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finniestoncrane · 11 months ago

Text

Date, Digger Style

KTJL!Boomer x Fem!Reader, word count: 6k hi i am sorry, this was supposed to be like. a lil silly thing about what a first date with george might be like. and it ended up being 6k words. i just want him so bad it makes me look stupid quite honestly and i am ok with that 💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: sleazy behaviour, groping, tongue kissing, just the tip and then not just the tip but agreeably so, lots of physical affection, reader has tits and a vagina, reader is referred to with feminine pet names, descriptions of a gross kitchen, also let's pretend that he's always a lil bit drunk so his drunk driving seems like the normal state of things. he's a villain. he's allowed to break laws lmao (and it's fiction, so i'm allowed to decide what alcohol does to him)

Sitting on the edge of your sofa, you took a quick look at your phone to check the time and to see if you had missed any messages. Nothing. Not even a quick courtesy text with "on my way" typed hastily, or auto filled. You'd been sitting there for twenty minutes already, with no sign of George. If this was what he considered a good start to your first formal 'date' then you two were perhaps too different after all to make this work. He was laid back, to a flaw. Horizontal. And you were more organised, at least more so than George Harkness.

Just as you began typing out a message, you heard the tell-tale screech of the tyres on his van, followed by the rumbling of the engine as he put the brakes on and came out of the creaking door. The sharp buzz at your door was enough for you to know your suspicions were right, and without answering it, you headed downstairs. At the door, you could see Digger, picking at his teeth and tucking the stray strands of hair back under the rim of his hat before he noticed you and struck a pose, goofy smile plastered onto his face.

He moved to grab you when you met him on the steps leading up to your building, but you dodged him, spitting his nickname at him.

"Digger."

"Aw, are you mad cos I'm late? You're not some bloody princess, I think you can wait five minutes!"

"Twenty minutes."

"Twenty, the- Twenty!?"

His eyes were wide as he looked to you, and you offered a solemn and unimpressed nod in response.

"Fuck... alright, that is a bit much. This'll be worth it though, I promise."

Raising an eyebrow, you silently questioned that. You'd known him for a while now, skirted around the conversation, flirted constantly, but turned him down at every offer of a date. And now, when you had finally agreed and given in to his constant pestering, he was going to show up late and not even dressed differently or in clean clothes? You weren't sure it would be worth it. But, if all else failed, you could always count on him to make you laugh, or at very least conjure up a smile. And despite wanting to still maintain an exterior of disappointment, you could feel the corners of your mouth lifting as he opened up the passenger door and gestured to it with his arm, bowing low.

"M'lady, your carriage awaits."

As you stepped up and into the front of the van, the smell was the first thing that hit you. Stale beer, sweat, and about five other scents just indistinct enough to elude your keen nose. Trying not to think about it, you turned to grab your seatbelt and noticed, out of the corner of your eye, that the back of the truck was filled with empty beer cans and bottles, piles of clothing, some dirty and some clean. And in the middle of it all, a mattress, some pillows, and a scattering of sheets.

"Do you live in here?"

"Don't worry about it, babe."

Before you could ask him any follow up questions, he pulled away from the kerb with a stuttering acceleration, and carelessly pulled into traffic. After a few minutes of teeth grinding, life-threatening driving at high speed, he pulled off the main roads and began taking back streets.

Granted, you didn't know where you were going yet, since Digger was insistent on keeping it as a surprise, you still assumed that after ten minutes of nothing but roads dotted with potholes and routes plagued by speedbumps that it was surely quicker to have stayed on the main route until you were closer. However, it became clear that there were intentions behind this path after all, when you turned to question George about the route and found him quickly glancing from the road to your chest, smiling wider every time a bump jostled your body, causing your breasts to jiggle. With a heavy sigh, you turned to look out of the window, concealing the smile that threatened to give away your façade. There was no way you could let him know how oddly flattering you found his constant gawking, that would be a nightmare.

When the van stopped at a red light, you spoke, still looking out of the window, to try and get Digger to tell you where you were going.

"I just would feel better knowing how long we've got left to drive is all."

He reached over to you, placing his hand on your thigh and pressing his fingers and thumb together, squeezing the ample flesh.

"Listen, don't worry about it, we're almost there."

His palm pressed down and skimmed further up your leg, and as you turned to catch his eye, hoping to at least shame him into not continuing his bold heavy petting, you were instead met with his lopsided, careless grin. With one hand on the steering wheel and one permanently on your thigh, he continued driving for another ten minutes, until you were well on the outskirts of the city. When the van finally stopped, you could still hear the tinny rumbling and sharp clinking of the empty bottles and cans bashing around in the back, feeling like it had shrilly inserted itself permanently into your head. But once you had stepped out of the van and the fresh air, plus the odd stench, hit you, you could hear yourself think clear enough to know that you were definitely beginning to regret this decision once more.

"Told ya we wouldn't be much longer! We're here!"

"Where is here?"

"About twenty minutes outside Gotham."

"Digger."

He slapped his hand on your back and pulled you into a side hug, dragging you along as he walked towards the door of the flat roof building with broken neon lights that stood in front of you.

"Ah, come on babe! Get a sense of humour, or you'll always look fuckin' miserable!"

You weren't sure if he could hear your sighing over the sound of the gravel as you made your way to the front door, and he definitely couldn't hear the louder second one you let out when you got inside. The one that was cut short when you realised you could taste the smell that lingered on the air.

Taking your hand, an oddly gentle move from Digger. The moment was gone quickly when he smacked your ass as he ushered you into the dingiest looking booth at the back of the bar.

"George, really? Here?"

"Yeah, babe! This place is great. Cheap beer, good food. I promise, you just gotta trust me, alright?"

Taking a quick look around the place told you otherwise. But there was just something about him you found hard to say no to. Which you imagined would land you in much bigger problems later on, but for now, potential food poisoning and a hangover of the worst order seemed like a fair risk for what would no doubt be a fun night regardless. It always was with George.

"Aw, I know that face! You're on board! Right, I'm gonna go to the bar and get us some drinks and food."

"I don't know what I want though, I haven't looked at the menu."

"Don't have to, I'm getting us the usual. You'll like it, tr-"

"Trust you, yes, I know."

With a wink, he slid out of the booth and you watched him make his way to the bar, leaning on it with his oh-so-cocky attitude as he ordered for you. And when he sat back down, he slid a pint in front of you and began chugging at his own. Looking over the tip of your glass as you sipped, you tried to get a glimpse at the kitchen. From what you could see, it looked like the kind of place that might give any decent health inspector an aneurysm. The chef's clothes were dirty, the walls were a stained yellow colour that seemed as though it was dripping down the walls, and every surface had a strange assortment of crumbs and stains on it. But still, you persevered.

And still, when the plates were slammed down on the table in front of you by the uninterested waitress, you were optimistic. Because you were determined to have a nice time. It was likely that which annoyed you the most of all, because the moment you bit into the greasy sandwich you didn't care in the slightest what kind of health hazard it was prepared in. You just wanted more.

"See, told you it was good."

Nodding in agreement, mouth too full to speak, you swallowed down the rest of the sandwich, although by the time you had finished it and your accompanying beer, Digger was already onto his third pint, and the sandwich was but a memory. Until he burped and you could smell it on his breath, something he found hilarious.

"Lighten up! You try, give it your best shot."

"I'm not having a burping contest with you, George. We're on a date."

"Yeah, but you're on a date with Digger. Way more fun, far less stuffy. Go on."

You mustered up the best you had to offer, cheese and beer and lettuce the most noted flavours in the air you expelled. Closing his eyes for a moment, Digger reached out across the table and took your hands.

"That was, without a doubt... the most pathetic fuckin' burp ever. We gotta get you another drink!"

Before you could say anything, he was already shuffling out of the booth and shakily making his way back to the bar. A bad decision being made and you couldn't really stop him. He could handle his alcohol, definitely, you'd seen him do it a number of times before. Digger could put away what might kill a lesser, for want of a better word, man. But it didn't make him any easier to be around. You'd already found yourself flushing hot, cheeks darkening, a heat building in your stomach with each lingering touch or flirtatious stare. So far this evening, you'd almost kissed him twice. It wasn't going to be any easier to prolong what you felt was the inevitable if he got far too drunk and became his usual, handsy self.

Of course, that's exactly what did happen. One more pint in and Digger was all over you in the booth. He'd leaned in at first to say something to you, speaking over the noise of the bar, close to your ear, his arm reaching up and around you and pulling you close and then keeping you there. As his fingers stroked at your shoulder, the other hand fell to your thigh, periodically squeezing it between his fingers and thumb. And every time you got distracted by how far up your thigh he was snaking his palm, fingers splayed out, pinkie grazing over your crotch, his other hand would pull your attention away as his fingertips skimmed over the top of your breasts.

It was difficult to try and hold him off. You were both tipsy, or at least you were tipsy, Digger seemed to be wasted. No good decision could come from that. But the way he touched you, the way he smelled as he leaned in, sweat, cheap body spray, acrid beer, it was intoxicating. If you'd been any less sober you might have leaned in then and there in the booth to kiss him, tasting the alcohol on his tongue, letting him put his hands all over you, anywhere, anywhere. But luckily, before you could make what you knew was a mistake, he sat back and laughed, one loud and sharp 'ha'.

"I fuckin' love this song, babe! C'mon!"

Before you could argue otherwise, you were being dragged out of the booth to join Digger on the tiny dance floor in front of the band. The song was difficult to dance to, at least you had assumed, given the heavy rock riffs that underlined the inaudible, high volume lyrics. But George wasn't deterred. It was almost endearing, how horrendously embarrassing he was, standing there with his air guitar, throwing goat horns at the band as he bounced on the spot. Cute, nearly. But mercifully cut short as the song ended.

"Aw, just as I was finding my groove."

You smiled at him, rubbing his shoulder in sympathy, biting your inner cheek as you felt how strong he was, impressed by his muscular arm as you let your hand slip down to graze over it.

"A real shame, George. Let's go back to- "

The band started up again, this time, a slower song, one that lent itself well to the kind of 'end of prom' vibes all young lovers were hoping for. And before you could finish your suggestion of heading back to the booth, Digger had pulled you close, his arms around your back, falling to your waist as he swayed back and forth. It could have been dancing, it could have been the uncoordinated shuffling of a man who had one too many beers, but either way, you leaned into it, allowing your head to rest against his chest while you placed your hands, linked together, at the nape of his neck.

It was almost too romantic, in its own, strange way. The dim lights, the other couples around you, the unique twang on the guitars, the stench of the greasy food, and the way George kept his hips, his crotch, pressed tight to you as you leaned against him. Not particularly from a storybook romance, but perfect all the same. You'd known this would happen. One date, and you were already falling for him. Not because of anything he'd done, but because deep down you knew you had been into him, since almost the moment you'd met. But you'd fought it, because men like George Harkness, you assumed, weren't the kind of nice boy you dated.

But here he was, holding you, swaying you, sighing softly as the music swelled. Granted the movements weren't exactly graceful, but they were surprisingly fluid, as though he might be good at dancing when he was sober. Yet another surprise for you to learn about, but obviously not right now. He was trying though, his hands at a respectable height, his head leaning on your shoulder. Every so often, he nuzzled into your cheek, placing a soft kiss to it when the notion took him. And when the song finished, you could hear his words clear, spoken gently into your ear.

"You wanna head out?"

You weren't sure if that was "out" as in "get some fresh air" or "out" as in "let's head home, yours or mine" but either option seemed good. The last remaining bit of sun and a soothing breeze might be enough to sober George up before you brought him back in for more dancing. And if it didn't, you were happy to take him to your place for a coffee, nothing more. Although, you were potentially considering letting him sleep on the sofa. You couldn't imagine how difficult it would be to nurse a hangover in the back of his van.

Outside, finally able to breathe without choking on the stench or the thickness of the air, you watched as Digger shielded his eyes from the sky. His stumbling stopped, and he began walking with his usual confidence, almost sobering up immediately in the light of the day.

"Christ! Still pretty bright out here..."

"Yeah, it's not that late. You tapping out early, George?"

"Nah, nah. Not at all! If I've got you for the night, then I'm havin' you for the night. C'mon, I know a place."

Admittedly, and strangely enough, you really hadn't had enough of him yet. It was one of the few things you agreed on, actually. This was supposed to be a date, you'd set aside the evening for it, so you were keen to make it last as long as possible. You couldn't let George know that, though. Keeping the upperhand seemed to be key with him, so you offered him a reluctant smile and rolled your eyes dramatically.

"Well, I suppose so."

