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hatelangdon · 1 year ago

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Fever

Pt 1, Pt 2 / 3k words.

(Franken!Kyle x Witch!Reader)

Hurt/comfort, & fluff, Slight angst (it's just me rambling about Kyle's mistreatment from the Coven)

(🚨 Warnings: Talks of Fever, Being sick, Vomiting (not in detail), seperation anxiety, Crying, Zoe and Madison being terrible caregivers so neglect, problems with eating and drinking🚨)

Summary: Kyle doesn't feel good, he hasn't for a while...but what he needs now is kindness, understanding, and care from someone who actually wants the best for him.

(A/N: We all just want Kyle to feel better, he's so sweet. You could honestly just read this one by itself, but if you want more lore I would look into the last 2 parts...I definitely got carried away so I understand if ya'll don't feel like reading all this but I TOLD YALL I LOVE WHUMP but Misty is back and Kyle is wearing silly straw glasses so how mad could you be? I would highly recommend that you listen to this song near the end of the story , it adds a layer of sentiment that I can't even describe. I hope you have all enjoyed this little series as much as i've enjoyed writing it <3)

Also, this is not proofread so there's probably errors, ya'll know the drill by now.

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When you returned with the broom and dustpan to clean the glass up, Kyle was laying in the bed twirling the ring around his pinky. He was so enamored by its beauty that he barely even noticed when you came back, until you started to sweep the glass off the floor.

He realized your presence and perked up, watching you with big eyes.

“H-help?” He started sitting up, but you gently pushed him back down onto the pillows.

"I got it Kyle. You need to rest, and I don't want you to accidentally step on something" You assured him.

Cordelia had taught him how to sweep since he basically became the coven’s butler after Zoe and Madison decided to bring him back from the dead. This always raised ethical concerns in your mind because…why would they do that?

Kyle must’ve had dreams of his own, he was in college, he had friends that cared about him, he had a life that he wanted to live. Now he was unable to communicate and in constant pain from the terrible stitch job that Madison and Zoe had used to put him back together. His body never felt like his own, and thats because it wasn't...fully; They had decided to stitch Kyle back together using the body parts of his fellow frat brothers, which caused a lot of issues for both his mental and physical health.

It was all wrong. He was wrongfully killed in a bus crash, by Madison's hand and then he was brought back to be Zoe and Madison's personal toy & used as "the help"

Bringing someone back from the dead after you killed them, just so you could have sex and make them clean your house and serve you drinks didn't seem morally correct or fair. Those two had played “build a boyfriend” with Kyle’s life and didn't even take care of him properly.

Kyle never once took his eyes off of you while you swept, he had always admired how pretty you were and how warm your heart was.

After all of the glass was cleaned up and disposed of, you sat on the side of the bed, gently taking your ring from Kyle's hand and putting it back on your finger

"I told you I would be back" you stroked his hand with your thumb, and he gave you a gentle, sleepy, smile.

“P-p-pretty” Kyle blinked at you, still smiling

“yeah, it is a pretty ring isn't it? I can get you one like it, would you like that Kyle?"

He took a minute, allowing himself to fully decipher your words, before nodding and placing a gentle hand on your cheek

“Y-you pretty.” He blinked hard, and nodded again to insure you knew what he was talking about.

You felt your face heat up and your heart flutter like it housed a butterfly garden,

“thank you Kyle. You are very kind.”

Your words only made his smile bigger.

You had moved yourself to the side of the bed, your back resting on the wall. Kyle balled himself next to you, resting his head on your lap.

You rubbed the side of his head with your thumb to let him know that you were with him, even as he slept. You could feel that he still had a fever....in fact he was burning up. Luckily, he was being taken care of and resting, maybe that was all that he needed.

Kyle only slept for an hour before all hell broke loose

You had stayed where you were, you didn't mind since Kyle was resting peacefully on your lap and no one really noticed that you hadn't come out of your room, it was still pretty early in the day.

You just sat there watching tv on your phone. Kyle had started to stir in your lap, his eyebrows furrowed like he was uncomfortable. He curled in on himself tighter, practically hugging his knees to his chest.

You ran your nails down his spine, hoping to comfort him a bit. His eyes suddenly opened and he sat up, looking panicked and tapping his chest desperately trying to convey something to you.

Your eyes widened, you were just as confused as he was

“Um- what's wrong? Are you choking?” You were very unsure “is it your stitches???”

Kyle’s eyes were tearing up and he started turning red, as he continued to try and show you what was wrong with him by patting his chest. He started gagging and you realized what the issue was, quickly.

“NO! NO! KYLE PLEASE DO NOT THROW UP ON MY BED” You practically sprung 4 feet off the bed and tackled the trashcan by your desk, luckily there was a bag in it. You rushed it over and put it in front of him.

“You’re okay Kyle, just let it up” you rubbed his back gently, as he dry heaved over the bin, sobbing. He didn’t understand why this was happening to him, why his stomach hurt so much, and why his throat burned. The muscle tension from him being bent over and heaving caused his stitches to pull on his skin, which made his experience much more painful.

You hated to see him this way, you didn’t think it would get this bad but he was clearly much sicker than you had anticipated, the sound of him being sick and his desperate cries broke your heart, but all you could do was stay there with him and talk him through it.

“I know it hurts Ky, I know. Just keep breathing. It’ll be over soon.” You pressed your lips to the back of his neck, rubbing on his shoulders.

You could tell he was finished when the heaving stopped and he was just crying with his head in the bin.

You took it away from him with your eyes closed tying up the bag, you’d deal with it later.

Kyle was back lying on the bed, curled up in fetal position while his body shook with sobs. He was exhausted and everything hurt.

“Ky, I know you don’t feel good. I’m sorry.” You were gentle with him, squeezing his hand “I’m gonna get you something to drink okay? You need to hydrate. It’ll help your throat.” you tried to sound encouraging, but he didn’t seem to care at all.

He turned to you, sniffling while his eyes still pooled with tears and his nose blushed in bright hue of strawberry rouge, he held his hand out expectantly.

You looked around confused at first, until you realized that he was eyeing your ring. He had remembered.

You smiled, and pushed it into his palm, closing his fingers around it and kissing the back of his hand.

You made your way down to the kitchen to get some water from the brita, you used some old water bottle you got from a school event, it was best to give Kyle a drink with a lid, because he was prone to suddenly jerking his body. You came back upstairs, where Kyle was staring at the wall completely worn out.

“I’m back, ky”

He just hummed, his eyes closed to keep the light out. You had noticed Kyle didn't like to drink water that much, he didn’t really know why he needed to, so Zoe and Madison would just give him Diet Coke and apple juice all day to keep him quiet. This was a habit you could have fixed, but you didn't feel like arguing and Kyle needed fluids and electrolytes in him immediately.

You opened your nightstand, You kept cherry flavored liquid iv in your top drawer because you were also prone to forgetting to hydrate. You poured the powder in, shaking it up so it would be dissolved.

You kneeled next to the bed, running your hands through Kyle’s hair, massaging his scalp.

“Here Kyle, sip it. I made it sweet for you, it’ll help you feel a bit better”

He nodded, sipping on the water bottle, he liked it enough to take it from your hands and try to drink from it himself, it took him 10 seconds before accidentally squirting himself in the face, flinching

"Careful, Kyle" you took it from him, and he grunted.

You looked around your room for a better straw for him to sip on, your eyes landed on your desk. You had a pair of those silly straw glasses, from your little cousin's birthday party. You looked between the glasses and Kyle's wet face and knew exactly what he needed.

You grabbed them and tapped Kyle on the shoulder so he would look up at you.

“I’m gonna put these on you, alright?”

Kyle was intrigued by the tubing, but he recognized that they were also glasses of some kind and allowed you to put them behind his ears.

You were careful putting the straw back into the cup, making sure he would be able to actually drink it.

“Okay Ky, these are very special glasses,” you showed him the part of the straw that went into his mouth and he just stared at you, tilting his head in confusion “You’re just gonna drink from it like a regular straw.”

You helped him put it in between his lips and he did as he was told, sucking on it like a normal straw. When he realized that the liquid was circling his eyes and coming all the way around the glasses, he immediately gave you a giddy smile thinking it was the coolest thing in the world.

He suddenly latched onto your waist from where you stood in front of him, hugging you close. His head rested on your chest while he happily sipped on his water. This took you by surprise, but all you did was pat his blonde head and return the favor by wrapping your arms around his back, giggling at the unanticipated declaration of love.

“Y/n care Kyle?” He took the straw out of his mouth, lifting his head to look you in the eyes.

You nodded, giving him a smile. You had never felt so much love and admiration for someone in such a little amount of time.

“Yes Kyle, I care about you very much. I will always value you and make sure you’re treated well from now on.”

He smiled, and went back to sipping his drink through his silly little glasses, still holding onto you.

All you wanted to do was keep him safe and comfortable in your arms but you still had other things to attend to, like breakfast for both of you…well brunch.

“Kyle,” You were careful with your movements as you wriggled your way out of his grip, you watched his entire face drop as he reached out for you once again wondering why you suddenly didn’t want to cuddle him. It took every ounce of your strength to not jump right back into the bed and hold him.

“I gotta make us some food, are you hungry?” You put your hands on the sides of his face.

“Hungry.” He repeated, nodding.

“Okay, I’m gonna make you something. Do you know what you want?”

“Mac n cheese.”

“Alright, I’ll make you some Mac and cheese.” You made your way to the door and Kyle tried to follow, holding his water and looking at you like a lost puppy.

“Ky, you can’t come. You’re sick honey.” You guided him back to the bed

“Cold. B-bored.” He whined, trying to pull you into the bed with him. If he wasn’t sick he probably would have been able to.

“No Kyle, I gotta go. I’ll only be gone a little while.”

That’s when the tears started, he was exhausted and these past couple of days had been really difficult for him. He felt like you weren’t listening to him, like you didn’t care.

“Oh no no no, Kyle please don’t cry my angel,” You sat with him, wiping his tears away “I know you don’t feel good and you want me to hold you, I promise I will come back. I know it’s hard for you to understand, but I would never lie to you Ky.”

He sniffled, he didn’t get it 100%, words always got fuzzy in his mind but as he studied your face, he realized the sincerity in your eyes.

“I think it will help if I make the room comfy for you, hm?” You got up and closed your black out curtains which helped take some strain off of Kyle’s eyes and dull his headache, you had twinkling fairy lights that added some warmth to the room.

Kyle looked around, seeing the change in scenery and almost instantly he felt calmer.

Autumn had just begun, Kyle always loved the change of the seasons, but autumn was his favorite. It was so cozy and pretty.

You set up your laptop on a pillow near him, turning on the first episode of “over the garden wall” and covering him back up with your weighted blanket.

He suddenly felt relieved of all the tension left in his body.

“Is this better?” You rubbed the bottom of his back and he nodded, sipping away on his drink.

He was so entranced by the show, that you were able to slip out without saying another word.

You went down into the kitchen where you were graced by the presence of Misty dancing to Fleetwood Mac and twirling around in her flowy clothes

“Good morning, darlin!” She took your hand and twirled you, “Can I interest you in some French toast? I think I made too much batter.”

Misty was by far your favorite sister in the coven, she was so kind and sympathetic, especially towards the vulnerable creatures of the world.

“oh Misty, you know that I love your French toast, but I gotta make a mac & cheese cup for Kyle so I’m probably gonna eat one too.” You tried to make your way over to the pantry, but Misty pulled you back towards her playfully.

“no, you both can eat my French toast it's better for ya, and I'll even put some strawberries and cream on top to sweeten the deal.”

You happily obliged and sat on one of the bar stools in front of the stove watching Misty do her thing.

“What’re you doing with Kyle, where’s Madison?”

You raised your eyebrows, “Well there was some conflict between the two of them so I decided it would be best if they took a pause- and Kyle is pretty sick, so I told him I’d take care of him.” While it wasn't technically a lie, it also wasn't the truth but you couldn't tell Misty that you had froze Madison in time and kept her in her room for the past 2 days.

“Aw that’s too bad, why didn’t you tell me the poor angel was sick? I made some elderberry gummies a couple of days ago.” She flipped the toast in the pan, “They do wonders for the immune system, we're coming up on cold and flu season. I'm gonna get ya’ll some, I'll be right back!” she skipped off to her room her golden locks bouncing behind her, “if you smell something burning, just take the pan off the heat!”

She came back with a mason jar, filled with dark purple star shaped gummies,

“these will help him get better faster, but you should probably take some too.”

You nodded, giving her a big smile “Thanks Misty, you're the kindest person I know.”

“Awww, you don't have to say that. I try to help out where I can. I've seen you do the same, don't think that big heart of yours goes unnoticed.” She gave you a wink as she plated up French toast for both Kyle and You.

“I’ll cut his up,” She grabbed a butter knife from the drawer, cutting the toast in tiny square pieces, “Now, you go take this up and make sure that boy is taken care of!” She handed both plates off to you and turned her little radio up louder, quietly humming the lyrics to herself while she cooked.

“You could be my silver spring Blue-green colors flashin' I would be your only dream Your shinin' autumn ocean crashin"

The music followed along as you made your way back up the spiral staircase, opening the door to your bedroom to see Kyle resting peacefully with his cheek smushed against your pillow, his eyes sleepily taking in the calm scenes of the show.

“Ky, Misty made us some French toast” you sing-songed.

He turned to you eyebrows furrowed. That wasn't what he asked for., you noticed his confused expression and took a seat on the bed right next to him.

“I know it's not what you asked for, but did you wanna try?” You asked encouragingly.

He could smell it, and he liked the smell, so he was willing to try. He opened his mouth for you to feed him and you stabbed a piece with your fork, placing it in.

He chewed it up, it was very sweet so he liked it and showed you by opening his mouth for another piece. If he wasn't sick, you wouldn't have babied him so much, but you could still feel the warmth of fever on his skin so you needed to coddle him for just a little bit more.

and after a few minutes and what felt like magic you had managed to feed Kyle and yourself with no mess, you placed your dishes on your desk you would worry about them later.

Kyle had felt much better, but he still wanted you all to himself.

“Y/n done?” He perked his head up and looked at you with his big puppy eyes,

“Yes Kyle, I’m all done with everything” You came right over and grabbed his hand, which caused him to smile, shyly.

“L-lay with Kyle..and-and watch p-p-pumpkin?” He pointed to the show, wanting you to enjoy it as much as he did even though you were the one who introduced it.

“Of course, Ky.”

And with that, you wrapped your body right around his, holding him close to your chest. Your fingers intertwined as both of your faces were illuminated by the warm orange lighting of the show. You didn’t know what to call your relationship, you didn’t know if Zoe would ever return, and you didn’t know if you would ever unfreeze Madison by your own will…but you did know one thing, You would love Kyle forever and no one else would ever be able to hurt him as long as there was breath in your body.

#american horror story #ahs coven #ahs fandom #ahs murder house #evan peters #franken kyle #tate langdon #kyle spencer #whump #whumpee #sickfic #hurt/comfort #american horror story coven #american horror murder house #ahs fanfic #evan peters x reader

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malavera · 2 years ago

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18+ From the Window Series: From the Kitchen — Tom Cruise

↳ You’re the young hot neighbor who’s staying with your Aunt for the whole Summer and your Aunt happens to be Tom Cruise’s neighbor and they’re very good friends. You being 26 and still living the life to the fullest, of course you gotta add more spices in life—By being the naughty neighbor towards her Aunt’s 59 year’s old neighbor.

summary: you and your aunt visited Tom on his day off.

warnings: 18+, the big age gap, very kinky, the use of a word ‘kitten’, tom cruise being the sigma person as he is, oral (m receiving), fingerfucking, p in v from the back, fucking on the counter, creampie, basically this part is smut so just brace yourself – minors dni! cuz i suck at warnings.

tagging: @tomsf18 @deanscroissant @moondustfairies @helloitstsyu @call-sign-shark @love2write2626 @back-tooo-black

check out the series!

The breezy Sunday morning made Tom wanted to stay in. He loves enjoying a one breezy day engulfed in the warmth of his home. Other than that, he shouldn't be back on the set in 2 days, might as well spend the time relaxing or do some chores around the house. Despite being Hollywood Royalty, when he gets a chance for a mini break, he'd love to have the house all to himself and excuse his staff at home to go home. He loves doing things by himself, though he needs them around when he's not around to take care of the house.

Coffee is the law. Starting your day without a cup of coffee would be something that Tom believes it’s the most important beverage, aside from water, to start the day. Grabbing the pot to pour the black liquid to his cup, his eyes never leaving his iPad screen flipping through the digital pages. This is one of the routines that Tom does in the morning to keep himself aligned with his ‘chakra’. Tom snorted to himself when he reads a headline of an article that says, Why men over 40’s should not be looking for women under 30’s.

He poured a milk to his cup before stirring the liquid to mix them together. His thumb scrolls down through the article, aiming to read the point. Overall, it says that it’s like watching a 25 year old man being in a relationship with a 15 year old girl. He shrugged to himself, nodding to the point as well as bringing the cup to his mouth.

He agrees.

He couldn’t imagine himself dating a woman who’s not in their 30’s especially in his age. But, a certain someone could make an exception to that article. His whole perspective has gone away once he opens his front door to his neighbor with her young niece, carrying a plate of cookies. Maria greets him with a good morning with a cheery tone laced in her voice, said ‘We never seen you leaving the house and we thought why not share you these cookies that we’ve baked.’

Tom’s lips slightly parted, his eyes were set behind the lovely madam, who’s carrying the plate of cookies, on her particularly, beautiful, hot, young niece who gave him a show… 2 days ago. The corner of her lips pulled into a smirk, her hairs tucked behind her ears, she’s wearing a sundress that ends on her mid thighs despite the breezy weather. Tom snapped back to reality, shifting his attention to Maria.

“That’s very kind of you, thank you. Would you like to come in?” With his 1 billion dollar smile, who wouldn’t accept the sweet gesture. They both stepped in as Tom leads them towards the living room.

“Oh yes! I don’t think I’ve introduced you to my niece… This is, Y/N. She’s staying for the whole summer to help me out with my clothing-line business.”

“I see.” Tom nodded with a teethed smile.

“Show your manners, girl! You’re not 17 anymore. Why should I keep doing this to you?” Maria hissed to her niece’s ears, nothing but a grin plastered on her face.

“You have a lovely home, mister Cruise.”

His heart seemed to skipped a beat when he heard you spoke. With a pursed lips, his smile never leaving his face as he nods a long. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“How was Heather?”

Heather? Who’s Heather? The charmer has left the room. You couldn’t help but become curious to this Heather, is she an important person in his life? Is he seeing someone? You know you have no right to pry, but you just can’t imagine walking into your bedroom looking at your window to find this Heather girl bouncing on top of what’s yours. Your aunt and Tom chatted and laughed here and there for a good 5 minutes before her phone rang as she excused herself out to take the phone call, leaving both of you alone.

“A glass of milk would go with the cookies.” The charmer has returned. Tom’s shoulders tensed a little when he heard you spoke. He watched you push yourself off from his leathered sofa before you bend, a little too much just to grab the plate of cookies from the coffee table, exposing your cleavage.

“I’m gonna warm these up, would you mind showing the Kitchen, mister Cruise?” Your angelic voice seemed to have almost put Tom in a trance. He cleared his throat before he opens his mouth to navigate you through his house. Once you leave the room, your Aunt came back.

“What is she doing?”

“She’s helping me heat up those cookies which, thank you again by the way.”

“Oh, it’s not a problem. Y/N woke up early today, I don’t know if the girl even sleeps but I woke up to the smell of freshly baked cookies. Those are really good, you should definitely try it later by the way, and oh.. She then said she wanted to share those with you but she’s too shy to come over and knock on your door,” Maria chuckled. “So, she asked me to come with her.”

Shy? Tom doesn’t think that it’s the suitable word coming out from you. He doesn’t think that the action that you just pulled, 2 days ago, for him was you being Shy. Tom chuckles to himself, he remembered every detail. He remembered your smooth legs, your rounded ass, your pink plump lips. Best believe, he planned on doing something about what you pulled. But, he stopped himself realizing that he doesn’t know about this young neighbor. Especially, he doesn’t know about her age.

“Oh, Tom? Would you tell Y/N that I’m leaving to run an errand? Tell her to clean up the kitchen later too. I really need to go.”

“It’s no problem, Maria.”

You’ve been in his kitchen for such a long time when Tom came back to the living room. A shattered sound he could heard from the living room and a grunt coming out from your mouth. Tom hurried off towards his Kitchen but forced himself to stop once he sees you bend down on your knees against the tiled floor.

Your ass is on display to him…

No panties.

It was indeed an accident—you accidentally elbowed the bottle of milk which caused it to fall down to the floor. The bottle shattered, some of the milk had splattered to your legs before you got down on your knees trying to wipe them clean using the towel from the stove. You turned your head to your shoulder to find Tom frozen, watching the whole thing.

“I’m so sorry, mister Cruise! It was an accident, I-” You couldn’t finish your sentence before Tom has got you back on your feet as he tugs at your arm. You shrieked when he pushed you against the counter bending your over a little bit.

“What about that stunt you pulled 2 days ago? Was that an accident too?” Tom hissed in your ear, you whimpered but you smirked. Grinding your ass against his front, Tom grunted looking down watching you rubbing your ass like a dog.

Release the girl, Tom.

She’s just a kid, but such a slut—she needs to be punished for what she has done.

She needs to be punished right? What did she do? She spilled your bottle of milk that you could easily get another 5 bottles if you want to. Let her go.

Tom chose to ignore his conscience. His arm circled to wrap around your front, before pulling it down towards your heat. His fingertips grazed against your pussy folds before playing with your clit, his middle finger rubs up and down separating your pussy folds before he went down to tease your hole, soaking his finger.

“You want this, right?” It was a rhetorical question before he shoved one finger inside your cunt, earning a loud gasp. Tom placed his face on the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent through your soft hair. You smell so sweet, and a little hint of apple.

“I know you’ve always wanted this, Kitten.” He thrusts his finger in and out of your cunt, he enjoys listening to your little moans and grunts before he adds another finger.

He curls them inside you resulting a loud moan from you, “Mmhh… Yes, sir.” He takes it that you seemed to enjoy it more like that so he kept doing it. His cock grew hard by each seconds through your moans before he decides to undo his pants using one hand. He groaned in relief once his pants are on the floor, his cock slapping against his abdomen before he spits on his hand and give himself a couple of pumps.

He took out his fingers from your cunt, pushing you more to bend over the counter, placing his hands on your hips before he guides his cock towards your glistening entrance.

“I’m gonna fuck this pussy until I cum good.” Tom hissed in your ear before he wraps his hands around your throat and shoved his cock into your cunt. You gasped a choked moan out from your lips, finally living out your dream, feeling his thick cock inside your warm cunt.

A satisfied smile splattered on your face, your eyes rolled back as you listen to him grunt in your ears. He’s not going slow on you, he roughly drills his cock in your pussy sending you to oblivion, literally.

“Tom! I’m just dropping the keys for Y/N.” You shrieked and your eyes widened when you hear your aunt’s heels clicking against the floor in the living room. Tom’s hand went to clasp your mouth, his hips never stop thrusting upwards, almost made you stand on your tippy toes.

“Okay! I’ll let her know.” Tom hollered, pushing himself off from your back to grab your hips. When he aimed his hips at a certain angle, he found the G-spot resulting a muffled shrieked from you.

“Tom, is everything okay?” Tom clasped your mouth, hard.

“Yes, Maria! Everything is fine-” Tom couldn’t finish his sentence when he felt your pussy clenched on his cock.

“Okay, I’m leaving now!”

Tom grunted in relief before he proceed his action, bringing himself to his own release. “Listen up you slut! I’m gonna cum in this pussy, hard and she’s going to swallow everything. Not even a drop. You hear me?” Tom hissed.

“Y-yes.. Sir!” You whimpered.

“Mmh.. I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum kitten.. Fuck!” He pressed his hips feeling himself releasing his load to your cunt, giving himself another thrust—his thighs vibrated from the sensation.

“Argh! Fuckkk…” Tom panted, soon he slowly pull out his softening cock. His hand went to cover your pussy by instinct, thinking his cum could be dropping out of it.

Your body feels weak but you pushed yourself off from the counter either way, turning your body to him. A sly smirk on your face before you grab a cookie from the plate. Tom watches as you took a bite from the cookie, your thumb went up to graze the corner of your lips before you chew.

“Have I lived out your fantasy too, Sir?”

#tom cruise #tom cruise fic #tom cruise smut #tom cruise x reader #tom cruise imagines #tom cruise imagine #tom cruise dirty imagine #tom cruise dirty imagines #tom cruise x female reader

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piecksz · 4 years ago

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three’s a crowd | (m)

pairing: reiner x fem!reader x eren

warnings: nsfw, oral sex (female recieving), cuckolding, male masturbation, penetrative sex, voyeurism, slight degredation, slight angst, light mention of drugs, explicit language

summary: reiner’s attempt at hiding his attraction towards you fails, but lucky for him, eren’s feeling generous.

words: 4.6k

a/n: this was so much longer than i planned for.....well.....shit LMAOOO

a/n x2: I FORGOT TO ADD if you guys wanna listen to the song i looped like 47 fucking times while writing this, bc i feel like it fits reiner in this one shot kinda well, u can listen to recognize by partynextdoor (feat. drake) :p enjoy

Reiner hated Eren.

He hadn’t gone into living with someone he’d never met in person before with innumerable expectations, but he wasn’t banking on his roommate to be his polar opposite. He hated the sound of Eren’s riotous music into the early hours of dawn. He hated the unbearable malodor of his marijuana dependence, and he hated the way he carried himself with an intolerable air of arrogance, but as much as Eren’s living habits irritated him, it was the fact that Eren had you that presided over all of his grievances.

Being a witness to it made Reiner sick, knowing that you were leagues above Eren, and surely you deserved someone respectable, but somehow he’d charmed you into a long-term relationship, and Reiner wondered how he’d managed it. If by some miracle it had been up to him, Reiner speculated that he would be a viable match for you--that was if he had those sentiments for you--and he reassured himself he didn’t hold any promiscuous feelings towards his roommate’s girlfriend.

Yet it was hard for Reiner to rationalize the obscene thoughts that pervaded his mind at 2 AM. His clock displayed the time in bold red numbers, an indication that he should have been fast asleep, but you had decided to spend the night, and he already understood what that entailed.

The walls in their apartment were thin and did an insubstantial job of muting the noise that traveled between rooms. Reiner boasted the privilege of having his room right next to Eren’s, which meant he could hear everything that happened on the other side of the barrier. He heard every whimper, every groan, every time Eren praised you for taking him so well, and every time he admired how irresistible you looked while he fucked you from the back. The sound was so lucid he could count exactly how many rounds you guys had gone, and it was usually two, three if Eren hadn’t seen you in a while which was rare.

You two were hard to ignore, no matter how hard Reiner had tried, meaning he was also up late, listening while you two coupled. Your cries of stimulation, however, he didn’t mind as much. In truth, Reiner was always tempted to slip his hands into his pants and get himself off to the sound of your enticing whimpers, but he would discourage himself, deciding it was against his better judgement. Instead he would opt to cover his ears with his pillow, flipping over onto his side and dedicating his total effort to falling asleep.

Of course, Reiner had long established that he didn’t like you, but he swore he could make you feel better than Eren could.

It was around midday when Reiner returned to their apartment after committing his morning to helping his long-time friend, Pieck, pack up the furniture at her studio in preparation to move. They were halfway finished with stowing away Pieck’s belongings before she realized they didn’t have enough boxes and apologized, asking Reiner if he’d be willing to return the following day to help her load up her remaining things. He obliged, guiltily happy that he was being dismissed early.

Reiner kicked off his shoes and ambled into the kitchen to set down the food he secured on his way home, but he paused momentarily to scrutinize the condition of the living room, discerning Eren’s obvious trace.

The TV was on, but it sat idly, blinking images of some prime time movie Reiner couldn’t recognize, and Eren’s drug paraphernalia was left scattered on the coffee table, his bong alongside his stray lighter and grinder.

“Eren!” Reiner had prompted him on several occasions, reminding Eren that just because he thought electricity was a necessary utility and should be free, didn’t mean it was, they still had to pay for it. He also requested that he put his bong away after he was done smoking since it wasn’t permitted in their building, but Eren seemed heedless to that demand too. “Eren!”

Reiner anticipated a response, but huffed when he received only silence. Leave it to his roommate to blight his good mood in record time. He mumbled inaudibly, swiping the remote off the table to turn the TV off, and then reluctantly bending down to tidy the space of Eren’s things.

“Hi, Sunshine. You’re up and about early.”

Reiner straightened himself out and turned around, unaware that you’d been over. He missed your approaching footsteps. Had you stayed the night? He didn’t hear anything from Eren’s room the previous evening which was unusual to say the least. Maybe you’d stopped by earlier that morning while he’d been out.

“Hey,” he replied meekly. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were here.”

Reiner’s eyes looked you over swiftly, slightly startled at the lack of clothing covering your bottom half. You were only wearing a loose shirt that stopped dangerously at your hips and a pair of lace undergarments, but naturally, you didn’t seem the least bit phased. You’d practically lived with them. When you weren’t in class or at your part-time job, you were at their apartment, leading Reiner to wonder if you forgot you had a place of your own.

