#Green View City Location | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seosracha · 6 days ago

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──── Room 69 , sim jaeyun

⸻ Room Sixty-Nine, where love is made

SYNOPSIS ⸻ As your parents' company fails to outperform others, you find yourself in the midst of a new financial situation and on the search for a new apartment. The roommate you stumble upon has no intentions of getting to know you better and well- you wonder how long it'll take until he fucks you.

PAIRING ⸻ roommate!jake x fem!reader

GENRE ⸻ strangers to lovers, smut

TAGS ⸻ smoking, foul language/cursing, jake is weird and stalkerish?, making out, dom!jake, oral sex (m. receiving), degrading, unprotected sex, creampie

WC ⸻ 7k

⸻ NSFW CONTENT UNDER CUT, MINORS DNI. this is purely fiction made for entertainment purposes only. do not like= don't read.

You were broke. Triple digits that usually decorated your bank account slowly turned into double digits, as you tried to endure the new reality. It was hard to let go of your usual habits, spending money like it had absolutely no value, living a lavish life and going out every Friday. Now, you had to count every penny. Instead of purchasing a basket load of expensive fruit and drinks, you were forced to reach for the cheapest bread and milk in order to survive.

Maybe you were exaggerating. Your parents' company hadn't gone completely bankrupt, yet. The technology department, which brought in the most profit, had endured a sudden decline due to a new company, which had stolen all their clients. Maybe they were exaggerating too, the other four departments running just fine.

Even with that, they had decided it would be best if you gave up your expensive apartment and spending mania. You would live without spending such amounts monthly, but you definitely wouldn't survive without your city view apartment.

Since you were little you dreamt of moving out, and living in one of those high up buildings only the richest could afford. And upon viewing the apartment for the first time it was everything you had imagined. Down to the spruce wood kitchen and bottle green tiles in the bathroom.

But here you were, intensely searching through apartment listings, hoping to find something equally nice for a good price.

You had hoped your best-friend, Minjeong would offer you to move in with her, knowing she had a spare room in her apartment not far away from your own, but her boyfriend's move in had crushed that desire to the ground.

You didn't want to let the thought sink in, but you knew you’d have to get a roommate. You knew that was the only solution for your poor financial situation. Unfortunately for you, any of your friends that were potential roommate material, either lived with their parents still or weren't looking to share a place with anyone.

You had honestly put off the search for a long time, hoping you’d soon get a call from your parents saying they had finally given up on this stupid idea of cutting your monthly budget in half, but it never happened.

One offer caught your attention, the monthly rent wasn't too bad, allowing you to still live comfortably, the deposit was also doable, and the room was just fine.

With a few clicks, a message chain between you and your hopefully new leasing agent had formed. You prayed the offer was still available, slowly warming up to the place, analyzing every detail about the apartment through the numerous pictures attached to the advert.

Soon enough, the generous and kind Mister Choi Jaeyoung had responded with a short confirmation and a list of information regarding his availability and precise location of the complex. You had agreed on a short tour of the apartment, but by now you had already memorized every corner. You’d probably give him a better tour of that place at this point than he could.

“This would be your room” he pointed with his hand, gesturing you to enter the space to look around.

It was even better in real life, the sun shined brightly through the large window, and the closet was bigger than you expected. Obviously, it was nothing compared to your high ceiling bedroom that included a bathroom and medium sized wardrobe, but still it satisfied you enough to sign all the papers your new leasing agent threw at you.

“That room, right there” he said looking up to the closed door “-is your roommate's, Jake’s, room” he said, and you nodded.

“Is he here?” you asked, hoping to meet him.

You wondered why the boy hadn't come out by now in order to introduce himself to you. I mean, you two were going to be living with each other for a long time, it would be nice to at least see what kind of man he was.

“I don't think so. Even if he is, I wouldn't recommend bothering him” he answered, and you tilted your head, confused.

“Why? Don’t tell me he’s like fucked in the head or something” you cursed yourself for the choice of words.

The older man laughed “No, Jake is a nice guy, but I reckon he’s just a little more on the introverted side. He treasures his peace more than anything, let’s say it like that”

“I think I can respect that,” you smiled.

“There was someone here before you, but he was definitely a talkative person, and I guess he didn't like the fact that Jake wasn't,” Jaeyoung added, and you nodded.

“That really isn't a good enough reason to move out” you laughed lightly and so did the man beside you.

You felt a bit uneasy at his words. Was Jake really that bad? Obviously your leasing agent, who was too nice for his own good, wouldn't admit to Jake being a complete lunatic with a fucked up sleep schedule, or something even worse than that. But the place was pretty tidy, it calmed your mind a little bit.

“With that being said, you can move in as soon as you’d like. If you need any help with moving your belongings, I’d be more than happy to help you find a nice moving company. You really can't trust people with your stuff these days” he smiled kindly and you thanked him for the tour.

You guessed you’d have to figure out your mysterious roommate on your own.

_____

It had been a week since you moved in. A whole seven days had passed, and you haven't even seen his face.

You hoped that maybe he’d offer you a helping hand with all the moving boxes, and furniture, but Jake didn't even bother to come out of his room the day of your move in.

You knew he was there. You had passed by his room, hearing a quiet melody coming from his room or an indecipherable chatter. You considered knocking, introducing yourself, but the words of your landlord kept ringing in your ears, keeping you away from that door.

“Isn't he going to like, help us?” Minjeong mumbled, wiping a bead of sweat off her forehead.

She had been helping you move everything in since 9AM, and Jake hadn't even budged. You were debating asking him instead of Minjeong, finally getting a chance to let yourself be known to him, but then again you knew he’d decline, or worse, not give you an answer at all.

“Doesn’t he need to use the toilet? Or eat?” Minjeong asked, sitting down on your bed, the two of you struggled to build. “A real man should have made an initiative to help, and build this furniture” she added, looking around at the still boxed up closet and desk.

Sizing down your living space also meant getting rid of your ridiculously large furniture, that had absolutely no right fitting into this small room. Then again, it was great to use some of the pieces as bribery, you knew Minjeong would never agree to do this for free.

“I don’t care, but it is kinda creepy” you said, sitting down on the chair next to your dresser.

You weren’t alone, but that’s what it felt like. You wondered what he looked like. You had looked him up on Instagram, Tiktok, even Facebook, but none of the profiles under his name matched the information you had about him.

“It is! What if he’s like a 40 year old creep that lurks in these areas of town cause he knows this is where most students live” she inquired, and it made you feel uneasy. The story sounded plausible, and that’s when you felt like going into his room ‘by accident’ just to see him would be the best idea.

“Don’t say that, you’re freaking me out” you said, and she laughed lightly. It was unlikely, to be completely realistic, but you could never truly know until you saw him.

“If he turns out to be weird, you can always stay with me” she reassured, walking over to the mirror.

“And listen to Heeseung getting his dick wet all night long? Yeah, no thank you” you half smiled, and she laughed.

“Better than a 40 year old pervert” she pointed out, and you were forced to agree with the girl.

Minjeong sighed turning to you “I swear I’m going to knock on his door myself if you don’t do it”

You shook your head. You’d rather torture yourself with all the things that were yet to be done, than reach out to Jake.

“You know what my landlord said, he could kill me in my sleep if I bother him” you warned, and she sighed once again, her gaze falling on the numerous boxes.

“I have to leave soon, are you seriously going to do all this by yourself?” she asked, and you nodded with a sad expression on your face “You should ask Jay to help you” she grinned evilly.

You chuckled “We’re not that close”

“Oh c’mon, I’m not telling you to have sex with him on your precious newly built bed, just ask him for a little help. Have you seen his muscles, he can take all these boxes at once” she said, and you hid your face in your hands, smiling “And stop acting like you don’t want him. You can’t hide anything from me”

Jay was hot. Really fucking hot. He was tall, well proportioned with long legs and a muscular torso. He carried himself so well, with a style that was so different, and a captivating face. He was also a well known frat boy and stoner, but you didn’t mind, it wasn’t anything unusual. One of the things Jay liked about you is that you weren’t naive- he knew he wasn’t the only one you were fucking around with, and you knew you weren’t his only girl.

“I can handle it, don’t worry”

Minjeong had left, leaving you alone with all the unmade furniture, unpacked boxes and thoughts regarding your roommate.

What if he truly was a 40 year old, unemployed man who earns all his money from his parents?

Or a discord mod, who has awful posture, and a dent in his head from the constant use of headphones?

But then again, you saw the food in the fridge, he had already cleared up two shelves for you, but his own contained a healthy variety of food, which calmed your mind in some way. The same went for the bathroom, it was clean, all his things were organized, and the products he used seemed to be those a rather younger person would use.

His music taste also contradicted all your suspicions and theories. You noted that he listened to a lot of RnB, and from time to time he’d play some rap or hip hop.

That’s how your first week went by, analyzing every detail, and attempting to listen in on any conversations he’d have, just to finally get an idea of who your secretive roommate was.

On friday you came back from your pilates class, something you refused to give up, crying in front of your parents to let you have at least one thing. They were reluctant, but gave in sooner than you thought they would.

You were extremely spoiled, and there was no point in denying it. You were raised that way, and you found peace in using that as an excuse for your behavior.

Some part of you was expecting to catch Jake in the bathroom or kitchen, hoping you’d finally get to speak to him but the only thing of his that you came home to was a handwritten note with numerous household rules.

It made you laugh. It’s not like he was paying more than you, but still he thought he had any right to boss you around in your own place. And his handwriting- it was awful. No matter how serious you tried to take the note, it felt like you were trying to decipher ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs.

Some of them were reasonable, cleaning up after yourself in the kitchen, keeping the bathroom tidy, and doing your own laundry- all of it was understandable and something you already had been doing.

No smoking was something you could agree to, you didn’t really do it anyways so it didn’t bother you much. The same went for no music after 11PM.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the “no having friends over” point on his long list. It was insane, especially since he had a friend over just two nights ago. You had no idea why you were the only one not allowed to bring friends over, wondering if maybe you had to ‘earn it’, or if it was because you were a girl.

There was absolutely no way you were going to comply with any of these.

_______

On a Tuesday morning you woke up later than usual. The only reason for that was a previous cancellation of your anatomy class.

No matter how spoiled and entitled you felt, you’d never allow yourself to miss class or fail an assignment or exam. Being a model student was something your father engraved in you from a young age, sending you to expensive boarding schools and making sure you get into a good university.

You wondered if Jake had left for class already, or for work. Not like you knew what he was doing in life anyway.

You opened your phone to an excited text message chain from Minjeong who expressed her excitement after a steamy and long night with Heeseung. A small smile surfaced on your face as you texted back her with a simple reply.

You were afraid to leave your room. It was stupid, this was your place and you had every right in the world to go and make yourself fucking breakfast. But the impression Jake made on you was holding you back. You wondered how he managed to avoid you every single time, how you never were able to catch him leaving the bathroom or making a dish in the kitchen. That definitely took a lot of skill and starving on his side.

It was pathetic, the more you thought about it. You were his roomate for fucks sake, not a serial killer who was just waiting to slash his head off. You two didn't have to be friends, you never expected that of him or anyone else you were going to move in with. But a short greeting would be nice.

After a short call with Minjeong who pulled you back to reality, with a stern voice convincing you that Jake probably wasn't in the apartment anyway.

“If you're going to behave like this, you should start looking for a new apartment” Minjeong said, and you thought about it for a second.

Maybe she was right, but the thought of him scared you so much to the point that you would rather starve yourself than leave the room.

The first week you purposely did things to catch him in action, get him to finally talk to you, and that slowly faded into you not even wanting to pass by him in the hallway.

“Fuck Y/n, seriously he’s probably some incel loser who’s afraid to look a woman in the eye” you laughed at her comment, silently agreeing “I can come over and make food with you if that’s going to make you feel safer” she said, and you instantly were reminded of his set of rules and regulations.

“Can’t. He doesn't allow friends over” you answered and she scoffed loudly.

“So you did speak to him?” she said, still in disbelief.

“No, not at all. This stupid prick left a note on my desk when I was out, 30 fucking rules and most of them seemingly only apply to me. He had a friend over just 4 nights ago!” you answered angrily, and she sighed.

“You should move out of there, seriously. If not that, then purposely piss him off until he moves out” she inquired, and it birthed a whole bundle of ideas in your head.

Maybe that was your solution. Purposely pissing him off and going against his crazy rules, forcing him to move out before you were forced to do it.

“That’s a good idea, I like it” you answered, and she cooed excitedly.

“Invite Jay and fuck so loud he’ll be slamming doors” she said, and you were quick to hush her, embarrassed by her ideas.

“I gotta go make a mess in the kitchen then” you remembered one of the early points on the list, bidding her a quick farwell and ending the call.

She had already convinced you that Jake wasn't in the apartment, so you didn't even bother getting dressed, just slightly adjusting your underwear and strapless top.

It really felt like you were living alone most of the time so none of the habits you picked up on while living alone had the chance to vanish.

You slowly open the door with a quiet creek to the floor boards and leave the room, your face in your phone as you checked all the notifications that bundled up overnight.

You weren't expecting your first meeting with Jake to look like this, but there he was in all his glory.

He must've thought the same thing- you shouldn't be here at this hour- a single pair of boxers keeping him away from standing fully nude in front of you.

You didn't even know the man's last name but here you were standing practically naked in front of each other. Maybe you’d be more frightened if he wasn't so fucking hot.

His skin was slightly tanned, shoulders broad with toned forearms. He had a tiny, slutty waist- if you knew he wanted it too you’d probably fuck him right there in that kitchen. His face was even better, big doe eyes and a shaped jawline. His black hair slightly covered his face, but you could still make out all of his features.

All the fears you had completely vanished, a new disgusting arrangement of thoughts taking over your mind as you tried to speak to the man in front of you.

“I’m s-sorry” you quickly said, covering your eyes.

It had only been a couple seconds since your eyes met him in this awkward situation, but it felt like you’ve been staring at him much longer.

He didn't even bother to reply, closing the fridge with a protein drink in hand, he passed by you like you weren't even there. You watched him enter his room and close the door with a thud.

Was this seriously all of it? You had hoped he was just a little shy, waiting for an opportunity to greet you properly whenever you had the chance to pass by each other, but he obviously wasn't interested in getting to know you.

But how could you possibly not want to get to know him when he was so breathtakingly hot. How could you possibly stay sane knowing you're living with a David reincarnate.

You no longer planned on playing the ‘how long until he finally speaks to me’ game, preferring to see how long it’ll take for him to fuck you.

______________

After that day you hadn't seen Jake at all.

You heard him occasionally laugh with his friend who seemingly had the right to come over every day, or rage at a game but that was it. He once again opted to ignore you.

You wondered if he was thinking about you too. You couldn't possibly get him out of your head, spending a little more time in the common rooms, hoping he would finally walk out of his room.

Was he playing hard to get or was he just a fucking sick antisocial weirdo with no interest in real life women at all.

You had spoken to Minjeong, the girl convincing you to do something that’ll rile him up. She had finally persuaded you to invite someone over, specifically Jay, in hopes that it will piss off Jake enough to get him to speak.

“I know him from university, he’s an engineering major” Jay said, taking a hit from the freshly rolled blunt.

The smell of weed spread across the area, and you secretly hoped Jake could feel it seeping in through the cracks of his door.

“What’s he like?” you asked, inhaling the smoke as he held out the blunt for you in his fingers.

He smiled “Fucking weird. Like he doesn't talk or anything, he just hangs out around the same people all the time”

Jay pulled you closer, blowing the smoke into your mouth, and you obeyed, inhaling the rest. He gave you a sly smile, and finally put out what was left of the blunt.

You didn't know what was between you and Jay, but until you get Jake to notice your true intentions towards him or even speak to you, he was a good option

“That checks out” you chuckled, shaking your head “Look at this” you opened your drawer, pulling out the paper your roommate had left you.

You handed it to him, as he read through all the rules. He laughed and with wide eyes kept looking through it.

“Fuck, I need Sunghoon to see this” he laughed, taking a picture of it “Already broke two rules” he smirked and handed the list back to you.

“Not stopping there, trust me” you smiled and put it back in your desk drawer.

He smiled evilly, and pulled you back over to sit on his lap. You complied with a sly smile, and pressed your face against his chest, Jay softly caressing your back.

“You should move far away from this freak, seriously” he says, and you can’t help but hum in agreement.

If you chose to disagree, Jay would start asking too many unnecessary questions you truly had no answer to. You couldn't even tell yourself why after seeing him only once, you wanted the man to dick you down so bad.

“And live on the street? No thank you” you replied, your voice muffled by the material of Jay’s sweater.

He chuckled “You can move in with me”

“The streets sound much better than living with 4 sweaty frat boys in one room” you replied, and he huffed.

“We’re not frat boys, c’mon” you scoffed at his words.

“Stoners, frat boys, fuckboys, whatever, same thing” you count and he just rolls his eyes playfully.

Jay’s delicate touch and sweet voice almost stopped you from hearing Jake’s angry footsteps in the hallway.

The chance had finally come, and you were forced to ignore it.

The sound of his footsteps kept ringing in your ears as Jay told you something about having to leave soon to do a drop. You barely listened to him, wondering what Jake was thinking about, probably already noticing you were not alone.

The vibrating sound of Jay’s phone knocked you out of your trance, forcing you to rise from his embrace, passing him the device.

“Yeah yeah, I’ll be there in a minute. I’m around the area” he replied, and lazily standing up with a stumble to his feet, he stretched and turned to you “Sorry, pretty thing. Gotta go” he gave you a half smile, and you nodded your head, trying to refocus on what’s going on behind your closed door.

You walked him downstairs to the door, and with a chaste kiss to your forehead, he sprinted towards the subway station. You smiled, your eyes chasing his figure until he finally disappeared around the corner.

Opening the door to your apartment once again you hoped that Jake would still be rummaging around the hallways.

And you were right, he fell right into your trap. He was waiting there for you.

“What the fuck was that?” he asked, and his voice was deep. It was a little raspy, probably from the way he’s screaming his lungs out playing games all night.

His face was dark, and figure was lean. He looked a little creepy, his back blocking all the light, his body casting a shadow onto your figure.

You wanted to smile, but decided to keep it cool “No hello, or goodmorning?” you asked, tilting your head with a sly smile.

He looked like he was about to explode, and you liked it more than you thought you would.

“Oh you wanna be like that? I fucking told you, loud and clear, that there were no guests allowed around here. Didn’t get through your head the first time, did it?” he groaned.

“I’ve been here for 2 fucking weeks, and you haven’t even bothered to introduce yourself to me. You can seriously fuck off, and shove those rules up your ass while your at it” you replied, turning your back to him, heading towards your room.

He grabbed your wrist, pushing you to the wall “You listen to me, yeah? So don’t fucking try to invite anyone over again” he said, harshly letting go off you, and without letting you finish, walked back to his room with a slam to his door.

You were left there stunned in the hallway. Although you knew Jake wasn’t normal, you never expected him to be this fucked up.

And you also didn’t expect it to turn you on so much.

_______________

Once again, you haven’t seen Jake around.

He must have been extra cautious to ignore you especially after your previous incident.

You hadn’t even heard him play his usual loud and obnoxious music anymore or him raging at his games. No one has come over since then either. You couldn’t understand why Jay coming over bothered him so much to the point where he changed up his whole routine, choosing to take on a rather silent stance.

But he wasn’t here today.

For the first time in 3 weeks, you were there for his absence in the apartment, and you knew exactly what you wanted to do.

You wanted to finally see what his own space looked like.

Maybe in the slightest way it would help you figure out the type of person he is, maybe you’d find something that’d help you understand why he is the way he is.

You double checked, making sure that psycho wasn’t hiding somewhere, hoping he’d catch you in the act. But when you checked every possible spot, you quietly and slowly opened the door to his room, steadily taking in the space that was unveiled in front of you.

Cream walls, gray curtains, a cheap wooden bed frame, no posters, pictures or plants, you truly expected something more, but there was no personality to the boys room.

In some way that answered a handful of your questions about him; he just had nothing to himself. He was just a simple boy with a fucked up character and greasy keyboard.

His desk was messy, a mixture of textbooks, used up tissues and a half-empty lotion, crumpled up pieces of paper and cables. Yet through the mess you managed to notice a note, your name written in capitals on the top of it.

And well, a scrunched up, stained pair of your light pink, lacy panties. They were abandoned in the middle of all the tissues he disgustingly didn’t get rid of yet.

Just when you thought he couldn’t get weirder, he somehow did.

“There is no fucking way” you whispered to yourself, your mouth parted and eyes wide.

You looked back and forth between the paper and your underwear, eventually grabbing at the note, narrowing your eyes as you began to read the contents.

You skimmed through the bullet points; your full schedule written down on the paper with almost exact numbers as to when you leave and when you come back. These were the things you didn’t even know yourself.

“You think about me a lot don’t you, Jakey” you murmured with an evil grin, not forgetting to snap a picture of it and send it to Minjeong.

You decide to leave the now useless fabric where you found it, also deciding to leave it out of the conversation with your best friend. She had already freaked out over the schedule and if she found out your crazy roommate is also jerking off using your dirty laundry, she wouldn't waste a second moving all your things into her apartment personally.

She replied swiftly, an arrangement of emojis decorating your home screen and a “WHAT THE FUCK, CALL ME ASAP?”. You smiled and put all his things back in place, leaving the horrid space Jake created for himself.

“Hello? Y/n?” Minjeongs voice ringed in your ears as you called the girl.

You decided to spend some time in the living room, waiting for Jake’s return. Your eyes were constantly plastered on the door in the end of the hallway, ears listening in for a turn of the key.

“Yeah, I’m here” you laughed lightly, and that’s when Minjeong got her confirmation to start her full on blowout.

“Move out of there as soon as possible, girl. That man is dangerous, I swear to god” she half screamed, and you just chuckled “You’re laughing? This doesn’t scare you, like at all?” she asked, and you thought about a reasonable reply, cause ‘He’s hot’ was definitely not going to make the cut for your best friend.

“I can’t afford anything else Minjeong, you know that. He doesn’t bother me that much, it’s okay” you said in an attempt to calm the girl down.

“I told you, you can come stay with me” she said calmly, and you let a stray breath out.

“Min you know I love you, but I already told you I do not want to hear you banging Heeseung every other night” you smiled even though she couldn’t see you.

“Personally, I’d rather listen to pornhub recreations than live under the same roof with a potential stalker” she said, and you laughed. At least she knew about her problem.