Stepping up into the passenger seat of his van you caught him smiling back at you, knowingly. You weren't kidding him, he wasn't as stupid as he seemed at first pass, but he was kind enough to let you keep up the ruse. It didn't stop him getting a little dig in at you, however.

"Are you sure? If you're not keen I can take you home, babe. Wouldn't want you to be bored or something."

"And where are you planning on taking me that isn't boring, then?"

"Eh... just a little spot I know of. Quiet, secluded. Up that back road to the overlook. But again, if you're not into it..."

"No, no. It sounds... well, it doesn't sound boring, anyway."

Digger laughed, starting up the van which groaned horrendously before sputtering to life. Before he drove off, he turned to you and winked.

"Definitely won't be, it never is with me, babe."

Pulling out of the parking lot, he turned away from the city and onto the quieter roads which led out past the city lines and into the expansive countryside that secluded Gotham from the rest of the world. From the window, you watched the sun slowly setting, clouds turning purple and navy as they pushed in from the sides like curtains on a stage show. You had all the time in the world to gaze peacefully, as George was driving in complete silence, way below the speed limit, focusing intensely on the road. He'd seemed to sober up once you were out of the bar, but you didn't want to distract him while he was doing his best to keep you both alive.

The van bounced along a short dirt trail until it stopped in a small clearing, surrounded by trees on all sides and far above the dim, intrusive glow of the city, which buzzed against the now deep, navy sky. Shutting off the engine, George turned and shot you a smile, eyebrows raised playfully, before he leapt out. He walked quickly to the back of the van and you followed, waiting patiently as he opened the two back doors wide, finally giving you a better look at what had been rolling around there the whole time he had been driving.

There wasn't much you could think to say, being of the opinion that you should only speak if you had kind things to say. From where you were standing, you could definitely tell that you had been correct in your earlier assumptions. This was where he lived. His rolling apartment. Convenient, yes. But it was a long way away from being one of the trendy 'tiny homes' you'd seen. The walls were adorned with four posters in total, all of them the kind of cheap standards you would expect in the bargain bin of some ancient music store, miscellaneous women in very little clothing gazing out as seductively as they could from the airbrushed backdrops. On the floor, there was a stick and poke tattoo kit that looked like it might be the source of several new variants of hepatitis, and it was littered with empty beer bottles and cans, some of which may have been half-full at the point he decided to drive off given how sticky the surfaces looked. And to top it off, there was a worn out mattress. No sheets on it, no sheets around it save for one scruffy blanket. It was covered in stains that you couldn't quite place, which matched the single, dented and almost flat pillow that lay haphazardly to the side.

"You live like this?"

That was what you had wanted to say, but again, your polite nature stopped you.

"Handy to just get in the van and sleep, or get out of bed and go."

George smiled, looking oddly proud of himself.

"See, you get it. You won't believe the amount of people who have been put off by- uh... well..."

He looked to the ground, rubbing at the back of his neck with his hand.

"Not that there's been that many people I've invited into- A-and not that there haven't been any people that have been-"

"George."

You placed a hand on his shoulder and raised your eyebrows, offering him a sympathetic grin. He took the out, thankful that you'd put an end to his suffering, and reached in for the blanket, placing it flat over the top of the bed before offering his hand to you. Taking it, he helped you shift yourself into the back of the van, watching as you got comfortable on the mattress as best as you could, at which point he joined you.

Leaning back on his arms, he looked to the sky, sitting in silence for a few minutes. You had joined him, watching the stars start to sparkle as they became visible against the darkening backdrop. At some point, you realised that he was staring at you, and you wondered how long you'd had his gaze trained on the side of your head. Not on any other part of your body, you noted. He was looking at your face, gazing at your eyes. When you turned, you caught his stare immediately, smiling softly when he blinked and looked away with a cough meant to clear the air of the awkwardness he was bringing about.

Rooting around behind him, he eventually found two unopened beer cans, both of which were loose amongst the rest of his belongings. Keeping one for himself, he passed the other to you. He raised his, tipping his head with a 'cheers' and then cracked it open. You watched the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped, a small trickle of foam slipping past his lips and down his chin. The urge to lean in and lick it off was disturbing, most of all because you felt yourself moving towards him before you even realised it. Settling back down into the strange romance of the moment, you pulled the tab on your own can.

The immediate explosion, the build up of pressure and gasses from the can being jostled around as you drove up the bumpy, dirt track to the spot you now sat in, left you in shock. Your shirt was soaked, completely, and the cool air was already beginning to chill your body. You blinked in shock, watching as Boomer tried to conceal his giggles while he stood up.

"Take your shirt off."

Looking to him, you raised an eyebrow, a look that said "is this really how you're going to make that move?" in a way that he read almost straight away. He began unzipping his blue hoodie, turning from you and passing it behind him, generously, and uncharacteristically, offering you some privacy.

Taking it from him, you quickly made the swap, your body exposed to the cold night air only briefly before you zipped up the hoodie, still warm from Digger's body. You tucked your bra and shirt under the mattress, making a mental note to collect them before you were home, hoping they would be dry. Making sure the zip was up completely, not offering any suggestive cleavage for Digger to hook his ideas into, you settled yourself, noticing that you were smiling. You could smell him on the fabric that covered your body. Beer, sweat, lingering smoke, an acrid smell you couldn't quite place and a sweet one on top of that. As the fabric grazed over you, you could feel your nipples hardening. It wasn't the cold though, it was faint arousal at the way you felt so close to him.

"You done yet, you're only putting a hoodie on!"

"Shit, yeah, sorry."

"I can look?"

He raised his hands, pulling them from his pockets and holding them up to his side, questioningly.

"Mhm, yeah."

When he was facing you again, he let his lips turn into an appreciative expression.

"Looks good. Suits you!"

Thudding back down beside you, George immediately lifted his arm up, wrapping it around your body and pulling you close. You found yourself settling into the hug, a natural embrace, one that made your heart flutter slightly as you let your head rest entirely against him. And then it happened, the moment that secured your confusion about him and his intentions. He sighed wistfully. So deep and joyous, his fingers digging into your arm to let you know you were the reason for the warmth spreading through him.

"It's nice out here, you can actually see the stars. Couldn't tell you what any of them were though."

"Are you kidding me right now?"

He turned slightly to look at you.

"What?"

"What? What are you doing? You brought me up here to look at the stars?"

George narrowed his eyes, his brow furrowing in confusion and slight irritation.

"Yeah! I thought it would be romantic!"

"Exactly!"

"Exa-... what?"

"You're so confusing. This whole evening, you yourself, it's not how I thought it would be. I mean, it wouldn't be you without the occasional grope and cheeky wink, but you've been so... You're so... It's weird to see you being so..."

Digger's hand fell to your thigh, a light pressure aiming to calm you down.

"So what?"

You couldn't answer it, because you weren't even able to settle on a definitive answer yourself.

So confusing?

So disgusting?

So gentlemanly?

So romantic?

So hot?

All of that and more.

And when words had failed you, you decided that you'd have to express your feelings another way.

It was less of a romantic, graceful move and more that you sank into him, falling against his body, your lips luckily making contact with his as you both found your way in the kiss. Neither of you expected it, both of you surprised. The tenderness, the hunger behind it. You could taste everything about him, smell him even better than you had when you had put on his hoodie. You expected he was experiencing the same.

Digger fell back, his hands catching your waist as he pulled you with him, both of you laying now on the mattress in the back of his van. His hands pawed, grabbed, skimmed over you, oddly restrained in fact. That was until you shifted yourself up and onto him, straddling his hips and staring down at him, panting heavily as you both caught your breath and took stock of the situation you were now in. His hands on your waist made their way up to your shoulders, your neck, cupping your cheeks as he grinned at you. Watching your face, your expression, for any subtle changes as he let his hands trail back down your front, fingers catching on to the zip of his hoodie and pulling it down slowly, opening it to expose you to him before he cupped at your breasts as you bit your lip.

"Fuck me..."

Digger let out a low groan that followed his short, to the point statement. His fingers circled your nipples, tightening around them as he teased you. His hips bucked up, jostling you, letting you feel how hard he was. You could tell just from that motion that the rumours about how gifted he was had truth behind them.

Bending down to kiss him again, you let your tongue slip past his lips, his own meeting in your mouth. He tasted divine. Sweet, but acidic. Earthy almost, definitely addictive. Everything felt dream like, surreal. Mostly, you assumed, because you were doing something you'd never dream of, something you knew was ill-advised, a little bit silly, embarrassing in the right company. But it was hard to care.

You were quickly brought out of the dream like state however, as you felt Digger's hands between both of your crotches, unbuckling his belt and fiddling with the zipper on his jeans.

"Wait... on the first date? You think you've charmed me enough for that?"

With the smug, self-satisfied grin you had grown oddly fond of, George looked into your eyes as he spoke.

"I think you started this, so it's a pretty good indication of how much I've charmed you."

He winked as he let his fingers tug at the waistband of your own pants, pulling at them as you leaned in to another kiss. Your attempts to stop him, or at least to pretend that was your intention, were put to one side as your body reacted to the feeling of the cool air against your bare skin, his hands, rougher than you expected, holding your thighs, pulling your pants down further until he needed you to move.

"Well... have I charmed the pants off you at least?"

Smiling back at him, you nodded your head from side to side as though you were weighing up his efforts over the evening.

"I suppose you have charmed the pants off me, yes. But... I'm not sure how much further your winning personality has gotten you."

"There's plenty of time for me to catch up, then."

Clumsily, and with very little grace, you shifted and removed your pants, blushing as you noticed Digger watching you intensely, taking note of every movement, every second of you undresssing, as though you were offering him the performance of a lifetime. As you steadied yourself, he hooked his fingers into the band of your underwear and pulled you back to him, landing you flat on top o f his body, your hands on his chest.

Teasing at the band of your panties, he dipped two fingers underneath the fabric, skating over your mound and down to your lips, stroking them gently before spreading them apart. He rubbed one finger up and down, collecting your slick as he licked his lips, desperate to know how you tasted. Bringing his fingers to his lips, he ran them on his tongue, sucking them with his eyes rolling back.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck me."

He continued unzipping his pants and pulling them down, boxers included, to reveal his more than impressive cock. At least ten inches, easily, thick, perfect, topped with a tuft of almost flaming red hair. Trying to control yourself, you leaned back.

"What are you planning on doing with that, Harkness?"

He squirmed, pressing his eyes shut and biting his lip before he managed to strain himself enough to speak.

"I just want... I want you... touch it... feel you... something... come on, please!"

Shuffling forward, teasing him knowingly as you felt his head, his length, against your thighs, you mused out loud, humming as though you were actually considering it, as though you hadn't already made your mind up yet.

"I suppose... this was a pleasant enough date. I could give you something, throw you a bone."

He nodded furiously below you, muttering his words of agreement.

"But! Just the tip. I'm not sure how much more of that I could take. It should come with a warning."

George actually blushed, looking away from you for a moment, as though the comment had genuinely embarrassed him. It did seem odd to you in that moment that he wasn't constantly bragging about his prowess in that area. He struck you as exactly the kind of person who would mention the size of his cock at any opportunity. You wondered if had the effect on others that it had on you. It was daunting, a little bit nerve-wracking. How many of the few people who had made it this far had given up at the sight of it, you wondered.

Most, you assumed, as despite how desperate he seemed to fuck you, he agreed enthusiastically, happy to be offered any opportunity to get as close to you as possible. He was already pulling at your underwear, grasping at it, trying to pull it down before deciding to push it to the side as he lined up the head of his cock with your swollen lips.

Looking directly at you he maintained the intense eye contact as he slid himself between your lips, pushing at your tight entrance slowly, carefully, only allowing his head to enter you. It felt amazing. So good, better than you thought. It stretched, filled you up, and that was ten percent of what he had to give. He hissed, gritting his teeth in concentration, trying his hardest not to move his hips, to buck them, to push himself any further inside of you.

As you balanced yourself, trying to contend with the little of him that was inside of you, he brought his thumb to your clit, rubbing it, making you twitch, contracting against him, tightening the grip your cunt had on his head. As he groaned, you couldn't help yourself anymore. You wanted him, all of him. You were willing to risk it.

"God, George... just fuck me."

"Wh-what?"

"Fuck me! Just..."

Realising you might need to take matters into your own hands, you let yourself slide down his cock, each inch stretching you further, a shockwave of pain followed by dull throbs of ache and arousal coarsed through your body, the pit of your stomach feeling pressed, your insides stuffed with him. Llike you were being entirely consumed, enveloped, in George Harkness.

"Christ..."