“It’s fine,” you smiled. “Sorry Eren left all of his shit out. I don’t know how I know the house rules and he doesn’t.”

Reiner snorted. “He knows them, he just doesn’t care.” His voice was casual although he walked hastily into the kitchen to avoid looking at you. He stored Eren’s bong in the vacant cupboard above the microwave before throwing his other tools into a miscellaneous drawer.

As if on cue, Eren wandered out of his room languidly, carelessly shrugging a jacket onto his unclad upper body. Reiner took that as a sign that his lunch would be best enjoyed in his room. He was already irked, and wasn’t in the headspace to deal with the current atmosphere.

“What’d you get?” you questioned, leaning over the counter with mirth. You paid little attention to the way Eren came up behind you, circling his arms around your waist and resting his chin in the curve of your shoulder. You looked more interested in the alluring smells wafting from the paper bag in Reiner’s hand.

Another thing he hated about Eren was his shameless PDA. It appeared he adored showing you off, letting everyone know that you were his, but God--how could anyone forget when it seemed he was incapable of keeping his hands off of you. Reiner himself recognized that you were a prize, from your lively eyes that were a marriage of subtle hues to the way your lips curled upwards when you grinned. He even noticed the curve of your breasts’ shape through your shirt. If Reiner had you, he’d want you all to himself.

He shook the thought out of his head.

“I just got something small on the way home.” He forced a smile. “If I’d known you were over I would have gotten you something too.”

“Why do you treat Y/N better than you treat me?” Eren asked, sounding only a little bit offended.

Reiner pretended to think before he responded. “Ah, maybe it’s because I don’t like you.”

You laughed at Reiner’s reply, and Eren only smiled, but Reiner detected something else behind his expression. Mischief.

“Do you like Y/N?”

Reiner creased his eyebrows together. “Of course.” He hadn’t read too much into the question. He did like you. You weren’t just easy on the eyes, but you were great company too. That was the only reason he didn’t mind lending their apartment to you as a second home, he enjoyed being around you.

You let out an exaggerated aww after he answered. “I like you too, Reiner.”

Reiner chuckled, shaking his head, but inside he was telling his heart to calm down. You didn’t mean it like that.

Eren hummed absentmindedly, swaying side to side slowly while you rocked along to his movement.

“Do you wanna fuck her?”

Reiner gripped the bag in his hand tightly, and his smile faltered in shock, reeling from the bombshell of Eren’s question. “What?” Did he hear him correctly?

You looked just as surprised, exclaiming your boyfriend’s name and craning your neck to look at him.

“I’m kidding,” he dismissed, but Reiner could tell he wasn’t from the way Eren’s eyes didn’t waver from him.

What Reiner didn’t know was that Eren had caught onto him. He’d known for a while, which was why he was particularly touchy with you around Reiner, showing you off, not caring whether you walked around their apartment scarcely dressed, it was because Eren enjoyed having something that someone else wanted. He saw the way his roommate acted around his girlfriend, reserved and quiet, more than he usually was, and he even noticed the way Reiner’s eyes dipped down to your chest in the moment because Eren was exceptional at paying attention to detail.

You must have detected how uncomfortable Reiner felt because you delivered a brief jab to Eren’s ribs with your elbow.

“Eren, that’s not fucking funny,” you chided. “Do I need to put you in time out?”

“It’s fine,” Reiner interrupted quickly. He didn’t want you defending him because you were oblivious. It only made the situation more embarrassing than it already was since, truthfully, the thought had crossed his mind more than once.

Eren reiterated his question, eyes narrowed at Reiner. “So do you?”

You sighed heavily and looked at Reiner apologetically. He could feel his face growing hot, and he prayed it wasn’t obvious he was as flushed as he felt. He just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.

Reiner released a humourless chuckle. “Grow up, Eren.” He slipped past the two of you, but he didn’t get far.

“I’m only asking because I’m feeling charitable. You wouldn’t mind, would you baby?”

Reiner could hear Eren pressing a series of ticklish kisses against your skin, causing you to laugh through your answer.

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind if Reiner doesn’t mind.”

Reiner brought his teeth down hard on the tip of his tongue. He was surprised that Eren was so secure in his relationship that he would willingly allow another man to have his way with his girlfriend. He wasn’t sure if his suggestion was insane or ingenious, because Eren had taken control of the one thing that threatened any relationship: infidelity, something so unvirtuous wouldn’t stop him from loving you. You and Eren were so committed to each other that a simple fuck meant nothing.

Reiner hesitated, but figured an opportunity like this was rare. He had both Eren’s permission and yours, yet he still didn’t believe his sincerity until you were in Eren’s room, starting to strip out of your clothes.

His chestnut eyes drifted over to Eren, slouched lazily in the chair he casually pulled out from his desk. “You’re gonna watch?”

Eren lifted a thick eyebrow, resting his thumb under his chin with an index finger against his cheek, looking unimpressed by Reiner’s obvious reservations. “You think I’d let you fuck my girlfriend without me here?”

Reiner slid a tense hand over the back of his neck, rubbing away the uncomfortable heat that creeped up his back and diffused to the tips of his ears. He figured that was reasonable considering the circumstances, after all, he was only fucking you because Eren had allowed it.

There was nothing more intoxicating to Reiner than your bare form, scanty pink lace clinging to your hips the only thing preventing you from being completely naked in front of him. His gaze dipped from your simpering smile down to your collarbones and then down to your breasts, perfectly sculpted to your figure.

Reiner made no efforts to move despite his insatiable urge to grab you in his arms and make certain that you were left satisfied. He feared he’d look too eager to Eren who was observing from the sidelines, but you paid little attention to your audience of one as you sauntered towards Reiner, closer and closer, until your arms slid around his neck and you pressed your chest to his torso.

Reiner’s body was strung so tightly, he was afraid he might snap. It seemed you took notice of the way his muscles tensed once your delicate fingers ghosted over the nape of his neck because your suggestive expression waned, and instead, your eyebrows creased with sincere concern.

“You okay?”

He couldn’t respond, but to be fair, it was because his heart was hammering against his chest and he wasn’t sure how to make it stop. He looked over at Eren again, who, fortunately, didn’t seem to pay much attention to him. Instead, your boyfriend’s stare was fixed on your backside, likely admiring how luscious you looked from his perspective.

“I’m over here.” You laughed and pressed a gentle finger to Reiner’s chin, redirecting his focus back to you. “Just relax.”

He swallowed, chuckling to soothe his unease. “I’m trying.”

Reiner wasn’t sure why he felt so unassertive in your presence. He didn’t hold a record like Eren did, but he also wasn't abstinent by any means. This, though, felt different. He was dealing with several months of pent-up sexual frustration that could only be satisfied by you and no one else. He knew because he’d tried.

Reiner drew in a ragged breath as you leaned into him, breathing heavily through his mouth until you closed the space in between you two, then he continued breathing heavily through his nose. At first, he made no efforts to close his eyes, afraid that the imagery in front of him was a mirage inspired by his own imagination and would disappear if he so much as blinked. His lips were timid, body taut under your touch, but you seduced his mouth, reining him in until he melted into the kiss.

He pushed back against you with fervor and desperation, outlining the shape of your bottom lip with his tongue before nipping at the soft flesh. You released a quiet whimper, intensifying the lust swelling in the pit of his stomach, and Reiner forced his tongue past your teeth, claiming your mouth while his wandering hands settled audaciously against your ass.

Your hands slid over his shoulders and crafted biceps until they tugged hastily against the hem of his shirt, and Reiner immediately understood your cue, withdrawing his mouth from yours to give himself just enough time to slip out of it. He dipped down again to deliver another kiss, but he was deterred by the feeling of your palm against his chest.

“What? Is something wrong?” he questioned quickly, eyes darting back and forth between your hand and your face, worried that he’d done something to overstep your boundaries.

Instead of the troubled expression he expected, you looked rather intrigued. Perhaps impressed was the better word. Your curiosity was held by Reiner’s physique, a living work of art. Eager fingers traveled down the built ripples of his abdomen, chuckling once you felt his muscles flex under your touch.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathed. “Nice, Braun.”

A snicker emitted from the corner. This, miraculously, Eren allowed.

Reiner's mouth quirked upward in a subtle smile before he surrounded you with his arm, pulling you in for another kiss. He walked you backwards until you collapsed onto the mattress, and he fell on top of you, strong forearms holding up his weight. It was then that Reiner realized he allowed his lust to win in the war against himself.

He pulled away to recover his breath, winded pants fanning over your face. His surveying eyes searched yours before they lowered to your swollen lips. God, you were even more mesmerizing up close, heavy-lidded and studying him through a curtain of eyelashes. Maybe for once Reiner would admit he was jealous of Eren. He was fucking envious, bitter, and spiteful that you were his. He’d been a goddamn idiot to let things go this far, agreeing to Eren’s offer, because he knew one fuck wouldn’t be enough to fufill his need for you. He’d barely gotten a taste, and he could already promise that nothing would ever compare to this.

He found your throat and pressed a fleeting kiss to your pulse, moving further down until his lips met your collarbone. He nipped at the delicate skin, taking notice of the way your grip in his hair tightened. His eyebrows arched while he peered up at you, delighting in the way your head rolled back and forth against the duvet. He really wanted to suck at your skin, leaving dark bruises that decorated the path from your earlobe down to your breastbone, but he knew Eren would kill him.

Reiner dipped lower until his lips brushed lightly against your beaded nipple. You made a small sound of protest, but held his head closer, letting him know what you really wanted. His heart beat erratically against his ribcage as he curved a large hand around your right breast and suppressed a groan, but you released a breathy whimper.

He could feel the sound wreaking havoc in his brain. His balls were so damn tight, it would take barely any effort for him to cum, but he wanted to prolong your coupling as long as possible. He didn’t know if he’d ever get another chance like this.

His thumb ran over the erect peaks of your breasts, captivated by the magic of watching your back arch and your body become aroused under his touch. He dipped a finger into his mouth, glazing it with his saliva before using it to flick back and forth at your nipple.

“Fuck, Reiner,” you mewled.

Reiner replaced his hand with his lips, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth. The tip of his tongue swirled around it, coating it generously with his spit, while you made no attempts to conceal your intense cries of pleasure.

Eren released an entertained sigh, swiveling back and forth in his chair. “She whines like a bitch, doesn’t she?”

Shit. Reiner had almost forgotten he was there, but he still released a hungry grunt in agreement, sending vibrations over your chest. He tugged at your nipple with his teeth, releasing it, and then soothing the sting with the flat side of his tongue.

He trailed down your abdomen, pressing hard wet kisses and stopping to leave a quick lick to your navel. He grinned against your skin when you gripped the sheets and breathed his name again, this time quieter, as if you meant it only for his ears. He liked to think so.

Once he reached the waistband of your panties, he licked along the fabric, immobilizing your rolling hips with strong hands.

“Enough with the theatrics, Reiner. Just do it already,” Eren groaned, sounding irate.

Reiner assumed Eren’s groan was only to stress his impatience, but once he looked over to him, he realized he wasn’t just giving directives from the sidelines. His bottom lip was tucked between his teeth, and his hand was moving steadily against the noticeable tent in his sweatpants.

He was enjoying this just as much as Reiner was, getting off to the sight of his girlfriend under another man, his roommate nonetheless.

Reiner suddenly felt strange. What the hell was he doing providing entertainment for Eren?

“Reiner,” your needy voice pulled him out of his reflection. His attention drifted back to you, watching while you propped yourself up on your elbows and slid your unsteady hands over your chest to tweak your own nipples, as if you were trying to hold yourself over.

He wished you hadn’t looked so tempting, even with your disheveled hair and sweaty skin, your vulnerable eyes fixated on him, and he was powerless.

Reiner hooked his fingers around your underwear, kissing a trail down the inside of your thighs as he pulled your panties down to your ankles before slipping them off and letting them pool on the floor.

“Spread wide baby, let him see that pretty pussy,” Eren stirred, cock now thrust out the top of his grey sweats and his swollen tip glistening with precum. His hand was wrapped firmly around his stiff length, moving slow while his breathing quickened.

For once, Reiner agreed with him, and he pressed his fingers into your thighs to aid you in parting your legs. Your pussy was slick with your own arousal, squelching as you tightened around nothing. You were even prettier than he’d imagined.

“Fuck,” Reiner breathed, extending two fingers to part your folds. Was he still sure he wasn’t dreaming?

He wrapped his built arms around your legs, pulled you closer, and lowered his head. He fixed his lips to your swollen clit, allowing his tongue to lap and circle around the tender bud every few seconds.

“Oh my god,” you cried, writhing against the sheets.

If he hadn’t secured your legs in his grip, he was certain you would have smothered him between your thighs out of reflex. He could detect the way you fought against his hold, but he far overpowered you in strength.

When he plunged his tongue inside you without notice, that was nearly enough to send you over the edge. You pulled on the sheets with a frenzied grip, producing a shrill cry your neighbors had certainly heard. There was no doubt about it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you murmured, chest expanding and falling with labored breaths.

Reiner wanted to spend a few more generous minutes tasting you, he couldn’t get enough, but he also wasn’t sure how much longer he would last. His cock was hot and hard in his pants, and he needed to feel you around him. Even if Eren wouldn’t let him cum inside of you, he needed to experience at least that much.

He rose to his feet, working quickly against his pants’ zipper while trying not to tease himself by looking at you. He was worried the mere sight of you on the bed, spread and ready for him would be enough to bring him to a climax, but he’d made the mistake of looking at you anyways, hand between your legs, delicate fingers rubbing at your clit while you stared up at him.

Fucking hell. Kill me. Reiner thought. Fuck. He felt the throbbing heat of his cock, and he wished you wouldn’t look at him like that. He really wished you wouldn’t look at him like that.

“Look at her, so desperate to be filled. It’s almost pathetic,” Eren laughed, but it was clear he was feeling your effect too. He lolled his head forward, long brown hair spilling over his shoulders and obscuring his face while his palm worked fast against his cock.

Shut up, Reiner thought. His head was growing hazy, and he couldn’t think. He needed to be inside you, and he couldn’t wait a second longer.

Reiner let himself free while his pants and underwear hung low around his knees. He couldn’t even find time to delight in the way your face melted into bliss once you laid eyes on his thick cock, leaking precum in sinful amounts because all he could think about was his ache. He leaned over you, positioning himself at your entrance.

He’d been waiting for this for so goddamn long.

Reiner exhaled when you said his name again, hips undulating against his cock and wet folds stroking his tip. He watched as he pushed himself into you, filling you to the hilt, and once he was inside he hung his head forward, eyes shut tightly in a painful sort of ecstasy.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Reiner grunted breathlessly.

He groaned, pinning your hips down with his once you attempted to fuck yourself onto his cock.

“Stop moving,” he pleaded. “Jesus christ--please don’t move.” He stayed still for a moment, waiting until his sensitivity subsided before he started rocking his hips against you slowly.

Reiner couldn’t dedicate his focus to anything other than the feeling of your slick walls clenching around his cock every time he pulled out, and the way he stretched you out every time he thrusted back in. He wondered if you could feel the depth of his desire.

“Harder,” you whispered once, and then begged louder. “Reiner please, fuck me harder.”

At first, Reiner was worried. He wanted to be gentle, he wanted to savor you, and he wanted to make sure he didn’t hurt you, but your request had him picking up the pace, ramming into you until the familiar slapping sound of sweaty skin filled the room.

You unraveled and became completely undone, letting out loud moans every time he drove his cock into you. Reiner thought the sound was incredibly euphonic as it fell upon his ears. You were like this because of him.

“How’s this?” His voice was husky and deep beside your ear.

Reiner was pleased by your lack of response. You could only nod, overwhelmed by the dual sensation brought on by him and the feeling of your quick fingers against your clit. You secured an arm around his neck again and wrapped your legs around his torso, clinging to him like he was all you needed. He wished that was how you really felt.

“Close…,” you murmured, and Reiner deduced you were warning him that you were near your orgasm. He could tell by the way your walls began to spasm.

Reiner felt the small of his back tighten, and he knew he was close too. He was torn between his release and holding himself back, not ready for this to end just yet, but his body betrayed him and he felt his cock twitch inside you.

Luckily, you reached your climax first, and Reiner watched in awe as your body seized underneath him, breasts bobbing with every jolt while you worked your clit into overstimulation. It wasn’t long after your orgasm that he made his last rueful thrusts. He quickly pulled out and clasped himself in the curve of his hand. He pumped his length until he released in quick spurts onto your stomach, covering you in his hot seed, and he kept pumping until he made sure he emptied himself of every drop.

His eyes quickly darted over to Eren, not to be odd or anything, but again, he had forgotten he was there. It seemed Eren had already satisfied himself. The creamy, white liquid decorating the bare skin of his abdomen and dribbling down his loose fist was evidence of that. Now that he had appeased his urges, he seemed disinterested as he reached over his desk and plucked a few tissues to clean himself up.

Reiner collapsed beside you, listening to the loud thudding of his heart as it delivered a few ecstatic beats while he caught his breath and began to calm down. He stared at the pivoting fan blades, and then his eyes dropped down to you lying next to him, sweaty and fucked out.

You were laying there with him, and goddammit he wanted to reach his arms out and wrap them around you, pulling you close so he could hold you and feel your heartbeat against his chest. He’d press kisses to your salty forehead, and then tell you how much he loved you. He wanted to stay like this.

Reiner's ideal vision dissolved once Eren stopped at the edge of the bed and extended his hand for you to grab.

“You wanna join me for a shower, baby?” Eren asked.

Of course, you took it, allowing him to support you until you were sitting up.

You released an exhausted laugh. “Yes, please.” You then turned to Reiner and arched your eyebrow in surprise. “By the way, not bad, Braun.”

Reiner gave you a small smile in return, but said nothing as he watched you cover your breasts with your arm and let Eren hoist you off the bed. You two slid past him and headed out of the room, but not without Eren looking back over his shoulder, shooting Reiner a shit-eating grin, as though reminding him who you’d always belong to.

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songwriteoc · 4 years ago

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The Sims 4 Challenge - The Pack(age) Challenge - 10 Gen Version

Ever wanted to explore other aspects of the game, but never had the will to do so? Well with this challenge… you can!

You can use whatever mod you want – it is a fun challenge that you can add your own twists to if you follow the guidelines given!

Recommended Settings:

- Normal or Long (does not matter)

- MCCC (for certain generations if needed, but you do not really need it)

- Do NOT use the More Trait Slot Mod. I will update to add more traits once complete.

You do NOT need to stay with one pack for Create-a-Sim. I understand some of these may require other packs to fit the aesthetic :P

The generations will span over 10, however you can stop at ANY generation if you want to stop.

You can also skip a generation if:

1. You really dislike the Expansion/Game Pack

2. If you do not have the Expansion/Game Pack

Generation 1 – The Comedic Genius (Base Game)

You have always dreamed of becoming a comedian. Ever since that one knock, knock joke as a toddler. Your first sentence was even knock, knock! Your dream is become the best comedian in Willow Creek, Newcrest and/or Oasis Springs! You also wanted to create the best comedy household, wanting a large family full of kids to explore all the arts of comedy! Although you were not always down for marriage, you still wanted to act like a happy family even through the comedy home life.

Being raised in an orphanage and finally finding a home once you aged up into a young adult is where your story starts.

- Traits: Childish, Family-Orientated & Cheerful

- Aspiration: Joke Star

- Create Young Adult (YA) Sim of Any Gender!

- Reach Lvl.10 of Entertainer Career (Comedian Branch)

- Max. Comedy Skill

- Max. Mischief Skill

- Have a boyfriend/girlfriend, NEVER MARRY!

- Have 3 to 4 Children.

Generation 2 – A Serious Detective (Expansion Pack: Get to Work)

You hated the way your family made you do clown behaviour, forced to make jokes that did not even impress you, but made you mad! On a day like no other during high school, you helped a classmate get their money back from their bully, making you best friends till the end of time, with possibly more feelings later? (This is your choice). To get out of your home, you spent majority of your life of high school going to the gym on the weekends to get away from the chaotic life of a comedy home.

You never understood why your family gave you siblings, making you feel overwhelmed with the number of kids your parents naturally had, making you feel bad for the children put up for adoption and left alone with no parents.

- Traits: Hot-Headed, Ambitious & Athletic

- Aspiration: Professional Athlete

- Generation starts as Young Adult (YA)

- Reach Lvl.10 in Detective Career.

- Have One Best Friend Forever

- Max. Logic Skill

- Max. Athletic Skill

- Adopt One Child

Optional:

- Somehow with science, become abducted by an alien. (if it leads to a alien pregnancy, that is fine!)

Generation 3 – Cooking is the Heart (Game Pack: Dine Out)

As a child, you always enjoyed watching your parent cook you fabulous meals – making them as perfect as you could imagine. Even for your own birthday, you always asked for cookbooks to read upon them so you could learn the recipes to start your own restaurant and teach your children to cook and hopefully take over the restaurant empire you want to build for your family!

Due to how your parent raised you, you were always keen on marrying before woohoo, which is exactly what you will do!

As a Young Adult (YA) this is when your story starts.

- Traits: Foodie, Perfectionist & Creative

- Aspiration: Successful Lineage

- Generation Starts as Young Adult (YA)

- Gain 5 Stars in your Restaurant!

- Max. Cooking Skill

- No Woohoo before Marriage!

- Marry before you reach Adulthood!

- Have 2 Children! (If triplets, that is fine too!)

Optional:

- Max. Baking Skill (Requires Get to Work)

- Read Every Week (As if you are reading a cookbook every week)

Generation 4 – The Unflirty Critic (Expansion Pack: City Living)

You have seen people fall in love, hated that your parent spent more times cooking in the restaurant with your sibling than taking care of you. They may of gave you attention, but what was it for? So, you could critic the food they make? You seemed to also help your parent cook amazing foods with your own critical thinking. Was this a career path for you? Seems so!

In school, nobody wanted to be friends with you due to how brutal honest you were with their gifts and how they acted. Everybody hated you, and the only friend you had was your own sibling who stayed beside you, telling you to do what you can with the goals you want in life, making you flee to the city of San Mychuno! Yours was to be a food critic. With no friends, you never learned to love, apart from that one hook-up one night at a high school party your sibling brought you to after you graduated. You despised love. You despised the very thought of it. You were the Agnes Crumplebottom of love, whacking people with your clipboard of critic responses.

- Traits: Unflirty, Vegetarian & Loner

- Aspiration: City Native

- Starts as a Teenager (Teen)

- Lvl. 10 of Critic Career (Food Critic Branch)

- Max. Charisma Skill

- Never Marry!

- Become Pregnant at a Party As soon As You Age Up!

- Never Talk to Child till they are a Teenager.

Optional:

- You may use MCCC to get your sim pregnant as a Teenager instead of as soon as they age up! (Still at a party!)

Generation 5 – It is Nothing Like Twilight, I Swear! (Game Pack: Vampires)

Your parent always shoved you away. You always loved studying upon the supernatural and embraced the feeling once as a teenager, you befriended a vampire, only to have a teenager brain and ask to of been turned. Your now stuck as a vampire and need a way to find a cure for your offspring you want to produce.

You do not want your future child to live through the same fate as you, as you turn other sims into vampires like yourself, before falling in love with another vampire, making it a love for eternity. However, you always adored your grandparents cooking, its as if they gave you heaven for food.

Your sims story starts as a teenager!

- Starts as a Teenager (Teen)

- Traits: Kleptomaniac, Bro & Jealous

- Aspiration: Good Vampire

- Purchase Almost Every Vampire Perk!

- Be Turned as a Teenager (or early Young Adult)

- Have 1 – 3 Children!

- Find a Cure for Vampirism Before child(ren) reaches Teen stage(s)

- Marry Your Vampire Love

- Have HORRIBLE relationship with parent, but GREAT relationship with grandparent.

Optional:

- You can rebuild your relationship with your parent before they die, if your Sim wants to anyway!

Generation 6 – I will adopt one, no two… No, all six! (Game Pack: Parenthood)

Your grateful for what your parent did for you, creating a cure for the vampirism you were born with. Although, you feel as if you need to prove to your parent that you can be the best parent in the world! Unfortunately, you were born unable to have children yourself (can be edited in CAS, or through mods).

You make it your mission to adopt as many kids as you want and making sure to spoil them with your video game greatness and parenting skills! Making them feel loved and adored!

- Traits: Family-Oriented, Good & Geek

- Aspiration: Super Parent

- You Start Once they reach Young Adult (YA)

- Max. Parenting Skill

- Max. Video Gaming Skill

- Adopt 6 Toddlers Between Your Young Adult and Adult stage!

- Never Get a Job! (Paint, Write… etc. for money!)

Optional:

- You can marry if you want. Requirements: MUST share ONE trait your SIM has!

- Adopt to Max. Household Limit Between your Young Adult and Adult Stage!

Recommended:

- Youngest Child is Next Gen!

Generation 7 – Time to Meow to this Howling! (Expansion Pack: Cats & Dogs)

You were raised with a lot of adoptive siblings, making you feel tired of being surrounded by older siblings that rushed around you taking care of your parent(s). The only love you felt, was from that one cat you found on the streets on that one visit to Brindleton Bay.

Once you became a Young Adult, you moved to Brindleton Bay and decided to start your passion for having your own Veterinary and surrounding yourself with stray animals you found on the street or adopting cats & dogs from the computer and/or phone! Maybe also falling in love with your own co-worker you hired?

- Traits: Cat Lover, Dog Lover & Loves the Outdoors

- Aspiration: Friend of the Animals

- Max. Animal Training Skill

- Max. Veterinary Skill

- Own a 5 Star Veterinary

- Adopt any Number of Cats & Dogs! (e.g., 3 cats, 3 dogs… 2 cats, 3 dogs… etc.)

- Marry a veterinary co-worker!

- Have child(ren) with co-worker! (Does not matter on how many)

Generation 8 – Spring All Year! (Expansion Pack: Seasons)

With your family adoring animals, you adored them too! But there is something you always asked for winterfest and your birthday, and that was your own private greenhouse to grow your own flowers to build your own store to grow flowers and sell them!

Your own way of doing so, was getting yourself a job as a gardener, and helping to design flowers for your friends, family and customers that wanted their own flowers done as a hobby while you worked, which lead to your own romantic destiny… but was it a fling, or did you unknowingly become the serial romantic and had/got someone else’s child that wasn’t your lover’s?

- Traits: Loves the Outdoors, Non-Committal & Romantic

- Aspiration: Freelance Botanist

- Reach Lvl.10 of Gardener Career (Floral Designer Branch)

- Max. Gardening Skill

- Max. Flower Arranging Skill

- Marry Your Highschool Sweetheart

- Have One Child with Another Sim that ISN’T Your Lover!

- Get Divorced from your Highschool Sweetheart!

- Have One Child with your Highschool Sweetheart!

Optional:

- As a Teenager before gen starts, you can start with the Serial Romantic Aspiration!

Generation 9 – “You love me! You really, really love me!” (Expansion Pack: Get Famous)

You loved the silver-screen as a toddler, looking at the beautiful actors/actresses performing on-screen and knowing instantly that is what YOU wanted to do.

Always laughed at for loving the arts in the countryside, you moved out of Brindleton Bay with your family so you could start your dreams of slowly becoming the best actor/actress the sims world has ever seen and seeing them raise their children to be just as famous as them in Del Sol Valley! The generation starts once you are a teenager!

- Traits: Creative, Self-Absorbed & Snob

- Aspiration: World-Famous Celebrity

- Reach Lvl.5 of Acting Club (Teen)

- Reach Lvl.10 of Acting Career

- Reach 5 Stars as a Celebrity!

- Max. Acting Skill

- Max. Charisma Skill

- Befriend a 5 Star Celebrity

- Marry a Celebrity Same, or Higher Star Level

- Get Money Worth of: $300,000

- Have Three Children with Lover.

Optional:

- Max. Singing Skill (City Living Required)

Generation 10 – Mother Nature is That You?! (Game Pack: Strangerville)

A sudden village has recently come back into the news after centuries of being forgotten and put through protection. You were invested in wanting to figure out what was going on while balancing your own military career.

Before then being sent to Strangerville to see what was going on in the village itself! You got told you could bring one person with you for security, and safety. However, once your friend eats a forbidden fruit found in a plant – things suddenly go south, making you know what you had to do, but all this chaos has made you more paranoid and scared for what could happen if you fail.

- Starts as a Young Adult (YA)

- Traits: Athletic, Paranoid & Clumsy

- Aspiration: Strangerville Mystery

- Reach Lvl.10 Military Career (Officer Branch)

- Max. Fitness Skill

- Max. Charisma Skill

- Have One Child once The Mother is defeated (if twins or triplets, that is fine too!)

- Live with your Best Friend in Strangerville

- Find love once The Mother is defeated!

Optional:

- You can bring a co-worker to live with you in Strangerville if you don’t have a best friend!

Part Two: Not Released Yet

Other Information:

There is a 2nd Part of this challenge going to be available once it is complete, in case you want to continue the generation for another 5 or so generations! Depending on the packs that are released that have careers, or something interesting to add.

Have suggestions for other packs that were realised before Strangerville? Say and I’ll put them into the part 2 of this challenge!