“He’s not a stalker Min, he’s just weird. That’s all” you replied and she sighed.

“You can’t fix him, Y/n” she said, and you scoffed playfully.

“You can wait and see” you told her and she just hummed.

“Before that happens, you'll be six feet under” she said, and you couldn’t help but laugh at her overprotectiveness

The topic slowly faded when the seriousness turned into playful banter, the two of you discussing random topics and gossiping about every possible person that ever graced your campus.

You didn’t leave the living room, not once, because according to Jake's precious and impressive schedule, you should be out now. Normally that would be true if not for the cancellation of your pilates class. Self-cancellation.

As the keys turning and metal hitting the wooden door sound through the apartment, you hang up without further explanation, quietly running off to your room.

If you stayed in the living room, upon noticing you, he'd practically bolt to his room, locking the door, once again, avoiding you. You were smarter than that.

As soon as you heard him settle down, the sound of your old fridge being opened, and his quiet footsteps pacing around the kitchen, you pulled out your phone, the picture of his note staring back at you. You smile mischievously, phone in hand as you open the door, heading straight towards the kitchen,

He looks slightly taken-aback and you know damn well why. He wasn't expecting you. You shouldn't be here for another 30 minutes- the perfect amount of time for him to shower and make dinner. He had precisely calculated all of this just so he could avoid useless encounters with you.

“What is this?” your voice is taunting as he realizes what's displayed on your screen.

All the blood drained from his face as he realized you entered his room and looked through all his things, possibly even read all the perverted thoughts he had about you that were scattered across his desk in the form of crumpled pieces of paper. He remembers exactly what he took from your dirty laundry basket and how much he enjoyed having the fabric wrapped around his thick shaft.

“You went through my things ?” he asks, voice laced with anger as the reality of the situation comes down on him.

You bark out a laugh, amused by his attempts to shift the blame on you “Oh and my panties, you can keep those. Hope they milk your short dick good” you smirk, leaning against the wall with arms crossed, the look of confidence on your face.

Jake's expression darkens, a cruel grin twisting his lips as he moves closer to you, his face inches away from yours “You think you're so fucking clever, don't you? Going through my things, catching me in a little indiscretion and using it against me. Impressive” his voice is low as he laughs in your face.

One of his hands moves to grip your chin, the look on his face menacing as he forces you to maintain eye contact “You're nothing but an entitled brat. I'm not some fucking pushover and you should know that by now. Weren't those rules enough? You just had to go and invade my privacy to feed your little ego. You knew what you’d find, didn't you?” he stares down at you intensely, his grip on your chin tightening, his thumb slowly brushing over your lower lip, his smile growing as he notices your silence.

“Here's what will happen, okay? You’ll apologize for breaking my rules, send all your guests packing as soon as they show up on this doorstep, and we’ll never have this conversation again. You'll be a good little girl and listen to me from now on” he murmurs, his voice low as he trails his fingers along your jawline.

“You look so hot when you get mad like this, Jakey” he looks caught off guard for a moment, before the low and seductive laugh parts his lips.

“You think so?” he leans in closer, his breath hot on your skin, his voice down to a whisper as he continues “Then maybe we should put that dumb fucking mouth of yours to use and I'll show you just how hot I can get”

A smirk spreads across Jake's face as his hands move down to grope your behind, giving it a firm squeeze, chuckling at your reaction.

He moves to settle down at the edge of the couch, stripping off his shirt, presenting you with the view you’ve missed way more than you thought you did. His chiseled torso glistens under the lights, his belt buckle clinking as he undoes his pants, pushing them down. The fabric falls down to the floor almost instantly.

He watches you intently as you smile up at him, his fingers toying with the waistband of his boxers, his movements slow and tantalizing.

You’re enjoying this and he knows it too, watching from the way you slide down to your knees in front of him.

“I knew you'd like this. Is this what you wanted?” he teases, his gaze never leaving yours as he watches your desperate pleas.

When you nod, he laughs softly, finally pushing down his boxers, freeing his rigid erection “Show me how much you wanted it”

He grips the base of his shaft, giving it a few slow strokes as he watches you, waiting for you to take him into your mouth.

You grin at his heat and hardness, your fingers wrapping around his length. He pulses in your grasp, begging to fill your throat. You lean in, your gaze locked on his, running your tongue from base to tip, savoring the bitter taste of his precum.

You slowly take him into your mouth, your lips stretching as you push his length further down your throat. You bob your head, the determination to bring him pleasure coursing through your veins.

As your wet mouth accommodates his thick cock, a strangled groan escapes his lips “Yeah, fuck, don’t stop”

His fingers thread through your hair, pushing you further down his shaft. He guides you as the sensation of your tongue around his sensitive tip brings him over the edge, his knees weak as he shakes with pleasure.

“Keep going, suck me off good” he moans, his mouth parted as he continues to guide your head down his throbbing cock.

As you pick up speed, your movements harder and faster, he can feel his body begging for release, the orgasm building in his stomach.

He can barely keep his eyes open as he speaks, his voice strained “Fuck, I’m close" his heartbeat quickens "Gonna cum so hard down your throat you’ll never want to go against me again”

His hips buck, as he tries to savor the last moments before his awaited release. With a hoarse cry, he loses himself in the feeling, spilling himself deep into your throat.

His grip on your hair loosens, his eyes rolling back with pleasure “Swallow” he commands, his body shaking as he rides out his climax.

With a contented hum, you comply, lapping up the last drops of his seed, the salty flavour coating your mouth. The rest of his release, mixed with your spit, coats your glistening lips, as you remove yourself off him.

Jake watches you lick your lips before pulling you into a bruising kiss, tasting himself on your tongue. His tongue moves along your mouth, his hands sliding up your shirt, his fingers stroking the smooth skin of your stomach.

“Strip” he says, pulling away, watching you with an evil grin.

As he watches you slowly and teasingly remove your thin shirt and shorts, his hand begins to slowly stroke his cock back to hardness, smearing the ramints of his own release and your saliva along his thick shaft.

He sits down on plush comforters of the couch, tapping his lap for you. His body presses against you as you straddle his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“So pretty” he whispers, locking his eyes on you as he watches you subtly grind your hips on top of him.

He pulls your head back, exposing you bare throat, his lips leaving a trail of bites and bruises on his way down to your collarbone.

A soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel his wet lips on you “I need more”

He smiles at your words “I’ll fuck you so good the only rule you’ll remember is how nice it is when you submit to me”

Jake swiftly moves you down onto the cushions, his body looming over you as his hungry eyes wander over your body. His lips meet yours again, his hardness grinding against your wet core.

He uses your wet slick as a lubricant, his cock sliding against your folds as he hisses at the sensation.

“I fucked myself to the thought of you every night” his voice is rough with barley restrained lust as he notches himself at your entrance “Wanted to bury myself in this little cunt for so long”

With a powerful thrust of his hips, Jake sheathes himself fully inside you, groaning as your tight heat elopes him. You breath out in ecstasy as he fills you completely, your inner walls clenching tightly around his thick length.

Your back arches off the couch, as you hold onto his forearm, your nails digging into his skin “Shit, Jake. So fucking good”

You start rolling your hips, meeting his every stroke, the sound of skin slapping against skin and loud gasps fill the once quiet apartment.

Encouraged by your wanton pleas, his thrusts become erratic, hitting deep and hard. He pounds into you with a wild force, pressing you down in place, taking the pleasure from your willing body.

“That’s right, take it all” he holds onto your hips, slamming you onto his length.

You can’t even bother to reply to his comments, writhing beneath him as he uses your body for his own gratification. Each of his brutal movements sends you further over the edge, his pace almost demonic as your nails dig into his back, leaving red scratches along the surface.

Jake feeling your trembling thighs and the way you clench around him, smiles evilly, slamming into you with precision, grinding his pelvis against your clit.

“Cum on my cock” he speaks, his voice dark “Milk me for all I’m worth”

With a piercing whine, you come undone under his dripping body, the orgasm crashing down on you. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as with heavy pants, you ride out your intense climax.

The feeling of your release and the sound of your name falling breathlessly from your lips, proves too much for him to handle “Gonna cum so fucking deep inside you”

With a low, guttural moan Jake presses himself deep inside you one last time, and finds his own release, pumping his hot, thick cum directly into you.

He finally collapses on top of you, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he comes down from his own, intense orgasm. Jake lies down next to you, your damp body sticking to his, as he threads his fingers through your hair.

“Don’t go through my shit again, Y/n” he whispers, biting down on your earlobe.

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen jake #enhypen scenarios #jake sim imagines #jake sim x reader #jake imagines #jake x reader #jake smut #jake sim smut

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rheya28 · 1 year ago

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Ridgeview Apartment [ Apartment + Gym + Bar] ♥ The Sims 4: Speed Build // CC

➽ Speed Build Video

➽ Rheya's Notes:

An open/closed concept floor plan. Kitchen with all new appliances Bathroom with shower and bath Gym & Bar Panoramic view of the city

➽ Apartment Units:

1st Floor: lobby, Bar and Gym 2nd Floor [Unit 1: 3 Bed, 2 Bath] [Unit 2: 1 Bed, 1 Bath] 3rd Floor [Unit 3: 3 Bed, 2 Bath] [Unit 4: 1 Bed, 1 Bath] 4th Floor [Unit 5: 4 Bed, 3 Bath]

➽ Important Notes:

● Please make sure to turn bb.moveobjects on! ● Please DO NOT reupload or claim as your own. ● Feel free to tag me if you are using it, I love seeing my build in other peoples save file ● Feel free to edit/tweak my builds, but please make sure to credit me as the original creator! ● Thank you to all CC Creators ● Please let me know if there's any problem with the build

➽Lot Details

Lot Name: Ridgeview Apartment Lot type: Apartment Complex w/ gym and bar Lot size: 40x30 Location: Windenburg

➽ MODS

Tool Mod by Twisted Mexi

➽ CC LIST:

Note: I reuse a lot of the same cc in all my builds, specifically cc's from felixandre, HeyHarrie, and Pierisim so if you're interested in downloading past, present, future build from me i suggest getting all their cc sets to make downloading a little easier! other creators include Sooky, Charlypancakes, Sixam, Thecluttercat, Myshunosun, awingedllama, and tuds. This will also ensure that the lots are complete and are not missing any items upon downloading !

Additional notes: You do not need to download all of the cc on the list as I only used 1 or 2 items from some of these set. Some items can be easily be replaced by what you already have!

I would however, download all heyharrie, pierisim, and felixandre sets that are listed as I used alot of their cc in the exterior and interior!

S-imagination : Nota Living Room [ Ceiling light Only]

Around the Sim: Shop sign [Barber sign only]

The Clutter Cat: Busy bee Pt 1 [ Green table Plant only], Dandy Diary [ Concrete coffee table only]

House of Harlix : Bafroom, Baysic, Harluxe, Livin Rum, Orjanic, Kichen

Bbygyal123: Balance Collection [ Yoga mat ]

Felix Andre: Berlin Pt 3 [ Office chair only], Chateau, FLorence, Colonial Pt 3, Grove Pt 4, Kyoto Pt 2, London Interior, Paris Pt 1 2 3, Grove

Charlypancakes: Maple &S Construction Pt 3, Soak

Harrie: Brutalist, Coastal, Klean

Joyce : Forever Autumn [ Curtains only]

Peacemaker: Graciously Georgian, Paige Armchair, Hamptons Hideaway [Ceiling light only]

Pierisim: Coldbrew, Combles, David Apartment, Domaine Du Close, MCM, Oak House, Winter Garden, Woodland Ranch

Charlypancakes x Pierisim: Precious Promises [ Chair only ]

*Ravasheen: Uplifting Elevator [MOD]

Simkoos: Everyday Clutter Add-on

Simplistic: Rustic Rug Trio

Sixam: Hotel Bedroom [ Desk only], Small spaces Laundry room

Syboulette: Fitness

Tuds: Cross

*Zulf: Let's get fit [MOD] -optional-

● DOWNLOAD Tray File and CC list: Patreon Page ● Origin ID: anrheya [previous name: applez] ● Twitter: Rheya28__ ● Tiktok: Rheya28__ ● Youtube: Rheya28__

#ts4 #sims 4 #thesims4 #sims #thesims #showusyourbuilds #sims 4 cc #sims 4 builds #sims 4 screenshots #builds #build #the sims 4 cc build #simblr #the sims 4 for rent

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hwaightme · 12 days ago

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Bung-yeo-ppang

(masterlist)

🐟pairing: bsf!yeosang x gn!reader 🐟genre: fluff, friends to lovers, long distance 🐟summary: during what you think is a simple trip to visit your best friend, some not so simple feelings come to light, but what can you do when the one you adore is just oh so sweet? 🐟wordcount: 3.5k 🐟warnings/tags: unedited, and they were besties, who yearn, but don't want to ruin things so they keep yearning, yeosang is too precious, yeo and reader live in different countries, no specific locations mentioned, bungeoppang appreciation, confessions, eating, food, much love language-ing, one mild curse word 🐟taglist: at the bottom <3 🐟a/n: to the wonderful, beautiful lheo, i love you. the happiest birthday to you, @starrysvn

Have you ever fallen in love?

Sometimes, it could be as simple, but beautiful, as the rays of sunshine that come to rest on thousands of eternal green leaves on a chilly winter day. Other times, it could be as brutal as the freezing, merciless gusts of wind that carry flurries of snow across abandoned city streets. For you, well, for you, you were not sure if you even wanted to dive into those feelings and explore them, but when faced with love in every way, shape and form, you could add to the definition.

Sometimes, love could be unexpected, but at the same time, something you have always subconsciously known, much like the taste of a pastry you have never tried, but could imagine in astonishing detail.

Between countries, between what felt like huge stages in your life, you were caught between a rock and a hard place. Whether it was reality that looked so threatening or the admonishing voice inside your head, a swift escape to something, or rather someone you adored turned out to be not just something you desperately wanted, but also needed. Or at least that was what you had told yourself - no strong feelings, just the comfort of someone who knew better than you knew yourself.

The flight was a blur, the train ride to the hotel, too, was much the same. Of course, your friend was very adamant on you coming to stay with him, but you did not want to impose. After all, out of the two of you it was you who was on vacation, while he still had to commit to the daily grind of waking up at seven in the morning at the latest and tackling commuter hell in the underground tunnels. But that ‘enticing’ picture did not stop your friend from immediately booking a couple of days off, despite your insistence that ‘you would be fine’ and ‘you would find your way’. Apparently, Yeosang could be stubborn when he wanted to be. Not that it was a surprise for you after having known him since you had cried over multiplication and division together.

Had it really been that long? The question plagued you as you regarded the view out of your hotel room - it was a challenge to find a hotel that was not extortionate but still had some visual breathing space, but worth it. You wondered where Yeosang was right now. You had messaged him as soon as you landed, and then again as soon as you arrived at the hotel, but still, nothing. Perhaps it was a sign that what you thought to be polite talk was in fact the reality, and you would be mainly alone.

Jet lag and overall fatigue hit you like a sledgehammer, and you allowed yourself to finally collapse on the bed. While massaging your temples, you pondered whether to brave the freezing outdoors or to laze around this evening and embark upon an adventure tomorrow. Apparently, a certain someone else had the answer ready for you. Incessant vibrations of your phone startled you into semi-wakefulness, and you quickly realised that the dialler was none other than your best friend. In one swipe, you were met with this face, barely visible behind a thick scarf and hat. Clearly, he was outside. His voice was muffled, partially by the clothing and partially by the traffic. But with one flip of the camera, you were met with the facade of your hotel. You did not need to be told what to do.

Foregoing any outerwear, you rushed down the corridor and into one of the many elevators to hurry to the lobby, where you agreed to meet. You spotted him faster than he could spot you, and slowing to a more socially acceptable amble, you stalked towards Yeosang until you could tap his shoulder. You swore if you could see the smile he graced you with upon turning around every day, you would be in an eternal paradise. He was the sun to your moon, the summer to your winter, the calming waves, the freshly fallen snow. It was too easy to construct poetry about him in your mind, but far too challenging to ever let the lines slip, so you resort to giving him a gentle, but meaningful embrace.

“I’m so happy to see you, I missed you-” you whispered, eyes tracing every feature of his face as if you wanted to memorise them all.

“I missed you more, it has been too long,” this voice that you could listen to forever. You sighed. This was your home.

“Shall we go up?”

“Oh! Am I allowed?”

“Why not?” he simply shrugged, happily following you with a smile dancing on his lips. You made a note of the bags that he was diligently carrying with him, wondering if he had done some shopping for himself before going home.

When in the room, you made a beeline for the suitcase to search for presents you had packed for Yeosang: all the snacks he had fallen in love with when he was a kid, and those he missed dearly when he settled into work in the big city halfway across the globe, along with some accessories and trinkets that screamed “Yeo” to you. Once you were done and Yeosang had finished his miniature balancing game of trying to get his large puffer coat to hang on one of the wall hooks and not succumbing to gravity, you cheerfully beckoned him closer, only to be met with the two bags.

“Gift exchange!” you mildly hated yourself for how fast your heart started beating.

Somehow, it only got worse when you and him sat down on the bed to give in-person reviews and impressions, and you had to bear witness to every delighted exclamation, restrain yourself from staring at the sparkles in Yeosang’s eyes as he stumbled upon some hair clips in his favourite red, down to the shade, and had to bite down on your lower lip when he enthusiastically adjusted his hairstyle to accommodate one of them, and immediately launched into the other presents.

His gifts for you looked like a dossier, in all honesty. It was a study of what you adored and what you had expressed your interest in to him over one call or other. You attempted to discreetly place a heart over your chest to make sure that you were still somehow alive. So far so good, but when you spotted a box, and within it, a leather bracelet with intricate metal studs, one of them having a quote from one of your favourite songs engraved, you could not help but whisper out your friend’s name.

“What’s wrong? What’s up? Ah, if that’s not okay with you I can go take it ba-”

“I LOVE IT. HOW DARE YOU. KANG YEOSANG,” you shot back, a hand resting on his shoulder.

His benevolent nonchalance had always astounded you. Clearly, this quality of his never left him, for even now, his demeanour did not change, aside from the redness appearing on the very tips of his ears, and a soft pursing of the lips. And there it was. His laugh. Your music.

“Wel, I am very glad. I’m sorry it isn’t too much, you literally brought life back to me through your gifts I-”

“Again, don’t you- YEO IS THIS A TRAVEL CARD?!”

“...yes, I set it up and topped it up and everything, so you should be okay to travel all the-”

“Yeosang let me just-”

“Hm?” you faltered. What did you want to do? What were you about to say?

“Ah, nothing.”

“Okay,” another quality in Yeosang that you could not help but adore.

You knew that he was fully aware that you were on the verge of spilling a kind of truth that you did not even have a wholehearted awareness of, but in the split second that you changed your mind, he did too. He was not interested in what you were uncomfortable with sharing, and at lightning speed, erased it from his memory. What you did not say to him was not yours to ache over, and not his to pry out of you. Certainly there were moments when he had been insistent and you had your fair share of deep conversations, but Yeosang could strike a magical balance, reassuring you with a soft smile. He was a gift. You looked at him as he opened one of the snacks, feeling the gears turning in your head.

This trip was going to be a lot more than you had anticipated.

Oh you could not be more wrong. If you had anything in mind before, you should have amplified it by infinity, because you were not prepared for what Yeosang had in store. From taking you to historical parks to raiding shop after shop to indulging in the most delicious dishes at family owned restaurants, your day to day was nothing short of spectacular. Every other photo in your camera roll was Yeosang or the two of you together, not that you minded, and your suitcase was rapidly starting to protest against the sheer volume of things that you were adding to your return luggage. What had made you begin believing that this was all a fever dream, however, were the changes that you had observed in your friend.

He was more attentive than you had ever known him to be, more open to initiating conversation and so actively taking the lead to show you around the city he now called his home that you were left breathless. He was in his element, but he was trying his hardest to make this your element too. Your pre-flight demands for yourself to not feel were demolished, and with every step you took by his side you could feel yourself falling deeper and deeper into the chasm that was your infatuation with Yeosang that you could not bear to combat the orchestra-worthy arrangement of premonitions, conclusions and assumptions any longer.

Time flew past. There were still a few days left, yet you were already mourning. Truth be told, you had been in that state upon your arrival, but you had a stronger resolve and the desire to spend your time with value and positivity. Nothing in the world could convince you that you would be happier in the trenches of routine life, and away from whoever Yeosang was to you. In the weeks that you had spent with him, it was harder and harder to figure out the limits and lines. It had been easy in school when you would focus more on your studies and were essentially each other’s free therapists. It was difficult in university when distance separated you, but even then, you had gotten used to it. Or maybe, in hindsight, it was simply a wound that you had put a bandaid on and decided that you could walk through life just fine, and now, seeing Yeosang again, talking to him again, being with him again, opened this wound up to show that it had never healed.

He meant too much to you, to put it simply. Yeosang was too entangled in your soul for you to ever disregard the impact he had made on you and the effect that he continued to have on your life. His every text mattered, every silly reel he would send mattered, even the wildest photos were priceless to you. You cared about the colour of his hair, about whether his company had his favourite lunch on offer today. You felt uneasy when you sensed that something was wrong with him, and you felt like you were on cloud nine when he shared good news with you. For the longest time, you thought that this was normal for friendships, but now when he was holding your hand as he led you through one of the many street markets, it hit you. No, friendship was not enough.

You felt greedy. Yeosang had been in your life for so long and you still wanted more. How could you? The evil thoughts in your brain were yelling at you ceaselessly - you should quit him while you still could, you should let him do what he wanted to do, and that was nothing to do with you. A burden, a burden so big that you did not even even realise it. Yeosang was just too nice to ever tell you all of this. You could feel tears starting to well up in your eyes; with a shaky breath you tried to blink them away before your friend could see them. Your hand started to slip, or maybe it was your busy mind trying to pry you away from him, but much to your dismay, Yeosang only gripped it tighter and urged the two of you on.

He had mentioned that there was a specific stall he wanted the two of you to visit, but the market only opened closer to night time. So, after a lot of stumbling about the city, hopping from neighbourhood to neighbourhood and enjoying local life, he led the way to this bustling haven. You could not help but feel selfish, drowning in your own misery while Yeosang was trying with all his might to share with you what you could see was a piece of his heart. Everything in you ached. You did not want this to end, you did not want to let Yeosang go, but you had to, for everyone’s sake, or at least this was the idea that you had convinced yourself was the only correct path.

