 

“It doesn’t, I’m just curious.” The game is forgotten, Richie doesn’t care about it because all he hears right now is that Ben is available to fuck. 

“Yeah, well, what about you?” 

“What about me?” 

“Are you, y’know.” 

“Ben, we’re both adults here, you can ask me if I’m having sex on the reg.” Richie is delighted by the way Ben’s face turns red and he barely stops himself from marching over to the bar, he laughs a little before pretending to be interested in the game again, “But, no. Haven’t really been interested in anyone lately, and I’ve never been one to do the whole ‘romance’ thing.” 

“I’ve been told I’m ‘too much’.” He punctuates the sentence with his turn, letting the crack of the balls make sound so he doesn’t have to deal with how badly that phrase has always hurt him. 

He doesn’t miss the way Ben’s face looks sad for a moment as he comes back around to stand next to him, and he wonders if he should play the sympathy card to get some sex. But, nah, if it were Stan or Bill, yea sure, but Ben is too nice for that. 

“Anyway, what I’m hearing is you’re available,” Richie says, downing the rest of his drink, “You wanna fuck?” 

Ben’s eyes widen to near comical proportions and Richie laughs. He can’t help it, it’s just so funny to see Ben so embarrassed. 

“I—I’m straight?” 

“Ben, sweetie,” Richie says it slowly, like he’s trying to explain to a child, “straight men don’t stare at their male friends asses when they bend over a pool table.” 

He sees the hesitation and he smiles, a little more forced than before, he can play this off, even if he did want Ben’s dick so far in him he tastes it, or his dick so deep in Ben he’ll feel it for days after. He opens his mouth to joke it off, tell him he’s just kidding, but Ben speaks first. 

“No. I mean, I’ve only ever slept with women. I don’t—I wouldn’t know what to do.” 

Oh. Oh. Yeah, Richie can definitely work with this. 

“Lucky for you I know exactly what I’m doing.” He digs in his pocket, pulling out a small travel sized bottle of lube and Ben scoffs. Richie looks up, suddenly apprehensive but then he sees the fond smile on Ben’s face and he grins to match it. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you planned this Tozier.” 

“It never hurts to be prepared Benny boy.” 

“Where...where are we gonna—?”

“Right here.” Richie says cheerfully as he hops up on the edge of the pool table. He tugs Ben close by his shirt collar and grins like a shark, “First, I need to know if kissing is okay, sometimes people don’t like it for hookups. Bill’s not a real fan of it but Bill’s not a fan of much anything if it’s not Mike’s dick—”

“Richie.”

“Right! Sorry! Second, have you ever done anal with a girl?” 

“First,” Ben whispers, his voice low, and this feels wayy more intimate suddenly, “Kissing is nice and I don’t mind it. Second, no. I’ve only ever done uh, y’know...”

“P in V, got it.” Richie laughs, why does he sound so breathless? It’s just Ben for Christ’s sake.

“I was gonna say missionary.” Ben mumbles and Richie wants to laugh, to tease him about it, but then Ben’s kissing him and wow, Ben is absolutely the best kisser of all of the Losers. Richie thinks even Bill would be down to kiss Ben. He feels his cock get hard in his pants, pressing eagerly against the zipper. He’d be embarrassed by how easy he is but he can’t because Ben’s sliding closer as he deepens the kiss and Richie can feel his cock hardening too. 

Maybe they’re both a little touch starved. 

Richie eases Ben back, breaking the kiss even though he doesn’t want to. He wants to kiss him again when he hears the soft broken sound that comes from Ben’s throat. 

“Fuck Ben, we haven’t even started yet.” Richie teases gently, he pulls his jeans down, hissing softly as the fabric rubs against the sensitive head of his dick. 

“Richie,” He thinks Ben wants to sound incredulous, like he can’t believe Richie went fucking commando, but all it sounds like is desperation. 

“Hold your horses, I gotta—” There’s no lead up before he’s sliding two lube covered fingers into his body. He doesn’t usually like bottoming, strangers are always too rough and messy, but with his friends? Sure. Besides, Ben wouldn’t be ready for a dick right away anyways. This is easier. 

He’s careful as he prepares himself and he gets a little lost in it, head tipping back and moans escaping occasionally. He’s snapped back to the present when Ben presses a kiss to his throat, open mouthed and full of teeth. Richie lets out a whine he would deny ever came from him as Ben slides him down on his back. The edge of the pool table digs into the small of his back and he’s pretty sure he’ll feel it later, assuming he doesn’t see it in the bruises this will likely leave on his body. 

He doesn’t realize Ben’s sliding his hand away from his ass until his hand is replacing his fingers and oh his fingers can go deeper. Richie keens, arching his back as Ben’s fingers scissor him open. 

“For never having done this before,” Richie pants out, toes curling as Ben brushes a knuckle past his prostate, “You s-sure know what you’re doing.”

“I’ve fingered girls to get them ready before Richie. Can’t be much different than that.” Richie wants to snark back but then if he does that he might not get a dick in him and he kinda needs that now or he feels like he’ll die. 

“Oh good. Wouldn’t want those ladies to ever have to be torn in half by your, assumedly, massive dick.” 

“I wouldn’t say massive but it’s not small if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Ben, fucking, just—!” Richie’s getting impatient, there’s four fingers in him now and Ben keeps accidentally, brushing his prostate, like he’s avoiding it on purpose. 

“Bossy.” Ben huffs in the kiss Richie initiates, but then his fingers are being removed and Richie feels so empty he could cry, “Do you have a con—”

“Don’t need one, I like to be filled, hurry up.” Richie whines and Ben laughs at him, “You’re laughing. I’m dying without a dick in me and you’re fucking laughing, how could you Ben.” 

But then Ben’s sliding into him and Richie forgets how to breathe. Which he’s only aware of because of the way Ben reminds him to. And then he gasps, panting softly into the air of the basement that Richie was making fun of Ben for not even an hour ago. 

“B-Ben I—”

“I know,” He doesn’t even sound smug which makes the whole thing worse somehow. He moves his legs shakily, sliding them around Ben’s waist and locking him in. 

“Lets go big guy,” He hopes he sounds demanding but judging by the expression Ben makes he just sounds whiny, “Fuck me up.” 

Fucking on a pool table is an experience. It’s too heavy to move across the floor with the thrusts Ben makes into him, but damn if he isn’t trying, each thrust so deep Richie’s sure at any moment he’s gonna taste his dick all the way up in his mouth. Plus the creaking of the wood is a little scary, but the way the pool balls end up rolling into the pockets makes them laugh a little. 

Overall it’s not a bad experience, just different. 

And then Ben does it. He gets this grin on his face as he leans back to stand up straight, pulling Richie to him, making him hiss softly in pain as the felt of the table rubs up his back, bunching up his shirt and it’s not comfortable but he forgets it all as Ben shifts just enough to slide hard against his prostate with every thrust into him. He cries out so loud that he’s sure people in the neighboring states can hear him. His eyes cross and every exhale has him whimpering and whining, clawing at the felt on the table under him. 

His whines become louder as Ben reaches between them, grabbing his cock confidently, “C’mon Richie, come for me.” He whispers it and it’s so filthy, so unlike Ben that Richie can’t fucking help it, he comes hard, painting his own stomach and Ben’s hand with his come, his vision is still blurry and doubled even as he tenses and shakes while Ben continues, groaning softly as he comes shortly after. He leans down and presses a kiss to the side of Richie’s face. 

“Feel better?” Ben whispers and Richie nods. He smiles like an idiot. There’s a soft throat clearing and Ben’s eyes glance up towards the doorway. Richie tilts his head back and sees Bev and Eddie there, both looking bored. 

“Couldn’t wait?” Bev asks, sipping at her Starbucks.

“He’s needy.” Ben shrugs, and Richie hates him for being so nonchalant about it when he feels like he’s boneless on this table. 

Bev sighs and rolls her eyes. “The others are gonna be here soon, hurry it up. Patty doesn’t need to know we’re all fucking sex fiends.” 

“Richie more than any of us.” Eddie comments idly, averting his eyes as Richie moans, toes curling and back arching just for effect as Ben pulls out, laughing. He can play that game. 

“Fu-uhh-ck off.” Richie draws it out, trying to keep the appearance up but he really is fucked out now. 

“Can’t believe you let him top.” Bev says, walking past them to get to the bar, “He’s insufferable when he tops, thinks he’s so cool.” 

It takes a moment for Richie’s brain to catch up. “What?”  “...Oh my god, Ben, did you lie to this poor man?” Ben has the audacity to laugh. 

“He’s been staring at my ass since we came down into the basement, I figured if I was the one who had to initiate it and be obvious then I could top.” 

“My ass hurts and I’m leaking come and you’re telling me I could have fucked you?” Richie finally asks as he sits up on his elbows.

“Maybe next time you’ll be more obvious.” Ben says calmly, pointedly looking at the theater area where Eddie is actively trying not to listen as he gets snacks ready. 

“...That’s different fuck off.” Bev and Ben laugh at him and he smiles, “You’re all such Losers.” He mumbles as he tries to get dressed. Maybe he’ll talk to Eddie about it. Maybe next time they can all get together or maybe Eddie will wanna just hold hands. He thinks he could do that, for Eddie. 