P.S. This is the first challenge, and it is in trial run. So there maybe some problems. If there is, please message me through here, or through my other social media:

Twitter: /@SongWriteOC https://twitter.com/SongWriteOC

If you do the challenge, please use the hashtag #SimsThePackChallenge on all social media, such as Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr... etc. Even YouTube! <3

#the sims 4 challenge #the sims 4 #SimsThePackChallenge

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delicrieux · 4 years ago

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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 "𝚘𝚑"

PART 8: CAT BOYS

... it’s late into the night and y/n is streaming with one of her new friends, sykkuno. running on caffeine and redbull is apparently not enough because she falls asleep on his shoulder 45 minutes into their cyberpunk gameplay. at that exact moment, twitter goes up in flames.

─── corpse husband x reader, sykkuno x reader (because i was threatened by thirsty anons) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 1.8k author’s note: here it is...what yall been asking for. literally had to add a new part for this but i loved this idea sm i couldnt just nOT NOT do it. i tried writing this with the same energy as the smau lmao so expect chaos as always. hope you enjoy it and as always lmk what u think! hopefully yall wont go too feral, but tbh thats prolly too much to ask for xx EDIT: srr for the fucky format tumbler dot com is being lame

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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Such a back and forth continues for the better part of the day as you get ready. Corpse only whines a bit when you forget to text him back - you are packing, and your prestigious cat ears you bought from Amazon for 10$ deserve exquisite care - which only fuels your seemingly bottomless hunger for mischief, leading to you sneakily ignoring him more. When your phone lights up with a message, you giggle, giddy with excitement. Your laughter only gets louder and more erratic, to the point where Rae had busted down your door and threw her Hello Kitty plush at you - one you’d gotten her, mind you! - and told you to just “Shut the fuck up!”

Ungrateful. You know not everyone can appreciate your sense of humor, or stand your hyena like cackle, but that was uncalled for and you told her as much. Noting the mess your room is in (more than usual, that’s for certain), she leans onto the door frame, crossing her arms over her chest, pretty brown eyes twinkling curiously, “Where you off to?”

“So I had this idea-” You start, but are promptly shut down with a raise of her palm.

“Already know it’s a bad one.”

Insulted, and hurt, you clutch your heart. As if she had not mocked you enough today, “Rae...The hell, that’s so mean...” You mutter, face scrunching into a soft frown, “I only wanted to tell you what me and Syk thought of.”

“Oh?” Intrigued, she raises a brow, “Continue.”

“Gee, thanks for letting me this time.” You mumble, rolling your eyes, “So. We thought we’d stream together. The catch? In the same room! We’ll be playing Cyberpunk. Gotta cash in while the hype is still up.” You add, making her snort, “And, ya know, the whole cat boy business...We’ll be wearing matching cat ears. Admit it, I’m a genius.”

She’s quiet for a moment, mulling over your words; you can practically see the gears in her head turning. She glances around the room, then briefly at you, strangely apprehensive. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

Well, that is definitely not what you expected her to say. You figured it’d be more along the lines of you’d be one ugly cat. “Huh?” Is all you manage to stutter, “What do you mean?”

She gives you a look, one all people give when something is so plainly obvious, “Y/n. You do know the stans will go wild, right? And you do remember our conversation involving Corp-”

“Nope!” You exclaim cheerily with a bright smile to match. You don’t want to think about that. The relationship between you and Corpse is strictly platonic, and besides, seeing Twitter loosing their shit is always funny, and you never miss an opportunity to mess with your fans. Sykkuno is also a good friend, albeit a new one. This supposed flirting from Corpse’s end Rae deduced was nothing more than her projecting her feelings onto the situation. She always liked shoujo anime and was probably thinking one was happening right in front of her. Not a chance. Corpse was just being a friendly crackhead. Your energies mesh beautifully.

Like, beautifully in a strictly friend way. Absolutely nothing more than that.

She gives up, naturally, arguing with a wall would be more productive than arguing with you. You’re such a (Zodiac sign).

“Well,” She mumbles, ticking her head to the side, leaning off of the door frame and turning to leave, “Don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

Your grin melts as soon as she leaves. Glancing at your bag, you shove your last necessities in with newfound hesitance.

Nothing bad will happen, right?

...Right?

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It is well past the generally set “appropriate” time to hang out, but since quarantine, what is appropriate anymore anyway? You’ve never been in Sykkuno’s apartment, but now that you’re here it’s...strangely him. Every corner seems tailored to his specific requirements. It’s cozy, and pleasantly warm - it’s a bit chilly in LA, as surprising as that is.

He’s even shyer than you remember him being. And a whole lot more awkward, but in an endearing way, a way that makes you want to laugh and try to reassure him that it’s just you and he has nothing to worry about. While you hung out only once, the history you share is rich and tender. From him following you on Twitter and subsequently prematurely ending your stream, to kidnapping a stray cat affectionately named Juan. His long lost brother, Juan (no the Second, just Juan), lives in your Minecraft server.

His stream room is sadly bare. There’s an appalling lack of merch or fairy lights. Not even led-lights. It’s a good thing you brought your own. As you try to decided which color would be best - his signature lime green, reminiscent of his adorable Among Us astronaut, or, perhaps, mischievous violet? - he boots the game and tweets out a quick “streaming with y/n in ten mins! come one come all!”

“You should probably tell your fans, too.” He mumbles, looking somewhere above your shoulder. You settle with cherry blossom pink. Glancing at him, you shrug.

“Ah, do it for me, please?”

“Oh!” He hiccups, “Uhm, I wouldn’t want to pry and I don’t know your password and-”

“It doesn’t have a password.” You had removed it, knowing something like this would happen. Bless your foresight, you did not want him to know it was demonspiitinmymouth. Before he could protest further, you rush to the nearest mirror to put on your cat ears and make sure they aren’t crooked. You look absolutely adorable. The cat boys in your dms will go feral. Hell, you might just go feral looking at yourself! Sykkuno is not ready. No one is. This will be a stream to remember.

When you return (with flourish of course), he’s anxiously fidgeting by his computer, his own little cat ears, one’s he wore for the Halloween stream, peaking out from his silky brown hair. You have to suppress a squeal. When he catches you gaze he gives the kindest, sweetest little smile.

“They, uh--” He points at you, then decides it’s rude to point, bringing his hand back to his lap, then clutching his mouse, lastly releasing a sound stuck between a chuckle and a wheeze, “suit you, uhm, a lot!” He finishes with a resolute nod, quickly spinning in his chair and away from you.

This is the reaction you desired. All is going according to plan. Is this what God feels like? If not, then you pity her. She’s missing out.

Taking a seat next to him - he had been gracious enough to haul you a spare chair from the kitchen - you draw closer, and he, instinctively, shrinks away with another nervous chuckle.

“You have, uhm... I-I didn’t look!” He quickly chimes. You raise a brow, “Uhm, unopened messages? From Corpse? He texted you when I was tweeting! I didn’t mean to look, I’m sorry-”

Instantly, you recall the famous vine with the scandalous “daddy chill” line, though refrain from saying it aloud. You love havoc, but you’re not evil (Rae would ardently disagree with you, though). Instead, you just shrug, “’S fine, don’t worry. I’ll text him back later. Let’s start?”

He nods, but doesn’t look at you. Granted, you don’t think he glanced at you even once since you returned, “...Okay. Ready?”

“Ready!”

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You’re much too immersed into the game and Sykkuno’s twitch chat to even check what’s happening on Twitter, but your estimated guess is that everyone’s going crazy. The stream chat is unruly as well, but missing the signature Twitter spark. Most of the chaos is bravely lead by your fans. Sykkuno’s, much like the man himself, are too nice to scream so unabashedly.

Perhaps you excitement had been a bit too taxing, perhaps drinking 5 coffees and 2 energy drinks today and not enough water are to blame for the sudden drowsiness you’re feeling, but you can’t focus on the swimming chat or the abundance of cut-scenes at the starting point of the game. You steadily draw nearer and he, more composed in front of his audience, doesn’t react. About ten more minutes of hoovering by his shoulder and muttering soft commentary, and you feel yourself slipping.

The last coherent thought you have is a few choice words directed at caffeine itself for having the opposite effect of you at the worst time possible.

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You float in oblivion for perhaps ten minutes at best. Once you awake with a startle, you shower Sykkuno in shy apologies and he quickly reassures you that it’s fine and that he didn’t mind at all!

“Though,” He adds after a thoughtful pause, “not sure if it was very, uh, comfortable?”

His stream chat spams uwu and variations of similar kind. The stream continues for a few more hours before the both of you wish everyone a good night.

While you planned on wreaking absolute havoc, this sudden falling asleep was unexpected. You pondered the consequences of such an innocent, unplanned act whilst ubering home, fearing to check your phone which by now was blowing up with not only Twitter notifications but also Rae’s angry messages that vaguely read “what the fuck y/n”. Within the past two hours she had left 57 messages on all platforms collectively, including 7 calls.

Corpse’s last text was over three hours ago.

Now that’s strange. Worry festers quickly. Briefly glancing at your surroundings - the pretty glimmer of passing street lights, neon signs, familiar buildings - you decide that it’s time to check what kind of nuclear explosion you’ve caused.

Your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach as you scroll past the hundreds of tweets and mentions. Scan through Rae’s messages.

You had failed to prepare ahead. Every explosion of such kind is followed by nuclear winter. And Corpse’s lack of messages feels especially cold.

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Not you smiling like a fucking idiot reading his last message! You shrink into the backseat, afraid the driver will accidentally look into the rear-view mirror and see you a bit too happy before asking questions. Good news? Yeah, but it’s not like it’s his any beeswax! In the words of Rihanna, just shut up and drive.

This argument had not yet happened, but you’re preparing, just in case.

As you think up of potential scenarios, your eyes drill into Corpse’s goodnight text. You’ve looked at it enough. Time to turn the phone screen off. Leave the app, at the very least. When the screen dims you instantly press on it to wake it up. This is embarrassing. Maybe the deadly amount of caffeine really did mess you up, big time. Your heart races in your chest, painfully almost. You feel a bit sick. Worst of all, you can’t stop smiling.

A notification from Rae makes you snap out of it. Ah, one more demon to deal with.

However, before you talk to her, you really need to tell Twitter that you’re not with Sykkuno. And apologize to Sykkuno as well.

At least Corpse doesn’t hate you.

Fucking hell, just exit the chat you idiot!

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tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

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hopefullystillatheatrestudent · 4 years ago

Note

i'm so excited about you taking asks again ahhhh okay so. if you'd absolutely had to choose. what would be your top 5 cockles moments, and why? thank you ily <3

here’s the thing: there are so many routes i could go down with this, because cockles moments come in all shapes and sizes and formats. these include moments from their panels, their bloopers, the footage we get when they don’t even know they’re being recorded, stories being passed down from photo ops & autographs(one of my personal favorite ways to get cockles, tbh, because they’re all insane), and social media(tweets to each other, instagram posts & comments, etc.).

SO! since many a list like this has already been made, and i want to stand out from the crowd, what i’m gonna do is definitively give the number one spot to each of these five categories.(i might even throw in honourable mentions because they’re so despicably in love that they warrant that. i really put my whole pussy into this, guys, i hope you’re happy.)

disclaimer: these are my own personal opinions. but that also means i’m right. so. enjoy.

number one: top cockles panel moment

so we’re starting off with a bang, because how do you even BEGIN to rank what atrocities jensen and misha commit at jibcon. every single one they’ve had is damning in it’s own right, for different reasons.

however, considering just how much unabashed fuckery they’ve given us to sift through, it’s a good thing i do have a personal favorite despite it all. it’s heartwarming, the sweetest thing i’ve ever seen, AND it’s jarringly cinematic - mainly because it has a whole ass arc to it that was years in the making. it might even be surprising to some people, but my favorite cockles panel moment, and what i consider the one that encompasses their entire gut-wrenching journey from 2008-2013 in the most sweepingly romantic gesture possible, is this one.

i want this burned into my retinas. i am not even joking. when i'm through with my explanation, let me convince you why this is thee most romantic cockles moment of all time.

first, some history: people call this the resume off, but many seem to forget the botched attempt at a resume off a year prior. and yes, you guessed it: it's during their break up. it's a juicy time period for a reason, guys. it came across as exceedingly one-sided and VERY awkward. let me refresh your memory as to just how bad it was, and just how hard jensen was trying and ultimately failing at winning misha over: the funniest part of the whole resume off in 2013??? every joke/bit had literally already been made/done. they were just going through the motions again, but the difference THIS time...is that misha reciprocated jensen's energy. it. is. fascinating. i want to get into it more detail in another post, and i'll link it here when i'm done, but the main takeaway, i think, and the main difference that showcases how much they've grown in a year, is that in jib 3, misha flat out refused to do an accent, and this time around, he indulges jensen for literal minutes. when i tell you they're crazy, they're crazy. i can't wait to actually dive into it later.

ANYWAY, the resume off culminates in this moment here. and, like, a million things happen in this gifset. actually, more like a million and one. the music starts playingneediremindyouthatthesongissingingintherain(h e l p), misha starts dancing, jensen 'perpetually fake grumpy' ackles lets misha think he's not going to join, misha sits down defeated, but no!!! that was jensen's plan all along(look at his stupid fucking smirk) and he offers his arm to his dance partner who immediately grins like a fool, jensen then leads misha into their kick step, they perfectly synchronise and let loose, and are then very clearly having the time of their lives, hanging off of each other with joy and ease. from their expressions alone i can tell that this moment is so. so. so. so! much more than what initially meets the eye. i mean-misha is fighting back the biggest smile i've ever seen. to me, it reads like jensen is offering something to misha, something that misha kind of gave up on expecting, and him offering his arm like that is like, a surprise to him in the best possible way(and it's so not platonic, let me just say that.) as soon as jensen did that, it ushered in a new era of cockles. this panel is jensen and misha's favourite for a reason, and i think this moment is the biggest clue as to why.

whew!!! ok. that took a lot out of me and that was only point one. moving on,

number two: top cockles blooper moment

cockles bloopers hold an extremely special place in my heart, because it shows just how fucking disastrous jensen and misha are. they are so goddamn infatuated with each other that they HOLD UP PRODUCTION ALL THE TIME TO FLIRT WITH EACH OTHER(???). let me repeat. let it sink in. jensen ackles; arguably one of the most professional actors on that show who puts everything he has into each scene, with mountains and mountains of notes to prove it: would rather hold up production to flirt with misha collins. this sounds fake. it's not. he does it. all. the. time. and here's the thing guys!!! i'm gonna let you in on a secret!!! misha loves it. he loveesssss it. on top of that-misha collins: overlooked because he's pranked and people assume he's unprofessional as well, but his only pranks are in retaliation/off-set, and he rarely if EVER causes problems if he can help it....lets himself get carried away when it comes to jensen making kissy faces at him!!! are you actually kidding me!!! i mean. misha. it's just a face. you've seen it a million times. i don't buy that it triggers something in you that strongly....you like it, and you like jensen's reaction. you can't fool me!!! lisa berry's face in that one gifset shows just how fed up the crew is with their gross, coupley boyfriend antics.

i could pull up so many examples. sooooooo many. but my favourite was sealed since the moment i saw it.

i actually already wrote an analysis on it but i can't find it :(((( which SUCKS because i really unpacked the whole thing. i'll try to summarise.

basically, a backstory is part of this too!!! jensen and misha both had a really really hard time with this scene(because it's explicitly romantic there i said it), they sat down for hours and poured over their scripts together, they were super super nervous going into filming, both of them, jensen especially, were super hard on themselves for their performances not being true to their characters but they both complimented the other's work(boyfriend moments fr). so, yeah. they weren't confident going into shooting. and how do they get themselves to feel better???? by cuddling each other, apparently.

a lot. a LOT. happens in this specific blooper. to the point that i saw it years before i knew about cockles and it raised all sorts of flags for me.

1) stop pulling my face towards your crotch(as a thinly veiled request that misha would, in fact, move jensen's face towards his crotch, considering it was jensen moving himself there in the first place. also, why so comfy down there guys???) 2) you're my baby daddy i know(in the most intimate voice i've ever heard please) 3) i know, i know, i love you too i didn't say i love you i know but you wanted to say it etc. misha's right, of course. that's what jensen meant.

it just reeks of comfort, familiarity and intimacy between the two, and it's a moment that is extremely sweet and silly at the same time. they're so <3

number three: top cockles found footage moment

WONDERFUL category. truly the culmination of the cockles experience. many people have said that shipping cockles doesn't work because 'they're just onstage you dummies!! they're playing it up for the audience!!!' here's the thing, love. i could not disagree with you more. once you climb your way up the cockles ladder, you soon learn that they are, in fact, playing their dynamic DOWN, not up. they really are just Like That™, and they could not care less about the paying audience, if we're being honest, considering how much time they take to giggle with each other and refuse to let the audience in on the joke. and i love them for it <3

anyway, my point is that this category is for all you naysayers out there, all you 'jensen and misha's relationship is just for show and is real life queerbaiting'(?????lordhelp???) oh yeah? ok, explain this.

he. he. he calls jensen sweetheart. literally enough said. there's nothing to really add here, except, misha and jared then immediately engage in damage control. jared's method is distraction and misha's is retconning('get out of the car, dude') this was what got me to buy into the cockles dumpster for GOOD good. you don't call your buddy sweetheart accidentally and sound so completely earnest while doing it! especially not when that buddy is jensen ackles!!! you think he would let any of his friends call him that? do you?

one more thing; if it was a slip of the tongue, little mouth thing or whatever, you think jared wouldn't have jumped on it immediately??? i can hear it now. 'did you just call him SWEETHEART???' yeah. that's what i thought. you know why he didn't? because it was too revealing.

number four: top cockles autograph moment

i mean, i think we all know what it's gonna be, and if you don't, well, do i have the piece de cockles resistance that is gonna send you over the edge.

if you haven't heard of this story by now, as a cockles, truther, i'm gonna go ahead and get you to read it, because there is no possible heterosexual explanation for any of it, and you're fooling yourself if you think otherwise.

spoiler alert: it's the story where phones weren't allowed in an auto session, jensen nuzzles himself in misha's hair, leans his full body weight onto him, holds his hand, etc. etc. i'm imploding just repeating this back, actually. also, just, the sheer amount of stories from photo ops where they tackle hug each other or slap each other's asses or sing romantic songs to each other or almost kiss is, frankly, a lot. if i could wish for anything, it would be to witness them in person.

and finally,

number five: top cockles social media moment

this one is super difficult, because there's obviously a lot to choose from. but you know what? full send, i'm going with this one:

i just. what to say about this. how often do misha and jensen watch sunsets together for it to qualify as ‘always’ ??? why are sunsets synonymous with their relationship??? that’s like??? a very romantic thing????? ‘this guy’??? the fact that it’s a CANDID??? i don’t know guys.

that could have been better but i am TIRED so. there you go rose ily

#cockles #cockles ask #liz answers #i really just. spend hours. writing about misha and his boyfriend.#why. why do i. do that #long post for ts

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writefightandflightclub · 4 years ago

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Somebody to love (PART 2/2): (Richard Alonso Muñoz x fem!reader)

Summary: PART ONE IS HERE. Whilst your neighbour, Richard, is in love with love, you are a little more commitment averse. When he performs a small act of kindness though, your feelings start to unravel, and you wonder if you may have found somebody to love - right next-door all along.

Richard is a sweet, gentle man, and so I hoped to create a sweet, gentle story. I hope you enjoy spending some time in it!

I HAVE POSTED THIS IN TWO PARTS, ONLY BECAUSE OF LENGTH. WHILST YOU COULD PROBABLY(?) READ EITHER PART AS A STANDLONE, THEY ARE MEANT TO WORK TOGETHER.

Genre / tropes: pining, friends to lovers (sort of - neighbours to lovers), getting together, domesticity, fluff, smut, nothing bad happens, ends happily, quite a slow burn for a one-shot, I guess?

Author’s note: This is part of my friends to lovers event, prompt requested by @foxilayde who I adore and you should too. Prompt was: he does something utterly mundane which shows how well he knows you, and your feelings hit you. I took some liberties with the prompt, and there is zero pressure to read this - IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A BLURB! :P More of these requests in pinned post!

Tags: (will add tomorrow)

Warnings/ Ratings:

PART ONE (Mature, 18+ ONLY): swearing; sexual themes (erotic poetry, thirsty internal monologue, sexual tension); food themes inc. mentions/ consumption; family mentions - reader has nieces but they need not be biological; brief mentions of the prison system - Richard is a Corrections Officer; exceedingly brief mention of the Holocaust in context of a non-fiction book Richard is reading (I believe this is a canon read but may be wrong); loneliness (theme, not too angsty); self-esteem issues if you squint.

PART TWO: (Explicit, 18+ ONLY): swearing; explicit sex, including - oral m + f receiving; unprotected vaginal sex; creampie; f squirting (first time doing so); well-endowed man, ahem.

Word count: 10k for part 1, 9k for part 2.

The date has been flawless. The best date you’ve had.

Richard is amazing to talk to and appealing to look at. He makes you feel safe and secure, yet also ignited and pleasantly destabilised. His laugh is music. His smile is sunshine. He is at times serious and in other moments delightfully playful. His gentle, quiet nature suckers you in to him, and once you are in the circumference of his warmth, you simply don’t want to leave.

You want to treat this special man to all the love he deserves.

You reflect, as you walk together towards your street, hand-in-hand, that it feels as though you’ve known him for years - and, of course, you have. You simply hadn’t been paying adequate attention. It is evident that Richard has, however. That he already knows you and understands you better than you could have imagined.

So, now, as you step up on to your porch, Richard stands a couple of steps below you, his cola-coloured eyes big and gentle and sparkling as he looks up at you. You loop your arms so that they rest on his shoulders, your fingers dipping into the glorious manicured curls at the nape of his neck. You had hoped that Richard might respond by winding his arms around your waist -or perhaps gripping your hips or your ass, to be quite honest- but instead, he stands there, taut with nerves, and yet his arms hung limply by his sides.

He seems so responsive; so receptive to every small touch you give him, the man humming lightly as you stroke his soft skin, and yet, he hasn’t returned the favour. You wish he would touch you, but, in resignation, you smile softly, guessing that if Richard won’t take the initiative, you will simply have to. After all, you’ve been desperate to kiss the man all evening. So, with a gentle smile and a search of his eyes, you shift one hand to cup his shapely chin, tipping his face up towards you.

“I want to kiss you, Richard. Is that okay with you?”

Keenly, he lets out a half-strangled affirmation, the weight of his plea creasing the space between his brows. “Please.”

And so, you pick up his unsure arms and you guide them around your waist, until his hands tentatively settle, polite but also firm and broad and warm around you, and you rehoop your arms around his neck, readying to move in for the kill.

Dipping your head down, you inch yourself closer and closer towards Richard’s lips, and you wonder if his heart is hammering the way yours is. You take in the beautiful sight of his eyes fanning closed and chin tilting up eagerly towards you, before your own eyes follow suit, your noses bumping awkwardly as you tilt around each other. The first sensation you feel is his moustache, the thick brush of it tickling your lips and causing you to faintly moan as you feel this small indication of his closeness. This breathy, broken sound from you causes Richard’s hands to tighten around your waist, finally, and with either a surge of bravery or a collapsing of his resolve -perhaps both- it is he who closes the remaining distance, his warm lips keenly meeting yours.

At first, it is a chaste, closed-lipped kiss that, even so, makes your legs tremble almost immediately. His soft lips are so moreish that when you break from him, leaning your forehead against Richard’s -both your chests heaving and your breaths practically one- you immediately sink back again to his lips, needing to taste him again.

You smile into the kiss as you become accustomed to the sensation of that glorious moustache, scraping lightly against your upper lip and cheek and nose, and you feel desire sink all the way through the pit of you like a stone as Richard’s tongue delves gently into your mouth. This surge of his kiss is like nothing you have felt before, and whilst Richard may seem timid, and while his ministrations may be gentle and slow, you could swear you have never felt a more assured tongue in your life.

“Do you want to come inside?” you ask urgently, your voice a broken, breathy thing, the air for your words ripped from his lips.

“Yes. Yes, I’d like to, very much,” Richard answers just as quickly, his eyes dancing with a delicious brewing heat as you take his hand and lead him into your home.

Your lips find him again as shoes and jackets are shrugged off, strewn haphazardly in the hallway, his kisses slow-moving and deliciously sweet, sending a cloying desire like warmed syrup sinking to the pit of you. Your stomach flips each time you feel his tongue against yours, as though your core intends to mirror the languid circling of his tongue, and suddenly you are already throbbing there, thinking of where these burgeoning kisses might be leading.

“You’re so beautiful,” Richard breathes, sinking on to your lips again, and your legs weakening beneath you.

You lead Richard deeper inside your home, and you vaguely consider your options, but with this hazy, hungry heat all around you, dragging him to your bedroom by the hand seems like the only viable course of action.

“Do you... want to come to my bed with me?” you ask, voice levelled with need and stomach buzzing with the pleasant thrum of nerves.

He answers affirmatively and you waste no time, until you are both seated on the edge of your bed, continuing your slow, sensual make-out session, bodies twisted towards each other. Richard kisses you deeply, opening your mouth up to him, until he breaks from you with a wracked groan, squirming with slight discomfort and apology as he adjusts himself, to better accommodate the growing bulge between his legs.

When he spreads his denim-clad thighs, like that, they look so sturdy and appealing that you want to climb him. Want to straddle his lap and writhe your heat right over his tenting arousal.

Still, you hesitate. He’s eager, you know that much; and God, so are you. However, he still seems nervous about reaching out to you or taking the lead. His hands never stray far from zones he may consider more polite or more comfortable, despite the fact he has happily allowed your hand to inch up and up his clothed thigh and towards that tenting crotch of his, his pretty, wracked moans spurring you on.

So, as he breaks from you, momentarily, you pull back to search his eyes.

“Would you… Would you like to touch me, Richard?” you suspire, wanting to progress this further, but only if he’s comfortable.

As you regard him, you note that you have never seen a man look quite so dishevelled with need - both literally and figuratively. Your hands have upset his perfectly fixed curls, mussed tendrils now draping over his forehead. His kiss-plumped lips are parted to accommodate his now ragged breaths, and he looks almost forlorn - pained with it, as though he might end if he isn’t kissing you again within moments. “Yes. Please.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere,” he responds, brow furrowed with weighty desire and eyes searching yours.

The tone with which he responds to you, sunken with need, has a hard swallow trailing down your throat. An immediate and impossible ache building between your legs.

“How about… here?”, you say tentatively, gingerly taking his hand, and moving it beneath the fabric of your dress until his warm fingers meet the bare flesh of your thighs. His thumb instantly sinks in to knead you as he works his hand up further, inching towards your core, exactly where you need him.

“God, you’re so soft. You feel so good.”

“C-can I touch you?” you ask, as he inches higher, and it comes out as a plea. You need to. Need to touch him. Everywhere. You need to feel him under your hand - feel him all over you. On you. Against you. Buried in you. Fuck, you need him.

With your question though, Richard’s hungry eyes are momentarily clouded by apprehension, and so, you take a moment to rein in your snowballing desire; to properly check-in with him.

“Let’s talk for a minute. Can I do anything to make you feel more comfortable?” your voice soft and soothing, your hand smoothing over his thigh.

Richard flutters his eyelashes and looks down at his lap, withdrawing his hand from under your dress. Your skin shivers, instantly cold with the loss of him. He nods, slowly, soberly, his face set and moustache downturned. Then, when his words come, his voice is small and sad. “I asked my buddy at work for advice. Said I had a date with someone out of my league. Somebody so perfect, and that I didn’t want to mess it up.”

Your eyebrows knit together. You shake your head in disbelief. Your one single desire now, is to set his misapprehension to rest. “Fuck that. I’m not out of your league, Richard. You’re gorgeous. You’re perfect.” You cup his cheek again, planting a kiss on that now familiar spot, right on the tip of his cheekbone, a spot perfectly contoured to your lips.

His eyes flick back up to yours, shining with gratitude, but he still looks unsure.

“Perfect,” you repeat, dipping to press a kiss to his opposite cheek. “Gorgeous.” To the tip of his nose. “Sexy.” To the corner of his lips. “Handsome.” To the column of his neck. Meanwhile, smoothing your hand over his thigh and arm and chest, keeping your desire stoked but mainly aiming to offer him comfort, and to bolster his wavering confidence.

A smile claims Richards eyes, at least, if not his lips, and he brings his hand to your face, caressing you gently in gratitude. You pull up to search his eyes and his expression says it all.

You are beautiful.

And, despite his nervousness, his timidness, when Richard next speaks, there is no hint of self-consciousness in his voice. Not an ounce, his kind eyes backlit with lust. With that now familiar, gentle, nuanced heat. “He said… Said that I should eat you out like a man starved.”

To your credit, you try to speak. You really do, your mouth opening and closing again wordlessly, but all of a sudden, you have lost language. You can barely breathe. Can barely form a coherent thought. Barely an incoherent one. Barely a -

“Would you like it? If I did that, bonita?”

You whimper. You actually whimper, as he sits there, coolly holding your face in his broad palm, caressing you with the pad of his thumb. Behaving as though he’s an innocent thing and yet making you feel like this.