“We’re here! Wait a moment, I’ll get a couple for us!” Yeosang let go of you, and with a quick gesture of the hands and a grin, walked to the lady selling what you knew to be bungeoppang. Sweet pastry filled with whatever the heart desired, traditionally with red bean, of course. Of course, Yeosang would bring you to try the one thing you mentioned you never had gotten. You glanced at the night sky.

“So, I got one red bean and one choux-cream, the first one as you probably know is the original, but the cream one is quite tasty too. There are some other flavours, so, if you like these we can get some others too,” he was rambling, but it was far too endearing to ever pause. It was like a beautiful melody that flowed and flowed, soothing you.

“Bung-yeo-ppang.”

“Sorry?” he tilted his head while stretching out his hands, waiting for you to choose which pastry to try first.

“Bung-yeo-ppang, isn’t it?”

It did not take long for Yeosang to erupt in a fit of giggles. You managed to take the red bean bungeoppang out of his hand before he leaned forward slightly in an attempt to compose himself.

“Maybe time for a rebrand, my name is made for it,” he was all smiles, biting into the other pastry and savouring the rich, warm flavour, “delicious as always, what do you think?”

“Fantastic, give me fourteen of them right now,” you joked, but when you noticed Yeosang’s brief rise of the eyebrows and a tentative hand reaching into his pocket to find his wallet, you had to very rapidly track back, “Yeo, I was joking I-”

“Oh do you not like them? I’m sorry,” with full understanding and sincerity he answered you, immediately confused why you started to wave his remarks off.

“No!! I mean about the ‘fourteen’ part… I don’t think I am ready for that kind of an investment yet.”

“Not until I open my own stall, that is,” he answered back, grinning playfully, “you’d visit, right?”

For some reason, this question seemed to carry a lot more weight than what one would expect of an innocent play-pretend. Would you visit him? In general, sometimes, at all? When? Judging by the sudden intensity of his gaze, it was clear that you were not alone in your ruminations.

“I-”

“I know I’m not really… to everyone’s tastes but-” you could see that he was drifting between meaning one thing and another. Your heart hurt deeply. What was he assuming you thought of him?

“Yeo…”

“I- I am just. Happy. Yeah. Happy, like this. I’m sorry I-”

“Me too,” you captured his hand in yours before he could turn away. You saw he was misty-eyed, but chose not to comment, instead emphasising, “I’m always happy with you. And yes, I would visit your stall. Hell, I would live in it,” he smiled at your words, though there was a hint of melancholy that settled in his features.

Your gaze drifted down to your hands - a rather bold move on your part since you rarely ever initiated more personal contact. A touch here, a touch there, sure, but this? This was you listening to yourself for once. Instead of racing away from the sensation, you lightly bit the inside of your cheek and intertwined your fingers with his.

“If anything, it is me who is being very silly right now,” you mumbled, taking another bite of the pastry, noticing it having rapidly cooled down. You couldn’t meet Yeosang’s eyes, nor could you look at your hands, so you just studied the depths of red bean paste, wondering if you could dissolve in it right this second.

“What?”

“I mean… Look at me, a loon who flew across the world to waste your time. How’s that?”

“What are you saying-”

“And for what? I mean, yes, I am having the most amazing time but you must be so tired playing tour guide and working and doing all these other things-”

“You’d do the same for someone you love, right?”

You froze. With a quick tug, you followed Yeosang out of the market towards the side streets where there were noticeably less people. Upon finding a quiet alley, he stopped, and lowered himself a little to find your face. His words were ringing in your head and you were trying to make sense of them. It was agonising to try and decipher whether it was pity or reciprocation, and you barely registered a soft “right?” being repeated to you, this time right next to your ear. Unknowingly, your fingers clasped Yeosang’s hand tighter, and he stepped closer towards you.

“It’s okay,” you knew exactly why he was saying this. Again, caring, gentle Yeosang, precious soul. He was giving you a way out. One that you were not going to take, not this time, not ever.

“I would.”

“Hm?”

“I would do the same. I’m sorry. I sounded so damn ungrateful it is-”

“I understand, really, I do and-”

“I am horribly in love with you, Kang Yeosang.”

You took in his expression. His mahogany eyes that you could bet contained flecks of gold and sunshine. His rosy lips that were parted ever so slightly. His hair, now a cherry red that you had helped him dye it to peeking out from under a black, fluffy bucket hat. Your heart was on the table, along with the many years that you had spent with and thinking about your friend, and the many years in the future that you were either going to cherish, or curse, or spend comfortably numb in the absence of the one who would always have your heart.

“I hope it’s not too horrible, because loving you, for me, is magical, and very sweet,” you blinked once, twice before asking:

“Huh? Since when-”

“Hm… university, give or take? I think? Maybe earlier. Either way I kind of accepted that whatever happens I would love you anyways. So…”

“So… uhm, shall we try? I don’t know… I mean I am leaving in a few days and the distance is-”

“Since when did that stop us? Besides, we can figure things out as we go. That is what we have always done. Main thing is to not hide things. Isn’t that what you tell me all the time?” You nodded. Indeed, after a few too many occasions when Yeosang had not shared his troubles with you or denied your help, you had made it a point to check in on him, and this habit had never stopped even with many countries separating you.

As you glanced at one another and, with a timid “may I?” you closed the space between the two of you, you realised that, no matter the filling, no matter the sugar content, no matter what, nothing could ever be as sweet as him. You really would travel all those miles again and again even if just for one single moment like this, knowing that he would always do the same for you - your favourite, your only, yours truly, Yeosang.

🐟pairing: @charreddonuts @preciouswoozi @my-loves-my-life @http-gyu @hongjoongs-patience @jaehunnyy @wooyoungjpg @yeonjunnie @ren-junwrld @asjkdk

enjoyed? i would love to hear from you, it means the universe to me. thank you.

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makeitmakesomesense · 1 day ago

Text

A Long Time Coming

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: This is from a heinous prompt from a heinous friend. It is silliness and then it is smut. It also uses a lovely prompt from @taylorswiftmicrofic for the 9th of January, which is 'jokes'.

Sometimes, when you were caught in a moment alone with Natasha, there was this spark.

Her tongue touching her teeth when she smiled her brightest. Her shoulder bumping yours in elevators. Her dry jokes as you made it through the hardest days.

There were other times too. Crumpled in the kitchen when the darkness got too much. Your hand at the small of her back. Her chin resting on your own shoulder as you gazed out at a world that would never be the same.

There was a spark. If you were honest, there were embers now. A gentle flickering in your lower stomach. A heat that burned gently.

A wanting.

It wasn’t on the table, not for either of you. Maybe five years ago, maybe before everything had fallen apart. Now your lives were about solving the world’s problems not your own.

Natasha was the bravest person in the world. She was efficient too. You’d barely wrapped your head around the possibility of time travel before Natasha had organised the task force to achieve it.

She was the bravest person in the world. That’s why no-one blinked when she volunteered first to save it.

She dressed in the futuristic white suit and stood in the designated place. She glanced at the others and then at you. Her tongue touched her teeth when she smiled wide, she gave you a thumbs up.

The complex machinery, that filled the room, hummed and sputtered.

And, then, Natasha disappeared.

The fallout took its time to be alarming.

The lights in the room flickered uncertainly for a few moments. You waited, trying not to think about Natasha being so far away, so out of time. You waited for Dr. Banner to press the button that would bring her back.

He pressed it at last. And then you watched his brow crease in confusion. He pressed it again. And again.

You started hyperventilating when it became clear.

So far away. So out of time.

Natasha was smaller than people realised. More fragile too.

Dr. Banner and Steve Rogers debated the technicalities of the situation for over an hour.

You paced the room, caught up with a need to search the world for someone you wouldn’t find.

Eventually, you heard them coming to a conclusion. It was her suit. The wires that crossed at the front of the chest, there must have been a fault.

You weren’t as brave as Natasha, you weren’t as efficient either. Still, you did your best. It took another hour for you to be suited up and ready for the hopefully simple mission. They were careful not to change any setting on the machine.

Theoretically Natasha had been sent back a decade to New York City. Theoretically that’s where you should be going too.

You were given a quick tutorial on removing the chest-plate from the suit and resetting the wires. If everything went to plan, it would be a simple rescue.

You didn’t bother pretending that it might be.

You stood in the centre of the room and listened to the machine begin to whir and hum. You closed your eyes and opened them somewhere new.

Green.

Your first and only thought as the colour overwhelmed you.

So much green.

Foliage like you’d never seen before. A sea of large fern plants that towered above you.

Definitely not New York City. You spun in a circle as you tried to assess your location. Maybe the rainforest? But surely the rainforest would have more rain and more forest?

Your eyes quickly scanned the landscape, a view of rolling hills that were covered in the strange vegetation that you could not place.

You heard a sudden noise to your left and startled.

Natasha Romanoff was barreling towards you. Dirt spattered her face. Her eyes were wide with uncharacteristic panic. Her bare arms were littered with scratches.

You blinked.

Her bare arms.

She wasn’t wearing her suit. She was barely wearing anything. Your throat tightened as you registered her sports bra and shorts. You didn’t have time to think before Natasha’s hands were gripping your arms.

Her heavy panting filled your ears as she leaned in.

‘Run.’ She said. ‘We have to run.’

You didn’t hesitate. Natasha’s grip on your hand was iron tight as she dragged you lithely through the undergrowth. You did everything you could to keep up and not fall over.

After a few minutes, Natasha finally slowed her pace. Her head swivelled around, ascertaining the safety of your new location.

Abruptly, she exhaled in relief. Then, she turned back to you and wrapped you in the tightest hug.

‘I’m so glad to see you.’ She muttered breathlessly against your shoulder.

You hugged her back, half relieved and half panicked.

‘Natasha.’ You started unsurely. ‘Where the hell are we? When are we?’

Natasha pulled back and held your face between her hands. You stared into her eyes, realising suddenly that her pupils were extremely dilated.

‘I don’t know how to tell you this.’ She said thoughtfully.

You braced your shoulders.

‘Just tell me. Get it over with.’

Natasha took your head and swivelled in 90 degrees. You stared in the direction she'd pointed you towards. You scanned the horizon and tried to understand what you were missing. Your heart leapt in horrible realisation. A giant tree, relatively far away. The tree seemed to be eating its own leaves. You blinked and tried to make sense of it. The tree moved slowly forwards.

Dinosaur.

Your mouth fell open in an ‘O’ shape.

You glanced back at Natasha. She was staring at your open mouth and wearing an expression you'd never seen before. You closed your mouth self consciously.

‘Oh my God.’ You choked out. ‘Oh my God.’

Natasha’s fingers dug slightly into your scalp.

‘I know.’ She breathed, her stare still intent on your lips. You stared at her in confusion. Her breathing was becoming rapid and shallow.

‘Natasha.’ You tried, wondering what kind of trauma could have occurred to make her this distracted. Her gaze glanced back to you. She chewed her lower lip and gave you a small smile.

‘Yeah?’

‘Where’s your suit?’ You asked slowly, feeling increasingly alarmed.

Natasha released your face as she waved her hand thoughtlessly in the air. Her cheeks were still flushed, even though you'd been standing still for several minutes.

‘Back where I landed.’

She gestured vaguely to her right.

‘Just next to the swamp.’ She paused with obvious disorientation then recollected her train of thought. She frowned. ‘It got all sticky.’

‘The suit?’ You checked, keeping your questions as simple as possible. ‘It got sticky from the swamp?’

Natasha shook her head. ‘No. It got sticky from this huge plant.’ Her hands echoed her words with a large gesture into the air.

‘Can you take me there?’ You prompted gently, holding her hand carefully in yours.

Natasha’s stare focused intensely on your joined hands. You squeezed her hand and asked the question again. Natasha’s eyes dragged themselves slowly up your body to meet your stare.

‘Yes.’ She said breathlessly, her thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand. ‘But it makes me crazy.’

‘What does?’

‘The sticky stuff.’ She swallowed dryly. ‘That’s why I took it off.’

‘Crazy, like dizzy?’

Natasha nodded, a sudden look of panic in her eyes. ‘Yes.’ She lied badly. ‘Kind of.’

‘Kind of.’ You prompted gently, giving her hand another squeeze.

Natasha’s eyes darted wildly from your hands to your face, to your…chest.

‘Horny.’ She said breathlessly. ‘Kind of horny.’

Your mouth dropped into an ‘O’ again, and Natasha crossed her legs uncomfortably. She closed her eyes and took an unsteady breath. You promptly shut your mouth.

‘That must be… distracting.’

Natasha nodded slowly, and her eyes reopened with an obvious kind of longing in them.

You resolved to be decisive. To be professional. This was a mission. You tried to ignore the low burning heat that already lived in your stomach.

‘Well, we need you in the suit to get home.’ You told her seriously. ‘So let’s find it as fast as possible, and try to limit our exposure to whatever that sticky stuff is.’

Natasha nodded again, lips pressed tightly together. Her jaw ticked as her eyes wandered distractedly over your body again.

There was a concerningly loud crash in the distance.

‘Oh.’ Natasha murmured absentmindedly. ‘That’ll be the dinosaurs.’

Her free hand moved to your waist and you felt her nails dig into the firm fabric of the suit. Trying to tug you closer her.

You shook your head wordlessly and started leading her in the direction of the swamp and her missing suit.

Natasha walked obediently just behind you. You turned occasionally to check if you were still heading in the right direction. Every time she nodded, her stare never wavering from your ass.

You forced yourself to keep walking. You had to be the professional.

You noticed the foliage around you darken slightly, a sign of the nearby water source. You tried to keep your focus on the mission. On the very obvious and very real danger that you found yourself in.

You paused to determine your next path. Natasha's hands covered your ass and you pretended not to feel the light squeeze.

As you got closer to the swamp, Natasha started walking faster so she could be next to you. Her arm snaked around your waist again. You could feel the warmth radiating out from her. You could see it in her flushed cheeks. Every time you looked over at her, Natasha flushed harder.

Sometimes, you felt her hand wander downwards along your body. Carefully, you moved it back to your waist.

Eventually you came to a clearing. There were obvious signs that someone had been here before. Natasha’s eyes widened in recognition. After a moment, she pointed to the far corner of the clearing. There, you saw the previously-white suit discarded on top of a small boulder.

You swallowed nervously.

‘The suit needs a repair.’ You told Natasha shortly, her arm still eagerly around you. ‘I’m going to fix it before you put it on.’

You tried to let go of Natasha as you walked over to the suit. But she clung determinedly on. You didn’t bother fighting it, aware now that the best thing to do was get you both home as fast as possible.

When you reached the suit, you saw it was indeed coated in a sticky golden substance. You crouched down and grabbed a nearby twig, using it to scrape away most of the viscous liquid.

Then, you kept your focus steady, barely letting yourself breathe as you popped out the covering and repeated the repair instructions you’d been given by Dr. Banner. You tried not to worry about the stickiness that brushed against your fingertips.

You were putting the panel covering back onto the suit when it started.

An itching sensation across your body. An itching that soon became something else. A burning. Like a thousand sparks against your skin. Fireworks. You were burning. Wanting.

You were wanting.

Her.

You felt yourself shuddering. A sudden dryness in your throat as you tried to swallow. A sudden desperation. A cluttered mind.

‘Oh no.’ Natasha mumbled somewhere above you. 'Are you okay?'

You started panting. You couldn't remember words. All you could do was tug at her hand. The wanting was blinding.

Natasha crouched next to you. Your heart started pounding immediately.

You could feel the sparking electricity from her proximity. As if she was lightning and you were the perfect conductor.

‘Natasha.’ You murmured at last. You heard the obvious neediness in your voice. The wanting.

Natasha smiled widely as she took you in.

‘Oh, good.’ She half-moaned as she moved closer, filling up your vision and your world. You felt her hands tangling forcefully in your hair. You toppled backwards against the forest floor.

Somewhere deep down in the back of your mind, you wondered what kind of insects lived in the mud next to a Jurassic swamp.

Then, Natasha’s tongue ran along your neck and you forgot your own name. Her lips were on you eagerly. Her mouth was kissing and biting as she made her way to your mouth.

Natasha straddled your waist as her tongue entered your mouth. The kiss was long and slow. Then she pulled back, her arms reached over her head as she removed her sports bra hurriedly. You could feel her hips moving, as she tried to press herself against your body.

Automatically, your hand found its way between her legs.

Natasha groaned loudly as she enjoyed the immediate friction of your palm. She leaned forward, her arms resting on either side of you.

Your vision filled now with her breasts. They were bouncing as she moved. A heavy softness that made you tilt forward. Your tongue found her nipple, swirling eagerly over the sensitive area.

You felt the wetness through the fabric of her shorts. Your hand slipped under the material. She was soaking wet, coating your palm immediately.

You understood suddenly. Why she loathed her suit. Why she'd ripped it off. You felt your own hips buck desperately, hopelessly. You paused, trying to remember the way to take off the complicated garment.

Natasha’s hand tugged forcefully at your hair. Your attention flew back to her.

Her eyes shuttered closed with the nearness of her orgasm. Her hips bucked desperately against your bare hand.

‘No.’ She moaned selfishly, biting down hard on her lower lip as she continued to rock. ‘You can come later. Let me finish first.’

You obliged easily. Her breasts pressed themselves closer again and your attention returned to them. You kissed and licked and sucked. The heel of your hand pressed against her clit over and over. Your fingers moved inside her with the rocking of her hips.

Natasha cried out loudly when she came at last. Her eyes were squeezed themselves even more tightly shut.

You startled at the sudden sound, as reality crept briefly back. Then you laughed.

‘I thought that was a T-Rex.’ You told her stupidly.

Natasha smiled happily down at you. Her tongue touched her teeth. Her once braided hair was completely wild. Her breathing was shallow. Her body relaxed.

Her eyes were no longer dilated.

‘Mmm.’ She hummed in pleased thought, her hand trailing down your suit. ‘We should go somewhere with a bed. So we can do that again.’

Natasha was no longer the bravest person in the world.

You were.

You waited 97 million years for an orgasm.

Requests are still very welcome for future January fics. More info in the pinned post if you're interested in requesting. <3

#natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow smut #black widow x reader

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vestaignis · 5 months ago

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Черный пляж Фаускасандур расположен на южном побережье Исландии, недалеко от небольшого городка Вик-и-Мюрдал. Этот регион характеризуется суровым вулканическим ландшафтом, который является результатом миллионов лет геологической деятельности. До пляжа можно добраться по национальной дороге № 1, известной как Хрингвегур, которая проходит вокруг всей Исландии, соединяя самые важные города и туристические достопримечательности.

Регион, в котором расположен Фаускасандур, отличается исключительным ландшафтным разнообразием. Рядом с пляжем расположены величественные скалы, вулканические скальные образования и многочисленные пещеры. Одной из самых впечатляющих особенностей ландшафта является гора Рейнисфьялль, которая возвышается над пляжем, откуда открывается захватывающий вид на океан и окрестности.

Черный песок пляжа состоит из измельченного базальта, образовавшегося в результате извержений вулканов. Базальтовый песок чрезвычайно мелкий и мягкий, благодаря чему пляж кажется почти сюрреалистическим. Рядом с пляжем можно увидеть впечатляющие базальтовые колонны Рейнисдрангар, которые по легенде являются окаменевшими троллями. Пляж Фаускасандур так же примечателен своим черным песком и огромным монолитом, возвышающимся над его берегом. Почти прямоугольная гигантская скала выглядела неуместно, выступая как недостающая часть окружающих горных оснований. С ее вершиной, покрытой зеленой листвой, которая сползает по скалистым склонам, это естественное скальное образование добавляет уникальный элемент темной береговой линии.Также стоит упомянуть поразительный контраст между белыми изломами в волнах и черным песком.

В целом, уникальный вид Фаускасандура делает его особенно идеальным местом для фотографов. Фаускасандур можно посещать круглый год. Летом, когда погода хорошая, а световой день достигает своей максимальной длины, посетители могут наслаждаться долгими прогулками по песчаному берегу, наблюдая за волнами, разбивающимися о темный песок под полуночным солнцем в течение 20 часов в день. Так же в теплый сезон окрестности становятся зеленее и ярче, а зима подчеркивает завораживающий контраст между белым снегом и черным песком.

The black beach of Fauskasandur is located on the south coast of Iceland, near the small town of Vik y Myrdal. This region is characterized by a rugged volcanic landscape, which is the result of millions of years of geological activity. The beach can be reached via National Road 1, known as Hringvegur, which runs around the entire country of Iceland, connecting the most important cities and tourist attractions.

The region in which Fauskasandur is located has an exceptional landscape diversity. Near the beach there are majestic cliffs, volcanic rock formations and numerous caves. One of the most impressive features of the landscape is the mountain Reynisfjall, which rises above the beach, offering breathtaking views of the ocean and the surrounding area.

The black sand of the beach consists of crushed basalt, formed by volcanic eruptions. Basalt sand is extremely fine and soft, making the beach seem almost surreal. Near the beach, you can see the impressive basalt columns of Reynisdrangar, which according to legend are petrified trolls. Fauskasandur beach is also notable for its black sand and the huge monolith that towers over its shore. The almost rectangular giant rock looked out of place, protruding as a missing part of the surrounding mountain bases. With its top covered in green foliage that creeps down the rocky slopes, this natural rock formation adds a unique element to the dark coastline. Also worth mentioning is the striking contrast between the white breaks in the waves and the black sand.

Overall, Fauskasandur's unique appearance makes it an especially ideal place for photographers. Fauskasandur can be visited all year round. In the summer, when the weather is fine and the daylight hours are at their longest, visitors can enjoy long walks along the sandy shore, watching the waves crash against the dark sand under the midnight sun for 20 hours a day. Also, during the warm season, the surroundings become greener and brighter, and winter highlights the mesmerizing contrast between the white snow and black sand.

Источник://t.me/divo_planeta,/guidetoiceland.is/travel-iceland /drive /fauskasandur-black-sand-beach,/park4night.com/en/place/111259, //sophiecarr.blogspot.com/2018/04/iceland-14-day-7-from-wonderful. html,/www.hatlastravel.com/destination/Iceland/?category=Highland &place=Fauskasandur#pictures,/sandee.com/iceland/east-region/ starmyri/fauskasandur,/ru.gancarczyk.com/Черная-площадь-Фаускасандур-доступ-автостоянка-достопримечательности/, /www.irishroots.pl/czarna-plaza-fauskasandur.htm , /35photo.pro / tags/fauskasandur/.