#trashstack #poly!losers #ask #ecks barks back #thelxckblog #I COULDNT HELP IT #POLY!LOSERS GIVES ME LIFE AND I JUST #minors dni #not for minors #notsfw

[aph-honk-kong]

Soaring Gold

After one successful marriage comes a very unsuccessful engagement. [A continuation of this.] [Very late for day six of @aphasiaweek with the prompt of “culture”.]

Peninsula Hotel, Hong Kong

  “Wah diuuuu, you tried to ask out a Diocesan alumni? I bet she turned you down before you could say ‘five double stars’.”

  “I finally got that apartment in Qatar! It cost an arm and a leg, but it was worth it. Do you think I should go for a place in California, next?”

  “Hold on, which province did you say your sister moved to?”

  A million conversations seem to be happening at the same time, a cacophony of voices filling Harald’s head as he tries to find his table. The dining room is massive, at least three times as big as the entirety of the Dragon Room back in London, and he has no idea where he’s supposed to be sitting.

  “Babe!”

  Leon grabs him from behind and presses a not-so-sneaky kiss to the tip of his ear. He can feel his ears getting warm. “I was wondering where the fuck you’d gone off to. Come on, our table’s right next to the happy couple’s.”

  He’s lead to a table near the centre of the room, covered in a pure-white tablecloth and set with elegant porcelain plates. Ling is already sitting there, deep in conversation with the blonde next to her. Also at the table are Lauren, Berwald and his husband.

  “Why the fuck are you grading papers?” Leon exclaims incredulously.

  “Because I care more about my students than this massive dinner that’s probably going to last three hours, that’s why,” Lauren shoots back. “Heaven forbid some of us actually have to work for a living.”

  He presses a hand to his chest in mock offence. “Oh wow, so hurtful. I feel deeply wounded.”

  Rolling his eyes, Harald sits down. Next to him is Berwald’s husband, who smiles at him. “Well, hello again!”

  “Hi.”

  “I don’t think I’ve introduced myself yet.” He extends his hand. “My name is Timo Väinämöinen. This is my husband Berwald.”

  Berwald shakes his hand next, saying quietly, “I believe I know your brother?”

  “My brother-in-law, actually,” Harald corrects. “Henrik says you’re the reason he and Stell got to come here.”

  “Speaking of Henrik,” Ling cuts in, “is nobody going to talk about how he looked in that suit of his? I may be a lesbian, but hot damn.”

  The woman next to her scrunches her face up slightly in dissatisfaction.

  “Don’t be jealous, Nat.” She giggles and kisses her temple. “The man’s a pancake, unlike you.”

  “A pancake?” Nat rolls her eyes. “He’s a crepe.”

  Harald chokes on his water. 

...

  A few tables away, many-named Arthur is sitting with Francis, Roderich, Erzsébet, Jo and Niklas, nibbling daintily on the pig’s-ears biscuits served before the banquet is due to start. He occasionally throws a glance towards the married couple’s table, where Vicente and Madeline are practically sitting on each other’s lap. “Goodness gracious, how much do you think they spent on this wedding?”

  “Including the chapel, the after-ceremony lunch, the Rolls-Royce that drove them here, this dining room, the banquet, the complimentary party favours, the lucky draw involving twenty-four-karat gold jewellery and however much it took to get Mr. Edelstein to perform, I assume the entire thing cost at least two million Hong Kong dollars,” Niklas pipes up. He snatches the last biscuit before Arthur can and crunches it loudly. “Give or take a million or so.”

  The adults all stare at him in shock. Roderich leans over to whisper to Arthur, “see, this hip new Scandinavian education system that treats kids like human beings lets them pull things like this. But again, he’s not even wrong...”

  Francis smiles and pats Niklas on the head. “You were very close. The wedding actually cost five million. Five million Euros, that is.”

  His eyes widen. “Euros!?”

  “Oui, Euros. I am pretty sure that’s more than the GDP of some countries.”

  Jo looks around them, big eyes taking in every bit of the room’s extravagance. “If I ever get married, I’m going to do it in a park or something. The guests can wear whatever they want and the only food we serve will be the wedding cake.”

  “Nonsense, I’ll organise your wedding in St. Stephen’s Cathedral.”

  They blow a raspberry at their father. 

  Erzsébet points at the table next to the couple’s. “Say, isn’t that Vicente’s brother?”

  “That’s Leon, all right.” Francis takes a sip of white wine, swirling it around the glass. “He even brought along a common boy. Poor Yao, can you imagine what he’s thinking?”

  “Nothing good, that’s for sure,” Roderich tuts. “At least Leon’s not trying to marry him. The continent would go up in flames.”

  Arthur clicks his tongue disapprovingly. He’s looking at another table, where the more famous guests are sitting. “I know his brother, who attended my luncheons while on tour in England. The two of them are fine fellows, I must admit, but unfit to marry into the Wang family.”

  “That guy dresses funny,” Jo says. “At least, he doesn’t dress like the rest of us. Nik thought he was the usher when we got to the chapel.”

  “Sounds about right!” Francis laughs. “Nobody would expect somebody of his upbringing to know how to dress.”

  A group of waiters enter the room, holding a number of steaming dishes. Roderich sits up straighter and elbows his child sharply. “Put that tablet of yours away, now. The banquet is starting.”

...

  “This is incredible,” Harald says for what feels like the millionth time. Course after course has been served, each plate presenting a clever fusion dish he never would have thought of. Nothing at the Dragon Room could ever compare.

  “Vic hired two of Asia’s best chefs to make tonight’s banquet, plus their wedding cake.” Leon nibbles at a forkful of buttery Arborio rice before setting it down on his almost-finished plate of white-truffle garlic butter and Hangzhou shrimp risotto. “The desserts are going to blow you away.”

  He nods gratefully at the waiter who takes his dish away. “I want to meet the chefs behind this one day.” The next dish is placed down, and Harald stares down at it. On the plate is a mini sculpture made of sorbet, shaped like a rosebush with tiny candy flowers and caramel branches. “You’d have to be some kind of genius to think of this.”

  “I think you’re plenty genius yourself,” Leon quips. He swallows his first bite of sorbet before kissing him briefly. His lips taste of mint.

  Soon, dessert is over and a pair of waiters wheel out the massive wedding cake. The icing around it is pure-white, topped with narrow grey-pink filigree patterns. At the very top of the cake is a sugar butterfly, holding two thin sheets of rice paper covered in thin writing, inked with chocolate sauce. Harald peers closer and realises it’s Vicente and Madeline’s wedding vows.

  “Amazing, huh?”

  “Yeah,” he breathes. 

  Leon stands up the moment they receive their slice, holding his plate and his dessert fork. “Grab your plate, too.”

  “Won’t people notice?” Harald protests.

  “They would, on most cases.” He winks at his brother, who smiles back while balancing the caramel butterfly on a plate. Vicente stands up, hand in hand with Madeline, and lift the plate up. A crowd of photographers surge forward, cameras at the ready, to capture the moment. Leon grabs his hand and tugs. “But not today.”

  Holding on to his plate, Harald follows him out of the dining room, up grand staircases and past jewellery stores until they reach the topmost layer of the hotel. Leon opens the door, revealing a stunning rooftop garden. 

  Nobody is there, and the only sound is that of leaves being rustled. He leads him to sit down on a cushioned loveseat that overlooks the streets and Victoria Harbour. On the other side of the Harbour, Central glows radiantly. 

  “Isn’t this a better view than that stuffy dining room?” Leon eats his first forkful of cake.

  Harald cuts into his slice and pops it into his mouth. It turns out to be a rich red velvet cake, dotted through with pieces of vanilla fudge and lemon crumble. He smiles. “This is good.”

  “We’ve been going to parties all weekend, so it’s nice that we get some time alone.” He reaches across the loveseat to hold his hand. “I’m almost dreading going back to London. What would I do without all my crazy friends?”

  He lets out a short puff of laughter. “‘Crazy’ is an understatement. No sane person would spend so much money on a wedding!”

  “You said once that you’d prefer a simple wedding if you ever got married,” Leon reminisces,” and I gotta say the same. I’d go nuts organising stuff like this!”

  Slice of cake finished, Harald shifts closer to snuggle up to Leon, shrugging his suit jacket off. “I love you,” he mumbles.

  “Love you too.” He drops an absent kiss on the top of his head. “I actually have something to tell you.”

  “Hmm?”

  Leon pulls a small box out of his pocket and shows it to him. Harald’s breath hitches.

  “Normally guys would get down on a knee to do this, but I don’t want to stop cuddling you so here we are.” He drops his gaze for a moment before returning it, strong and sure. “And, uh, I just love you so much and I’d like nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you.” He flicks the box open, revealing a simple silver ring. “So what I want to know is... is if you want to marry me.”

  Harald’s cheeks prickle with heat. His heart is thudding wildly in his chest. “I - “ he sputters. “Of cour - “

  “STOP!”

  The door leading back to the hotel swings open. Standing in the doorway is Yao, arms crossed and glaring daggers at them. Leon glares back. “What are you doing here?”

  Yao marches towards the loveseat. “I know what you’re doing,” he says. “Ka Long, I know you’re planning to marry Harald. And I’m here to say that you can’t. I forbid it!”

