#I do have a few stacked up but life has been busy so I've been taking it easy
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dazzle-art · 1 year ago
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Hi Razz,
Does you has a Ko-fi or anything like it?
Hiya! Technically speaking I do, but it's not hooked up to any bank account so I can't take commissions through ko-fi as of now. If you'd like me to draw you something, I'd gladly do so as a request! The request box is usually open anyways!
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likeumeanit9497 · 3 months ago
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you jealous? | c.s. & m.s. |
chris sturniolo x reader x matt sturniolo
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summary: y/n's secret fwb, chris, teaches her a lesson on sharing.
warnings: SMUTTTT; unprotected p in v; fingering; handjob; oral (f receiving); dirty talk; lowk toxic chris (srry); 2 boys 1 night ;); 18+
notes: hiiii guys!! sooooo i know i have been painfully inactive AGAIN over the past few weeks BUT I CAN EXPLAIN!!! so yes i got back from my trip at the start of aug, but i made a super stupid last minute decision to go back to college this fall, so i had to do all my applications, find a new place to live in a new city, AND move out of my old place all since i've been back. sooo i've been a bit busy hence why i haven't been able to write or post anything since the start of the month. BUT to make it up to u all i decided to write a fic for both the matt and chris girlies teehee. side note this is probably the closest i will ever get to a chris x matt x reader threesome okay i can't handle much more than this before it starts feeling weird af, BUT i hope u guys enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it (can u tell the duo streams are making it hard for me to pick one straight triplet to thirst over for the week?? hope someone relates) love u all and can't wait to write some more nasty shit <333
ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ
As I walked through the front door at the party, I really didn’t know what to expect. Sure, the flashing lights, loud rap music, and the sinus-burning waft of alcohol that flooded my senses as soon as I opened the door were a given, but there was so much uncertainty in my life that the night was feeling almost surreal.
“There she is!” I heard Nick’s bellowing voice through the sea of people as I walked up the front steps and entered the living room. Nick was my best friend, and had been since him and his brothers moved to Los Angeles, and he had decided to throw a ‘small’ party for me when I told him that I got a promotion at my job. Nervous to have so much attention on me at once, I smiled sheepishly as he ran over to me with a bottle of tequila in his hand.
After squeezing me so hard that I thought my ribs might break, he waved the half-empty bottle in my face. “You look sober. You can’t be sober at your own party! Let’s go take some shots.” By his rushed speech and disheveled appearance, I could tell that he had been drinking for a while prior to my arrival. And he was right, I was sober, and with the number of eyes on me and unrecognizable people circling me, I knew I had to gain some liquid courage quick.
“I thought you said this was just going to be a small get together Nick, what happened?” I asked quietly as we reached the kitchen. He grabbed us two shot glasses from the stack sitting on the counter, and rushed to the fridge to grab me a High Noon before pouring the tequila. “It’s LA, Y/n, this is a small get together. And besides,” He handed me an overflowing shot glass, “Everyone loves you. Now hurry up and cheers me.” Rolling my eyes, I obliged; lifting my glass in the air and clinking it gently against his before bringing it to my lips and tilting my head back.
The first shot is always the worst, and this one was no exception. I felt the burn as it traveled down my throat and into my stomach, and I winced before finally giving in and chasing with the High Noon that Nick had grabbed for me. “Wooo!” Shouted Nick before pouring more tequila into our glasses. “Hold on, what are you doing?” I tried to protest by covering the top of my shot glass with my hand. Without hesitation, Nick swatted my hand away. “You need another silly. Everyone here has been drinking for hours.” Grumbling under my breath, I let him pour another one, knowing that it was only a matter of time before the person I was most anxious to see would make an appearance.
As if he had sensed my nerves, it was just then, as I was bringing my second shot to my lips, that I saw him walking up the stairs leading to his bedroom. Squeezing my eyes shut, I hurriedly took my shot before chugging half of my drink at once in an attempt to calm my mind. I still had my drink at my lips when he noticed me; his droopy blue eyes scanning the room before they landed on mine. He smirked, soft pink lips curled up in a taunting manner, before waltzing over to where Nick and I were standing.
“Hey there.” He chirped, leaning against the counter just inches away from me. “Hey Chris.” I replied, keeping my tone as nonchalant as possible as I felt his gaze burn into me. “When did you get in?” He asked as I continued to avoid eye contact. I took a sip of my drink. “Just a few minutes ago.” There was a silence between the three of us; the awkwardness so intense that I felt like I could explode. “Okayyyy, I’m gonna go say hi to a few people.” Nick stated before quickly rushing off to the living room, leaving me alone with Chris.
“So,” Began Chris, “Long time no see.” I felt him take a step closer to me before running his hand lightly across the small of my back. Reacting to his touch, I inhaled a sharp breath and my eyes shot to his. “Very funny.” I responded, my voice a low whisper as if anyone could hear our conversation above the loud music and steady chatter in the room. He chuckled, still rubbing my back discreetly. “I thought so.”
It had actually been less than 24 hours since I had seen Chris. Just the night before, my wrists had been tied to his headboard while my legs were wrapped around his waist. A few weeks ago, after a night at the bar with Nick, Chris and I had had rushed, sloppy sex on their living room couch when Matt and Nick were asleep. Since then, him and I had fucked at least a dozen more times without telling a soul. I couldn’t bear the thought of my best friend finding out that I was sleeping with his brother, and Chris couldn’t stand the thought of anyone knowing anything about his personal life. Plus, there was something so sexy about our little secret; and I worried that if anyone found out about what we had been doing, the adrenaline that flooded my veins every time he looked at me with that knowing gaze, or touched me covertly, would disappear.
Over the past few weeks, there had been moments when our secret was almost revealed. Like the one time, when I was changing in Nick’s room, when he saw the dark blue hickeys all across my chest and stomach. Or another time, when I rolled up my sleeves to wash my hands in the kitchen and Matt asked me about the marks on my wrists. Both times, I froze; but both times I was able to come up with little white lies on the spot. I had made up a fictional man — one that lived in another city and they certainly didn’t know — that I had been seeing, and after sharing perhaps too many explicit details, they had both believed me.
Other than that, there had been no other times where people seemed to have any inclination of what Chris and I had been doing — most likely because we hadn’t been around others since we started hooking up. Tonight was the first time that we were going to be drinking with a big group of people, hence why I had been so anxious about how the night might go.
“You wanna go downstairs?” Chris’ voice in my ear pulled me from my thoughts, and I felt that familiar jump in my stomach from the thought of being alone with him right now. However, I was still sober enough to remember that we had to be careful, so I took a moment and glanced around the room. Everyone seemed pretty drunk, but the night was still young, and it was too risky yet. So, I shook my head softly. “We can’t yet, let’s wait for it to get later.” I was whispering just like he had been, and I felt his hand move from my lower back down to my ass, where he cupped it and gave it a generous squeeze. “Got it.” He replied, before snaking off and leaving me alone in our corner of the kitchen. Sighing, I reached for the bottle of tequila that Nick left behind; pouring myself yet another shot. Tonight was gonna be a long night.
𓆩♡𓆪
After a few more shots and a couple High Noons, I was drunk. Unfortunately, it had done nothing to ease my nerves, because I had spent the past hour or so watching Chris get progressively closer to another girl. As I leaned against the kitchen table attempting to keep up a conversation with Matt, I watched as he went from innocently chatting with her, to draping his arm across the back of the couch where she was sitting, to him now; pulling her onto his lap as he slipped his tongue into her mouth.
I tried to act as unbothered as possible, but it wasn’t easy. It’s not like I had any romantic feelings for Chris — him and I had both made it abundantly clear that it was just sex — but I couldn’t help but see red as I watched her run her hands through his messy curls as she rolled her hips on his lap. It was just that the sex that him and I were having was so good, I selfishly didn’t want anyone else to get it from him.
Groaning under my breath, I made an excuse and snuck away from Matt before walking to the fridge to grab one more drink. As I was rummaging through the fridge’s contents, I felt a warm hand brush against my bare leg. “You ready to sneak away now?” His words were hushed just like before, but I couldn’t help but let out a sarcastic laugh. “You can’t be serious.” I replied before closing the fridge and cracking open my drink. Now facing him, I noticed he had a confused expression across his face.
“What happened? Did that girl on the couch give you blue balls?” Even as I spoke, I recognized how stupid and bitter I sounded. A slight twinkle formed in Chris’ eyes, causing me to grow even more angry. “What are you talking about Y/n?” He asked, a small smile crossing his lips. I rolled my eyes, growing increasingly more angry. “The girl who’s tongue was just down your throat. What happened to her?” I asked, noticing how drunk I was sounding. Chris stared at me for a moment, before tilting his head slightly to the side. “You jealous?” He asked, and in that moment I wanted to smack him.
“Of course not,” I said, walking in the direction of Matt’s washroom in an attempt to escape this increasingly uncomfortable conversation, “But you’re crazy if you think you’re gonna come to me only when plan A fails.” Trying the door, I realized that the washroom was locked and I groaned. Chris had followed me down the hall, and now he had me cornered. Just as I was about to turn around and get past him back to the kitchen, he grabbed my arm and pulled me into Matt’s room.
“What are you doing?” I exclaimed in a harsh whisper as my sense of sight was almost completely removed by the pitch-black darkness of the room. I heard the door slam shut behind me, but when I turned around, I could just barely see the outline of Chris’ frame standing just inches from me. Just then, I heard a low chuckle come from his direction. “I can’t believe my Y/n is jealous.” He said, taking a few more steps in my direction before grabbing my waist and pulling me towards him.
“You know that you’re my favourite girl baby,” He started, bringing a hand to my throat and squeezing gently. My head was tilted up, and in the poor lighting the only thing I could make out were his bright blue eyes reflecting my own nervous expression. “But you’ve gotta learn how to share.” Before I could even roll my eyes at his statement, I felt his warm thumb press against my lower lip; urging it open. With hitched breaths, I obliged; parting my lips and opening my mouth slightly.
With his hold on my neck, he tilted my head back even further and I felt, more than saw, his lips just centimetres from mine. Then, without warning, he spit a pool of his saliva into my mouth with expert precision, and at that moment all of my walls caved in. “Now be a good girl for me and get on Matt’s bed.”
With red hot arousal already coursing through me, I didn’t hesitate before rushing over to the unmade bed in the centre of the room. The sound of my racing heart in my ears and the rush of excitement that I was feeling was enough of a distraction from the fact that I was draping my body along a bed that didn’t belong to either Chris or I. The fact that almost anyone could walk in at any moment, and the view that I had once I faced Chris, was enough to cause my head to spin.
There, just in front of me, was a now-shirtless Chris. From my position on the bed, he was looming over me; and the smirk plastered to his face was equal parts terrifying and exhilarating. My needy eyes trailed slowly down his body, first his chest; down to his stomach; then his waistband — wait, what’s that shiny thing in his hand?
As if he heard my thoughts, Chris dangled the object teasingly, allowing me to realize what it was — the silver handcuffs from his room. “Were you just carrying those around all night?” I asked, locking my eyes back on his. He shrugged. “Didn’t know when I was finally gonna be able to use them.” I rolled my eyes, but as I opened my mouth to deliver a snarky reply, I was abruptly cut off by his lips on mine.
Hungry, drunk lips moulded to mine — they tasted like him. All of my annoyance with him dissolved within an instant as he wasted no time in peeling my clothing from my body; only breaking the kiss for a moment as he pulled my shirt over my head in the space between us. Immediately, his hands flew to my lower half where he simply lifted my skirt to give himself access to his favourite part of my body.
He squeezed my ass so hard that it hurt in that deliciously erotic way. Pulling me onto his lap, I felt his growing member press against my aching core as he continued to massage my ass like it was a life source that he had been deprived of for years. Low moans passed through his lips as he indulged, and I felt my body begin to tremble in painful anticipation. “Chris.” I whined before subtly grinding my core against the part of him that I needed most in that moment. I felt his lips turn up into a smile. “What’s wrong Y/n?” His voice was playful but rough from arousal, “I could’ve fucked you hours ago, remember? Then you wouldn’t be so painfully worked up.” I groaned again, not caring how desperate I felt as I dragged my soaked core up and down his clothed shaft for the second time.
Chris used his harsh grip on my ass to lift me off of him, causing me to release a frustrated sigh from the lack of contact. That quickly changed once he slid my panties to the side and used his fingers to gingerly graze my aching centre. I released a soft hiss as his fingers reached my swollen clit; hoping more than anything that he would spend extra time there. He chuckled at my noises, but any care I might have had over that dissipated as his fingers drew rapid circles on my bundle of nerves.
Tucking my head into the crook of his neck, I had to bite hard on his shoulder to keep myself from screaming out profanities from the immediate pleasure that I felt circulating in my body just from his touch. “You know, Y/n,” Chris began, his words coming out choppy from his quick movements, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you were turned on watching me with that other girl.” I stayed silent, feeling tears well up in my eyes in the same way that my orgasm was welling up in my lower stomach. With all the strength I had, I managed to shake my head weakly in response to Chris’ words; causing him to chuckle.
“You might not think so, in your mind, but your pussy is telling me something different.” Just then, two of his long fingers slipped effortlessly inside of me. Unable to hold back now, I released a sharp scream into his bruised shoulder. His fingers began moving in and out of me slowly, curling right up to my g-spot each time. “Oh yeah,” His fingers began picking up speed; filling the room with the sounds of my arousal, “You hear that? You’re pussy’s so fuckin’ wet, it’s giving away your deep dark secrets.”
Moans now fell from my lips carelessly as his actions and words brought me closer and closer to an earth shattering orgasm. Maybe he was right, maybe there was a part of me that loved the thought of him being with another girl. Maybe I liked the idea of watching from the sidelines as he touched, kissed, or even fucked other girls.
Or maybe I just loved the idea that, no matter how many other girls he’s with, he will never find a better fuck than me.
That was the last thought I had before my mind was overtaken by the tidal wave of my orgasm. Arching my back in pleasure, I moaned out profanities as Chris’ fingers worked my pulsing core. I felt my legs shake as the relentless euphoria tore through my body, until Chris quickly removed his fingers from my core, lifted me up off of his lap, and bent me over the side of the bed all in one motion.
The cool air against my soaked and exposed core caused me to gasp, but still I waited exactly where he placed me with trembling limbs as I anticipated his next move. The sharp sound of a zipper filled the dark room, and after a moment I felt the heat from Chris’ member press against my wetness. Immediately and without thinking, I began rolling my hips in a weak attempt at relieving the unyielding want deep inside of me, but a firm hand on my hip promptly stopped all movements. “Wait one minute, Y/n.” Chris said, and I heard the sound of metal clanking together before the ice cold handcuffs were placed around my wrists.
I felt my stomach do a flip just like it always did when Chris tied me up in any way that he could, and once he was content with their placement, he gripped both of my wrists in one of his hands as he used his other to line his shaft up with my opening. I felt his tip slide up and down my slick folds a handful of times, causing an anticipatory shiver to crawl up my spine, before the indescribable satisfaction of feeling his length stretch my walls caused me to sigh in relief. That satisfaction was quickly replaced by gritty need as Chris began slamming his cock deep into me at a relentless pace. His hand tightened around my wrist as he gained momentum, causing the harsh metal of the handcuffs to dig into my skin; increasing the pleasure that I was feeling.
The room was filled with the sounds of my ass slapping against his front, and I knew even without him saying anything that the view he had was driving him crazy. Just as expected, his hand dropped a sharp smack to my left ass cheek before gripping onto it ruthlessly. “You feel so fucking good wrapped around me baby.” Chris’ voice was already deep and guttural, and I could tell that he wasn’t gonna last very long. Moaning in response, I bit onto the comforter beneath me to muffle the sound as I relished in the feeling of his cock hitting just the right spot on each harsh thrust.
“This is what you needed, huh? I knew by your attitude you were dyin’ for it.” His filthy talk was enough to send me another strong wave of vertigo, and I felt my restrained hands desperately try to grab onto him in any way so that I could stabilize myself. “You know this cock is yours,” Chris continued, both his movements and his voice now growing choppier, “But just because something is yours doesn’t mean you can’t share.” I felt my body begin to tense up, goosebumps raised on my skin as I felt my pleasure begin to boil over.
“Fuck, gonna cum baby.” Chris’ words were rushed, and as he spoke them he quickly pulled his swollen length out of my wincing core. After a few pumps in his hand, I felt his warm fluid shoot onto my back and collect in a small pool. As he came down from his high, I heard small grunts leave his mouth and I wanted nothing more than to use my own restrained hands to milk him dry. After a few moments of silence, both of us simply catching our breaths, Chris spoke. “Sorry, Y/n, I didn’t expect to cum so fast.” He massaged my ass with his hands as he spoke.
“It’s okay.” I replied, though the screaming need in between my legs was saying otherwise. “Get up on the bed and arch that back, I’ll get you there.” His words caused my body to quiver once again. Just as I was about to do as he told me, the shocking sound of a door opening caused me to freeze in place like a deer in headlights.
“Chris who the fuck are you talking to in my ro-”
The familiar voice filled the room and deafening silence immediately followed. Chris’ hands were still on my waist, and I felt my skin grow hot in embarrassment. In the heat of everything that had happened over the past little while, I had forgotten who’s room we were in. But now, that person’s voice pulled me back to reality, and I was reminded of the fact that my naked body had been pressed against his bed as I was fucked senseless by his brother.
Still, no one was speaking. My face was buried in the comforter, where I planned on keeping it in order to avoid facing the situation I found myself in. The silence felt like a fifty pound weight pressing against my bare back, and I prayed to the universe that someone was going to speak. Just then, I felt Chris shift behind me; placing a hand on the back of my neck and leaning towards my ear.
“I know how to share what’s mine. Watch this.”
His words sent chills down my spine, and that chill was exemplified once I felt the heat of his body move away from me. Through the pounding anxiety in my head, I was able to hear a few footsteps followed by an entire conversation performed in well-executed whispers. Chris and Matt spoke in hushed tones for what felt like hours as I continued to stay in the place that Chris had left me; my heart racing and breath heaving at the thought of what they might be talking about. Chris’ last statement was ominous, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to decipher what he meant: he wanted to share me with Matt.
As they spoke to one another, I went over the idea of it in my head. It was wrong, for sure. I was already fucking one of my best friends’ brothers, but to fuck both of them in one night was too far. Plus, I had never had any interest in Matt before. Him and I were friends, sure, but not once had I considered doing anything more with him. Because I was already fucking his brother, and his other brother is my best friend. It was wrong, end of story.
But then why did I feel a new trickle of my own arousal fall down my leg at the thought of Matt’s eyes glued to my naked body right now?
I’m fucked.
“You okay, Y/n?” I heard Chris’ voice and it pulled me out of my trance. I knew what he meant by that. “Yes.” I replied, wincing at the desperation laced through my tone. A chuckle came in response, then the sound of the door opening — bringing with it bright lights and an increase in clarity of the constant party chatter — before it clicked shut; and then, silence.