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certainlynotasimp · 2 years ago

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oh just a little tip, i think it would be wise if you added the spanish translations somewhere inside the fics, this could be at the end or next to the spanish sentence, since you can’t copy text from posts it’s hard to translate since you have to type everything in google translate by hand <33 anyways i loved your fic, you’re very talented and i can’t wait to see more of miguel and his beloved sunshine.

you know what might be funny? if they were on a mission and got hit with a gas that switches their personalities🤣 now that would be something i would pay to see 😂

From Your Point of View

((Miguel O’ Hara x Female! Reader))

A/N: Hello~✨ Thank you so much for the request and the critique. I have now added some translations at the bottom of the fanfics because I forgot how weird tumblr can be about copy and pasting stuff😅. Also I hope that I didn’t disappoint with this as I was kinda struggling on what to write for this one.

-Still haven’t seen the movie so be warned I may get some stuff wrong-

Warnings: Grumpy x Sunshine, Female Reader/Female Pronouns, Barely using (Y/N) ((Sunny is their nickname not their name)), bioweapons, kinda graphic injuries, Outta Character and Outta pocket behavior, and Google Translated Spanish. ((Thank you @22carolina08 for reviewing it before I posted it))

~~~~~~~~~~~

The cackle of women enjoying the fruits of their labors filled the corridor of the abandoned warehouse as they surrounded the machine they were working on. It was a tall glass sphere with some kind of purple dust floating around inside while two titanium computers stood on either side of the device.

The three women standing around it were a set of Green Goblins who jumped from different dimensions to find a universe where there wasn’t an arachnid hero to stop them from using a bomb to take control of the city.

However they didn’t expect there to be four spidermen to be observing them around the property with one little spider hiding along the walls of their lair.

“Lyla,” Miguel whispers as he observes the meeting from the top of another warehouse. “Analyze the contents of that bomb and tell me how bad it is.”

The yellow AI materializes in front of him as Miguel tries to swat her away like a fly, not wanting her to compromise his location. Lyla rolls her eyes and explains, “The dust in that little bomb they have is made from spores of this rare mushroom. It’s been reported that inhaling the spores can cause drastic changes in behavior, mood swings, and mild hallucinations. Most cases detail paitents becoming aggressive and violent.”

Jessica’s voice buzzes through the intercom as she quips, “So they are planning on driving the city into a state of panic?”

“Sounds like it.” Ben Riley gruffs in annoyance. Miguel couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he knows the Scarlet Spider was still pissed that he couldn’t go ahead and stop the goblins.

“Sounds like a party to me, mate.” Hobie cracks as he watches from the ground. “Oi, Sunny, Dear? Wanna crash their party?”

“Yes, a party of people violently hurting each other and causing mass chaos does sound like fun.” Miguel grumbles saracastially before scolding Hobie. “She can’t reply to you, Brown. Not when she’s undercover.”

Miguel can barely make out her outline with the infared of his mask lens, but he can see his little jumping spider wander among the goblins unseen.

A big advantage to have someone with his beloved’s powers. She had almost every trait of the typical spider men, but she had a unique camouflaged ability. Without the suit Miguel made her, she can lower her heart rate and rapidly chill her body temperature so she can remain undetected by infared. She can also go invisible for a few moments without the suit, but both abilities are limited due to how strenuous it was on her being.

The suit allows her to remain undetected for a much longer time and prevents her from putting too much strain on her body. The slight heat the suit emits to keep her body functioning is the only thing that Miguel can use to track her. A major drawback of her gift is that physically she’s not as strong as the others, but she can handle herself in a fight.

Of course, he’s always there to help her. Her protective predator and his gentle prey. A match made in heaven as Jess always jokes.

“(L/N).” Miguel whispers into the com as he watches his love sneak around the device. “Attach the bug I gave you to the main computer so Lyla can deactivate the bomb.”

He makes a signal to the others to tell them to be ready for the ambush. The plan was suppose to be a simple get in and out. The invisible web shooter would get the bomb deactivated while Miguel, Hobie, and Ben rush in and take out the goblins. Jess served as support in case the villains ran past them. It was suppose to be an easy mission. Until it wasn’t.

As the bomb got deactivated, a light beep from the monitor causes the Goblins to turn around and notice that someone tampered with their bomb. Before the little spider could escape, one of the Goblins throws a jack o lantern explosive at her, causing the glass vial to exploded.

Miguel’s blood ran cold as he witnesses his love engulfed in black and purple smoke, and all reason went out the window as he rushed into the contaminated warehouse to save her.

“Miguel, wait!” Jessica screams out she drives her bike in front of the other two spidermen trying to rush in.

“What gives, Drew?” Hobie snaps, concern burning in his eyes. “We gotta get in there.”

“Not without these.” She snaps back as she hands the boys four sets of gas masks. “Lyla said it’s transmitted through air. Hurry up and put these on.”

Ben grumbles and slams the mask on before running in while Hobie and Jessica share a look. “You think Sunny will be alright?” The spiked spider asks as he places the gas mask on his already covered face.

“She better be.” Jessica sighs. “I definitely don’t want to find out how Miguel will react if she wasn’t.”

With that Hobie runs in while Jessica calls for backup to help contain the spores seeping from the windows.

~~~~~~~~

“Vitals appear to be normal.” Spider-Doc mutters to the three spider people surrounding one of the hospital beds. “O’Hara and (L/N) are both looking good on blood pressure and brain activity, so I expect them to wake up anytime soon.”

Thankfully, Hobie and Ben managed to capture the green goblin trio and reinforcements came just in time to contain the spread of the bio weapon. However, both Miguel and his companion were found bloody and unconscious when they found them.

The beloved spider woman had most of the damage with several shards of glass impaled into her back and arm while gaining a severe concussion. The team figured that in the rush of the moment and his vision obscured by the cloud of dust, the goblins took Miguel by surprise and got him with three sharp projectiles while he was trying to help Sunny.

Despite the horrific scene, both of them were deemed to be alright after some surgery and the only physical damage was Sunny’s now broken arm, which should heal in about a week thanks to the signature spiderman super healing. The only worry was the psychological damage.

Both were definitively exposed to large quantities of the gas and from what Lyla had said about the mental effects of the spores, they were worried about an invisible spider and her beast of a companion tearing everything apart.

Jessica sighs as she sadly gazes at the broken and restrained bodies of her friends as Hobi places a small bear on his little friend’s bed.

“Didn’t Lyla say anything about how that antitoxin is coming along?” Peter says as he bites his nail.

Spider-Doc nods as his lens shifts to appear like he’s hopefully smiling. “Lyla has said thanks to the samples from their suits, an antitoxin will be finished in two days.”

“Two days?!” Hobie snaps up. “We are about to have two spidermen possibly going on a rampage if we piss them off. I don’t think we can wa-“

A soft groan emits from the bed beside the ranting anarchist and everyone’s attention breaks from the poor doctor and onto the small spider. Her eyes flutter open as she frowns at her surroundings.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?” Jessica soothes as she helps the disoriented girl sit up in her bed.

“I’m fine.” The girl said in an unusually blunt way. Her eyes now harden in an annoyed expression as she looks around at the group. “Next time, you guys should be more considerate to someone recovering from having their shit rocked.” She scolds before growling at the pain.

The sight of the sweet girl now acting so bothered towards their presence was so unsettling, but not unexpected. They were aware the sweet girl they knew was gonna be changed by the gas, but it’s still disturbing.

As they all stare at the glaring girl, a deep groan comes from the bed next to her as her attention focuses on her love. Her anger emerges as she snaps back to the spiders.

“What the fuck did y’all do to him?! Was it that asshole Ben Riley? I’m gonna kick his ass if he’s the reason my Miggy is in-“

“Cariño?” A soft mutter causes her verbal rampage to end as a pair of ruby eyes focused on her. Once she meets his eyes, an uncharacteristically soft grin comes over his face as he mumbles sweetly. “Hola, mi niña bonita, ¿cómo te sientes?””

“I’m fine.” The girl mumbles as she tries to keep her stern face while a little dusting of blush takes over. “What about you?”

Miguel chuckles at her face and gently reaches over and caresses her hand as he swoons, “Siento que puedo enfrentarme a un toro ahora que he visto tu hermoso rostro, mi amor.”

The group of spidermen looked at Miguel horrified as he looks up at them. Expecting him to snap at them or try and escape his restrains, but he doesn’t do either. He gives them a bright friendly smile as he cheers, “Oh, you guys made it out alright. I’m glad we are all still here together. Great job, everyone.”

Hobie backs up a couple of steps trying to calm his raging heart before he had a heart attack from the shock. Jessica looks at him disturbed as she silently records the duo on her phone to show her husband later. Peter calls Lyla on his gizmo as his face looses all color.

The AI emerges out of the gizmo with a cheery, “Hello~ you ringed?”

“What’s wrong with Miguel?” Peter snaps as he hears Sunny immediately yell at him about what he said about her Miggy.

“Oh I meant to warn you about that. Well the aggression is on a most case scenario kinda thing, not an every case thing. Since Miguel is more genetically altered with spider than Little Miss Sunshine, his natural aggression cancels out the one caused by the bio weapon.” The assistant explains.

Hobie laughs at this as he looks at the now confused Miguel, “So our big bad leader is as harmless as a kitten now?”

“Yep.” Lyla giggles. “And because our sunny pants there was as dangerous as a jumping spider before this, she’s now part of the majority percentaile.”

“What the fuck did you say about Migue, you twig?!” The formerly harmless girl bucks in her restraints as her protective nature causes her to want to thrash the punk star.

“Mi amor, por favor cálmate... No está tratando de ser grosero…” A now teary eyed Miguel tries to sooth his partner in a shaky calm voice.

That was when Jessica realized a mistake they made. When they restrained the pair earlier, Miguel was placed in titanium bands that crossed over his chest, arms, legs and hips. Since Sunny wasn’t considered a ‘major’ threat in comparison, she was just held down by some chains.

Because of this, the earth deafening sound of chains shattering cause all of the spiders to scream. The AI giggles as she responds,

“I forgot to mention that the chemical not only increases aggression, but also physical strength. In humans, they would just be slightly stronger than normal, but in Miss (Y/N)’s case…”

The rest couldn’t hear what else Lyla had to say as Hobie started booking it down the hall with a pissed off Sunny hot on his heels. Jessica frantically tries to undo Miguel’s restraints as he cries for his lover to come back.

Peter sighs and asks, “How much longer until the antidote is ready?”

“I can rush it for you. Should take another 3 hours hopefully.”

“Do you have any tranquilizers?” Peter asks as a now free Miguel tries to chase down his angry lover.

“No~”

~~~~~~~~~~

Translations:

Hola, mi niña bonita, ¿cómo te sientes? - Hello, my pretty girl, how are you feeling?

Mi amor, por favor cálmate... No está tratando de ser grosero…- My love, please calm down...He's not trying to be rude…

Siento que puedo enfrentarme a un toro ahora que he visto tu hermoso rostro, mi amor.- I feel like I can take on a bull now that I've seen your beautiful face, my love.

~~~~~~~~~~

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#miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #fanfic #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara

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cupid-luv · 1 year ago

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The Green Ribbon by @cupid-luv

The Green Ribbon, located in the Arts Quarter in San Myshuno has been the talk of the town. This restaurant has been opened for not too long and has been a hit for everyone of all ages. This exquisite restaurant has so many delicious meals served with the best drinks in town. All is welcome to have a night out with your friends, family or significant other for any occasion. The Modern architecture with dark toned colors and much greenery has been placed in such a beautiful city. Come on down to The Green Ribbon and enjoy a high class meal with a high class view.

Thank you to all of the CC/Mod content creators. This build would not be possible without any of you guys! P.S first time uploading a build and adding cc links. Please let me know if you're missing anything and I'm more than happy to help or redirect you to the proper cc! @harrie-cc @pierisim @felixandresims @littledica @joyceisfox @tuds @myshunosun @ophernelia

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barbucomedie · 8 months ago

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Obsidian Mace from Mexico City, Mexico dated between 1325 - 1521 on display at the Templo Mayor Museum in Mexico City, Mexico

In the Aztec's view of the world, obsidian was considered a cold and nocturnal material. The deposit sites controlled by the Aztecs were found in the Basin of Mexico, whereby the product arrived at Tenochtitlan through trade as well as through the payment of tribute.

Most pieces found at the Templo Mayor were manufactured with green obsidian from the Sierra de las Navajas, a mountainous fromation located in the current state of Hidalgo; gray obsidian stones from deposit sites located in the current states of Mexico and Pueblo, ar found in lesser proportion as well as the "Meca" obsidian with red streaks, coming from various sources.

Photographs taken by myself 2024

#military history #art #archaeology #medieval #aztec empire #mexico #mexican #templo mayor museum #mexico city #barbucomedie

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freakyfrye · 6 months ago

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ᝰ. perfect stranger

requested: stolas x gn! swan reader, what if stolas never met blitzø at the ‘not divorce’ party

type: oneshot

content: no mention of pronouns (just “you”), slow burn, wholesome & vulnerable fluff, love at first sight (for Stolas maybe, up to interpretation), flustered & subtlety turned on stolas (not too much tho stolas), down to earth reader

note: for the record, I don’t hate stella (i actually like her character, villains have a soft place in my heart always), y’all idk about this—this is trash 🚮 I hate how I wrote it, imposter syndrome is heavy with this one but I don’t want to rewrite it and make you wait longer! I know I said I’ll wait until I wrote all my wips but I need this out my drafts neow!

Anyone who could be considered important, on some level but no more than she, knew that Stella Goetia just adored throwing parties once in a blood moon. In her fancy mansion, she’s the face, the main character, and she plays her role as host so well that people tend to overlook every other bad quality she has among the very few pros. Or perhaps, they would rather not have bad blood with someone of her caliber.

You, on the other hand, couldn't care less—about the parties, the fancy mansion, or Stella herself, frankly. Parties were never your first choice for outings; they were the most energy-draining events, with all the overcrowding and having to pretend to enjoy the company of ill-minded individuals.

But alas, you begrudgingly attend this one, and many others, as a representative of your family name. You're not silent in your disagreement, always voicing how they couldn't have picked a worse member for the job—if your frown, ever present since entering the oh-so-lovely and homey residency of the royal family, was anything to go by.

Doing your due diligence, you converse with a few guests as you make your way through the herd of people, keeping it curt and unseasoned. Finally, you reach the woman of the hour. Locating her wasn’t difficult; her boisterous, obnoxious laughter, reminiscent of a terribly played violin, rang through the room.

Exactly what you’d expect from her. Respectfully but quickly, you greet her, say a few false words of endearment about living a long life, and then scurry off back into the sea of snobby kiss asses. To her and anyone around her, it might look like you were scared, tucking your tail between your legs. In truth, you were trying to keep your big mouth shut in case she couldn’t keep her nasty comments to herself.

The party continues uneventfully. The music, more like a lullaby, would have lured you to sleep if you hadn’t downed a few cocktails to prevent it. The partygoers, annoying as they are, fail to read the room and approach you regardless of your many excuses to avoid meaningless conversation. They just want insight on why a (surname) is at a party alone, much less why you of all people are here.

By evening, you were running out of excuses until you grow hungry—using the lack of vegetarian options as a way to escape their gossip. Now standing beside a gigantic window, you contentedly munch on some leafy greens, finding interest in staring outside. The view is much more impressive than the building itself—isolated enough from Imp City yet overlooking it enough to make a grand statement. It is truly beautiful at night, the lights like little twinkling stars rivaling the sky.

Your head snaps in the direction of a crash, eyebrows raised in disbelief at the sight of wine dribbling down the glass of the window beside the one you stand near, shards scattered on the ground. To your surprise, or perhaps not, the vandal is Stella, who now leaves the scene in a fit of laughter, two idiots in tow beside her.

Why in hell would she do that to her own home? The thought Interest you some. She should know the potential damage that could have caused, let alone to one of her guests who could have been injured. Stella looked back, a sinister grin spreading across her face as she shot a rude remark past you towards someone. It made you realize she didn’t really care—neither about the mansion nor how it made her look.

Your lips form a tight line when you realize her comment was directed at her husband, who retorts with a low, irritated chirp. It seems this wasn’t much of a homey residence after all. Sighing, you place your drink onto the tray of a passing imp, heading over to the stained glass, each step revealing more of the prince hiding behind a column.

There wasn’t a memory with him that you could recall as you took out a handkerchief, wiping the window clean. You knew he attended all parties, cursed with the duty of family, but you never interacted with him. As you bent down, picking up the shards piece by piece, you considered whether you should approach him.

There were plenty of reasons why you didn’t want to or shouldn’t, like the vibe he was giving off as he shamelessly gulping down a bottle of absinthe. But it was your duty to greet all hosts, and even though he wasn’t mingling like his wife, he still counted. It was better to get it over with.

Hurriedly, you call over a wait staff, dropping the shards on their tray with a fleeting explanation, “Have that area swept thoroughly,” while gesturing towards it before brushing past them towards the prince. Stolas grew in size as the distance closed, standing a few feet taller than you. It would be only slightly intimidating if not for him choking on his drink after you suddenly appeared before him.

Sending him an apologetic smile, you bow, “Evening, Your Highness. Hope I didn’t frighten you.”

He managed to squeeze out, “I’m fine,” in the middle of coughing before fixing his posture and smoothing down his vest, handing the bottle to a imp beside him. “It’s quite alright. I just wasn’t expecting company…” he trails off, eyes flickering up and down, clearly confused as to who you are or why you were talking to him of all people in the room.

“I’m glad. I would hate to be the reason the prince falls ill. That would not bode well for my family,” you admit, half-jokingly, before addressing the second half of his statement. “You’re in a room full of like-minded people; surely someone besides me has come to talk with you.”

Right? Because that makes sense. He is the prince.

He blinks owlishly at you before stuttering, “Well—” He clears his throat, placing a hand on his abdomen before continuing, feigning nonchalance, “Why, of course. It’s only appropriate in this setting. I presume that’s your current agenda?”

“Yes,” you answer truthfully, finally glancing up and pausing. A giant banner hangs loosely above his head that reads “NOT DIVORCED!” in bold lettering. Usually the observant type, how in the world did you miss this? “However, if I’m honest, that’s part of the reason,” you add, curiously. You didn't realize it was that kind of party. Maybe you should start paying more attention to the invitations.

“Oh?” Stolas tilts his head slightly, eyes widening. He leans in closer, his voice a mix of confusion and genuine interest, “And what, pray tell, is the other half of the reason?”

You open your mouth, ready to speak what’s on your mind. You've never been one to hide how you feel—superior or not—otherwise, it would consume you. But then you close it, pursing your lips in thought. Perhaps that would be too rude, too personal off the jump, too far outside your jurisdiction to ask him about his marriage at his “not divorced” party, which his wicked wife obviously threw just to spite him.

Damn, you wish more than anything that you could have continued the party without ever seeing that sign or witnessing Stella’s public display. You didn’t care for gossip, but you were a curious individual by nature. He’s standing there, waiting on you to say something—anything, or you’ll risk looking like a fool.

“Do you want to get out of here?” you blurt out after a pregnant pause, cursing yourself inwardly for what you were getting yourself into. Anything would be better than what had came out of your lips.

His body recoils in apparent disgust at what you dare ask him, a prince. You can’t say you blame him; you’d be creeped out if a random nobody asked that too. “Wait, what?” he replies, dumbfounded at your boldness. Was this a joke? He scans around the room, as if searching for something but finds nothing before returning his gaze to you, a faint blush dusting his face. “Could you repeat that?”

You've made your bed, might as well lie in it. Besides, you never wanted to be at this party in the first place, and it's becoming painfully dull. Ideally, you'd slip away alone after greeting him—but this could work out—satisfying your curiosity before the night is over, it could potentially end badly but who knows when you'll cross paths again. Probably at another miserable gathering, actually.

"Ditch the party with me?" You casually rephrase, keeping your head high, silently hoping you don't come off as too much of an idiot. “Or not. Either way, I’m bored stiff here, and it doesn’t look like you’re having a blast either.”

Stolas blinks a few times, processing your proposition. “You’re suggesting leaving the party together?” he repeats, confirming what you’ve just asked, though you’d already clarified it. His lips curl into a hesitant smile, betraying a hint of nervousness at the unexpected proposal.

“And where would we go?” There’s a playful gleam in his eyes, signaling his curiosity and a willingness to entertain the idea of breaking away from the formalities of the event.

You hum in thought, not having planned that far ahead, before shrugging and tilting your head with a genuine smile. "What about the garden? There seem to be a lot of plants around the palace. Someone must really care for them. I bet it’s beautiful," you suggest, recalling the impressive variety of plants, including the carnivorous ones, on the way to the ballroom.

His feathers ruffle as he lets out a low, excited squeal, his smile growing more confident as he leans down to your height. "You have an interest in plants?" he asks, almost unable to believe it, his hands clasped together. Everyone he's ever come across has called his interests boring. He never had a friend who was.

You nod, your posture relaxing after seeing his genuine reaction. "It's a bonding activity between my mother and me that started in childhood. I take it by your reaction that you handle their care?" Perhaps he could be good company after all.

His comical blush returns when he remembers that your suggestion came with a compliment. “Yes, I do. I’m surprised you noticed. Not everyone cares for botany…” He gestures toward the exit, silently saying ‘after you’ before adding, “I would be delighted to accompany you to the garden. I can show you the new species of carnivorous plant I acquired...if you’d like?”

Chuckling at his enthusiasm, you nod and reply, “I’d love that.” You head toward the door, with Stolas quickly falling into step beside you, his hands interlocking behind his back. There’s a respectable distance between you both, ensuring you don’t draw unnecessary attention as you discreetly leave together.

Stolas takes the lead after exiting the ballroom, and a comfortable silence settles between you, broken only by the sound of your footsteps. You notice how he occasionally glances at you, curiosity and excitement in his eyes, as the distance between you subtly closes. You don't voice your observation, letting him assume he's being sneaky when he's not.

"You know," he begins softly, eyes now trained forward, "I never caught your name." A stifled snicker escapes you, causing him to snap his eyes towards you, filled with confusion and a tad bit of worry. "Did I say something amusing?" he asks, tilting his head slightly.

Shaking your head, you respond, "No, it's just... It's a silly thought to think that you might know who I am." you tease.

A flustered noise escapes him, his shoulders stiffening as his mouth drops open and then snaps shut. He stops abruptly, turning his whole body toward you as he stutters, “That’s not... well, the reason...” He struggles to find his words before speaking honestly, “I don’t have a real reason, but if I had met you before, I wouldn’t forget you.” As if he could, you were the first creature in a long while to spark his interest so effortlessly.