#aph hongice #aph monacau #aph sufin #aph hong kong #aph iceland #aph monaco #aph macau #aph sweden #aph finland #aph belatai #aph belarus #aph taiwan #aph england #aph france #aph hunaus #aph hungary #aph austria #aph kugelmugel #aph ladonia #aph china #octalia #aph singapore #aph fanfiction #my writing #aphasiaweek #crazy rich asians parody #ONE MORE PART TO GO #YEEHAW

[1zashreena1]

Quarantine- New Ranch Flavor! -5

18+, m/f, technically OCxDiego Jimenez [Power]

Summary: Princess is stranded in NYC with her Murder Panther for the duration of the quarantine. As a high risk patient she has no choice but to isolate as much as possible. Simulated domesticity ensues. Princess texts a running commentary to her bff Lisa.

WARNINGS: Ridiculous descriptions and ‘the code is more like guidelines’ outlook on grammar. Is it OOC if the character was given essentially zero development in canon???

No actual smut, nasty ass snack foods, plus size insecurity, unprotected sex, feels are icky, plus size woman+fit man, bad boys with too much money and not enough impulse control, secondary OCs, excessive swearing (???), illegal business dealings… I mean, its DIEGO

A/N: Princess took on a life of her own and has essentially become an OC. There are infrequent mentions of her description (specifically as plus size) and her actual name in later pieces (its Bicki). She started as self-insert so she looks like me (plus size, white, short, blue eyes, curly hair). If that is not your thing, I totally understand. And do not feel obligated to read this, I will not be offended!

I’m not a fan of “plot” so be aware that most of this series is just meandering through their relationship, angst-fluff-smut whiplash style. But with dick jokes.

TAGLIST: @chelsfic​ @symbiont13​ @nicke0115​ @bunnykjm​ @rosee-sensuelle​ @girlpornparadise​ @mandoplease​ @heresathreebee​ @xxsteph-enrixx​ @jetiikad​ @joalsglasses​ @mutantcookiesecrets​ @demoncatstone​ @squidlywiddly87​

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged.

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Thursday 11:22am

From Princess

Day 1 and I literally have an ice pack on my pussy and

Hold on he’s not wearing pants again gtg

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Friday 9:49am

From Princess

Video chatting with sister when Diego walks past in the background… shirtless.

She put her phone down (my entire screen was just ceiling) and I could hear her crying. Hung up after 10 min

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Friday 10:14pm

From Princess

He sucks ass at Jenga and its adorable

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Saturday 11:49am

From Princess

I was provided a to-do list for the day.

It's just his name

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Sunday 1:32pm

From Princess

We have sorted every liquid in the penthouse into 2 categories:

Potential Lube

Definitely Not Lube

Except we’re arguing about ranch dressing

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Sunday 2:17pm

From Princess

Update: Ranch went into the Not Lube category because it “smells nasty when it gets warm” This fact was previously unknown to me and I was afraid to ask for more details

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Monday 8:40am

From Princess

Morning announcements include the fact that 8:37 is the earliest he has ever gotten up

I’m worried about losing my job. Diego advises me to apply to Dyson because I “never lose suction”

Am I offended or proud of myself?  It’s not even 9am

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Tuesday 1:12am

From Princess

This is the most weed I have ever consumed in my life (I know, not a high bar) Why is he hanging upside down off the couch making motorboat noises??

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Tuesday 1:14am

From Princess

Ahh. He was composing a poem about my tits

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Tuesday 2:49am

From Princess

The railing up the stairs to the bedroom does not in fact support my weight. Pole dance competition is OFF

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Tuesday 2:57am

From Princess

You know that thing you do with my bras? Where you put it on like a headband and it makes mickey mouse ears?

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Wednesday 11:17am

From Princess

Julio required to give 10 min warning prior to arrival so Diego can take off his pants

Yes you read that right

Freak

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Wednesday 11:19am

From Princess

Yes you do so know who Julio is. Big, round, only wears ivory/eggshell/off white/ThisIsMy 2ndWedding  colored blazers. Jeez Lisa you're not old enough for dementia yet girl

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Wednesday 12:52pm

From Princess

I have played myself. Just ate an entire cheesesteak while being a cockwarmer

Turns out I’m the freak

Julio present and accounted for

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Thursday 9:37am

From Princess

He’s crunching  a bowl of something via spoon. I ask what it is. Crushed cheez-its and mayonnaise. What in the actual fuck this man is a literal monster

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Thursday 12:10pm

From Princess

Edible body paint works on windows. Had to sit on his shoulders but this is the largest ‘FUCK’ I have ever written. Very proud

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Thursday 12:22pm

From Princess

Bottom half of the ‘C’ has transferred onto my ass. But 7 orgasms. Pick your battles

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Thursday 11:47pm

From Princess

Tried a pickled habanero. He’s still face down in the rug crying with laughter. It’s been 10 min dude come on

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Friday 10:12am

From Princess

Me: Why are you so heavy?

Diego: I keep eating you

Me: High five

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Friday 3:17pm

From Princess

He’s trying to “conduct business” via 3 cellphones. Would offer my tablet but I’m too pretty for prison. Gonna take a nap

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Friday 4:41pm

From Princess

Pants are forbidden in the bedroom. We’re just making the rules up as we go I see

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Saturday 9:59am

From Princess

He’s sitting in the corner of the window walls staring dejectedly outside. I hear the tiniest forlorn whisper “THOSE people are outside”

Too cute--must blow---BRB

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Saturday 1:32pm

From Princess

Angry texting. Muttering “No I can’t go outside and no you can’t come in here. Bitch…. No no, delete delete delete”

Me:  Where is your sister anyway? LA?

Him: Very Squinty Eyes

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Saturday 9:22pm

From Princess

My ass is stuck in the kitchen sink. While he was very helpful getting me in here he is of no assistance getting me out.

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Saturday 11:46pm

From Princess

Apparently ‘douchecanoe twatwaffle jerkface’ is the most hilarious insult he has ever heard. My brilliance is unparalleled

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Sunday 5:51am

From Princess

Me: Hey what’s the worst thing you’ve ever put in your mouth?

Him outrageously offended: I’m not answering that!

Him:  ... you first

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Sunday 7:12pm

From Princess

Is it a legit massage if he has to pause in the middle to jack off?

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Monday 11:06am

From Princess

Ordered groceries via Amazon Prime drone delivery. Sitting on the rooftop patio wrapped up together in a ginormous blankie waiting.

Does this count as a date?

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Monday 1:13pm

From Princess

Drone arrived. I lost my shit. Coolest thing ever. He’s frantically ordering more stuff because I haven’t looked this ecstatic since the time he rubbed my feet then went down on me for 2 hrs

Hold up change of plans

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Monday 2:28pm

From Princess

stubble burn on bottom of feet :-/

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Monday 6:44pm

From Princess

We can both fit in the jacuzzi tub. Almost drowned when his phone rang and we both spazzed out

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Tuesday 10:10am

From Princess

Today’s formal edict: He will only be referring to himself in the 3rd person. I am required to do as told. Should not be this turned on

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Tuesday 11:58am

From Princess

Watching him try to answer calls like this is a level of hilarity I could not have predicted

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Tuesday 1:53pm

From Princess

He gave me a crash course in chem. Still don’t know anything but it was hot as hell

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Tuesday 2:57pm

From Princess

Despite all evidence to the contrary I’m a Good Girl. Did as I was told. Got rewarded. 13 times

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Tuesday 5:33pm

From Princess

Unlocked a tiny piece of tragic backstory*™: He’s never been to a zoo   :-(

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Wednesday 11:24am

From Princess

Julio and Bastian brought 4 pizzas. Currently eating them individually sitting in a giant square in the living room SOCIAL DISTANCING

Like he wasn’t inside me 10 min ago wtf

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Wednesday 11:25am

From Princess

Yes cute driver Bastian. Btw you are barking up the wrong tree girl. His favorite animal is bears lol

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Wednesday 12:39pm

From Princess

Garlic butter: lube or no? Round table discussion happening.

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Wednesday 1:19pm

From Princess

I won in favor of No

Me: slams hands down on table

Me: HAVE YOU EVER HAD A YEAST INFECTION???

All men present:   :-[

                             :-[

                             :-[

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Wednesday 1:32pm

From Princess

Diego: puts garlic butter cup in the empty box and slides the whole mess off table to the floor without breaking eye contact. My sugar daddy is truly a murder panther

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Wednesday 3:49pm

From Princess

Flipping channels (he only has 5000) when he comes downstairs from the bedroom wearing Ginormous Blankie as cape.

Him: Can we do the thing again?

Me: Gotta be way more specific babe

Him: Flaps blankie like wings and gives me puppy dog eyes

Him: You know. Thing. On the roof. ...please?

Did

Did he just ask me to cuddle???

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Wednesday 5:58pm

From Princess

Can confirm roof cuddles.  He fell asleep with his face mashed into my neck-shoulder after watching sunset. Every time I move he whimpers and squeezes tighter. I don't know what is happening but it kinda hurts in my chest

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Wednesday 9:12pm

From Princess

Me: You know those girls you send away when I come up? There's one that sorta begrudgingly likes me?

Him, stuffing a 2nd Oreo into his mouth(there's already a whole 1 in there)

Him: Frahnthessga?

Me: Yeah! Can I fuck her?