It was all he could manage with the limited breath he had, his whole body stopping any other function to focus on not letting himself cum inside of you immediatel. The sudden warmth, the tight, wet embrace, the way you leaned back, breasts bouncing as helped yourself to him, riding his cock as he lay back and held your hips. His thumbs, stroking against your skin, where the top of your thighs met your lower stomach, feeling your own desperation as you worked him harder, faster, palms resting on his chest to balance yourself as you took everything he had.

Brows furrowed in concentration, pursuing your orgasm, you wailed as his fingers found their way back to your nipples, teasing them, grabbing at your breasts as you rolled your hips and felt his cock twitching agaisnt your walls. It hurt, but in a way that was delicious, a way that felt like it should be borderline illegal, like most things that provided such a wonderful, addictive experience were. But there you were, enjoying it. Loudly, explicitly. And very publicly. It didn't matter to you, and it really didn't seem to matter to George. You were quite happy to scream it from the rooftops then and there, how much you were enjoying it. Being fucked by Captain Boomerang, as ridiculous as his name always seemed to you. You'd be quite content to tell everyone that he was making you cum, that he was one stroke of his thumb against your erect nipples, one tap of his cock against the exact spot inside of you, from losing all composure.

"George... George..."

"Yeah... yeah, it's good... eh? I'm good."

"Fuck, you are. Yeah. Yes! Yes!"

One final, loud, resounding 'yes' echoed around you, filling the air, bursting through the trees. You imagined that anyone within a five mile radius might have heard Digger coming. His cock, falling from you against his body, still dripping with your slick, still spurting streams of his thick, white cum all over his abdomen, covering his thick pubic hair. His hands, still embedded in your skin, creating deep, red marks where the grip was far too tight, stinging so perfectly pleasantly.

Your own notes of pleasure hadn't exactly been all that much quieter than his own, but still drowned out by the amped up grunting and wailing of George. At least you could hold that saving grace. Allow yourself to cling to that modicum of your dignity.

Because you certainly weren't bothered about any other facets of it, as you slid down beside George on the dingy mattress, curling around his body, hand on his chest, smugly satisfied to know that you had contributed to the stains that would no doubt be a permanent feature.

#captain boomerang #digger harkness #george harkness #captain boomerang x reader #captain boomer x you #captain boomerang fanfic #finnie writes

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showtoonzfan · 11 months ago

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Ganna rant about Episode 4 of Hazbin again. For starters it has the same issue that Seeing Stars did for Helluva boss, that being Loona giving Octavia advice in comparison to Husk giving Angel advice. While the characters situations are different, both Loona and Husk were the wrong characters to pick to give advice, or simply just comfort the other character. I’ve already seen some people say that Charlie or Vaggie should have been the one to cheer Angel up, and that would have made more sense. They’ve known him longer and it’s in character for them to do that. For it to be Husk, not only does it feel forced as an excuse to just hook Angel up with a boyfriend and get the shipping fuel going, but it doesn’t make sense narratively.

In Loona’s case, her situation was flawed because she just MET Octavia, didn’t know a thing about her struggles and spouts to her about how she should be thankful just because her dad is “trying”, and the show tries comparing both girl’s situations when they’re not the same. This is practically the same situation with Angel and Husk. While Husk is aware of Angel, he barley knows him. He hasn’t been at the hotel that long considering the pilot took place only a week ago. On screen, all that Husk knew about Angel was that he was a porn star who constantly flirts with everyone, him especially, and we as the audience only see that and only that when the two interact. However episode 4 claims that Husk can see right through him and know that this is all part of his persona that he displays. If we had more time with these two characters outside of flirty banter scenes, this would make more sense, but instead it’s all tell and no show, being rushed with the little time we’re given. Husk even says that the hotel residents go to him to rant their sorrows while they’re drunk and even THAT happens off screen and that’s the problem, the audience has no reason to believe that Husk knows Angel deep down or even cares enough to want to help him, in our eyes, all Angel’s been doing is sexually harassing him.

There’s no reason why these two need to have an emotional scene together, it’s unearned and unwarranted because we haven’t had enough time with these characters, just like Loona and Octavia, there’s just no purpose or buildup. I also resort back to what I’ve said before: Husk selling his soul to Alastor is not the same as Angel selling his soul to Valentino. The show tries to compare Angel and Husk’s situations and it’s just not comparable because Alastor isn’t a rapist who’s trapping Husk to sell his body and be used like a rag doll constantly. Had it been something like “you’re a drug abuser and I’m an alcoholic”- THEN that would have worked, but that’s not what we get, and this leads me to talking about why “Loser Baby” isn’t good.

Some people have already misinterpreted my opinion, so here’s a few things. Is the song in character for Husk? Yes. Is the song about Husk telling Angel not to act and just embrace himself? Yes. On its own, the song is fine outside of some distasteful lines. The CONTEXT, execution, and placement of the song is the issue. Episode 4’s whole purpose is to see just how much Angel suffers. He’s forced to work like a dog at the studio day in and day out, and he gets abused and SA’d by his boss and other demons constantly. He doesn’t have a say in anything and can never say no because he’s under contract. He can’t Fizz his way out of this one and just go “I quit”, he’s literally forced to work in the porn industry wether he likes it or not, and we see all of that on screen. We also explore just how much this affects him. They reveal some pretty dark stuff here, how Angel doesn’t even want his position as a famous porn star and is so desperate to be numb from the pain and suffering he endorses that he’ll get high constantly and let people drug him for nefarious reasons, it’s his escape. They dump ALL of that info onto us, only for this bullshit to come up:

So the writers slut shame him, call him a freak and an addict to laugh at because “haha he’s addicted to drugs and a slut”, even though we JUST got done with a scene that confirms HE DOES ALL OF THIS AS A TRUAMA RESPONSE. He said himself he does the drugs and is addicted to numb the pain, and his own flirting (while problematic) is shown to be an act of him hyper sexualizing himself due to what he goes through. It’s not excusable but it’s still a fact, and we’re supposed to LAUGH at him??? That’s what’s wrong with his character and what continues to be wrong, because Viv sees him as the butt of the joke. Every line of dialogue he has is always about sex and how we should laugh because he’s a slut, an it comes off as so distasteful and insensitive to not only people who have been abused/SA’d, but porn actors in general. We’re supposed to laugh when he talks about cock and sex, but the reason he’s doing it is so dark that we shouldn’t be laughing about it at all cause he’s a VICTIM, yet Viv thinks it’s funny. It’s so disgusting and makes my stomach twist. Angel is trapped being in a position he doesn’t even want to be in, yet his entire character revolves around comedic sex jokes, and once you figure out the reason behind said sex jokes, it feels so wrong.

And this is why Loser Baby doesn’t work. Aside from everything else I’ve already said, It doesn’t line up with what Angel is going through, it doesn’t line up with the rest of the episode. If you wanted Angel to have this arc about realizing he doesn’t need to stick to his persona, fine, but you should have done it in a different episode. This is why Husk comes off as telling him to just suck it up and stop whining rather than what he’s actually trying to say. It looks bad with how they executed it, it just looks like he’s telling an SA victim to get over it and stop whining and what’s worse is they compare their situations when it’s not the same. You literally have a scene of Angel telling Husk he lets people drug him, and not even a minute later Husk is calling him a loser. That’s the issue. The show doesn’t know how to read the room, build character relationships slower, is just so incredibly tone deaf and is hypocritical. We’re supposed to feel bad for Angel cause he’s sexualized to the maxes and is having trauma responses of that, but then we’re also supposed to laugh at him and his sex jokes while also finding him hot. Pick a fucking side Vivienne, the show wants to have its cake and eat it too and look where that’s gotten us. The writing is a fucking atrocious mess and yet it had so much potential if Viv actually cared enough to take Angel seriously, instead of just desperately wanting to give him a boyfriend, and a rushed arc where he magically feels better in the end.

#vivziepop critical #spindlehorse critical #hazbin hotel critical #anti vivziepop #Angel dust #Hazbin hotel #Vivziepop #hazbin criticism #hazbin husk

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rapunzellovesbooks · 3 months ago

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The entitlement some people feel over Luke Newton´s career is baffling to me. Like, people out here saying "Oh, he has not milked the success of Bridgerton enough, his time has passed" or "He played his cards wrong" is just... wrong. Like, I get it, compared to Nicola, in the past few months, she has been much more active on social media than him, but can you actually blame him? Yall saw one picture where he was clearly uncomfortable, running away from the paparazzi and destroyed him online. Then he went on a vacation after months of press (and God knows which auditions, jobs or fittings on the side) and made it seem like he was committing a crime. Then he posts about a trip to Spain and some of you go call the hotel to check who he was with. If I were him, I would not post anything online ever again, because there is no winning, is there? He commented on one of Nicola´s post and she had to delete the awful comments people left. All because of what? A picture taken out of context with a girl who is not Nicola. News flash, people are allowed to have other people in their lives, romantically or otherwise. And to the people thinking that he did it to disentangle himself from Nicola, what drugs are you on? Like, he was holding so tight to her the night before, so excited for the premiere of Part 2, always praising her and looking at her with love in his eyes, even when no cameras were on them. I bet if people had not haunted him on social media he would have posted bts, or shared funny edits but the toxic fandom made it impossible for him to do so in real time. Because, apparently, to some people, if he had posted about Nicola while not being officially together with her, that is leading them astray. Umm, what?

And then you have the idea that he is not working. Nicola literally signed off to do Magic Faraway Tree before Part Two and has a small role in it, and the rest of her work has been in fashion. He went to fashion shows as well. Both of them are signed to Season 4 of Bridgerton and from what we have heard, they have quite a big part in it. If it took them 8 months to do their season, I can, at least, see them being there for maybe 4 or 5 months of shooting. That is work. Going to rehearsals and fittings is work. They literally get paid for that. It is astounding to me that Nicola has no future projects lined up yet, same as him, but everyone is on his ass for the same thing he has been doing for years, work in private. Now, I am a shipper, I do believe they will be together eventually, but I genuinely do not understand how that has anything to do with people trashing him for his upcoming projects. He may not have found the project he wants to do or is waiting to share info. Also, I bet you Nic or him would have shared a picture of going back to set already if some fans weren´t analysing pixels on screens.

I do feel like there is a double standard here, because if Nicola had done the same, gone on vacation or been photographed with a random guy, everyone would have been like "Good for her, etc.". She gets on the Top 100 List for, honestly, being more present online with the work she does, but there are so many people who do great work who are not and will never be on that list. If Luke had gotten on it, some people would be so mad at him, I just know it.

I just miss them together and I have to blame the toxic fans for not seeing them together anymore. I do not doubt they have been in contact since, I mean, this whole ordeal happened because we are so obsessed with their connection, they must have talked about that infamous day, but also, I think some fans are creating stories of them not talking or growing apart that are just hurtful. Even before the world tour, they did not see each other every day, they do not have to speak every day for them to have a great bond. They simply cannot share it online anymore or, at least he can´t, because people over dissect every thing, even if it is just a smiley. Taylor Swift was framed with the whole Kanye thing years ago and she disappeared for a year. She was still doing stuff and seeing friends but we just never knew about it. And I get it.

It hurts me so much to see a genuinely nice and kind guy who did an amazing job as Colin get so many negative comments over nothing. Every time Nic does something, people throw it directly in his face. Oh, he was not at the Emmys. Oh, he was not at a fashion show. Maybe he does not want to be?! Maybe he couldn´t? Does Zendaya have to be everywhere with Tom Holland? Like, what?!

#lukola #nicluke #lukenewton #nicolacoughlan

#lukola #luke newton #nicola coughlan #nicluke

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williamkisser · 6 months ago

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A Luca x reader would be nice........... preferably slow burn and y/n is the shy type............. I'm hungry................. Thirsty............ Would beg....... Thank you.... *dying*

♡— The Prisoner with a shy S/O

♡— Oh my god… anon… N-N… NO!!!! Anon please, don’t do this to me… breathe. Oh my god. BREATHE!! *sniff* *sob* i’m… I’m so sorry i couldn’t save you, anon…. I hope you’re in a better place now… *sob*

♡— Warnings: g/n reader, fluff, possibly ooc i’m not sure, word count is 1400

♡— Luca Balsa, despite going through a turmoil of tragic events, never did once even try to stop working on his lifelong passion, god forbid even think of it. Yes, around him there were degenerates, murderers, thieves, even mystical, strange creatures - such combinations would drive any man crazy, as if anyone in here already wasn’t. But after all, finding something you could get absorbed in is the best method for killing time, don’t they say? Not even his developing issue with memory loss can stop him now.