Sighing softly, you gesture for him to continue walking. "Actually, it's refreshing not to be noticed immediately upon entering a room," you admit with a slight smile.

Finally reaching the garden, he opens the door and holds it for you, a gentle smile playing on his lips. “I understand how you might feel,” he sympathizes softly, closing the door behind him as he follows you inside. He watches with pride as your eyes widen in awe at the lush, vibrant space filled with an array of plants.

Taking your hand lightly, he guides you to a particular section of the garden where an unusual, striking plant catches your eye. “This is it,” he says, reluctantly letting go of your hand. “My newest addition. Isn’t it fascinating?”

You glance between him and the plant, chuckling in disbelief. "You’re kidding, right?" Your eyebrows shoot up at his confused expression. "Satan, I don’t know what I was expecting, but this—this wasn’t it. How in hell did you get an earth plant to thrive?"

He hums, glancing at the plant lovingly. "A bit of nurturing, a touch of magic, and voilà—a thriving earth plant."

"That simple, huh?" you ask, stepping up to touch the plant. It's soft under your touch and bends with ease—it's real. He wasn’t joking, but then again, why would he with all these other live plants around? It’s just a little hard to believe, is all. “Simple but significant.” you add, remember an affirmation your mother used to say.

Smiling, you let go of the leaf, your eyes following a path that leads deeper into the garden. You start walking, momentarily forgetting your original agenda: why throw a 'not divorce party'? Why not a normal party like normal couples do? But then again, was anything ever normal when you’re raised in the royal family?

Chances are they were arranged before they could even walk. Everyone who grew up in the scene knew that love wasn’t always part of those kinds of marriages. But you thought that wasn’t the case with those two. They hid it so well.

You become so engrossed in the scenery that you jump slightly when Stolas starts to speak, forgetting that you are in his home and not a museum. “Earlier… you said greeting me was only part of your agenda.” He raises his arms in a gesture of harmlessness noticing your jitteriness before continuing, “I’m purely curious… inviting me to escape with you wasn’t the other half, was it?”

"You’re more observant than I gave you credit for," you tease lightly. "You’re right. I still think it’s a touchy subject for you, but I can’t help myself. It’s like an itch in my brain that needs to be satisfied."

“There’s a lot you’d come to find out about me. I’m quite attentive toward things or people who interest me. Plants, my darling Octavia…” Stolas trails off, leaving his lost words hanging tensely in the air, but his gentle eyes on you have you forcing your brain to stop misinterpreting him. He shakes his head, as if to dismiss his own thoughts, "You can ask, as long as I get to ask you one in return. A fair exchange, yes?"

“Fair enough,” you agree, still hesitant and unsure of how he would take it but blurting out your question anyway. “It’s not hard to see that there’s some tension between you and your wife… almost painfully obvious.” You sigh, recalling the earlier events. “So my question is, why are you together, throwing a ‘not divorce’ party when it so clearly should be the opposite?”

There’s a long, pregnant pause between you two. Stolas stares at you, blinking as he processes your question, truly not expecting that to be what was on your mind. You were right—it was a rather personal question, one that really wasn’t any of your business. The nerve of you to be so crass as to ask him that of all questions, and yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to dismiss you.

Instead, he thought of all the reasons why he should answer—someone cares, someone’s listening… the list goes on and he checks them all off. The results are in and it’s still unclear if he should, even though his heart wants him to. Eventually, he expresses himself candidly, laying himself bare for a stranger who unexpectedly stepped inside his world.

Stolas sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair as he looks down at the ground. For a moment, he seems lost in thought, grappling with the complexity of his situation.

"It's... complicated. Stella and I, we've grown apart, to say the least. Our marriage was never really based on love or mutual respect, but more on the idea of strengthening our family's influence and securing alliances."

He lifts his gaze to meet yours, his eyes haunted by a deep sadness.

"But to leave her... it's not that simple. Divorce is rare and scandalous in Goetia. It would be a massive blow to my reputation, and I'm not sure I'm ready to face that kind of backlash just yet."

He shrugs, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as exhaustion settles on his face. The facade he’s been building crumbles in the wake of vulnerability. Now you feel slightly guilty for asking, but you know you had to—not because you were nosy anymore, but partly because he needs to know that there is an alternate ending, one where he could be happy. That it was possible, you were proof.

“I understand the expectations of royals as much as you do. However, I refused to give up that part of my life to my duties. I saw how taxing it could be from the outside looking in. Sometimes it works, other times it doesn’t. I couldn’t leave that up to chance, and I believe you shouldn’t have to either. So what if the royal family judges you? They’re going to do that regardless. If they are, why not live for yourself? You don’t have much to gain from the marriage anymore. Your daughter’s nearing adulthood, right?”

Stolas numbly nods, hanging onto every word. “Then set yourself free before you drive yourself mad trying to keep up with appearances.”

Stolas is at a loss for words. No one has ever cared enough about him to offer such kind words of support. Not his father, not his wife, not even those with whom he sought intimacy. Yet here you are, a stranger, offering him hope. He feels himself choking up with emotion, but he expertly covers it with a cough and a polite smile behind his hand.

However, you can see just how much your words have affected him when you look into his glossed-over eyes. It's like looking at freshly polished rubies. You fear if you confess that the tears he hasn’t shed will flow. Heavens when did you become so soft…

His hand moves from his lips to rest over his heart, which beats so aggressively against his ribcage that he might be concerned if he weren't immortal. You are dangerous for his health, he thinks, when you tilt your head cutely, causing his heart to flutter momentarily before finding its appropriate rhythm again. His throat tightens as he tries to swallow with a dry mouth.

“That might be the kindest and most genuine advice anyone has given me… thank you,” he mutters, afraid to speak louder than a whisper for this conversation. Stolas's face grows hot as he confesses his next words, a hint of longing in his voice, “I wish I had stood up for myself then. Maybe things would have been different…”

“It’s never too late to do what’s right by you.” you reply without a beat, nodding in all seriousness.

“You’re right!” Stolas steps closer to you, moving his hand closer to yours. “It’s time to live for myself. I think I deserve that much. You’ve given me much to think about.” His hand hesitantly brushes against yours. “But I do believe it’s my turn for a question.”

You perk a brow at his change in tone, noticing it drop an octave but it doesn’t match the coy smile he sends you. “I said it before: it’s only fair after the little discomfort I caused you,” you remind him, side-eyeing him, standing rigid and unsure of the sudden change in atmosphere.

He chuckles softly, finally taking your hand in his, “The only discomfort I felt was at that stuffy party, which was soothed by your presence,” he replies, before dipping down to place a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. “Can we do this again? Going out, I mean.” Rising back up but not letting go of your hand, he continues, “I enjoy your company, and your honesty is a breath of fresh air compared to everyone sugar-coating. You’re the first person I’ve met who shares my interests too. It would be a shame, on my part, to leave it at this.”

Your purse your lips, brows furrowed. Since attending this party, nothing has gone right. Instead of leaving alone, you ended up escaping with the prince, and now he wants to see you again. It wouldn’t be an issue if it weren’t for the subtle hints he been giving since you’ve met. Let’s not forget that he is still married.

Despite how shitty a marriage it may be, he was taken. Not that it was your intention to steal him away in the first place. This could only end badly if people were to take your sudden friendship the wrong way. Now getting out of an arranged marriage with someone else was one thing, but having a situationship with the prince of Hell was another.

How were you going to spin this? You avert your eyes from his, filled with anticipation and hope, ignoring the gentle squeeze of his hand in yours. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, your highness.”

Stolas coaxingly coos gently, drawing your attention to your hands, which he interlocks. "Oh, please? We could have it at your place this time if it'll make you more comfortable."

"Oh fuck me," you groan, closing your eyes and rubbing the back of your neck with your free hand, missing the way Stolas bites his lip as a shiver slithers through his body. You reluctantly agree, opening your eyes, "Alright... You have to give me time to get everything up to par for a prince."

"Not need! For company like yours, I’m fine anywhere."

rules, masterlist

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sonnyaavce · 8 months ago

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CHAPTER # 0

The first meeting that was supposed to be drafted ended up being chaotic once everyone went to the watchtower. Some JL members as well some of the Dark that weren’t supposed to be around in base were quickly debriefed in the mission and found the current sight a bit amusing as they saw the small child spirit in one of the main leagues arms deep asleep and purring like a cat calmly.

Flash did indeed found it a bit cute at first but now it was just hilarious that Wonder Woman; who was known to be a fierce Amazonian, the one who hated male human contact would end up being demoted as a motherly figure by the small spectre and ‘wow’ wasn’t that a kicker, that ghost and spirits are real in the end?

Now, don’t get him wrong but Barry is a scientist by hearth and a firm non believer in anything that relates to the supernatural; aliens and mutants? sure those are scientifically proved but death people, core magic and ghost? Nuh uh… nop, that’s way too kahooted for him and a very nonsensical non scientific stuff to be mixing himself with.

So, he knows he’s starting to look a bit crazed as he stared a tad contemplative at the small baby ghost ‘tuttelagé’ he corrects himself in his head ‘he’s a dead protective spirit’ but he’s just soooo curios…..

“We now will start with the debrief with the members of Dark explaining some background first” announced Batman over the table, making Barry focus on the rest of the team surrounding him; Superman and Aquaman together with Hal and Martian MH were moving documents and folders that the Bat had made in just five minutes after the mission and ‘how the fuck did he do that! He’s the Flash and even him isn’t that efficient to pull out a document in that short amount of time!’

“First things first, the mission” intones Constantine taking a cig and lighting it of with his magic “we, the Justice League Dark received an S.O.S tip from someone who claimed that there were some unknown cult people making the homeless disappear from some of your cities” making some quick slides and pictures appear “we noticed a pattern with them tho, they only kidnapped people with shady or non-visible outline; so some cities like Star City and Metropolis only had one or two missing and the only large one was of course…. Gotham and Bluddhaven, so we decided to involve the according héroes of these cities”

Zatanna then interrupted to add “We also noticed that some of these place still reeked death, from an old ritual that we found some clues into it, we discovered some things”

“First, what they did and how they did it before disappearing was concerning” added Constantine, as he releases a spell to burn of the cig “ and the second thing we noticed was, when we finally came in contact with one of these places we discovered these….”

Zatanna moved aside as a massive green looming circle came into view “Swamp Thing together with Enchantress managed to find some more clues about the deity these cults were trying to summon and among the common ones like Hades, Kali or Anubis we found out this one belonging to an ancient god of the death like Mictlantecuhtli or Ah Puch, but we managed to narrow it down to one member that belongs to a group called The Endless”

Constantine then interrupts again, this time taking a long break as Batman grunts “now before we start explaining who these gals are we have to get understand this a’right? The Endless are a family of beings who are very prickly to bond with, but they are Death, Delirium, Desire, Despair, Destiny, Destruction and Dream and each of them is as ancient as a god, so we don’t mention these guys in the open likewise”

Zatanna then added “with this, now we had a lead on who they were trying to bring forth but also the location of the ritual they were trying to do”

“But, where does this tuttelagé fall all into this?” interrupted Green Arrow looking towards Wonder Woman with the child still sleeping in her arms “by Zatanna words, he’s a protection spirit not a death one, where does this kid spirit fall into this mess”

“We think the cultist as they were trying to summon Death itself but because Death doesn’t like to answer her phone, instead forcefully brought out one of his most closer charges” tutted Constantine answering the man.

“Death has tons of offspring scattered all around the multiverse for her to care to count but with what Z’ says it’s true about the little tick then this means someone hurt her son and his charge in a way that almost makes him fade away”

“And this is bad becauseee?” slurred stupidly Flash, Constantine exhaled annoyed at the speedster “because it means that whatever these idiots did, it hurt an offspring of Death itself, and Death isn’t as forgiving as Dream or Destiny; so if she so wants, she could end this world and be done with us because one of her children; because news ta ya Flash, Death adores her children equally”

The faces of several members of the Justice League were ashen as it dawn in, a heavy sense of dread sets in as everyone looks at the baby resting in Dianna's arms still sleeps soundly.

masterpost

#danny phantom #dpxdc #dp x dc writing prompt #justice league #baby danny #danny fenton #i did a thing #i did my best #i did this to myself #i fixed it #english isnt my first language

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greeneyes5656 · 1 year ago

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Green View City: A Sustainable Haven for Modern Living

Introduction

In a world where environmental consciousness is increasingly becoming a priority, it's heartening to see real estate developers stepping up to create sustainable, eco-friendly communities. Green View City, a project launched by "Green City Developers" Private Limited, is a shining example of this forward-thinking approach. This visionary development is aimed at providing excellent environmentally friendly residential and commercial facilities to its inhabitants. Located on the main GT road in Sarai Alamgir, Green View City offers more than just a place to live – it provides a haven for those who value the environment, security, privacy, and peace of mind.

Location and Accessibility

One of the standout features of Green View City is its strategic location. Situated on the main GT road in Sarai Alamgir, this development offers easy access to the residents, making daily commuting a breeze. Whether you're heading to work, school, or simply exploring the surrounding vicinity, you'll find the convenience of this location unparalleled.

With the bustling city of Sarai Alamgir nearby, Green View City offers the perfect balance between urban living and a peaceful oasis. The development's proximity to this urban center ensures that all essential amenities are within easy reach, while its serene surroundings provide a respite from the city's hustle and bustle.

The Scale and Ambition

Green View City encompasses an initial area of approximately 5,000 kanals, demonstrating the developer's dedication to creating a significant and meaningful community. However, the project's ultimate size will be determined by market response, ensuring that it remains a sustainable and viable development in the long run. This approach aligns with the developers' commitment to responsible urban planning and development.

Eco-Friendly Living

At the heart of Green View City's vision is a commitment to environmental sustainability. Here's how the development achieves its green objectives:

Green Spaces

The city is thoughtfully designed to incorporate lush green spaces, parks, and gardens. Residents can enjoy the beauty of nature within the community.

Energy-Efficient Infrastructure

Green View City employs modern technology and design principles to reduce energy consumption and promote sustainable living.

Waste Management

Proper waste management systems are in place to minimize the environmental impact and maintain a clean and green environment.

Renewable Energy Sources

The developers are exploring options for harnessing renewable energy sources to power the community.

Water Conservation

Rainwater harvesting and efficient water usage systems are integrated into the development to minimize water waste.

Gated Community for Security and Privacy

Security and privacy are top priorities at Green View City. The gated community concept ensures that residents can enjoy a secure and peaceful living environment. Key features include:

24/7 Security

A professional security team is on hand to monitor the premises and ensure residents' safety.

Surveillance Systems

State-of-the-art surveillance systems are installed to enhance security measures.

Controlled Access

The community entrance is restricted to authorized personnel only, creating an additional layer of security.

Privacy

The layout of Green View City promotes a sense of privacy for all residents, creating a serene atmosphere.

Amenities and Facilities

Green View City goes above and beyond in offering residents a wide range of amenities and facilities, ensuring a comfortable and convenient lifestyle:

Educational Institutions

Nearby schools and colleges make it an ideal place for families with children.

Healthcare Facilities

Hospitals and clinics are easily accessible, providing peace of mind during medical emergencies.

Commercial Area

A commercial hub within the development offers shopping and dining options, reducing the need for long commutes.

Recreational Spaces

Parks, jogging tracks, and sports facilities provide opportunities for recreation and fitness.

Community Centers

Meeting spaces and event venues are available for social gatherings and community events.

Conclusion

Green View City, a project by Green City Developers Private Limited, is a visionary development that showcases the future of urban planning and sustainable living. Its prime location, commitment to eco-friendly practices, focus on security and privacy, and comprehensive amenities make it an attractive option for those seeking a balanced, modern lifestyle.

As a gated community, Green View City is designed to provide its inhabitants with more than just a place to live; it offers a sense of belonging and a commitment to a greener, more sustainable future. The extension of the project will be determined by market response, ensuring that it remains a vibrant, thriving community that fulfills the needs and aspirations of its residents. This development is a testament to the positive impact that responsible, eco-conscious urban planning can have on our future.

#Green View City #Green City Kharian #Green City Location #Housing Society

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make-friends-with-the-rats · 9 days ago

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I found another map! Bird's-eye-view of Manhattan and adjacent districts, New York City, c 1903(?)

Red: The Brooklyn Bridge Yellow: The New York World Building Green: Duane Street and the Newsboys' Lodging House Blue: Baxter Street, the location of the Jacobs family's tenement apartment according to the original Hard Promises script

Here's a closer view of the lodging house (green) and "Newspaper Row."

Newspaper Row, or Park Row, ia adjacent to City Hall Park and was the location of the World (yellow), the Sun (obscured by the Tribune), the Tribune (blue), and the times (red) in the late 19th century. [source]

Newspaper Row, c 1900. Left to Right: the New York World, The Sun, The Tribune, and the New York Times.

The New York Tribune, founded by Horace Greely in 1841, was the original location of the Horace Greely statue featured in Newsies. It was dedicated in 1890 and was later moved from the Tribune to City Hall Park in 1915 where it still stands today.

Horace Greeley Statue Outside New York Tribune Building, c January 1, 1900. and Greeley statue in City Hall Park, c 1915 - 1920.

The New York Sun, at which Bryan Denton and Katherine Plumber work, was located beside the Tribune on the intersection of Nassau and Frankfort streets.

"The Sun," 1893 black and white halftone print.

The Newsboy's Lodging House, or the Brace Memorial Lodging House, was opened in 1874 by the Children's Aid Society. It stood at the intersection of three streets: William Street, Duane Street, and Chambers Street (all three of which I have highlighted in green in the above map). In 1899, the lodging house's address was 9 Duane Street. [source]

Newsboys' Lodging House, c 1899.

If you travel up north, you can also locate on this map the Irving Place Theatre, otherwise known as Irving Hall or Medda's Theatre.

Originally opened in 1860 as Irving Hall, Irving Place Theatre was rebuilt in 1888 as "Amberg's German Theatre." It became known as the Irving Place Theatre in 1893. [source]

The theatre's address was 118 E. 15th Street and was located between 14th and 15th streets, at the southwest corner of 15th street and Irving Place. Irving Place Theatre was demolished in 1894 to build the Zeckendorf Towers. [source]

Top: Irving Place Theatre, undated. Bottom: Irving Place Theatre, c 1912.

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(link to reblog with the refuge added)

#newsies #newsies 1992 #1992 newsies #1992sies #92sies #history #historical photos #maps #nerd alert!#my writing #jack kelly #david jacobs #bryan denton #katherine plumber #medda larkson #medda larkin

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webslinger-holland · 10 months ago

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Best Pilot in the Galaxy | Tech from The Bad Batch

Summary: During a mission, Tech has a hard time allowing his ship to be driven by someone else.

Warning: slight angst and argument

Pairing: Tech x Fem!Reader Pilot

Type: Oneshot

The Marauder was sitting on a world in the Outer Rim called Cassander. It was a lush, green planet with a few major bodies of water. However, most notably, the planet was growing in population and had recently become Ord Mantell's most competitive trading rival.

The ship was nearly empty, except for a singular pilot sitting in the cockpit. She was not the rightful owner of the ship, but had been assigned this mission with the group of rouge clones that did own the ship. The squad was located somewhere in the capital city nearby, attempting to steal the package in which they had come for. The pilot waited patiently for the pickup call.

Now, the pilot had been waiting for nearly two hours for the call to come through the comms. She did everything she could think of to pass the time, which included rummaging through the squad's belongings. Though she didn't find anything of value.

The gonk droid made a noise as he waddled into the cockpit. The pilot went through the ship's log, seeing all the planets the squad had recently visited. Their last stop happened to be Ord Mantell where they were assigned this mission in particular.

"Y/n! Come in," Hunter's voice sounded desperate over the comms. She quickly jolted forward in her seat, pressing the button to relay a message back.

"Read you loud and clear," Y/n responded. She began clicking buttons on the control panel, preparing the ship for liftoff.

"We need a pick up. We've been compromised," Hunter explained. He was panting on the other end of the line, which probably meant they were running.

"What part of stealth mission is so hard to understand?"

"Just hurry. We don't have a lot of time. They're sending air support," Hunter warned her.

"Oh great," Y/n scoffed sarcastically.

"I'm sending you our coordinates," Tech interjected over the communications.

As the Marauder departed off the ground, the landing gear retracted back into the ship. The wings moved downwards as the ship was angled towards the sky. The engine roared to life; the ship began flying towards the rendezvous location.

The workers from the trading post were shooting their blasters at the criminals running away from them. They tried to keep up with them, firing relentlessly as they got away with some of their own goods.

It was Wrecker, Hunter, and Tech who were carrying the heavy cargo in the form of a shipping container. Normally, it would take four guys to carry the cargo, but since Wrecker was so strong, he was able to carry the left side without help. Behind them, Echo and Omega fired shots back at the workers. They covered them as the rest ran as fast as they could.

"Whatever is in here, it better be worth it." Wrecker grunted, dodging the blaster fire.

"As long as we get paid," Hunter responded.

The small squad continued running through the vast forest, maneuvering around trees in hopes of using its coverage to their advantage. They came into a clearing with the workers getting closer each second. All of the sudden, a cliff came into their view which caused them to halt in their place.

"Where's our ride?" Echo asked desperately. He peered around his shoulder with his gun still raised.

"There!" Omega pointed into the sky.

The Marauder rounded the corner of the mountain, coming into their line of view. It flew over to the edge of the cliff to meet them. The ramp lowered to hover right by the cliff, allowing the squad to climb aboard the vessel.

The blaster fire was beginning to hit the sides of the ship. The squad fired back, striking a few of the workers down. Once everyone was aboard, Hunter slammed the button on the side of the wall so the ramp was lifted.

"That's everyone," Hunter shouted. "Get us out of here!"

"Roger that," Y/n said.

Pulling a lever, the thrusters sent a powerful volt back which propelled the ship forward rapidly. By steering the ship, Y/n directed the ship back into the mountain range. She could hear the air support coming up behind them. She took a sharp turn to deter them.

The sharp turn caused each member of the squad to loose their footing and grab something nearby to steady themselves. Carefully, Tech quickly made his way into the cockpit. He leaned over the back of the pilot's seat, resting his hand on the panel for support. He hadn't taken the time to remove his helmet.

"That is sufficient," Tech announced to the pilot. "I'll take it from here."