I could hear nothing around me but my own heavy breathing, and if I didn’t know any better I would genuinely believe that I was alone in the room at last. But I did know better, because I could feel his tired blue eyes on my body. I still hadn’t moved, couldn’t move. My face was still buried deep in his comforter and I was too afraid to face him yet. My legs felt like jello, and I knew that if I wasn’t already bent over his bed, I would have collapsed by now.
Finally, I hear footsteps. They were slow, and I couldn’t tell which direction they were going, but he was finally moving. Next I heard the shuffling sound of some sort of fabric, then more footsteps. This time, I was sure they were heading for me. I was proven right when I felt the heat of his body behind me. Suddenly, I released a sharp gasp when I felt the soft material of a towel against my lower back. Matt wiped the pool of his brother’s cum off of my lower back in silence, and even the accidental brush of his knuckles against my clammy skin set me on fire.
“So, this was what those marks on your wrists were from.” He finally spoke, and his voice in this setting was so unfamiliar that I physically jumped. In my silence, he assumed I didn’t understand what he meant, so I felt him tap lightly on the metal around my wrists. “The handcuffs.” He clarified even further. “Uh,” I cleared my throat, trying to sound confident, “Yeah.” At that, I felt his hands travel around the perimeter of the cuffs, trying to find something, when suddenly I heard a faint click and my wrists were free.
Taking the cuffs completely off of me, he rubbed my aching wrists gently with both hands. Even this touch, one seemingly so innocent and caring, shot waves of pleasure to my core. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?” His words grounded me for just a moment; reminding me that this is in fact real life, yet still I responded with zero hesitation. “I’m sure.”
Again, silence. But this time, it was accompanied by the remarkable feeling of Matt’s gentle fingers trailing down my spine, leaving goosebumps in their trail. “Turn around for me.” His voice had dropped an octave since he last spoke, and while it was still far from threatening, it was no longer the comforting tone he had used as he took my cuffs off.
The shame I had previously felt from the situation had been stripped off of me by his touch, so I barely hesitated before lifting my head off of the bed and turning my body so that I was now facing him. In the dark, the outline of his body looked nearly identical to his brother, but I was able to easily tell the difference. My body didn’t react in excited fear when I saw his frame, but instead it responded in anticipatory comfort; as if I knew I had nothing to be nervous about.
Sitting cross-legged in the middle of his bed, I watched his chest rise and fall in silence for a moment. Unable to really see his eyes, I was unsure what he was looking at, but I knew he was looking at me. Just then, I watched as he climbed onto his bed, meeting me where I was. He leaned so close to me that I had to allow my head to fall back against the comforter. Now laying on top of me, using one arm to brace his weight, I suddenly felt the lust seeping out of his veins just before his lips attached to mine.
His lips were slightly softer, and slightly fuller than Chris’, and they moved with just the slightest bit more apprehension for a moment. That quickly dissipated, however, as after just a few short moments I felt his tongue run against my lower lip; begging for access to my mouth. I obliged, and relished in the new and exciting taste of him. His lips were cold — the faint scent of cigarette smoke on his skin told me that was because he had just been outside — and they felt amazing against my own hot, swollen lips. As I felt one of his hands snake up to my chest, I released a soft moan. My pleasure began to double, and then triple, when I felt him squeeze my tit and run a thumb along my hardened nipple before doing the exact same to the other one.
Having complete access to my hands for the first time in what felt like forever, I used that to my advantage and began exploring Matt’s body. His frame was slightly thinner than Chris’, and I relished in the feeling of a raised, fresh tattoo against my fingers as I traveled down his arm. Reaching his waist, I grazed my hand against his clothed member; already painfully hard and pressing against his jeans. As I palmed it a few times, Matt released a soft moan in my ear before moving his mouth down to my left tit; swirling his slippery tongue against my nipple and causing me to shutter in pleasure. After taking his time with the left, he moved his mouth to the right. While Chris’ favourite part of my body is my ass, clearly Matt has found his own personal favourite.
While the feeling of his mouth on my tit was already causing my head to spin, I desperately needed more. I fumbled with the button and zipper on his jeans, before slowly pulling them down his legs and hopefully granting his member some relief. With his mouth still on my tit, Matt helped me by pulling them down the rest of the way, along with his boxers. Once his boxers were off and his cock was able to spring free, I immediately grabbed it in my hand and began pumping up and down. Another soft groan left his lips, and the vibration from it against my sensitive nipples caused me to moan in reply.
As I pumped his member in my hand, I felt his own hand trail down my body before finally landing on the place where I needed it the most. As if he knew my body by heart, Matt found my clit in seconds and wasted no time before rubbing it at the same pace that I was jerking him off at. His mouth detached from my tit and found mine, but in our world of equal pleasure the kiss was sloppy; our mouths fell open at times and tongues swiped in and out mindlessly.
“Y-you feel good?” Asked Matt, his voice soft and choppy at the same time. Nodding my head, I widened my legs with the desperation of needing more. “Want to feel all of y-you Matt.” I whispered, opening my eyes and finally meeting his. In the dim light, they were glossed over. His pupils were so dilated that, if I didn’t know him before, I would have assumed his eyes were brown. He blinked at me for a quick moment, but didn’t make me wait long before positioning himself in between my legs.
I watched in awe as his body hovered over mine. I flinched slightly as he lined his member up to my opening; my core still slightly sore from a few minutes ago. Noticing, Matt looks back up at me. “I’ll go slow, okay?” Nodding, I drop my jaw as Matt sinks into me, keeping true to his word but still bottoming out. I felt every inch of him stretch me out, and as he stayed still to allow me a moment to adjust to him, I couldn’t help but release a frustrated moan. As if he has been in tune with my needs for years, Matt takes this simple remark for what it means, and slowly began thrusting into me.
Although his pace is slow, his shaft pleasures what seems like every nerve inside of me before finally reaching my spongey g-spot with a quick snap on each thrust. His movements are so pleasurable it’s almost excruciating, and I struggle to keep the moans from falling helplessly from my mouth. What’s more, is that even with my eyes screwed shut in ecstasy, I can feel his eyes on my face, taking in every expression and hushed sound that I make. “You want more?” He asks, his voice in a strained whisper. I shake my head. “N-no. Keep going just like that, please.” I reply, and I release a breathy moan when I feel him wrap my legs around his waist before continuing in the same unbeatable rhythm.
I run my hands through his dark brown hair, before allowing them to rest on the nape of his neck. I relished in the feeling of his back muscles tensing on each meticulously controlled thrust, before pulling his head down so that I could kiss him. Normally, I’m not someone who cares much about kissing during sex, but there was something about the deprivation and tenderness of his soft kiss that seemed to bring me even closer to an orgasm than his cock did. As he kissed me, his pace never wavered, but I could tell by the soft grunts falling from his lips that he was getting close.
As if reading my mind, he suddenly pulled out of me and I felt him shift on the bed. Thinking that he was about to cum on my stomach and that I was going to once again be deprived of an orgasm, I felt embarrassing tears well up in my eyes. However, I was pleasantly surprised by the sudden feeling of his tongue twirling skillfully against my clit. My hands immediately flew to his hair, and I was no longer capable of holding back the moans that fell from my lips. As he continued eating my pussy, he slid two fingers into my core and began pumping them the exact same way he pumped his cock into me just moments before.
In that moment, I was in total euphoria. I was sure that my knuckles were turning white from the death grip that I had on Matt’s hair, just as I was sure that if anyone was on the other side of the bedroom door — or, in the bathroom for that matter — they would definitely hear the filth that was falling from my mouth. But I had lost the ability to care, because all of my thoughts were highjacked by the unutterable levels of pleasure that were surging through my body in that moment.
And what made everything that much more intense, was the fact that Matt so clearly loved what he was doing to me. Every few seconds, I felt a deep moan fall from his mouth and vibrate off of my bundle of nerves, and in the off chance that I had my eyes open, watching him, I noticed him grinding his hips against his bed to gain some sort of relief. “I-I — oh fuck! — Matt, I’m c-close!” I exclaimed, feeling the waves of my orgasm rise threateningly close to the surface.
At my proclamation, Matt moved in one swift motion and slid his cock back into me. His pace was the same as it was before, but this time his thumb found my swollen clit and he began rubbing it quickly. “Gonna cum too. Where do you want me?” My legs were back around his waist, and my fingers were digging into his shoulder blades as I struggled to gather my thoughts. “Anywhere you want Matt!” My words breathless and exclamatory, I was barely able to get them out before an indescribable orgasm tore through my body.
I might have truly screamed out in pleasure, and dug my nails into Matt’s skin so far that he bled, but I have no way of knowing for sure — I had lost all of my senses through the overwhelming waves of pleasure. All I remember is feeling as if the pressure that had been building up inside of me for so long had been too much, and my brain had exploded. For what could have been minutes or hours — but which was probably only a few seconds — I truly thought that I might have died. But then, suddenly, I was back in my body, and it was convulsing uncontrollably through a life altering orgasm.
When I came back to my senses, Matt had his damp forehead resting against mine. His body had stilled above me, but I could feel his member twitching inside of me; painting my walls in his signature shade of white. Both of our breathing was ragged as if we had both just completed a marathon, and we both stayed still, in complete silence, as we came down from our highs.
After a few moments, Matt placed a soft kiss to my forehead before slowly removing himself from my centre. I watched him walk over to where he had discarded the towel, picking it up and bringing it over to me to help me clean myself up. So far neither of us had spoken, but I didn’t care very much as my mind was still not fully connected to my body. Finally, he spoke. “You still feel okay about this?” He asked as he began putting his clothes on. I smiled, almost laughing at the absurdity of the caution in his words. “I feel more than okay Matt.” I replied, to which he released a small laugh before handing me my shirt.
Once I was dressed, I managed to get myself to my feet. Standing at the edge of the bed, I suddenly felt nervous about walking back out into the party after being gone for so long. As if he read my mind once again, Matt walked to the door first. “I’ll head out first, then you can come out in a few minutes.” I laughed nervously but nodded. “Sounds good. See you out there.” I watched as his hand reached for the door knob before turning back to the bed to find my phone.
“Oh and Y/n?” I faced him again, “Chris might be good at sharing, but I’m not.”
His words made my already unsteady knees wobbly, and I dropped back onto the bed once he closed the bedroom door behind him. All at once, every moment of the night hit me like a freight train, and I finally realized what happened. I fucked Matt. Just a few hours ago, I was pretending to have a normal conversation with him as I was green with envy watching Chris make out with that girl. I had never planned on doing anything even close to what I had done with him, yet here I am, sitting on his bed. I close my eyes. I can still feel him inside of me. He was so good. But Chris was also sogood. Both of my best friends’ triplet brothers. How did I get here?
I’m fucked.
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
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paradiseprincesss · 4 months ago
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forever, not maybe | jonathan crane
hello hello! sorry i haven't been posting as much i've been busyyy and a little burnt out if i'm being honestttt but enough about me. when i say "catwoman mask" in this fic - i was thinking of the lace one ariana grande wore for tbim music video lol anyway...i had "off to the races" on repeat while writing this <3
summary: you have a secret life as catwoman that you've been keeping away from your boyfriend, jonathan crane. however, it seems he has a secret life of his own, too...
warnings: smut, p in v, fingering, choking, kissing, swearing, MDNI 18+ ONLY
word count: 3.6k
masterlist
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“i’m working late tonight,” jonathan said over the phone with a sigh.
“again?” you asked your boyfriend, trying to feign the sadness in your voice.
jonathan had been working late night shifts at the asylum for the last few months; so often that you swore he saw his patients more than he did you. naturally, you missed him. all you wanted was to be in his arms again, laid up in bed as he held you and told you how much he loved you.
but the extra time away from him gave you more time for your…hobbies.
of course you felt guilty lying to your boyfriend about your whereabouts or what you were doing — but you couldn’t risk him finding out about you being catwoman.
every time you told him you were going to sleep, you’d really be getting ready to commit a heist, or worse, find batman and reign chaos in the city just to spite him. you’d always tell jonathan the reason you were so tired all the time was because you were having trouble sleeping when he wasn’t there — but alas, it was because you were out on crime sprees until five in the morning.
“i’m sorry, darling. i wish i could be at home with you right now,” jonathan said softly, his voice tinged with guilt.
“i know, jon. it’s okay — i think i'm gonna go to bed now. it’s late,” you replied, trying to sound exhausted as you yawned. “see you in the morning, baby.”
“see you then, darling,” jonathan said softly, “i love you.”
“i love you too,” you sighed, hanging up the phone.
as soon as you hung up the phone, you jumped out of bed and rushed to put on your catsuit. after you threw on your fitted outfit along with the matching mask, you were sneaking out your window in mere seconds, creeping off into the dark, crime-filled city that was gotham.
tonight, you were on the prowl for a certain villain though — the scarecrow.
the two of you had had a mutual distaste for each other. he’d once told you that you were “too morally ambiguous,” as sometimes you’d be robbing banks and committing heists, whereas other times you’d aid batman in the saving of gotham city. you thought he was full of shit, and you made sure to remind him that his plan to poison the entirety of gotham city with his fear toxin would never work every chance you got. 
the two of you had a strange dynamic — always messing with one another's plans and such, but last week, things seemed to have changed between you and him. 
it all started when he came to pay you a visit after you’d robbed two men at gunpoint, stealing their cards and some cash out of pure boredom. you heard footsteps behind you as you were counting stacks of cash, and once you glanced back, you saw the scarecrow himself approaching you in the quiet parkade you stood in.
the two of you never stopped to talk very much, as usually each interaction lasted no more than a few minutes, but tonight, neither of you were in a rush to leave. the scarecrow looked at you through the eye holes of his burlap mask, and for a moment, you felt oddly comforted by his presence. 
“catwoman,” he said, looking down at the cash in your hands, “we meet again.” 
“we meet all the time,” you retaliated, hearing his distorted voice through his mask. 
“we do, yes,” he replied casually, “but i’ve never gotten the chance to speak to you alone like this.” 
“that’s because you’re always interrupting me when i'm busy,” you teased, looking up at him with a small smile. 
you noticed he stopped talking to look closely at you, almost as if he was analyzing you. picking you apart detail by detail, his blue eyes trailing over every single inch of you. his eyes darted over the lace covering your eyes before he narrowed them, inhaling sharply. 
“...has anyone told you that you have a pretty smile?” he asked quietly, and you almost had to get him to repeat himself out of disbelief. 
“did i hear you correctly?” you asked, attempting to clarify what exactly he was trying to get at. “did you just compliment me?”
“it would appear that way,” he said with amusement.
you stood there staring at him for a few seconds, unsure of what to say before you scoffed, waving his compliment off.
“i have a boyfriend,” you huffed.
“a boyfriend?” he teased, his blue eyes widening under his mask. “is that so?”
you hummed in agreement, flipping through the dollar bills in your hands. “i love him. a lot.”
“i see,” he said once more, “i forgot to mention that i saw you last week, by the way.” 
“did you?” you asked nonchalantly. 
“sneaking out of your apartment window at midnight — i wonder if your boyfriend knows what you do when he’s not home.” he teased, causing you to stop what you were doing as your heart raced.
“you know where i live?” you tilted your head to the side to emphasize your confusion, causing him to chuckle softly.
“that i do,” he shrugged, “and dare i say, you really are quite the beauty when you don’t have this lacy little mask covering your face.” 
he gestured to your mask, causing you to roll your eyes which were partially hidden by the lace. “i told you i have a boyfriend,” you said harshly. 
“i can’t help but wonder what he would think if he saw you like this — stealing from the innocent people of gotham city.” you could almost hear him smirking through his mask by the way he talked. “hm?” 
“well — i don’t plan on telling him,” you sneered, causing the scarecrow to chuckle.
“so feisty,” he purred. “tell me about this ‘boyfriend’ of yours.” 
you crossed your arms, still holding the cash in your hand as you let out an annoyed sigh. “he’s a doctor,” you said, not-so-subtly bragging, “and…as much as i wish i could tell him about what i do, i don’t think he’d approve.”
he nodded, taking in everything you were saying. 
“but you don’t need to know the intimate details of my love life — quit asking.” you said, shaking your head as you shook the thought of jonathan out of your mind for the time being.
the scarecrow looked at you with intrigue, taking a step closer to you. as you took in all the details of his suit, you couldn’t help but notice how oddly familiar it looked — you’d sworn that you had seen this exact suit before. 
“you must really love him, don’t you?” he asked casually with a shrug. “well, maybe he knows more than he’s letting on.” 
“i highly doubt that,” you sighed, realizing it was time to head home since jonathan would be back soon. “i have to go.” 
he nodded, looking at you with those strikingly blue eyes before turning around and disappearing into the shadows. you stood there for a few moments quietly, struggling to understand why he felt so familiar yet so distant to you at the same time — it almost felt like you’d known him for ages. 
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once you got home, you quietly reached for your front door before realizing it was locked. you’d made your way out tonight through the window, but when you looked up at it, you realized that there was no way you would be able to climb that high and get through it from the outside. 
“need some assistance?” a familiar voice called from the bottom of your porch stairs. once you quickly turned around in a panic, you saw a certain scarecrow peering up at you.
“what are you doing here?” you asked in a hushed whisper. “my boyfriend is going to see you. he’s supposed to be home from work any second!” 
“relax,” he commented, making his way up the porch stairs. reaching into his suit pocket, he pulls out a shiny piece of metal — a key. “i just want to help you, is that so wrong?” 
as he unlocked the front door and swung it open, you harshly grabbed his wrist, pulling him closer to you. 
“and why do you have a key to my boyfriend's house?” you asked with irritation. 
“because,” he said, his voice no longer distorted, “i live here.”
your grip remained on his wrist as he spoke softly to you, and your eyes met with his brilliantly blue ones — you only knew one person who had eyes that striking. you almost felt silly for not realizing sooner, but to be fair, he’d only come to realize who you really were just last week. 
it all made sense now  — the “late” shifts at arkham, the way he’d sometimes come home bruised and bloodied (which he said was because of his “violent” patients), and the way he’d always avoided talking about work with you every time you’d asked.
he shut the door behind the both of you as you gently let go of his wrist, looking at him in awe as he turned back around to face you. you still had your catwoman mask on, and he was still wearing his scarecrow one. you stared at him in silence, almost at a loss for words before you finally spoke up quietly, your eyes still locked with his blue ones. 
“you’re…” you trailed off, reaching up to tug at his mask, wanting nothing more than to take it off. “you’re the scarecrow…”
“and you’re catwoman,” he teased as your fingers ghosted the edge of his mask.