♡— That’s why the prisoner, most of the time, could be found in the comfort of his own dorm, sitting by the desk while brain storming for yet another solution to the new experiment he was currently developing. And to be frank, he did quite like it this way. He had his own corner in the world, didn’t need to worry about money, could eat delicious meals and could even discuss some scientific matters with a few other enlightened individuals. And the prize for winning the game was even more tempting. Just imagine how much quicker he could develop his project with all this cash.

♡— Despite all the focus on his own dreams and scientific infatuations, Luca didn’t stray from engaging in interactions with other people. He’s certainly considered as one of the friendliest and most cheerful people in here. Some wonder if anyone im here ever managed to get on his nerve. He’s just very tolerable towards most, if not all, however, clearly he feels most comfortable near people who are willing to listen to his info-dumps, or engage in smart conversations, ask questions and give suggestions. There weren’t much residents in the manor like this. Most are either uninterested or too weirded out, therefore the prisoner always appreciated the open minded ones.

♡— Sadly, Luca’s past whereabouts left a permanent scar on him, making him a little unaware to some social cues. This man can not pick up on someone being painfully visibly attracted to him. He assumes all people willingly interacting with him are either friendly or just curious. Luca likes showing off and exchanging ideas with his mentor Alva, asking Helena for advice and letting her touch all of his tools or projects, trying to connect nature with science together with Luchino, or even explaining his ideas to the suspiciously fascinated Florian.

♡— And then there was you. A person very shy, awkward even. Everyone didn’t mind your presence, you just existed in your own bubble, in silence. Sometimes, someone would try to include you in some conversation, and while you did appreciate the gesture you just couldn’t grasp why you felt so uncomfortable, barely able to form a meaningful sentence. That was until you first encountered a young, quite charming in his own way man personally. You instantly became fond of Luca Balsa. Something about him just radiated pure happiness. He genuinely wanted to talk with you, sensing your anxiety, and you have no idea whether it’s for better or worse, because, oh God - he made you feel butterflies in your stomach and needles in your heart. You’ve got a crush on the Oletus manor’s „Prisoner”.

♡— You didn’t know what to do. The newly discovered feelings for the boy made your anxiety far more intense than it already was. Something in your head just screamed to not get too attached, after all, this is Luca Balsa we’re speaking of, he most likely doesn’t view you as anything else but a companion in matches. But, of course, the heart always does whatever it wants, ignoring the brain. That’s how you found yourself standing in front of his dorm doors, reflecting on if it’s alright for you to knock on them. What if he’s too busy right now and you’re just going to be a burden? This was a part of your mastermind plan - try to get into his interests and become a closer friend, and then…. maybe the friendship could bloom onto something else? You were in deep wonder, unaware that the doors are now open and Luca was waving his hand in front of your face. Earth to you.

♡— Either way, you spent some quality time with him together. He was very pleased to hear that you wanted to find out more about his projects and shared several insights related to his future plans. His dorm felt oddly cozy. You didn’t even realize that visiting Luca became some sort of a habit of yours, entering his workplace nearly on a daily basis - it made you forget about all the atrocities you witnessed during the bloody games. His voice was so soft and gentle, his eyes beamed as you kept asking questions about what is he doing right now. Luca felt so glad to elaborate and ramble about his passion. He’d even offer you to help him, giving you simple tasks as asking you to bring a certain tool. He was well aware of your shyness, so he was as understanding as he could, not forcing anything onto you. One day, Luchino teasingly called you „Luca’s little assistant”. The intense colour of your cheeks spoke for itself. You were head over heels.

♡— Quickly enough, your small acts of kindness turned into something way more serious. At one point, you felt like Luca’s own caretaker, because he was literally too absorbed in his work to pay attention to his own well-being. After you began frequently assisting him in not only helping to build some programs, you just took care of his needs. While Luca would love to stay up all night and didn’t like when people complained about it, oddly enough, he didn’t hesitate to tuck himself into his bed after you offered the prisoner too. You made sure he went outside and ate enough. Simple gestures like that were your own way of showing him affection, as you were too shy to be verbally affectionate.

♡— The whole situationship was now taking way too long. You were absolutely crazy over Luca, while he viewed you as a good friend and a fast learning companion. Everyone could tell you were following him like a lost puppy outside of matches, and he didn’t mind it at all. You just wished he would finally pick up on your real intentions, but at the same time you felt worried. What if he won’t talk to you anymore? What if there will be weird tension between the both of you if you confess? On one ordinary day, you were sitting by his desk as always, silently reading the notes hanged on the cork board while Luca came to you and asked to help him draw a technical sketch in his work notebook, to which you agreed to. After months of practice in his dorm you already knew how to properly draw a project on a piece of paper with accurate proportions - yet this certain sketch was new to you, you weren’t quite sure how to do it. That’s when Luca held your hand and guided it, helping you be more precise, and what an amazing, ecstatic feeling it was, his hand contained a specific, electric even, feeling on top of that. You blushed so hard you were surprised Luca didn’t even notice, but you knew you can’t be with him this way. You were hurting yourself by not telling the truth.

♡— This is how you found yourself sitting on Lucas’s desk, looking down and fidgeting with your fingers after telling the prisoner to listen for a minute. The whole thing was so stressful you can barely remember anything from that moment, not sure if it’s because of your own anxiety or if it’s the curse of this wicked place you’re stuck in. Either way, your confession to him was probably the most awkward one this Manor has ever seen - and it certainly saw a lot. Luca was surprised he didn’t manage to connect the dots for so long. He was focused on all the wrong things and failed to notice your affection towards him. Those were a few painful months, but he was going to make sure you know he appreciates all the help, not only on the projects, but also helping him take care of himself. Luca asked you for permission to kiss you while holding your hand, which you agreed to, feeling happy like never, making all your shyness go away for once… which did not last long, as Florian entered the room without knocking, making a loud „EWW” sound. Luca was going to make sure no one will interrupt you, scribbling something about a doorbell in his notebook right after kissing you like his life depended on it. Turns out, Luca Balsa now has found something to look forward to in his life other that science and innovative inventions - which was you.

Thank you for your request anon… i hope you can read this fic in the afterlife at least… anyways this my first time writing a fic for a character i’m not very familiar with. I tried to be as accurate as i could so i’m sorry if it’s ooc 😭 anyways it’s 2am now… idv x reader tag how are you doing on this lovely summer night

#idv #identity v #idv x reader #identity v x reader #luca balsa #luca balsa x reader #idv prisoner #idv luca balsa #idv x you

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showstopper35 · 9 months ago

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HII this is my second time using an ask box so,, here goes!

could you pretty please do the tfp cons n how they'd like act w/ a neurodivergent masc person? your stuff is really cool btw!! keep up the good work :D

thank you so much, darlin'! i hope i did alright with this request! I only decided to do these few, sorry!! I wanted to finish it 😅

Megatron

-He's quite busy (being intimidating is a full-time job, after all), but he doesn't mind if you accompany him on his bridge, chattering away about your interests or quietly entertaining yourself in some corner of the ship while he commands his troops.

-He does ask questions from time to time about your hyperfixations and special interests. If it's something he happens to like or be knowledgeable about, he will gladly talk to you about it and share a lot of information on the subject.

-He mostly leaves you alone during a meltdown or if you are overstimulated. It's not to be rude, he just doesn't really know what to do. He will be a bit more kind to you afterward, though.

Starscream

-Like Megatron, he mostly just listens to you ramble about things you like. He replies sometimes if it's something he happens to have an interest in. These conversations mostly happen when he takes you on flights.

-Privately does a bit of research with Kockout's help so he can better understand neurodivergence. It actually helps him better understand his own mental state and his brothers' as well.

-If he notices you are struggling, he might take you to a quiet room. He doesn't say anything if you thank him, but he is secretly glad he could help someone.

Soundwave

-The perfect partner to ramble to. He has recordings of all the times you've info-dumped to him, and he listens to them often when he's alone.

-Sometimes fidget toys or plushies of things you like will randomly appear. He doesn't mention it, and neither do you. You don't even know how he got them, but you appreciate it.

-After an outburst or meltdown, he lets you play with Laserbeak and plays back a recording of a time when you talked to him about one of your interests. It helps surprisingly well.

-Dissociates with you.

Knockout

-Literally showers you with fidget toys, sensory items, anything related to your interests, any physical affection you need, and literally any item you may ever need.

-Kind of gets upset if you don't make eye contact with him, but then jokes you are blinded by his finish and that's why you aren't looking at him.

-Seems to be always judging your haircut. Makes low-taper fade jokes. You don't know how he knows what that is. You threaten to give him a low-taper fade. He does it in a joking manner, though.

Breakdown

-Be ready for his golden retriever energy, because he can be a lot. He will respect your boundaries, but you might have to remind him a few times.

-Creates a sensory-safe place for you on the Nemesis. Lots of soft pillows and blankets, a few fidget toys, and even a pair of noise cancelling headphones. You’re still not sure how he even got ahold of them. -Has already fought anyone who even looks at you the wrong way or is too loud. He will do it again.

Dreadwing

-Honestly, he’s probably nuerodivergent himself. You take turns talking about your interests. He shows you his weapon collection and starts training you in the art of explosives, whether you like it or not.

-Often, if you need calming down or just want someone to talk to, he tells you stories about his twin. You are positive you know more about Skyquake than you do himself.

-Entirely picks you up and moves you to a quiet room during breakdowns and just sits with you and waits.

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juuuulez · 1 year ago

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📰 | part two: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour!Reader, female reader, father-figure Negan, enemies to lovers, forbidden romance, no use of (y/n) because immersion.

summary: During your first visit to Alexandria, when Carl misfires a gun, you’re instructed to “babysit” him. This does not go very well.

previous | next

I’m glad everyone liked the first part!! This one is definitely more juicy. Kids being kids. Writing the next part now, let me know if you have any particular requests!

Also (finally) titled!! Drawing heavily on Romeo and Juliet, except… more spiteful at the beginning.

A few days later, and you’re back.

The town of Alexandria is actually quite nice, when you aren’t being cooped up in a cell.

Your fellow Saviours seem to think so too, exploring the place, taking supplies they deem useful for the Sanctuary. After all, there’s mouths to feed, therefore you’ve stopped feeling bad for all these communities you bleed dry.

Well, you felt a little bad last night.

The lineup was rough, it always is. You hadn’t seen the brunt of it, instead sitting safe in the RV where Negan had all but interrogated you regarding your time locked up; coming from a place of concern for your well-being. But you stepped out just as dawn was beginning to hit, and saw the aftermath.

It was just for a few seconds, to retrieve a weapon from Dwight, but you felt a twinge of guilt as Negan taunted that poor boy.

At least he wasn’t wearing the stupid hat anymore.

Whatever, it didn’t matter. At least that’s what you told yourself. Guilt had no place in the apocalypse, especially not for the Saviours, a group of well earned apex predators in this bleak world.

That’s how you saw it.

You oversee the work of your people whilst Negan is talking with Rick. Everybody respects you.. or maybe everybody is scared of you. Scared of your father. Either way, it works.

You’re comfortable as a leader. Somebody who can give orders without hesitation. At the start, there was resistance. Who wanted to be ordered around by a teenage girl? But eventually everything fell into place, and people realised that you were a central part to this operation.

Then the sound of a gunshot rings through the air, putting everybody on edge. Weapons suddenly unholstered, dropping whatever menial task they were completing.

You command them to stand down with a wave of the hand, going to investigate yourself.

Fortunately enough, the situation has already been handled.

Or mostly handled.

“Just who I wanted to see.” Negan says with his usual prowess, however it’s dimmed by an underlying irritation. He brings you further into the room with a gloved hand on your shoulder.

He positions you there like a prize, something valuable. Or maybe a dangerous weapon. A constant show of ‘look at what’s mine, look at what she can do.’ You quite like that.

“Now, it appears that young Grimes is too trigger-happy for his own good,” Negan continues, to which you finally notice Carl standing in the middle of the room, “So why don’t you babysit him for me, darling?”

The boy is practically seething. That same expression you’d seen at the lineup, pure anger and rebellion.

You could feel yourself beginning to smile.

“Of course,” You agree, a grin spreading across your lips, “I’d appreciate a tour, to see if anything here interests me.”

There’s no reply. Carl glares at you, then shoots a pleading look at his father, but to no avail. Rick nods his head in the direction of the door, and you feel like you’ve just won the lottery. This was going to be good.

Now, you didn’t enjoy toying with peoples emotions, per-say. But getting them all riled up sure was fun.

And a teenage boy? This was like a gift from above.

Grown men grew tired of your commanding nature, they’d get violent, speak out of line. It was a dangerous game, one that you loved. Like a cat and mouse, or Icarus flying too close to the sun.