"A little busy here," Y/n stated instead. She turned the wheel to the left, taking another sharp turn which made everything in the ship turn that way. And Tech ended up leaning a little into her.

"Wrecker," Tech ordered. He moved to sit in the co-pilot seat which was where Echo usually sat. "Get to the tail gun."

There were at least six smaller ships following them at this point, firing as many rounds as possible. The Marauder swayed to the left and right, expertly dodging each blast aimed at them. In the tail gun, Wrecker got into position before firing back at the ships. He managed to hit one of them, but it wasn't enough to bring the ship down.

Back in the cockpit, Tech began pressing a few buttons on the control panel. The pilot glared at him through the corner of her eye, knowing exactly what he was trying to do. She maintained her grip on the sides of the wheel.

"Transitioning controls back to co-pilot," Tech announced. He went to press the final red button, but she swatted his hand away. "What are you doing?" Tech demanded an explanation.

"I know how to fly," Y/n said through gritted teeth. Her eyes were still facing forward as she focused on the task at hand.

"I never said you didn't," Tech informed her. "I am simply stating that I am ready to transition controls back to me as I am more capable of flying this vessel than you. It is my ship after all," Tech said as a matter of factly.

Hunter rolled his eyes in the background. He knew it was pointless to argue over the comment.

"You weren't hired to be the pilot for this mission," Y/n argued back. "I can get us out of this."

With that comment, one of the blaster fires struck the right wing which caused it to catch on fire. The two of them peered out the window, spotting the trail of black smoke falling behind the hit.

"You were saying?" Tech replied. He gestured to the damage done to his ship. She rolled her eyes at him.

A few more ships began trailing behind them. They began firing more shots towards them. There was no way one ship could take the whole fleet down.

"Uh guys," Wrecker announced from the tail gun. "We've got more incoming."

Ignoring the comment, Tech quickly transitioned controls back to his wheel before the other pilot could protest. He gripped the wheel harshly, moving the wheel to take a sharp left hand turn. The ship was forced to swerve around the side of the mountain; a few of the enemy ships crashed into the sides as a result. She switched controls back to her wheel, taking a right hand turn. The ship weaved around another mountainside.

Behind the googles of his helmet, Tech squinted his eyes in slight irritation. He changed controls once again. He quickly grabbed onto the lever, pulling it backwards so the thrusters gave another jolt of energy. Now they were flying a little faster.

Nevertheless, another blaster hit managed to strike the back of the ship. The Marauder jolted forward from the force of the blast. The two pilots lurched forward in their seats. The others continued to hold onto things for support.

"You aren't doing much better," Y/n replied snakily. She reached forward to press the button once more. She turned the wheel as far as she could, which caused the ship to completely turn around. She pulled the lever for the extra push.

"What are you doing?" Tech exclaimed. "Are you trying to get us killed?"

Down in the tail gun, Wrecker began firing at the ships flying directly in front of them. With his expertise, he struck down three ships. Those ships exploded into a million pieces, fierce flames erupting around them. The Marauder flew through the fire without taking damage.

The enemy ships needed to turn around before continuing their chase. They quickly swerved their ships. Once the ships were facing the right way, the thrusters kicked in for that extra power. And the enemy continued their pursuit.

"I will only say this one more time," Tech's modulated voice spoke through his helmet. He turned to face her in his seat. His eyes looked angry behind his googles. "Relinquish controls now."

"Over my dead body," Y/n challenged him. She didn't take her eyes off him.

In the background, Hunter and Echo seemed to raise their eyebrows at the two pilots. They looked between them, half expecting one of them to cave in and go back to flying the ship. But neither of them faltered.

"Uh guys," Omega interrupted them.

Both of them directed their line of attention back towards flying the ship. With a quick maneuver, they managed to dodge the mountain they were heading straight for at the last second. A few more ships crashed into it.

"You're both going to get us all killed if you don't figure something out," Hunter shouted behind them.

Reaching forward, Y/n went to press a few more buttons, but Tech swatted her hand away this time. He went ahead and pressed his own buttons. He was punching in the coordinates for their destination.

"You are not the best pilot in the galaxy," Y/n claimed. She glanced at him through the corner of her eye. He kept putting in the coordinates.

"Hardly a measurable cause," Tech said with a roll of his eyes in annoyance.

"You haven't made the Kessel Run in fourteen parsecs," Y/n added. It was like she was insisting that it could be measurable.

"I have a theory that it can be done in twelve," Tech stated as a matter of factly.

"I highly doubt that," Y/n chuckled at the comment.

Suddenly, Y/n pressed the wheel forward with all of her might. The ship began to descend down at a rapid pace, shifting into a nose dive position. The ground was growing closer and closer with each second. The enemy ships following right behind them, firing non-stop.

Both Hunter and Echo were holding onto panels behind them. The force of falling forwards was pushing them back. They were unable to move.

"You have to pull up--" Tech ordered in a slight panic.

"Oh for the last time," Y/n shouted over him. "I know what I'm doing!"

At the last possible second, the wonderfully skilled pilot pulled the wheel into her chest so that the ship was pulled up. It was so close to touching the ground, but it missed it by a hair. The last two ships crashed into the ground, exploding suddenly and sending debris flying.

Now that the threat of the chase was finally over, Y/n could relax in her seat a little. The rest of the squad was completely silent, realizing that she had managed to get them out of the situation with little damage in the end. Beside her, Tech kept his eye on her since he was still angry with her.

The Marauder started to climb in altitude, shifting towards the edge of the planet's atmosphere. It finally passed through the atmosphere, flying through space. The stars throughout the galaxy sparkled as the planet grew small and smaller. It was now all behind them.

"Are the coordinates to Ord Mantell in?" Y/n wondered. Her voice was so much calmer now. Her shoulders slumped at her sides. But she refused to make eye contact.

"Yes. They are in," Tech informed her softly. His eyes softened behind his helmet. He studied her carefully, trying to figure out what she was thinking in that brain of hers. He quickly shook it off, directing his attention back towards the void of space in front of them.

Without thinking, Tech and Y/n went to reach for the lever to send them into hyperspace. Their hands grazed each other's with neither of them being any closer to the lever than the other. They both awkwardly pulled their hands away upon contact.

"I'm sorry," Y/n muttered under her breath.

He wasn't sure if she was apologizing for the situation they just came out of or the situation that just occurred with the lever. Nevertheless, she reached for the lever once again, pulling it back to send the ship into hyperspace.

Back at Ord Mantell, the Bad Batch went back to Cid's Parlor. They stood on the other side of her desk, having just delivered the cargo that she paid them to retrieve. She peered into the package, checking to make sure everything was there.

Behind the group, Y/n stood there in total silence. Her eyes were trained on the floor as she shifted in her place awkwardly. She waited for their boss to address them.

Beside her, Tech stood about an arm's length away. He glanced at her through the corner of his eye, taking note of her odd demeanor. He raised his finger and opened his mouth to say something to her, but he was rudely cut off.

"Looks like everything is here," Cid announced. She closed the cargo container. She began rummaging through her drawers, collecting the correct amount of credits to pay both parties.

Now Y/n went to take a few steps forward and made her way through the members of the squad. She stood in front of the desk. Her boss went ahead and placed a handful of credits in her hand.

"That is your cut," Cid told her. She handed the rest of the credits to Hunter. "And here is your cut. I'll call you when I have another job," Cid claimed.

There was a brief moment of silence in the room. Cid went to cross her arms over her chest. She narrowed her eyes at the company of six standing in front of her.

"You guys work well together," Cid said honestly. "You should work together more often."

In response, Y/n breathed a scoff under her breath. The boys turned their heads to look at her, slightly surprised at her reaction. She shook her head in denial.

"Yeah. Like that's ever going to happen," Y/n rolled her eyes at the notion.

Without hesitation, she spun around on the heels of her feet in order to head towards the door. She purposely bumped into Tech's shoulder a little too harshly. She left the room with the door closing behind her.

"What's wrong with her?" Cid scoffed. She looked at the rest of the squad for some form of explanation, but none of them said anything. "Fine! Be all quiet and mysterious. See if I care," Cid said.

By the time the Bad Batch left Cid's office, Y/n was nowhere to be found in the bar. They went to sit down at the bar so they could order drinks to celebrate another successful mission. They sat in complete silence, thinking about what transpired during the mission.

"Where do you think she's gone?" Echo wondered.

Though they never pulled missions together, the Bad Batch knew that the pilot worked for Cid and was stationed at Ord Mantell. They had seen her quite often over the past few months. They had grown familiar of her. And now they worried about her.

"The odds are that she returned to her flat," Tech explained. He pushed the bridge of his googles up to be more secure on his face. He kept his focus on his data pad.

"Probably," Hunter shrugged his shoulders. "But it's late. Which means it's dark out."

"Astute observation," Tech claimed sarcastically. He gave a single nod, but didn't take his eyes off his data pad.

"And she's walking back to her flat...at the edge of town...late at night," Hunter further explained.

"She will be fine," Tech stated. He knew where he was going with this. "She is always saying how she can take care of herself and doesn't need our help. Why would that change now?"

The other members remained silent. They turned their heads to take quick glances at one another. With a silent agreement, Hunter rose to his feet and went to stand by Tech. He roughly grabbed his shoulders and hoisted him out of his seat, much to his dismay.

"Go find her. Make sure she gets home safe. And apologize to her," Hunter ordered.

"I do not see why I have to be the one to apologize when I did noth--" Tech began. He was quickly cut off.

"Tech," Hunter said in a warning tone of voice. He crossed his arms over his chest, showing that he meant business.

"Fine," Tech said in defeat. "I will apologize."

With some hesitation, Tech grabbed his helmet and fitted it over his head. He began making his way towards the door of the parlor, leaving the rest of his crew behind. He walked through the deserted streets of Ord Mantell, passing a few shady people in the process.

Now Tech knew that she lived near the edge of town because she had once mentioned it during a conversation. Besides that, Tech really didn't know where to look and simply hoped he'd bump into her before she got home so he'd know she was safe. He passed by a few alleys, peeking through each one briefly.

The Marauder was parked in a hanger bay only a few blocks away from the parlor. Just as Tech passed by the hanger, he heard a familiar voice coming from his very own ship. He backtracked by taking two steps backwards. He peered into the hangar bay to glance at his ship.

Stepping into the bay, Tech tilted his head to the side in slight curiosity. The right wing of the ship began to move downwards until it lay completely horizontal. A few seconds later, Y/n began descending down the ramp with a toolbox in hand. She walked over to the wing of the ship.

Upon seeing her, Tech sharply inhaled. He felt the back of his throat close up and his shoulders tensed at his sides. He hesitantly took a few steps forward, fiddling with his fingers nervously.

Reaching upwards, Y/n placed the single toolbox onto the flat surface of the ship's wing. She proceeded to grab onto the wing before hoisting herself up onto it. She climbed to the center of the wing to assess the damage inflicted in the crossfire.

At this point, Y/n had no idea that he was also in the hanger bay with her. She opened the toolbox, rummaging through to find the right tool. The damage done to the right wing was a massive gaping hole with burnt edges from the fire. It would eventually need a panel welded to cover it up again. But for now, she focused on the internal repairs.

Thankfully, from the assessment, nothing major had been hit. A few bolts had gotten loose and a few parts needed to be replaced. She focused on that for now.

After grabbing a socket spanner, Y/n leaned down to place her arm into the gaping hole of the wing. It went so far down that her chest was practically pressed against the surface of the wing. She used the spanner to tighten some bolts.

"What...are you doing?" Tech decided to finally announce his presence. He stepped forward until he stood in the light coming from the opening of the hanger bay.

Upon hearing that familiar voice, Y/n only rolled her eyes to herself. She continued her work as she preferred to focus on repairs rather than on him. She grunted softly, making sure that first bolt was nice and tight.

"What do you want Tech?" Y/n wondered. She pulled her arm out of the hole to assess her work. She didn't even bother to glance towards him, knowing he would have sent her a look of disapproval for working on his ship.

Slowly, Tech began to lower his gaze to the floor. He contemplated his next words carefully, fighting the urge to lash out at her for meddling with his ship. He liked things to be a certain way and would have much preferred if he did the actual repairs. Now Tech didn't want to fight with her so he changed his approach.

"I analyzed that you left the parlor on your own and thought it would be better if I accompany you back home," Tech explained. She huffed at his answer.

"I've told you before," Y/n began. "I can--"

"Take care of yourself," Tech finished. He adjusted the lenses of his goggles though he still wore his helmet. He noticed how she fell silent. "Yes, I've gathered that much."

"Why are you really out here?" Y/n wondered. She went to lean down again in order to tighten more bolts.

"I...could ask you the same," Tech replied slowly. He honestly felt like this was the first civil conversation they had ever had.

"I wanted to make some repairs on your precious ship since it was apparently my fault," Y/n claimed. Her tone sounding a little harsher now. She tightened two more bolts in the process.

"That is not what I meant," Tech interjected. He took a step forward. He gazed up at her figure perched on the wing, attempting to reason with her. "I was...caught up in the moment. Shouldn't have said those things," Tech confessed quietly.

"Well, don't worry. As soon as I finish up these repairs, I'll leave and you'll never have to see me again," Y/n responded.

For some reason, Tech couldn't combat a response to her comment. He simply nodded his head understandingly. He lowered his gaze to stare down at the ground and allowed her to finish her repairs in silence. He thought for some time how he could fix this relationship since it wasn't his strong suit. Fixing things was more his style.

"Blast," Y/n's voice pulled him out of his train of thought. He glanced up at her.

The sleeve of her blue flight suit had gotten in the way of her repairs. She had rolled her sleeves up to keep the material out of her way, but the sleeves continued to fall back down to her wrists every time she placed her arm in the hole. She pulled back and rose to her feet.

Without hesitation, Y/n's hands flew to the top button of her flight suit. She began to undue the buttons in which she revealed the black tank top underneath. All the while, Tech studied her carefully as her nimble fingers worked steadily. His pupils dilated behind those goggles of his.

Upon reaching her waistline, Y/n had stopped unbuttoning and shrugged the suit off her shoulders. She tied the sleeves around her waist. She dropped to her knees to continue working without the distraction of her clothes getting in the way.

Slowly, Tech raised his hand to the side of his head and clicked the bottom to save the recording to the drive. He records everything and he was certainly glad he recorded that. He wanted to revisit the recording later for his own 'research' purposes.

"There," Y/n sighed. She sat back on her knees, wiping her dirty hands on the pants of her flight suit. "Repairs are finished."

Naturally, Y/n began to pack away the tools she used and placed them back into the box. She closed the lid of the toolbox, tossing it over the edge of the wing for it to land on the ground with a thump. She then proceeded to jump down off the wing of the ship, landing a little hard so her knees buckled slightly.

Just like she promised, Y/n had every intention of leaving the hanger bay so that they'd never have to see her again. She went to walk away, but just as she passed beside him, Tech reached out and grabbed her forearm. She halted in her steps.

Neither of them could look at each other. She felt his gloved fingers digging into her bare skin, but not hard enough that it would leave marks. She slowly turned to look at him, but he kept his head down.

"I...really came here to apologize," Tech confessed. When Tech lifted his gaze to meet her face, he saw how her eyebrows went up in slight surprise. It definitely caught her off guard.

"I see," Y/n thought about his words carefully. She shifted her balance from one foot to the other. "So all those things you said back on Cassander where just...what?"

He closed his eyes, seriously regretting everything he said. "Like I said earlier, in the moment, I was incredibly frustrated with you."

"Because I wouldn't give up the controls?" Y/n said flatly.

"No, because I recognize that my levels of dopamine are elevated when I'm around you and I distance myself from you in order to prevent that from happening,” Tech confessed before he could even stop himself.

But now, hearing what he just said, Tech quickly averted his gaze away from her. He was thankful to be wearing his helmet so she wouldn't see how bright his cheeks had gotten. He released his grip on her arm, letting it fall back down to his side.

For once, Y/n actually understood what he said. Her eyebrows rose in surprise at this sudden confession. She definitely did not expect him to blurt out his emotions that night, especially after their fight on the ship. She knew better than to tease him at a time like this.

"I-I don't understand why," Tech said rather sadly. That was the first time that he'd spoken those words out loud.

What broke her heart was the tone of defeat laced with his words. It told her that he'd been wrestling with these foreign emotions and thoughts for some time. He didn't know how to react around her and so he acted with defense. He pushed those feeling away, fighting against it.

Hesitantly, Y/n lifted her hands to the sides of his helmet. She went to remove his helmet slowly, revealing his face to her for the first time today. She tossed the helmet to the side without a care in the world, but he still refused to meet her gaze.

"You are probably repulsed by me," Tech began. "From the way I treated you and the words I said to--"

But Tech wasn't able to finish that sentence. Because Y/n had taken his face in her hands and leaned upwards to press her lips against his own. He froze in his place.

His eyes were wide open in surprise. His hands were elevated on either side of him because he didn't know what to do with them. He could feel the softness of her lips still against his own. Before Tech had the chance to process what was happening, Y/n pulled away from him.

The two of them were standing so close together; the chests being pressed against one another's. Their breath mingled as their noses bumped together once or twice. He glanced down at her lips because he wanted nothing more than to taste them once more.

His hands found their way down to her hips with one hand sneaking around her lower back. He pressed that hand into her back which brought her body even closer to his. She released a small gasp.

"Apology accepted," Y/n whispered to him. She played with the edge of the plastoid armor on his chest. "And I'm sorry for the way I acted towards you."

"Why cyare?" Tech wondered. He raised his hand to the side of her face, tucking a single strand of hair behind her ear. He held his hand against her cheek.

"I should have given up the controls. You are the better pilot and it is your ship," Y/n explained with a shake of the head.

"I am not the better pilot," Tech stated firmly.

There was a moment of silence between them. "I can't make split second decisions and calculations like you do when you're flying."

"Well, I've never done the Kessel Run." Tech argued back playfully. He smiled down at her. "At least, not in twelve parsecs."

"Fourteen," Y/n corrected him. "I did it in fourteen."

"Fine. Fourteen," Tech caved in.

Slowly, Tech tilted his head to the side and began to lean down with every intention of kissing her again. But the two of them were interrupted when someone cleared their throat over by the entrance of the hanger bay. The two of them quickly pulled apart and turned to face whoever had interrupted them.

The other members of the Bad Batch stood looking at them near the entrance of the hanger. It was initially Hunter who had cleared his throat to garner their attention; he stood with his arms folded across his chest just as a disapproving father would. Beside him, Wrecker and Omega were practically squealing with each other. They couldn't contain their excitement. And Echo averted his gaze in an awkward manner.

"Care to explain yourselves?" Hunter hinted. He glanced between the two of them with a playful smirk on his face.

"I think they finally confessed that they like each other," Wrecker interrupted. His words coming out louder than anticipated. He nudged Echo who stood beside him.

"You think?" Echo glanced at him.

"It's exciting, isn't it?" Omega smiled at them.

Meanwhile, Tech quickly collected his helmet off the ground and placed it over his head once again. He hoped it would cover the blush creeping up his neck to his face. He knew he wouldn't hear the end of the taunting from his brothers anytime soon.

"Well boys. It looks like we got another member on our crew," Hunter said slowly. "Welcome to the Bad Batch."

#the bad batch #the clone wars #tech bad batch #tech x reader #tech x y/n #tech x you #star wars #the marauder ship #tech oneshot #tech fluff #tech angst #tech imagine #hunter #crosshair #omega #wrecker #echo #tech

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mountkennedie · 3 months ago

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Evening Stroll

Anakin x fem!reader

Summary: Anakins first fall

Warnings: none

A.n. THIS IS MY FAVORITE THING I'VE EVER WRITTEN EVER EVER EVER EVER EVERRRRRRR

Anakin finally got some highly needed time off. And you both knew exactly where you wanted to spend it.

It was truly a beautiful sight on Naboo. The leaves were changing from green to rich orange and red. They were scattered in every street and on every building. Anakin had never seen anything like what was before him.

"Is this natural?" He asked when the ship landed on the landing pad. It was by his expert piloting that you were able to find the pad at all. Itself was covered in fallen leaves.

You smiled, "Every year. Though more leaves fall with the years. I don't think the trees ever stop growing."

"It's beautiful." He walked slower than usual through the city. Hand in yours, but eyes looking all around. There was a small smile on his face as he gazed. He looked so at peace. "I've heard of this season. Autumn. But I've never been to a planet that has experienced it yet."

"Really? Even after exploring the galaxy on jedi business?"

He shook his head. "We don't really 'explore' on business. Really, just go to specific locations and wait. But even then, most places have extreme seasons or weather conditions." His tone took a sadder dip. You squeezed his hand in response.

You both made it to the house you shared. Before opening the door, Anakin turned to look at you, "Can we come back out this evening?" His voice was full of longing.

"Of course we can. Strolling in the final sunrays is my favorite thing to do around this time of year."

The time had come. It was 5 pm in the afternoon, and you and Anakin were getting ready for your walk. You noticed Anakin only wore a long-sleeve and some simple pants. "Oh no, put a robe on. The air only gets crisper as the sun sets."

"Yes ma'am," he smirked before grabbing a simlle robe from the closet. It was a dark green and matched yours. He came back out, and you nodded in approval.

He stood at the door waiting for you. Placing the lid on your thermos, you took it with you and held onto his arm. Once the door was open, you both felt the chill nipping at your noses, and you walked out into the world.

"I see why you made me wear this. I wasn't aware the temperature would drop this fast." His breath made a little cloud in the cool air. "But I love it even more."

You chuckled to yourself and then opened the thermos to take a sip of your drink. You sighed as the warm liquid defrosted you on the inside. The smell of the cinnamon and apples inside perked up Anakin's senses.

"What have you got there?" He asked in a gentle tone.

"Apple cider. It's a seasonal drink. Try some," you offered him the thermos.

"It smells delicious," he took a sip. "And tastes delicious," he took two and then tree gulps.

"Stop it!" You had to rip the thermos from his hands. Anakins' laughter hit your ears like the best song you've ever heard. But you still had to give him a light smack on the arm for nearly devouring the drink you planned to SHARE.

"Follow me. I know a place you'd love." You were a little nervous at first. The sun was beginning to set. You didn't want Anakin to miss the beauty he was about to see.

He held your hand in his as you guided him to this new location. Your house was on the outskirts of town, so finding solitude was very easy. You had found this spot the last time the two of you were here. You planned to show him but didn't know the perfect time to until now.