….I should worry about my job again pretty sure Murder Panther Sugar Daddy is dead

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Wednesday 10:48pm

From Princess

We splintered the plexiglass-divider-shower-wall thingy. His solution was to just hold all 215lbs of me up in the air and finish. I have no words

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Thursday 4:12am

From Princess

I can hear him on the phone downstairs listing names. I don't know these people. I'm going in the bathroom to run water so I can't hear anything else

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Thursday 9:02am

From Princess

I slept thru a breakfast meeting. There's a laptop  and a box of 1 doz Boston cream donuts labeled PRINCESS on the bar counter. He's watching news with Julio + Bastian on the couch. Odd but ok I got fave donuts so whatevs

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Thursday 9:17am

From Princess

On 3rd donut when I catch him staring. Can only see from eyes up bc he's peering at me over back of the couch. Have inadvertently activated Horny Murder Panther mode via accidental slutty licking of cream filling. 

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Thursday 11:40am

From Princess

Me: I don't like avocado

Diego: bitch what the fuck 

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Thursday 12:10pm

From Princess

He asked what the deal was with white people and meatloaf. I requested clarification on food or music. He's confused it's fucking adorable

BUT NOW I HAVE TO EXPLAIN THE ENTIRE GENRE OF CLASSIC ROCK

~~~

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Thursday 2:14pm

From Princess

I'm making a meatloaf for dinner. Also brownies. TV is still on???

~~~

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Thursday 4:24pm

From Princess

Found a big round can of guava paste in the back of the fridge. He's spoon feeding it to me while watching me make meatloaf

Diego: I did not realize you were so… domesticated

Me, no brain to mouth filter: Yeah well gettin dicked down 3x a day will do that to a girl

Please send hitman asap 

~~~

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Thursday 5:10pm

From Princess

He just turned TV off. Local news was listing all major crimes in NYC today. Last story was 6 bodies found inside meat plant freezer, execution style kills with "on-site" equipment. When I whisper Dafuq??  he distractedly mutters 'captive bolt pistol'  

He's texting again

~~~

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Thursday 5:39pm

From Princess

I kinda wanna come home now

~~~

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Thursday 7:48pm

From Princess

I have converted another person to meatloaf lover (food not music)

On 3rd brownie when he declares: I am never letting you leave again. Mine now

Look up from rolling my eyes to receive Super Intense I Can See Into Your Soul Diego Stare

~~~

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Thursday 9:50pm

From Princess

He's looking for a scary movie via voice command on remote. Other hand is on my foot. I can't even see my foot. What is the actual purpose of hands that big?? What is the evolutionary goal to this endgame? ?? Why am I wet just thinking about a    h a n d    ?????

~~~

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Friday 12:34am

From Princess

Con: This asshole is delighted to learn that I don't like scary movies

Pro: Hiding my face in his chest means I fucking feel the rumble when he laughs at me. I think I'm developing a heart condition. Hurts again.

~~~

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Friday 1:40am

From Princess

He's rubbing his face all over my stomach. I don't like this. Sir why. Please it's literally the least attractive part of me

~~~

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Friday 2:11am

From Princess

He likes it…? I don't see. How does. But it's.

No

~~~

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Friday 3:47am

From Princess

He's asleep on my stomach after spending 40 min declaring his love for belly

I'm crying and I can't stop. My whole chest hurts. What is this. Is this the most long game prank ever. There's no way he's for real. I'm afraid. Do you think I should try to escape?? Please you know I'm not easily frightened but I just. Please text back I need my BFF

~~~

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Friday 7:18am

From Princess

Woke up in bed alone and naked. Gonna grab a shirt and handle this. I can't just ignore it. This is probably a bad idea but I can't just let it go. If you don't hear back from me by noon call my parents. I love you

~~~

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Friday 11:38am

From Princess

Halfway down the stairs 3 dudes I don't know come out of the office, Diego and Julio follow. They take 1 look at me and launch into laughter and some rude fucking spanish. I'm rusty but I know fucking "fat bitch" tyvm. Diego picks this mf up by the throat and throws him into the elevator. Drags the other 2 in and... no one has come back since

Been locked in the bathroom. I'm afraid to hear anything

~~~

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Friday 1:48pm

From Princess

Relocated to closet earlier. Reading. I'm 2 chapters in and I don't even remember the title. Gonna take an ativan. Hands are shaking

~~~

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Friday 2:27pm

From Princess

You know what? I don't even care. Like as long as it's never directed at me I just don't care.

It's too late I'm in too deep. I don't know if I can even come home after this. I'm not who everyone thinks I am. I don't know who I am. I'm turning the phone off now I'm sorry but I just need everything to stop for a while

~~~

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Friday 7:48pm

From Princess

I'm ok, sorry for the dramatics. Woke up still in the closet corner but under Ginormous Blankie and can hear shower running. Decide it's time to put my big girl panties on and march in there. No I did not learn from the last time. Standby

~~~

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Friday 9:22pm

From Princess

We're good.

~~~

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Friday 11:49pm

From Princess

Ok. Marched into bathroom, launched into speech: I'm sorry but I did not know anyone was here. You have to leave me a note or something. Please tell me I did not ruin anything

Him, still in shower: Get your ass in here.

It was a literal growl

~~~

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Friday 11:50pm

From Princess

Apparently that guy had been fucking up small time and Diego was waiting for him to fuck up big time. I will never see all 3 of them again (No do not ask)Yes it was frustrating but not mad at me. Ok a little because his sister hired that guy and now he has to explain the dude's ...disappearance. Without mentioning me. No one can know about me I am a "liability"

Um ouch..? I think?? Chest pain again

~~~

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Friday 11:51pm

From Princess

He's been asleep, I'm just staring at the ceiling. Demanded I let him prove that he would never put hands on me that I don't want. I thought he was gonna cry. I did start crying but said yes. Not gentle per se, but definitely ...emotional? Like soft sex. Slow soft sex but with emotions?? I'm lost

~~~

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Friday 11:54pm

From Princess

Please tell me no. Talk me out of this. Tell me I'm fucknuts and I need to just come home and be reasonable and sensible. You know when you stand at a ledge and a little voice tells you Just jump. Do it. Go

Do I want all in? Can I do this? I should not do this. I should not care about him. Especially like this. I just. When I'm not here this is all I think about. No one else makes me feel this way

~~~

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Friday 11:56pm

From Princess

I'm hysterical right? This will go away if I just sleep. I can't stop looking at him. Touching his face, hair. Ever since the Kitchen Blowup (after the first fight??is it a fight if you're not technically in a relationship?) he's been different. Careful?? Like he really listened to me and heard. I can see him trying. Like reining in his knee jerk reactions and stopping to think before he says stuff to me. What am I supposed to do?

~~~

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Friday 11:59pm

From Princess

I want to trust him. I want to be spoiled and fucked senseless and all the giggles and private planes and shopping sprees and sleeping in til noon. But what about the other side? Constantly looking over my shoulder? Worrying that he might not come home from whatever the fuck he's out doing? The other actual supermodel hot women??? I'm not naive.

~~~

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Saturday 12:10am

From Princess

I just need to turn this off. Shut it down. Cut off emotions and just fuck. I can't do this and I can't have him for keeps. So it's time to be realistic. After this shitty quarantine ends I'll take whatever cash he wants to give me and go home. I can move if I have to. It's not hard to change your name these days. This whole nightmare will be the hilarious rumors in my future nursing home

~~~

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Saturday 4:44am

From Princess

Got up at like 350 for the bathroom. When I crawled back into bed he yanked me backwards to be smashed into/under him. Buried face into my hair and ordered:

Stop

Leaving

~~~

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Saturday 9:10am

From Princess

Woke up alone. Gathered shirt. Did surveillance from top of stairs. Music blasting. Bastian and Diego are working out. I had to sit down for a while

~~~

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Saturday 9:40am

From Princess

Finally made it down the stairs. Eating donuts while watching live action porn

~~~

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Saturday 10:27am

From Princess

Show's over. Diego announces he is going to shower with a wink. I am staying on this barstool with my donuts. I am determined

~~~

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Saturday 10:38am

From Princess

Sharing donuts with Bastian. He is staring at me

Me: ...wut?

Bastian: You know I haven't driven Franchesca anywhere in 4 months

I don't know how long I've been sitting here staring at this half eaten donut but Bastian is gone

Shower still running

~~~

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Saturday 1:36pm

From Princess

Slut level 7: Shower blowjob

Realized I have to wash my hair now. He demands to do it??

Diego: How much fucking conditioner is this going to take?

Me drooling blissfully: Uhhh... please not that word right now

...I literally heard Horny Murder Panther transition happen.

He did not touch anything but my head. Came via voice command. How the fuck

~~~

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Saturday 1:39pm

From Princess

Then it was Round 2 still dripping wet in the bed. No idea how he recovered that fast not looking gift horse in the mouth.  Haha   Horse

Also slow soft again? Does this mean something?? I feel like I'm missing some key piece of info. Never had a dude like kiss all over my face and stroke my hair. What is this gentle?? Don't like the whole looking into my eyes thing

~~~

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Saturday 3:02pm

From Princess

Received an assignment. Was trying to budget for next month (on my new laptop! Whole Microsoft office package!! SPREADSHEETS!!!)

Instructed to help fix what I fucked up…?

It's resumes. He wants me to look at resumes.   Um

~~~

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Saturday 4:12pm

From Princess

We traded laptops. I picked 3 resumes for 'warehouse labor'  This is fucking surreal

Got my laptop back and… all the internet tabs were closed?? I was paying all my bills dude wtf. His phone rings but before he walks off tells me the title will be mailed to me. ?????

~~~

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Saturday 4:47pm

From Princess

He's still in the office on the phone. I'm in the closet in shock. He paid my loans. He paid my Loans. He Paid My Fucking Loans OFF

CAR

STUDENT LOANS

$$$$$   30,000  $$$$$

THIRTY GRAND

~~~

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Saturday 4:52pm

From Princess

No you can't have him if I don't want him!! Fuck you

~~~

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Saturday 5:32pm

From Princess

Bastian came back, left a big box on the counter, said "This is for you honey" and left again. Diego still in the office.

...should I open it or wait for him to come out??