A teenage boy was much more in your ballpark.

“You play sports?” You ask Carl, who is walking a few paces behind you, begrudgingly following despite the fact he was meant to be showing you around. But you didn’t mind.

He doesn’t answer.

You turn to face him, shooting him a backwards glare of what the hell is your problem. “What, you took a vow of silence, or something?” It’s snarky, immature, prodding the bear.

But it works.

“No, I don’t play sports.” Carl answers reluctantly, his tone flat and unamused. It’s becoming more and more evident that when you’re in power like this, in control, you can be a nightmare.

You don’t bother to suppress your grin of satisfaction, turning back away from him, “Yeah, didn’t think so, stringbean. Bet I’ve got more muscle mass than you.”

This must do something, as suddenly Carl has closed the few paces between you, and is blocking your path from continuing. He’s in your face, closer than comfortable, but you love it.

“What the hell’s your problem?” He asks, clearly angry at your snide little comments. That righteous attitude is back. “You can’t come in here, and tell everybody what to do. We’re gonna fight back, and when we do, you’ll be sorry.”

You give him a firm shove, letting Carl stumble a few feet back, “Yeah, how’d that go for you back there, huh? Aim much?”

It’s a low blow, you know that, which is why it feels so goddamn good.

He opens his mouth to speak, but you interrupt him.

“Didn’t shoot me at the satellite station, either. I’m starting to think you’re more harmless than you’re letting on.”

“I’m not exactly in the interest of murdering children,” Carl retorts angrily, “What are you, twelve?”

“I’m seventeen!” You yell back at him, walking swiftly past the boy, but making sure to harshly bump your shoulders together. “Now show me your armoury. You’ve got something of mine.”

You’re walking too quickly for Carl to shoot back a comment, and he needs to awkwardly skip in order to catch up. This time he takes a few strides forward, making the effort to walk just fast enough to stay in front of you.

He wants to be in charge.

Luckily, you love to be petty.

As the pair of you reach the armoury, you swiftly side-step Carl, entering the room first, much to his dismay. You’re eyes are scanning the shelves, rows and rows of guns and weaponry, with one thing in mind. The bat.

“Too bad we’re confiscating all your guns, this is quite the collection,” You comment, finding a supply sheet to glance over, “Good job on that one, by the way. Aren’t you helpful?”

Carl essentially ignores your sarcasm, speaking from the other side of the room, “Looking for something?”

You turn, a momentary flash of confusion on your face, until you realise that he’s got it. The metal bat clutched in one hand, held up tauntingly. When you take a step forward to retrieve it, he only takes a step back.

“That’s not funny.” You say, a sense of agitation in your tone, that dominant and teasing persona gone in an instant.

It only causes Carl to grin, taking pleasure in this momentary inch of power he’s gained.

“You even know how to play baseball?” He asks, switching the bat into his dominant hand, pretending to slowly swing it.

“I do, actually,” You snap, reaching out to finally grasp the metal bat, taking it from his grip unceremoniously, “Wanna see? I can use your skull as the ball.”

This works to shut him up, judging by how Carl’s eyes narrow into a glare, but he doesn’t dare to say anything. You take this as a victory, once again knocking shoulders as you leave the small space, not bothering to shut the door behind you.

You’re not even a few meters down the street before there are footsteps again, Carl still following you, despite wanting otherwise. It makes that malicious grin to return.

“Aren’t you obedient?” You quip, not even bothering to look back at him as you speak, as if he isn’t worth the time. It’s a power trip, one you’re addicted to, one Carl is unknowingly feeding into. Or, maybe he does know, but can’t do anything about it.

Carl scoffs, “Coming from you. Do you always do everything Negan tells you to?”

It’s smart, getting you to roll your eyes in displeasure, that metal bat swinging by your side as you walk. “It’s called being a good soldier, like you would understand.”

“Yeah? Soldier, or pet?” He continues, and you can basically hear the grin in his voice.

The fuck does he know?

You finally spin around, grip tightening ever so slightly on the bat. Control is slowly slipping through your fingers, this stupid back and forth game beginning to get on your nerves, despite being the instigator.

“You wanna talk about pet?” You spit, closing in on his personal space, “Rick tells you to murder twenty people, and you do it? That’s called being a little bitch, okay, daddy’s boy?”

This works, as Carl’s face twists into a look of anger, his fists clenching at his sides.

But you continue, “This stupid group has had this coming for a long time. There’s no such thing as being the good guys, you’re just another bunch of stupid pricks, who need to be put in their place.”

It snaps something inside of Carl, because suddenly he’s giving you a harsh shove, where you stumble a few feet backwards. You mirror his childish temper, throwing your body at him with equal force, where the two of you awkwardly wrestle in the middle of the street.

You attempt to gain leverage, steeling your feet into the ground, bending your knees. Then, out of nowhere, you’re raising your arm with the bat, ready to try and dislocate his shoulder, or something. Anything. Just to show that you aren’t weak.

But before you can swing, there’s resistance, and you snap out of this little squabble to realise that somebody else is holding your bat.

“The hell are you doin’, girl?”

Negan swiftly lifts the bat from your grip, holding it at an arms length. You let go of Carl, whipping around to glare at the older man.

“He’s being a total jagoff!” You shout, twisting to see a similar look of discontent on Carl’s face, like he’s itching to leap back into your little fight.

It’s no use, because then Negan is holding your shoulder, giving you a gentle push in the opposite direction, “Truck, now. We’re making our departure.”

And you listen, despite everything telling you to continue. To prove yourself, maintain that power.

To make matters worse, Carl has taken this experience as some sort of mental victory, yelling out from the footpath, “Daddy’s girl!”

You can only turn, angrily giving him the finger as you storm off towards the gates, but it acts as fuel to the fire. Getting sick of that stupid expression, you turn back away, footsteps quickening in an attempt to seperate yourself from the ever so slightly humiliating experience.

Next time you’ll get him.

#twd x reader #the walking dead x reader #negan smith #carl grimes #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x you #twd x you #negan smith x reader

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camaelczarka · 6 months ago

Text

So, I think we all know that there’s going to be quite a bit more to the 2x07 trial and the 2x08 tower scene when Lestat tells the story. If you’ve read the Vampire Lestat, you already know what I mean; TVL is almost a wrapper for IWTV, and provides much of the context around Claudia’s death. I’m definitely going to spoil some events in that book in this post so watch out. Under the cut for spoilers.

The bulk of TVL describes Lestat’s mortal life, his relationship with Nicolas de Lenfent, his non-consensual turning into a vampire by Magnus who then shortly after jumps into a fire, his meeting Armand, his forming of the Theatre des Vampires, and Nicki’s eventual death by suicide that Armand greatly facilitated. There’s a lot more to it but basically it’s the backstory for why everything that happens to Claudia and Louis in Paris goes as horribly as it does.

Near the end of the book, Lestat revisits the trial. It picks up with him being extremely weak and sick for years after his ‘death’ at the hands of (mostly) Claudia. He doesn’t condemn her for it, or seek revenge, and says he understands why she did what she did. But being alone and having no one to turn to, he eventually decides to ask Armand for some of his blood so that he can recover, having no idea that Louis and Claudia are already in Paris. Still in his weakened state, Armand takes advantage of him to get information about Louis and Claudia and how they tried to kill him. Armand is reading his mind but it’s unclear how much info he gets there. Then, he traps Lestat under the theater and starves him until he’s forced to drink dead blood. He’s extremely disoriented and sick and is dressed up to look good and brought out to testify against Claudia. Then he’s taken away to Magnus’ tower (he also has the yellow dress here) and Armand flips out on him for breaking up his former coven and starting the theater, tells him Louis is also dead (a lie obviously), and pushes him out of the tower.

The key difference between the show trial and the book trial is the fact that the show makes the trial into a play with rehearsals that Lestat is (apparently) present for. So my question, knowing the book canon, is why would Lestat participate willingly, or did he even willingly participate?

Going on the book canon, it might simply be that Lestat is super fucked up in this moment, that Armand is controlling his every action except for the few times where he manages to break out of it and go off script. And I do think that’s possible if he’s weak enough- Armand is very powerful in that way, and Lestat might be unable to fend him off. I think this is possible- Armand explicitly states in the book that he wants Lestat to look presentable, and maybe that was enough to fool Louis.

But I actually think the show might have added another even more nefarious layer to this already fucked up event- I think that Armand has made some sort of fucked up deal with Lestat for Louis’ life. Because otherwise, none of this makes sense.

Why does there need to be a trial play with a human jury? Legitimately, there doesn’t. There’s no good reason for it- the coven was going to judge them as guilty no matter what, and the audience is going along with the play because they think it’s a show. Armand and the coven will have Claudia dead one way or another, they really don’t need a bunch of mortals to weigh in on it. So who was Armand trying to convince? The only answer is Louis.

Armand may have written into the script that Louis was supposed to die with Claudia, but I think he made a deal behind the backs of the coven with Lestat. That deal was maybe something like- “I let you get him banished, then I will take him out of the wall. Say nothing about your involvement or he dies.” Lestat is made to give up personal details of their lives together, seemingly freely. Why would be do this? Why would he willingly put himself in the position of the bad guy to Louis here? Even Louis wonders this in the interview. And there are even a bunch of moments where Lestat stalls in the middle of talking- and I think he’s fighting with Armand telepathically, or being reminded of the terms of this agreement. Louis and Claudia wouldn’t be able to tell what was happening, but Madeline would, so they keep her hypnotized until later.

Because, the coven DIDN’T spare Louis. Lestat getting him ‘banished’ didn’t spare his life at all, he was just dying slowly. Because again, the coven didn’t actually care about the audience jury, they just took him offstage for the main event. He was 100% still going to die. But Lestat DID still save him- by agreeing to let him go with Armand.

Lestat doesn’t answer when Louis accuses him of getting revenge during the trial. Lestat doesn’t provide any explanation in the tower in the next episode for why he participated. He allows Louis to hold him responsible for his participation and how it resulted in Claudia’s death. I feel like Lestat CAN’T dispute it, as per the terms of whatever arrangement he and Armand had. Armand takes Louis out of the wall, and the price of Lestat saving him from that is letting Louis decide to leave him. He can’t say anything otherwise, and he truly doesn’t think he deserves to anyway.

This also could explain why Lestat participated to begin with. He actually IS really weak and fucked up, so he couldn’t do much to save Claudia or anything really past getting Louis put into that coffin. Armand puts him into the impossible position of relying on him to get Louis out while also trusting that Armand can handle his suicidal husband, knowing that Armand is responsible for Claudia AND Nicki’s deaths already. This is why he is terrified that Louis is dead in 1973, because Armand has a track record and he knows that Louis has been suicidal before. But what other option does he have? Giving Louis up is the only way to save him.

This achieves 3 goals for Armand. He get Louis and finally (he hopes) severs Louis’ ever present love for Lestat. He gets rid of the coven, or at least gets out of it. And, perhaps most importantly, he injures Lestat in a way that he will truly never recover from. Nicki is dead, Claudia is dead, Louis hates him.

I think this is partially why Armand is so gleeful when he tells Daniel how long he and Louis have been together versus Louis and Lestat. His ultimate goal is to punish and hurt Lestat. Kill his daughter, make him watch, make him responsible. Make Louis hate him. Make Louis stay with him ‘forever’ of his own free will.

It also recontextualizes the line in the last episode where Lestat explains to Louis that he “gave him to Armand” and questions whether or not that was actually saving him. Which implies there was a goal beyond simply getting him offstage, and I think means more than just exchanging a boyfriend between the two of them. Louis had already left Lestat at the point, and while maybe they would have gotten back together already without Armand’s involvement, Louis wasn’t really ‘his’ to give. I think it means something more along the lines of he LITERALLY gave his bodily safety to Armand, knowing how much he couldn’t trust him. But, he had no other choice, because Armand left him with none. Let me have him or he dies.

I do actually wonder if Lestat was still imprisoned and starved by Armand, and I think there’s a high likelihood of that. I do think Lestat would have to be in a weakened state to agree to any of this. But it does add another psychological element to the original story that also explains some of the weirdness in Armand’s version of events. This is the part of the story that Daniel can’t totally decode, because only Lestat knows exactly what happened besides him. And Lestat may still assume that Louis has ‘figured it out’ in the present day, because all Louis says is that he knows Lestat ‘saved’ him. Lestat still is going to clarify events going forward, and the trial is a big reason WHY he he writes TVL, because he wants Louis to understand what happened there.