“shut up,” you blushed, “and take this off.” 
you gestured to his mask, but he shook his head as he stared at you through the eye holes. “i have an idea,” he suggested, “why don’t you make your way to the bedroom and wait for me, if you’re not too tired.“
“you cannot possibly be suggesting what i think you’re suggesting—”
“i am,” he said lowly. “...if you want to.”
without another word, you bit your lip and nodded, making your way to your shared bedroom excitedly. it was almost thrilling, the way he was commanding you and telling you to behave. it’s not that jonathan wasn’t bossy during sex (or in general if we’re really being honest here), but the added excitement of knowing your smart, calm, doctor boyfriend had a not-so-innocent side made it so much better.  
you sat obediently on the edge of the bed waiting for him. he eventually joined you, still in his scarecrow mask and suit, eyeing you down. 
“i’m sorry i didn’t make it clear,” he stated, “but i wanted you waiting with nothing on.” 
“but you’re—“ you tried to protest, as he was still fully clothed. 
“be quiet,” he growled, grabbing you by the throat, “unless you want a taste of my fear toxin, hm?” 
you swallowed, nodding as the grip around your neck made you dizzy, and you did as you were told to do. he watched you closely, looking at you through those eerie eye holes of his mask as you undressed hastily.
“slower,” he said, “give me a little show, won’t you sweetheart?”
you almost choked on your words when he spoke — you were enjoying it, though. something about your usually calm, collected, gentle boyfriend acting like this was triggering something primal in you. 
as you stripped down into nothing but your bra and underwear — which were matching, by the way — his pupils went wide at the sight. you sat back on the bed in your lacy undergarments, and he took a few steps closer, not yet getting on the bed with you.
“you really are perfect, you know?” he spoke softly, even though he looked rather intimidating, but it had you rubbing your thighs together.
“light of my life,” you breathed. “that’s what you are.” 
“is that right, my darling?” he asked, his voice giving away that although he was acting tough and composed — he was crumbling because of you. “are you forever mine?”
“forever yours,” you replied with no hesitation. 
jonathan made his way over to you, grabbing your face gently as he stood at the edge of the bed.
“i love you,” you whispered, and his grip on your face softened. 
“darling,” he rasped, “lay back on the bed for me.” 
you do as you’re told, laying back on the bed as he joins you, his hands immediately snaking behind your back to unclasp your lacy bra. 
“angelic,” he breathed, speaking softly. “how are you real?” 
his last words were so quiet, you barely heard him through the burlap mask covering his head. you were sprawled out on the bed, back resting on the pillows as his hands reached to tweak your nipples softly, causing you to moan quietly. he was hovering above you, propped up on his arms and studying your every reaction as he took in the way your body responded to his touch. 
suddenly, his hand brushed up against the lace of your panties, teasingly dragging his fingers across your skin. you let out a soft whine, shifting your hips slightly out of habit. “please,” you whispered, “touch me — scarecrow.”
as the words left your mouth, he was tearing your underwear clean off of you, causing you to get incredibly turned on — as if you weren’t soaking through your panties already. 
jonathan brushed his fingers against your sticky folds before slowly inserting one of his fingers into your tight hole, causing you to let out a vulgar moan as he toyed with your cunt. 
he continued to stare down at you as your back was pressed into the pillows, giving him a perfect view of your face as he watched from above. you let out a mewl as he started to pump a single digit in and out of your dripping cunt, your cheeks flushed a pretty pink shade.
“m-mm, oh my god—!” you moaned, feeling him curl his finger in a way that made your back arch. he let out a low hum before inserting a second digit, causing you to gasp. 
“jon,” you breathed, “f-fuck, yes—“
“i know, darling,” he cooed, watching you as he pumped two digits in and out of your tight, warm hole. “it’s a lot for your tight little cunt to take. i know, but don’t worry — i'll get you nice and stretched out before i bury my cock inside of you.” 
his filthy words caused you to tighten up around his fingers, making him let out a low chuckle from behind his burlap mask. “someone likes it dirty, hm?” he teased, and you let out a breathless moan. 
“c-close,” you managed to choke out. 
“who owns you?” he asked, fucking you with his fingers as he rubbed that spongy spot inside of you. 
“you!” you whimpered, “fuck, you do—“
your release hit you, hard and fast, as you clenched around his fingers. your vision was clouded with stars, pure ecstasy running through your veins. jonathan watched you like a predator watches its prey, his eyes running all over your body as he studied you through the eyeholes of his mask. 
you lay on the bed breathless, your cheeks flushed still, as he looked down at you sprawled out against the soft pillows. you could hear him breathing heavily from behind his mask — it almost gave him a power trip to see you like this; fucked out and submissive to him as he was dressed up as scarecrow. 
you let out a huff, closing your eyes for just one moment before they shot open again to the sound of his belt being unbuckled. you rubbed your thighs together and whined softly, causing jonathan to let out a low groan as his cock sprung free against his stomach, hitting the white button down shirt he wore.
he gave himself a few strokes before lining himself up with your dripping entrance. 
“how badly do you want it, baby?” he teased, rubbing his cock up against your slit slowly. 
“so bad,” you whined desperately, “please, jonathan—”
“try again.” 
“fuck, please! please, scarecrow…” you begged, hoping you’d get what you were wanting after fixing your mistake. 
it seemed to work because before you could whine anymore, you were letting out a filthy moan as he rammed himself into you, breaching your tight hole. even though you’d just taken his fingers, you hadn’t been able to fuck him for a few weeks, due to work and all — so you were taking a little longer than usual to adjust to his size. 
“m-my god, s-slow down—” you breathlessly gasped, feeling his cock pounding your cunt mercilessly as he set a fast pace.
“you can take it,” he assured you, still fucking you harshly as his hands come to grip at your throat. “keep squeezing my cock. fuck — like that.” 
you could feel him stretch out your drooling hole as you mewled, unable to form any proper sentences or get any real words out from the way he was fucking you. jonathan kept a firm vice around your neck, causing you to struggle for air slightly as his normally bright blue eyes turned about fifty shades darker. 
you didn’t know what was turning you on more — the fact that he was still dressed as scarecrow, mask and all, or how roughly he was drilling into your sopping cunt right now. 
“o-oh my god—” you whined, looking up at him breathlessly as he continued to squeeze the sides of your neck. “i-i can’t…”
jonathan was for sure having an ego trip right now — the way you were completely at his mercy as his cock pounded against your cervix, creating the perfect mix of pleasure and pain. the way you looked at him like he was your entire world — because he was — even while he was fucking you stupid. just everything about you had jonathan tripping out on ecstasy, pleasure, and dare i say love?
“what is it, my darling?” he cooed mockingly, cutting off your air supply once more with a harsh squeeze to your neck while he was balls deep in your cunt. “use your words, darling — you can do it.”
“c-can’t breathe,” you managed to rasp, your hands clawing at his, “let— go—”
satisfied with your begging, jonathan let go of your throat and placed his hands harshly onto your hips. his fingers dug into your sides as he continued to plow your pussy with no intention of stopping until you were ruined.
he could see the fear in your eyes — even if it was mixed with arousal — and it brought him closer and closer to the edge with every thrust. you, along with jonathan, were close to coming undone as well, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as pleasure consumed you.
“come,” he growled, “show me who owns this tight fucking cunt.” 
you let out a choked moan as he rammed his cock into you so deeply that you stopped breathing momentarily, before letting yourself tip over the edge. your release winded you, causing you to scream his name so loud that your neighbours would definitely know who was fucking you right. 
“jonathan! f-fuck!” you squeaked out, creaming on his thick cock. 
“scream my fucking name,” he said lowly, “that’s right — god, you feel so good.” 
he let out a low groan as he felt your walls tighten up around him, and he watched your every move as your orgasm washed over you. you looked so beautifully fucked out and mindless with every fleeting moment — it was perfection. 
it didn’t take long for jonathan to come after seeing you like this for him, and he let out a low groan, giving you a few more harsh, deep thrusts before filling you up completely with his sticky cum. he looked down at you quietly as he propped himself up above you on his arms one more, taking off his burlap mask and tossing it to the side. 
you gave your boyfriend a soft smile, letting out a huff of air as you rested your head on the satin pillows behind you.
“wow…” you said, trailing off into a soft chuckle. 
“i love seeing you all ruined for me,” he told you, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “you’re something else, you know that?”
he helped you get cleaned up afterwards, making sure to be extremely gentle and caring towards you despite almost breaking you in two just minutes prior. after he had you tucked into bed, he placed a kiss on the top of your head as you snuggled into the covers.
“i’m going to go shower,” he said casually, “go to bed, sweetheart. you’ve had a long night.”
“mm,” you mumbled sleepily, “come to bed afterwards.”
“i will,” he assured you, placing one more kiss on your head, and another softly on your lips. “...i love you.” 
“i love you too,” you said softly, yawning as you found comfort in the sheets. “goodnight, scarecrow.” 
your sleepy words caused him to let out a quiet chuckle as he admired you. the light from the moon illuminated your face dimly as it casted down on you through the bedroom window. 
jonathan sighed to himself happily. 
you may have been catwoman to the outside world — sneaky and conniving — but to jonathan, you were just…you. those so-called claws of yours were nowhere to be seen as you slept peacefully in your shared bed, dozing off under the moonlight as you waited for him to come back to bed with you. 
“goodnight, sweetheart,” he said softly.
but you were already fast asleep — dreaming of him like always.
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thefiery-phoenix · 7 months ago
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Hi I have been reading all your works and I'be got to say that its really good I mean like wow anyways I would like to request a platonic y'know fix with the oldies of lookism I mean Charles and tom Lee meeting up and Charles bragging about his child (the reader) there new awards , involvement in the business or you can do the geniuses instead of the reader being a genius she's named as the prodigy and is literally so smart like 400 IQ type shit and she literally saves the company's reputation, every genius admits shes smart and kinda like a learning genius where she doesnt have to copy it but masters whatever she wants to learn isnt a copy genius btw but can you like make the personality of the reader a bit like James like reserved nonchalant etc anyways thank you
Hello and thank you for liking my work, it really does mean a lot to have your support❤️
THE PRODIGY
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"Long time no see Choi'' spoke a hulking and imposing man that stood tall and towered over the frame of the CEO of the HNH group as Charles glanced up from his newspaper to see none other than Tom Lee, the owner of the White Tiger Job Centre (Baekho HRM), known for being the best in the business to get rid of people in a sneaky and quick manner. "Oh please, you act like we haven't seen each other in years when we just met 2 months ago'' scoffed Charles slightly but a small amused smirk formed on his face. "You look happy...whose life did you screw over, you old crone?" chuckled Tom as he took out his grey bottle from his trench coat pocket and gulped a large sip of his alcohol from it. "Oh come now, you act like I'm a criminal or something...but I didn't screw anyone over yet...for now'' said Charles as he headed over to the table nearby and shuffled a few papers till a picture of you fell out from the stack of papers as Tom's interest piqued up and peered at your picture in an interested manner
"I didn't know you started hiring girls to do your dirty work Choi...props to you for following gender equality and such'' grinned Tom as he stared at the picture. "Ah, that's my newest recruit. One of the prized gems I've had the fortune of stumbling upon. Her name is Y/N L/N'' spoke Charles proudly as the lines around his eyes crinkled slightly out of pride for you. "This is the first time I've ever heard you praise someone other than those brats Gun and Goo...I wonder what makes this one here so special that has you singing her praises'' questioned Tom as he raised a brow in curiosity, awaiting for Charles' explanation. "In a way, she's kind of like James Lee...an exceptionally skilled and talented fighter, I daresay even stronger than Gun and Goo... she has training of the Indian martial arts called Kallaripayyatu along with Krav Maga which makes quite the deadly combination when used in combat. The advantage of her using her skills is that no one can predict what she might do next. She's even more unpredictable than Goo and James because if someone faces them a couple of times they'd be able to read their attack patterns with ease. But it's different for Y/N, you'll never know when she'll whip out a chain or a knife or just fight with her bare hands... that's what makes her quite the enigmatic fighter, she isn't afraid to fight dirty as well''
"She sounds like quite the catch then...'' muttered Tom as he continued to drink his drink and stared at your picture. "She's even won an award for her literary works as a writer, the Lindenberg award and is quite the over achiever if I must admit...a real prodigy of a girl. My daughter took an instant liking to her as do I. She simply cannot stop singing her praises'' replied Charles as Tom had an amused smirk on his face. "Neither can you and the amount of stalking you do makes me look sane'' answered Tom with a cackle. Charles smirked as he replied "That was mere research...her personality is a literal carbon copy of James, completely reserved and shy and nonchalant'' "Ah, so you're dealing with a touch me not of an introvert then eh, good luck getting that one to open up to you'' said Tom as he snickered and gulped down the last sip of his drink before he stuffed his bottle back into his pocket and glanced at Charles
"Doesn't matter though, I'll have to make her open up...what she's achieved to do for my company was more than what any of the Worker's affiliates could do, they're all mere useless inexperienced children in front of her...'' scoffed Charles as he hummed slightly and his gaze left your photo to focus on the view of the night city before him, several feet below him, taking pride in the fact that he'd gotten to a point where people had to look up to HIM. "You better be careful though...a little birdie told me that Steve Hong was looking forward to meeting with Y/N L/N'' said Tom with a slight grin as Charles' posture stiffened and his jaw clenched as he narrowed his eyes. "What did you say?" he asked in a soft voice, his tone laced with malice and hidden fury. 'That old bastard...if he ever thinks he can have Y/N and steal MY prodigy from me, he's got another thing coming...he can't have her..no...I'll make sure of it...' Charles thought to himself as Tom smirked, looking like he'd just read Charle's thoughts. "You look awfully nervous of losing your beloved little prodigy...wouldn't it be a shame if someone were to snatch her up like the little feather that she is for someone else to use?" asked Tom, his cheshire cat like grin evident on his face and his eyes glinted with malicious amusement, enjoying the sight of Charles Choi on the verge of losing his cool and his patience on the line
"Let me enlighten you with a little story...a while ago Eugene tried to recruit Y/N to join the Workers and he somehow thought he could keep it quiet from me but failed. Why else do you think I decided to meet with Jake Kim, the son of Gapryong Kim that night? We both know it wasn't out of sheer pity...Y/N is my ticket to destroy the crews and the Workers and expand my empire'' said Charles as he continued to stare at the city beneath him, just how he liked it, everyone underneath him, serving him. "I sometimes forget you're more unhinged and ruthless than me...I can't say if I'm shocked or proud'' spoke Tom as he trailed off and looked like he was pondering about something. "This is coming from someone who strips his clothes off and challenges his employees to a fight to the death. It's a miracle your so called employees lasted for so long'' replied Charles as he smirked at Tom. "Touche old Choi'' grinned Tom
"I'm planning to make sure she stays close to us...to me...at my residence. Of course, I shall fund for her schooling and such'' said Charles after a few moments of silence. "Doesn't she have parents?'' asked Tom with a quirked brow as his amused smirk grew even wider. It was such a sight to see someone like him be so obsessed about someone like you, and rightfully so, Tom could understand his friend's obsession with you. You were a natural gifted fighter, the sort of fighter people would literally KILL and spill blood to have on their side. "Do you think that concerns me? Her father is a software engineer and her mother is a stay at home housewife...hardly what I call a challenge. Her potential will be wasted if she continues to live with them. I've tried to convince them before to send her to me and they had the guts to refuse me even after offering them a fortune...I am Elite...if it means I have to get rid of her parents and have their blood spilled then so be it. It will also prove as a warning for anyone foolish enough to attempt to lure her to them. Besides, I've already spilled blood before, it's nothing new. What's a bit more going to do?'' answered Charles, his eyes glinting with malice as his smirk widened. Tom was now convinced you really were the prodigy he'd heard so much about from the people around who kept on yapping about you. He was just glad he managed to wring out the information from Charles which saved him tons of amount of research as he mentally decided to pay you a visit some day...even if it meant dealing with Choi's wrath which he could always deal with later. The main goal on Tom's mind now was how to get you on HIS side...
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something-tofightfor · 11 months ago
Text
Snow and Mistletoe - Part 1
A PedroStories Secret Santa gift fic
This is my submission for @pedrostories annual holiday event, and it's for @burntheedges. I was so excited to get you as a giftee, Kate, because your requests align with the way I tend to write my stories... and this one took on a life of its own. As you can see, this is only part 1. I tried to incorporate some (a lot) of the things that you said you enjoyed into this, and I think (hope) you'll be happy with how they're scattered throughout.
This is a no-outbreak AU, and while it doesn't quite follow canon, you're going to see a fair bit sprinkled in- because I can't help it and I've wanted to write more in depth for Joel and Sarah for a LONG time, so I really enjoyed this a lot.
Thank you so much for all that you've contributed to the Pedro fandom, and for sharing your writing with us. I hope you have a very Merry Christmas.
I plan on posting the other 2 parts + the epilogue throughout the day today and tomorrow, but part 1 can be read as a standalone if you'd like.
---
Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader
No Outbreak AU.
Word Count: 5,166
Rating: M - as a whole for language and innuendo, but this chapter is very tame.
Summary: You own a music shop in Austin, and both your niece and Sarah are employees. As a former classmate - and the father of your employee - Joel Miller has been a part of your life for many years.
But circumstances have never been exactly right for the two of you to get to know each other better ... until now, when outside intervention pushes you together just in time for the holidays.
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“Ellie, go unlock the front door.” You looked up from what you were doing, pointing with one finger. “She’s going to be here any minute.” 
‘I’m kind of busy at the moment.” At her tone, you turned your head sharply, watching as she came around the corner with a stack of boxes in her arms. “You do it. Please?” When she peeked around the cardboard, she actually looked apologetic, so you agreed, hurrying toward the front entrance of your store. 
You were just in time, watching as a dark colored pick up pulled to the curb and the teenager hopped out, leaning her head back inside for a few seconds before waving and heading to where you stood. 
Pushing the glass door open, you grinned, holding it with one hand. “Morning, Sarah. How’s it going?” 
“Good.” Looking back over her shoulder, she nodded. “Really good.” 
You saw him in the truck, the man ducking his head and turning to look in your direction, giving you a view of his entire face. The windows were closed, so instead of saying anything, you lifted your hand and gave him a wave like you did every time he dropped her off - Joel nodding in return before he sat back up again and pulled back into traffic, beeping the horn once. 
You stared after him for a few seconds and then took a breath, your attention moving to the girl, still standing beside you. But she had a curious look in her face, her lips set into a tiny frown. “What?” Letting the door shut, you backed up and into the shop. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 
“I’m … not?” She blinked, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. “Is Ellie here?”
“She is.” You pointed, the stack of boxes that the other teenager had carried in already sitting on the countertop, though she was nowhere in sight. “She’s probably back in one of the lesson rooms, if you want to go back there.” Sarah’s grin nearly split her face in half, her curls bouncing when she turned to head in the direction you’d suggested. “You guys have half an hour, alright? Store opens early this month because of Christmas, and -”
“We know!” Ellie’s head popped out of one of the rooms down the hall, her smile wide, too. “That’s why I’m already set up. C’mon Sarah. Hope you’re ready.” 
You watched as she headed for the hallway, both girls talking excitedly for a few seconds before they disappeared. “Alright.” Nodding to yourself, you looked around the showroom, letting out a breath. “Let’s get ready to open.” 