“I would not be. Opposed to. That,” you muddle out, barely, your voice trembling with need. An insistent pulse between your legs, causing you to press them tightly up against one another, just for a morsel of relief. “But… you. Ohhh.” His thumb brushes over your cheek. Towards your mouth. “Y-you don’t have to. Um.” Skims your lower lip. “Ahhh. Do. Anything you. Uh. Don’t want. To.” The pad of his thumb pushes inside, just deep enough for the tip of your tongue to meet it as he grazes over you. “Uhhh.”

Richard nods in understanding, and when your tongue fleets out to taste the tip of him, his eyes darken deliciously, pupils lust-blown.

You, meanwhile, are vapour. Your breath is ragged. Your arousal is soaking through your dress. You can feel it. Feel your own slick, a mess on your thighs.

And yet, you can tell there is more he wants to say, so you encourage him to go on. “Richard?” you plead.

“I... I want it to be perfect for you. You’re so perfect. But I...” his moustache twitches as he sucks his own lips between his teeth. His hands drop dejectedly into his lap, and he can’t meet your eyes, fixing his gaze on a spot of carpet. “I want to. So much. I‘m aching for you.”

Then what? You search his beautiful big eyes, reaching up to gently tuck a cute, hanging strand of curls away from his eyes and urging him to go on.

He reaches behind his head, to self-consciously stroke the nape of his neck. “The last woman I was with... It wasn’t... She didn’t like the moustache. And she... she said I was... too big.”

Fuck.

Your hand drops from his face into your lap, and your jaw slackens in shock as you let his words sink in. Meanwhile, his face becomes tinged again with that undertone of crimson you’re becoming rather familiar with.

Too big?

“Fuck, Richard,” you breathe -or, rather, can barely breathe- as he looks up at you from beneath his lashes, nervously, humbly awaiting your reaction. He really has no idea what he’s doing to you, does he? How perfect he is? You can feel the heavy pulse of desire throbbing between your legs once more - even more so now. A slow-crawling heat under your skin.

Can he really be so... endowed?

Can he really be so shy and so hot at the same time? (Yes, apparently, he can.)

You gulp. You take in a breath to speak and then literally say nothing. You consider, so help you, burying your face in the mattress and silently screaming. But, somehow, you hold it together.

“That’s. Wow. Well, we can definitely figure that out. Together, Richard. Can work around… That,” you reassure, your blood rushing in your ears, your hand slowly trailing back up his thigh. “Will you… will you let me take care of you?”

Looking reassured, he nods. He smiles softly. His eyes ardent as he looks at you.

You reinstate your hand on to his sturdy thigh, and you begin your slow, languorous crawl up towards his crotch, following the seam of his pants like a trailing spark along a fuse line. As you inch further, his eyes flutter shut and he groans when you reach the junction of his legs, lightly ghosting your fingers along his straining zipper.

“Can I... see?” you purr. “Are you hard for me, sweet man? Can I take you out of your pants?”

“Yes,” he nods. “Yes. Please.”

You proceed when Richard eagerly shifts position for you, parting his thighs for you and leaning back on his hands so that you’re able to unbuckle his belt, and to slowly release his zipper.

You’re playing really well at having any shred of self-control left, for his sake, but in reality, you’re a trembling, wet mess, overtaken by a furious, barrelling need. You simply can’t take this. Shit, you wonder if you will actually, very literally, be able to take this. Take him. Still, you certainly don’t want to stop, and so, with Richard’s cooperation you tug his jeans and his boxers down on his hips, and, biting down on your lip, you release his proud length.

“Fuck,” you say, almost inaudibly as you drink the sight of him in.

He wasn’t exaggerating. He is big. He’s long, but perhaps not the longest you’ve ever had – a fact you are honestly thankful for. He certainly is thick too – especially thick, his contoured head ruddy and gleaming for you. Launched on an urgent breath, you ask if you can touch him, and when he encourages you, you wrap your fingers around his shaft, his length warm and heavy in your hand. He fills the circumference of you in such a pleasing way, hard and velvety and thickly veined. He eagerly strains against you; engorging even further against your touch.

“What do you think?” he asks shyly, intently watching your fingers tease and skim and squeeze him. “Can you work with this?”

“You’re perfect. Fuck, Richard. This is the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen.”

“You mean it?” he asks, modest as ever.

“Every inch of you is perfect, sweet man.” You want to prove it to him. And you know exactly how. “D-do you… Do you want to feel how wet you’ve made me? How much I want you, Richard?”

“Please,” he begs hoarsely, his voice quaking, desire knotting his brows, and, you stretch out on the bed beside his already half-reclined form, the mattress dipping beneath you. Eagerly, you return his hand to your thigh, where his girthy fingers resume their slow path towards your core. This time though, Richard doesn’t stop. Positioning himself, propped on one elbow, he turns on to his side, his other hand travelling under your dress - inching, achingly slow, all the way up your thigh. He traces a warm, steady, torturously slow pressure along your clothed slit, over your aching nub, until he reaches the top hem of your panties -silly, silky little things- and then, he pushes the elastic hem aside, dipping his two, thick middle fingers down into your folds, gliding effortlessly through your slick until he curls towards your entrance.

You shudder from his touch, submitting an open-mouthed moan to him already as he skims through your wetness, his half-bared cock twitching against his soft, rounded stomach in response to the feel of you. The sound of you.

He pulses and swirls his fingers up and down over your heat, simply gathering and playing with your arousal, and you can imagine what he is feeling beneath his fingers. You can hear your own wetness, your sweet nectar aiming to sucker him in.

It works.

“Please. Can I taste you?” he asks, in that wrecked voice again- the one which ends you.

Your eyes traverse him, hungrily. His mouth tipped open, needy breaths circling beneath that flourishing facial hair. His forearm exposed and veins popping as he works his fingers against you. His cock. Fuck. His delicious cock looks so hard and ruddy, the head of him practically crimson -fit to burst already- and the man must need some relief, and yet all he can think of is sinking his mouth to you? Not that you’re complaining, mind you.

What most gets you though – still – are his eyes. Those gentle, heat-infused, heavy-lidded, lust-laden, adoring, cola-coloured eyes.

Still, you throw your head back, as his fingertips continue to haphazardly explore your folds, your hips bucking and writhing readily, messily against his fingers. “You… ohhhh. You don’t have to do what your buddy said, you know? Only if you want.”

“I want to. I want to taste you, please. Hermosa. Please.”

Fuck, those beautiful brown eyes.

You never imagined you would end the evening with this handsome man begging to eat you out, and you don’t have it in you to resist, not even for a moment. Instead, you nod eagerly, scrambling to spread your thighs for him and hitching your dress up over your hips, opening for him with slick and eager hinges. Richard’s exposed member gleams for you, peeking out from his jeans, and each item of his clothing now looks like it is an impediment; however, he wastes no time on that. Instead, he simply begins a slow, deliberate peel of your panties down to your ankles, and, as you expel a string of affirmatives and pleas into the air, he sinks his face towards your heat.

You weren’t ready for it. You weren’t ready for the feel of his supple, eager tongue writhing against you, nor the feel of his lips engulfing you, his moustache scraping your sensitive skin ever so slightly as he munches over your clit. You weren’t wrong either - he is definitely, unequivocally not afraid to make a mess of himself. At all. In fact, you wonder if he has forgotten this is for you, as he truly does seem intent on tasting you, drinking from you as though he’s slurping on a milkshake, or relishing a cherry sucker. You think he might drink you dry. Or, you would think so, except you are getting wetter, as his assured, quietly confident tongue laps and probes and licks at everywhere it counts.

“Unnng. Dulce. Como duraznos en almíbar,” he praises into your heat.

Sweet. Like peaches in syrup.

You mewl for him. You writhe yourself desperately, embarrassingly, but this man moans eagerly into your heat as if he’s gaining as much pleasure from this as you are. That can’t possibly be true, however. It can’t be true because you are positively alight with ecstasy. You are experiencing such an abundance of it that you can scarce handle it, pleasure both balling and knotting tightly at your centre, and zipping out to every extremity. Your body bows and bucks under the weight of it and at the same time soars, weightless, to another plane.

When you think you couldn’t possibly take any more, Richard’s thumb begins a slow circle of your entrance, tracing around you. Dipping in to you. When his thumb slips in to fully puncture your heat, your juices spill over him, like you truly are a ruined peach, your fists clenching wildly in the sheets. You are his fruit. His ruined, ravaged fruit, existing and perishing only on his tongue. Coming to life and ending when he tastes you.

“Fuck, Richard!” you exclaim, as your peak threatens to overtake you so soon, and you worry that the sound was too weak for him to hear it; however, the man is apparently attentive as ever, even when he’s lost in between your thighs. He stops immediately, lifting his pretty eyes to yours, running his hands up and down along your quivering legs, trailing his fingers reverently over your mound and your patch of hair.

“You’re shaking, bonita,” he says, sounding awed.

“F-feels too good. But I want you inside me. I need you. Please. Will you – W-will you undress and lie down for me?”

It’s all you want. He is all you want. And you can’t explain why, but when you do fall apart for him, you need it to be together. Perhaps, so that when you unravel, you can bind yourself to him. You will tie those knots so tightly, you think, that they will not come undone.

In response to your request, Richard looks positively wrecked with need -and still a little nervous- but he obliges you, and your eyes keenly watch him as he slowly relinquishes his clothes. First his lower half, jeans kicked off to the floor. Then his shirt. He hesitates, when it comes to his white undervest. He looks so appealing in it that you wouldn’t mind if he kept it on; and yet, you are endlessly pleased when he peels it over his head, revealing his smooth chest and stomach and arms to you, your hungry eyes wandering over his form.

“Mmm. Gorgeous man,” you praise, rolling onto all fours with a surging, tidal wave of desire, trailing kisses and skimming your hot, wet mouth all the way down his bared torso as he kneels on the bed. He tastes faintly of sweat; salt on your tongue.

“Tell me what you want, Richard.”

“I… I need to feel your skin. Feel all of you,” he pleads hoarsely, and so, you follow his lead, tugging your dress over your head, and, with a ravenous, seductive stare, slowly releasing yourself from your bra. Richard’s jaw actually goes slack as he takes in the sight of all of you, entirely bared for him, the word “wow” gently suspiring from the pillow of his lips.

You smile as you guide him on to his back, and, tucking your body into his side, propped on one elbow, your hand smooths over his chest as you kiss him deeply. You taste yourself on him, a sweet, heady musk lingering on his moustache; and then, your hand traverses his chest and soft stomach, inching closer to where you crave. His body shivers under your hand as your fingertips stroke him at a spot where he’s evidently a little ticklish. He half-giggles, but the sound transforms quickly into a stuttered moan as your reach his arousal, a single finger circling the head of him.

Your fingers have barely so much as grazed him there and his cock is twitching, his hips bucking in search of your hand and his shapely chin tilted up towards the sky.

“Fuck. Are you sensitive there, baby?” you purr, and, as your fingers curl gently around him again, he nods vigorously – desperately- his expression almost tortured and his arms pinned by his sides.

“Yes, Ma’am. It feels so good when you touch me. Please. Please don’t stop.”

He shivers again -in a whole new way- as your thumb swirls, gingerly, spreading the glistening pearl of precum around the head of him.

You believe the man – that you make him feel good. He expels a breathy, gasping moan, or a tortured half-chuckle every time you so much as brush him. His might even be the most sensitive cock you’ve had, you think, and you watch, enraptured, as his pleasure plays out over his face, his hands fisting into the sheets at his sides as his body writhes for you. Still, you want more. You are greedy for him. Want to feel him everywhere.

“Can I take you in my mouth, Richard?”

“Do you want to?” he asks, and you nod, slinking cat-like down the bed, until you are in position, your mouth settling over his cock.

“You look delicious,” you purr, and when he pleads with you, you dip your head, your tongue laving out to encircle him in a wet, writhing embrace. He’s moreish here too, and so, you sink your lips down around his straining mass. He’s big, and he stretches your capabilities. You can’t even take all of him right away, but you give it your best effort as he moans beneath you.

“Unngg. No-one has ever fit so much,” he praises in disbelief as you take him deeper, humming around him, your head bobbing languorously over his shaft. Richard bucks his hips up ever so gently into your mouth - very careful not to drive into you further than you can take him. His hands come to rest tenderly on your head too, and his fingers smooth so delicately over your hair - reverently even. He doesn’t make any move to grab you to push you down on him- even if you might like that, or he might like that, at a later stage. Right now, you are more than content with this rare, unparalleled gentleness. This delicate, tender joy.

With relish, you continue. He makes such pretty sounds when you have him under your tongue, and yet, for how sensitive he is you are certainly impressed with his stamina. After a particularly deep bob down on to him, you surge off his length, using your hand to rub your slick into him as you look up at him, finding you have him transfixed.

“Need you inside of me, Richard. Can I get on top of you?”

This ache between your legs is becoming untenable.

“Unngg. Want to be inside of you so badly, bonita. Are you ready for me?”

Indicating your readiness, you shift yourself to straddle his hips, your core practically dripping over him as you settle your arousal over his. You writhe him along your folds, coating him in your juices, before rising up on your knees. You have to rise a little higher than you’re used to, to reach the tip of him, and eagerly you settle the blunt pressure of his ruddy, gleaming head at your entrance. You can barely steady yourself in position as your thighs and core tremble for him, in mere anticipation of him filling you. You are grateful when Richard’s hands come to lightly grip the meat of your hips -steadying you, supporting you a little- thumbs caressing your soft spots.

You tug in a breath as you prepare to spear yourself on him, the air faltering in your lungs as you pause where you are, just for a moment, Richard looking up adoringly from under you.

“Soñé contigo por tanto tiempo,” Richard whispers, barely audible. I have dreamed of you for so long. You’re not sure whether it is his sincere, heartfelt words igniting this pleasure within you or the slow inch and drag of your wet heat down his thick, veined shaft. Likely both, but either way, you know you want more.

“Uhhh. Slow. Slow, bonita,” he groans, as you begin to sink all the way down on him, his steady hands guiding you, now cupping your ass, staccato breaths escaping his parted lips as you engulf him. You take him, slowly, gradually, feeling him inch by inch as his girth and his length stretch you open. As you take him to his base, all the way, the full weight of you settling on his hips, Richard’s eyes practically roll back into his head. “God, it feels so good inside you. Can you take me like this?”

Your teeth clamp down on your bottom lip and you nod, stilling as you adjust to his size. He’s a lot, but it’s a pleasant kind of pressure as he strains against your walls and all your sweet spots. “Can you… take a little bit more, hermosa?” Fuck, how does he have even more to give?

“Say stop if it’s too much,” Richard pleads. “Promise?” When you nod, Richard slowly plants his hands on your hips and pulls you down on to him, just a little, as he bucks his hips up, ever so gently. You cry out, your face contorting in disbelief and your head arcing to the sky as Richard fills you to your limit. Meanwhile, Richard is studying your face with gentle concern, feeling it out, checking you are comfortable, letting you slowly reconfigure your insides to the shape of his girth and length. He’d never hurt you. He’d simply never.

And, even though he has filled you all the way up, it feels so good.

Richard stills under you, until you are ready. His fingers trail tenderly over your thighs and belly and breasts. Over the mound of you. Your legs are shaking, folded and clamped down around his hips, and you’re not sure that your weakened limbs have the strength to allow you to rise on his length. But damn it, you will give it a valiant try.

“I need to move,” you beg, even though you are in the position of control, and Richard looks up at you with big pretty eyes, and God, he’s buried in you that you can feel him all the way in your guts. You gasp, whimper, as, gingerly, you rise up, feeling the fullness and drag of him against your walls as you start working and undulating against him, feeling out all the angles which feel best and…

Fuck there are no bad angles.

As you melt, become molten, Richard is your stiffness and he gives form to your boneless, bodiless flesh. You are full, all the way up. You are so full and it could feel urgent and dirty, having his cock deep in you like this, but it… doesn’t. It feels… Fuck. It just feels…. right. You can only describe it as a caress, as he comes to be held safely and tightly inside you, and you begin to move slowly, wanting -somehow- to imbue each drag of him over your walls with the care and affection you feel for him. The adoration you feel so deeply; as deeply as he’s buried in you. Deeper.

“Richard,” you plead, and you hinge forward at the hips, until your chest sinks down to his, your lips on to his lips, and as you undulate on his body you cling to him. Bury your face and your tongue and your hopes and your dreams in him, as though, if you plant them deep enough you can take root and call him home. As if you are a fruit and you need his ground to grow.

In turn, he holds you, arms wrapped around you, fingers caressing your back, moustache scraping against your cheek, your lips, your neck as speaks honey into your skin, nourishing you with sweet, wholesome praises. And, when he’s content that you can take him, when you’ve shown him how you can, Richard starts moving too, working in tandem with you as your bodies roll and heave together.

You show him not only that you can, but how much you enjoy taking him. There are sounds of pulverised fruit, leaking over him, his cock pushing your juices out of you, as though there is no room inside you for anything else but him. And, as your tightness surrounds him, his arms surrounding you in turn, he bestows you with simple yet jewelled praises, calling you all the beautiful names under the sun in both of his tongues.

It’s sweet, and it’s slow, and you both embody tenderness, all caressing fingers and lips and sugary, grateful noises. Clutching hands and arms, drawing the other closer, deeper into this tangle. As he stokes you, you can barely stand these sensations. You can barely comprehend something so pure and so perfect.

He glides into you now, your slick everywhere, your sex increasingly loud and obscene as his beautiful cock is suckered into your wet, liquid heat. As you quicken your pace, Richard’s mouth settles over your shoulder, teeth lightly gripping your flesh as he stifles a moan into your skin. Then, his breaths are billowing gusts fanning over you, and you can guess that he is trying to bring his approaching release under control.

By this stage, you are overwhelmed, your legs spent and tremoring, and you can barely rise and sink on his length anymore for shaking. You have become weak for him, practically liquid from this slow, torturous build. You need Richard to be your stiffness and your joints. You need to be a fluid thing beneath him, or else, you think, you will perish.

“Lie down for me, bonita?” Richard whispers sweetly, so attuned to you, and, seeing, as you flounder with need, your full weight almost limp on top of him, that a change of position is in order.

He draws out of you with a shudder and rolls you, carefully, his own body following and chasing yours. Richard’s weight settles pleasantly on top of you this time, and, as you fumble into position you spread your legs for him, wrapping your thighs and arms tightly around him. You hold him close to you, your hands cradling his head, fumbling through his grizzled curls, now mussed wild tendrils falling around his face. Then, ever so gently, dipping to kiss you sweetly with that assured tongue, Richard re-sheaths himself, sliding easily inside you now with a divine caress of skin. He feels overwhelmingly good. He feels like heaven reaching inside you to kiss your soul and you pray out loud, your moans greeting his kiss.

The angle and the pressure like this is something else, the press of Richard’s soft stomach and hips and the driving of his cock pushing you pleasantly down into the mattress, your body given a little bounce from the springs which helps you set a perfect rhythm together. You are moments away from unravelling, already, as Richard pistons in and out of you, over and over, a glorious pressure building as you are wrapped up safely in the warmth and scent and sound of your sweet, perfect man. You are lost in the feel of him, both of you clammy and breathy and sheening with sweat as you writhe and combine; and fuck, you want to unravel. You need to.

You want to unravel so you can bind yourself to him with more than this ephemeral tangle of limbs. You want to get lost in him, in a way that makes you feel found.

“I’m going to lose it for you, Richard. It feels too good. I... can’t take it. I… It’s too much. I’m… Harder. Deeper. Please.”

Richard is spurred on by your praises, his pace becoming quickened, his thrusts slightly harder. He sinks into you with vigour, though not with any need to dominate or take from you, you think. Simply as an expression of the overwhelming need to be closer. Deeper. More held by you. To hold you in return. It’s not close enough, even as you hold him tightly in your arms. You are so greedy for him that you don’t think you could ever get enough, even as it’s all too much.

You moan. You moan like a sob. Like a plea. Like a prayer. And he shushes you. Soothes you. He shushes you while he’s buried so deep in you -burying himself so deep in you- that you are fucked wide open. There’s something so pure and yet so wicked about the contradiction of his gentleness and this huge, undeniable force in your centre. You feel that he has crawled so deep up in you that he can never leave; and you want it that way.

“Can you take a little more, hermosa?

Fuck. No. Can you? But, yes. Please, yes. God yes.

“Yes. Please, Richard. Give me everything. I want all of you inside me. Need you.”

He thrusts his hips forward. He’s been holding out on you.

“Ohhhh, just like that,” you plead, voice ragged and your moans escalating, both your bodies slick with sweat now as you tangle together. “Right there. Don’t stop. Don’t stop, Richard! I need. Unnggg. Fuck. Need you deep inside me, just like that. Please don’t stop. Don’t stop!” You plead desperately with him -as if you even need to bargain- your teeth clamping down on your bottom lip and your hands reaching for him, tugging him closer to you as he drives his length into you over and over, pressing you harder into the mattress as you sucker him into your tightness.

His lips sink to the column of your neck, that moustache grazing you there, his own rich sounds of pleasure reverberating against your skin, his voice humming so close it sinks into your bones.

“N-never want to stop,” he gushes hoarsely into your skin. “Always want to be inside you- feel you wrapped around me, preciosa.”

His words are sincere. Earnest. And, with his words, and the repeated drag of his perfect cock, and his warmth enveloping you, you finally cry out, omitting a wracked, disbelieving moan as your pleasure pulses through you; toes curling, head thrown back, body jerking and spasming beneath him. This is an orgasm which keeps on giving, deep and strong; waves of bliss rolling through you whole body. A star bursting out from your centre. A flood. Quite literally a flood, intense and urgent and everywhere, and you look down at yourself. This is something else. Something more. A bigger heaven. You hear a new sound even, and you look down, realising that Richard’s cock has you squirting all over him, your release gushing and sloshing wet between your bodies as he continues to thrust into you, coaxing you through your peak and deepening your earth-shaking orgasm with every single movement.

“Ohhhh fuck... Richard-” you cry out, in what can only be described as awe, almost sobbing with ecstasy, your legs violently twitching and trembling as they wrap more tightly around him “-no-one’s ever made me do that before!”

Despite his gentleness, his control, this flood seems to overcome Richard too, and his thrusts become sloppy, as though he can barely stave off his release long enough to keep going, his body going near limp over you for a moment. You even swear he gets harder and bigger and deeper -if that was even possible- when he realises exactly what he made you do. When he realises that you soaked him. Flooded him. Your liquid and your juices shining on his stomach and coursing down his sturdy thighs.

You worry for a moment- you wonder whether he minds or if he likes it, as your release coats his skin and the tangle of sheets, but you needn’t worry for anything more than a moment. In response to your deluge, Richard looks at you as though you are a divine being, and, if you thought he seemed dishevelled with need earlier, this is something else. He’s undeniably into it. Indeed, as he takes in the sight of you below him, bared and writhing in ecstasy amidst a tangle of wet sheets, he stutters moans into the air, his thrusts become more determined, his cock pumping into you with refreshed vigour.

“N- never done that b-before?”

“No, Richard. Fuck. You made me-”

“-I’m going to make you do it again,” he purrs, and it is not a command at all. He never loses his characteristic gentleness. It is half a plea and half a promise, his sincere as ever. “Do it for me again, Bonita,” he coaxes, and he sounds thoroughly levelled by you. He sounds like he can’t get enough of you.

Fuck. You don’t know if you can...

“You can do it, baby. Please. Soak me again.”

You don’t think you can, until Richard is talking to you like that, with profuse, sugared pleas, and until he is hitting you exactly where you need, how you need, all over again.

You practically scream with it, weep with it, curse with it, sending a hoarse, high-pitched crescendo into the air, the keen punctuated by quickened, spent grunts Richard expels into the air with each deep, thick, purposeful thrust into you. You don’t think you’ve ever felt a more assured cock.

You don’t think you can, until-

When you gush over him a second time you are more prepared for it. Prepared enough to watch as you spill over him. Prepared enough to catch the positively awed, sunken expression which spreads over Richard’s face. To appreciate the sound of your release squirting over him and sloshing, wet in-between your bodies, liquid slapping against the roundness of his soft stomach as he thrusts into you faster; more urgently. This time -how can he help it- Richard comes undone with you; and, suddenly it seems everything is liquid, like a flood.

You can feel him fill you up, can feel his hot seed pulsing all the way from the base of him and coating your walls with thick ropes of cum as his hips stutter, burying his length into your heat as deep as he can go. He goes practically limp on top of you, hips collapsing into yours, and you feel him filling you -once again- to your limit, as the motion drives him just a little deeper, just a little closer. Meanwhile, you twitch and shudder and writhe and clench through your aftershocks with Richard still balls deep inside of you, barely able to comprehend the new heights of pleasure you have reached together. Awed, by the way your bodies are speaking like they’ve known each other for years too - despite that this is their first encounter.

There’s this wetness. This wetness everywhere; inside you, on you, under you, and for several moments you feel you too could be liquid, melting and pooling and coursing from the bed. Becoming vapour and evaporating from his hot, sweat-slickened skin. You might, if it wasn’t for Richard - his weight settled on top of you in a pleasing crush. His head settling in the crook of your neck, his length still inside you, his tongue laving to bury itself in your mouth too in a desperate, haphazard motion. He means to bury himself in all ways he can, you think, and you let him. You let him become your stone heart, as you are nothing but boneless, bodiless flesh; an oiled thing beneath him like pulverised, spent fruit - all your juices squeezed out.

You coil your limbs fluidly around him, and you engulf his sturdy form with your softness, holding him at the centre of you. Still buried -softening too- in your centre. Held in this intimate circle of your arms. Becoming the centre of your universe.

You bind yourself to him. You become his. His fruit.

Still panting, spent, hot, Richard rolls off you then, his stiffness gone and his body boneless now too, his stomach and his thighs sheening with a concoction of wetness. His smooth, hairless chest slick with sweat. He collapses beside you, but he immediately reaches for your hand and presses his body to your side. Immediately checks that you’re alright, as you truly become corporeal again, flitting down from heaven and into his arms; a conduit of heaven too, you think.

Now, what the… hold up a damn second. What did this sweet man just-

You gush. You gush for him in words now that the old relic of language and (almost) coherent thought has returned to you, your voice still breathy and discombobulated. “Richard. Richard? Richard! Fuck me. That was... I need you to know that was... Fuck. Phenomenal. I’ve never. In my life. I’ve never done that before. I’ve never... Oh my God. I can’t feel my face. Was that... good for you? Was it...? Fuck. Sweet man.”

Richard chuckles fondly at your near-incoherent babble of words, drawing you into his chest and cradling you like you are a precious thing – the most precious thing.

“It was perfect,” he whispers, satin soft, through a disbelieving breath, and his words make your heart flutter and your stomach tumble pleasantly. Richard’s soft sounds continue, as he whispers sweet names and gentle praises into your hair, kissing everywhere he can reach to punctuate his words, and smoothing his fingers in nonsense shapes over your skin. Hermosa. Bonita. Preciosa. “Everything was perfect. You’re so perfect. I’ve never... I’ve never had someone take care of me so well, princesa. Thank you.”

You can hear it - the flood of emotion in his voice, and, at his admission, his praises, the rush, tears pool in your eyes. It seems he has yet more water to drain from you as a patter of tears course over the bridge of your nose and settle in the hollow of his chest. However, it is not sadness, but joy, you realise. You are thoroughly overwhelmed by how held you feel. By how happy you feel. However, when your eyes brim over and you sniffle, Richard cranes his head down towards you, pulling you up from him so your eyes can meet his.

He looks momentarily devastated. “What’s wrong? Please tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

“No, sweet man. Not at all. It was perfect for me too,” you are quick to reassure, and, as you shuffle on to your stomach, propping yourself up to gaze into his eyes, Richard runs a solitary thumb across your cheek. You ache with the tenderness of his touch. “Just... I’ve never had anyone take care of me like that either,” you admit, and his eyes shine gently at you, misting over with pure, unadulterated adoration. “I’ve never felt so-”

Loved.

Loved, you realise you want to say, but that would be ridiculous, right? This is your first date.

Who said anything about love?

Still, you realise that is the truth of things. That is exactly how he made you feel. Richard was so tender with you, so present, so sensual, so connected. So… right. Had you made him feel this way too? Will he let you take care of him again?

You want to. You so desperately want to. Want to protect him, care for him, laugh with him. Rest your head on the soft pillow of his stomach as he holds you close to him.

He has taken care of you so well, and you don’t want him to stop.

Please. Don’t stop.

Still, as you silently contemplate all of this, Richard simply bundles you firmly into his chest. if you are unable to find the right words, at least he is able to find the gesture. And so, the need to clean up forgotten, the cloying wetness of your skin and the sheets seemingly not bothering him, you languish against him, safe and warm and held.

“Did it feel good?” he asks, after a few moments of comfortable silence. “When you… um…?”

“Squirted all over your cock? Hell yes.” You interject, able to find the words for that at least, filling in the blank for him and laughing gently against his skin. You weren’t able to turn the act into poetry, not yet, your words clumsy and crude, but you didn’t exactly need to. The whole act felt like poetry already. Poetry written on your bones. Etched into your heart.

When he flooded you.

“Maybe you can write about it,” he suggests, and you can hear the cheeky, playful smile dancing on his lips.

“Richard Alonso Muñoz,” you scold, teasingly, your fingers dancing equally playfully over his smooth chest. “Is that what you want me for? You want to be immortalised in poetry? I don’t think you’re as innocent as you let on, are you?”