#iwtv #interview with the vampire #amc interview with the vampire #iwtv spoilers #lestat #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac #ldpdl #Armand #iwtv meta #speculation?#iwtv book spoilers

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marshallpupfan · 1 month ago

Text

Well...

I learned some PAW Patrol news today that, I must admit, has left me rather disappointed. Don't worry, this isn't a rant or anything. I just wanted to talk a bit about it.

If you were to ask me who my favorite PAW Patrol character is, my answer is obviously Marshall. As for my second-favorite? It's not one of the other main pups or any of the part timers. That's not to say none of them are on my favorites list though, as Chase, Rocky and Everest are in my top ten, just to name a few.

No, my second-favorite PAW Patrol character is... Claw!

Seriously, I just love this doberman. In fact, I became a fan before even getting to see him in action in the cartoon. The moment he first popped up in a leaked Rescue Knights image, I quickly fell in love with his design, especially his awesome-looking armor. That, and he was flying around on a huge dragon, which... come on, that's cool. And when I finally got my chance to watch him in an episode? In my opinion, he did not disappoint. For me, he's not only one of the most memorable aspects of Rescue Knights, but of season 8, period.

Naturally, once the subseries came to an end, I kept hoping that, someday, we'd return to it and see him again. Or, if anything, he'd pull a Sid and Arrby and appear in some regular episodes. Sadly, two and a half seasons have gone by since then, and both he and Rescue Knights have been a no show. Despite that, I held on to the hope that he'd eventually pop up in the cartoon again.

Regrettably, I might have to let go of that hope.

(Source)

Some of you might doubt this information, but Tybsy has provided many accurate leaks and insider info in the past, and he continues to do so. I've learned to trust his words.

It seems that, for some reason, the writers have been told to avoid pitching ideas for episodes based around Rescue Knights. Worse yet, they were told to do the same with Dino Rescue. Not only does this mean there's a slim chance of seeing Claw again, but possibly even Rex, too... another pup who I'd love to see more in the cartoon.

Now, there's a possible reason for them to do this with Rex and Dino Rescue. Given that a few sites have already started listing the third film with the name "The Dino Movie", it's possible it will indeed be quite similar, at least in some way, to Dino Rescue. It may even involve Rex! Currently, we still don't know for sure, but there have been some hints here and there that suggest he might be involved.

EDIT - I forgot there was another leak some time ago involving some file that relates to the third movie, and the metadata specifically mentioned Rex. There's a very, very good chance he'll be in the movie!

And although Tyby jokes, it is possible, however unlikely, that they do want to avoid creating continuity errors with what we've already seen with Dino Rescue. Just look at the errors we got with The Mighty Movie and the season 10 Mighty Pups episodes, most of which still confuse viewers to this day. If I were running things, I'd absolutely tell the team to make sure that DOES NOT happen again...

Rescue Knights, on the other hand? I see no logical reason to avoid it. I have my doubts that Claw or his dragon will appear in a theatrical film, especially before certain other characters (not impossible, but I wouldn't bet money on it), and I'm going to assume we'll never see him in Rubble & Crew or the two Youtube spinoffs, so... what gives? To make matters worse, now that the main TV series has switched to a new style, they'll have to modify or remake Claw's model to match the new designs, and I can't see that being a high priority. Again, not impossible... but it certainly doesn't help his odds.

My hope of seeing Claw again isn't 100% dead or anything, but I can't help but feel pessimistic about his chances. To think, all this time, it never happened because Rescue Knights has been restricted from appearing in future episodes. That's so disappointing, you know? I can only hope that they do indeed have something special planned someday for Claw, or they'll finally lift that restriction on his subseries... but truth be told, I'm not going to get my hopes up.

Well, here's to you, Claw. Even if we don't see you again, you'll always remain my favorite (ex) knight of Barkingburg! Still, here's hoping that we do get to see you again... someday.

#PAW Patrol #PAWPatrol #Claw #Claw Paw Patrol #ClawPawPatrol #Paw Patrol Claw #PawPatrolClaw #Rescue Knights #RescueKnights #Dino Rescue #DinoRescue

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enkas-illusion · 1 year ago

Text

One of Your Guys

One of Your Guys - Part 1/3

Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Choso x f!reader

Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Content Warning: Fluff, kissing, language, hurt/comfort, slight make out

Chapter Summary: You rant to your friend Choso about your crush and things take an unexpected turn when he confesses something that catches you off guard.

Author's Note: Hello, this is my first attempt at a short story. All characters are in their mid 20s. This is a pure cheesy, sappy, in-your-feelings vibe condensed into a 3-part story. If you enjoy it, feel free to like, reblog or comment; I’d love to know your thoughts. Thank you for reading!

~ Eren's Birdie

Song Dedication: One Of Your Girls by Troye Sivan

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“I really hate to be that person but… I told you so.”

You look at your friend with narrowed eyes, fighting the urge to roll them at him. If you knew you were in for a talking-to when you called Choso over to rant about the shit-show that you call your love life, you would’ve reconsidered it.

His face shows no sympathy for his poor heartbroken friend as he leans against your kitchen counter with his hands crossed at his chest. And rightly so, why would he anyway? Afterall, he’d told you to confess your feelings to your crush before it was too late and now here you are, admitting that ‘too late’ had arrived sooner than you’d expected.

“I know but I was scared of ruining our friendship, okay?” You sigh as your shoulders slump down. He simply shrugs at you as he walks towards the microwave when it beeps. His back is turned to you and a few seconds pass as you observe him following the usual routine.

You wonder whether making hot chocolate can be fixed into one's muscle memory. In that moment, you believe it might as well be the case for Choso as he takes the hot milk out, pulling the spoon out of the drawer while simultaneously grabbing the cocoa container from the shelf above him.

You want to laugh at how ridiculous it all seems. It’s not just the ritual of making hot chocolate, but the ranting sessions along with it that have turned into a daily occurance. How many times have you made your poor friend listen to you crib about your unrequited, unnoticed love for your best friend, Satoru?

In your defence, Choso was the one who’d initially annoyed you to death to get the info out of you. The genius that he is, Choso had figured out that you liked Satoru based on the way you interacted with the latter at a common friend’s house party. If someone were to ask Choso, he would tell them that your eyes would quite literally turn into heart shapes whenever Satoru talked to you.

“I’m sure you’d understand how I’m feeling if you were in my shoes.” you add as he stirs the spoon in the mug. He stills for a split second before continuing the movement.

“Chosoooo say somethin-” you trail off when he turns around to look at you as if he’s fed up with your bullshit.

He walks towards you and hands you one of the mugs before making his way to the living room. You mutter a small ‘thank you’ as you follow behind him. When you’re settled on the sofa, you sit with your legs folded on the seat to face him as he leans back on the opposite end.

As he takes a few sips of his hot chocolate, he can see your brain working overtime to come up with a summary to explain all that you’re currently feeling. He almost finds your struggle to speak up adorable, when usually you always have 10 things to say and then some more.

“Fine, tell me exactly what he said.” Choso breaks the silence to give you an opening.

Your eyes soften with relief at his statement as you take a sip from your mug, “So… yesterday Satoru had invited me to a common friend’s house party but I had declined since I wanted to sleep the weekend away. And when I woke up in the morning, I opened Instagram to scroll a bit as usual and saw Satoru had added to his close friends’ story. I figured it’d be the usual party snaps… I was already feeling the fomo of not going so I clicked on it right away… and what do you know??? THE FIRST FUCKING PHOTO is of this pretty girl on his lap and he’s kissing her cheek. I swear it felt like my heart had dropped to my stomach.” you pause to take a few sips.

“Wait so based on a single snap, you assumed he’s dating her?” Choso frowns, visibly confused.

“No, of course not! Since Satoru often does get touchy like that with me as well, I did not want to assume so I replied to the story. I said something on the lines of ‘congrats on getting the girl big man, don’t forget about me though ahahaha.’”

This time you pause to observe Choso’s expressions and he’s visibly cringing hard. “Don’t say it… I’m aware how pathetic it is.” you pout as you fidget with a thread that’s sticking out of the sofa pillow.

Choso swats your hand away to stop your fidgeting before he gently squeezes one of your feet with his free hand that isn’t holding his mug. “Poor baby,” he teases as he rubs circles over your skin, “Go on, I promise I won’t tease you.”

“Well, he read that within seconds and I got a call from him. He sounded a bit reserved at first as he broke the news to me… apparently, they’d been talking to each other for about a month… I had no idea,” you take a deep breath as it pains you to say the next sentence, “Last night, Satoru kissed her and confessed his feelings. Turns out she feels the same way for him so now they’re together. I said congratulations and cut the call… he sounded so happy.”

You turn your face to avoid Choso’s gaze, trying hard not to let the tears slip from your eyes. He moves closer to you as he places both of your mugs on the coffee table. He pulls you by your wrists, guiding your arms around his waist as his own wrap around your shoulders. As your face rests on his chest, you start sobbing silently.

“Shhh, it’s okay, it’ll pass.” he tries to console you, brushing his fingers through your hair.

“What if I don’t want it to pass? I should be happy that the man I consider to be my best friend has found such a perfect girl for himself, but here I am, wishing it were me instead. Am I a bad friend for feeling that way?” you look up at him, still teary eyed.

“No, you’re not a bad friend. Your emotions are all over the place because something unexpected has happened. You weren’t anticipating this so you’re hurt and it’s okay to feel sad. You’re here crying in front of me instead of trying to sabotage his relationship or whatever… that is proof enough that you’d rather deal with the hurt than hurt other people.” you sigh as you listen to your friend’s soothing words.

You rest your head on his shoulder as you close your eyes. Choso rubs your back gently before adding, “You’d only be a bad friend if you refuse to wipe your tears and snot off my t-shirt later. I’m not even kidding, I want this shit washed with that soft fabric conditioner you have, all crisp and ironed to perfection!”

You slap him where your hands were resting on his lower back, causing him to let out a tiny wail. It causes you to laugh for the first time after having been sad all day long.

Choso moves away, breaking the hug to create some space between as he hands your not-so-hot chocolate back to you. His knuckles rub your cheek to wipe the wet trail that had been left behind by your tears. He opens the palm of his hand to rest it against your cheek gently.

“I know you may not feel like it now, but you’re going to be fine.” he smiles as he reassures you.

You place your hand on top of his as you lean further into his touch, finding it a little too comforting. In an attempt to take the focus away from your problems, you ask him, “Have you ever liked someone who didn’t like you back?”

“Hmm…you.” he nods. You smack his hand away as you sit up straight.

“Choso! Be serious! You never tell me anything about your love life! You’re always joking around.” you complain.

“That’s because there’s nothing there to tell! I tell you about all the other aspects of my life cause they’re much more entertaining than my love life.” he answers with a tone of sincerity. You pout, not convinced.

He rolls his eyes at your persistence and adds, “Well what do you want to hear about? Would you rather have me talk about all the Tinder dates I fuck and never see again?”

You scrunch your face at the crudeness of his words, “Nope.”

“My point exactly… anyway do you want to watch something?” he asks as he grabs the remote. You nod as you both gulp down the remaining of your drinks. You get up and take the mugs to the kitchen to wash them while Choso scrolls away on Netflix.

When you return to sit next to him, his arm grabs your waist to pull you in closer to cuddle as he presses play. You rest your head on his shoulder as it begins. When you realise what he’s playing, you tilt your head up to look at him. “Really? Bridgerton?”

“Yeah… and season 2 cause it’s the better one. We literally have the whole evening to binge” he states, unprovoked by your almost condescending tone. You decide not to tease him about it.

Before you realise it, hours pass by and you’ve binged half of the show. As the characters were introduced, Choso filled you in on the details and it almost felt like you hadn’t missed season 1 at all. There was additional unnecessary commentary that came along with his explanation of plot points, but you weren’t complaining.

Spending time with your friend like this, where the heartache you felt this morning seemed dull in comparison to laughing at his lame jokes, is exactly what you needed to relax. You let the chatter in your brain melt away and instead focus your awareness on the present moment – a task that had almost felt impossible before you’d asked Choso to come over in the afternoon.

Cuddling so close to him, you notice the smell of his perfume is a lot stronger. You breathe in his scent, a smoky wooden smell with just a tiny hint of something sweet to it. It’s a distinctly familiar scent you’ve grown accustomed to ever since the two of you began cuddling together during your frequent movie nights. The dynamic you shared with Choso was similar to your relationship with Satoru, minus the romantic feelings you had for the latter.

Choso’s right arm rested around your waist while the other rubbed lazy circles on your knee, whereas your right hand was resting on his chest with your torso leaning into his side. And while there was an unspoken agreement that even cuddling with Choso was platonic; your flatmate, Mia, was certain that it was only a matter of time before something would happen between the two of you.