— 
Six and a half hours later, you were standing outside of the front doors, drinking a coffee that you’d had delivered. 
You rarely took an actual lunch while you worked. But, Ellie and Sarah were more than capable of handling the few customers you’d had that afternoon, and the closing crew would be in to take over within the hour. And I deserve this. 
Sipping the drink, you closed your eyes and were surprised a few seconds later by a deep voice on your right. “Did’ya order one of those for me, too?” 
“No, but you can have a sip of this one as long as you don’t just want plain coffee.” Holding the cup out, you smiled as Joel took the final few steps, reaching out with one hand to take the coffee from you. “You got done early today, hmm?”
“I did.” Raising your coffee to his lips, he look a long drink, humming at the taste. “Shit that’s good.” He held it back out to you but you shook your head, motioning for him to keep it. “I can’t, I -”
“You need it more than me.” He opened his mouth to argue but then decided against it, swallowing another mouthful. “Sarah’s off in a few minutes, do you want to go inside and wait for her?”
“I’m actually here for a couple new sets of strings.” He swiped at the back of his head with one hand, jutting his chin out toward the door. “Figured it’s a good time to change ‘em, and Sarah told me you guys are having a sale.”
“We are.” You pulled the door open, gesturing for him to walk in ahead of you. “I’d offer to point you in the right direction, but you’ve been coming in here longer than I’ve owned it, so…”
“If I need anything, I’ll be sure to come an’ find you.” He smiled, raising the cup again. “Thank you for this.” You turned away from him first, going over to the counter and slipping back behind it. Ellie was leaning there, her elbows resting on the glass. 
“Joel’s here early.” She looked up at you, raising a brow. “What were you two talking about?”
“Guitar strings.” She opened her mouth but before she could say anything, you held up a hand. “Not another word, Elanor.” She snorted, standing straight up and tapping her fingers against the countertop. 
“Alright. I’ll go into the back where you won’t hear anything else I have to say.” She looked between you and the showroom floor, her eyes bright. “But Sarah’s another story.” She beelined it around the counter and then toward the hallway, calling out a hello to Joel as she sped past. He grinned at her, saying hi back. There wasn’t time for anything else before she’d disappeared, leaving the two of you - and an older man who was looking at keyboards - alone. 
You could have stared at him for hours, but instead of letting your inner thoughts win, you busied yourself with menial tasks behind the counter, not looking up until someone cleared their throat to get your attention. 
Unfortunately, it wasn’t Joel waiting to check out. Instead the other customer was in front of you, three songbooks in his hands. “Which one of these should I buy for my grandson?” He set them down, fanning them out. “His parents got him a keyboard for his birthday last month, but he can’t play anything yet.” 
“I wouldn’t choose any of these.” You answered honestly, looking between the three options. “These are all for intermediate players, and if he just got the keyboard, it sounds like -”
“But the ones that are easier are all nursery rhymes.” He scowled at you, eyes narrowing behind his glasses. “Kevin is fifteen. He’s too old for nursery rhymes.”
“If I could cut in…” You looked up to find Joel standing just behind the man, a few sets of guitar strings held between the fingers of one hand. “He might be too old to enjoy a nursery rhyme, but that doesn’t mean he should skip over learnin’ to play them.” Joel took a breath, giving you a look that clearly asked “is this alright”, and when you nodded he continued, pointing at the books. “You gotta start somewhere. Givin’ a kid something that they can’t play yet might make ‘em less likely to stick with it long term.” 
“You could buy two books,” you cut in, immensely thankful for Joel’s interjection. “One of the easier ones and then something a little more difficult that he can work up to?” You gestured to the back of the shop. “When I was teaching my niece how to play guitar, we stared with really simple things and she tried new ones when she felt comfortable.”
“Same here.” Joel stepped a little closer, nodding his head. “First day I picked up my guitar I thought I was going to be able to pull off Jimmy Page or Eddie Van Halen solos right away…” He laughed, rubbing at his beard with his free hand. “Turns out that was not the case.” You bit back a laugh at his words, watching the way his eyes crinkled at the corners in amusement. “It was months of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star and Smoke on The Water before my fingers got used to playing.” He nodded at the man, his smile smaller but still there. “Get him one of the beginner books, and then explain you want him to feel confident before he tries somethin’ harder.” 
The older man was scowling, his eyes moving between the three books on the counter until he finally looked up at you. “I’ll think about it. Thanks.” He left them there when he turned and headed for the door, pushing past Joel on his way. You watched his back until he was gone, and then finally looked at Joel again, shrugging. 
“That could have gone better.” He set the strings down  - along with two packages of picks - and then spoke after letting out a deep sigh.
“Way he reacted it’s like we were accusin’ his grandson of bein’ an idiot.” Reaching for his stuff, you began scanning it, dropping things into a small plastic bag. “It’s common sense, though. Why overwhelm someone when they’re trying to learn?”
“I wish I knew.” Finishing and giving him the total, you watched as Joel swiped his card before tucking it back into his wallet and shoving the entire thing in his back pocket. Change the subject. “Which guitar are you restringing?” 
“Both of ‘em.” He leaned forward, resting his forearm on the glass, but leaving the bag where it was. “Cleanin’ and oilin’ the fretboards, too.” He looked down at his watch and then back at you. “Might even do it tonight.” 
“What an exciting Saturday night, dad.” Sarah reappeared, followed closely by Ellie, your niece carrying another stack of boxes and a clipboard. “Maybe if you actually answered some of the messages on that dating app you have, you could go out and do things on the weekends.” 
You felt a pang of jealousy at the thought of Joel going out on a date, but tried to push it down. You hadn’t ever made it known that you were interested - especially since you’d known him and Sarah for so long. But it’s harder not to say anything now that Sarah’s working here and I see him more. 
“I do plenty of things on the weekends.” Joel straightened up, putting a hand on his hip. “I hang out with you. I see your uncle Tommy. I work on the house, and -”
“Thrilling.” Sarah rolled her eyes, nudging him with her elbow and looking at you. “I clocked out, by the way, so I’m not just like … standing here on your time.” 
“You’re fine, Sarah.” Ellie set everything down and came to stand next to you, setting the clipboard down on he counter. “I’ll -”
“Speaking of thrilling…” Ellie cut in, crossing her arms and taking a seat on the barstool behind the register. “She told me the other day she’s not going to the Christmas thing at the community center next weekend because “Fridays and Saturdays are the busiest days in the store so I scheduled myself to work.” She made air quotes and changed her voice as she spoke, sending Sarah into a fit of giggles and even causing Joel to briefly smile as his gaze made its way back to you.  
“Well I mean, it’s the truth. Next Friday is -” 
“He said the same thing.” Sarah sighed loudly, looking pointedly at you and then at Ellie. “That he’s too busy to go, and needs to work. On what, I have no idea because he’s only got the one project right now.” Glancing at Joel, you felt alarm bells ringing in your head. Something’s happening here. Something is … this isn’t… “Bet if he had a date he’d change his mind.” 
“That’s got nothing to do with it, Sarah. I -” He looked down at her and then back at you, realization in his eyes. 
“Why don’t you two go together?”  Ellie picked up a pen and started doodling on the margin of the clipboard paper, not making eye contact. “To the party, I mean. Neither of you have plans to go, and you’ve both got really lame excuses.” She paused, finally looking up. “And you haven’t been out on a date in -”
“Ellie!” You hissed out the word, feeling the way heat rose to your cheeks. She’s not wrong, but … “I have to work next weekend. It’s not -”
“Do you?” It was Joel’s voice that caught your attention, the man clearing his throat. “Because I could probably take a couple hour break.” You caught it even though it was brief - a fleeting look of shock on Sarah’s face, her eyes immediately going to Ellie. Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that either. “If you wanted to.” 
You wanted to - more than you were willing to admit. But it would be weird, even if we just did it as friends. “It’s the weekend before Christmas, and -”
“We can work.” Sarah cut in, nodding. “I’m already supposed to be here for part of the afternoon, I’ll just stay later.” She shrugged. “Besides, the store closes before the party is over, so I can just take the bus from -”
“I’ll drive you.” Ellie waved her hand. “I close next Friday.” The girls went quiet, looking between you and Joel, who was also watching you with interest, laughter in his eyes. This is … 
“I don’t know.” He frowned, keeping an eye on you as you spoke. “I feel like I should -” 
“Come outside and talk to me for a minute.” Joel picked up the bag, closing his fingers around the handles. “Away from these two.” That you had no problem agreeing to, Ellie waving you off and Sarah doing the same to her father. 
He held the door open for you, and when he joined you on the sidewalk a few seconds later, pointing in the direction of the small parking lot next to the building, you fell into step next to him. “We just got Parent Trap-ed, didn’t we.” He snorted, agreeing. “You didn’t have to ask me just to -”
“Who says that’s what I’m doing?” You reached his truck, Joel unlocking it and setting the bag down on top of the center console. “Maybe I just want to get to know you.” He straightened back up and closed the door, leaning against it when he turned to look at you. “Sarah’s been workin’ with you for six months, and she an’ Ellie have been going to school together for a couple years.” So that’s the only reason? Because of them? Your face fell; you couldn’t help it, and even though you were able to even out your expression quickly, you were sure that he’d noticed. 
“Yeah, I mean … they’re friends. So it would make sense for us to be, too.” Pressing your lips together, you nodded. “If you’re serious, I’ll go with you.” Crossing your arms, you nodded again, chewing on the inside of your lip. “It’s just a couple of hours, right? “ 
“Right.” Joel swallowed, running his fingers through his hair. “I can pick you up? Makes sense to take one car.” He’s so practical. Everything’s … matter of fact. In all of the daydreams you’d ever had about Joel, you’d never had anything close to the one that was coming true, and if you were honest with yourself, it was disappointing. He said your name, interrupting your pity party, and when you looked back up, he’d relaxed a little more, reaching into his pocket and pulling his phone out. “Can I have your number?
You recited it to him, Joel carefully typing it into the device and then turning the screen around to confirm that he’d entered it correctly. When you told him that you had, you nodded twice and took a deep breath, holding it. “Alright, Joel… so I’ll see you next week?” 
“No.” He smiled, the expression genuine. “I’ll see you next time I pick up or drop Sarah off and you’re here, too.” That made you laugh. When you said goodbye, you were slightly less unsettled than you had been, heading back for the store’s door so that you could tell Sarah it was ok for her to leave. 
She and Ellie were still standing by the counter when you went back inside, both of them turning to look at you in the same moment. “You’re good to go, Sarah. Your dad’s in the parking lot.” She nodded, zipping her jacket up. “But before you go… I don’t know what the two of you are trying to do here, but putting Joel and I on the spot wasn’t -”
“You’re going out with him, aren’t you?” Ellie scrunched her face up as she looked at you, eyes narrowing. “And you like him, so -”
“It made things awkward, El.” You looked at Sarah, sighing. “For him, too. So just … think about that, alright?” 
Neither of them said anything else to you, Sarah telling Ellie goodbye and then walking out the front door, leaving you and your niece alone. “Are you mad at me?”
“I’m not mad.” You exhaled, rubbing at your eyes. “It’s just … weird.” And even weirder because of how awkward it feels.  The door opened and two customers walked in, effectively ending the conversation there, though you knew that you’d be continuing it when you got home. 
— 
You and Ellie made dinner together that night, but neither of you spoke while you did it, moving through the kitchen silently. It wasn’t until you were sitting at the table together, bowls of pasta in front of you that you broke the silence. 
“Why did you and Sarah decide to do that today?” She took a bite, chewing through it to give herself a chance to think of an answer. 
“Ever since I’ve been giving her lessons, we’ve been talking a lot more.” She bit down on a breadstick, waving the remainder in the air. “We’re friends already, but I’ve never really asked her about Joel until now, and …” She shrugged. “She said he hasn’t dated much lately. All he does is work and hang out with his brother and spend time with her.” Ellie paused, making sure to make eye contact with you. “Kind of like you only work at the store and hang out with me.” 
“That’s not true.” You gestured at her with your fork. “I have friends, Ellie. We just see each other less than we used to because they’ve all got really young kids and do that ‘mommy and me’ stuff with them.” Arching a brow, you cocked your head to the side. “And you’re a little old for tumbling classes or playtime at the park.” 
“But I could use swimming lessons.” You both laughed at that, though Ellie cut hers off only a few moments later. “No but seriously. When you took me in so that I could finish school here instead of going with Marlene, I didn’t think … I didn’t want you to just give up doing everything but …”
“Ellie, that’s not what happened.” You got up, moving to the other side of the table and sitting down next to her. “Your mom and Marlene and I were all really close, and after … after Anna was gone, I was more than happy to help Marlene out with you.” You squeezed her arm, leaning in. “I was the one that suggested you staying here, El. Your mom grew up here, and I wanted you to do the same. I didn’t want you having to uproot yourself every eight months for Marlene’s job. I love having you here. I didn’t give up anything.” 
She looked up then, meeting your eyes, and you saw uncertainty in them, though it was accompanied by relief. “I know. I just … it feels like everyone always leaves, and I’m afraid that you’re going to realize that you don’t want to do this with me anymore, and -”
“Ellie, you’ll be 18 next year and off to college. If anyone’s going to leave it’s you.” Taking a deep breath, you held your arms out to her. “I’m not going to leave you, kiddo. I promise.” She hugged you hard, but it didn’t last long, Ellie pulling away to look directly at you again. 
“This still doesn’t change the fact that you and Joel should … see what happens.” She blinked a few times, her expression changing into the same ‘take no shit’ look that you’d seen on it countless times before. “We’ve noticed how you look at him. And he -”
“He and I are going to the party together next Friday, Ellie.” Settling back into your chair, you drummed your fingers on the table. “He told me tonight that since you and Sarah are such good friends, it makes sense that we get to know each other, too.” She frowned at your words, but didn’t say anything. “It’s just a couple hours. It’ll be … fine.” 
“He said that? That’s not what we …” She shook her head, setting her fork down. “I’m done. Can I be excused? Do you need help cleaning up?” You told her to go, eyeing Ellie as she headed into the kitchen, plate in hand. You were used to her changes in mood, but that night was different, Ellie almost disappointed in your reaction to agreeing to go out with Joel, even though she’d orchestrated it. Returning to your side of the table, you finished your dinner, the sound of Ellie’s voice from the other room audible, though you couldn’t hear what she was saying. 
She went upstairs a few minutes later, and you followed, deciding to get ready for bed, even though it was early. I’ll put on pajamas and watch a movie or something. Maybe have a glass of - You were interrupted by the vibration of your phone, an unfamiliar number on the screen. 
“Hello?” Standing in front of your bedroom window, you held it to your ear. “This is -”
“It’s Joel.” Your eyes widened when he spoke, the man’s voice even deeper through the phone than it was in person. “I hate texting, so I thought I’d call.” You weren’t surprised, a quiet laugh escaping you before you were able to stop it. Fitting. “I was just informed by my daughter that I didn’t exactly explain myself well earlier.”
“What?” You didn’t understand - and then you groaned, covering your face with your hand. “Ellie. Ellie called Sarah and told her what we … Joel, I’m so sorry. Ellie and I talked while we ate, and I don’t want you to think that I was just complaining or -”
“You misunderstood what I was sayin’ before. Outside? When we were talking?” He cleared his throat and then continued. “You and I should be friends because of Ellie an’ Sarah. But that’s not why I agreed to go next week.” He paused, giving the shock you felt a chance to settle in your stomach. Why then? “I meant it when I said I wanted to get to know you.” 
That conversation was more in line with what you’d imagined Joel asking you out to be like, and despite your apprehension, you felt yourself relax slightly at his words. “I’d like to get to know you too, Joel.” Pressing your lips together, you nodded. “Sarah’s said some really good things about you.” 
“Ellie’s done the same about you when she’s been over.” He laughed - and you did, too, the tension entirely broken. “We’re going to watch a move, though, and she’s yellin’ up the steps at me, so I’ve gotta go.” He said your name then, the sound quiet - though his tone was certain. “When do you work next?” 
“Monday. I close. Why?” 
“No reason.” He hummed, and you heard another voice on Joel’s end of the line, the sound of Sarah shouting for him filling up the background. “I’ll talk to you later. Have a good night?” 
You assured him you would, and when you’d both hung up, you spent a few seconds staring at the darkened screen, unsure of what to think. 
— 
Monday night, you were getting ready to close the store and count down the drawer when the door opened, the sound of footsteps drawing your attention. “Hi, and welcome to Firefl- Joel? What are you doing here? Something wrong with those strings?” 
“Strings’re fine.” He stepped up to the counter and you couldn’t help looking him over - the man’s upper body encased in a long-sleeved shirt, both sleeves pushed up to expose his forearms. “I came to see you.” 
You were shocked. The day hadn’t exactly gone smoothly, and you were almost desperate to get out of the store and home. But not at the expense of whatever this is. “Me? Why? Is Sarah -”
“Sarah’s fine, too. She’s at soccer practice.” He glanced down at his watch, nodding. “I gotta go and pick her up in about twenty minutes.” That meant that whatever he was doing in your store wouldn’t take long, which confused you even more. “I have somethin’ for you.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small envelope, sliding it across the counter. “Here.” 
You picked it up and thumbed it open, unsure of what to expect. And when you saw the contents, you actually laughed, looking up from what you held and at Joel’s face, the man’s lips set into a lopsided smile. “You took like … half a coffee from me one time, Joel. You didn’t need to …” Flipping the gift card back and forth between your fingers, you sighed. “Thank you.” You meant it, reaching over with your free hand to squeeze the one he’d let settle on the countertop. “I’ll definitely use it.” 
He looked down at the same time you did, your inhale sharp when you saw your joined hands. Oh, shit. I didn’t … “You’re welcome.” Joel cleared his throat, looking back up at you through his eyelashes. “Gift card was just an excuse, though. There’s…” He straightened up again and then pulled his hand back, reaching up with it to rub at the back of his neck. “Shit, I’m bad at this.” 
“Bad at what?” Sliding the card back into the envelope, you leaned over to tuck it into the space next to the register. “What are you -”
“Sarah and Ellie mighta been responsible for the other night, but …” He wet his lips, Joel’s jaw twitching before he continued. “She was right when she said I’ve only got one project right now, because we just finished another big one.” You’d heard Sarah mention that he’d been working long hours, but she hadn’t gone into much detail. “The company we did the work for is … real happy with the outcome, and they’re …” He cleared his throat. “They’re havin’ a Christmas party next Saturday, and we’re invited. I was just gonna go with Tommy, because I figured even though it’s a holiday, it’s still a good time for networkin’, but…” 
“But what?” You tucked the gift card back in the envelope and then slid it toward the register, tilting your head. “Joel?” 
He looked away, eyes wandering over the assortment of instruments and equipment on display throughout the store before they landed back on you. He was apprehensive - you could see the uncertainty in his eyes. What is going on? “Would you have any interest in goin’ with me?” 