“I’m not?” he chuckles warmly.

“You read erotic poetry and trashy romance novels… and you fuck like that.”

Make love, like that.

You still cannot move beyond crude words, but in your heart, he makes the words come easily.

“Truthfully, it’s... not always like that,” Richard admits. “It’s… only like that with you.”

Once again, his sincerity has you speechless, and it is all you can do to hold him close to you, as tightly as you can, your eyes squeezing closed and a soft smile tipping your lips. He holds you in return. Holds you in this perfect moment.

“It really did feel good though. It was… I can’t even describe it. My body feels likes a… fucking… limp, wet noodle.”

The laugh he emits at your words is music. “Wet noodle? Aren’t you supposed to be a poet, darling?” Oh, he’s teasing you now? This sweet man is teasing you?

You gasp, mock affronted, and jab him playfully in the stomach with your finger, in the spots you remember he is ticklish. “Rude!” you exclaim, and he jiggles joyously against you. When the laugh dissipates, leaving only smiling, appled cheeks, silence once again enfolds you like a warm, comfortable blanket.

“I was thinking,” he begins softly, after a few moments of laying together. “We could go to the farmer’s market tomorrow. The one with the cider donuts. We could take Lady.”

You can’t answer right away, can’t find the words, and it is all you can do to tug in a slow breath. Your hesitation evidently has Richard worrying again, and he rushes to fill in the blank space with his own insecurities. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice brittle. “I assumed... because I want to, but... but maybe you’re not thinking that you want to see me again...”

You pull back. Urgently moving so that you are face-to-face with him on the pillow, his body following yours on to his side too, like a magnet. You cup his face again, with your tender, open hand. You look him in the eyes. Those sweet, expressive, cola-coloured eyes. Your heart is shining for him, and it feels rubbed until it gleams.

You examine his tentatively hopeful expression. You get the sense that this man falls hard. Falls quickly. He’s in love with love, after all. You, on the other hand, love slow. And so, even as it breaks your heart that you can’t yet say the words aloud, you deflect. “You want to know what I’m thinking, Richard?” He nods. “I’m still thinking about how you turned me into a wet noodle. You should be the smuggest Adonis this side of Midtown - how on earth are you playing that one so cool?”

Richard’s face pinches a little, his gaze dropping from yours, lashes fluttering.

“It was perfect,” he agrees, in a small voice. “But, I guess, I’m not as… surprised as you are.” You shake your head slightly, in mild confusion. Wanting him to elaborate. “I always imagined you would be perfect.” He blinks shyly, and attempts a masking smile. “I don’t know if you thought the same way about me.”

A terrible lump swells in your throat. Your chest tightens.

It’s time to speak. To make your words a little more like poetry.

But it’s scary. It’s hard. You know that now.

“That’s not quite it, sweet man,” you begin. Realisation sinking heavily through you, drawing your brow down with it. Richard searches your face, encouraging you to go on, expression open; pretty eyes big. And, although the words are hard to say, they are easier. The words are easier around him. “Honestly, Richard? I think, you’ve always been perfect. I just didn’t want to realise it. I didn’t want to notice you,” you confess, your voice cracking with emotion.

“Why?” Richard encourages, a knot in his brow now too as he smooths his thumb earnestly over your cheek, breath bated. His touch is like the path of a match against its counterpart box; it is a little thing, which threatens to ignite something far larger.

“I…” you sigh out some of your tension and nerves with a billowing exhale. “I suppose… because I knew. That as soon as I saw you, there would be no going back. I must have known deep-down, that if I saw you, that I… I could love you so quickly.”

Richard swallows. “Is that… not something you want? Love?”

“It didn’t used to be. I… didn’t used to believe I deserved it,” you reveal, tears balling in your eyes as all of your deepest fears and secrets loosen and rattle inside your chest, gradually being shed and needing to find their exit.

“And now, preciosa?” Richard asks, gingerly smoothing a hand over the crown of your head, dipping a moustached kiss to the centre of your forehead. “What do you believe?”

Now? Now, it is different, and a cautious smile slowly claims your lips - even as your cheeks are wet by tears.

“I’m thinking, Richard Alonso Muñoz, that… That nothing would give me greater pleasure than accompanying you to the farmer’s market.”

Your words sound flippant, perhaps insignificant, but you can tell, from the way Richard’s eyes pool with a subtle, brewing joy, that your true meaning is abundantly clear to him. So, in mutual celebration your lips press together in a crush, smile lines radiating across his face. When he pulls back though, a gentle, playful heat seemingly overtakes him. “Are you sure about that, bonita?” he asks in a fond, teasing tone. As his chest shakes in a rich, gleeful chuckle, you perfectly catch his meaning too.

“Okay, okay,” you concede, with a giggle, as he slants his hips forward, pressing his already hardening length against your thigh. “Maybe there is one thing that could give me more pleasure.” You tick-up a suggestive eyebrow. “Want to remind me?”

“Please,” he purrs, just as broken with need as before. “My beautiful, wet little noodle.”

At his ridiculous new pet name -which you only have yourself to blame for, honestly- you squeal brightly, expelling musical peals of laughter into his open-mouth as he surges to kiss you, the act imbued with deep affection. He kisses you until the laughter pleasantly dissipates, your bodies suffusing with a resurgent heat, as you tangle together all over again.

As Richard holds you, every so tenderly, you are overcome. Your loneliness? It has never felt so far away. You hadn’t realised how much you needed somebody to love. You hadn’t realised that someone was him. You hadn’t wanted to admit it. But, oh, you are realising it now. And, you are never going to forget it.

“Kiss me again,” you plead into the air.

“Where?”

“Everywhere.”

Everywhere.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he responds, affirmatively, and with relish, you feel his moustache graze the column of your neck. Somehow, you don’t think you’ll ever tire of that feeling.

As his lips crush to your again, you note how he tastes. A combination of your sweet, nectar-like juices, and the subtle tang of sweat he has kissed from your sex-flushed skin. He tastes like a salted peach. He is pure poetry, you think. You’ve never tasted anything quite as sweet, and you’ve never experienced such a flood. And, now that your deluge of joy is through -your happiness instead streaming steadily- it no longer feels heavy. It no longer weighs you down.

You want to love him, and be loved; and, you will.

What’s more. You deserve every bit of it.

It’s the little things. One by one. And then, suddenly, there it is. There’s everything; in your arms.

#Richard Alonso Muñoz #richard alonso munoz x reader #the letter room #Richard Alonso Muñoz x reader #Oscar Isaac

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elliesguitarstrings · 4 years ago

Text

Silence (Part 4)

Masterlist//Series Masterlist

Peter Parker x Stark!reader

Summary: You and Peter have been best friends ever since he stepped foot into the avengers compound. After a year of being friends you realize you’ve developed a crush on him, but he doesn’t feel the same way… at least, you don’t think he does.

A/N: This is the second to last part I think! I was gonna do just one more long part but I want to keep this series going for a little longer so I decided to split it into 2 more parts so this one is kinda short. Please keep sending requests bc I’ve really enjoyed writing them and I’m hopefully gonna post more of them soon <3

Warnings: language, little bit of angst

~~~~~~~~

It’s been three days since you last spoke to Peter. Three long, antagonizing days.

The fact that Peter kept ignoring you for MJ just pushed you to your breaking point. Plus, your chance with Peter is slim to none at this point, and it would just hurt more to stay so close to him knowing that he would never love you as much as you love him. Despite all the shitty things he’s done in the past few days, you still love Peter, which makes ignoring him all the more painful. But you had no other choice.

You hadn’t had a proper conversation with him since the dreadful events of your “friendiversary,” which for you and Peter was practically unheard of. You passed him in the halls of the compound and occasionally shot him a glance at team meetings, but other than that you ignored him completely.

Sitting on your bed, you pick up your phone.

14 New Messages from Peter

P: Y/N?

P: Y/N can we please talk

P: why are you ignoring me

P: what did i do wrong can we please talk

P: Y/N why won’t you respond

P: how long are you gonna ignore me for

You stop reading after the sixth text. He’s been texting you constantly, but you never respond. To be honest, you don’t actually know how long you plan on ignoring him for. Obviously, you have to hash it out at some point, but you don’t think that will be anytime soon. Well, at least you hope it won’t be anytime soon.

Suddenly, FRIDAY announces, “Miss. Stark, Mr. Stark has requested you in his lab.”

You sigh, “What for?”

“Official Avengers business, so I would hurry.”

That peaks your interest, so you quickly leave your room and jog downstairs to your dad’s lab. You scan your fingerprint on the keypad, and the glass doors automatically side open, granting you access.

“Y/N, great, you’re here. I’ve got some big news,” your dad states.

“Really? What is it?” you ask excitedly.

“I’ve talked it over with the rest of the team, and we’ve all decided that you’re ready.”

“What!? Like ready to be an Avenger?” at this point, you’re practically shaking with excitement.

“Yes. You’ve had plenty of training, and we could use some extra help, so I’ve decided to make you an official part of the Avengers. Congrats honey.”

You rush to hug your dad, squeezing him tightly, “Thank you thank you thank you! You’re the best!” You pull away, “Does that mean I get to go on missions now?”

“Not just yet Y/N, you’ll just be starting off with patrol right now. I want to make sure you’re really ready.”

Normally, you would be opposed to this, begging him to let you go on a real mission, but at this point any excuse to get out of the compound and away from Peter was good enough for you.

“Okay! Can I go today?”

“Actually, that works out great! Peter has patrol in Queens tonight, so you can go with him. He can give you the lay of the land, tell you how stuff works and all,” he smirks.

“No, absolutely not,” you answer sternly, “I am not going with him.”

“Then I guess you won’t get to be part of the team.”

“WHAT? THAT’S NOT FAIR!”

“Y/N, now is not the time to be raising your voice at me. You can’t pick and choose who you fight with, just like you can’t pick and choose who you fight against. If you can’t figure out how to work out your stupid teenage problems, then I can’t have you on the team. I don’t want you jeopardizing a mission because you can’t work out a stupid problem with a boy.”

“But dad-“

“No buts. You either do your job or you’re not a part of the team. Understand?”

“Fine.” You storm out of the room, upset that yet another exciting thing is ruined by Peter.

As you hurry back to your room, you glare at Peter who is sitting on the couch watching TV. He starts to get up to talk to you, but is stopped by Nat, who follows you upstairs. Before you get the chance to slam your door shut, she catches it and slips into your room after you, shutting the door behind her.

“Okay, what’s going on with you and the kid?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on Y/N, it’s obviously not nothing. Everyone’s noticed that you’ve been ignoring him. Even Clint commented on it this morning, and he doesn’t give a shit about anything that goes around here.”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because I know you have feelings for him.”

Taken aback, you stutter, “W-what? No I don’t. You have no proof.”

“Oh please, I see the way you act with him, or well, how you used to act around him before you decided to start ignoring him for no reason.”

When you don’t respond, she sits down next to you on your bed. “Look Y/N, I know we’re not best friends, but you can talk to me. Just tell me what’s going on and maybe I can help. You can’t just keep your feelings bottled up like this. Trust me.”

“Fine,” you huff, “I do like him, but he doesn’t like me.”

“Is that why you haven’t been talking to him?”

“Sort of. But there’s more to it. He likes this girl from his school named MJ, and he’s been choosing her over me for a while now. And then the other day I had this whole day planned out for us because it was our one year anniversary of first meeting and becoming friends, and he invited MJ and one of his other friends to come with us,” tears start to roll down your cheeks, “And he spent the whole day with her, like he was purposefully avoiding me and rubbing it in my face that he doesn’t like me like that, that he’ll only see me as a friend.”

You scoot closer to Nat, and surprisingly, she pulls you into a short, but comforting hug. It actually means a lot to you, given that she’s not really the hugging type, and it makes you feel a but better knowing that she’s willing to comfort you.

“I’m sorry about that Y/N. It doesn’t seem like something Peter would do.”

“I know, which is why I’m even more pissed at him.”

Nat stares at the wall for a few seconds, seemingly deep in thought.

“I think you should tell him how you feel, tell him that you like him.” she states pointedly.

“What? Why would I do that?” you exclaim, taken aback.

She stands up off the bed and starts to walk out of the room, “Trust me. I have a hunch about it.”

She smirks and swiftly walks out the door, leaving you completely and utterly confused. For the time being, you decide to ignore it, ruling out the idea of confessing your feelings to a boy who doesn’t even like you, and who you are extremely mad at. That would be insane, right?

~~~~~~~~

Taglist: add yourself to my taglist here!

Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you :(

All: @pxkajesus @hollanddolanfangirl @roseke @agentsofparker @lifeasjazzz @damnrancidchicken @loopyolivia @iwannabekilledtwice @rafehogwarts @non-eexistent @rosiexx8 @nearlydanger9 @realityisabitch07 @midgardassassins @jbreenr @cap-marvxl @ellesmythe @deepestcolorgiantopera @that-one-person @clandestine-nerd @nevertrustapanda16 @ohabbyoh @rxmanxff @bubbleskz @quinn-spn58 @baby-pogue @strangebouquetqueen @thatforgottenangel @pjmjams @tiredstudenttrinity @isabella-bby @i-will-take-care-of--you @hollandprkr @ladykxxx08

Peter Parker: @blizzardbabe @ifyouwereanybraveryoudbealioness

Series: @t-hollanderr @allycat449-blog @haley-talks-too-much

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coeurdastronaute · 4 years ago

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Essays in Existentialism: Plus One, Ch. 2

Previously on Plus One

It oscillated every other minute between being an amazing idea, but also being the worst idea of all time, and Lexa was mostly exhausted of bouncing back and forth. It might be easier, she decided, if she just got herself on board with it being a good idea, but a deep, gnawing hole seemed to manifest itself in her gut at the very thought of seeing her ex.

As she went through the motions of finishing the day, of doing inventory because it was Wednesday, Lexa tried not to distract herself with the thoughts of her impending trip. In just forty-eight hours, she’d be face to face with Costia, who she hadn’t seen in months, who she avoided before occasionally running awkwardly into each other at mutual friends’ events. She’d come face to face with her ex who was getting married.

And she was going to do it with a complete stranger on her arm.

With a heavy sigh, Lexa tossed her clipboard on her tiny desk in the storage closet and plopped down in the squeaky chair, tipping it back with a wail. Her sister was the worst.

It was quiet in the shop, closed for just a handful of hours, Lexa always took a day to inventory and repair the damage of the week. She enjoyed the late evening work, when her workers were gone, and the shop was empty and full of dreams. No one knew how the cabinets stayed so clean, or how the scratches on table tops got sanded and fixed, or how the wobbly table by the window was miraculous cured one day, or how the ceiling fans got dusted, just that it all happened, and Lexa was off, meaning she didn’t come in until at least ten, the following morning.

But Lexa sat in the chair and let her brain do the same mental gymnastics it always seemed to do in the new quiet she found herself craving. She opened her laptop and ignored the awaiting spreadsheet, and instead opted to look over the answer Clarke had given her to the “Know your partner” quiz Clarke googled and made them both do. A mix of basic information and Newlywed Game style innuendos, Lexa filled hers out after a bottle of wine and anxiously waited for Clarke’s.

That was what started the daydreaming. She scrolled through Clarke’s answers and furrowed, doing her best to memorizing all that she could, as if she’d be tested on it all, as if it’d be impossible to believe she could be happy with someone like Clarke.

And when those thoughts started to seep into her brain, Lexa leaned back again and dug the tips of her fingers into her eyes.

In a week it’d be over.

And with that and a deep, heavy sigh, Lexa looked at the screen again and went about learning Clarke.

She started professionally, of course, looking at her corporate page and resume, because this was, if not anything, simply a business transaction and Lexa thought it was easier to parse a person if she didn’t actually have to fall for her.

A graphic designer at Anya’s firm, Clarke held accolades and a long list of references. The link to her work showed a wide range of commercial campaigns and a certain amount of talent evident by her list of upcoming projects. A graduate of a small, private, liberal arts university, her academics leaned heavily scientific, which was a surprise until Lexa read some of the answers in the survey about a degree in physics given up for art.

Lexa promised that she wouldn’t have looked at Clarke’s Instagram if Clarke hadn’t requested her first. She wasn’t someone who lurked, or at least she thought she wasn’t. She didn’t want to be someone who snuck around, digging through someone’s past, analyzing every filter and caption like a private investigator. But then Clarke appeared.

And there were pictures of Clarke with friends getting drinks on a rooftop. And then the one with her laughing and baking. Or the Christmas party where she was on a corporate Santa’s lap, smiling so wide her eyes were shut. Despite herself Lexa found herself smiling along with the girl in the pictures. The one who went hiking with a pack of dogs, and the one who seemed to always be eating something. The one who had a lot of friends and enjoyed making them smile and laugh. The girl who posted storie about her morning run, and the girl who seemed to have a healthy work life balance.

Lexa closed the webpages and stared at her inventory for exactly two seconds before curiosity won again and Lexa started looking at Costia’s account. There were the standard pictures of her pre-wedding planning. There was Costia working out. There was her new bride-to-be, happy and smiling at a gift for her birthday.

And then a throwback that made Lexa’s stomach drop as she stared at a familiar image of Costia smiling in a bikini on a beach. It was from the last trip they took. Lexa was the one behind the camera.

Three weeks after that picture was taken, Lexa walked in on Costia and a girl in the middle of the afternoon. Right in their own bed. Only to then discover it’d been going on for months. And it wasn’t the first. And then, Lexa didn’t remember much except that she moved into the apartment above her coffee shop and woke up one morning alone on sheets that weren’t familiar, in a room full of boxes.

It seemed even more difficult to start inventory after that shot to the gut.

But her phone went off, and Lexa leaned back in her chair after shutting the laptop again, wondering if that sinking feeling ever went away when it came to someone you love, or loved, or once loved, even for a moment. She didn’t have anything to compare it to, and she didn’t have any idea what love really was.

It felt like a deep wound was scratched open, the scab pulled back, and a burning numbness gnawing at the bottom of her spine. It felt like it would swallow her whole, and Lexa hated, more than anything, giving anyone the power to do anything as such over her.

Hey! Do you think this will go with your outfit?

An image came next, of Clarke in a dressing room wearing a very pretty dress, with very messy hair with her tongue sticking out. Lexa didn’t notice the gnawing feeling disappear.

We don’t have to match completely.

We do! Don’t you know how to date?

Not really.

Another picture of another dress came a moment later. Clarke was pretty. She was happy and silly and kind. It felt oddly normal, for as crazy as the whole scheme actually was.

I like that one, Lexa wrote, making sure to add a heart-eyed emoji to emphasize her point. Maybe that was flirting. Maybe she was allowed. She definitely needed more rules.

Good, I do too. It matches your tie, you know? And these heels will still leave you a little taller than me.

Sounds good to me!

Kind of excited. I guess I’ll see you at the airport tomorrow.

I’ll be the one at the bar.

I’ve heard it’s possible to find your soulmate at the airport. Something about the crossing of paths and time and space.

If my soulmate is a bottle of wine, then I reckon I might.

A love story for the ages.

Lexa smiled once more at her phone before tossing it to the side and letting her head drop to the desk. With a groan she growled into her hands and broke it down. She just needed to make it seventy-two hours. That was it. She could sleep for about twenty of those. She could drink for another twenty or more, if she really tried.

But this was it. This was the end.

And regardless of the weight of everything else, there was something satisfying about knowing it was almost over.

XXXXXXXXXX

The airport was absolutely teaming with bodies and people, weaving their way through the swelling crowds, loading and unloading the terminals at a constant, steady thumping rate, so regular one could set a watch to the heartbeat of the building.

Clarke adjusted her bag on her shoulder and tapped the ticket against her thigh as she moved through the security line. The nerves were coming for some reason. That was why she was at the airport three hours before the flight. She was anxious and needed a stiff drink and a few moments to catch her breath. She needed to escape the whirlwind she’d allowed herself to create.

Carefully, she made her way through the airport, checking the boards and finding her way to a seat in the empty waiting room. Not even an attendant waited at the kiosk.

Once again, she let herself awkwardly scroll on her phone, learning everything she could about her future date and weekend plans.

Lexa was nearly non-existent online. She didn’t have any pictures of herself. She rarely posted anything on her personal account, and when she did, it was just a book or a coffee or from a trip. She wasn’t one to enjoy being the center of attention, but when it came to her shop, she made sure to post almost daily, highlighting her employees and their recommendations, she made share to highlight events, she made sure to be as active as possible.

Anya had already warned Clarke that her sister was devoted to her work. She’d poured all of her effort into being successful and part of the community, and Clarke admired it, she just wished that there was more for her to see.

And so, once more, she flipped back to the long line of questions they’d filled out before giving up and gazing out the window at the planes coming and going.

For a moment, she allowed herself to think that she was doing something nice and good. It was an act of charity. It was the shake up Clarke needed and was selfishly trying to package as benevolent.

“You beat me, and I’m usually the first one here for a flight,” Lexa observed, walking up to Clarke, stealing her from her reverie.

“I like airports. Just waiting for true love to stroll up and introduce themselves.”

Lexa shoved her hands in her pockets, her bag balanced on her shoulder as she cautiously looked around, surveying the empty terminal slowly. Clarke watched her look around, smiled at the innocence of it. Enjoyed the way she ran her hand through her hair, mussing it up a bit and tossing it to another side.

“No one likes airports,” Lexa shook her head before taking the seat beside her.

“I do. They’re romantic.”

“Romantic?”

“You can get onto a plane, and a few hours later, you’re hundred of miles away, and it’s different weather, and it’s a different time zone. You can go to sleep in a different state. How can you not be romantic about that.”

“It’s a tin can filled with recycle air.”

“But there are peanuts.”

That did it. Lexa cracked a smile to herself and relaxed a little.

“I was going to be the first one here. Surprise you with coffee, but you beat me to it.”

“You are quite a good girlfriend. Someone clearly trained you well.”

Lexa shook her head, somewhat bashful, somewhat reserved. There was always something right there, just below the surface, obfuscated by a kind of resolve to never give anything away, not at any price. Clarke read it between words in their texts and emails, a glaring finality in the simple pixel of a period.

“Can I get you a coffee? Two creams, two sugar right?”

“You don’t have to--”

“It’s early and I’m trying to be charming. Allow me to somewhat repay you for this whole endeavour.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, darling.”

With the term of endearment, Lexa nodded, grinning into her chest as she stood and made her way across the terminal in search of sustenance. Clarke watched her take out her phone, texting her sister no doubt.

Once more, Clarke resumed the digging on her own, scrolling on her own phone at old pictures on Lexa’s profile. She was ready for fun, and she was ready to crack at that facade.

“I don’t know if this will help,” Lexa sighed as she sat down. “I didn’t sleep a wink last night.”

“Oh this won’t be good for me either,” Clarke said as she took a sip. “I’m a fairly nervous flyer.”

“And yet you let me get us both coffee.”

“You made a good point, and I’m prepared to be paid back all weekend.”

With another grin, Lexa leaned back, her arm going on the back of the chair that Clarke inhabited, naturally, with ease, with a level of comfort.

“Are you ready to tell me the story?”

“Which one is that?” Clarke turned to look at her date, returned from an absent moment.

“How we met.”

“How we met,” she nodded, her smile bordering on mischievous. “That’s simple. Don’t you remember? It was a very blustery Tuesday, and I was trying to escape the wind and rain. I almost tripped coming into your coffee shop, but you happened to be sweeping, and were kind enough to catch me.”

“You’re severely overestimating my reflexes.”

“Fine. I ran you over and we both ended up on our asses in the middle of the coffee shop. Coffee everywhere.”

“Sounds pretty likely.”

“And I knew right there, I was hooked. Those eyes, all angry and annoyed at me for not looking where I was going, despite my persistent defense that I’d been assaulted by the weather.”

“Why do I have to be the angry one?”

“Wouldn’t you be though?” Clarke returned, daring her to be contradicted.

“Maybe,” Lexa agreed over the lid of her cup, fretting with it nervously.

“So I crashed into you, and you bought be a coffee. I turned up every day after that until I finally asked you out. You took longer than I would have liked to answer me, but I accepted it anyway, and we’ve been madly in love ever since.”

“And when was this?”

“About eight months ago.”

“How’s it going so far?”

“Splendidly. I’ve already met your sister, who it happens that I work with, which is super convenient for everyone.”

Quietly, Lexa sat there, going over the story, going over all of the past eight months of apparent bliss in her head. Clarke watched her furrow before softening, her eyes not seeing, but rather looking through the window as a plane took off and another landed. The softening of her features was soon met with a perplexion, a slight, gentle contortion of the brow and the lips, a tightening as a kind of confusion overtook the ease of the entire story.

“Is it that easy?” Lexa asked quietly, turning her head toward her date. Clarke cocked her head, waiting for more. “Is all of it… just… a wind? Waiting for someone to just ask you out? Is it that easy? Does that happen to people?”

“It can. How does anything happen in the world? It just… does. The universe is just a series of things happening, all of the time, right?”

“But is it that easy?”

To her credit, Clarke thought about it. She flexed her jaw and took a deep breath before slowing letting it go as she wondered if it really was.

“I don’t know. Maybe it can be.”

“How?”

“I guess there has to be a balance to making things happen and letting things happen.”

“I don’t know if I’m good at either of those things,” Lexa confessed. She sat up straighter a moment later, afraid of her honesty, and surprised more by how easily it came out.

“I think you can be.”

“That’s probably too kind.”

“We’ll see.”

Clarke rubbed Lexa’s shoulder, rubbed the middle of her back between her shoulder blades until she reached the collar of her shirt, where she massaged her neck. She tensed before relaxing, and Clarke didn’t stop, just rubbed there gently, slowly until she knew it was enough and she trailed her palm back toward the seat.

It was right there, they just didn’t know it.

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hermit-god-au-pog · 3 years ago

Text

[OLD AND MAY BECOME NON-CANON LATER ON] Got some short stories for ya’ll!

After much struggle i managed to think of some more lore based prompts for some short stories! They’ll be under the cut!

One of a conversation between Helsknight and EvilXisuma, the other of an interaction between TFC and GeminiTay! What can i say im a sucker for these two. The stuff is only slightly proof-read by myself so sorry for any mistakes in grammer or if things sound weird lol

Anyway, I hope ya’ll enjoy! And if i need to add any tw’s just say! I dont think i will though! Long post under the cut though

EX&Hels have a conversation

“So let me get this straight,” Helsknight sat up in his seat and leaned on the table between the two” You’re not considered a hels hermit at all?” Evil Xisuma rolls his eyes but chuckles at the other, he doesn’t blame him for not knowing, hell the only ones who probably knew were him and Grian’s little buddies.

“No, I am not a hels hermit like you. But, I work very similarly. Me personally, I’m the axolotl’s evil clone according to my code. But, and I can’t speak for the others, I still fill up the role of why a hels is created.” Helsknight slowly blinked at the other and rose an eyebrow.

“What is that supposed to mean exactly?” Evil X let out a snort at the other’s question.

“Well basically, Hels exist for one reason, to keep the gods, or hermits as we know them, in check. Granted they’re all too nice to do anything we’d do, but the point still stands. Hels are here to counteract the hermits, and the Axolotl doesn’t have a hels per say because I exist. But that’s not stopping the void from making a hels version if need be.” Helsknight leaned back and crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at Evil X.

“Ok, so because you already existed, the void didn’t make a counterpart for the admin. But what do you mean it could make another? Why would we need a third Xisuma?” Evil X tapped his chin as he thinks of what he should say.

“Well, let’s just say the void has already planned for that” Helsknight could feel the shit-eating grin the other was giving him. But Evil X gestures to another person in the room. Helsknight, begrudgingly, decided to look, and see’s what the other was talking about. There was a turtle Xisuma sitting at a bar, but he looked almost vacant, like an NPC almost.

“Now, I’ve never talked to that guy, and based on the interactions they’ve had with others, he’s entirely just a placeholder, an NPC ready to be coded into action.” Helsknight turned back to Evil X who was looking at him now.”But unless something happens to me, I keep the role of a ‘hels counterpart’ even though I’m not a hels.” Blinking, helsknight picked up his drink, downing the rest of its contents, this was a very weird conversation they were having but, informative. Then something struck him.

“You said something about others earlier” Evil X feigned innocence and confusion, making helsknight growl.

“Earlier this conversation! You said ‘ But, and I can’t speak for the others, I still fill up the role of why a hels is created’. There are others who aren’t technically hels hermits on the server?” Evil X snorted then started laughing. Helsknight slammed his hands on the table and stood up.

“No! I’m serious! Who the hell are the others?!” After Evil X got done with his laughing fit, he pretended to wipe away some tears.

“You really are dense my friend” before the other could reply, Evil X continued” The only ones I personally know of, are actually Grian’s-”

“You said that using plurals, does Grian seriously have 2?” Helsknight looked at the other bewildered as he nodded.

“Indeed he does my friend. I don’t entirely understand it myself. One calls themself NpcGrian, or NPG for short, the other one calls themself Robot Grian or RG for short. And between us, RG is definitely the eviler and smarter one of the two. He’s probably the one considered the hels version.” Helsknight slumped back in his seat and rubbed his temple, letting out a heavy sigh.

“Alright, to get away from that confusing topic, you said hels were made to counter the gods?” Evil X nodded.