You’re grateful she’s not at home for the weekend to tease you about tonight. If she saw the two of you right now, the teasing you’d have to endure would be insufferable. You smile to yourself when you think about it.

When you get to the scene where Anthony goes feral over Kate’s scent, you joke about how you feel the same way about Choso’s perfume.

“You like my perfume?” he asks, surprised, making sure he heard you right.

“Always have.” you admit, “I know it’s oud, but what’s the sweet floral scent with it?”

“Jasmine.”

“Oh… I like it. It’s perfect, not too sweet, not too harsh.” you say, trying not to be too obvious as you try to sniff at his t-shirt. Before you get a chance to do so, he leans back and shifts his torso to lean in closer to your neck instead.

“Are you wearing any right now? I never really noticed your scent.” he speaks softly and you can feel his breath on the side of your neck. You pull back instantly, feeling flustered and hot. You blink a few times before you shake your head side to side. He chuckles as he goes back to his original position, his focus shifting back to the TV.

Is he seriously oblivious to how close you two just were or does it simply not faze him at all?

You mentally slap yourself for misinterpreting his seemingly innocent actions. He leans back comfortably with one hand on top of the headrest and you shift back into his embrace. A few minutes pass before his hand behind you moves closer to caress your neck, you feel goosebumps rise on your lower spine as you move away from his touch.

“What?” he asks, confused.

Either this man is an idiot, or he’s fucking with you to rile you up.

He pauses the show to hear what you have to say. “Don’t do that. It feels… ticklish.” you choose your words wisely.

“Well, it wasn’t my intent- aww, are you ticklish?” he inquires mischievously as he raises an eyebrow. Before you can answer, he grabs one of your feet as he roughly yanks it, making your back fall flat on the sofa. You let out a shriek as he moves on top of you and cages you between his arms, ready to tickle you.

You start yelling at him to stop, laughing hysterically as he tickles you. You try pushing him away but fail to do so as his muscular figure leans even closer to yours. You have tears in your eyes from laughing and after a while, you’re basically begging him to stop.

When he finally stops, he looks at you with a smug smile of victory on his face as your laughter slowly dies down. There’s a moment of silence when your eyes meet and you get a strange feeling in your stomach. Maybe butterflies, but possibly anxiety for what your instinct tells you is about to happen.

You notice Choso’s gaze move down to your lips and you mimic him. He involuntarily licks his lips as your breath hitches in your chest. He lowers his head till your faces are just inches away from each other and he gently nudges your nose with his.

His left hand moves up to the side of your neck and he caresses your jaw with his thumb. You lift your head up at the same time when he leans down and your lips meet. His lips feel plump and wet as you close your eyes.

Who kissed who first? You wonder but all of your thoughts keep getting lost before they have a chance to rise to the surface. The only thing occupying your mind is the way his lips feel on yours, your skin burning where he’s touching you.

His right hand grips your hip to push it down further into the cushions of the sofa. His hand on your neck moves down to your throat as he chokes you slightly, as if to test the waters. He smiles into the kiss when he hears you moan.

He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. The way his tongue moves has you entranced. His movements feel languid, yet they contain enough force to convey an intense passion.

Your hands move of their own accord as they make their way to hug his shoulders. He breaks the kiss as his lips leave a trail of quick pecks down your neck. Your head tilts back to give him better access. He sucks on the spot just below your ear and your palms bundle up his t-shirt, creasing the fabric.

You moan louder than you’d intended to when he bites the spot and his fingers dig into the meat of your thigh. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks as he licks a strip up along the front of your neck. He hooks your leg that he’s holding around his lower back and presses his hips down to grind against yours.

“Fuck… Choso-,” you say, out of breath. You can feel how hard he is through his sweatpants. He lifts his head up and his hair is all messed up, the smaller strands have escaped the bounds of his hair tie and frame his face in a way you can only describe as delicious. He kisses you on the mouth once again and you have to close your eyes shut to regain your composure.

As much as you don’t want him to stop, you know better than to let the situation escalate even further. Your hands move to his chest and you firmly place them there but don’t push him away.

Fuck. About time you tell him to stop.

You move your head to the side as you try speaking softly, “Chos-”, but he grabs your face to turn it back to him and bites your lower lip, continuing the kiss. You’re pretty sure he can feel your wetness as he grinds his hips, pressing against you. You groan at how good it feels.

You kiss him back, pulling him impossibly closer by his t-shirt. He pulls your bottom lip with his teeth again before releasing it. “Fuck… baby, you feel so good,” he groans as his hand pulls your t-shirt down and his face moves to your collarbone to leave another hickey.

“Ahhh… Choso, please,” you moan at his touch. He comes back up again as he stares down at your neck, proud of the light mark he knows is going to turn dark purple later. He kisses you on the lips once again.

Before your desire wins over the rational part of your brain, you press your hands firmly to his chest. He leans back a bit as he understands what you mean. He reluctantly moves away from your face but his hands still hold you in place. His eyes look hazy and full of lust. By the way he looks at you, you’re certain yours don’t look any different either.

So much for not wanting to fuck up another friendship.

“We can’t...” you mumble, but clear your throat to speak up clearly, “Choso, we can’t do this.”

“Why not?” he retorts softly, his thumb moving across your bottom lip. You sigh as you grab his wrist to remove his hand. He moves his hand through his hair to push back the stray strands as he sits back up to create space between you two.

For a split-second, you find yourself missing his warmth before you sit up straight to look at him. You envelop his hand into yours and you hold it like that as he waits for you to speak up.

“This feels strange… I don’t want to make you feel as if I’m just using your body to get over Satoru. It already feels like I’m gonna lose him as my best friend, I don’t want to lose you too…” you trail off as you lower your head with shame.

“What if I didn't mind you using me to get over your stupid crush?” he replies. It was the last thing you’d expected him to say. Your eyes widen in surprise as you look up at him.

“I think it’s pretty evident that I have a thing for you,” he continues as he looks down at his crotch. Your eyes follow his and you can see the imprint of his hard on over his sweatpants. You look away quickly, not wanting to ogle at the sight.

“It’s just your dick talking…” you almost whisper, not wanting him to hear your accusatory tone. He pulls his hand out of your grasp before running his fingers through his hair once again in frustration.

You know you hit a nerve when he groans slightly as he speaks up, “Far from it… I’ve liked you for a while now. But you’re so blinded by your crush for that blue-eyed snowflake fuck that you can’t see anyone else. Least someone who can treat you far better than he does. Anyone can tell that you have a crush on him… Satoru knows, your eyes tell, he just conveniently ignores it. I’m not sure why you’re so crazy over him but it hurts me more than I'd like to admit when all you care about is Satoru this, Satoru that. Fuck Satoru! What the fuck is it going to take for you to finally see me?”

You’re speechless. Your brain feels like it has stopped computing altogether.

What the fuck?

Even if you want to say something, you fall short of the right words. Your lips part to speak but close again. Choso notices this and his jaw tightens. He mumbles a ‘be right back’ as he gets up abruptly and makes his way towards the washroom.

You’re still sitting in your place when he returns after a few minutes. The edge of his hairline is wet but he’s dried his face. As if washing his face had washed away his agitated state of mind, he looks more composed now.

“Choso..” you get up quickly and walk to him.

“It’s getting late, I better leave. I’m sorry.” he interrupts you. He turns away from you and walks towards the apartment door. You follow behind him quickly as you call out his name again. He knows how much you hate leaving things hanging in a limbo till the next meeting.

He turns around and cups your face with both his hands. They’re cold now. His eyes meet yours as he speaks, “It’s okay… I shouldn’t have sprung that on you like that. You’re going through your own shit. I shouldn’t add more onto it.”

He smiles and leans down to kiss your forehead. You try speaking up but he interrupts you once again. He does not want to give you an opening. He wants to leave things in a limbo tonight. He wants to remember the way your lips felt and not let it be overshadowed by your rejection that came after.

“We’re okay,” he presses and you know he’s not going to listen to you tonight. “Goodnight.”

You put your hands on top of his to hold them in place when you sense him pulling them away. He moves them away regardless and instead squeezes both of your hands. His touch feels so different from how it was just a few minutes ago and you want to cry.

You can’t help but feel as if you’ve ruined your friendship and you feel him slipping away. Maybe you’re being a bit dramatic but he’s being so formal and indifferent that it almost makes you feel sick.

“Hey,” he stops your train of thought, “I’ll see you later, okay?”

No, please stay. You want to say but you don’t dare to. You can’t… not with everything that just happened.

“Goodnight.” you force a smile at him and he squeezes your hands once more before leaving.

You stand there, staring at your closed door for a good few minutes before you turn the TV off completely and retire to your bedroom. Every single scenario and all the endless outcomes play in your head but above everything else, Choso’s confession of his feelings for you plays in your head on loop like a broken record.

You’re still unsure of how you feel about it as you fall asleep an hour later, still thinking about him. You hope in desperation that come morning, you’ll be wiser at deciphering the mess of your emotions a bit better.

MDNI banner: @benkeibear

#erensbirdie #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsukaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso kamo #choso x reader #jjk choso #choso #choso smut #choso x you #choso jjk #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

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writingforstraykids · 1 year ago

Text

Minchan Masterlist🖤

Fluff: 🌹 / Angst: 💭 / Smut: ❤️‍🔥

Work Count: 56

More Minho | Chan content here: Collection of Masterlists

Info: Every fic without the fem/male/gn Reader attached in the title is a Minchan only fic

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

No more secrets (femReader) - 💭🌹

Minho longs for nothing more than to show everyone how much he loves you and Chan. Due to past events and worries about their careers, only Chan's and your relationship is public. After getting back from a trip, he can't cope with being Chan's and your dirty little secret anymore.

Only joking (femReader) - 💭🌹

After dance practice Chan and Minho get into a small fight and one of Chan's jokes crosses a line.

Be nice - 🌹💭❤️‍🔥

Sometimes, Chan helping him out isn't what Minho wants, and this time, they get into a fight. Later that day, they talk it out, but it never stays at that with them...

Safe space (femReader) - 💭🌹

Minho has always been the strongest, never showing when he's upset to never worry Chan and you. When he comes home hurt one night, that starts to change.

Pretty please (femReader) -❤️‍🔥

You've ended up in bed with Minho or Chan as friends with benefits a few times by now. Chan and Minho had a similar agreement for quite a while themselves. After proposing to Chan to all spend some time together, he promises to talk to Minho. Coming home from an event Chan can't keep his hands off Minho, completely ignoring Minho's concerns about you still being home.

Second chance (femReader) - 💭🌹

Chan and you help Minho the night he gets out of his abusive relationship. Due to your shared past Minho seems anxious to intrude. A year later things seem to be going well until a situation escalates and triggers a panic attack.

Soft thoughts on Minchan-🌹

Title says everything.

Only the best for you -🌹❤️‍🔥

Felix's birthday party turns thrilling for Chan and Minho as they sneak away for a moment of privacy...more or less.

My heart remains with you - 🌹💭

Prince Minho, the neglected second son of the king finds a dear friend in Chan who later becomes his knight. When war parts them the lines of friendship and love start to blur.

I always see you - 🌹💭

After their break Minho isn't quite happy with his currently gained weight. Struggling to accept himself, his friends make it worse by pointing out the changes of his body lovingly and teasingly. Chan tries to figure out what's wrong, but it takes a while until Minho lets him.

Whispers of the Moon - 🌹💭

In the heart of Seoul, beneath the gleaming skyscrapers and ancient palaces, lies a hidden world of magic and mystery. Chan, a gifted healer, and Minho, a shapeshifter hiding as a sleek black cat, find their destinies intertwined in this enchanting underworld...

Ready, pretty?❤️‍🔥🌹

One night, after sharing a few drinks, Minho feels safe enough to overshare a little, thinking Chan is too drunk to remember the next day. He doesn't know that Chan remembers every word and is more than willing to help him with his little issue.

100 types of kisses - 🌹

Prompt 22 -> A kiss in a rush of adrenaline.

100 types of kisses -🌹💭

Prompt 20-> A kiss on a scar

You always come first -🌹💭

Worrying Chan is by far one of the things Minho hates most. So when he hurts himself during practice one day, he'd rather die than tell his boyfriend. His body isn't quite happy with his choice, forcing him to open up at some point...

A worthy opponent - 🌹(💭)

Chan comes home late, once again finding Minho already asleep in their bed. Minho makes sure to get his love comfortable and grant him some rest.

Scenarios/Drabbles

Anon ask 1-❤️‍🔥

Sometimes you and Minho make Chan feel so good he forgets he's the one in charge and starts begging.