“To the party?” He nodded. “Next Saturday?” He nodded again, but all you could do was stare at him in shock, trying to comprehend his words. Going together to the Chamber party was one thing - you and Joel were both well known throughout the community, and the two of you spending time together wouldn’t raise any eyebrows. But at a function for his job? Where he’d be the only one I really know? That’s… “As a favor? Just so you don’t have to -”
“No. As a date.” He swallowed hard after he’d spoken, his eyes widening slightly. “My date.” 
“Are you sure that’s a good idea? We’ve never spent -”
“I don’t know yet.” His smile widened, Joel shrugging. “But I’m still asking.” 
You laughed, the sound nervous. “I only work until 3. What time would I need to be ready?”
“I can pick you up around six?” He swiped a hand over his beard, nodding. “Take us about a half hour to get there.” Taking someone to a holiday party as a date says something. And we’ve never … he’s asking me to … shit. “Before you agree, though…” Joel took a deep breath, his voice steadier. “The project we worked on is a new hotel up near Lake Travis. And they’re openin’ the rooms to people that night.” So it’s an overnight thing? “If you say yes, I’m more than happy to drive back.” 
“Would we have two rooms?” Your heartbeat elevated, you eyed him with interest. “Or two beds, at least?”
“Two rooms. They offered a room to me an’ Tommy each, so if you come with me, you’d have one of them to yourself.” He held up a hand, shaking his head back and forth. “I’m not expectin’ anything, I just -”
“Yes.” You nodded, absolutely certain in your decision. “I’d like to go with you, Joel.” He looked surprised, his lips parting, though he didn’t speak. “Is there a dress code?” 
“Yeah. There is.” He pressed his lips together and then frowned. “Festive.” You burst out laughing at that, covering your eyes with your hands. “Why are you laughing?”
“Festive can mean anything from an ugly sweater to red and green but formal, and -”
“The hell if I’m wearin’ that.” He snorted, and then started laughing, too. “The invitation wasn’t real clear, so…”
“Festive probably means cocktail attire, Joel, but with a holiday twist that isn’t as formal.” You shrugged. “But that works for me. I’ve got a few things that will fit that requirement.” And so do the stores. “Um.” Blowing out a breath, you tried to compose yourself. “Are … does Sarah know you’re asking?”
“No.” He shook his head, chewing on his bottom lip. “She knows I’m goin’, but not about this.” So I won’t tell Ellie. Got it. “Those little shits intervened with me asking you to the other party, but not this one.” Biting back another laugh, you nodded in agreement. 
“They’re going to figure it out.” Narrowing your eyes, you leaned in. “When we’re both getting ready and then gone next Saturday night, and -”
“Yep.” He nodded, the expression on his face serious, though the look in his eyes was anything but. “But at least we won’t have to listen to ‘em all week beforehand.” You laughed again, rolling your eyes. “I’m gonna go, though. I don’t want to be late picking her up.” 
You nodded, lifting your hand and waving - not trusting yourself to speak. But when he reached the door and turned his head to look back at you from over his shoulder, you couldn’t stop yourself. “Joel?” He hummed, arching a brow. “I’m looking forward to next weekend.” 
He smiled - a broad, genuine one - and reached up to rub at the back of his neck. “Yeah. Me too.”
---
Part 2
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planetdream · 4 months ago
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Types of mafia bosses/position in the gang for skz? I've got the brain rot for this lately I blame the pics of them in suits and shit; I just imagine loads of tattoos too and yep I may do this to myself. But anyways, thoughts? Or thots?
can't wait to find out who of them is the first to get a real tattoo 😻😻 i will go batshit fr but i do love me some good organized crime (goodfellas is one of my favorite movies of all time, and ive written scarface fanfic, been thinking about watching the sopranos) also so so so sorry bc this was sent in may and clearly I took my sweet time answering this 🥺
cw; organized crime (i just love saying that) (non desc.) violence n drugs n sex 😻😻
let me preface this by saying, bear with me, because although i gave this a lot of thought, it lowkey reads like a random cluster thoughts lmao. anyway, i came to the conclusion that if i ever were to potentially expand on this concept more 👀👀👀 that in my head, the boys are split into two crime families, with chan and minho being the two bosses. think of their dorm arrangements (3racha/hyune + minho and the minhoettes; if those are still their arrangements ? lol). i would also say the two families are on fairly decent terms.
chan, or should I say, chris, is the stereotypical mob boss who chooses to shield his lover from the violence and drug side of his work—but has no issue showering them with the drug and violence money. if you haven't seen goodfellas, there's a scene where karen asks henry for money to go shopping before he leaves, and he gives her half of this thick stack of cash before she drops to her knees and well... yeah. not sure why, but it gives channie vibes, imo. like he hates to be pulled away from his work, but if his baby needs him for a few minutes, even an hour or two, it isn't a problem.
i'd say as a mob boss, he's one that lurks in the shadows—he likes to protect his peace, to an extent. he'll pop out and show his face every once in a while to remind others of his territory. he's always going to get his lick back, but he plays things strategically as he's not someone who makes brash decisions; it might not happen now, but it will happen. he also tries to give back to his community and those who raised him within his neighborhood, etc. he's all about strong family bonds and despite him being feared; despite all the blood and threats, the violence and damage; he craves to be loved.
changbin, strikes me as someone who is eternally faithful to the family. maybe..even to a fault (if this were a scorsese film, i feel he'd be one of the last to be murdered; and it probably happens off screen lol). but because he is loyal, he is most definitely chan's second in command, a real right hand man. if anything has happened to chan, then changbin knows that he must not hesitate, he must not mourn or act out—but to learn from chan and play things strategically. he must assume the role of the don. off topic, imo, he's someone that might show off his partner. bringing them to poker nights so all the others can drool over them. his lover is his prize and he'd go above and beyond for them. (has definitely been set up by a lover so he doesn't trust easily, but when he does, whew, he falls head first)
hyunjin is in it for the moneyyyy.. feel like he just wants to show off and get girls (and the mens...👀) and do drugs. he just wants to have fun, most importantly. life is like a video game to him; he's kinda just doing a bunch of side quests—but he knows everyone and everything, a real socialite. kinda perceive him as a friend of the mob who has serious drug connects. since he's everywhere all the time, just being in others business feeling like the cops would be trying for yearsss to pin him on murder or intent to distribute charges but they've only got him for possession once.
now jisung confuses me just a bit. originally i wrote this paragraph about how jisung and felix remind me of lenny from shark tale (another scorsese classic, sorta). they don't seem to be cut out for the life of crime and would rather just leave and be their true selves. but them mfs r not sharks!! leaving can be potentially dangerous and often has consequences (and those two would like to keep their fingers and well, their lives).
that being said, i had been internally debating on whether or not jisung would be perceived as someone who could potentially squeal if pressured heavily—which definitely would affect his rank/status.... but I think he's dedicated to prove himself in the life he was given. likely starts of simple; he's selling drugs n stuff. then, he's even handled a couple hits—so now he's looked at with respect when around everyone. and if he's honest, to be accepted and respected means a lot to him. he almost wears his murder count with such pride. has been told time and time again, not to act irrationally.
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minho, is ruthless, and would like for his other half to be equally as ruthless. for that reason, he doesn't care to shield any of his work from you, and often asks for your opinion on things. if you're in the club and somebody hits on you or tries to start shit he wants you to be able to handle yourself; thus he recognizes you are your own person and not his property. i feel like minho would want to damn near fear his lover. yet I also view him as someone who is nowhere near ready for a relationship (doesn't have the time, he says) but is always at the right longitude and latitude to fuck yk?
because min is a scorpio I am also inclined to say that he is also a boss that lurks in the shadows—pulling strings behind the scenes. he's not a show off and he's not much of a talker either so but you better believe his actions speaks volumes. he fears no one and will more than definitely make sure he makes an example out of those who fuck up. low-key god complex; everything works out in his favor, especially if he's the last one standing.
nobody knows felix is apart of a crime family and he likes to keep it that way. he flies under the radar and because of it, he's made things that seem impossible happen. he gives a very trustworthy vibe, people feel comfortable around him—he deceiving them. but it's gotten him certain connections, through certain doors, and he's learned heavy secrets (blackmail champion). his kill count is unknown. no like he flies so far under the radar, not much is known about him. still, he says a lot about himself without saying too much.
thinking that seungmin is minho's right hand—his MOST trustworthy. yet I can also see seungmin as someone who may have ulterior motives: he's making his own moves and plays behind everyones back and can be perceived as untrustworthy if anyone knew simply due to the nature of what he's doing (building his own empire maybe who knows) honestly gives hitman vibes if im real (I think there's a very thin line between hitman and serial killer yk and well...hitmen don't take trophies...) seungmin is fr someone who shouldn't be crossed. isn't into dating but he might fuck around once or twice
jeongin chases that dream to be a Made Man™ since being a kid (similar to henry in goodfellas) I would say that he's really reliable. well, until he's not. he's handsome and the ladies love him, what can he say? thus, he stays IN the club unless there's an important play to be made. he's crossed between living his young life [drugs, parties, fucking] and going for his dreams and really committing to the mob life. every so often he has phase where he's getting back into the loop of things until something traumatic happens then he's off on a 4 day binger,,
very interesting indeed.....would love to chat more on this hmm
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itmeansiris · 2 months ago
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The Solar System Legacy Challenge: Good Morning Brindleton Bay Gen 1 pt.58
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With all the birthdays past and the house renovation's mostly finished, the family finally got some much needed rest and relaxation that weekend. With Spirit and little cousins Van and Mitchell as long term houseguest the place felt warm and full of life and love.
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Spirit (as always) was the first awake. She makes a fresh batch of orange juice before she sits in the living room turning on the weather, when Kason joins her. They chat for a while before Spirit gets up and heads to the kitchen.
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Kason: I can take care of breakfast, rest.
Spirit: My dear an old women has few pleasures. Feeding my family is one of them.
She whips up a batch of Belgian waffles. The delectable smell of sweet batter, berries and sugar stirred some of the household occupants awake. Van and Mitchell were first, greeting Spirit before jumping in to help by taking out the trash. Kason joins them, grabbing a mop to cleaning up someone's paint mess.
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Kason: Those smells amazing.
Spirit: It's an old family recipe. I used to make them on snow days when Mercury and Beckett were young. Would get them right out of bed, and at the table. Come to think of it, it worked pretty well on Jorden too.
Spirit added the final touches to breakfast before calling the guys to come and eat.
The smell of breakfast too much to deny, M and Aphrodite join the now empty table.
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Aphrodite: Good morning mom, morning Nana.
M: Morning mom, Morning sweetie. Is that grannies waffle recipe?
Spirit: The one and only. Come have a seat.
M and Dite dive into their stacks of waffles. M closes her eyes for a moment, remembering mornings with her own grandmother in the kitchen.
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M: It's good to have you around mom.
Her voice cracks with emotion.
Spirit: None of that. Finish your breakfast. I want to get the kids dressed and take them to the Farmers Market in town today.
Between a mouth full of waffle M agrees.
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M: Sounds like a fun idea doesn't it. Maybe you guys can stop and pick up new backpacks for the kids they start school Monday. With all the parties it kind of fell to the back of my mind.
Spirit: Absolutely! I loved school shopping with you and Beckett.
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Aphrodite isn't as quick to jump on the idea.
Aphrodite: But mom, this weekend is the "Giddy up" horse show. I was hoping you would take me.
M: Sweetie we would have needed tickets for that weeks ago. I'm sorry. How about this, next weekend you and I will take a ride to Chestnut Ridge and we'll go horseback riding just you and me. How's that sound?
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Aphrodite: Promise?!
M: Promise.
That earned her a smile and a hug.
Aphrodite: Your the best, mom. Nana, thanks for breakfast.
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After polishing off the last of her waffles, M wakes Zohreh and brings him down for breakfast. Kason is at her heels.
Kason: Good morning handsome guy. Good morning beautiful.
He pulls her against him in a kiss too hot for a room full of children. They'd been so busy lately it felt like they'd hardly had time to enjoy each other romantically.
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M: Mmm, that's the kind of kiss that makes you want to stay in bed.
Kason: I'd like to have you in bed but I've got a meeting this afternoon that I can't miss.
M: On a Saturday?
Kason: I used PTO for both birthday parties, I figured it’s the least I can do for Greg. On the way home I’ll pick you up a scone from the Pumpkin Patch Cafe.
M: Throw in a cinnamon bun and you’re free.
Kason: You drive a hard bargain but I think I can make room for a cinnamon bun and a Pumpkin Spice Latte.
He kisses her again.
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M: You spoil me.
Kason: I intend to collect on this sweet deal of yours when I get back.
He whispers close to her ear.
Kason: I intend to have you in our bed all night.
She flushes suddenly in a flirty mood. Her face warms and she looks around to see the room has gotten even more crowded with Ishtar and Venus finally joining everyone downstairs.
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Venus: Can I have an extra waffle Nana?
Spirit: Then your brother would have less.
Ishtar: That’s okay Nana, she can have it.
Venus: YES!
Spirit: Sweet Ishtar. That’s a good boy.
Aphrodite: Geez Venus, do you have to be so loud?
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Venus: YES! YES! I LOVE WAFFLES!
M smiles at the chaos. Kason grabs a berry from Venus plate
Venus: DAD! Hey, that was my blueberry!
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Kason: You got your brother’s waffle you can spare a berry kiddo.
Aphrodite stands off to the side looking slightly bored with the rowdy exchange.
Aphrodite: I'm going to get ready for the market. Can you guys hurry up please.
The rowdy group hurries to finish breakfast and get dressed for the day.
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After Kason leaves for his meeting and Spirit and the kids head to the Farmers Market Mercury goes into her office, turns on the computer and opens up the draft for her book.
PREV
NEXT
@kiarasims4mods Travel to Menu
@littlbowbub grannies cookbook
@srslysims Complete cooking overhaul (Juice maker)
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takerfoxx · 5 days ago
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On the night of the election, I had an honest-to-God dream where I woke up and found out that Harris had shockingly come in from behind and won the election. I remember how relieved I was that the nightmare had been averted. That we did choose to not elect a senile fascist back into office. That most of my country weren't willing choosing evil over progress.
Then I woke up, literally and figuratively.
Obviously, this has been a heavy blow. Honestly, as someone who was raised as a conservative Christian, who was a huge fan of Linkin Park, Kanye West, JK Rowling, Joss Whedon, Neil Gaiman, and the Undertaker for years, and who felt like I could trust my friends and family to have my back, it's been like these last few years have been a relentless train of disappointment and disillusionment in everything and everyone I once believed in and looked up to, and who I would go to for escape when things were bad. I know you should never meet your heroes, but damn, could they just have been like salty jerks who were caught being mean to the waiter instead of fascists, abusers, bigots, and so on? Could the entire world view that I had been raised in and fervently believed for over half my life not have turned out to be so awful? And yeah, I'm including the friends and family part in that as well.
Obviously, since the election, there's been a lot of finger pointing. Did Harris run a bad campaign? Did she abandon the working class? Was it the Gaza issue? Was it the fault of moral abstainers or third-party voters?
And honestly, I get it. Given the sheer horror of what we're facing, I get being frustrated with people who don't help and/or vote against their own interests only to go all Shocked Pikachu face when the worst possible scenario occurs. But I've been doing some thinking, and I personally believe that even if all those groups came out in support of Harris, whether it be because they do support her or even just as a way to block Trump, she still would have lost. This is the first time in a long time that a Democratic nominee lost the popular vote, after all. I think Biden would have lost too, and he only won in 2020 because of the very unique circumstances caused by the pandemic.
I think we need to face the facts. America's been sliding into fascism for decades.
Reagan. The extremism that erupted after 9/11. Birtherism. Gamergate. The Manosphere. The far right has been busy, whether it be stacking the deck politically or pinpointing the fears and insecurities of every generation and tuning their messaging to draw people in. They tell them what they want to hear, that it's not their fault that they aren't getting what the American dream promised them, and it's all the fault of (insert minority group here). It's been targeted. It's been methodical. And it's been working.
Trump won. He's going to get away with everything. The far right won. This sucks. I wish I had some inspiring words about never giving up the fight, but I'm not that guy. And honestly, I'm starting to feel that spiteful part of me come out, the one that sort of hopes that everything does get much worse so that every braindead moron who voted against their best interests gets exactly what they got coming to them.
But I also know how dangerous that line of thinking of. So please, Do NOT listen to me. There are plenty of people still rallying the troops, still encouraging people to fight, people who are in far more danger than I am. I'll be fine. I'm just a tired and disappointed middle-aged white guy living in a boring California suburb. I'm safe. But there's a lot of people that aren't. And those are the voice that you need to be listening to.
As for me, I'm not giving up, I'm going to keep voting, going to keep supporting the causes I believe in, and going to keep helping how I can. But I'm also going to go away for a while. Not long, probably just a few weeks or so. But I'm going to disengage from social media for a bit to keep from doomscrolling and just focus on writing, because that's all I really know how to do. And when I do come back, I'll have a lot more stuff for you guys.
In the meantime, please be good to yourselves. Be good to those who are scared and hurting. The world needs you in it, now more than ever.
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fandomsnstuff · 1 year ago
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this just started as me wanting to complain about the work it takes to prep a house to sell but now it's kind of an au
@taznovembercelebration
Day 15: vampire au/last
Kravitz is moving for possibly the last time in his very, very long life, and he ruminates a little on what got him to this point.
Read it on AO3
Barry drops another cardboard box into the growing sea of stuff in the garage. “One thing I wish I'd considered before becoming immortal was all the moving.”
“Tell me about it,” Taako says, writing his name on a piece of painter's tape and slapping it on a garbage bag of clothes. “One second I'm joining my hot ancient vampire boyfriend in his immortal curse, and next thing I know, I've moved fifteen times in the last hundred years.”
“We haven't moved fifteen times,” Kravitz skirts around him with another box. “This is only number ten.”
“That's still too many.”
He drops the box on top of Barry's. “It wasn't nearly this much work when it was just me in apartments and such. But four times the people, four times the stuff.”
Taako points at him, “this is the last time. New vamps, new start, new system. Taako can't be doing all this physical labour every couple of years for eternity.”
Barry leans against a stack of boxes. “Maybe this is why you deemed immortality a curse. You've been spending your eternal life doing one of the worst chores an adult can do.” Kravitz just shrugs. Barry says, “this'll be good. The land's nice and far from any prying eyes, and the house Magnus and Julia designed is beautiful.”
“No! More! Moves!” Taako chants.
“Okay,” Lup comes into the garage, “Magnus is on his way with the truck and reinforcements, so he'll start taking loads of stuff to the new house. Stager comes tomorrow, carpets get cleaned Wednesday, pictures Thursday, and we're in business by the weekend.”
“Let's sell this bitch,” Taako says.
A few months later, the old house has sold, and they're settling into their new, custom-built home. Kravitz is sitting out back, watching Lup and Taako argue about toppings by the pizza oven. His heart swells.