“Yee-p” popping the p at the end, Evil X leaned forward.” All the gods being together in one space can be seen as quite a dangerous predicament, and if they ever decided to team up and rise up for some reason, no one would know before it’s too late. So to try and stop that, keep the gods on their toes and aware, the hels were made. You were one of the first to become sentient and seek out your counterpart actually”

Helsknight looked at the other for a moment then realized something. Something that didn’t settle right with him.

“How do you know all of this information? I’m pretty sure not even Xisuma knows this crap.” Hels rose an eyebrow as the other’s expression got darker behind the mask he wore.

“Let’s just say, being locked in the void for ages gives you some free time. And the ability to look through your and your clone’s codes, even though I was never able to edit them.” Huh, well that made sense.

TFC helps Gem out/aka being a god is overwhelming

Sometimes, to really appreciate the world you live in, you just gotta walk around. Taking in the sights of what the world holds and what your fellow hermits have made. And honestly, TFC is usually blown away by how talented the hermits are. He may not be much of a builder himself, but he’s happy they’ve kept him along the way nonetheless. Little ol’ miner TFC, walking amongst godly builders, figuratively and literally.

Sometimes on TFC’s walks, he’ll come across other hermits, not often, but it’s always pleasant when he does. TFC admits, he should get out to talk to the others more, but he can’t help it. The mines make him feel at home. But today, walking into one of the newer hermits areas, he had a bad feeling in his gut.

Deciding to stray from the path TFC decided to look around the area, a bit more in dept. And low and behold, once getting close to one of the new hermits custom trees, he heard soft, stifled crying. Like they were trying to cover it up. Eyes softening, TFC went over to the home next to this wonderful tree and knocked, before letting himself peek inside.

GeminiTay sat in the corner, her head snapped up and it was obvious how overwhelmed and tired she looked. TFC gave a slight smile and walked inside, closing the door gently. Gemini watched tensely as TFC walked over, his pickaxe he used as a cane clicking with every step. But, TFC sat down next to her and softly asked.

“Would physical touch help this situation or worsen it?” Seeing Gemini’s tears starting to well up more, TFC opened his arms, offering her a safe space. And she took it. Gemini scrambled to get up and hug the other. She didn’t know why his presence felt so...comforting, but it did, and once she started the hug, the floodgates were let loose. She couldn’t hold back her tears even if she tried.

TFC held the young girl close, gently rubbing circles into her back as her whole frame shook and twitched. TFC did notice the leaves that moved like butterflies flying about in the home. He semi-watched them as he comforted the hermit in his arms, taking notes on the situation.

Once TFC heard the girls’ cries soften and as her body became less shaky, he decided to start talking.

“I understand if you’re too overwhelmed to talk right now, but was this panic caused by some aspect of your godly nature?” TFC waited patiently, and when he felt a soft nod on his shoulder he let out a little sigh.

“You are one of the newest gods in general, not even to the server, have you been taught anything more than the basics yet?” a small shake of her head.”So you’re not yet in tune with who you are and the powers you possess, and due to that, something within you snapped, and you started hearing noises or voices, am I correct?” TFC could feel Gem tense like he had just read her mind, but she gave a soft nod. TFC looked around at the leaf butterflies, more seem to have gathered.

“Are the voices still present? Have they gotten any louder or more intense?” With the soft nod, TFC was starting to understand a bit more. Gently sitting Gemini up, he made the corner they were in into a cozy one full of blankets and pillows.

Gemini then watched, rubbing her slightly puffed-up eyes, as TFC started to gather the leaf butterflies. Once he got a good amount he gently set them free outside. And the more he let go, the less overwhelmed Gemini felt. Once most of the creatures were out TFC made his way back over and sat across from Gemini.

“Ready to talk?” Gemini nodded, sniffling and wiping away any stray tears. Taking a deep breath Gemini starts talking.

“So...So I was just doing my normal routine, today I decided to do some enchanting. But then my tree, my /tree/ started talking to me and I got confused. So I went over and put a hand on the tree.”Gemini paused, breath hitching again. TFC gently held one of her hands, reassuring her to take her time. After catching her breath, Gem continued.

“And..And then I...And then I heard all these voices and cries. Some were asking me for help, some were..thanking me? Some were crying, some cheering...But they all came at once and I couldn’t shut them off. Then I started hearing more despair than anything else and I... I couldn’t do it. My body got all fuzzy! And my eyes got blurry but different from tear blur. I felt my body...change. And so I ran in here. And I only started to feel my body go back to normal shortly before you came..” Gem panted softly when she was done, her tears back and starting to fall again. She was looking down at her feet.

But when she felt a soft big hand on her cheek, whipping away her tears, she looked up. TFC gave her a gentle smile, a reassuring one, and, it honestly helped her more than she would have thought.

“That my dear was your body being forced into its godly form. Every god has one, but most prefer not to be in them, as they can be taxing after long uses. But they’re nothing to be afraid of. You just went into it unwillingly.” Gemini nods softly, following along so far.”And if you would like, I can help you learn how to go into it and out of it, at will. I’ll do it with you.”

Gemini thought about it for a while. She didn’t know how long, but TFC never rushed her into deciding, only waiting patiently, giving her time to think. But, if she learned how to control that form, maybe it would be less frightening if this ever happened again. Gem then looked at TFC and gave a quick nod.

“Yea, ok. I, I want to learn how to control this...godly form of mine. But you’ll do it with me right?” TFC nodded and scooted so that they bot sat criss-cross, knees touching each other. TFC then gently held both of her hands.

“Ok, to start off with, think of why you became a god, and what you’re the god of. Think of what that means to you.” Gem nodded, closing her eyes as she held TFC’s hands. Furrowing her brows a bit Gemini thought.

Thought of the event that lead her to be a god, why she did what she did. She thought of what that event meant to her and why she would do it again. And she felt the tension in her shoulders released. Gem then thought of what it meant to be the goddess of the forest, what the responsibility and future actions might hold for her.

“Good, you’re doing great” TFC’s voice rang through her ears.”Now hold onto that feeling, clutch onto it, cherish it. Once you’ve done that, let go. Let yourself feel your body change, let it morph and melt into something new.”

Taking one more deep breath, Gem followed his instructions. The feeling her ‘job’ gave her, the hope she had for herself, and so on, she held it close to her heart, and let herself stop caring about the mortal plane for a bit. And she felt herself change. Like what happened earlier, but less jarring and harsh. She felt her body almost melt, felt it slither around while being on one spot. The feeling wasn’t unpleasant like it was before. It felt like shifting over in bed, something familiar.

“There we go, you’ve done it, you can open your eyes.” Cautiously, Gem opened her eyes, and instead of being met with the soft grandpa from before, there was a whole new person. They looked like TFC but also now. They had more sharp edges and the particles of different ores around them were very present, and they radiated the energy of a god. He reached over and cupped her cheek.

“How do you feel?” Gemini thinks, she looked down at her new self, realizing how much bigger the two were now. She looked at all the leaf butterflies, not being as scared of them now. She felt power coursing through her, the whispered of the plants and tree’s outside. But now that she’s not in her panicked state, it was a lot more comforting. Gem felt a soft smile form over their lips. Looking up at TFC she felt warmth in her chest.

“Now that I’m not panicking, it feels nice. It feels warm, and I feel stronger.” TFC nods, looking pleased.

“Now, let’s go back to normal shall we?” Gem nods and puts her head down, closing her eyes again.

“Now, recognize your form, recognize the power coursing through you. Hold that feeling, and imagine yourself tucking it away for later. Let yourself relax and let your body morph once more” And once again, Gem tried her best to follow along.

And next time she opened her eyes, the normal TFC sat in front of her. Looking down at herself, Gem saw her she was back to normal. Smiling Gem leaped up to hug TFC. Hugging back TFC gently pet her hair.

“Now, let’s get you to bed, You need some rest after all that. Tomorrow we’ll talk more about this stuff ok?”

And with that, TFC and Gem got comfy in the small comfort fort TFC had made and Gem fell asleep. During the afternoon Bdubs came to see gem, but finding her and TFC sleeping, he just smiled fondly and closed the door quietly. Informing the server not to disturb the two for the rest of the night and left the sleeping duo to rest

#hermit gods #hels hermits #helsknight #evil xisuma #tinfoilchef #geminitay #HGAU facts #i mean these short stories add on a lot to the lore of the au #and sorry ive been inactive #real life sucks lol #but i hope someone enjoys these stories haha #gems godly outfit is in the works btw!#as well as mumbo's #i might so some stuff with ijevin soon though #i miss the slime boi

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sj-thefan · 4 years ago

Text

Under the Moonlight P.3 (Ahkmenrah x reader)

Hey there! So It’s been a while since I updated this series, aka over a year, so please forgive me. Thank you for reading, if you do! I really enjoy this story. I’m thinking there may be one or two parts after this.

The events of the 2nd movie (Battle of the Smithsonian) have been changed, i.e. Abraham Lincoln does not crash through the window at the end. Also, it’s never mentioned how Kahmunrah knows how to speak multiple languages, which bothers me, but I didn’t care enough to create a backstory.

Also, as a reminder, bolded text is spoken in Arabic.

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Taglist:

@megalony

@beautiful-tragic-fallout

@zoemonster200

@a--1--1--3

@mp0625

Larry would never freely give the combination to Kahmunrah. The self-proclaimed “Pharaoh” had trapped his friends, sent some of history’s worst bad guys after him, and was an all-around evil bastard. Larry knew he would have to make a deal with the Pharaoh to save his friends, but he wouldn’t give him anything until he knew his friends were safe.

They stood in the centre of the room, arguing over who should hand over their half of the deal first.

Kahmunrah gave Larry an ultimatum, “How about I don't kill you right now, like I really, really want to, and I give you precisely five seconds to give me that tablet and tell me the combination?”

Kahmunrah’s newfound army entered the room at that moment, interrupting the two arguing men. In Al Capone’s hand was a little Einstein bobblehead.

“We already got the combination,” Al Capone exclaimed. “It's pi. –3.14159265.” He flicked the little Einstein, shushing him. “See, Crazy Hair here, he sang. Ho-ho-ho, did he sing! Like a canary.” He held the bobblehead up to Larry like he was showing off a prize.

“I’m sorry, Larry,” the Einstein frowned.

Sensing Larry’s distraction, Kahmunrah jerked the tablet from his arms. He threw the hourglass containing Jed, over his shoulder. “Must be a real bummer for you, Larry, knowing that all of your valiant efforts were, in the end, for naught.” He placed the tablet into his gate, beginning to press in the combination. “What a terrible disappointment you must be to yourself.”

The tablet began to glow, catching the attention of everyone in the room. Kahmunrah smirked as a quiet humming, filled the room.

“Do you hear that humming sound? Do you know what that sound is?” Ivan the Great raised his hand. “It's rhetorical.” He slowly put his hand back down as his fellow soldiers leered at him. “That is the sound of the End.” Kahmunrah began chanting in Egyptian.

As he continued chanting, the gate began to open. It started with the carved sarcophagus coming out of the stone. Then the door turned, revealing the gateway to the underworld. It was bright, and many of the people in the room found themselves shielding their eyes. The Egyptian chanting grew louder as it echoed from the open door.

“Welcome to the new, extended reign of Kahmunrah, Fifth King of Egypt and now the world! Horus, Ra, my warriors, come forth!” Egyptian warriors with bird heads emerged from the gate. “Send Larry Daley and his friends to their doom!” They surrounded Larry, attacking him as commanded.

“Halt,” a voice rang through the room, catching everyone’s attention. “The mighty Octavius has returned! I ride on the back of nature's most fearsome creature! I ride the squirrel! Forward now, my mighty steed!” He urged the squirrel forward, rushing through the feet of the soldier until he stood in front of Kahmunrah. He lifted his sword. “Do you wish to surrender honourably? Or must this end with the spilling of your blood?”

Kahmunrah turned his attention back to Larry. “This… This is your big rescue?”

Another voice rang out, catching everyone’s attention again. “Kahmunrah!”

His face fell when he saw who had interrupted him. He clenched his jaw. “You,” he pointed to a group of his underworld soldiers before gesturing to the people who had just entered, “change of plans. Kill her.”

Y/n stood at the entrance of the room, surrounded by some Egyptian soldiers and the group of New York Exhibits. Amelia Earhart had also arrived with several of the Smithsonian exhibits she and Larry had encountered that day.

Kahmunrah’s underworld soldiers approached the group, their spears aimed at Y/n.

“Stop,” she shouted, and the bird soldiers paused in shock. “I am Y/n, wife of Ahkmenrah, and Kahmunrah is no rightful king.” The birds turned to look at Kahmunrah, and everyone else, although they didn’t understand what was being said, followed their eye line. “He’s a cheat. He killed his brother, the chosen heir to the throne, just before he was to become Pharaoh. My husband, the rightful king, and my child, the future heir, are dead because of him. He is a traitor to Egypt. I ask you now, will you follow me—the once future queen of Egypt—or will you follow the traitor.”

The soldiers looked between the two Egyptian rulers. What she said had truth to it. Kahmunrah, although claiming to be the king of Egypt, had no Egyptian soldiers following him. Y/n had several Egyptian followers. After a minute of deliberation, they all came to the same conclusion. They turned their weapons to Kahmunrah.

Y/n smirked as Kahmunrah’s face morphed into fear. Larry slowly exited the circle that surrounded him and joined his friends.

Y/n stepped forward until she was face to face with Kahmunrah. “You should have known we’d never leave the tablet alone.”

“I was foolishly optimistic.”

Y/n turned to the underworld soldiers. “Your rest should never have been interrupted. Thank you for your service to the crown. You may return to the afterworld, but take this traitor with you.”

“You can’t do this, Y/n,” Kahmunrah snarled as he felt the soldiers grip his arm and pull him towards the gate. “I am a king.”

“You are a traitor, and you’ll find that although Egypt’s soldiers will never harm royalty, traitors are free game.” Y/n watched as the soldiers began dragging him to the gate and disappearing into the underworld. “They’ll do as they’re told.”

When the gate door finally closed, she grabbed the tablet and tucked it under her arm. She turned to the men that had been following Kahmunrah. In perfect English, she said, “Kahmunrah was a traitor to his own people. I suggest next time you chose a leader with more wisdom.” She smiled. “Now, I hope you will all return to whence you came in an orderly manner. I would hate to disturb the underworld a second time; they might be angry.”

The men looked at each other before quickly leaving the room.

The room was silent. Y/n looked around the room, accessing the damage her brother-by-marriage had done to the beautiful space.

Larry was in shock. He was glad she had shown up, but he had no idea who she was or what she wanted. For all he knew, she could be worse than Kahmunrah. He had heard Ahkmenrah’s name come up in the conversation between the Egyptians, but he had no idea what the context was.

The Egyptian soldiers that stood in front of the New York group went to the woman as she called them. Larry took the opportunity to talk with his friends without possibly causing them more harm by disrespecting any of the Egyptians.

“What just happened?” His eyes stayed focused on the group across the way as the woman gave them instructions, pointing to different places in the room.

“That there is Queen Y/n,” Amelia stated. “Quite the powerful lady, I’m not sure we’d have won this without her.”

“Why’d she help us?” Jedediah asked as he climbed out of the hourglass.

Y/n finished instructing her soldiers and made her way towards the group.

“She’s Ahkmenrah’s wife,” Sacagewea whispered.

Several of the exhibits bowed their head when Y/n came to stand in front of them.

“There’s no need for that,” Y/n dismissed. She smiled as she turned her attention to Larry. “Thank you for trying to keep this safe.” She gestures to the tablet in her arms.

“It was no problem, your highness.”

“Please, my name is Y/n.” Larry smiled an apology. “I must ask, though, it seems as if you have experience with the tablet. How have you come to possess it?”

Larry shrugged. “I’ve never really possessed it. It belongs to Ahkmenrah; I’ve just been trying to help protect it.”

Y/n’s eyes widened. “Ahkmenrah?” She quickly scanned the crowd. “Is he here?”

“He’s in New York,” Jedediah said.

“I see,” Y/n said, her face falling slightly. “Then we must go there immediately.”

Larry frowned. It would be costly enough to pay for all the exhibits to return to New York. He didn’t know how much it would cost to add a mummy onto it. He thought back to his journey through the museum. He hadn’t spotted her all night. In fact, all the Egyptian exhibits that he had encountered were in the basement. Perhaps, the Smithsonian wouldn’t notice if a single mummy went missing.

They’d have to move quickly; the sun would be coming up in just a few hours. In less than ten minutes, Larry had guided all the exhibits into a plane, and they were headed back to New York.

Previous Part |

#sj writes #under the moonlight #Ahkmenrah #ahkmenrah x reader #Night at the Museum #Night at the Museum: the Battle of the Smithsonian #Rami Malek #x reader #Disney #part 3

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amysteryspot · 5 years ago

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Better With You - Thomas Shelby x Female Reader

Request: If you can could you please do one about Tommy having a sort of possessive claim over you (not in an abusive way of course) even though you’ve never looked at him in that way, and when Michael comes into the family again you two get close, which makes Tommy extremely jealous.

Requested by: Anonymous

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Female Reader

Summary: Thomas has known (Y/N) for all of her life and loved her for most part of his, always disguising his claim on her as friendly protectiveness. What happens when Michael makes his way back into the family and starts to get a little too close to her for Tommy’s liking?

Warnings: swearing, mentions of war, mild smut (?).

Word Count: 3526

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this. Hope you all have fun reading it too. An especial thank to @the-friendly-editor for helping me edit this, it meant a lot to me. Tags are at the end of the post, if you want to be add send me a message. I would love to hear what you think of it, your feedback is always appreciated.

Things you should consider before reading this:

1. I named the Shelby’s mother Anastasia because I felt like I needed to do that. Also, I know that there is a lot of discussion about Finn and the rest of the Shelbys having the same mother or not. I just assumed that they all have the same mother and she died a little after giving birth to Finn. It is not something groundbreaking for the fic but I wanted to clarify just in case.

2. The boys went to war right at the beginning of it; I just ignored the information given to us by “The Ballad of Tommy Shelby”.

3. I probably forgot to warn you about something, I’m sorry.

(Y/N) = Your Name | (Y/N/N) = Your Nickname | (Y/L/N) = Your Last Name | (Y/E/C) = Your Eye Color

If you asked Tommy how long he had known (Y/N) (Y/L/N), he wouldn’t know how to answer—fuck, it seemed like the woman had been in his life forever.

He remembered the day his mother had brought him to the (Y/L/N)’s house for them to meet the new baby. Four-year-old Tommy had complained all the way to their neighbor’s house, much to his older brother’s amusement, until their mother had given him a scolding. (Y/N)’s birth had been the talk of Watery Lane. They finally had a sweet little girl for the neighborhood to dote on.

With two sons, Anastasia was more than happy to welcome the little girl into their lives, not so secretly longing to have a daughter, and that was the reason for Tommy to be fussing over going to see the newborn—jealousy.

However, nothing could have prepared little Tommy for what was about to happen when his mother sat him down on the couch and Mrs. (Y/L/N) put the bundle of covers in his arms—his icy blue eyes stared down at baby (Y/N), who stopped crying instantly when she looked up at him with bright (Y/E/C) eyes of her own. From that moment on, Tommy knew that he would always love her.

And love her he did, since that day and throughout all of their lives. He would raise hell at home for his mother to bring him to the (Y/L/N)’s home so he could see (Y/N), and the three adults would all be astonished at how easily the baby would stop crying when she was in his arms. It wasn’t really a surprise that the first word she babbled was “Tom” or that when she started walking, on wobbly feet, it was Tommy she was seeking.

As they grew up, they grew closer, until it became almost impossible to have one without the other. When Ada was born, Tommy was worried about the possibility that (Y/N) would forget about him, that she would be too enchanted by having another girl around. Instead, as the time passed, he discovered that his little sister was one more reason for (Y/N) to spend more time at the Shelby home.

Even when he started messing around with the boys on the street, and she befriended other girls at school, they would still seek each other out whenever they could. They stuck together when their teenage years came, when Tommy started fooling around with girls from school and secretly scaring down most of the boys that showed any interest in (Y/N).

At least, he did until the day she came crying to him about not being good enough or pretty enough for anybody, not like the girls he would go out with, and breaking his heart; that certainly wasn’t what he had in mind when chasing down the boys. All he had wanted was to protect her, to make sure that she wouldn’t exchange him for some other boy. He wanted to ensure that she was his and his only.

That was actually the reason that led to their first kiss—her first kiss—(Y/N/N) had asked him, pleaded with him, through all the tears to just kiss her and get it done. Fifteen-year-old (Y/N) was sure that nobody would ever want her, and she wanted to experience it at least once. She told Tommy he was the only one she trusted with the task.

“It will mean nothing to you, Tom. You have kissed a million other girls already—I will just be another one for you—but it’s important to me. Please, Tom? Please, please.”

Her pleas had won him over, but (Y/N)’s words couldn’t have been further from the truth—the kiss had meant something for him. It had meant more than he predicted when he gave in to her begging, because the moment their lips touched, Tommy realized he was in love with his best friend and the worst part was that she didn’t had a fucking clue about it.

Then Tommy did what he did best; he pretended that it never happened, pushing it away and never talking to anyone about the kiss or his feelings. He stopped chasing down the boys who would show interest in (Y/N) and watched as she eventually started going out with some of them, laughing with him about how stupid she was to think that no one would ever like her.

When her first boyfriend got too handsy and she broke up with him—not before giving him a good left hook that left him with a very black eye, just like Tommy had taught her—(Y/N) had gone straight to the Shelby home, looking for comfort in his arms. Tommy pretended that the gnawing feeling in his chest was nothing but brotherly protectiveness instead of anger, jealousy and possessiveness—a destructive combination, especially on a Shelby boy.

(Y/N) had stayed with him that night, and the both of them slept together like they used to when they were kids. First thing in the morning the next day, right after he left her at her own house, he found her now ex-boyfriend and beat him up. Arthur and Freddie had to get him off of the guy, afraid of what he would end up doing if they didn’t stop him.

After that, Tommy had focused on channeling his frustrations into going out with every girl in town that wasn’t her. It wasn’t difficult, he was good looking and charming and he was very aware of it; that’s how he met Greta, and thought that he could get over his feelings for his best friend with her.

Greta’s parents were against their involvement at first, but he charmed them, so they started dating. His heart broke down when (Y/N) found out and showed genuine happiness for him having finally found somebody to settle down with.

Tommy’s plan was to end things between them. However, Greta fell ill and he didn’t have the heart to break up with her, so he stayed by her side until she passed. (Y/N) gave him support in the only way she knew how: by loving him.

Just not in the way he wanted her to.

When they thought that things would go back to normal, the War exploded and Tommy did the only thing he considered right in his eyes: he enlisted alongside his brothers. Their first fight had taken place on the night he told her he was leaving for France in two weeks. (Y/N) had hit and screamed at him until he was able to take a hold on her and then, then she cried in his arms the whole night, afraid that she would lose him forever.

They did the best they could with those two weeks. Once more, nothing could have prepared Tommy for (Y/N)’s appeal the night before he was shipping to France. She had come to him right after dinner. Her father was preparing himself to leave, too, and both of the (Y/L/N) women were enjoying whatever time they had left with him before he was gone.

As they both laid there in his bed, resting in each other’s arms and staring at the ceiling, (Y/N) made the decision that would seal his fate if he could survive the war.

“Make love to me.”

It wasn’t a question, nor a request—she was simply telling him to make love to her like this was the most logical thing in the world. His breath caught in his throat, preventing him from answering at first, and (Y/N/N) took that as a cue to reassure him.

“It will be like my first kiss, Tommy, just something I have to get over with. I want it to be you. I trust you. Let me give you at least one last good memory of me before you go.”

Again, he caved in, not needing much more convincing than the certainty in her eyes as she looked down at him, propped up on one elbow. Her hand rested unintentionally above his heart. Granting her wishes, he let himself dive into his own desires, touching her the way he had wanted since they had kissed for the first time.

He worked her body like a delicate instrument and pulled at her strings smoothly, engraving every beautiful sound that he coaxed out of her and the feel of her under his fingertips in his memory. When morning came, they were still a mess of limbs intertwined together, trying to hold on to a last thread of hope and imprint the last few hours on their memories.

In a way, (Y/N) was right. The boy that entered that train in 1914 wasn’t the same that got out of it in 1918. Yet, his love for her never faltered; it just became a tad more… dangerous.

Thomas lost count of how many letters they had exchanged during the past four years. He lost count of how many times he dreamt of her, of coming back home and telling her how he felt. However, any courage he had gathered vanished the moment he saw her waiting for him at the train station. He couldn’t condemn her to a life by his side, he had already taken enough from her.

Polly had told him in her letters how (Y/N/N) had helped her with the business, with the house, with Finn, and with any other thing she could. Especially after her mother, who had given up on life after Mr. (Y/L/N) was killed in combat, passed. A part of him felt guilty for not being there for her as much as she was for him when his mother passed and his father left.

“She’s a Shelby now.”

That’s what Polly had said when he asked her if (Y/N) had any remaining family.

Not much changed when they returned. (Y/N/N) still worked with them. She spent more time at the Shelby home and the gambling den than at her own place. The two of them still sought each other out, not talking much, but enjoying each other’s company. It was in those quiet moments with her that Tommy had a little peace.

Thomas drowned himself in work to forget it all, wanting to expand the business, unleashing his ambitions so long smothered by the war. They found the guns, in a strike of luck, he thought. Both Polly and (Y/N) advised him to let it go, but he just couldn’t. It was too good of an opportunity.

Campbell had come because of it, and with him, Grace. At the time, he didn’t know who she really was. He thought that the beautiful, blonde barmaid was just that: beautiful and innocent, everything he and his family were not. So he fooled himself, fell for her, and then she betrayed him and left for America.

Again, (Y/N) was there for him, and again, he found himself sinking into his love for her. The only good thing that came from all this mess was that the business was never better. He thought that it was time to start planning for an expansion, and with that came another thing that he hadn’t quite predicted—Michael.

He had planned to find Polly’s children for her. She had been suffering quite a lot lately. Even if people thought that his heart was as good as gone, he wanted his family to be okay. He wanted them to be happy.

Thomas found the boy and he came to Polly, making his way into the family and the business quickly. That included starting to get close to (Y/N) – too fucking close for his liking.

It was supposed to be natural, he knew that. (Y/N) kept the books at the shop. She was better with numbers than most of them, so it was natural that she would be the one to help Michael when he assumed the position of accounts clerk.

After they came back, he learned that (Y/N) had become very good at sneaking around without getting caught. It was rare to see her with any men whose last name wasn’t Shelby, or wasn’t closely related to the Peaky Blinders. That didn’t mean she didn’t have men swooning over her all the time, or that he was finally okay with that—much like when they were teenagers, he wanted to chase them all down—the only difference was now he was more deadly.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

It was Michael’s voice that brought him back to reality, and his gaze fell immediately on the boy. They were all gathered on the snug in the Garrison. (Y/N) was sitting between him and Michael, Tommy’s arm casually rested on her shoulders.

(Y/N) said, “Oh, no, you would totally get it... after a few more weeks.”

Everyone burst out laughing at her remark, but the only thing he could think about was the hand Michael rested on (Y/N)’s thigh. His own hand clenched around his glass before he downed the rest of its contents.

He didn’t notice Polly’s gaze on him. Despite what most people believed, Tommy had never been a good liar. He could get away with omitting information to people and redirecting the conversation, most of the time, but a direct confrontation was a completely different thing. Polly was always able to read him first, to know the things he wasn’t willing to share.

“Maybe we should just hire you instead of Michael, then.” He ignored the look (Y/N) gave him, taking another drag of his cigarette and looking away.

However, he couldn’t miss the lingering touches, or how (Y/N/N) leaned into Michael when he talked to her, and how she was just so comfortable with him. It made his blood boil.

When (Y/N/N) said she wanted to get home he offered to walk her, and was fairly surprised at how she didn’t say a word to him until they reached her front door.

Then she turned to face him, features painted with anger, and asked, “What the hell was that, Tom?”

He actually rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

(Y/N) huffed, turning around to unlock the door before entering the house, leaving it open for him to follow. She went straight to the dressing room, shedding her coat and throwing it at the table with her purse as he followed her closely.

“Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

She was taking her shoes off, and Tommy took advantage of the moment to let his eyes follow her movements. God, was he in love with that woman.

“I’m talking about your attitude with Michael at the Garrison. That was completely unnecessary,” She said.

“Someone had to put that boy in his place,” Tommy said.

(Y/N) turned to him then, and he would be worried with that look if he hadn’t been at the receiving end of her anger for so many years.

“Oh, please enlighten me, Thomas. What is his place?” (Y/N) asked.

“For fucks sake, (Y/N/N), he was all over you!”

She rolled her eyes. “He is a boy, Thomas, a boy. He’s family…”

Tommy never thought that what would make him snap would be hearing her say that Michael was family, but apparently it was.

“He’s family, huh?” Thomas said. “He is fucking family! Then he should know better and stay away from you.”

She stared at him for a moment, brow furrowed, as she seemed to put the puzzle together in her head. “Why would he stay away from me, Tom?”

He turned around to face away from her for a moment, rubbing a hand over his face. “No, no. You won’t make me feel guilty for that.”

“Make you feel guilty for what, Tommy?”