~~~

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Saturday 5:36pm

From Princess

Fuck it. I'm opening this shit

~~~

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Saturday 5:42pm

From Princess

It's a very large Brahmin bag.

Holy fuck its gorgeous 

~~~

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Saturday 5:47pm

From Princess

You know what? You Know What?

IT'S KITCHEN BLOWUP 2.0 TIME

~~

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Sunday 8:42am

From Princess

I think we're ok? I actually uh, accidentally recorded um… everything-ish. And I might send it to you later. But right now things are kinda wobbly and I just wanna enjoy everything while I can. I'll check back in later. We're going to bed now

~~

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Sunday 1:58pm

From Princess

Woke up to 1 gigantic hand stroking down my back. 2nd hand stuffed up my pussy to the knuckle. Villain voice directly into left ear. Memory hazy after that

~~

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Sunday 3:01pm

From Princess

Do Oreos in bed at 3pm count as breakfast? My hips hurt

~~

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Sunday 6:40pm

From Princess

Ok we all know I'm very much A Freak. Trysexual if you will. Only way to know you don't like it is to try it right? So anal. Never really worked. Great in theory really unpleasant in practice.

Turns out others were trying to insert the wrong appendage. Related: I fucking love beards

e v e r y w h e r e

~~

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Sunday 10:40pm

From Princess

Yes I know you wanna know about KITCHEN BLOWUP 2.0, someday I'll tell you about v.1. It's complicated. There are feels. I can't take the vague, wishy washy, up in the air status. So it went kinda like this

Me: You want to "keep" me? Wtf does that even mean?? And how, via purchasing me??? Don't get me wrong, I like being spoiled. I'm not an idiot. But you don't even know me

He looked like I stabbed him. It was horrible

~~

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Sunday 10:42pm

From Princess

So I laid it all out: I lived in my car for a while in my 20s. Escaped an abusive ex after 8 yrs. Survived cancer at 26. Did 2 rounds of trade school just to be scraping by at like $15 an hour. That you just paid off like it was nothing. You try to protect me from you and your life. But you have no idea what I've already survived.

So here's the deal: You wanna keep me?? Then I get to keep you.

But it's everything. If I can't have everything then I don't want anything. And if it can't be ONLY me then I gotta go. I'm not a back up plan or a convenience.

~~

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Sunday 10:50pm

From Princess

At this point I'm scream-crying, gesticulating like I'm hysterical. He's collapsed on the floor at my feet looking like I just killed his dog. Only makes me worse. I'm demanding an answer right fucking now. This is a disaster.

~~

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Sunday 10:54pm

From Princess

He starts yelling about how he can't keep me if I'm dead. This isn't a fucking game and I'm just like Do I look like I'm playing right now?!?

Lisa, he was crying. Just kept repeating "She's right. She's fucking right. That bitch is right."

Head in his hands sobbing.

I couldn't. 

~~

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Sunday 10:59pm

From Princess

So I got down on my knees in front of him and reached for his hands. Just like the first blowup. I was terrified because he's obviously not in control and like I don't know the things he does but I Know. And the PTSD from ex… but I finally got him to look at me and asked him to just Tell Me.

And he did.

~~~

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Monday 12:04am

From Princess

If you had told me that night in the club that any of this would happen. That this man was capable of everything these past 10 months have brought. I would've taken you to the hospital myself.

He collapsed on me and was just begging me "Don't go don't go. Please stay. Stay just for now. Please. No one else no one."  I have a lot to consider. Probably gonna be quiet for a few days. I'll text you when things calm down. He's asleep on my chest right now

~~~

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Monday 12:10am

From Princess

I mean 10 months...how many weekends have I been up here? 12? 16? And only twice did I reach out first and ask. I have stuff here. You saw the closet section. Every time I arrive there's coke and ketchup in the fridge. My face wash and toothbrush and a huge bottle of gel in the bathroom. Last time here he gave me the safe combo???

~~~

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Monday 12:14am

From Princess

YES THE SODA JFC

I mean, I've never seen ...other… in the fridge. I don't think it needs to be refrigerated???

I Don't Know Okay

~~~

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Monday 6:40am

From Princess

Woke up around 5 and he was just staring at me from like 2 inches away. He left once he realized I was awake. I didn't follow. He still hasn't come back to bed yet. Should I go find him?

~~~

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Monday 11:38am

From Princess

Found him on the couch. Coffee table covered in vast array of firearms. Did not realize there were so many in this penthouse. Little uncomfortable. But I'm a fast learner with good mechanical skills so now I can do gun stuff. Please don't ask me about it

~~~

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Monday 11:41am

From Princess

Ok yesss. We had the stupid movie cliche moment of big tough guy stands behind damsel to teach some physical skill. Gawd.

...yeah doing it feels better than watching. You happy now???

~~~

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Monday 2:28pm

From Princess

Mood swing. He declared vengeance on behalf of his closet. I have worn too many shirts. This cannot continue. ????? Stay tuned

~~~

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Monday 2:59pm

From Princess

This man runs the largest distribution enterprise in the western hemisphere.

Currently stuck in one of my $6 tank tops from Target. 

~~~

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Monday 4:17pm

From Princess

I'm out a tank top. And a thong. Go ahead and just think about that

...But I'm still wearing one of his shirts :-D

~~~

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Monday 5:48pm

From Princess

Instead of admitting defeat he decided to forcibly remove the shirt from me. Since I have to be difficult, I ran. If this place wasn't soundproof there would be so many police here.

What level of fucked up is it to enjoy screaming No!, while struggling, not less than 3 sec prior to orgasm??

~~~

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Monday 5:52pm

From Princess

The scale only goes to 10. You don't gotta be a bitch. Damn

~~~

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Monday 8:17pm

From Princess

14 days will be up this Thursday. But they're talking about extending it, really bad here. I'm scared. Gonna try a drink, maybe ativan because I'm starting to freak out.

~~~

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Monday 9:57pm

From Princess

Watching the news and I just sorta came unglued.  Diego not really a soft/gentle guy (obvs) but once I got thru a blubber-cry explanation of immuno-compromised and cancer treatment I got full lap cuddles. I want this every time I'm upset. Warm and solid and big hands and soft nuzzles and scratchy velvet cheek kisses. Feel so tiny and safe

~~~

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Monday 11:40pm

From Princess

Think I'm fukced up. Everything feels good. Petting all the things

~~~

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Monday 11:44pm

From Princess

I'm fiiiiine. One drink. Once ativan. Thats it

~~~

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Monday 11:49pm

From Princess

Omgod ill be fine it's good donot call me

~~~

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Monday 11:55pm

From Princess

What are fiddlesticks? Like the worrd not a instrument accessory?why do we say that

~~~

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Tuesday 7:42am

From Princess

Holy shit I slept so good. I looked back thru the texts. Wtf was I doing?? I don't remember any of this

~~~

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Tuesday 8:32am

From Princess

He's giving me that all teeth smile. I'm very suspicious. And surprisingly not horny?? Am I dying?

~~~

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Tuesday 9:46am

From Princess

Have been informed that I was very adorable last night. I'm afraid to learn his definition of adorable

~~~

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Tuesday 10:12am

From Princess

Omg he has 3 hours of video

~~~

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Tuesday 11:17am

From Princess

I spent 45 min yelling about Pluto planet status being revoked and the kilogram definition being forever altered. He was very invested in the 2nd part. Legit academic discussion

~~~

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Tuesday 11:49am

From Princess

Next part: I decided to make a fried egg sandwich. He started recording like a cooking show. I almost lit my hair on fire.

~~~

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Tuesday 11:57am

From Princess

Oh I see where everything went wrong. I had 1 drink and 1 ativan. Then I finished his drink. Then I drank his replacement. Why tf did he let me do that??

"You were so cute! How could I say no to this face, bonita?"

...I will remember that

~~~

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Tuesday 12:13pm

From Princess

Apparently we exchanged playlists. This is not good

~~~

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Tuesday 12:28pm

From Princess

Omg I revealed the Murder Panther Sugar Daddy title. Oh fuck. Shit shit shit

~~~

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Tuesday 12:42pm

From Princess

I spent 40 min petting him all over while listing everything I liked and why. He is going to be insufferable for forever after this

~~~

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Tuesday 1:22pm

From Princess

Lisa. Lisa. Holy shit. He said we made a porno. I laughed. He fucking narrated an opening to it. I am dying  I am going to die   I am dead

Him, offscreen: Diego and Bicki make a Porno!

Me, onscreen, twerking on the bed in lace bra

Me: eeeeeeeeeeeeeee ASS AND TITTIES!!!

Diego pops into shot, giggling: Pretty Princess Pussy!!

The whole thing just dissolved into shaky blur and us laughing hysterically

~~~

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Tuesday 1:24pm

From Princess

No I'm not sharing it. What is wrONG WITH YOU??????