He'd been alone for so long. As far as he knew, he was the only vampire left. His life became an exhausting, monotonous dance of isolation. Running from place to place the moment he felt any whiff of suspicion in his direction. But then he met Taako. Handsome, wondrous, stubborn Taako.
Kravitz had wanted to run the moment he realised Taako had taken an interest. But when he started packing his things and looking for a new place, for the first time in centuries, he hesitated. Taako was the first interesting thing to happen to him in ages. Maybe he deserved to have a little fun.
“A little fun” quickly turned into deep, unavoidable love. So Kravitz tried to blow it up. He told Taako they couldn't be together, he walked away and blocked his number and ran. But Taako isn't so easily swayed. Through avenues that Kravitz is still in the dark about, he tracked him down and banged on his door until he was granted entry and an explanation. So Kravitz told him what he was. He told him they couldn't be together because Taako would age and Kravitz wouldn't and after a few decades he would be alone again. He didn't want to know a life of companionship if he was going to lose it in the blink of an eye.
And Taako laughed. He laughed until he had tears trickling down his face. He said, “you thought I didn't know? Babe, the moment you brought me home I knew. I don't give a fuck, all my friends are freaks.”
Kravitz met Taako's friends, and they all seemed normal to him. “Magnus?”
“Werewolf. And Julia.”
“Davenport?”
“Shapeshifter.”
“Merle?”
“Fae.”
“Lucretia?”
“Merfolk.”
Kravitz hesitates, because there's no way he's anything but human, but he has to ask, “Barry?”
“I'll give you three guesses.”
“...no.” Taako smirked. Kravitz stared at him wide-eyed. “There's absolutely no way.”
“Full blooded vampire.”
“Full blooded?!”
“The man has never had a drop of human blood in his veins.”
Kravitz pushed his hands into his hair. “I thought I was the only one left.”
Taako patted his back, “you just didn't know where to look.”
He looked at Taako. “Are you…?”
“I'm the only full human in the group.”
“What about Lup?”
“We still don't really know what she did, but she kind of Danny Phantom-ed herself and has been able to willingly shift to a phantasmal form for a few years now, so,” he shrugs, “she's human, but also maybe half dead? I try not to think about it too much.”
That conversation, as… mind blowing as it was, was the start of the rest of Kravitz's life. Taako made some very compelling arguments and convinced him to come back and try again. It was just under a year after that when he turned Taako. He was hesitant to do it, but was convinced when Taako reminded him that all his friends were immortal, and if he wasn't going to do it, he'd go to Barry, “and I'm not into him like that, so I'd rather not.”
On the back porch, watching the twins, Kravitz finally understands the concept of a forever home. Why spend eternity running when you could travel and have fun and do much more pleasant things than packing? And why not give yourself a soft place to land when you need to rest?
Barry comes outside and sits next to him, holding out a drink. “They're still at it?”
Kravitz takes it. “Yeah. Though they've moved from olives to anchovies.”
Barry chuckles and shakes his head. “I think they'll still be arguing about it when the next ice age comes around.”
Kravitz laughs, and they sit in a comfortable silence for a while. “Hey Barry. You've been around a while.”
“Sure have.”
“So you've been navigating life as an immortal for a long time. Like, almost as long as I have.”
“You've got maybe two hundred years on me, but yeah.”
“Then why the fuck did you let me move the four of us through ten houses in the last hundred years?!”
Barry laughs long and loud. He sighs. “Oh, my god,” he wipes a stray tear away, “I was wondering if you'd put that together.”
“Well?!”
“Oh, man,” he clears his throat. “You'd been on your own for so long, and set in your ways, and so afraid of being discovered, we thought it'd be best to do things your way for a while. To let you get used to us and the group and what have you.”
Kravitz narrows his eyes. Barry bites his lip like he's trying not to laugh again. “There's more. Spill it, Bluejeans.”
“Lup and I made a bet on how many moves Taako could go through before it got to him.” He takes a sip of his drink. “I won, for once.”
Kravitz considers this. “What'd you win?”
He smirks. “You don't want to know.”
“Ugh!” Kravitz stands. “Gross, I don't want to know about your sex bets.”
“I didn't say anything about sex!”
“A non answer is still an answer,” he turns to go back inside, “next time just lie and say money!”
Barry shouts after him, “this is your life forever now!”
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eunchancorner · 21 days ago
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Revenged and Rescued (Part 4)
I did say I was probably gonna keep going today. I'm on a roll that NO ONE can stop
-
“This is where you’ll be sleeping,” Charles announced as he showed Henry to a medium green tent. Inside were two cots; the one on the right was surrounded by crates, the one on the left stood alone.
“I, as your rescuer, have been given the opportunity to keep an eye on you at night. So, of course, I’ve already called dibs on the cot to the right. Also, if I wake up in, like, the middle of the night, don’t worry about it. I’ve been having these weird dreams lately and they keep waking me up at night. Don’t worry, I’ve already gone to medical about it, they say it’s just something to do with my innermost fears and should go away once my brain realizes it’s not gonna fucking happen,” the pilot began to ramble as Henry approached his cot. Other than the pillow and thin blanket, his side of the tent was completely empty. No possessions to speak of nor clothes to change into.
“... and of course, Eel has already somewhat schooled me on helping keep up with your maintenance, since the rest of the tech squad’s usually busy and medical has to focus on our wounded- by the way, you don’t mind that I’m gonna have to help with that stuff, right? It’s gonna get kinda personal, since it’s your whole spine, and your chest and entire left arm and all,” Charles cut into Henry’s thoughts with the question, and he looked over at him.
“Oh? Uh, yeah, sure, I guess. I’ll have to get used to it, but it shouldn’t be a big deal,” he assured the pilot as he sat down.
“Good, good… Oh, by the way, we sent some of our guys down to your place. I hope you don’t mind, it was just to grab some clothes. And if there’s anything important there, I could ask them to run back out there. It won’t be too much trouble, since most of our pilots are just kinda hanging out right now. They also grabbed your bag from that barge in the North Sea, since it seemed really important to you.”
“My bag?! Oh my God, I completely forgot about it after… Oh, you guys are lifesavers!” Henry covered his face as he sighed in sudden relief. 
“Yeah, here, it should be in this crate,” Charles pushed a crate over, the words ‘H. Stickmin Possessions’ stamped onto it in bold letters. With a grunt, Henry pried the lid open, and sure enough, there was a black fanny pack laid carefully on top of a few stacks of clothes. He picked it up and slung it over his shoulder, slipping the bag portion effortlessly onto his back, sighing in relief.
“I’m complete now, I can die happy now that this thing is safe,” he sighed, plopping backwards onto the cot, earning a quiet laugh from Charles.
“Don’t you die on me again, we just got you back!” he giggled, grabbing Henry’s arm and pulling him back into a seated position. He sat next to him, holding up with one arm so he didn't try to fall back again. “You're stuck with me now, Henry!”
“Well, well, look at that.”
The two looked up to see General Galeforce standing in the tent entrance, watching the two with a small smile.
“Hey, General!” Charles greeted, his smile still bright as he pat Henry on the back. “Look who decided he did wanna be my friend!”
“I see. I have to admit, I'm very glad he did. How've you been holding up, Henry?”
“It was a rough start, but it's been getting easier. Charles is actually pretty great company, too, so that's been helping me feel better,” Henry admitted to the veteran.
“I've been telling him all about his upgrades, life on the base, he even got to meet my squad!” Charles told his superior excitedly.
“I see. You've always been a talker, Charlie… well, Henry, I've got someone else who wants to talk to ya.”
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betweenthings2 · 12 days ago
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“this was supposed to make you happy!” @ me reading your prompts and getting emo
Thank you for the ask!! I'm so, so, so very sorry it took me so long to write this, I have no good excuse. The prompt list is here, though, if anyone wants to see it =)
Reactions to making someone cry- "This was supposed to make you happy"
George hears the front door open, then shut, then the sound of Matty taking off his shoes and coat and dropping his backpack in the living room before he appears in the entryway to the kitchen. He's been in the studio all afternoon, and he looks a little bit tired, but happy. Happy is good, George thinks. Matty has looked happy a lot lately.
"Hey, how'd things go?" George asks.
"Good," Matty says. "Unproductive, but good. Probably would have been more productive with you."
George laughs at that. It's a fifty/fifty shot whether they'll be more productive together or alone. "Tomorrow," he promises. Then, gesturing towards the wine glass on the counter, "I poured you wine."
"Really? Thanks." Then, "What's for dinner?"
"You'll find out," is George's answer. "Just drink your wine."
Obediently, Matty sips his wine, then comes around the kitchen island and wraps his arms around George's waist where he's standing in front of the stove, then stands on his tiptoes to hook his chin over George's shoulder. "Missed you today," he murmurs.
"I know," George answers. "I missed you, too."
"Remind me why you couldn't come?" Matty asks, not moving.
"I was busy."
"Busy doing what?"  
"You're so impatient, you know that?"
Matty nods, his chin digging into George's shoulder. "You know it, too," he counters. "You married me."
"One of the best decisions I've ever made," George agrees.
Matty presses a kiss to George's jaw, then says, "Love you."
"I love you, too," George echoes. "You know what today is?"
Matty nods again. "'s our anniversary. Happy anniversary, baby."
George smiles and turns to press a kiss to Matty's temple. "Thought you might have forgotten."
"Forgotten?" Matty asks, indignant. "About our anniversary?"
"Well, we’ve been on the road for the past few. Thought you mighta lost track."
"I do know the days of the week, ya'know."
"Happy anniversary, Matthew," is what George chooses to say. He's not going to argue with Matty, not about something so insignificant, not today.
"Love you," Matty murmurs. "Love lovin' you." He presses another kiss to George's jaw, then adds, "Thanks for marryin' me."
"Best decision of my life," George responds. "Five, maybe ten minutes and dinner 'll be ready."
"Can I help at all?" Matty asks, not moving.
George shakes his head. "Nope. Just gimme a few minutes."
"Alright," Matty agrees. He presses one more kiss to George's jaw, then lets go of George and goes to lean against the counter and sip his wine. "I made us a reservation, ya'know," he says. "You didn't have to slave away over the stove for me."
"I wanted to," is George's answer. "I like takin' care of you."
"Still," Matty insists.
"I know," George says.
Matty doesn't say anything else, just refills his wine glass and waits for George to be done cooking. When he is, he herds Matty towards the dining table and sets a plate in front of him. He murmurs a quiet word of thanks, then, after a couple bites, looks up at George and says, "This is the greatest thing I've ever eaten."
"That's high praise," George teases. "You sure?"
Matty nods, emphatic. "Absolutely."
George smiles. "Every day I think I can't love you more than I already do and every day you prove me wrong."
"Well, I do love being right," Matty agrees. Then, "I bought you something."
"Did you now?"
Matty nods and from seemingly nowhere, he pulls a jewelry box and slides it across the table to George who opens the box to reveal a stack of three gold bracelets, the first solid and textured, the second an intricate chain, and the third solid and polished.
When George doesn't say anything right away, Matty starts, "I, erm, I thought-"
"I love them," George interrupts. "Thank you, Matty."
Matty smiles, kind of bashful, and goes back to his dinner. He's never been particularly good at being thanked.  
George just shakes his head, fond, but rather than trying to convince Matty of anything, he pulls his own little jewelry box from his pocket passes it across the table, saying, "As it happens, I got you something, too."
Matty pauses. "What is it?"
"Open it," George urges.
Matty doesn't open it, but he picks it up and looks it over, like he's looking for some kind of secret.
"It's not gonna bite you, sweetheart," George teases.
"Piss off," Matty mumbles, but he's smiling as he says it.
"Go on and open it," George repeats.
So Matty does. Carefully, he opens the little box to revel the slim silver band with inlaid pale sapphires that George had picked up that morning. It matches Matty's engagement ring, also a silver band with inlaid stones. He doesn't say anything, just stares at the ring for a moment, half confused.
"The jeweler said sapphires are traditional for fifth anniversaries and I know you're not big on tradition, but-
Matty looks up at George with tears in his eyes and sniffles. "George," he starts. "I-" and then he's setting the box down and wiping at his tears with his napkin.
George gets up and goes around the table to gently take Matty's napkin and close the ring box. He wipes away a tear, then, "This was supposed to make you happy, love, don't cry."
"I'm not upset," Matty tries. "Just, I love you. A lot. And you love me enough to give me things like this and-" he cuts himself off to wipe away another tear and sniff.
"I do love you a lot," George agrees. "And you're mine and I want the whole world to know it."
"I don't know what to do with that sometimes," Matty admits, tearful.
"I know, but I do," George murmurs. He picks up the little velvet box from the table and pulls out the ring, then holds his hand out to take Matty's. "Gimme your hand."
Obediently, Matty holds out his left hand and George slides the ring onto his finger, resting it next to his wedding band.
"I love you," George murmurs. "I'd put a ring on your finger every year if I could."
Matty laughs and holds out his hand to examine in the low light of the dining room. "I love you. Thank you." He sniffs again, then adds, "Dunno where I'd be without you."
"You'd be ok," George says, "but I'm glad I'm here with you."
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catb-fics · 10 months ago
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Red Part 1
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Can he do what I do for you?
Enemies to lovers // Your boyfriend’s best friend is just too hard to resist…
Words: 3.3k
Warnings: None for this part, just Van being gorgeous and irresistible as usual ❤️
Story Masterlist Main Masterlist
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There were few people that got under your skin the way that Van McCann did.
You watched him now from across the kitchen, leaning in to some poor, unsuspecting girl, that flirtatious smile of his playing on his lips. He was laying it on thick, probably spinning her some tall tale about life on the road, the exciting lifestyle of a touring musician. She hung on his every word, giggling every now and again, her hand raised up to twist a lock of her long brown hair coyly around a finger, her eyes wide and adoring as she looked up at him.
He barely had to try, you could see he'd already ensnared her. It was all so predictable. By the end of the party they'd slope away up to his room, spend a night of infuriatingly loud passion together, and then he'd send her on her way in the morning, warm hugs and lingering kisses in the kitchen, followed by promises to call which cooled before she'd even stepped over the threshold of the door.
"Here you are. I've been looking for you everywhere. What are ya... oh..."
Larry's voice sounds in your ear and you snap your head up quickly, feeling a slight flush tinge your cheeks. You're not sure why, but for some reason you feel caught out, like you've been viewing something illicit, not your boyfriend's best mate sleazing all over his latest 'victim'.
"Just came to get another drink," you say quickly, turning away to reach for the bottle of vodka on the counter and twisting the cap. "Want one?"
You hear Larry chuckle beside you as he reaches for two plastic cups off the stack. "Oh... so you're not keeping an eye on Van then? And yeah, I'll have one. Just a single though. I know what your measures are like!"
You pour a sizeable amount into each cup, feeling yourself stiffen at Larry's insinuation. "Why the hell would I be keeping an eye on Van? I don't give a shit what he gets up to."
Larry passes the lemonade to you before he leans back on the counter, arms crossed. "So you're not just looking for excuses to wind him up then?"
You busy yourself topping up the drinks, shaking your head, bizarrely feeling flustered. You realise after you finish that you've got nothing else to do so you compose yourself, straightening up and passing Larry his drink, taking a large sip before you reply.
"I don't have to look for excuses. He's at it again! This has got to be like the third girl in two weeks!"
You can see Van from your spot and you watch him reaching a hand out to brush a lock of the girl's hair behind her ear. She looks like she's about to melt into a puddle right there and then on the kitchen floor. You tut loudly, tearing your eyes away to look at Larry who's regarding you with amusement.
"So? He's single isn't he? He's not hurting anyone. I don't know why it pisses you off so much."
Larry takes another sip of his drink, placing it down on the counter beside him, reaching out both hands to rest on your hips. He's still grinning but you know it exasperates him, the way the two people that mean the most to him just can't seem to get along.
"It's just... I don't know..." You pause, searching for the right words. "He's got no respect for any of these girls. He doesn't treat them right."
Larry's smile fades a little and a small crease forms on his brow. He knows you're speaking the truth even though he's loathe to admit it. Van's been his best friend since they were at primary school together and they're as thick as thieves. He defends Van fiercely even when he doesn't deserve it.
"Why don't you just let him get on with it and come back to the party? Come on, we're supposed to be having fun."
He looks at you hopefully then, and your eyes flick to Van who's got his hands on the girl's waist now, drawing her in, their hips almost touching. A flash of annoyance sparks in you and then you see Van glance up, his eyes meeting yours from across the room.
You quickly look away, leaning towards Larry, pressing your lips up firmly against his. You wrap your arms around his waist, pressing him back against the counter, hear an appreciative hum come from him as he kisses you back with enthusiasm.
After a few moments you naturally break away, laughing at Larry's toothy grin as he speaks.
"What was that for?"
"Just because I love you," you reply. "Doesn't have to be a reason, does there?"
He's glowing with affection as his hands slide off your hips, finding your hands, his fingers curling around them.
"Love you too," he smiles. "C'mon..."
You make to leave the kitchen, drinks in one hand, your free hands entwined, Van forgotten... almost.
You glance up at him as you head for the doorway, surprised to catch his eye once again. You can't place the expression on his face, but he's watching you with a certain intensity. You break eye contact quickly, looking down as you leave the room.
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You groan as you open one eye, feeling the dull throbbing in your head. You'd had fun last night, but you'd certainly over-indulged. Wine, vodka, cider... something unidentifiable that Bondy had provided. Probably battery acid the way your mouth feels stripped of all moisture this morning you think groggily.
At least you'd been drunk enough that you'd passed straight out as soon as your head had hit the pillow and you'd not had to endure the enthusiastic sounds of Van and his latest hook-up consummating their likely short-lived fling in the next room.
You roll over in bed, mildly annoyed that Van happens to be the first thought that pops into your head on waking, seeing the sleeping form of your boyfriend lying next to you. He's snoring, face mashed into the pillow where you can clearly see he's been dribbling in his sleep. You shoot up a hand to your mouth to stifle a giggle, tempted to nudge him awake, but then you hear a clattering noise emanating from the kitchen downstairs and it distracts you.
You know what you should do. Turn over and close your eyes and try to get some more sleep. Maybe wake up Larry with a kiss for a lazy, early morning love-making session. But that's not what you do.
Instead you slide quietly out of bed, reaching for your robe which you then discard in favour of wandering downstairs in your tiny silk slip which doesn't leave much to the imagination.
It's unseasonably warm for mid-October though... and you’re hot... why would you cover yourself up?
You try to reason with yourself as you traverse the stairs, chastising yourself for even bringing up improper thoughts about how Van's eyes might rake over your body as you're standing at the kitchen counter. The little thrill that courses through your body at the thought swiftly disintegrates as you push through the kitchen door to find not Van but the brunette from last night stooped down on the kitchen floor cleaning up a shattered drinking glass off the linoleum.
"Oh shit! Errr... hi?" She says uncertainly, rising swiftly to her feet. "Do you live here too? Your Larry's girlfriend aren't you? I'm so sorry about this, I just really needed a drink of water. I've made such a mess. I was just trying to sneak out... you know... without waking anyone..."