He recognized the hint of annoyance on her tone and couldn’t ignore it anymore, the alcohol giving him the courage that he had lost that day on the train station, as he turned around and shouted, “For loving you!”

She held her breath, eyes widening as she stared back at him.

Tommy continued, “Michael should stay away from you because you’re fucking mine and I love you.”

“Tommy, I’m not your property, and you know that I love you…”

“No, you don’t,” he interrupted her, making her look at him with confusion, “You don’t love me the way I love you. The way I’ve loved you since the fucking day you asked me to kiss you when you were fifteen!”

He saw her flinch before murmuring his name, trying to gain his attention but he couldn’t stop now. The truth was finally out there and he just had to go on with it, let it all out before he lost his mind.

“You said to me that it would mean nothing, that it would be just another kiss for me, but you were wrong,” Tommy said, his breaths short.

She looked bewildered, and Tommy held onto a strand of hope he didn’t even know still existed.

“That kiss meant fucking everything. From that day on, I’ve never seen you in the same way as before, because I realized I was in love with you and you didn’t feel the same. So I ignored these feelings while I saw you going out with boys, and I’ve thrown myself into fucking every girl that wasn’t you because I knew I couldn’t have you, not the way I wanted.”

Tommy didn’t notice that he was walking to her until they were just a breath apart.

“Then I found Greta, and I thought that I could forget you, but it only reminded me that you are the only one I want. I was going to break up with her, but she fell ill. You stayed by my side, and just when I thought that I would have a chance to tell you everything, the war happened and I just couldn’t. I couldn’t, because there was no way in hell that I was going to risk going to fight in France and die. I couldn’t leave you here to suffer because of me, either because you felt the same or not.”

“Tommy…” (Y/N)’s voice was all but a whisper.

He couldn’t resist anymore, his hands brought her to him, his eyes observing hers from up close, not giving her time to talk or he would lose his courage.

“I was ready to go there and die, and never let you know how I felt. But you had to give me hope that night before I was shipped off to that fucking hell. You had to…”He took a deep breath, his eyes closing for a brief second, a flood of memories making his heart race faster. “You had to give yourself to me. You had to give me a taste of what I thought I could never have, to make me want to survive the fucking war, to come back to you, and to let you know about all of these stupid feelings.”

Tommy couldn’t wait anymore. He did the one thing he had wanted to since he had returned from France—he kissed her. It wasn’t gentle or patient; no, it was urgent and filled with passion and he didn’t know how to stop, not when she wasn’t pushing him away. He devoured her as a man starved, teeth clashing and hands grabbing at anything they could touch. They were both out of breath when they finally parted.

“You said that you wanted to give me one last good memory and it was that memory that kept me alive during most of the nights when I was stuck in the fucking mud,” Thomas said.

(Y/N)’s fingers were clinging to him like her life depended on it, like she was afraid to lose him to the War again.

Tommy took the moment to let the words spill out. “The memory of you and the feeling of you under my fingers, and all around me, and the way you tasted.”

His lips brushed against hers, fingers clawing at the flesh of her hips like they had done the night before he left for France.

He backed her up against the wall, hands trailing down to the back of her thighs, picking her up and trapping her with his body.

Tommy looked straight to her eyes as he spoke again, “How you writhed under me, all the beautiful sounds you made, and I just wanted to come back to you and make some new memories.”

(Y/N) shivered at his words. She gave him just a brief second to observe the rise and fall of her chest and her expanded pupils before he felt her fingers at the back of his head, forcing him to really look at her as she said, “Then let’s work on those new memories.”

Their lips clashed again, and every doubt that he ever felt vanished for a moment. That night their bodies moved together like old acquaintances, skin sliding against skin, hands gripping at each other, lips kissing every patch of skin while chanting a sinful choir of moans and curses alongside their names.

When Tommy woke up the next day, (Y/N/N) in his arms, he realized that he was finally home.

Taglist: @captivatedbycillianmurphy, @internalmess3

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luke-patterson-owns-my-soul · 4 years ago

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Hey Jealousy – Part One.

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Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Summary: The reader and Charlie grew up together, were the best of friends. It didn’t work well for her having boyfriends until she goes to college. Is her best friend jealous, or is everyone imagining things?

Requested: Yes / No

TW: Swearing, implies sexual intercourse, swearing, drinking Author’s notes: I had a weird dream (non-sexual) about an ex of mine and trying to make Charlie jealous (as you do), and this idea came from that. Whether it makes any sense at all remains to be seen.

Acknowledgements: The gorgeous @dream-a-little-bigger-x listened to me waffle on about this and read through most of it for me. Thank you my love.

Pairing: Fem Reader x Charlie Gillespie (eventually)

Words: 10,076

I have no idea when I’ll be posting Part Two as I am yet to write it... but I was way too impatient to sit on this.

Growing up being the best friend of Charles Gillespie was equal parts the best and worst thing. The best because he was genuinely the nicest guy, ever. He was outgoing, inclusive of everyone, and so much fun to be around. Charlie never sat still, didn’t do well with being bored, so it meant we made a lot of memories together along with our other friends.

The worst because for some reason, being best friends with a guy was off putting to other guys. Hanging out with Charlie ninety percent of the time seemed to prevent them approaching me. Even when I made it obvious I liked them, they seemed too scared to speak to you beyond a ‘hi’ or a ‘how you doin’?’. Charlie never seemed to notice how frustrated I was.

When Charlie moved to Toronto to follow his dreams of becoming an actor, it felt as if I’d lost a limb. I’d known him my entire life, had been friends for the whole time, had gone through all our firsts together, and with him not around, I didn’t know what to do with myself.

Admittedly, I was starting college just over the border in the US so there was that to keep me busy, but it wasn’t the same. Moving away from home, not having him with me, laughing at the other freshmen to help relieve my nerves. But I was alone and had no idea what I was doing.

Once I’d found my dorm room, I sat on the bed, surrounded by bags and boxes, and pulled my phone out of my bag. I needed my best friend right now, despite knowing he was probably out at auditions. I pull up my favorite contacts and tap on Charlie’s name, hoping he’ll be able to answer.

“Hey. I only have five minutes. How did the move go? Is your roommate cool? Any guys took your fancy? Have you had a chance to look around yet?” Eventually he stopped asking questions long enough to take a breath, letting me finally cut in to speak.

“Jesus Christ, Gillespie. I know you don’t have long, but do you really need to pepper me with so many questions? Don’t answer that otherwise I’ll never get to say anything.” I take a shaky breath and slowly start answering his questions. By the time I finish filling him on my day so far, he’s grinning at me.

“Sounds great, Trouble. I’m really pleased for you.” I rolled my eyes at his use of the nickname he gave me when we were seven and I punched a boy in the nose for tripping Charlie over and laughing at him cutting his chin on a small rock. “So, what do you have planned for the rest of the day?”

“I have some orientation thing, then I don’t know. Maybe just chill in my room, get to know my roommate when they finally get here.”

“Hey, listen. I gotta go. But I’ll call you when I get back to the apartment so you can tell me more. Especially if your roommate’s pretty.”

“You’re such a fucking horndog, Gillespie. Love you.”

“Love you too, Trouble.”

My ‘don’t call me that’ died on my lips as the call ended and the photo of Charlie and me camping at the Bay of Fundy a couple years back that had been my wallpaper since his sister took it filled the screen. My happiness of speaking to him faded as I realized I was alone, again.

:: ::

I had been at college for three months, and I was almost at the end of my first semester. Charlie was busy with filming a show he’d booked. I knew nothing about 2nd generation, but he was so excited, I couldn’t help but be so happy for him. We spoke most days and texted so much that all my friends thought we were dating. No matter how much I told them we were only friends, no one ever believed me.

The wall above my desk was covered in photos of the two of us and our other friends, and your roommate, Lena, was obsessed with him.

“Honey, if you ain’t tapping that, if he ever comes to visit, I’m stepping up.” She’d told me the first time she looked at a photo of Charlie. Every time the two of us facetimed, and she was in the room with me, she would butt in and flirt outrageously with him. I would laugh at him flirting back, enjoying the fact my two closest friends, one old and one new, got along.

I’d found it easier to settle into college life than I expected without having him with me. Maybe, if I was honest, him not being around was possibly the reason I was finding it easier. As much as I loved him and having him around, having something that was just for me meant something special.

I’d just finished a class and was walking across the quad when my phone rang in my bag, Charlie’s ringtone blared out. He’d picked En Vogue’s Whatta Man when we were about thirteen because ‘Trouble, it just describes me perfectly’. I’d just never got around to changing it, and now it always made me smile whenever I heard it.

“Hey, Trouble.” A groan and an eyeroll. “Whatcha doin’?”

“I just finished my classes for the day. I’m going for coffee with Lena. How’s things over there?”

“Yeah, we’re going strong.” There was a lot of indistinct background noise I couldn’t identify behind him, and it was hard to hear him. He hadn’t facetimed, which was strange, but it was probably a flyby call while he was waiting for a scene to be set up, or whatever actors did. I had no clue despite him telling me multiple times.

“That’s great.” As I walked beside Lena who was making kissy faces at me as Charlie and I spoke, I couldn’t help but smile at hearing his voice. It wasn’t the same as having him with me in person, but it was the best we’d have until Christmas break.

“Look, give me five and call me back. I just gotta speak to someone real quick.” Before I could answer, he cut the call.

“Well, that was the quickest call I’ve ever seen you two have.” Lena commented, a small smile on her face.

“He wants me to call him back in five.” It was typical Charlie, start something, then expect me to finish it.

“I swear, you speak to him more than your family.” She wasn’t wrong.

“He’s kind of like my security blanket. He talks me off the edge whenever I’m feeling overwhelmed and stuff. He’s never judged me for the way I overthink, and he’s so easy to be with.”

“I swear, if I didn’t know better, I would think you’re in love with him.”

“I do love him. He’s like the brother I never wanted and often get frustrated with, but I couldn’t imagine my life without him.”

“Uh huh…” She didn’t need to elaborate. She’d been saying the same thing since our first day. She was insistent that there was more to mine and Charlie’s relationship than there was. I was used to her by now and was able to ignore it now. “You better phone him back.” She reminded me as we neared the campus coffee shop. With a smile, I hit call on his contact.

Behind me, the sound of P!nk’s Trouble, my ringtone on Charlie’s phone rang out. Confusion washed over me as Lena started laughing. I spun round to see Charlie leaning up against a tree, a wide smile on his face.

I cut the call and ran over to him, throwing myself at him. As always, he caught me, his arms wrapping around my waist and pulling me in tight against his body.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked when he finally placed my feet back on the ground below me.

“I have the weekend off, so I drove down to see my best girl,” he looked at Lena with a smile, “and you, Trouble.” I punched him in the arm as he pulled my roommate into a hug.

“Remind me why I keep you around?” I asked him as the three of us entered the coffee shop.

“Because you adore this pretty face.” I rolled my eyes as we found a table after making our orders.

“You keep telling yourself that, Gillespie.”

:: ::

For the entire weekend, I showed Charlie around the campus and took him to parties. We got wasted, he enjoyed meeting my friends, but my favorite moment was on the Sunday when it was just the two of us, about a half hour outside of town, walking along a hidden trail.

“Trust you to find this place. I never even knew it was here.”

“You need to take more time for yourself, away from campus. Remember what it’s like to just be.”

“Do you get much of a chance to do that?” I asked as we walked, our arms brushing together the way they always did whenever we spent time together.

“Not as much as I like, but I try to get out at least once a week. It’s not the same though, not without you.” I looked up at him and saw a softness to his face not many people got to see.

“I’ve missed you, you big goof.”

“I’ve missed you too, Trouble.”

“You gotta stop calling me that.” I rolled my eyes, making him laugh and nudge at me with his shoulder.

“Never gonna happen, kiddo.”

“Kiddo? For fuck’s sake, Gillespie. You’re like two months older than me. You’re not exactly drawing your pension just yet.”

“It all counts.” He lifted his wrist and looked at his watch. “I better head back to my car and start heading back. I’ve got an early call in the morning.”

My heart sank at his words. I’d known the entire weekend he couldn’t stay forever and as we turned around to walk back the way we came, I felt a feeling of sadness wash over me.

“Hey, don’t do that.” He scolded me.

“Do what?”

“Fold in on yourself. We’ll both be home for Christmas.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve just enjoyed having your ugly face around.”

“Ugly? You wound me.”

“Whatever.”

Silence fell over us as we continued walking, and the closer we got to the parking lot, the sadder I became at having to say goodbye to him again. He took hold of my hand, interlinking our fingers the way we always did.

Finally, we reached his car and came to a standstill next to it.

“Thank you for coming to see me. I needed this weekend.”

“I’ll always be there when you need me.” I knew he meant it too. He always did.

“I know. It’s one of the main reasons I adore you.” I wrapped my arms around his waist and squeezed him tight. I wasn’t ready to let him go, but knew I had to. Knew I had to carry on with this new chapter of my life that didn’t revolve around our friendship, knew he needed to get back to work and forge his way in his chosen career.

“Love you, Trouble.” He placed a gentle kiss on my forehead before pulling away from our hug and unlocking his car. “Gonna miss you.”

“Gonna miss you more. Let me know when you’re back, so I don’t worry.”

“I promise.”

Lena walked to stand beside me as I watched Charlie climb into his car and pull away. We stood and watched him drive away until I couldn’t see his car anymore.

“That boy is in love with you.” I ignored her as I turned to walk back to our dorm. “Just as much as you are with him.”

:: ::

Christmas break had been crazy. My large family and the Gillespie family always mixed for the holiday, and it was always loud, full of laughter, and more than a little raucous. It was my favorite time of the year.

This year was no different, but it was over all too soon, and I barely saw Charlie. He got back home on Christmas Eve, and had to leave again the day after Christmas Day thanks to reshoots and stuff I didn’t really understand. Most of my time had been spent with his sister, Megan, but there was a hole in my celebrations. A Charlie-sized hole.

He didn’t even make it back home for New Year, and I saw in midnight on the back porch of my parent’s house alone, a glass of champagne untouched next to me. I’d tried facetiming him, but my calls had gone unanswered.

Arriving back at college was a relief, and the holiday period had made me realize I’d become so co-dependent on my best friend, I was holding myself back from living my life.

“Hey bitch, how was Mr. Tallish, dark, and gorgeous?” Lena asked as we both unpacked from our vacations.

“Busy. I hardly saw or spoke to him.” I could hear the bitterness in my own voice and hated it, but I also kind of didn’t care.

“I’m sorry, babe. How about we head out to a ‘welcome back’ party, get dressed up, and break some hearts?”

After thinking about it for a split second, I grinned and agreed.

“Fuck it. Why not?”

Usually, campus parties were casual affairs; sweats and tank tops, but the flyers about this one was emblazoned with the words ‘dress to impress’, so Lena and I went all out.

Walking across campus in my favorite LBD and a pair of amazing stiletto pumps, I felt like I could conquer the world. I’d made an effort with my hair and makeup, and when Lena was ready, we’d taken a shit ton of selfies, posting them on Instagram. It was amazing what getting dressed up did for a girl’s self-esteem.

“Honey, when Charlie sees those photos on insta, he’s gonna be calling you like crazy.”

“Well, it’s a shame my phone is on silent in my purse, then. Tonight is for me and you to have a great time.”

“And maybe try and get over one guy with another?”

“Lena, I don’t need to get over Charlie. He’s my best friend, and I adore him. But that’s all it is.”

As we entered the party – in a frat house, naturally – I couldn’t help but be impressed with how dressed up everyone was. I followed Lena through the crowd into the kitchen where we managed to grab some drinks.

“Yeah, okay. You keep telling yourself that. I can only go by what my eyes show me, and there is more going on between you two than either of you want to admit.” I opened my mouth to say something, but she cut me off. “I’ll shut up now. Let’s go, Momma’s in the mood for dancin’.”

I didn’t see Lena for three days after the party. She’d met some guy and had spent the entire time in his bed. It had been nice to have the room to myself as I caught up with movies and TV shows on Netflix I had missed over the holiday period. By the time classes started back up, she was back and seriously study mode.

“John was asking after you again today.” She told me two weeks back into classes as we walked in the wintery sunshine to get some lunch.

“Oh.” I had no idea who John was, but I was going along with it.

“You don’t remember him, do you?”

“No clue, sorry.”

After gasping, she proceeded to fill me on John. Apparently, I’d danced with him a lot at the frat party. He was six feet tall, well built, but not huge, and had a hint of red hair. None of it was ringing any bells, but seeing as she was sleeping with his roommate, she saw him regularly.

“How can you not remember him? you were all over him.”

“Lena, I’d almost drank my weight in tequila, I would have been impressed if I’d remembered my own name, never mind someone else’s.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket. After tapping on the screen for a couple of minutes, she turned it so I could see.

The guy on screen was gorgeous. Piercing green eyes that reminded me of the forest near my house, and a wide, friendly smile.

“Judging by that reaction, you’d have no problems coming out with us tonight? Nothing heavy, just a few drinks and some food.”

“I wouldn’t be averse to food and drinks.” Laughing at my answer, she linked our arms and steered me into our favorite sandwich bar.

:: ::

The first meeting turned into a first date, then a second, a third, and before I’d even realized, John and I were dating, and it had been three months since that first meeting that I could remember. He was easy going and fun to be around, plus he loved being outside rather than cooped up in a room with another person. Especially when that person was his roommate who was often making out for hours with my roommate. We spent a lot of time on the hidden trail I’d discovered with Charlie, often taking a blanket so we could have a picnic under the lush canopy of trees.

John was a photography major, and never went anywhere without his camera – unless there was going to be alcohol – and my photo wall in my room was soon full of photos of the two of us, of me and Lena, and random things he saw that made him think of me. I had never been tagged in so many photos of me sober on Instagram in my life, and I loved every minute of our time together, but while I was happy, and living my best life there was still something missing. A 5,8” dark haired something.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spoken to Charlie for longer than five minutes, and never mind an actual facetime call. He’d finished up with 2nd Generation and had gone back home for a few weeks. I’d seen photos of him and his family, mostly his cousin Madi, doing the things I would usually be doing with them. Spring break was coming up, and while most of my friends were planning crazy trips down to Florida or Mexico, all I wanted to do was to go home.

“Hey, what are you doing for Spring Break?” I asked John as we lay tangled together in my bed, a sheen of sweat on both of our skin.

“I haven’t made any plans yet, why?”

“Fancy coming to Canada?”

:: ::

Pulling up in the drive outside my parent’s house, I look over at John in the passenger seat. He looked nervous as hell which made me chuckle. I unclipped my belt and leaned over to give him a quick kiss.

“Stop panicking. It’s going to be fine.” I told him. My parents were looking forward to meeting him. “I should be the nervous one. I’ve never brought a guy home before.”

“What? Never? Not even in high school?” I shook my head. “What about your prom date?”

“Me and Charlie went to prom together. We did everything together, and it stopped guys asking me out and stuff. So yeah…” I drifted off, realizing that this was my first relationship, my first boyfriend.

“That’s cool. Come one, let’s get this over with so we can both calm down.” He gave me another kiss before getting out of the car, retrieving our bags from the trunk. By the time I’d got out, he was standing beside me, holding out his hand. I took hold of it and led him to the house.

“Mom, dad? Anyone?” The house was silent when I let us in, John dropping our bags on the floor in the entry. “Hello? Favorite daughter is home for a week.”

“Only daughter you mean.” My younger brother, Tyler came bounding down the stairs, skidding to a stop when he saw John standing next to me.

“Okay, I wasn’t expecting that.” I glared at him. “I mean, I’ve seen photos and shit, but I didn’t expect you to be so big. Nice to meet you, man.” Tyler held out his hand for John to shake, which he did, chuckling at my brother’s lack of brain to mouth filter.

“Ty, where is everyone?”

“Out in the yard. Dad’s cleaning off the barbecue and mom’s making sure he does it right.” I couldn’t help but laugh. Not that I expected it to, but nothing had changed. Tyler took off through the house out into the back yard where my family were waiting.

“Ready for a trial by fire?” I asked John, looking up at him, smiling.

“Best to get it over and done with.”

Turning my whole body so I was fully facing him, I wrapped my arms around his neck and stood on my tiptoes to give him a kiss.

“They’re gonna love you, I promise.” I murmured against his plump lips. He took a deep breath, gave me another quick kiss, and untangle me from him.

“Let’s do this.”

Once again, with our hands linked, I led the way, this time through the house I’d grown up in and out into the large back yard. Which was full of people, not just my family. Of course, the Gillespies were here too.

As John and I came to a stop on the ack porch, I cast my eyes across the space before me, looking for Charlie. It was a mixture of habit and wanting to see him, but I couldn’t find him.

“He’s not here.” Megan had jogged over and pulled me into a hug so she could whisper into my ear. Her words caused a wave of sadness to wash over me. “And we finally get to meet this guy who is all over your insta?” She grinned at John; her smile achingly similar to that of her brother.

“John, this is Megan, the little sister I never wanted, but got stuck with anyway.” As the two of the chatted, the three of us moved down into the garden so I could introduce my boyfriend to everyone.

:: ::

John had been stolen away by my dad, Tyler, and Charlie’s dad, leaving me to spend time with my mom. We sat on her favorite garden seat, watching everyone in silence for a few minutes before she turned to me.

“He’s nice. I can see why you like him so much.” I looked at her, waiting. Eventually, I realized she wasn’t going to say it.

“But? I know there’s a but in there somewhere.”

“No, no but.” She was lying, I could tell by the way her voice was at least an octave higher than usual.

“Mom. You can be honest with me, I’m not gonna bite your head off.”

“I just worry you’re rushing things. At college everything so… intense, and you’re constantly aware of it ending, that you’ll be leaving that part of your life behind you one day. What then?”

“I-we-I…” I didn’t have a coherent answer for her. She wasn’t wrong, but she’d also always told me that college was supposed to be the best time of my life, so why wouldn’t I spend it with someone I not only enjoyed being with, but who I was attracted too at the same time?

“Honey, I’m not trying to make you question things, I just want you to remember who you are and what you want in life.”

“Well, I want to be with John for now. Isn’t that enough?”

“If it is for you, it is for me.” She pulled me in for a hug. I loved my mom, but she’d confused me with our conversation. “You do realize your dad’s going to pitch a fit when he realizes you’re sharing a room.”

I stared at her. I’d assumed my parents would make him sleep in the spare room.

“Wait, what?”

“Sweetheart, neither of us are stupid. We know how things are at college, and as long as you’re being safe, I can’t tell you what to do anymore.”

Before I could say anything, Megan came over to pull me away. Arm in arm, we walked to the end of the garden, away from the house. Well, she led me, I merely went along with it.

“What’s up?” I asked her. Usually, she was a lot like her brother, constantly moving and talking, but now she was quiet and subdued. “Meg, seriously. You’re making me worried.”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to get you on your own so we can talk about that gorgeous hunk you brought home.” Relief flooded through me and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Jesus Christ, you scared me.” We sat down on an old swing my dad had made when I was a kid and talked. She peppered me with questions about college, the guys, the parties, and most of all, about John. She was a senior in high school and couldn’t wait for her own college experience. She’d chosen to stay in Canada to study.

I answered all of her questions, but we were soon interrupted by our being called to finally get some food. I was starving and practically sprinted over to where my dad was piling food on a table laden with salad, fried, and all kinds of family favorites. As I loaded up my plate, John hovered next to me, doing the same.

“Oh, look what the cat dragged in.” Megan’s voice was loud, making me turn my head. Charlie was walking toward us, wearing his hiking gear grinning at us all. I put my plate down and ran at him, our usual greeting.

“Trust you to show when the food’s ready.” I grinned at him as we broke apart and went back to the table to retrieve my plate, pulling it out of Charlie’s reach as he tried to steal a rib. “Get your own, there’s plenty.”

“But we always share, Trouble.” I rolled my eyes.

“Not today, Gillespie. This is all mine, and I may even have seconds.” I stuck my tongue out at him. A throat clearing behind me reminded me John was still with me. “Oh hey, you can finally meet John.”

“Yeah, great to finally meet you, man.” Charlie shook my boyfriend’s hand, his smile still on his face, but I noticed it didn’t completely reach his eyes.

“You too.”

“Well, I’m hungry, catch up later?” As Charlie nodded, I led John away so others could help themselves, over to a table with my parents. Why had that been more awkward than I’d expected? As I sat down, I caught Megan watching me, a strange look on her face.

:: ::

As the sun began to set, and things began to wind down, I decided to take John for a walk around the neighborhood I grew up in. We left the house, hand in hand, and walked along the street, passing Charlie’s house. I averted my eyes from the building, not wanting to make John think my attention wasn’t all on him.

“It’s nice here, very calm.” He commented as we reached the end of the street. “I grew up in the city, and it never got this quiet.” When I looked up at him, he was smiling softly.

“Come on, there��s a great playground just up the road.” I led the way, tugging on his hand as a laugh escaped me.

As we sat on the swings, both of us swaying back and forth as the sun set around us, bathing the sky with a vibrant orange. It was my favorite part of the day, one that made me think back over what had happened and made me realize that a new day was coming, a new chance to experience life. Charlie and I had spent so much time as kids on these very swings at this time, reflecting on choices we’d made throughout the day.

At the thought of my best friend, a slight movement caught my eye. When I looked at the path leading to the gate of the play park, I could see a figure retreating. Despite not being able to see the person’s face, I knew it was him. His shoulders were hunched, and his hands were shoved into the pockets of his shorts. The sound of John’s camera taking photos distracted me and I looked away for a minute. When I looked back, my best friend was nowhere to be seen.

“Stop taking photos of me.” I groaned, knowing he wouldn’t.

“How can I? you’re the most beautiful thing around.” Standing, John walked over to me and took hold of the chains with side of me to still the movement of the swing. He stood between my legs and bent his head and captured my lips in a kiss that started off slow and soft, but soon turned heated.

Letting go of the chains, John managed to lift me off the swing, holding me against him. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and my arms around his neck. Slowly, he began to walk across the playground, only stopping when he reached the large wooden playhouse I’d played in as a kid.

Putting me on my feet and letting go, he removed the camera from around his neck and placed it in a safe place before climbing into the playhouse, removing his shirt and placing it on the wooden boards. When he looked over at me, his green eyes which were usually the color of spring grass were now the color of a lush, dark forest.

“What? Here? Are you trying to soil my childhood memories?”

“Totally, now come here before I have to take matters into my own hands.” He palmed the bulge in his shorts, locking eyes with me. With a laugh that was huskier than I’d ever sounded, I climbed in after him and straddled his thighs.

:: ::

Waking up at the crack of dawn, wrapped in John’s strong arms, in my childhood bedroom should have felt weird. But it didn’t. I was warm and content, but as we had a busy day planned, I couldn’t stay in our little cocoon. We had a camping trip to get ready for.

I crawled out of his arms and dived into the bathroom for a quick shower. By the time I emerged wrapped in a towel, John was sat up in my bed, scrolling on his phone.

“Come on you, we’re going camping. Up and at ‘em.” I was excited. It had been far too long since I’d been down to Fundy and I couldn’t wait to get on the road.

“Babe, it’s not even 6a.m.” He groaned.

“Yeah, and? Come on. Need to fuel up with a good breakfast.” I pulled on some clothes and left the room, skipping down the stairs. ‘My dad had always been an early riser, so it was no surprise to find him in the kitchen holding a steaming cup of coffee as he read a book at the breakfast bar.

“Morning daddy.” I kissed his cheek as I passed him to get to the coffee pot.

“Morning, sweetheart. Sleep well?” I could hear the unasked question behind his actual question.

“Yes, like a log. Stop worrying about me, I’m not a little girl anymore.”

“Don’t I know it. Please, just tell-”

“Dad. Nothing happened last night. And even if it had, I would be careful. I’m not an idiot.”

“Could have fooled me.” Tyler interrupted us, grinning when I gave him the finger.

“Stop picking on your sister. And you,” he looked at me, “put that finger down.”

I laughed as I sipped at my coffee before telling them I was going out to grab the camping gear.

“I’ll go and make sure Charlie and Megan are up and ready.” Tyle put his own cup down and left the kitchen. I froze on the spot I stood in

Shit. I didn’t realize he’d invited them.

“Everything okay?” Dad asked.

“Yeah, just trying to work out what we need.” I lied before flashing him a quick smile. I could hear John coming downstairs. “Please, no interrogation.” I hissed at my dad. He drew a cross over his heart as my boyfriend entered the kitchen, his hair damp from the shower.

“Morning, sir.” He greeted my dad.

“Please, John. Sir was my father. Call me Frank like everyone else.”

After giving John a quick kiss, I went out to the shed to gather up everything we’d need for a couple of days down in Fundy.

An hour later, Tyler and I had expertly packed up the trunk of my car and were just about to climb in when Charlie and Megan pulled up in Charlie’s car.

“Ready to rock and roll?” He called out of his window, a wide grin on his face.

“You know it. Last one there buys lunch.” I called out our usual challenge as I jumped into the driver’s seat, Tyler urging John in as Charlie pulled away with a screech. Within minutes, the doors were closed, the engine started, and we were on our way.

“Is she always this competitive?” John turned to face my brother in the back seat as I turned the radio on, looking for something to sing along to.

“Only with Charlie, so yes. Constantly. They can make a contest out of everything.” I rolled my eyes.