There was a singular bench on an empty hill. It was high enough that you were able to see a bit of the local village. It faced west, so the sunset was in perfect view.

Anakin and you cuddled close together. His arm draped around you, and you rested your head on his chest. You finished off what was left in the thermos, then set it on the ground between yalls feet.

Anakin, a slow kiss on your head. His hand rubbed small circles on your arm. "You know how to pick 'em," he whispered. You hummed in response. He was silent for a moment, just watching the sun dip beneath the horizon. The oranges and reds matched in the sky matched the scenery below. A small "I love you" was heard from under his breath.

"I love you too," you sighed contently. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest lulled you into a place of complete peace. A peace you knew he also shared.

The following day, you both woke up on that same bench. Except Anakin had laid back fully on the bench. He had you on top of him, snuggled into his jacket. His head was angled in your hair. His sleepy eyes met yours as you looked up.

"Ani, it's morning," you said groggily. You tried to sit up, but he pulled you back down. He bent his left leg, caging you in.

"Good morning," he muttered.

"We slept outside all night, Ani."

"We did," you both stared at each other before breaking into a fit of laughter. Anakin rubbed his eyes and then sat up, taking you with him. "We should do this again."

"No, we should not," You shook your head playfully. "That's how you get sick. But... I'd be willing to show you more fall things people do here. If you'd be up for it."

"Yes," he looked so serious. Maybe this will be the beginning of a love of this season for him.

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theclairvoyage · 5 months ago

Text

Mermaid Purse - Part 1 of 3

AO3 | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Marine Biologist!Reader x Joel Miller

Summary: Summertime in Clearwater, Florida means no school, which means instead of teaching Marine Biology at a local university, you're bartending at The Rusty Sawfish, a bar located on the marina of Clearwater Beach. The owner's friend, who happens to be a sexy, suarthy Texan contractor, moves to town to start over and help his friend with a project, stumbling across you in the process... and you thought summer in Florida couldn't get hotter.

Warnings for Part 1: Minors DNI! adult language, alcohol consumption, sexual tension, reader is female, reader is able-bodied, unspecified age gap, allusions to smut, kissing, groping, mentions of threesomes. Please lmk if I missed anything!

WC: 9k

If Florida was good at one thing besides starring in strange headlines, it was bringing the heat.

Summer had its bags packed and was ready to leave Clearwater Beach. Not soon enough, you thought, as the humid, subtropical heat of late July in Southern Florida drenched your skin in sticky sweat. The salty breeze from the Gulf of Mexico made it bearable, as did the marine life.

You had loved animals as long as you can remember. Growing up in the Midwest, you became acclimated to the four-legged ruminates and vast birds of the region. The closest thing you had to the ocean were stinky, dirt-sand beaches tucked away near state parks and curled highways. Oh, and the occasional zoo. Then grew your zeal for the ocean and the creatures that called it home.

That is, until you moved to Florida to study marine biology at the University of Florida, when that zeal exploded into full-on wonderment.

Some of your fondest memories of university were spending innumerable mornings out on the open sea, tagging sharks, rays, and skates for research. As you learned more about these gorgeous creatures, known in the scholarly world as the elasmobranchs, a feeling of protection grew.

And as always, the more you learned about animals, the more you learned about humans. Some species of sharks have been fished to near-extinction, and over the course of your four years in undergrad, you bore witness to and swore to change that.

Now, as a Professor of Marine Biology at a new college in Clearwater devoted exclusively to the study of marine life, you do your best to imprint that mindset in your students. Though in summertime, when the students are absent, you’re a full-time bartender at a local marina. The double income in the summer is cushy, and it’s a nice change from teaching—not to mention the people watching.

That’s where you’re headed now, at 3:00 PM on a Friday—The Rusty Sawfish. The name is what drew you in, obviously, but the ease and satisfaction of the job are what keep you. The owner, Gil—another marine pun-slash-name—loves having you around, even if it’s only in the summertime. He calls you during the school year to see how life is, and if you can pick up a random shift here and there. A former Air Force pilot from Chicago, Gil spent a good chunk of his midlife in Southern Florida and opened The Rusty Sawfish after retired life bored him.

You turn onto Clearwater Memorial Causeway, a long bridge that connects mainland Florida to Clearwater Beach Island, where the bar is located. You’ve not once grown tired of the view—beautiful, blue-green waters, white sand beaches, swaying palm trees, and endless sunshine. Sometimes, you’ll catch an occasional shark dorsal fin cruising along calmer waters or a bottlenose dolphin breaching at the surface.

The Rusty Sawfish lies in Clearwater Municipal Marina, surrounded by several restaurants, hotels, other bars, and tourist spots. Like many Southern Florida beach cities, the population is a revolving door. You don’t mind it, though it’s not the same close-knit community as your hometown in Nebraska.

You park on the street and stroll up to the bar, shooing some laughing gulls from the sidewalk. The tourists here love to feed them, and they feel comfortable in human spaces. You check your watch—two minutes to spare before you’re “late”, though Gil would never call you out. He’s just happy you’re there.

The bar is one of the few out here that has large, glass garage doors that can open and enclose the place, which gives it an advantage in case of bad weather. The inside is modern, unlike many marina bars that are filled with worn wooden floors and hut-like roofs. The natural lighting inside is beautiful, no thanks to the big windows flanking the front. The long u-shaped bar has enough comfortable space for 4-5 bartenders at once, which is sometimes doubled on busy summer days.

You step in and walk directly to the back office to drop your purse and clock in. Gil, perched in his old desk chair and staring at his ancient computer in the stuffy office, looks up from the screen, readers glasses threatening to slip from the edge of his nose. You chuckle.

“Afternoon, kiddo,” he greets you, smile crinkling his tan, leathery face.

“Afternoon, Gil. How’s it been today?”

“Same shit. Big group of fishermen stopped here earlier and are still here. May need to cut ‘em off soon if they haven’t started laying off the booze,” he groans, scribbling something on his legal pad. A pencil and paper guy, Gil would still be using an old-fashioned book balance if it weren’t for you. Though he understands that electronic bookkeeping is a lifesaver, he’s skeptical of computers—and terrible at using them.

“Sounds good. Just me for a while?” You ask, setting your things in one of the desk drawers and punching in on the time clock. You can’t remember who was at the bar when you walked in.

“Georgia is here, and we got 2 more coming in for the evening. Shaping up to be a great night,” he says, returning to stare dead-faced at the computer. Stifling a chuckle, you nod and exit the office.

Georgia, the lone bartender, is quite happy to see you as she wipes off the countertop of the bar. She’s a close friend of yours—you two met here at the bar several years ago and share a love for the ocean and its creatures. She’s a fresh college graduate and a few years your junior.

“Hey! So glad you’re here!” She squeaks, giving you a quick hug. She’s always been a touchy-feely girl, unlike you—though it doesn’t bother you.

“Rough lunch shift?” You tease, checking the ice bins and refrigerators for stock. She comes up close to your ear and lowers her voice.

“Those fucking old men have been ruthless. I made Gil take care of their last couple rounds because I can’t deal with the catcalling,” she hisses. Before you can scan the bar to eye the table, she stops you.

“Don’t,” she warns, “They had a field day when you walked in. I’m shocked you didn’t notice!”

Curbing the urge to roll your eyes, you nod. “Where are they seated? Maybe we should just give Gil the entire table,” you suggest.

“Underneath the big TV. They insisted on sitting there so they could play Keno and watch baseball,” she groans.

“Ah, yes. America’s favorite pastimes,” you quip. Georgia cackles.

“I’ll stock quick. Need any of the taps changed?” you ask her, grabbing a sticky note and pen by the POS system. Bar preference is to have each new shift stock everything once they clock in, which makes the rest of the day a breeze. Georgia nods.

“I know we’re running low on Miller—that damn table has been guzzling it all day,” she gripes. You giggle.

“I’ll be back shortly,” you say, heading to the back to grab bottles, cans, and change the Miller tap. It’s quick work for you and you’re back behind the counter in ten minutes.

“You ready for a break, Georg?” You ask her, preparing your side of the bar with clean glasses and towels.

“Not yet, maybe in about an hour once Gil is done trying to fill a single spreadsheet on Excel,” she jokes, making both of you laugh. “Plus, I am not leaving you out here alone with those weirdos.”

“Is that one coming up here now?” You tilt your head toward a pudgy, middle-aged, sunburnt man with a ratty Budweiser shirt and an awful sunglasses tan approaching the bar. He’s not stumbling, but the dumb grin on his face indicates that he’s feeling pretty good. Georgia confirms with an annoyed grunt.

“Lovely ladies, can I get a refill of Miller?” He chirps, leaning against the bar countertop and propping his glass up.

“Sure. I’m gonna give you a new glass, though,” Georgia responds, taking the dirty one and putting it in the black bin for used dishes. Budweiser Man groans.

“Aw, I was tryin’ to help you, sweetie,” he says, loud voice enough to curdle cold milk. He snaps his eyes to you.

“Wow. Two gorgeous girls running the bar? I think we’re in trouble,” he jokes, punctuating his sentence with a belly laugh. The urge to rip his ratty shirt off his potbelly and embarrass him floods your system momentarily. You settle for a fake smile instead.

“Sounds like you could use some water,” you joke, still fake smiling at him. Languidly, he tries to pout at you, but the buzz makes the shift in facial expressions difficult.

“Trust me, sir—a day out in this sun, you’ll want water with each drink,” you add, getting a glass ready for him.

“Then what’s the point of the beer, hunny?” he whines. Pet names drive you mad, especially from drunk old men. Patience diminishing by the second, you inhale deeply and fill the glass with water with the soda gun.

“Just making sure our patrons are safe, sir. Want to make sure you’re able to come back,” you respond, handing him a water as Georgia hands him a full pint of Miller.

“Sure thing, gorgeous,” he says, winking at you. Gross. The number of middle-aged men that have flirted with Georgia and you from the other side of the bar is probably pretty high, but most don’t give you the creeps. Georgia waits until he’s back at the table before sneering.

“Jesus, what a fucking creep,” she seethes. “I’d love to spit in his drink.”

“Easy, Georg. Don’t lose it over Porky Pig,” you quip, followed by a boisterous laugh from her.

The night is busy, but smooth. A weekend fishing tournament at the beach brings in tons of salty, sunburnt folks. Two other bartenders, Mike and Rand, come in around 7:00 PM to help with the dinner rush. They’re college kids that double as bouncers, which would’ve been helpful earlier. The annoying table of anglers left around 5:00 PM after Gil warned them that he’d give them the boot if they didn’t start drinking water. Porky and his crew left reluctantly, though not before coming up to give you and Georgia big tips and his phone number scrawled on a receipt.

Just in case you two like to tag team, it said. Both of you suppressed a wave of nausea after reading that.

The bar closes at 2:00 AM most nights during the summer, and from 10 PM-1:30 AM, the bar is hopping. Lots of anglers and tourists flock to the bar for the big TVs and fancy drinks, many of which you helped Gil curate. Around 11:00, you finally get a chance to take a break. Feeling sluggish, you walk over to the nearby convenience store to grab a coffee—caffeine doesn’t do much for you, but it’ll give you the boost you need to reach close.

A can of double shot espresso with cream calls your name, and you’re eager to crack it open. Forgetting to look before leaving the aisle, you bump into something tall and hard. The can falls and busts open on the floor, spraying coffee everywhere. Fuck.

“Oh shit,” you say, realizing that you slammed into some guy. “I’m so sorry!” Quickly, you crouch to pick up the fallen can from the cold linoleum floor.

The voice that responds wakes you up more than any espresso could. “S’alright, miss. You alright?”

You look up from the puddle of coffee and see a good-sized, handsome-as-fuck stranger standing above you. Middle-aged; curly, brown hair with flecks of gray; tan, muscled arms; big hands; warm, calming chocolate eyes. He looks so good that you’re frozen, unable to reply. He cocks an eyebrow at you before a small grin etches his face.

“Uh, yeah—sorry. I’m in a hurry, I didn’t mean to bump into you. I should’ve paid attention,” you respond, panicked. You scan the aisle for paper towels or something to clean up the mess.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll go get an employee to clean this up,” the man assures you, his silky, Southern voice placating you. You stand slowly, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. A slow burn creeps up your neck and cheeks as his gaze sweeps over you.

“I’ll be right back,” he promises, and you look up at him just before he turns away. Fuck, he’s gorgeous. His irises are lined with specks of amber, like gold flakes. He almost looks worried.

A few moments later, he returns with an older lady dressed in a convenience store uniform, sporting a fluffy white towel. She smiles warmly at you. Hyper focused on not looking at the handsome stranger, you smile back at her and hold your hand out.

“I’ll clean it, I made the mess. I’d want the same if someone made a mess where I worked,” you offer. Both the employee and the man laugh. She tilts her head at you as if she’s trying to recognize you.

“You work at The Rusty Sawfish, don’t you?” She asks, watching you wipe up the puddle of coffee.

“Guilty. I’m on my break right now, though I seem to have wasted it being an idiot,” you say, and the two strangers chuckle again. The man’s deep, rumbly laugh makes your stomach flip.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, sweetie. You deserve a break! Let me finish and take a can on the house,” she says. Her kindness mirrors that of most residents here—always helping others, stranger or not.

“Oh, I couldn’t. Unless you came to the bar for a free drink. Both of you,” you add, forcing yourself to make eye contact with the handsome stranger.

The way he stares at you makes you writhe. His gaze is captivating. His eyes circle around your eyes and your lips, unmoving—like you’re the only person in the room. Time pauses as you both exchange stares. He’s the first to speak.

“I’ll be there,” he says, half-smirking at you. You forgot about the convenience store employee until she speaks again.

“Late night here for me, but I’ll stop by this weekend! Have a great night, sweetie!”

“Thank you both,” you say, grabbing a new can and waving as you walk backward toward the exit. You don’t miss the way Sexy Stranger watches you leave, but you miss the way his eyes traverse your frame when you turn around.

Shivers blitz your spine as you walk back to work, thinking of how he looked at you. He was one of the most attractive men you’d seen here, which says a lot. Southern Florida beach cities are ripe with hot men from all walks of life. His accent was Southern, but not Floridian—more mainland, like Oklahoma or Texas. Before you can think on it further, you trot back into the bar.

Thankfully, there isn’t a huge rush of patrons. Georgia, Mike, and Rand are moving around behind the bar. You hurry and step behind the u-shaped area, smoothing your hair out of your face. Georgia approaches you, grinning.

“Sorry—I made a complete fool of myself at the convenience store and spilled coffee everywhere, even ran into this sexy guy in the aisle,” You lament, redoing your now sweaty and frizzy updo. She laughs.

“Did you get his number, though?” Georgia asks. “Also, how sexy are we talking?”

You widen your eyes and whistle lowly. “Georg—I’m telling you, he was sexy as fuck. Southern type—tall, dark, and handsome. He said he was coming here.”

She claps her hands together giddily. “Hell yes. Surprised he didn’t follow you right then and there,” she adds with a wink. You roll your eyes.

“Nah, but I’m sure he’ll do that to you when he sees you,” you hypothesize. Georgia is beautiful—typical tan, blonde Florida beach babe with a killer body. She’s bubbly, too, with a personality that matches the Clearwater sunshine, and she’s smart. She shushes you, frowning.

“Um… have you seen yourself? You’re a fucking knockout. How many guys have tried to get us to do a threesome with them? That should tell you everything,” Georgia reminds you. You shrug, unsure how to answer—she’s right.

“That’s what I thought, Miss I Don’t Know I’m Beautiful. Now shut up and help me get the drinks ready for this table,” she says, giving you an air kiss on the cheek. Georg knows how to cheer you up—her sunshine personality is contagious.

Several cocktails and minutes later, you head back to the cooler to restock the bar fridges. When you return, a seat at the bar is occupied with a familiar curly-haired man peering up at the television behind the bar. He’s not facing you, thankfully—the way you froze was embarrassing enough. Coolly, you hoist the bin of alcohol on your shoulder and stride toward the bar. The fridge you need to restock doesn’t face him, so you have some time to plan a greeting while you refill the beers. Georgia pokes your side as she walks up to him, informing you that she knows it’s your sexy mystery man.

“Welcome in! Have you been here before?” She chirps, handing him a menu. He shakes his head and scans the sheets quickly before folding it up and handing it back to her.

“No, ma’am. Was advised to come here by one of the employees,” he croons. You feel his stare boring a hole in your head and decide it’s time to acknowledge him.

Standing up, you face him and hope your cheeks don’t burn bright red. He’s smiling at you, and fuck, that smile is something you won’t forget. Pearly whites on full display, crinkled but twinkling eyes, a salt and pepper beard, and tan skin complement the face staring at yours.

Speak, you idiot.

“Hi again. Glad you made it. I wondered where the coffee smell came from.” Your wit pulls a boisterous laugh from him, one that does something tingly to your insides. Georgia interrupts.

“I’ll take over the stocking while you help this gentleman,” she says, pinching your side as she walks away. The man’s eyes don’t follow her, which surprises you—they’re glued to you. Words exit your mouth before you can ruminate further.

“What can I get you? I take it you’re not a fruity cocktail kind of guy,” you tease, smirking at him. He shakes his head and chuckles.

“Correct, ma’am. Is the whiskey here all you’ve got?” He nods to the shelves behind you.

“Not quite. The owner is a whiskey aficionado and has some reserve bottles in the back that he saves for special customers,” you say, putting a hand next to your mouth as you fake whisper. The lopsided grin returns on his face, sending your pulse into overdrive.

“Would gettin’ spilled on by an employee qualify me as a special customer?” He wisecracks, arching a brow at you. You slump your shoulders in mock defeat.

“I suppose. What’s your favorite?” His jaw ticks back and forth as he ponders.

“Too hard to say. Not a picky guy. Been cravin’ some Eagle Rare,” his velvet voice replies, the soundwaves tickling the hair on your ears.

“I’ll go ask the boss. Be right back.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sexy Stranger replies, watching you leave. Undiscovered by you, he’s turned to watch you walk to Gil’s office, his pulse picking up at what he sees.

He won’t lie to himself—he’s drabbled in some younger women over the years, many of whom were nothing but a one-night stand, a pretty young thing to slip inside and make him feel younger for a few hours. But you’re different. Stunning, yes. Charming, funny, and mysterious, too—like you’re looking at the world from a different dimension. He senses a force field around you, though, one he worries you won’t let him invade.

You step out of Gil’s office with a dusty bottle of Eagle Rare, aged ten years. Gil was astounded that someone requested this, and had he not been contemplating ways to destroy his computer, he’d have joined the Sexy Stranger for a glass.

As you return to the bar, you admire the man’s full head of brunette curls, and the random spots kissed with gray locks. His shoulders are brawny and expansive, pulling taut the flannel fabric between his scapulas. Atop them is a thick, ropy neck, with a jutting Adam’s apple and tan flesh you’d like to sink your teeth into. He was tall, but not overtly so—just enough to complement his muscly build.

The way he leans back in the chair and sees his surroundings exudes a calm tenacity, but the way his eyes smolder suggests a tendency to be ravenous. You wonder if that duality is something he wants to show you. Warmth surges through your veins as you fantasize about a complete stranger, wracking your core and igniting thoughts and feelings you haven’t had in a long time.

Certainly, you’d been with men since moving to Clearwater, and though the options were vast, the likelihood of something lasting was minimal. Thus, you chose to keep interactions with men somewhat superficial, an imaginary arm constantly protruding from you to forbid anything further than flirtatious banter. This attractive, swarthy man, however, had his wrist wrapped around that arm and was threatening to rip it from you—the thought frightened and excited you.

Momentarily, you ignore the rush of adrenaline as you return behind the bar and into his view. Like a magnet, he latches onto you at once, eyes burning your face and figure. Using a damp towel behind the counter, you swipe dust off the bottle and set it in front of him.

“Here you are, sir. One dusty bottle of Eagle Rare.” Sexy Stranger smiles at the bottle, wrapping a large hand around the base and examining the label.

“’S the good stuff,” he murmurs, voice dropping deeper than you thought possible. The pitch twists your insides. In an effort to subdue your racing mind and pulse, you force a smirk and start wiping off the counter.

You feel the man’s eyes snap to you, melting your resolve with a fiery intensity. Suddenly, you’re unable to continue moving the towel, and resign to meeting his eyes. Smoldering is the only way to describe the way he’s looking at you.

That familiar rush of heat wraps around the base of your throat and underneath the fabric of your now-suffocating, loose tee shirt. Instinctively, you fiddle with the collar and pull it down slightly, trying to let out some of the hot air trapped inside, unaware of the fact that you’ve exposed some skin to him. In any other situation, it would’ve been a harmless gesture, but here, it only spurs on his imagination. His pupils dilate ever so slightly at the sight of your collarbone, complemented with a silver pendant necklace.

“What’s that necklace you got there?” Sexy Stranger asks. Involuntarily, your fingers latch onto the shark charm and twiddle it back and forth. He’s still watching.

“Oh, it’s a shark. Can’t remember the last time I took this thing off—I forget about it,” you say, surprised that you can form coherent sentences right now under his hot gaze.

He makes eye contact with you and raises an eyebrow. “Why a shark?”

“The short version is that it’s my favorite animal.”

He tilts his head at you, jaw ticking again. Your eyes latch onto the strong muscles moving it back and forth, flexing underneath his temples.

“And the long version?”

You cock an eyebrow, mirroring him, and grab a short glass, placing it on a coaster in front of him. “Before I delve into that, how do you like your whiskey?”

He chuckles, deep and rumbly. “Neat, sweetheart.”

The pet name eviscerates your stomach. You gulp without meeting his gaze, aware that he’s staring at you still. You pour him a perfect glass of bourbon neat and push the coaster toward him. As you let go, he reaches for the glass, fingertips brushing the tops of your fingers.

As if you touched the metal prongs of a plug, you whip your hand back. The feeling of his skin on yours was nothing short of electric. He misreads your reaction.

“Sorry ‘bout that, didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he says, brown eyes no longer smoldering but concerned.

“Oh no, it’s not that, just wasn’t expecting it,” you stammer, not wanting to give him the wrong idea. Ironic. He lets it pass, for now.

“So—the long story?” He takes a generous sip of the amber liquid, swishing it around his mouth as he watches you. You place your palms down on the counter and smile at him.

“Long story is I’m a Professor of Marine Biology at a local university here. I’ve been studying sharks for a long time now. They are beautiful, brilliant creatures that have evolved to near perfection. I do what I can to protect them—they have been fished relentlessly.”