She trails off, looking at you sheepishly and you glance down, seeing a small gash on one finger of the outstretched hand that she's holding the broken glass in. This is novel... a girl actually sneaking away from Van's bed rather than trying to get back into it.
Any animosity you felt towards her for hooking up with Van disintegrates as you dart forward to take the jagged shards off her.
"You've cut yourself, here let me have it. And don't worry! I don't live here but the lads won't mind, honestly. Van's always breaking stuff."
You throw away the glass in the nearby dustbin and look over at her as she sucks at her injured finger, her eyes darting towards the back door like she means to make a run for it. "Thanks... I... errr... I suppose I'd better go..."
You're tempted to hold the door open for her and wave her through, but intrigue gets the better of you and you step towards her. "Why are you in such a rush anyway? Aren't you... like... seeing Van or something? I saw you together in the kitchen last night at the party. You looked pretty close."
Her cheeks instantly flush at the mention of his name, a shy smile emerging. She lowers her voice conspiratorially even though it's only the two of you in the kitchen. "Yeah... I mean we're not together properly... but I do like him. We were both drunk last night though..."
She tails off, her smile fading as she bites her lip. Her eyes widen, hopeful-looking as she steps even closer. Gosh she really is pretty. Soulful brown eyes with long lashes, glossy brown thick mane of hair. Just Van's type. You find yourself reaching up a hand to thread through your unruly waves, wondering how someone can look this fresh and attractive first thing in the morning after a drunken night of passion.
"The thing is... Y/N... that's your name isn't it?"
You nod, feeling a tightening in your gut as you anticipate what she might say next.
"I like Van... I mean I really like him. I've fancied him for ages but I never thought I stood a chance. He always has so many girls around him. I couldn't believe my luck last night when he started flirting with me."
You hold in the sarcastic huff that's threatening to burst forth, looking earnestly at the poor, deluded girl, pitying her that she might actually think she's somehow special to Van. She carries on, oblivious.
"I was determined not to spend the night with him, I really was... but he's just so goddamn... tempting..."
Her shy smile's gone now, her whole face lit up as she leans in to you like she's about to divulge some delicious gossip to a close friend. "You know how he used to tell interviewers that he's bad in bed?"
You go to speak but the words catch in your throat so you just nod, the knot in your gut positively churning now.
What the fuck's wrong with you?
You just nod, trying to keep a neutral expression as she raises her eyes to the ceiling like she's reliving the experience. "Oh my god Y/N, it's so not true!"
You stand stock still, not sure how to react, wondering why your whole body feels tense and there's a bitter taste at the back of your throat.
If you didn't know any better you'd say you were jealous. But that's just ridiculous. You have a boyfriend. Van's best friend.
And besides... you hate Van. In fact you really fucking hate him.
"You probably ought to be careful with Van... you've probably heard about his reputation. It's all true you know."
The words trip off your tongue without you even thinking about them, and once you've started you can't stop. It all comes out, like the release of an exhale.
"He'd have a different girl up there every night if he could, and never the same one twice. Honestly if you know what's good for you you'd steer well clear. I know you probably don't want to hear this, but I've seen way too many girls with broken hearts thinking they actually meant something to him."
You watch her pretty face twist, first with shock, then realisation, finally settling on an angry kind of hurt. One which tells you that any hope she had of turning this fling into something more meaningful has just disintegrated faster than your spiralling morals.
"Fuck..." she mutters under her breath, stepping back and looking again at the back door.
This time you don't stop her. You just watch her sigh and shake her head slightly as she walks towards it, pausing when she curls her fingers around the handle so she can turn to look at you.
"I really did think that maybe he wasn't as bad as everyone said. I know I was all set for sneaking off just now but I thought that maybe I'd give him a call later on today... He gave me his number as well."
She delves into the back pocket of her skinny jeans and produces a folded piece of paper which she frowns at before flicking it down on to the kitchen worktop.
"My last boyfriend was a cheat... I just can't risk it. Thanks Y/N. Us girls have got to stick together, hey?"
You just smile sweetly, hoping it doesn't look as forced as it feels, watching her opening the door and stepping through. You release the breath that you've been holding, stepping over to the counter and picking up the folded paper and opening it, seeing Van's familiar scrawl. His phone number's there, above his name and a message to "Call me X".
You were just doing her a favour. You didn't actually lie. Every word you told her was the truth, so why do you feel like such a bitch?
"Morning Y/N..."
The unmistakeable voice makes you jump and you whirl around quickly, dropping the paper which flutters down to the floor to rest at your feet.
Van.
He's leaning against the door frame, shirtless, wearing just a pair of trackie bottoms which are hanging dangerously low on his hips. His bare chest is lean with a scattering of dark chest hair, a tantalising trail which leads down to disappear under the waistband. You're pretty sure he's not wearing anything underneath...
You force your gaze upwards only to find his moving downwards over your body, a sly smile playing on his lips. He's not even subtle about it and you suddenly feel very undressed in your thin silk slip, quickly crossing your arms over your chest.
"Where did you spring from?" You say, trying to ignore the burn that's rising in your cheeks.
He cocks his head back, his smirk widening. "Oh, I've just been in the hallway... listening in. I must say, that was even more cutting than my NME review. Anyone would think you're deliberately trying to sabotage me."
Your eyes dart down to the piece of paper on the kitchen floor and your cheeks warm even more. "I was only trying to warn the poor girl. She deserves to know what you're like. Besides, why the fuck would I be trying to sabotage you?"
"I don't know Y/N... you tell me."
His comment catches you off-guard and you flounder, trying to think of a smart come-back but failing. Van's watching you, his enjoyment at watching you squirm evident. You quickly turn around, flicking on the kettle as a distraction. Even facing away from him you can feel his eyes burning into you, scorching your skin.
It's not always been like this. There was a time when you, him and Larry were friends, back when you first started dating and the band were just taking off. Van was different back then though. Fame and all the trappings that came with it were a distant notion and Van was hard-working, ambitious and ever-failingly polite... you would even go so far as to say the perfect gentleman. Larry said he'd never let it go to his head but he was wrong. As the boys' debut album burst into the indie music scene, their small but dedicated group of fans had grown exponentially. Fan blogs popped up all over on social media, followed by hordes of adoring female fans desperate to meet the charismatic frontman who lapped it all up, his ego growing in sync with the band's popularity.
He'd grown into everything that you hated in a man. He was vain, cocky and brash, and those weren't even his worst features. You'd watched on, appalled as he welcomed a procession of unsuspecting, lovestruck girls into his bed, trying your hardest to ignore the ever-growing fascination that you'd developed, desperately trying to turn it into something else. Something that would stop the lingering thoughts that seemed to be plaguing you of late. Wondering how his lips would feel dragging over your skin, his fingers digging into your hips as he pushed you up against the wall. Imagining the weight of his body on yours, sweat-soaked and needy, your hips clashing as you gave into your dark desires.
"You have no respect for women! You fucking disgust me!" You spit, instantly cringing inside at the harsh comment.
Van's colourful love-life shouldn't really be any of your business but you just can't help yourself. It's becoming an obsession, and a dangerous one at that.
You know full well that he won't be affronted by your insult though. He usually gives back as good as he gets. It's fast becoming some sort of game, both of you hurling out slurs at one other, the tension increasing along with the animosity.
You're just worried about what's going to happen when it reaches breaking point...
"Why d'ya have to be such a bitch? What's up? You jealous or something?"
His voice is taunting and you feel annoyance prickle your skin. You feel like turning around and confronting him, maybe delivering a slap across his smirking face, but you don't. You take a few surreptitious deep breaths, calming yourself as you open the cupboard door to take out a mug.
"Fuck you Van," you say in a quiet, measured tone.
You don't hear him move across the kitchen, his bare feet silent on the linoleum. You don't even realise that he's standing right behind you until you feel the heat of his body against your back. You're on your tiptoes, stretching up to reach your favourite mug on the top shelf. He's so close you can feel the heat of his breath on your neck.
"Need a hand with that?" He asks, his voice soft in your ear. His hair tickles the side of your neck, sending an involuntary shiver through you that you know Van feels by the quiet chuckle that follows.
"I can manage," you reply haughtily, but he's not listening. He reaches up, easily procuring the mug, pushing you forward on to the kitchen counter as he does so.
You stay silent, worried how your voice might sound if you try to speak, your body tensed as you feel it flood with heat. He's so closely pressed up against you that you can feel all of him and your thoughts race wildly as you imagine him pulling up your slip, his hands everywhere at once.
"You might act like you hate me Y/N but I know better than that. I think we both do..."
Your heart's thudding in your chest, your mind in a spin. It would be so easy just to give in...
Then your thoughts go to Larry sleeping peacefully upstairs, blissfully unaware of what's occurring. Your loving, doting boyfriend who would never do anything to hurt you.
You panic, pushing your hips back purposefully into Van's and you feel him resist for a moment, the resulting friction sending a shock of heat between your legs.
"You don't know shit Van!" You cry, pushing even harder. "Now get out my way!"
He relents then, stepping back to allow you to spin around and you do, your tea-making efforts abandoned. You push past Van, roughly shouldering him out of the way, making for the kitchen door.
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aerialsquid · 2 months ago
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FFXIV Write 2024 Day 25: Perpetuity
"Where's Gaheel Ja?"
"Off seeing his Bronze Lake girl."
"Oh, right." Martyn had tried to forget that two seven foot tall reptilian beas–triba–society members from across the ocean were still better at landing a date than he was. Latool Ja had something going on with a thaumaturge in the local Mamool Ja mercenary troupe, while Gaheel Ja had finagled a long distance relationship with a Roegedayn woman working at the hot springs in La Noscea. (What they did together was anyone's guess.) It meant Martyn got the apartment to himself more often, but did make him feel a bit inadequate.
"Well, means one fewer person to cook for, I suppose," Martyn said, setting the orchid down carefully.
"Yes, I suppose." Latool Ja's bulging eyes tracked Martyn across the room as he carried the bags of groceries to the icebox. Martyn had spent time enough with the pair to know that when both eyes of a Boonewa were following you simultaneously, the owner had either a deep interest in you or a deep concern about what you were doing.
"Something wrong?"
"You've not been fighting in the Celestium as often the last few months."
"Well, it's the off season, they don't hold as many shows during the rainy months. And I can't say I mind the break, do you?"
"But fewer fights should mean less coin, not more."
Martyn froze halfway through unpacking a sack of apricots. "Not sure what you mean?" he said, a bit louder, not turning around. "Nothing's changed about my income."
Latool Ja sighed. "I normally would not complain about good fortune that benefits me, but I would like to know who granted you such fortune."
"That'd be Nald, if we're talking money–"
"Martyn, you know what I mean."
"Why does it matter to you, you're benefiting?"
"I am not saying I'll judge," Latool Ja insisted. He absolutely would, if he knew. Anyone would. "But if it is crime, you must tell us. It will be our necks on the line too if you are caught.."
"It's not crime! Why are you jumping to crime? I've never done a crime in my life." Martyn folded his arms defensively.
"Last year, we caught you cutting deals with a somnus merchant."
"That was for medicine to send over to Lapis Canyon to stop a damn epidemic. It's not my fault dreamflower's a controlled substance."
"It was still crime, and you still did it behind our backs." Latool Ja set one claw to his hip, both eyes staring pointedly at Martyn.
Martyn avoided his gaze, continuing to stack groceries in the cupboard. "Well, this isn't crime," he said huffily. "For your information, I have uh, a new pupil. For the blue mage school. He pays extra."
Latool Ja's right eye rolled up and around, doubtful.
"He's a wealthy recluse. With, uh, social anxiety. And he's disfigured, never leaves the house. Not that it's really any of your business." Things which were mostly true about his client, though Martyn had absolutely no intention of telling Latool Ja exactly what they did together during their sessions. "But he has me come over to teach him every week, and he pays extra for the commute, and that's where the money's coming from, so shut up already."
The right eye rotated again and returned to staring at Martyn, who stuffed one of the apricots into his mouth in an attempt to look casual and calm. Finally Latool Ja sighed, rolling his left eye around and settling back into a nearby chair.
"Just don't do anything foolish, all right?" he muttered, slipping into his native tongue. "We don't have many friends in this country. I'd hate to lose one of the few we have."
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kaylinalexanderbooks · 4 months ago
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Who is the most explosive when it comes to arguing? Who is the one who has to diffuse them?
And
What is a running joke within the group?
Hey! Sorry for the wait, I've been busy! (From this OC friend ask game)
I'm gonna focus on Part One cause that's easier. Since this is a friend group, unfortunately I have to leave Carmen and Jedi out of this. So just the kids. I'll do the full group so we get the entire team dynamic.
14. Who is the most explosive when it comes to arguing? Who is the one who has to diffuse them?
The most argumentative is Liam, but he doesn't explode. His thing is keeping things cool; he just approaches everything as an argument. But he sees it more as debating strongly held opinions that he has, or he plays devil's advocate in order for someone to play off him. He does this for fun sometimes, though everyone's used to it. He's learned to be open about when he doesn't mean something.
So not Liam. He's not explosive.
When Kelsey gets to a breaking point, she gets the most spectacular explosion. She's not in her best state right now, so unfortunately it's not the hardest thing to do, but it's usually if she feels untrusted or disrespected or that her life is falling apart.
Ash thinks she has more control than she does. But the girl is downright dangerous when she loses her temper. It may take a while, but so many things have to go wrong for her to absolutely lose it. If it stacks up, and she's overwhelmed or feeling trapped, she'll lose it, especially if you're being loud and pushy.
If you get Gwen stressed enough she's unrecognizably rude. She's frustrated and she'll snap at you. She doesn't want to do it, but if the girl's been through enough, good luck.
Lexi and Akash are the kind of people that don't seem like they have a temper unless you disrespect them one too many times. Or someone they deeply care about was hurt.
Rose and Niri are the two who don't like arguments, and if you dismiss them on an off day, they'll lose it.
Anyone who's good at seeing other points of view would be helpful to defuse an argument. As mentioned above, Liam is perfect. He spends so much time debating that he's the perfect candidate for trying to organize a peaceful resolution and figuring out the objective answer.
However, Liam can be insensitive. If you want a logical answer, he's the perfect mediator. But people like Ewan and Carla are good people to go to for the emotional mediating. Ewan will be more confident about his opinion, and Carla will be more empathetic than even Ewan. Having all three may be a good balance.
However, plenty of others can help mediate. Robbie and Gwen if they're not too emotionally compromised are good examples. Gwen is fantastic at solving arguments, but I also listed her as an explosive one - though I should reiterate that it takes a lot to get her to that point. Wade, as the natural leader, is also good at finding a solution, though he may look too big-picture.
5. What's a running joke between the group?
They have a few.
- when will Ewan and Jazlyn date already
- 12 is a lucky number
- Recruit #7 (who could be Parker, Niri, or Tyler I have changed the order many times) will eat Recruit #9 which is Robbie (because seven "eight" nine)
- cereal is the skeleton of milk
- Robbie is terrible at color perception
- Ash has the worst taste in food
- Lexi is a stalker (because she knows everyone's birthdays and schedules)
- Akash has no sense of humor (he made one bad joke and Parker won't let it go)
- a bunch of them call Gabriel "Gills" because his initials are GLZ
- calling Carmen Dr. Ass-ghar
- making Star Wars jokes with Jedi's name
- calling Noelle, well, Noelle! (Her name is Carissa but Ash thought it was Clarissa. When Carissa corrected Ash by informing her there was "no L" in her name, Ash misunderstood and thought she said her name was Noelle)
- this is just the top of my head there's probably more these are dumb kids
This was so much fun! Thanks for the ask!!
TSP intro
TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites
@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet
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jamesunderwater · 1 year ago
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I want to hear everything about James calling Lily "Firefly" in Tall Dark and Glasses!
Haha, I love this question. So what's important to know here is...I wrote this story in basically one sitting, from roughly 11pm to 4am. Because I procrastinated, lmao. So not a ton of forethought went into the granular details, to be honest. The prompt (which I forgot to include) was something like "I'm having a bad day but watching you fail to stack cards in this coffee shop is making me smile." Which, when I first read it, I was like.......wtf am I gonna do with that. Like, I got the story all the way up to him interrupting her stacking those cards and I still had no idea why she was even doing it xD
But, the entire story centered around the one thing I did have in mind from the start, which was Lily calling him "Tall Dark and Glasses." So when he asked for her name and I got the sense that he was surprised by it, I realized it was because he had to have given her some nickname, too (because I am obsessed with symmetry/patterns in my stories). But I didn't want to go with the usual "Red" or "Ginger" -- it's James, he has to be clever. So I started playing around with nicknames related to those words. I considered gingersnap, but I think I'd heard that used in a fic ages ago, and I wanted to be original. I thought about different things I could do with red, but that eventually got me to thinking about fire, and that's when the word came to me. And when he said it, I still had no idea why he called her that. Not until he started explaining it, and then I just thought to myself, "damn, dude, that actually makes sense. nice job, jp." 😆so yeah, that's all the background technicalities of how "Firefly" came to be.
Now, to just let that James in my head run free for a minute so he can tell us both more about this nickname:
The first thing I noticed about her was her red hair, of course. Well, and the fact that she was always nearly bumping into people, which probably would not have been as endearing if she weren't also jaw-droppingly gorgeous. So I dunno, she just had all this buzzing energy about her, and half the time all I caught of her was a little blaze of red flashing by before she was gone again. I'm not normally one for random nicknames, that's Sirius' thing, but after a few weeks of seeing her I was just so captivated. I mean, here is this woman who's probably the most beautiful person I've ever seen, and you can just tell she has no idea. But I didn't...like that she had no idea, it wasn't humble, it was -- contained. Like she was too busy being...whatever it was she was so wrapped up in, to even really notice herself. Which just made me notice her more. And eventually I started telling Sirius about her, whatever the new thing was I'd noticed that day, but just calling her "the girl from the coffee shop" didn't feel right, so I tried, "the redhead" but that also did her such a disservice, so finally Sirius gets fed up with me and tells me I should just ask her out already, but I told him, "When am I supposed to do that? I can never pin her down! She's always...all over the place, here and then gone, rushing about, she's like a little buzzing bee..." and that's when I saw it: her standing at the door, hair burning bright, and then disappearing in a blink. "No. Like a firefly," I told him. He was as confused as she was by the comparison, but he didn't see her like I did. As soon as I said the word, I knew it was right. Now that I've gotten to know her, though, I'd say even the magic of a firefly doesn't do her justice. She's a firefly, and she's a small, life-saving fire in the middle of a snow storm, and a bonfire so bright it eats up the stars, and the swaying flame of a candle in a dark room, small and unassuming and hypnotic and dangerous. I haven't told her any of those things, because she'd probably deny half of them and smack me for the rest. Plus, she gave me the fucking nickname Tall Dark and Glasses, and until she comes up with something better than that, no way am I admitting she's got me thinking of poetic fire metaphors.