“No I don’t.”

“Sis, I love you, but you do. You and Charlie are a fucking nightmare at times.”

“You’re talking bullshit.” I tried to change the subject, but Tyler was on a roll.

“Remember that time you two tried to eat more popping candy than the other and you ended up barfing all over yourself?”

“Really? You bring that up? I was fifteen, Ty. And I’d drank about a gallon of soda. It was the gas.”

“Whatever. What about the time when you-” I cut him off.

“That’s enough. Babe, did you go camping much growing up?” I looked at John who had gone quiet. He was looking out of the window, and it took me tapping him on the knee to get his attention.

“Nah, not really. I’m a city boy, so we didn’t really do the whole ‘great outdoors’ thing.”

“Not even on vacation?” Tyler asked.

“Nah, we did Disney and Universal, stuff like that.”

“Well, you’re in for a treat. This is our favorite place on Earth and your camera’s gonna get a good workout.” I smiled at him as I intertwined our fingers as I drove.

:: ::

Thanks to my brother have the bladder the size of a pea and three cans of soda, we arrived at our usual camping ground over half an hour after Charlie and Megan. They’d already set up their tent and were waiting for us as if they didn’t have a care in the world, music drifting softly from the stereo in his car.

“Tyler potty breaks, again?” Charlie asked, laughing.

“He travels back with you.” I grumbled as I opened the trunk and began to drag our gear out. Instantly, Charlie was on his feet, unfolding the tents to put them up with Tyler’s help.

“What do you need me to do?” John asked me.

“Take those coolers of food and drinks over to Megan. She’s always in charge of that stuff, makes sure we don’t live off candy and chips.”

I couldn’t help but watch the muscles in his back as he lifted the two coolers out of the trunk. He wasn’t overly muscly, but his form was impressive. I stood back and admired him for a minute.

“Hey, Trouble. Give me a hand with this. Your brother’s still useless.” Charlie called out.

By the time the tents were all up, one for Tyler, and one for me and John, we were all starving.

“Hey, losers. You owe us lunch.” Charlie called out, giving his sister a high five.

“Let me just get changed, and we’ll go.” In the middle of the camping ground was a café that served some of the best food. I ducked into the tent and changed my shirt and jeans for a bikini top and denim shorts. As I emerged from the small space, I pulled one of Charlie’s old cut off shirts over my head. “Right, let’s go and introduce John to poutine.

“What?”

“Oh, man. It’s the best.” Tyler slapped him on the back as he led the way. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Charlie watch as John took hold of my hand.

:: ::

The sun was setting and the five of us were sitting around a campfire. Charlie had his guitar and he and Megan were singing some of their favorite songs. As always, I was blown away by their talent and how well their voices blended together. I’d always been a bit jealous of how musical the Gillespie family was. All of them sang, played instruments, and dance – well Charlie didn’t that well, but he always gave his all when his sister dragged him into it.

John sat next to me, his camera lifted up to his face as he took photo after photo, something he’d been doing all day. He’d told me he’d been blown away by the beauty of the place and that gave me a warm feeling, being able to share one of my favorite places with him.

“Hey, Trouble. Your turn.” Charlie handed me the guitar.

“Not tonight, Gillespie.” I was exhausted and it had been far too long since I’d played or sang. I knew I was never going to sound as good as him and Megan; I rarely did.

“Nope, you’re not getting out of it. Come on, you know you wanna.” He was egging me on, and knew I’d give in eventually.

“Come on, it’s tradition.” Megan joined in with the cajoling as Tyler called out his two cents worth. With a sigh, I took the guitar from Charlie and propped it on my knee.

“Any requests?” I asked.

“Under the Bridge.” The Red Hot Chili Peppers song was one of my favorites and I loved singing it.

“I didn’t know you played.” John sounded surprised.

“Yeah, Charlie taught me a few years ago. It’s been a while though and I’m rusty as hell because I never got my own guitar.” I ran my fingers down the strings before making myself a bit more comfortable. “Hey, you got a spare pick?” I asked Charlie. He reached into the pocket on the front of his soft guitar case before leaning over to hand me the small piece of plastic. I couldn’t help but laugh at the poop emoji design on it. I’d ordered him a bunch of them as part of his birthday present the previous year.

I ran through the song in my mind reminding me of the lyrics and chords before I began to play.

Sometimes I feel like I don't have a partner

Sometimes I feel like my only friend

Is the city I live in, the city of angels

Lonely as I am, together we cry

I drive on her streets 'cause she's my companion

I walk through her hills 'cause she knows who I am

She sees my good deeds and she kisses me windy

Well, I never worry, now that is a lie

As I expected, Charlie joined in on the bridge, harmonizing with me. We’d always sang this song together. It had become a bit of a tradition at gatherings with our families and friends. As always when we sang together, Charlie and I locked eyes, a small smile on his face made me smile back as we sang. There was a connection between us when we sang, one that had been there from the day we became friends.

I don't ever wanna feel

Like I did that day

Take me to the place I love

Take me all the way

I don't ever wanna feel

Like I did that day

Take me to the place I love

Take me all the way

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Finally, the song came to an end and silence filled the air around us. Without saying anything, I handed the guitar and pick back to Charlie without looking at him. I leaned over, picked up my bottle of beer, and drained the last of it. For some reason, a weird feeling had come over me while we’d sung, and I didn’t know how to read it. In the end, I decided to ignore it and escape into my tent.

“I’m tired guys. I’m gonna turn in.” As I faked a yawn, I didn’t bother waiting for a response as I stood up, dropped the bottle in a trash bag, gave John a quick kiss, and crawled into my tent. As I stripped out of my hoodie and sweats and crawled into my sleep bag, Megan stuck her head through the flap.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just tired. It’s been a long day.” It hadn’t really, and she knew it hadn’t. We hadn’t done anything different to what we would normally in Fundy.

“Okay…”

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Sure. Night.” With a small smile she disappeared from the opening of the tent, leaving me to settle down and try to get to sleep.

I was still wide awake when John crawled into the tent an hour or so later. He tried not to make too much noise as he stripped down to his boxers before getting into his own sleeping bag. The lamp hanging from the tent roof was turned on low, just about lighting up the space around us.

“Hey.” I kept my voice low, knowing from experience how the sound travelled at night.

“Hey.” He repeated as I turned to face him, propping myself up on one elbow.

“Have you had a good day?”

“It’s been great. I can see why you guys love it out here.

“Yeah, it’s great. We’re lucky having all this pretty much on our doorstep. I couldn’t imagine not being able to get out here. I bet you got some great shots.”

“I did. I can’t wait to get back and start editing them. Some should work well for school too.”

“Hey,” I dropped my voice even lower. “Wanna join the bags together and… snuggle?” I waggled my eyebrows at him in the dim lighting, making him smile softly.

“Not tonight. I’m so tired after all the hiking and swimming you guys made me do today.” He turned his head to look at me. “That okay?”

“Of course.” I leaned over and kissed him before getting comfortable again against his solid form. This time, I did fall asleep.

:: ::

When I woke up, the light was bright around me, despite being inside the tent. I was also alone. Sitting up, I wiped the sleep from my eyes and crawled out of the tent. John was sitting on his own, a cup of coffee cradled between his hands.

“Morning.” I press a kiss to his cheek as I sit down.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asks, looking at my bare legs. I’m still only in t-shirt I slept in.

“Not at all. It’s not that cold.” I chuckle as I pour myself a coffee. There’s a slight hint of steam in front of my face as I speak.

“It’s freezing, babe.”

“I’m Canadian, remember. This is a gorgeous spring morning.” I lean over and give him another kiss, this time it’s more than a simple and perfunctory peck. John’s hand cups the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair. When we pull apart, I notice he’s breathing a little heavier than he was before and it makes me grin.

“You’re crazy.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet.” Tyler’s voice surprises the both of us. When I turn, he’s standing over us, smirking at me.

“Uh… why am I suddenly nervous?” John asks my brother. They seem to have gotten on really well which pleases me. Tyler tipped me out of my seat before making himself comfortable in my place. Glaring at him, I moved around and sat on John’s lap.

“How are you with heights?” Tyler asks.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

“How do you feel about deep water?”

I knew where this was going, so I decided to go and grab a shower in the shower block. As I ducked into the tent, I heard John exclaim.

“She does what?”

“Yeah, she and Charlie cliff dive.” I turned to look at John and laughed at the look of horror on his face. “It started out as a dare, of course, and now they do it every time we’re here.”

Leaving the two of them talking, I grab my washbag and take a walk over to the block of showers. Thankfully, there isn’t much of a queue and I’m able to snag one pretty quickly. The water’s not exactly hot, which means I don’t dawdle as I wash. Eventually, I emerge fully dressed, a towel wrapped around my hair and almost bump into Charlie.

“Woah, hey. You’re up late.” He commented, steadying me so I wouldn’t fall over.

“Not really.” It was barely 8 a.m., which to Charlie was practically a lie in. “I was up before you.”

“Nope. I was up at sunrise and went for a walk.” I rolled my eyes.

“Of course you were.”

“Are you heading back?”

“Yeah, I want to get ready for the cliffs.” I grinned at him. He fell into step beside me, and we walked back to the tents together.

“Remember that time you pushed me before I was ready, and I belly flopped so hard?”

“Oh my God, you screamed like a little girl who got a pony for her birthday. It was hilarious.”

“It also hurt like a fucking bitch.”

Charlie and I approached our tents, laughing to find John, Tyler, and Megan watching us as if we’d lost our minds.

“Who’s ready for the cliffs?” I asked, wiping the tears of laughter from my eyes. The memory of Charlie screaming lived in my head, rent free, and I couldn’t not laugh about it.

“Uh…” John looked nervous. After throwing my washbag into the tent, I bounced over to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Charlie turn his back and crawl into the tent he shared with his sister.

“No need to be nervous. You don’t have to dive if you don’t want to, just stay near the top, take photos, and enjoy the view. It’s all Megan and Ty do, because they’re both massive chickens.” As I spoke, I looked over at my brother who was flipping me off. “Don’t decide now. See how you feel nearer the time.”

Once we were at the cliffs, Megan spread out a blanket and sat down, a book in her hand. Tyler joined her, scrolling through his phone. John and I stood at the edge of the cliff, looking down into the ocean. We were nowhere near the top, as over the years we’d worked out this was the best place for jumping into the water without it taking an age to get back, but it was high enough to get my blood pumping.

“Yeah… I think I’ll sit this one out.” Moving back, John joined Tyler and Meghan, but remained standing, his camera at the ready. I moved back a little but stayed fairly close to the edge so I could get ready.

“Gillespie?” I called out my challenge as I stripped out of my shorts and tank tops, kicking my sandals off, revealing a mismatched bikini. Behind me, I heard a sharp intake of breath and turned to grin at John, but he had his back to me and was taking photos of the view.

A roar sounded and Charlie ran past me, launching himself off the edge of the cliffs. He ‘battle cry’ could be heard the entire way down until it was broken off by a splash.

With a grin on my face, I followed, dipping myself forward into a dive. I cut through the water, plunging deep before arcing up to break the surface.

“Show off.” Charlie called out as he tread the water.

“Of course. I need to make you look bad at something.” I swam over to him, taking hold of his hand and pulling him back to shore so we could start the climb back to where the others waited. There was a lot of pushing and shoving between the two of us as we made out way, and when we finally reached them, I was out of breath from laughing so much. Charlie’s arm was slung over my shoulder as he struggled to keep himself upright.

“Then you just whipped your top off and jumped.” He was howling with laughter. “That’s why we’ve never given you tequila since.”

I gave him a friendly shove.

“It wasn’t just the tequila, and you know it Gillespie. We hadn’t eaten all day, then you pulled out Jose and it was game over.” He grabbed me around the waits and walked toward the edge, as if he was going to throw me. Admittedly, if he did, it wouldn’t have been the first time. I screamed at him to put me down, hearing my brother and Megan laughing. Eventually, he did as I asked before diving off the edge again, this time executing an almost perfect dive. “Asshole.” I muttered as I grabbed a towel to wrap around my waist.

It wasn’t until I sat down next to him, that I realized John was very quiet and was scrolling through his phone.

:: ::

Arriving back at my house early evening, I was ready for a hot shower and my own bed. Tyler ducked into the house while John and I unloaded the trunk and stored the camping gear back where it belonged. He’d slept for most of the trip back, and I could tell something was bothering him.

After having dinner with my parents, John excused himself to try and get some sleep. It had been a pretty full on couple of days, but not enough to wipe him out. After a few minutes, I decided to go and check on him. I didn’t want him getting sick or something.

When I got to my room, I was surprised to find him packing his stuff into his bag.

“Hey, what’s going on?” He clearly hadn’t expected me to come upstairs and my voice made him jump even though I hadn’t spoken particularly loudly.

“I’m heading back to my dorm.” I moved into my room, closing the door behind me. When I reached up to touch his shoulder, he flinched away from me.

“Woah. Why?”

“Look, I can’t play second best. I really like you, but it’s very clear that your heart lies elsewhere.”

“John, babe. I have no idea what you’re talking about here.” I put my hand on his arm, trying to get him to turn and face me. Eventually he did, sinking onto the edge of my bed.

“Look, we’ve been having fun, right?” I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. “Neither of us expected anything serious, and while I thought I might have been falling for you, the past few days have made me realize you could never feel the same way about me.”

“W-w-what?”

When John looked up at me, meeting my eyes with his gorgeous green ones, there was no sadness in them. There was only what I could describe as an acceptance of some sort. It confused the hell out of me.

“I know you tell everyone he’s your best friend, but it’s obvious to everyone who spends any kind of time with the two of you that you’re both head over heels for the other.”

I couldn’t help it, but I burst out laughing.

“Me and Charlie? No way. You’ve got it all wrong, believe me.”

“See, you say that, and I think on the surface that you believe it, but deep down… I’m a photographer. I literally look at details of the things around me all the time, and there’s no mistaking there’s something going on between the two of you. It’s just taking both of you some time to realize it; although, I think Charlie might be there already. He’s crazy jealous of me.” A snort escaped me before I could stop it. “I’m serious. Whenever we were together the past few days, he either turned his back, walked away, or interrupted us. You may see him as your best friend, but he’s in love with you. And I can’t compete with that.”

Standing back up, John finished packing his stuff, telling me he had a train booked in an hour. Knowing I wasn’t going to change his mind, I offered him a ride to the station, but he refused saying he’d book an uber.

Rather than watch him leave, I went out into the garden and sat on the swing. I’d never had a breakup, so I had nothing to compare it to, but I didn’t feel as sad as I expected to. In the movies, girls lay in their beds for days on end with messy hair and mascara running down their faces until their friends ran an intervention. Yeah, I was sad that John had broken up with me, but it felt like I was losing a friend more than a boyfriend. Even if the reasoning was ludicrous. There was no way on Earth Charlie Gillespie, the guy all the girls wanted, was in love with me. Sure, I knew he loved me – we were best friends, but that was it.

As the sun set around me, I finally made my way inside. I could hear the TV playing in the lounge, but didn’t feel like being pitied by my family, so I made my way up to my bedroom. When I was there, it felt empty without John’s big, solid frame. He’d only been here two days, but he’d made an impression on my space.

Not sure what to do with myself, I sat on my bed, hearing a crinkle. There was an envelope on my pillow.

I’m sorry it ended like this, but you need to know and understand that I don’t hate you – just in case you were wondering. Yeah, I’m upset, but I’m a big boy and I’ll get over it, and when I do, I hope we can still be friends. I honestly love spending time with you, and meeting your family was great.

I know you didn’t believe me when I told you about Charlie, but I hope these prove it to you.

See you soon, John.

Inside the envelopes were a couple of polaroid photos. I’d forgotten he’d brought his along with his big one. We’d all taken turns taking silly shots of one another, shaking them as they developed around the campfire we’d had.

The first was me holding Charlie’s guitar. I was clearly singing, looking at him, but there was something in the way I looked at my best friend. A softness to my face that could only be interpreted as affection – unsurprising, considering how much he meant to me, how much we meant to one another.

The second, was after our first jump at the cliffs. We were walking toward the camera, arms wrapped around one another, laughing. If it was anyone else, I would say it was quite an intimate photo, but it was me and Charlie. We were always like that, always touching, always laughing.

Putting the letter and photos on my desk, I lay back on my bed. I was confused as hell and didn’t know what to think or who to talk to.

As if summoned, my phone began to ring, Lena’s name flashing on the screen. When I answered, she didn’t bother with a greeting.

“So, when are you and pretty boy getting it on?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“John text me, told me what happened, said you might need someone to talk to. He finally saw what I saw.”

“And what did you see?”

“You and Charlie boy. All the feels.”

“Lena, there are no feels. We’re friends, best friends.”

“Honey, I know you’re a bit blind to the fact that that boy is crazy in love with you, probably has been for years, and you…”

“I what?”

“You look at him like he hung the moon. I don’t look at my best friend like that. I know it’s a lot to take in, but think about it, logically. Try to look at your relationship the way an outsider would, then tell me you’re not gonna end up ridiculously happy, living in some gorgeous apartment somewhere, surrounded by gorgeous babies.”

“And what if I come to the realization he’s just my friend?”

“Then I would say you’re blind as fuck. Look, I gotta go, my nanna’s lethal at dominoes, so I gotta make sure she doesn’t cheat. I’ll see you in a few days.” Lena ended the call. I was no clearer on the situation I had been before we’d spoken, but I least I had something to do.

Could everyone be right, and I was wrong? I loved Charlie, adored him, but I wasn’t in love with him. We were friends, the best, and that was all. Wasn’t it? I was pretty sure it was for me.

I needed air. I made my way back downstairs, grabbing my car keys from the side unit and went outside. It was late, but maybe a drive would help. As I unlocked my car, I heard my name being called. Turning, I saw Charlie jogging over to me.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“I just need to clear my head.”

“Where’s the big man.” Something flashed in his eyes as he asked about John. I tried not to read too much into it, but if I didn’t know better, it looked like jealousy. I gave myself a mental slap around the back of the head for projecting John and Lena’s words onto myself.

“He left. Went back to campus. We’re over.” Immediately, Charlie’s arms were wrapped around me and I was pulled in tight against his chest. My senses were overwhelmed by the feel of him, the sound of his heartbeat, and the scent of him. It was too much and I pulled away.

“Are you okay? I know you liked him.”

“Yeah, I’m good. It wasn’t that serious.”

“Serious enough to sleep with him.” An undertone of something I couldn’t work out laced his voice.

“Charles. I wasn’t a virgin when I met John. I may not have had any serious relationships, or relationships in any capacity, but I wasn’t innocent. Just the way you’re not, so don’t pull that bullshit with me.”

Boys at high school may have been wary of Charlie, but he wasn’t around at college when I discovered meaningless one night stands weren’t for me.

“I’m sorry. I just don’t want to see you hurting.”

“I’m not. Maybe I should be more upset, but I can’t fake it.”

“You sound upset.” I looked up at him, stepping back slightly to move closer to my car. “I don’t like it when you’re upset, even when you don’t think you are, like that time when-”

“Look, I’m not here for a trip down memory lane. I want to go for a drive. Talk tomorrow?”

“Sure.” He turned to walk away an I pulled open the driver’s side door. Before I could sink into the seat, I was spun around. Charlie had hold of my wrist in one hand, but it was a gentle hold. He slammed the door and walked toward me. Nerves took over me and I back away from him, my back hitting the car behind me.

When he let go of my wrist, he placed his hands either side of me, resting against the cool metal of my car. Swallowing, I locked eyes with him, feeling very unsure of myself. I opened my mouth to ask him what was happening but didn’t manage the words before he crashed his lips against mine.

Tagging:

@dream-a-little-bigger-x @calamitykaty @crybabyddl @morganayennefertyrell @lovesanimals @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @echocharm17618 @kinda-really-lost @n0wornever @all-in-fangirl @kcd15 @charliesmountains @amazinggracy @happinessinthedarkesttimes @xplrreylo @5sosmukefan

#Mich writes fic #charlie x reader #charlie gillespie fic

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melancholymaz · 4 years ago

Text

Enceinte (3)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Now at 16 weeks in your pregnancy, The avengers have been taking the Uncle and Aunty role with pride, With your nursery being built and painted. But it’s game night and what better way to do that than have the avengers have a sleepover?

Warnings: Sad!Nat turns into Soft!Nat and couldn’t help but end it in domestic!Avengers. Swearing and Bucky and Steve cheating at Uno. Also talks of parents disowning their child.

Y/S/P = Your sexual preference

A/N: Here’s part 3! I am so deeply sorry it’s taken this long! Enjoy!

Deciding to live in the compound while pregnant has been both a blessing and a curse. Unfortunately with your parents having disowned you when you came out as Y/S/P, you didn’t have very many people to tell, besides a few friends and cousins, To which they were ecstatic.

The positives are that Nat doesn’t miss a thing as her and the team have decided to only go on missions unless necessary. So now they can be there for milestones or help if you ever need it. Even Carol has decided to stay until her niece or nephew is born. You and Natasha have both been reading pregnancy and baby books and even Tony had the two of you sleep in a spare room temporarily as him and the team combine your room with the vacant one next door for the baby’s nursery which is now ready to decorate. In about 3 weeks you’ll be having your gender reveal, as you and Nat had agreed you were far too excited to wait to see if your baby was a boy or a girl. Despite it being your first pregnancy, Your 16 week baby bump was very much noticeable, and now you didn’t look like you ate too much the night before, like you did when your bump was first starting to grow.

You’ve been keeping as active as you could, doing mild workouts during the day to keep as fit as you can. You’ve noticed your skin has become a bit more clearer, as the ‘pregnancy glow’ makes it’s mark. Sometimes you’ll have random blood noses, which is normal as Dr Cho had to convince Nat a hundred times, but it didn’t make them any less annoying. Warm baths and back massages had become your best friend as your bump starts to grow, If your back pain is bad now you dread the pain that is to come. You’ll even become dizzy at random points during the day, and it’s handy having the avengers around to easily catch you if you start to sway.

You’ve started wearing maternity clothes, to which Nat loves. Your choice in bras have become different thanks to your ever growing breasts, and she loves finding new ways to take them off as fast as she can. The only thing she loves to pout about is the fact you’ve started sleeping on your left side, as now it’s rare she gets to see your face as you both lay in bed together. That doesn’t stop her from rubbing and talking to the baby every night though.

Finishing up in the gym for the day, you wipe your forehead to rid the sweat and take a swig from your drink bottle, taking a breather before you say goodbye to Steve and Bucky who are both training together. Making your way to Your’s and Nat’s bedroom, you pass Wanda and Carol in the hallway, who asks you how you were feeling and if you needed anything, much to your gratitude.

As you enter your room you immediately notice somethings wrong. You hear a sniffle before a soft cry, and you notice it’s coming from the nursery. A frown settles on your face as you walk in and you can’t help the feeling of your heartbreaking a little. There Nat sit’s in the middle of the empty room crying, staring up at the half finished Winnie the pooh themed wall mural Steve has started, making sure to leave a spot blank to paint the baby’s name when you and Nat have decided on one.

“Babe? What’s the matter?” You ask, slowly coming up behind her, placing your hands on her shoulders, softly peering at her face. Her puffy eyes look up at you and she gives you a small sad smile. “I thought I was the one that was supposed to be emotional.”

“I’m sorry, I just came in here to see the mural but then I couldn’t help but think how surreal all of this is. I mean I never would have thought 2 years ago that you’d be my girlfriend much less pregnant with our first child. I mean all my life I thought I’d never have kids much less a partner. I used to have nothing, and now I’ve got this job... and this, family that couldn’t love us any more.”

“It does seem a bit crazy doesn’t it.” You say softly, lightly massaging her shoulders as she lets a few more tears fall. You know the best thing right now is to just comfort her and let her have her moment.

“I am so incredibly lucky to have the team, and you, and especially our baby. Everything I’ve ever wanted right here and I don’t know how or why I deserve it.”

“To be quite honest with you my love I think we’re the lucky ones. To have someone so loving and forgiving like you is definitely rare. Beans going to have the most protective and playful mama, and I think I can speak for the team when I say there’s no one that could ever replace you. You deserve all of this, The team, the family and most importantly me and our baby.” You tell her honestly, placing her hand on your bump.

“You think so?” She asks with so much uncertainness.

“I know so.” You smile, to which she returns.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” Nat replies, the soft smile on her face as she looks up at you.

“Yeah, multiple times.” You smile. “Now come on, we’re gonna go have a shower and go see the team, It’s game night.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“This game is bullshit!” Sam screams, slamming his uno cards on the table before standing up and kicking his chair. “He’s cheating!! There is no way he can win game 5 times in a row!! He just picked up 4 cards!”

“Stop being a sore loser.” A smug Bucky says, taking joy in his friends rage.

“Stand up and clean out your pockets.” You demand, also annoyed at your friend. Bucky does as you say with a smug smile on his face, pulling his pockets from his shorts and jumper, proving he didn’t cheat. When he sit’s down however, you catch something in the corner of your eye and you shake your head with scoff when Steve subtly high fives Bucky under the table. Nat must have seen it to, because she too shakes her head and speaks up.

“Steven, my lovely captain.” Natasha says albeit too sweetly.

“Yes Nat?” He replies, probably too quickly to come off as nonchalant.

“Would you like to stand up and empty your pockets too?” I finish instead, smiling at the blonde who looks at Bucky then stands and does the same, which ends in him pulling out roughly 10 cards from his sweatpants pocket.

“Are those Bucky’s Cards?” Wanda asks, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“...no?” Steve replies. “They’re mine?”

“Steve is that or is it not Bucky’s cards?” Carol asks this time, her face stern, which you know is making Steve slightly panic. You see Bucky staring at Steve, almost daring him to lag on him.

“Okay fine. Buck and I made a deal that I would help him win because he always loses and he’s sick of Sam and Y/N always winning.” Steve confesses ashamedly, Bucky’s eyes widening in betrayal.

“I KNEW IT!!” Sam yells. Nat just stares dumbfounded, meanwhile Tony, Rhodey and Bruce just watch things unfold shaking their head in disappointment, Wanda and Carol stand up and start packing up the Uno cards as they both know no one will want to play after this. You, however, stare at Bucky with betrayal and hurt.

“You always say you want me to win! This is discrimination against pregnant women.” You joke, to which Nat laughs behind you.

“I think he wanted you to win so the baby will be named after him.” Rhodey inputs.

“Definitely won’t be now.” You say to which Bucky frowns. “Sorry pal lost your chance.”

“What-”

“Yeah because we all know the baby’s gonna be named after me.” Tony interrupts Bucky, pouring himself a drink at the bar.

“Jokes on all of you, we’re not naming the baby after any of you.” Nat replies, smiling matter-of-factly after nearly everyone looks at her offended. “You all suck.”

“Besides me.” Carol says, sticking her hand up.

“No definitely you.” Is Rhodey’s reply, causing Carol to throw the uno cards at him. Everyone begins to move into the common room, deciding to chill before someone picks a movie.

“Speaking of the baby, what’s the update?” Steve walks in, handing Wanda the chip bowl, who thanks him quietly.

“Well, Bean should be starting to hear sounds now hopefully, muscles are getting stronger and should be having coordinated arm and leg movement.” You explain, the team listening attentively.

“And Bean is now the size of an apple!” Natasha quickly adds.

“Seriously can’t wait to be an uncle.” Tony says, scratching his greying goatee. “How are you wanting to do the gender reveal?”

“Well so far it’s just gonna be all of us, Pete, Clint and his family, Fury, Sharon and Maria. Thor too if he’s back in time from Asgard. We’ll get Dr. Cho to put the respective colour in a big balloon and we’ll have like mini games and just have a fun time with all of us.” Nat explains. The team nods, and you can see Tony’s gears in his head rolling, probably just promoted himself the event planner.

“There is to be no one invited without our permission.” You direct to Tony, who just nods.

Just an hour later you and the team have all set up mattresses and blankets all over the common room, deciding to have a sleepover all together. Bruce and Rhodey as an exception as they believe they’re “too old” to have sleepovers. You and Nat set up on the end of all the mattresses, in case need to go toilet during the night. You’re surprised everyone agreed to do it, considering they’re the earths mightiest heroes.

As the end credits of the fourth movie rolls around, you look around to see everyone but you and Nat have fallen asleep. You move back down and start to wiggle around to find a comfortable spot, but end up failing miserably.

“You okay babe?” Nat asks, lightly rubbing your back after you groan for the third time.

“Just can’t seem to get comfortable.” You mumble back, trying to fall asleep.

“Would you like me to go get your new pregnancy pillow?” She asks laying her head on your shoulder, to which you nod softly. Nat gives you a kiss on the cheek before she stands and steps over you to go get your pillow from your shared room. When she comes back a few minutes later, she helps you position yourself and when you finally find a comfortable spot, you can’t help but sigh in relief.

“Thank you my love.” You mumble, already drifting off.

“Go to sleep Malysh, I’ll try to not keep you awake while I say goodnight to Bean.” Nat whispers, already moving down to talk to your bump. You hum in goodnight before you drift off into a deep slumber.

Malysh = Baby

#natasha romanoff x reader #imagine natasha romanoff #black widow #natasharomanoff #natasha x reader #Natasharomanoff x fem!reader #avengers x pregnant!reader #avengers fluff #avengers x reader #avengers x y/n

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