~~~

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Tuesday 3:44pm

From Princess

It… did not go the way I thought it would. And apparently he had not watched it either because we were both surprised.

That. Was not sex. Seeing the soft slow with emotions from the outside was pretty damning.

That was lovemaking

~~~

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Tuesday 6:32pm

From Princess

I'm locked in the bathroom. Everything is fucked.

I just… I just hid my face and said "I want to go home." Like a fucking coward hiding behind my hair, I took off upstairs and now I'm here. It's been a long time. I'm still alone

~~~

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Tuesday 6:39pm

From Princess

No shit Sherlock, I know I have intimacy issues.

Men don't love me. Sure I'm fun to fuck for a while. But they don't take a poor fat girl home. Come on, you've seen it firsthand. Clearly, since here I still am by myself

~~~

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Tuesday 6:42pm

From Princess

I don't know what I was thinking. I don't belong here. Guess I'll just ride out the last 2 days then come home

~~~

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Tuesday 6:45pm

From Princess

I think Julio is here. I can hear their voices but can't make out the words

Oh no his sister is here. They're yelling in Spanish, I can't catch any of it

~~~

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Tuesday 10:14pm

From Princess

They screamed for a while, then she finally left. Been silent ever since. I don't know if he's still here

~~~

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Tuesday 10:40pm

From Princess

He's definitely still here. There's a tantrum going on

~~~

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Wednesday 12:32am

From Princess

Fell asleep in the closet corner again. Except when I woke up he was wedged in there with me

Me: … um

Diego: I think I see why you do this

Then he went to sleep on me

~~~

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Wednesday 5:48am

From Princess

Have been talking since 3. Still in the closet.

~~~

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Wednesday 7:10am

From Princess

I'm coming home when this is over. I need some time and space to think. 

~~~

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Wednesday 7:12am

From Princess

Is that even the right term? Do you 'break up' with a sugar daddy???? 

~~~

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Wednesday 7:13am

From Princess

NO I WANT TO KEEP HIM

BITCH I WILL STAB YOU

~~~

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Wednesday 7:16am

From Princess

Gonna shower and go to bed. You mention that last text and I literally will stab you. BFF or not

~~~

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Wednesday 4:40pm

From Princess

Just listened to an hour of descriptions of Mexico.

I am… tempted

~~~

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Wednesday 6:54pm

From Princess

I'm flying home Friday, they just lifted the travel ban here.

~~~

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Wednesday 6:59pm

From Princess

No, no one is happy here. We're both clingy disasters today

~~~

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Wednesday 7:17pm

From Princess

Went downstairs. It's a war zone. We came back upstairs 

~~~

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Thursday 6:19am

From Princess

Couldn't sleep so I'm packing. Diego is watching me from the bed with the biggest, saddest puppy dog eyes in existence.

Effect kinda ruined because I can see his bare ass

~~~

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Thursday 6:22am

From Princess

Why would you ask me that? You know he's an exhibitionist 

~~~

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Thursday 6:23am

From Princess

I can't decide if you're the Best or the Worst BFF ever. Gawd

~~~

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Thursday 6:25am

From Princess

...IMAGE LOADING…

~~~

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Thursday 6:27am

From Princess

Yeah. You see my dilemma now???

~~~

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Thursday 6:28am

From Princess

Yes I bite it! What is wrong with you today???

~~~

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Thursday 6:43pm

From Princess

He spent entire day attached to me. I..??? What do I do with a clingy cartel boss drug lord?? Its too much

~~~

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Friday 8:52am

From Princess

I'm on the plane. He rode here with me. Looked so… broken. Feel like a monster. But I'm scared

~~~

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Friday 1:45pm

From Princess

Lisa. LISA. LISA.

I'm home but but he. Omg

~~~

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Friday 2:38pm

From Princess

There's a tiny stuffed panther in my bag with a note:  I just want to be with you

My very own Tiny Murder Panther 

#damnit diego #murder panther #zash writes #24 fucking 7 hours in this house #rough me up then dick me down #so many feels #literally filth #nasty ass food

[dammit-stark]

Ooo ooo, an au i loooove is flower shop au! Where one character runs a flower shop and flowers with symbolic meanings are used- ugh the fluff/flirting potential 🥰🥰

fun fact: i’ve somehow managed to never write a flower shop au before this??? which is absurd bc it’s a friken classic so this was super fun I really enjoyed this hehe

SEND ME YOUR FAV AU AND ILL WRITE YOU A DRABBLE :)

...

He knows that it’s Pepper’s birthday. He knows because she told him a week ago, pointedly inserted it into all of his various calendars, threatened him with violence and selfish resignation as his assistance. He knows it’s her birthday.

Still, the morning of when JARVIS alerts him that he forgot to get Pepper a present, it catches Tony by surprise.

“Fuck,” He says, rubbing his face as he sits up in bed, “JARVIS, what am I supposed to get her?”

“I’m afraid you did not program me to be able to advise on gift giving, sir,” JARVIS replies, and Tony, his infernal creator, knows it’s said with joyful malice, “But if I may suggest something. Miss Potts has expressed an appreciation for fresh flowers in the past. Sir.”

Tony sighs, pulling on the nearest pair of pants, “You’re a life saver, JARVIS. Send Pep a happy birthday message, will you?”

“Very well, sir.”

“I’m gonna get some flowers. Don’t tell her I forgot.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tony grabs his keys and opens the front door, stopping with one foot over the invisible jamb, “And stop mouthing me, JARVIS. You might sound polite, but I programmed you, I know when you’re sassing me.”

JARVIS is tellingly silent. Tony closes the door behind himself.

So, flowers. Flowers. How hard can flowers be? He passes four flower stands on his way to the burger joint he likes a block from the tower, and he’s positive there’s a quaint little shop the next block over. Surely, he can figure this out.

Except when Tony gets to the shop, a pink and blue awning hanging over him like an insufferably ironic storm cloud, he’s at a complete loss.

Would she like pink or blue? Roses or carnations? Tulips? Lilies? Daisies? Something yellow? Maybe something orange like her hair? Would she be offended by that? Probably. Isn’t there a green thing she likes? Surely, she’s mentioned it before. It’s gotta be somewhere in the recesses of Tony’s unfocused brain, somewhere.

He’s standing at a loss in front of a vibrant display that looks distinctly like the photoshop color picker exploded.

“Excuse me, sir. Can I help you with something, sir?”

“Don’t call me sir.”

“Sorry?”

“I get enough of that from my robots, I don’t need it from- attractive flower salesman. Hi. Tony Stark. Nice to meet you.”

Aforementioned flower salesman blinks, and Tony notes with satisfaction the dee blush high on his cheeks.

“Uh, can I help you find something?”

In a moment, Tony’s moving again, hands fluttering, mind whirring, mouth working without the rest of his body’s knowledge, about as per usual. He picks up a colorful bouquet of various wild flowers, smells it, and puts back with a scrunched nose, “I need a birthday present for my assistant. Something that says ‘Thank you for being in my life. No I didn’t forget your birthday, see. Love you’.”

The salesman looks at his shoes when he talks, nodding, “Well we have a variety of flowers that can express love or lust. A mauve carnation, for example. Or coriander is a lovely way to express the same sentiment. Red roses obviously mean love, and calla lilies symbolize beauty. We can assemble you a beautiful bouquet with these if you would like.”

Tony scrunches his nose like he smelled another disagreeing flower fragrance, “I don’t think you understand. I was thinking of something a little more.. platonic. More gratitude and friendship than sex and love.”

Steve’s head shoots up from the spot on the floor that he had been all but staring a hole through, and his eyes are wide, “Really?”

“Oh, yeah. We don’t really bat for the same teams, if you know what I’m saying.”

The blush returns to Steve’s face, but there’s an excited, hopeful glint in his eyes. And when he speaks, the words come out faster, rushers “Daffodils and peach roses then,” He says with confidence, “Appreciation. Yellow roses, too, maybe. For friendship.

Oh! And we can’t forget about alstroemeria! Better known as Lily of the Incas, they’re beautiful flowers that are most popular in bouquets for platonic love and friendship. What do you think?”

Tony smiles, and Steve’s breath audibly hitches, it’d almost be funny if Tony wasn’t so wooed by all the flower talk, “That sounds great. I’ll take all of it in one big, gorgeous bouquet.”

Steve moves behind the counter, “It’s gonna be pricy.”

Tony’s responding grin is knowing and cool, and his eyes squint minutely at the corners with this joyfulness, “Don’t worry. I can cover it. How fast can you get it done? Can we make this happen today? I know it’s last minute, but this’ll really save my butt.”

Steve reads down the long list of invoice orders ahead of him. He looks up to tell Tony that it’s impossible and- “Give me two hours.”

Apparently his heart (and eyes, and dick) put Tony at the top of the list. Tony has no idea, just smiles cheerfully, and nods, pulling out a shiny black credit card from his back pocket. Steve had always thought the black card thing had been a myth, an urban legend made up by money-grubbing banks and capitalists, but when he slides the card through the machine, it doesn’t bounce.

“Alright,” Steve says as he hands the card back, “I’ll see you in two hours.”

When Tony opens the front door to leave, he wiggles his fingers in a funny goodbye and disappears back into the New York streets. He’s starting to be glad he forgot Pepper’s birthday in the first place, even if she potentially hates him forever for dropping the ball.