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domovi · 1 year ago
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Fic: My duty
Short description: Colleague's words willy-nilly bring Mercy Dawn back to the past — a sad event in 2020, about which even Dawn prefers to remain silent.
Warnings: death, mentions of dead bodies, blood loss, shooting, injections, limbs and their absence.
Author's note: I'll try to be brief. I've been writing for a long time, but this fanfic can officially be called my first piece. I would like to pay tribute to the @ask-the-becile-boys blog and its moderator, which became the source of my inspiration. Dear Muse, you are my muse. Don't judge me. My friend forced me into writing this pun.
Translator's note: Guess who :)
Just wanted to wish you to enjoy the reading and also remind you that all claims for the translation are provided to @alreorem. It's my first time doing Russian to English translation so don't judge me too harsh, please. Just DM me and politely point out my mistake if you find one. Thanks for understanding! <3
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Dawn, laying on the dining table, diligently tried to sleep, but something, or rather someone, interfered with this important, urgent matter.
Soroh: Dawny~ Ten more sheets~
Dawn: Nope.
Soroh: Hey! Don't even think about shoving everything on me!
Dawn: What do you mean by ʼeverything'?! There's a little left!
Soroh also looked tired. So much that he couldn't argue with his colleague and only pressured her with a clouded look. Next to them was a thick stack of documents that could scare any inexperienced worker, but Dawn and Soroh are old-school people, and this amount of work was a little less frightening.
The game of peepers was interrupted by Flint, who placed two mugs of water right in front of the noses of the sufferers. For an hour, he watched his barely alive colleagues, who seemed to have lost their last convolutions on half of the paperwork. Recently, they ended the argument about the correctness of filling the documents, and if earlier Soroh still took up the alteration of papers, now he quickly gave up, agreeing with Dawn and her 'It'll do."
Dawn: OOOH! Boiling water!
She cheered up and began to warm her hands. Coffee, tea, sugar weren't brought so often, their last joy was hot or cold water, though all sorts of impurities felt terribly wrong. They even tried to mix it with a tasteless parody of food, but they quickly regretted it. And sometimes Dawn managed to get vitamins. And even for such merits, Soroh still couldn't calm down.
Soroh: Work first.
Dawn: Am I even not allowed to drink?
Soroh: Exactly. No, I mean, are you serious? After boiling water, you'll stop thinking at all!
Dawn: Actually! As an assistant, you should do all of this. Look at me. In my youth, I was left alone with all the work.
Soroh: ... In the youth. And what period of life are you experiencing now?
Dawn: Old age Soroh, old age. So be kind, show respect for old age and finish everything yourself.
The woman lay down on the table and stretched like a sleepy cat with her arms and legs extended as far as possible. Soroh, on the other hand, didn't share Dawn's enthusiasm, shoving her leg with force.
Flint: Old age? And how many years have you been working here?
Dawn: Well... It's been four years already.
Flint: But that's only one year longer than Soroh..
Soroh: It depends on how to look at this situation. Dawn is the only one of my good acquaintances who has worked at Industries for more than three years. Though... There are also quite a few silent people, and I had no business with the authorities.
Flint: For real?
Dawn: ... Don't even look at me.
Flint was genuinely puzzled. He knew that Industries wouldn't let go of its wards, but then where did ordinary workers who had worked for more than four years go? The only outgoing person of the trio was Soroh, and Flint shifted his gaze to him.
Soroh: I've heard rumors about... a large-scale incident. Someone talks about an explosion that caused the release of green matter; someone talks about mass liquidation ... A lot of rumors can be heard, but I don't know what to believe...
Flint looked at Dawn again, hoping to see at least the slightest clue in her facial expressions, but she was already sitting, finishing her work and no longer going to take part in the conversation.
Dawn: ...It's not something you should know.
-
THREE YEARS AGO
_
Pylartes: Look. I need you to rewrite it on new forms and put it in piles. Oh, and write down two people with the best performance for me.
The day began quite ordinarily. It'd seem that only yesterday Dawn managed to deal with all the paperwork, as she was handed a mountain of new documents. And where do they get so much paper from, so that later they can rewrite it all! Mercy had a lot of resentment about her work, even with a lot of experience and a year of work, she had never received confidence in operations in Becile Industries.
Dawn: As you say...
The woman already knew that it was useless to argue with this position, at least with Pylartes. Not even an hour had passed before he hurriedly left the laboratory, not bothering to report whether he would return today or not. But Dawn wasn't upset by her loneliness, she only made herself comfortable, throwing her leg over a nearby chair.
This could have continued all day long, if not for a sudden interruption in the system.
After blinking a couple of times, the lamps went out, and the buzz of the working devices subsided. The last thing that stopped working in this room was Dawn, who was still finishing the sentence from memory. The main problem here is that in the dark the words climb on the lines, or even worse, on other words.
Only after the dot was put, the girl looked out into the corridor, which was also immersed in darkness, only a couple of anxious voices came from the direction of the Archive. The electricity was cut off in the entire building, which was actually strange and could only speak of an unforeseen situation. Pylartes would definitely warn about this, even though he was quite forgetful.
While Dawn speculated, the workers quickly fell silent as they returned to the workplace. Mercy, too, could have returned to her office and shy away from work, but she had two strong but poorly sealed refrigerators that couldn't withstand a long lack of power.
At her usual pace, Dawn cleaned up as much as possible, closed the laboratory and headed to the mechanics she knew. They didn't talk much; a couple of times she brought them a hematocrit centrifuge for repair, and a couple of times they came to her for medical help. Quiet guys, however, they weren't the only quiet ones. She hoped that they have at least some information or ideas on how to keep the cold in the cells.
Her vision took a long time to get used to the dark, only her hearing helped. As she was approaching the turns, the clatter of steps in front became duller, and on the sides, on the contrary, freer. Dawn never considered darkness to be something terrible, only her own sounds were alarming, which rapidly spread through an absolutely empty space.
Entering the workshop, with eyes already accustomed, Mercy looked around the room.
“Absolutely empty”, played in her head again, she was already nervous.
The place was quite large, and the guys could just relax somewhere far away or even in a warehouse. Dawn took in more air in her chest to call for one of the workers, but when she realized how loud she'd be in this place, she quickly changed her mind and preferred a quiet inspection.
She didn't have to be here often, but each time everything was different. Details that differed from each other in shapes and sizes; sheets of various kinds of metal, which sometimes didn't fit in the workplace; even the tools were constantly changing their position. It seemed that all this was completely out of order, or maybe all these things were just abandoned in a hurry.
Abandoned in a a hurry...
She felt uncomfortable. And why the heck would she think that? Although, it was really too quiet for anyone to be here.
The door from the warehouse was wide open and after listening for a couple of minutes, Dawn concluded that there was no one after all. It was at least not safe to enter a place full of heavy, unknown objects, and Mercy wasn't a fan of looking for adventures on her adult head. It remained to assume that the guys left to solve problems in the system and soon everything would work. She can go back.
The noise began to reverberate down the corridor. At first, Dawn was even happy that someone was coming in her direction, but the longer she waited, the more anxious she became. One step grew into five, and five into twenty, and twenty into a hundred. The whole space was filled with the sounds of the march, which only became louder.
Dawn stepped back at one of the tables and leaned against the wall. Even if the heart began to throw out portions of adrenaline, but her mind was clear and ready for rational action. Mercy knew what fear can lead to and was especially well aware that in stressful situations, the brain tries to intimidate you even more. There may be a less creepy explanation for all this than the imagination betrays.
Or so she thought, until she heard a powder pop. Her body stiffened, followed by the thoughts that had just shouted: “Run! Hide!”, as if they themselves didn't expect a shot that marked the beginning of a terrible show.
The march played with a distraught orchestra, where every instrument was for itself, and the death was the conductor. The hail of lead was accompanied by flashes and the more often they sparkled, the more lives were taken.
Quickly realizing that disaster was rushing in her direction, Dawn fell on her knees and moved to the very depths of the table. One hand helped her body to stay in tension, and the other closed her mouth, so that the trembling didn't take possession of her body.
What a pity there was nothing to close her ears. In addition to the shooting, aggressive exclamations fear-filled screams and the last wheezes of people were heard. Only one word sounded louder and clearest, in which confidence and despair lived. That word was “Move!”.
It was over as quickly as it had begun, but Dawn was hesitant to move.
It turned out to be not in vain. Slow, haughty footsteps scoffed, echoed, first down the corridor and then in the workshop. Her jaws chattered as Mercy diligently watched her breathing. Her lungs were filled to the brim with oxygen, and then very slowly deflated, almost suffocating. The only thing that differentiated her from the floor was the rumbling of her heart. The blood pulsated through the vessels, causing her body to be thrown whether into the heat or into the cold.
Her thoughts began to get confused from an overabundance of noise in her body, thinking only about how to silence everything. In the meantime, the steps were getting closer, clearer.
They stopped only when they were near the table, right above her head she was afraid to raise. What if they've already seen her and are just just playing with her now? Waiting for Dawn to raise her cowardly eyes?
Time dragged on, and thoughts only swarmed in an already noisy head. An unknown person went to the pantry and only then left the room. For a while, their footsteps reverberated through the corridor, and even when they were completely silent, Dawn continued to draw them in her mind.
It was no longer possible to sit under the table. While everything was quiet, it was worth returning as quickly as possible. With the utmost care, Mercy looked around the room and gradually got to her feet. A slight feeling of relief spread throughout her body, involuntarily increasing the trembling. No longer feeling her own weight, Dawn hurried to the exit, where only a small part of the incident was seen.
The emptiness was filled with dead noise. If someone else were in the place of the girl, then their fantasy would clearly play out and begin to reproduce scenes from creepy movies with zombies or other creatures. But the woman was too old for that.
Dawn is a doctor, but the last thing she wanted at the moment was to do her duty. The chance of saving only her own skin, among possibly living bodies, was so attractive, just not to become part of the fresh cemetery.
And then, muffled wheezing. Only it was able to stop Dawn. Her legs simply refused to go any further.
Someone behind her back was alive, but she didn't dare to turn around. Someone who so desperately needed her help was very close, but Mercy also wanted to survive. She, not only as a doctor, but also as a person, couldn't drop her oath and hurried to the workshop for a first-aid kit. What a stupid decision.
Her mind cleared up immediately, and it was followed by insanely clear actions, like a machine performing the same program. Unfortunately, Dawn knew all too well how ruthless the hands of watches can be.
It was easy to find the alive, but wounded victim among the corpses. She tried to be quiet, discreet; but in addition to wheezing, panic betrayed her. According to the old habit, Mercy quickly began to act, completely forgetting about someone else's fear.
No sooner had she approached the girl than she jerked back sharply, making a sound that would have sounded like a scream if it had not been for her broken voice.
After inspecting her from top to bottom, Dawn could already clearly see the spots of damage. Of course, most of the bullet wounds were on her prostheses, which replaced almost all of her limbs. The only part that was made of flesh and blood was the left hand. And it was what bothered Mercy the most.
Dawn: Calm down, I'm a doctor.
Her hands rose up on their own accord in a conciliatory gesture. Even though a fragile thread of trust was stretched between the girls, the fear didn't go away. Mercy helped the girl sit down, simultaneously asking all the important and necessary questions for the doctor, to which she only nod or shook her head. She didn't even try to speak.
The only visible injuries were two bullet wounds: one through in the humerus (biceps brachii muscle) and one blind wound, all signs that the bullet went straight into her shoulder joint.
First of all, she tried to stop the bleeding. If a tourniquet could be applied to the first wound, then the second had to be covered with a pressure bandage. The woman forcefully squeezed the fist of her prosthesis, the grinding of metal and heart-rending groans were heard.
Dawn: Hush, it's okay, you're doing fine.
The doctor spoke without hesitation in order to somehow calm the wounded girl. Everything was supposed to stop as soon as possible, as soon as the light returned, the incident would immediately be made public. Everything will end soon, she will live.
Her hands reached for the first aid kit. Doubtfully, but among the adrenaline, insulin and other drugs in the form of a bottle, it was painkillers and another pack of bandages that were pulled out.
Dawn: Bear it just a little more. Soon the pain will end.
By injecting the drug and starting to fix the shoulder, Mercy was finally able to afford unnecessary thoughts. The manner of thinking developed by time and continuous work did not allow to be distracted or think about something else during operations or medical manipulations.
The burning determination to help someone else quickly faded as Dawn looked around. The bodies simply disappeared into the darkness of the corridor, which seemed endless. In addition to the wheezing of the wounded girl, the space was filled with an all-consuming silence. It seemed that in the abyss Mercy could hear the beating of someone else's heart, but it wasn't true.
How long will she have to go to check on everyone? Will there be any point in doing it? Examining the surroundings, she noticed that severe and fatal wounds were striking. Even with non-working prosthetic legs and a wounded arm, the girl was really lucky.
“Are you... One of ours?”
Apparently, the drug began to act. The girl no longer gritted her teeth and seemed relatively calm.
Only the question squeezed out of the girl's chest stuck in Dawn's head. ʼOf oursʼ? The only thing Dawn was sure of was that she was an employee of the Becile Industries. If there are so-called ʼoursʼ and ʼnot oursʼ among the workers, then Mercy successfully passed by the sorting hat throughout the year.
The victim saw the doctor's confusion and simply brushed off her silent question.
“Go away... You mustn't get into it.”
The girl forcefully closed her dried eyes, took more oxygen into her chest and threw her head back. Pain and anxiety gave way to fatigue. Whatever her fate is, it was inevitable. Is that why the girl let go of Dawn so calmly? The only living person willing to help?
Still, Mercy didn't know what she was getting into, and the weight of the adhering dirt was already weighing on her body. Dawn had a lot of questions, a lot of variations in the development of events: maybe people with guns would come back and kill them, or maybe others would come and fight back? But everything revolved around one word ʼmaybeʼ.
The likelihood that no one will know about her presence is so big that the most sensible decision was to leave. To just run away, and as soon as possible.
Dawn rose to her feet in an instant and disappeared just as quickly into the darkness. Without hesitation, she slipped into the darkness and disappeared like a vision. And the wounded girl had nothing but to peer into the void, looking for the outlines of a long white robe. She still had hope. No one in their right mind would want to die, especially here, especially now, especially alone; but the poor fellow had already let go of his bird.
There was nothing to wait for and her eyes began to close. Her eyelids were heavy, either from fatigue or from drowsiness. She can take a little break, just a little.
“Hey! Now's not the best time to sleep!”
It was a woman's voice. Is Dawn back? She's really back! The tall silhouette appeared as soon as it disappeared, holding a box filled with tools.
Dawn: So listen here. Let's take off the dentures and I'll carry you. Whether I'm 'yours' or 'their' is my problem.
The girl looked at the doctor with a sad look, clearly regretting, sympathizing, but didn't contradict.
At the moment, Dawn was bothered by too many questions to which she clearly wouldn't be able to get a concise and clear answer. If everything was thoroughly simple, then their own wouldn't kill their own, as in a slaughterhouse.
The doctor began to detach the robotic legs and, sensibly assessing her physical abilities, removed the functioning arm. Prostheses can always be replaced, new ones can be attached. There's nothing wrong with losing one of them.
Without the metal, the victim was quite light, the only discomfort was in carrying her around. Dawn had to improvise and use her doctor's gown so she was able to fix the girl on her back.
Looking at the bodies more closely, Mercy noticed the metal, too. On their legs, arms, eyes, mouths, necks, you name it. Did they all really need these prostheses so much? Yes, they can be useful and comfortable, but to lose tactility, a healthy part of your body to just put them? Dawn didn't understand this. Jaw prostheses were at least impractical and deprived the mouth of the simplest functions. And somewhere the weight from the metal was completely distributed incorrectly, from which the spine suffered, and if only the arms were replaced, then the legs could also suffer. The doctor could reflect on this for a long time, reluctantly finding more minuses than pluses. Dawn didn't understand this. Jaw prostheses were impractical and deprived the mouth of the simplest functions. And somewhere the weight from the metal was completely distributed incorrectly, from which the spine suffered, and if the arms were replaced, then the legs would also suffer. The doctor could reflect on this for a long time, reluctantly finding more cons than pros.
Dawn: Why do you all have these prostheses?
The girl didn't react to the asked question, as if she didn't hear it at all. She didn't look around. At the very beginning, she buried her head in her shoulder and diligently covered her eyes, just not to become a witness to what had happened again.
In the meantime, the bodies were running out, a couple more steps and everything would be left somewhere behind. If she's lucky, then in the upcoming future, Dawn won't have to regret either her actions or decisions.
Dawn: Usually I ask for the name right away, so... Can I know it at least now?
Such a simple question turned out to be unexpected. The reluctantly wounded girl raised her head, but the corridor was already empty. If she doesn't look back, the terrible life episode will seem to be over.
“Alice... Just Al--...”
There was a sound. Dawn was ready to run, but then her brain stopped her. She quickly came to her senses. She stood and listened, waiting for the noise to repeat.
A sound, or rather a murmur, came somewhere behind, very close. Mercy didn't want to linger, didn't even want to look back, but it was worth checking to find out what the chances of saving a life were. And Alice apparently didn't mind.
It was a ginger man whose hair and face had long been filled with red. The bullet hit the head.
Dawn felt pain near her temple. He won't do it. Too much time has passed. As soon as she got closer, her legs slipped. Something wet and still warm squelched under her feet, sticking to her shoes with a stranglehold. The floor around it was completely flooded.
Without understanding why Dawn untied Alice from herself, placing her in the opposite of her, and set to work. He was still alive, mumbling something indistinct and wasting all his strength just to not lose consciousness. Doesn't he deserve at least a little attempt? And if she manages to stop the blood, then it'll be possible to drag and save two lives.
Staying clean was hard. Her hands smeared in blood every now and then and the funds in the first-aid kit weren't enough to the point of bitterness. She had to use everything that played under her hand. Her own robe was long enough to tear off part of the hem and use it to stop the bleeding.
“Today... ”
Now it was possible to catch jerky words from his slurred speech, but this wasn't a sign of improvement of his condition. The man still didn't respond to Dawn's voice and reacted poorly to external incentives. He was still pale and weak, and a gray-red liquid flowed from his nose.
“... must take them out...”
It was necessary to somehow drag the two victims away and the question wasn't about Dawn's physical abilities, but about the carrying capacity of the robe. She had to go even further back and pull off the clothes of the dead.
“We've been waiting so long...”
Alice was still on Dawn's back, and the man was firmly fixated in a sitting position in a pair of jackets and dragged along the floor. Fully blooded shoes had to be removed.
“Annabel.”
The last word that is firmly ingrained in the walls of this corridor. Everyone knew it except Dawn. Will it remain within these walls or will it disappear at the first breath of wind, as soon as the authorities find new workers? Alice didn't want to believe it, but it would take time before the documents arrived.
Alice: Cyborgs. Industries has done all of this to us...
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