Sexy Stranger is in awe of you, struck by your eloquence, intelligence, and beauty. He takes another sip, never dragging his eyes from yours.

“Wow,” he says, raising both eyebrows as he sets the glass down. “Just one question.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. The two of you are getting good at this nonverbal communication.

“You consider that the long version?”

His humor catches you off guard and a goofy, boisterous laugh escapes you. For the second time now, he flashes a full smile at you. He likes that sound.

Suddenly, a phone rings nearby. He frowns and fishes a small, old iPhone from his front jeans pocket and squints at the screen. He grimaces as he stuffs it back, shifting uncomfortably in the chair to make it fit.

“Sweetheart, I need to run. Lemme settle up for the glass,” he says, the pet name stimulating your pulse again.

“Sure thing. Gil said to come back any time—the bottle is basically yours,” you say, winking at him as you print his receipt. His heartbeat does some racing of its own at the gesture. He tears his eyes from you to fish for his wallet and throw some bills on top of the receipt.

“Will do. I’ll see you around, darlin’,” Sexy Stranger says as he stands, giving you a small wink as he leaves. You watch him leave before realizing you didn’t cash him out. You grab the cash and receipt, noticing what looks like writing on the back side.

A phone number is scrawled on the back. Underneath is his name. Joel.

Your heart stops as you stare at the small white paper. When did I even give him a pen? I didn’t notice him writing. Georgia startles you with an elbow to the side.

“That was quick,” she teases. Bashful, you fold the receipt up and shove it in the pocket of your jean shorts.

“Shut up, Georg. He was just being nice. Probably wants tips for shark watching or something.”

She stares at you incredulously. “Girl… he’s so fucking into you. Everybody in this building felt that tension.”

Heat creeps up your spine once again. You check the POS system for the time and see that it’s almost 2:00 AM. Time to close and do it all again tomorrow.

“Let’s get something to eat. Wanna crash at my place?” Georgia asks. You nod, finding that you’re hungry—but something tells you it’s not food you’re craving.

Sunlight bounces off the white walls of Georgia’s apartment just before 7:00 AM. A light groan escapes you as you stretch out on the plush sectional in her living room before settling back into the burrow of blankets.

Georgia lives a quick five-minute drive from the marina, in a lofty one-bedroom apartment with an ocean view. Her family is generationally wealthy and based in Sarasota, Florida—hence the high-rise apartment and a nice Mercedes SUV. She escaped the clutches of her uptight family to explore her passion—surfing. She got a job at The Rusty Sawfish to supplement her allowance and pay for surfing gear and tournaments, something her parents refused to do. You two clicked immediately and have been friends since.

Pulling your hoodie up over your head, you check your phone quickly before deciding whether to go back to sleep. It’s still early, and you didn’t get to sleep until after 3:00 AM. Your stomach backflips when you see a message from an unknown number pop up. The nerves turn to giddiness as you remember that the number belongs to Joel, the sexy stranger you met at the convenience store last night. You messaged him when you got to Georgia’s apartment last night asking if he made it home alright, certain he wouldn’t be awake to respond. You swipe down to read the message.

Joel: Morning sweetheart. I made it home just fine. Was hoping you’d text sooner so I could ask the same. :)

Kicking your feet like a child, you contemplate a response.

You: Sorry I texted so late! I didn’t make it back to my friend’s place until close to 3.

Joel is quick to respond.

Joel: Surprised you’re up. Figured someone as pretty as you would need at least 8 hours of beauty sleep. By the way—your friend told me your name. I hope that’s OK.

Grinning at your phone, you shake your head slowly. The man is as charming over text as he is in person.

You: You flatter me. I was just going to go back to sleep given that I currently look like a hobbit—guess 8 hours is exactly what I need ;)

You: And yes, that’s okay. Sounds a lot like my friend. She’s a good wingman.

Joel: I highly doubt you look anything less than gorgeous. Get some rest. We’ll talk later today.

Pretty. Gorgeous.

The grin doesn’t leave your face as you drift back to sleep.

Later that evening, you’re behind the familiar u-shaped counter of the bar with paper-thin patience and a penchant for kicking out a rowdy group of college age anglers from the tournament.

“Look, I have a legit ID and I’m an adult, I can drink however many beers I want!” A gangly blonde trust fund-looking kid from the group whines at you. You narrow your eyes at him briefly before responding, like a snake ready to strike its prey.

“Not how it works. It’s the bar’s best practice to avoid overserving and keep this a safe place for everybody. Drink some water and we’ll revisit,” you reply, voice stern. You squeeze the towel in your hand for stress relief.

Though Florida has a dram shop law that prevents bars from being sued by an intoxicated patron that ends up drunk driving and getting hurt, Gil has always mandated a no overserving policy. Spending all day out in the ocean and then drinking heavily is a dangerous combo. The older patrons have no qualms about it, but the younger, rowdier crowds differ. Blonde kid sticks his index finger on the counter and leans in close to you, bloodshot eyes fixated on yours.

“I want your manager,” he spits, breath reeking of booze. Still somewhat level-headed, you stare directly in his eyes.

“You got it,” you respond, emotionless. Gil’s not one for overserving, and he’s not one for rude patrons harassing his bartenders. This dumb kid has a lesson coming.

Stone faced, you drop your towel and tell Georgia you’ll be right back before cruising to Gil’s office. The door is wide open, and to your surprise, Joel’s sitting in the chair next to Gil, the two of them chuckling and conversing. Your heart falters momentarily before you remember why you came back here. You knock lightly on the open door and both men look up at you.

Gil frowns immediately. He’s seen that look before.

“Not a good sign when my best employee has that look on her face. Where is he?” Gil asks, standing and removing his readers. Feeling Joel’s eyes burning holes in you, you do your best to ignore them right now.

“Up front. Blonde kid with the frat group. Pissed off that I won’t pour him a 5th vodka red bull. I told him about our policy, and he asked for the manager,” you recite, tight-lipped. Gil nods, squeezing your shoulder lightly as he walks past you to the bar.

Thankful that Gil is handling it, you close your eyes and exhale heavily before remembering you’re not alone. Your eyes open quickly to find Joel staring at you. His eyes look concerned, though there’s that damned lopsided smile on his face.

“Guy’s got some balls on him,” he jokes, standing and taking a step closer to you. Your pulse quickens. Laughing, you roll your eyes and wave him off.

“Everybody does when they’re drunk.”

Joel rakes a hand through his stubble and nods, studying your face.

“I reckon I wasn’t totally honest with you last night,” he says, face falling slightly. Raising an eyebrow, you try to quiet the thousand thoughts that rush through your mind—is he going to say that he’s married? Fresh out of prison? Gay? Well… the last one is unlikely. He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck as he continues.

“I’ve known Gil for a long, long time. S’why I knew there’d be Eagle Rare here,” he says.

Relief rushes through you. “Jesus, Joel. I thought you were gonna tell me you were married.”

A hearty laugh escapes him as he shakes his head fervently, throwing his hands up in surrender. “Hell no. Haven’t been married since I was in my early 20s, which was about a million years ago.”

You wipe your brow exaggeratedly, signaling your relief. Joel chuckles again.

“So, what brings you to Clearwater, then? Or have you always been here?”

“No, no. I’m from Texas. Been here several times but moved here last month. I’m a contractor and Gil and I have worked on some projects together. He wants my help f’another one.”

It all makes sense—the flannel shirt, the muscles, the demeanor, the accent. A question pops up in your mind.

“Does he know you gave me your number last night?” You ask him, tilting your head inquisitively.

“Yes, ma’am. We’re good friends. He’s protective of you, but I made it clear t’him that I ain’t tryin’ any funny business with you,” he admits, smoldering eyes affixed to yours. His expression and tone gives you the impression that he’s telling the truth, like lying to you would be worse than anything.

“Are you saying… you don’t often give your number to bartenders that spill coffee all over you?” You chide, flashing a smile at him. His pupils dilate imperceptibly.

“No, ma’am. Don’t make that kinda thing a habit,” he responds, taking a step closer to you. Your breath catches in your throat at his proximity. He’s within arm’s reach, and the magnetic field between the two of you is sending your internal compass off the rails. He opens his mouth to say something, but Gil interrupts the moment, oblivious to the two of you.

“He’s taken care of. Thanks for dealing with him,” he sing-songs, saying your name warmly.

Still staring at Joel, you reply to Gil. “Appreciate it, Gil. I’ll return to my post.”

Joel laughs quietly, eyes twinkling at you. You smile coyly at him before leaving the office, needing to cool off before you explode internally. The sexual tension between the two of you is almost too much to handle.

Before you can check if he’s following you, Georgia flags you down behind the bar. A devilish smile plays on her tan, freckled face.

“So… he’s back,” she teases, waggling her eyebrows. “You taking him home tonight or what?”

Jaw dropping in mock shock, you tilt your head at her.

“Are you suggesting that I sleep with him? Georg—I don’t know him!”

She guffaws. “Gil knows him very well, though. Isn’t that enough to tell you he’s safe? I bet they watch boring carpenter shows together and spend all their money on fancy old man bourbon.”

Good point. Joel seems safe—for now. But you’ve been out of the game far too long to half-ass a night with a man like him. He seems… experienced. And the glint in his eyes when he sees you is enough to make your heart jump out of your chest.

“I don’t know. I’m interested. I’ll keep an open mind. Sounds like he’s in Clearwater for good… plenty of old beach babes to take him on,” you joke, winking at her. She punches your arm.

“He doesn’t even look at anybody but you, dipshit. If you say something like that one more time, I’m gonna tell him,” she threatens half-jokingly, pointing a polished finger in your face.

“Fine. We’ll see where it ends up,” you surrender, checking the fridges for a routine restock.

The remainder of Saturday night at The Rusty Sawfish is busy, but not overwhelmingly so.

Georgia, Mike, Rand, and you man the bar, which had no empty chairs the entire evening. Business was booming from the fishing tournament, and even Gil stepped out of the office to pour some drinks.

Joel made himself comfortable at the end of the bar. Gil dumped stacks of blueprints in front of him, and he got busy reviewing them while nursing glasses of neat bourbon. You couldn’t count the number of times you two exchanged glances and shy smiles, and he couldn’t count the number of times he caught himself staring at you. He was entranced by the way you moved at the bar—commanding the flow of customers, making drinks at lightning speed, being friendly with the customers, and looking damn good while you do it.

Closing time rolls around yet again, and he’s still scanning blueprints, sketching on pages here and there with his carpenter’s pencil. Every so often, he’d tuck it behind one of his ears, mussing some of his curls in the process. You found yourself studying his mannerisms, trying to get to know him without speaking. He’d tick his jaw back and forth as he read, and the corner of his lips would twitch each time he marked the page with his pencil, salt and pepper mustache hairs grooving along with them.

You learn from the way he holds the page out three feet in front of him to read small text, brow furrowing as he deciphers the letters, that he’s stubborn and not ready to buy reader’s glasses. You catch yourself giggling at it, making damn sure he doesn’t see.

You learn that he was likely a former athlete by the way his hips sway when he walks to the bathroom, his gait controlled yet energetic and limber, the denim of his very-worn jeans hugging his strong legs. The jeans indicate that he’s not much of a shopper and is loyal to what makes him feel comfortable, like a pair of faded, almost-torn bootcut Wranglers molded to his frame and creased leather cowboy boots.

You learn that his body is still in wonderful shape as he folds his arms behind his head and arches his back to stretch his aching body, revealing a sliver of soft-looking skin above the denim waistband and a trail of dark hair leading from his belly button down beneath.

You learn that he enjoys hearing your laugh with each time he tries to prod it out of you with a silly joke or a wisecrack about one of the customers. Given the manner and frequency with which his eyes travel up and down your frame, he also likes your body—from the subtle shelf of your breasts underneath your tank top, to the shape of your ass in your frayed jean shorts, to your smooth legs. But he likes your face, too—evident by the way his amber eyes travel over your features, landing frequently at your eyes and lips.

Now, you can tell Georgia she’s right—that he fancies you, more so than any other woman that glanced at him twice during the night. And boy, there were plenty.

Most of all, though—you learn how much you want him. If not obvious by the butterflies bouncing off the walls of your abdomen and chest as he speaks to you, it is clear when you take a bathroom break of your own and find dampness in your panties. Your nerves are in overdrive at the possibility of finding out what his hands feel like on your skin, what his lips feel like meshed with yours, what his strong frame feels like flush against yours.

Needing cool relief, you soak a paper towel in cold water and place it on the back of your neck, shivering at the stray droplets that roll down your spine. You stare at yourself in the mirror and start to realize that maybe Georgia is right about you, that you are beautiful and worthy of feeling that way.

You exit the bathroom to find that it’s now past 2:00 AM, and customers have left—all but Joel. He’s standing now, elbows leaning against the counter. He notices the air pressure change from the bathroom door opening and turns to stare at you as you approach him, eyes sweeping up and down your figure once again.

“Sir, we’re closed. Have you paid your tab?” You ask, half-smiling at him. He laughs as he fishes his wallet out of his jeans pocket.

“Gettin’ there, sweetheart,” he says, grunting as it finally comes out of its enclosure. The wallet is about as worn as the jeans, faded and bent at the corners. He hands you several twenty-dollar bills, a few too many for his sixty-dollar tab.

“I’ll get your change,” you say, muscle memory taking over. He puts a hand up.

“No, keep it. You deserve it,” he murmurs, tucking the wallet back in his pocket and gathering the blueprints for Gil.

“Joel, it’s too much for what little work I did tonight,” you protest. He looks at you, eyes smoldering once again.

“No, darlin’—you did a lot more than you think.” The tone suggests he’d been imagining you the same way you did him, sending a zing of shivers up your spine. You know your cheeks are reddening, but you ignore it as you balance the drawer for the evening. Joel trots back to Gil’s office to return the papers, resurfacing after a few minutes.

Georgia, Mike, and Rand have finished cleaning and their closing duties. They stop by the register to check in on you.

“Hey—there’s a party at Mike’s neighbor’s house. You in?” Georgia asks, knowing full well you’re not going to agree. You can tell she’s trying not to smirk.

“No, thanks. I’m exhausted,” you reply, dividing up the tips. “Here you go, tips for tonight. Great job.”

“Well, you better come to the one next week—you can’t use this excuse again,” Mike teases you, elbowing you lightly.

“I’ll be there, just not feeling it tonight. Thanks, guys,” you say warmly, hugging Georgia as they prepare to leave.

“Oh, we rode together—are you good taking an Uber? I was going to ride with these guys,” she asks, loud enough for Joel to hear.

“I can walk to my car. It’s only a few minutes.”

Joel interrupts. “I’ll take ya. I’m sure y’feel safe out here, but it’s late and dark.”

Georgia takes this as her cue to leave. “See you tomorrow, love!” You wave as the three exit, leaving Joel, you, and the magnetic sexual tension between you.

“You sure about this? Really, it’s not that bad of a trek,” you ask him, not wanting to be a bother. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“I’d feel better f’you let me make sure you’re safe, and y’just said y’were tired,” he says lowly, voice dropping in decibels to match the now-quiet atmosphere of the bar.

“If it helps you sleep at night, sure,” you joke, winking at him. A yawn interrupts your comedic routine, to which Joel raises his eyebrows.

“How ‘bout I just drive you home, sweetheart?” He suggests. A wave of fatigue hits you as you finish yawning, and you surrender.

“Good idea. Let me get my stuff.”

You emerge from the office after retrieving your purse and saying goodbye to Gil, who has resumed trying to figure out Excel. Joel watches you approach him, rubbing his beard distractedly.

You lead him out of the bar, the nervous energy between you making your legs feel restless. Joel places a hand on your lower back as you push the doors open. Once outside, you expect him to move it, but he doesn’t. It stays warm and firm on your back as you two walk down the marina to the street parking area.

The sound of the waves crashing into the shore placates your nerves a bit. You peer at them as you walk, bewitched by the rays of moonlight dancing on the subtle peaks.

“S’a beautiful night,” Joel murmurs, closer to your ear than you realized. You jump a bit, and he chuckles quietly, rubbing his hand softly on your lower back.

“Sorry, didn’t mean t’scare ya,” he apologizes. The cool beach breeze blows by, and goosebumps grow on your bare skin. You rub your arms instinctively. A few moments later, Joel places his flannel over your shoulders, squeezing the tops lightly before letting go. The warm gesture makes those butterflies in your stomach ricochet like pinballs.

“Thanks. It’s cooler than normal this evening,” you say, watching your feet as you continue walking. The scent of his shirt engulfs your senses, slowing your pace momentarily. It’s an alluring mix of earthy and musky, like sandalwood, pine, and sweet bourbon.

“This is me,” Joel says, stopping next to an older, beatdown Chevy truck. He opens the passenger door for you.

“Didn’t realize you were such a gentleman, Joel,” you tease him. He shuts the door lightly, smirking and shaking his head at you through the window. You glance at your surroundings.

His truck is spotless, save for some stains on the floor. There’s a cup of carpenter’s pencils in one of the cupholders, which makes you smile. The radio is ancient, with a small, thin screen for the time and big black buttons, which are a bit dusty. The only button that’s clean is the power button/volume knob duo. Not much of a music guy, you think.

The driver’s door squeaks open, and Joel plops down on the seat with a grunt. He shoves the key in the ignition and turns it over a few times before the engine roars on.

“Where to?” he asks, cranking the truck into reverse and pulling out of the spot. You direct him to your apartment, which is 10 minutes from the marina.

The ride to your place is quiet, but not awkwardly so. Joel turned on the music and kept the volume low, asking you questions here and there about Clearwater and you.

“Your family here?”

“Nope. I’m from the Midwest. They’re all in Nebraska and Iowa.” He whistles lowly.

“Bit of a drive. Why Florida? Lemme guess—the ocean?”

“That’s part of it,” you reply, staring out the window, watching the palm trees flash by.

“Take it y’also wanted to get away from your family,” he says, tone rhetorical. You snort and turn to face him. He’s got one hand on the wheel, the other perched on the back of your seat. There’s a half-smirk on his moonlight-painted face.

“Am I that obvious?” Your tone is half-incredulous, half-rhetorical. He chuckles in place of responding.

Soon, you arrive at your apartment complex. Joel opens your door and follows you to the building. Hesitant, you stop just before entering and turn to him. The tension is thick, like a hazy cloud between the two of you.

“Do you want to come inside?”

He clenches his jaw, staring at you before replying.

“Sure. Y’gonna take advantage of me?” The witty remark catches you off guard. You burst out laughing and the contagious, melodic sound makes him laugh.

“Only if you want me to,” you reply, holding your keys up to the pad and opening the door. You swear you hear him growl behind you, but he doesn’t reply.

Luckily, you’re on the first floor. You don’t think you could stomach walking up the stairs in your daisy dukes with Joel behind you.

Once inside your place, you open the fridge and grab two bottles of beer as Joel surveys the apartment. You place one on his bare forearm, the sudden chill startling him. He swipes the bottle from your hand as you giggle, giving you a threatening look.

“Want to sit outside? I have a little futon out there,” you offer, realizing you still have his flannel on. The sleeves are a little long, touching the base of your knuckles. He nods. You grab a blanket from the couch and lead him to the sliding glass door in the kitchen.

Your patio is small, but it’s your favorite spot, overlooking the beach. The apartment building is on a small hill, which is great for days when the sea level rises. The waves are still crashing quietly onto the shore, bathed in silky moonlight.

You sit first, crossing your legs underneath the warm blanket. It’s chilly without it. Joel sits next to you with what you now know is his trademark old man grunt, denim-clad leg touching your knee. He takes a swig and brings the base of the bottle to eye level to study the label.

“Sorry—no bourbon,” you lament jokingly, taking a swig of your own. He smirks and takes another sip.

“Didn’t strike you as the type, anyway.”

“Is it the lack of facial hair?” Joel spits out his beer laughing.

“Jesus, you’re somethin’ else,” he coughs, wiping his mouth and beard with the back of his hand.

“In Joel speak, I think that’s a compliment, yes?”

He laughs again, staring at you as you watch the ocean. His hand moves to rest on your kneecap, thumb circling the soft skin lightly. Your heartbeat picks up twofold.

“Gil was right about you,” he murmurs. Confused, you look at him, surprised to see a wanton expression on his face.

“What about me?”

He scoots closer. Your hands squeeze the beer bottle nervously.

“Don’t remember exactly what he said,” he croons, face getting closer to yours, “somethin’ about you bein’ a special person.”

The sexual tension between the two of you has reached a new level of heavy, sucking the air out of your lungs and igniting your core. Joel grabs your beer from your hand, setting it and his down on the concrete floor of the patio. He stares into your eyes, looking for hesitation as he leans closer to you.

Clearly, he finds none, because his lips are on yours, light and soft. The hand that was on your knee is on the back of your neck, thumb pressed against your cheek. His other hand grips your hip and pulls you closer to him. You take the opportunity to climb on his lap, pulling a surprised yet satisfied grunt from him.

His lips move slowly, gently against yours. Rough, warm hands caress the tops of your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their path. He tastes smooth, like the Eagle Rare he sipped on this evening, a rich contrast from the rough scratch of his mustache and beard against your face. You comb fingers through his thick curls, tugging lightly at the base of his head. Another satisfied grunt travels from his throat to your mouth.

The passion overheats you, and like he’s reading your mind, he pushes his shirt off your shoulders, mouth still latched to yours. His hands slip under your tank top and caress your abdomen, fingertips dancing along the underside of your breast. He groans again when he realizes you don’t have a bra on. You tilt your head back and his lips caress your neck, nipping softly at your pulse. The soft moan that leaves your lips spurs him on, and his teeth move higher, tugging on the flesh of your earlobe.

He reaches for the hem of your tank top and slowly lifts the fabric over your head. His eyes burn holes in your skin, pupils dilated so much so that his eyes look black. He reaches up and palms both of your breasts, kneading the flesh and rolling your nipples between his fingertips as he admires your body.

“Christ, you’re perfect,” he breathes before sucking a nipple into his mouth. You wrap your arms around his strong neck and tug his curls back to envelope his mouth with yours. He lifts you from his lap effortlessly and stands, murmuring something about going back inside into your mouth.

Still kissing you, he carries you to your bedroom and tosses you on the bed before caging you in his arms, continuing what you started on the patio as the sound of the ocean and the cicadas fill the background.

Taglist: @burntheedges, @tuquoquebrute, @syd-djarin, @danaispunk, @anoverwhelmingdin

Read Part 2 here!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #mermaid purse

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