Two hours later, Tony returns, and the bell on the green painted door to the quaint shop rings as he enters. Steve is nowhere to be found. A grumpy-looking, long-haired curmudgeon mans the counter instead.

“Hi, I’m here to pick up an order for Stark,” Tony says with a charming smile, one hand coming down to slap the blue painted countertop.

The florist, his name tag reading BUCKY :) in big, ironic letters turns around still frowning, and roots around for Tony’s bouquet. When he turns around, he’s holding two bouquets. He sets them both on the counter. Tony stares at them.

“I’m sorry,” He says, pointing at the redder one of the two, “I only ordered one.”

Bucky points with malice at the unfamiliar bouquet, “Yeah, I know. Apparently this one’s on the house. It’s from Stevie.”

“Stevie, huh?” Tony quips, the corners of his lips turning into a smile.

“Steve, yeah.”

“Tell Steve to call me then. So I can thank him.”

Bucky shakes his head, looking boring and maybe even irritated. He points at the on-the-house arrangement, “His number’s on the card.”

Tony smiles and scoops both bouquets up into his arms.

“You guys really have great service,” Tony jeers, and Bucky continues looking unamused and uninterested, “Thanks, Bucky!”

When Tony gives Pepper her gift, she’s duly impressed by the thoughtful layers to it. Tony proudly tells her what all the flowers mean.

She watches him dubiously from over top the crest of flowers, “So who told you what to get me? Who do I really have to thank?”

Tony shakes his head and refuses to think about JARVIS or Steve (just in case Pepper secretly has mind reading abilities, you can never be too safe), “I did it all by myself, Pep. Come on, give me some credit.”

She still looks suspicious, her nose in a lily, but eventually she nods, “Yeah, sure. You pass. Even if you didn’t think it up yourself, there was obviously some forethought since you can’t just go out and get a custom bouquet the same day. Good job, Tony. You’ve set the bar for next year.”

Tony groans.

It’s quarter to eleven, and Tony’s been staring his own bouquet, carefully placed in a genuine crystal vase on his kitchen counter, for almost an hour now. He finally gets up the nerve to google the symbolism surrounding the flowers and-

They’re all variations on lust or pining. A couple that have alternate meanings of love that Tony tries not to dwell on. He carefully punches the number into his phone and presses dial.

“H-hello?”

“Did I wake you up?”

“Who is this?”

“Tony Stark from the flower shop this morning.”

It sounds like something is dropped, something fumbled, and Steve’s a little breathless when he finally speaks, “Did you, uh, get my flowers?”

Tony’s smiling even though he knows Steve can’t see him, and it’s all kinda ridiculous, but he sees that beautiful bouquet in his kitchen and sees red roses behind his eyes, mauve carnations dancing in his vision, “Yeah,” He says, smiling like an absolute idiot, “I should give you some daffodils in exchange, I appreciated them so much.”

Steve snorts, and Tony imagines him smiling too.

“What? Is that not how it works?”

“I’m glad you appreciated them, Tony Stark. I meant it.”

Tony feels a feeling in his stomach, something like purple lilacs rising through him.

“Wanna go for dinner sometime?”

He imagines Steve’s smile looking like a field of daisies.

“I’d love to.”

#Stevetony #flower shop au #drabble #ask

[youralternantpersonality]

Gaslighting

OC x Reader then Embry x Reader

Warning: abusive tactics are used in this first part.

Part 1: “Gaslight” by Snow Tha Product

Part 2: “New Me” by Ella Eyre

Part 3: “Falling for You” by Tamia

***

“Gaslighting: (verb) to manipulate (someone) by psychological means into questioning their sanity.”

Being young and in love has its perks and downfalls. Isaac and I have been together for about a year and a half now and everything was fine at first, until a few weeks after he asked me to officially be his girlfriend in the beginning.

Oh you a big money spendin' Man who gets the women Big bill droppin' Want it, then you got it Rollie face wearin' If she lookin', then she starin' If she starin', then she carin' But can't put a finger on it

He was supposed to be saving up for college. We had both planned on going to Washington State. Well, he had planned for us to go. I wanted to go to the nearby junior college since I had no idea what I wanted to do. I figured I would save a ton of money getting my basics out of the way by paying half of what I would at a University.

But instead of saving his money, he was buying random crap and flashing it to everyone. I’m talking about new shoes, chains, brand named clothes. Stuff that he could buy later, stuff that wasn’t necessary right now. He was strutting like Instagram influencers—the same people he hated the most and promised to never be like.

You a big game talker, every ex's your stalker You ain't ready for no relationship, but can talk to her You just want some company Every bitch you fuck with either crazy or amazing Then you shady as can fuckin' be

I would catch him constantly flirty and texting random numbers. When I called him out on it, he would call me crazy and make me feel bad for not trusting him. And of course, I’d feel bad and apologize even when he was in the wrong. I loved him after all.

You can't commit and that's your greatest talent Claim you're breaking hearts like back to back Deep inside there's somethin' less than average 'Bout the bitches that you claim to bag Somethin' 'bout the bracket that you at Maybe all the practice that you have Wouldn't do you any good where I'm at Class ain't somethin' you can pay to have

Gaslight pro (pro) Gaslight pro (pro)

Our break-up and make-up game lasted throughout Junior and Senior year. My friends constantly coming at me for not seeing his player ways. Me, not seeing the manipulation he was playing on me. The more I called him out on his bullshit, the more I was crazy, which made me angrier and more depressed.

And you could tell me lies Tell me, tell me lies Tell me I'm trippin' Tell me why, tell me I'm the one Then rewind to a gaslight pro (pro)

Oh you a fuckin' Prince Charming out in public I'm like "Yeah, yeah, yeah" Lead me on, then they leave Then it's back to never there Throw the blame out everywhere "No one can compare" yeah, yeah You just never wrong, but here's your problem Now, I don't care

It was a game with him. Everyone told me to stay away, but no one knew him as I knew him. No one knew the side of Isaac as I did. Behind those deep silver eyes and freckled face, you wouldn’t believe how much of a softy he was. It was like he would pull a 180 on everyone.

But that was the thing. No matter how many times you pull 180’s, you’re still doing a 360. And eventually, you’ll get dizzy and fall apart.

You playin' with my mind, somehow every time Pretty lies come right out your mouth, and that ain't right Gotta fuckin' draw the line I've been just your type Prey on any insecurity you fucking find Got me questionin' my memory You're a narcissist, intensity You startin' off the problem, causin' drama Then you got me second guessin' me And I don't give a fuck which house your Moon is What sign you are or how you grew up You're a fuckin' adult and you got to get it together You're a dick and you're manipulative as fuck, ugh

Gaslight pro (pro) Gaslight pro (pro)

“What the fuck Isaac! Are you serious?!” I yell at my soon-to-be ex-boyfriend. Out in the open at school, making out with Francesca DeLaurentis, the bitches of all bitches in the school. The look of shock on his face couldn’t describe how he felt.

“Aw, what’s the matter? Mad that your ex finally has something worth living for?” She laughs as if that was my problem. I ignored her.

“Really?! You couldn’t have the balls to at least break up with me first before sleeping with the known walking STD of the school?!” that seemed to snap him out of his trance.

“Seriously? That’s the best you got. You know what, fine. I should have, but guess what chubs, I didn’t. Plus, I don’t know why I even bothered staying with you. Look at you, why would someone like me bothered staying with someone like you. Look at you, why would someone like me, who can be with this fine ass here” slapping Francesca’s nonexisting ass, “be with someone like you? A sloth. You’re lazy, you don’t bother to present yourself, and really, could you at least put on make-up. Give me something to look at.” He said as if I was the one holding him back and I was the problem.

“Fuck you!” I said, before knocking him in the face and storming off. Lousy piece of shit.

And you could tell me lies Tell me, tell me lies Tell me I'm trippin' Tell me why, tell me I'm the one Then rewind to a gaslight pro (pro)

Gaslight pro (pro) Gaslight pro (pro)

After that day, I threw everything of his that wasn’t worth money away. Sold what I could (thankfully his dumbass left a lot of valuable things here) and kept up with school. As soon as graduation was over with, he’d be gone and a thing of the past. And I couldn’t be happier about that.

It was painful, to be honest, but throughout that time “with” him, by slowly stepping away from him emotionally, it became easy leaving him for good.

And you could tell me lies Tell me, tell me lies Tell me I'm trippin' Tell me why, tell me I'm the one Then rewind to a gaslight pro (pro)

And you could tell me lies Tell me, tell me lies Tell me I'm trippin' Tell me why, tell me I'm the one Then rewind to a gaslight pro (pro)

Pulling up to the school the following week, was like a ton of weightlifting and falling on my shoulders. It was both painful and satisfying. Painful because I had to endure my ex, satisfying because my support group was here. Graduation and summer is only 2 months away and I couldn’t wait to start a semi-new life.

“Hey! Y/n!” Clair, my best friend, called out to me.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Did you hear the big news?”

“Francesca finally got pregnant?”

“No, well, maybe. But no,” she looks over my shoulder and smiles, “Someone had a nice glow-up.” I looked at her with questionable eyes and followed her eyesight. And boy was I glad. Embry Call struts the hallway as if he was a piece of gold crafted by God. He’d always been adorable, cute, and charming. Quiet and conservative among his friends.

“Hot damn,” I said under my breath. And it was like he heard me; he looked at me straight in the eyes and stopped in the hallway. At that moment, I felt warm and fuzzy—it was weird. His mouth opened a little and a grin grew on his face. His friends, Jared Cameron and Paul Lahote nudged him and followed his eyesight. They looked at each other and started laughing and pushing one another. Embry looked at them and said something before they started shoving each other.

“What I’d kill to be under anyone of them,” Clair said.

“I call dibs on Embry,” I said looking at her. She looked back at me and smiled then shrugged her shoulders.

“That’s fine, give me Paul for the night and I’m good.”

“Gasp! What about Quil? Your future husband and father of your kids.” I say dramatically and quietly to ourselves. She smiles and rolls her eyes.

“Oh, he’s still my baby daddy. I just want to try him for a night.” She says, like the hoe (metaphorically) she is.

“As long as I get Jared, I think we’ll be okay.” Kim walks up to us watching the rowdy 3 boys in the hallway. The bell rings, signaling the warning before class starts.

“Well girls, let's get our asses in there,” I said with faults determination. I look back and see Embry watching me. I smile and turn away. Unknowing to either one of us, another set of eyes was watching closely nearby.

#embrycall #embrycallxreader #embry call x reader #embry-call-x-reader #embry call #embrycallembrycallxreaderembry call x readerembry-call-x-readerembry calltwilighttwilightsagatwilightwolfpackembry call twilight #twilight #twilightsaga #twilightwolfpack #embry call twilight #new moon #newmoon #eclipse #breaking dawn #breakingdawn #breakingdawnpartone #BreakingDawnPart2 #breakingdawnpart1 #Bella Swan #bella cullen #bellaswan #bellacullen #edward cullen #edwardcullen #midnightsun #midnight sun

[bitchardhendricks]

Well I’ve Never Been to Heaven (But I’ve Been to Oklahoma) Pt 8

In the time of corona, I miss my parents and I miss my hometown more than I ever have before. It means so much to me that I can share these bits of Tulsa with you all. This story is for everyone who loves their hometown even when they outgrow it, or when it was never made for them in the first place. Catch up on previous installments here, then come tell me about your thoughts about this fic, about your own hometown, or if you’re like Jared and maybe never had one, tell me about the town you wish your hometown could be. 

***

Richard wakes up to the smell of coffee and the muffled sound of someone humming. After getting his bearings, he pads into the kitchen and blinks in sleepy surprise at the sight of Jared in a white polo shirt and khakis covered by his mom’s apron - KISS THE COOK emblazoned across the front - scrambling some eggs and humming what sounds like “Fly Me to the Moon” under his breath. 

“Uhh...hey Betty Crocker. What’s um, with the apron?” 

Jared startles, the spatula he’s holding waving in a wide arc as he jumps. “Oh! Richard, you scared me. Good morning! I caught your mother before she left, she said she had a bunch of errands to run before your sister arrived, but your father carpooled to work so we do have access to a car. She also said the plan is to meet your sister at the restaurant at 6:00. And then she tried to cook me steak and eggs for breakfast and put me in this ensemble when I said I was going to wait and make breakfast for you."

“Jesus,” Richard rolls his eyes, because of course she did. “Sorry, she’s - she’s just like that.”

Jared laughs brightly, “I don’t mind. If I had a nickel for every time someone tried to force feed me a dead animal...” he trails off, shaking his head in seemingly fond remembrance while Richard stares on in horror. 

“Okay so...my mom’s running errands and my dad’s at work,” Richard sucks his teeth. “Um. What do you want to do, I guess? I mean, we have some time to kill before Caitlyn gets here.” Leaving isn't that appealing, but staying is worse. The thought of hanging out in the house all day ratchets the tension in his shoulders higher.

“Are there any people or places in Tulsa you’d like to see while you’re home?” Jared asks, plating some eggs and setting them on the table alongside a mug of coffee prepared just the way Richard likes it. 

“Not really,” Richard shrugs.

“Gosh, really? Tulsa has such a rich history, though! The Native American arts and artifacts, the Art Deco architecture - did you know the University of Tulsa library has the world’s largest selection of collected works and papers by James Joyce?” He brings his own plate of eggs and a mug of tea to the table and sits across from Richard, who replies with his mouth full, “Um, yes but how do you know that?”

“I did some light Wikipedia research while you were sleeping,” Jared smiles shyly and it spreads into a full beaming thing, his eyes shining with untold fun facts and amusing anecdotes that he no doubt memorized and will pepper into conversation throughout their visit. A reluctant smile tugs at Richard’s lips - Jared’s pure excitement about this small, strange place they’re in eases some of the tension in Richard’s shoulders. The coffee doesn’t hurt, either. The prospect of spending the day with nothing to do but make that look appear on Jared’s face sounds kind of fun, actually. 

“This is supposed to be a vacation kinda, so um. Ok, let’s do it. Sightseeing.”

Richard didn’t think it was possible, but Jared’s smile grows even sunnier. “Sightseeing! I can’t wait.”

***

Richard showers and dresses while Jared clears away the breakfast dishes, then they head out in his dad’s grey Toyota. It’s a warm and sunny June day and as they turn off of his parents’ block, Richard spots three separate groups of kids roving the side streets, all of them clearly headed to the neighborhood pool with their beach towels slung over their shoulders and flip-flops smacking the pavement. 

“So, uh. Sightseeing. I’m not sure what sights there really are to see in Tulsa, heh. You probably don’t want to do like the 8th grade field trip thing, right?” Richard intones dramatically, “‘On this site in 1917 some oil baron assholes stole a bunch of money from women and children,’ that kinda thing.”

Jared giggles. “Oh, I want to see anything and everything. Are there any other places you and Big Head used to go? Or I suppose...we are here for the reunion, after all. Maybe you could show me the version of Tulsa that high school Richard would have thought was interesting?”

“Ha, I’m not sure anyone cares about what high school me thought.”

“I would,” Jared says earnestly, he’s always so fucking earnest, and the back of Richard’s neck heats. He tugs at the collar of his button down and clears his throat. “Alright then, get ready for ah, well, um. You’ll see. It can be a, uh, surprise.”

Richard has to turn up NPR to drown out how loudly Jared is smiling at him.

They head south until the industrial buildings and chain restaurants make way into wider streets and bigger trees, past LaFortune park (“This is one of the highest spots in Tulsa,” Richard points out, “My dad would take me up here to watch the Perseids meteor shower every August.”), until finally Richard turns onto a long curving street cutting through a lush green lawn. He can see glimpses of the spaceship-like building set back from the intersection, the sharp plane of the glass windows broken up by huge white angular beams that form brutal isosceles triangles all around the circular structure. As the road curves around, Richard slows the car to a stop and says, “Ta-da!” while Jared gapes. 

“I read something about this!” he says, craning his neck to see the entirety of the statue - two massive bronze hands pressed together in prayer. 

“Yep. If you had any doubt we’re in the buckle of the Bible belt, look no further. I present to you, the largest bronze statue in the world. And back there, you see that tower that looks like it came out of The Jetsons? There’s an eternal flame on top of it. Pretty much every TV preacher scamming people out of money has gone to school here at good ol’ Oral Roberts.” 

“Well, the Church does have a way of making statements through art,” Jared murmurs. 

“Yeah, well the statement it made to me was ‘get the fuck outta here,’” Richard says with a laugh, but it comes out harsher than he means it to. “I uh. This was where I was when I decided to apply to Stanford.”

Jared turns away from the statue to look at Richard who’s looking over the steering wheel and beyond at the tall gold buildings of the ORU campus. “Or, well down the street actually, there’s a coffee shop called Nordaggio’s - anyway, I was there with my bio lab partner who was this total fucking douchebag, and this girl walks in and asks if anyone can give her a ride. And she was kinda cute so my lab partner was all, ‘Richard you have a car, Richard we gotta give her a ride,’ and so he like, made me offer her a ride and she wanted to come here. And it was - it was weird, she didn’t have anything with her, she didn’t know anybody, and she was coming here, she wanted to see the Eternal Flame, she kept talking about how she was looking for something, she just needed to go to the Eternal Flame and she’d find it. And all I could think was...you’re not gonna find it here. But I think I was telling myself that, you know?”

Jared nods. Richard can’t see it very well out of his periphery, but he knows the look on Jared’s face that says he knows what it’s like to be looking for something the world won’t seem to let you find. 

“And I asked her if she was ok, if she needed me to call someone, which I, I didn’t even have a phone but the whole thing felt off you know, and she said she would be fine because God would take care of her and then she got out of the car and just like, disappeared into the dark. And I went home that night and filled out my application for Stanford because...” he trails off, his eyes narrowed as if looking for the girl again on the grounds of the campus. 

“Because?” Jared prompts, and Richard blinks, shrugs. “Because God wasn’t looking out for me, so I should probably start doing it. Not that I’ve done a great job so far, heh. But even then with Pied Piper and everything, I had this whole notebook of ideas and I knew I had to find something...bigger. Than this.”

“Mmm. It sounds to me like that was what she was looking for too. Maybe you both helped each other find it.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe,” Richard says, chewing his lip. “Hey, those eggs didn’t really stick with me, you wanna get lunch?”

#silicon valley hbo #jarrich #jared dunn #richard hendricks #sv squad #my sv fic #well i've never been to heaven