I need a hug - 💭🌹

Minho can't relax after their concert and searches for the comforting warmth of his only hyung late at night.

I need a hug (smut edition) - 💭❤️‍🔥🌹

The same as above but with smut

Minho comforting Chan after a rough day - 🌹💭

...title says it all.

Mhm, I know - 🌹

Minho overdid it a little at their practice room and Chan's there to take care of him.

Minchan x reader series

More than friends (femReader) - complete

More than friends Pt. 1 - 💭🌹

Having a crush on both Minho and Chan, you hate seeing them stupidly in love and happy. One day, you snap at Chan, hurting Minho in the process. Minho picks you up the next day since you two have a lot to talk about...

More than friends Pt. 2 - 💭🌹

Things with Chan don't work out as expected and he seems a little irritated by your sudden deep bond with Minho, feeling left out. When he doesn't feel well you're the one taking care of him...

More than friends Pt. 3 - ❤️‍🔥🌹

Chan and you grow closer as time passes by and after your first kiss things are still unclear. That's until Chan walks in on you and Minho and you walk in on Minho and him only shortly after..

More than friends Pt. 4 - ❤️‍🔥🌹

Chan has trouble forgetting about the day he stumbled in on Minho and you. With Minho gone for business and stress rising he decides to take matters into his own hands...accidentally calling you instead of Min ...

More than friends Pt.5 -❤️‍🔥🌹

On your ride home, Chan notices Minho needs some extra attention tonight, and before you know it, you're invited. Chan makes sure Minho and you feel comfortable throughout the process and lets you experience your own dominance once Minho fully submits to the both of you...

I owe you a kiss (femReader) -ongoing

I owe you a kiss (femReader) - 💭🌹

As the upcoming comeback gets closer, Chan starts isolating himself from you and Minho, getting overwhelmed. He can't quite deal with feeling so much and nothing at all at the same time and takes it out on the two of you. Minho and you try to help your husband out.

I owe you a kiss Pt.2 (femReader)-🌹💭

Minho and you work out a few methods to help Chan acknowledge his feelings, good or bad. Both you and Minho have nothing but Chan's best in mind, slowly realizing how insecure Chan truly is...

I owe you a kiss Pt. 3 (femReader)-🌹💭

Whilst Minho and you grow closer his relationship to Chan is strained, suffering from all the responsibility he has to carry for the group. You want nothing more than your boys to work things out..

I owe you a kiss Pt.4 (femReader)-🌹💭

Chan arrives at the hospital to be there for his family in person. The news they receive about you aren't what they expected and Minho can't help but blame himself. Your husbands try to navigate their life as you recover.

I owe you a kiss Pt.5 (femReader) - ❤️‍🔥💭🌹

Chan and Minho enjoy their evening together before realizing how much they truly missed each other over the past six months. After their shared lazy night, they get an important call...

I owe you a kiss Pt.6 (femReader) - 💭🌹

Once you're back home, your husbands try their best to support you, but the circumstances are taking their toll on you. It all goes well until you find out who was the one driving that night...

I owe you a kiss Pt.7 (femReader) - 🌹💭

The more time you spend with them, the more you realize you're not the only one struggling. Chan and you try to sort things out, making sure Minho feels safe at home as well.

I owe you a kiss Pt.8 (femReader)-🌹💭

Three weeks later, you're still feeling left out. Your therapist suggests communicating your worries to your husbands, but this doesn't go as planned.

I owe you a kiss Pt.9 (femReader)-🌹💭

Minho and you spend a day at the art gallery, Chan takes you out for dinner by the river. Both of them try their best to make room for you and reconnect. You haven't been so happy in a while.

Minchan series

Addicted to you Series (mainly Minchan)🌹💭❤️‍🔥 - completed (requests open for additional content)

Minho and Chan have been secretly in love with each other for ages. One day, they act upon their feelings, and their new bond grows without any clear boundaries. Whilst Minho is hopeful for their future, Chan is scared of the public finding out; a big fight seems to destroy everything they have and takes a toll on the whole group. Will their love for each other outweigh the hurt and fear of possible consequences? Or will they keep on hurting and longing for each other without finding any common ground?

Chapter 1 - 🌹

Minho and Chan are very good friends, with nothing but friendly admiration between them. At least, that's what they both fail at pretending to. The most simple acts of kindness seem to draw them in deeper without the other one knowing...

Chapter 2 - 🌹(💭)❤️‍🔥

Listening to previously recorded audio files of Minho makes Chan question his feelings for his younger friend once more. It gets even harder to ignore when Minho joins him and notices. One thing leads to another, and they both deal with Felix almost catching them differently.

Chapter 3 -🌹(💭)❤️‍🔥

Chan and Minho finally decide to talk more in-depth about their experiences and current feelings. Chan slips up once again, and Minho finds himself in his lap sooner than he thought.

Chapter 4 - 🌹❤️‍🔥

The next morning, Minho gets caught slipping out of Chan's room, only to find out that Felix knows damn well what happened the night before. Chan can't help himself, teasing Minho right back into bed. Minho decides to trust him all the way...

Chapter 5 - (❤️‍🔥) 💭🌹

Felix tells Minho how much Chan adored him months ago already. Chan and Minho reminisce about the times they realized they loved the other one. Everything seems to be great for months until it isn't, and Chan feels like everything is too much. Minho tries to accept it for a while but gets into a fight with him as he snaps at Jisung.

Chapter 6 - ❤️‍🔥💭

Minho misinterprets a message of Chan and climbs his balcony despite his fear worried for him. Chan finally opens up to him about what's been worrying him. Another fight during dance practice makes Chan realize how much he's hurting Minho and he has his own way to fix things.

Chapter 7 - ❤️‍🔥💭🌹

Another two months later, things seem to stabilize again, and Minho is happier than ever with Chan despite his injury slowing him down. Everything seems to be perfect until their friends confront Chan about a possible relationship, and Chan's fear of being out in the open gets the better of him. He notices too late that Minho's right there, hearing everything...

Chapter 8 - 💭🌹

Felix and Jisung stay the night with Minho, making sure he's okay. The next day, Minho tries his best to avoid Chan as much as possible but fails miserably. Finally alone, Chan follows his heart...

Chapter 9 ❤️‍🔥💭🌹

Felix decides to try a new way to cheer Minho up for a bit, falling back into old patterns with him. Chan walks in on them and at first, Minho doesn't care...until he does.

Chapter 10 - 🌹💭

The night Felix and Minho have shared raises questions amongst their friends and Minho feels pushed into a corner. Another fight with Chan escalates and Felix and Changbin step in. Minho and Chan try to work on their differences and get closer.

Chapter 11 -🌹💭

Staying together for the night, Minho and Chan have trouble fighting against what they both long for deep down. Making out in the kitchen, they get caught by Felix, who isn't very amused. Both Chan and Minho try and figure out how things will develop from here on.

Chapter 12 -🌹💭

After weeks of pushing himself beyond his limits Minho's body gives up and he collapses during their live performance. It's Chan who's by his side when he does and also when he wakes up again...

Chapter 13 - 🌹💭

Back home, Minho decides to make the best out of his break and opens up to his mother about the past events. After finding some letters his friends wrote him, he calls Jisung. It takes him a week to finally open Chan's letter, which seems to change everything...

Chapter 14 - 🌹💭❤️‍🔥

Chan decides to stay for a few days, and they can't stay away from each other for long. Minho's parents let Chan off with a gentle warning. Chan shows Minho the songs he wrote about him and Minho takes it differently than expected.

Chapter 15 - 🌹💭❤️‍🔥

Chan bottoms for the first time, enjoying it much more than he thought he would. While Minho and Chan are busy, their friends can't help but wonder what they're up to at the moment. Minho shares his thoughts on further steps with Chan...

Chapter 16 - 🌹💭

Chan takes the news better than expected and they end up having a casual date night. The next day Chan has a little surprise for him, making things official for the two of them in private.

Chapter 17 - 🌹❤️‍🔥

Chan and Minho enjoy their newfound comfort in each other despite all the headlines their recent strolls around town made. Chan invites Minho and his parents to dinner to celebrate their "anniversary. " The boys spend their evening alone in a nearby hotel, worrying their friends about possible consequences...

Chapter 18 - 🌹💭

After their shared night Minho wakes up to Chan packing his things. He sure finds out why and Chan's plans backfire, sending Minho down the spiral of anxiety and trust issues. Minho decides to fill in the rest about some recent decisions and his true mental state.

Chapter 19 - 🌹💭

Minho enjoys his time back with the boys and teasing Chan on set for Red Lights before returning home. He joins his friends for the upcoming week abroad, knowing there'll be some interviews coming up. On their flight, Chan and Minho settle some ground rules for the near time.

Chapter 20 - 🌹💭

Back in public Minho tries to build up the courage to open up about what really happened without revealing too much. His friends support him every step of the way, hearing some things for the first time as well. Chan has to decide how open he really wants to be and walks the fine line of supporting his boyfriend and keeping their relationship a secret. Especially after Minho's first performance doesn't go as planned.

Chapter 21 - 🌹💭❤️‍🔥

Chan and Minho organize a long break for the whole group, knowing they all need one after these troubling times. Five months later, Chan gets a taste of Minho in his best form, and he couldn't be more proud.

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giveafike · 11 days ago

Text

Twinkling Tales - B.T.S

TLDR: night drive w your darling boyfriend, Ben. This is part 8/12 of Azzie's Advent Calendar 2024!

Word count + info: 5k + dialogue.

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW! No warnings : )

Azzie Notes ✚: only one third left to go! Oh goodness, where did the time go?? These next few are gonna be quite the cutesy, kissy, smoochy ones - hope u enjoy! Super romantic shtuff as the holidays and the idea of family really starts getting to Benny <3

————————————————————————

Ben’s bedroom was warm and quiet, the soft hum of the heater blending with the occasional creak of the house settling. It was just the four of you now, Emma and Alex took their leave in the morning for some "private time", whatever that had entailed. Lisa and Bryan are downstairs somewhere, leaving you and Ben cocooned in the privacy of his room.

You lay sprawled across his chest, the plaid of your pyjama pants brushing against his, matching perfectly with the navy tops he’d bought for the two of you weeks ago. The scent of his cologne lingered faintly on his shirt, a clean, woodsy comfort you’d grown to associate with him. One of his hands absently combed through your hair, fingertips occasionally trailing along your scalp, lulling you into a cozy stillness. Around the room, bits of Ben’s past clung to the walls and shelves; posters of tennis and NFL legends, a few wrinkled, aged post-its on the mirror and desk, and books that charted the years of his life. Your gaze caught on a shelf where Diary of a Wimpy Kid books sat next to heavier finance textbooks from college, the juxtaposition making you smile.

“You really had it all, huh?” you teased lightly, pointing over to the well-worn book spines. “From Greg Heffley to… whatever these numbers mean.”

Ben chuckled, not bothering to look up from his phone. “What can I say? I’ve got layers, babe.”

You smiled, shifting a little to get more comfortable against him, your cheek pressed against his chest as you lazily traced the seams of his shirt. His breathing was steady beneath you, and his fingers continued their soothing path through your hair.

A quiet “Oh, woah... shoot,” broke the moment as Ben tapped at his phone screen.

You tilted your head slightly, looking up at him. “What?”

“They set up the Christmas lights drive-thru already,” he said, tilting the screen toward you so you could see an Instagram story of a mutual friend’s car rolling through a glowing tunnel of lights. Reds, greens, and golds blurred in the video, capturing the festive chaos of it all.

“That’s so cool,” you murmured, resting your chin on his chest to get a better look, eyes half-lidded.

Ben nudged you gently, his voice soft. “Yo, you with me?”

“I’m here,” you replied, smiling sleepily as you glanced up at him. “Barely, though. This head massage is putting me out.”

He smirked, locking his phone and tossing it onto the nightstand. “Well, stay with me for one more minute. Got an idea.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh no. Do I even want to know?”

“How about a late-night drive?” he asked, his tone light but his eyes earnest.

You blinked, the suggestion catching you off guard. “Now?”

Ben shrugged casually, but his smile grew. “Yeah. Just us. Fresh air, Christmas lights, good vibes.”

You hesitated, looking at him. “You just want an excuse to show off the G-Wagon, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a small laugh. “But mostly, I just wanna spend some time with you. Come onnn baby, what do you say?”

“Urgh, Ben,” you groaned, half-burying your face in his chest. “I don’t want to get dressed. It’s so cozy and warm in here.”

Ben chuckled, fingers still playing with your hair as he shifted slightly beneath you. “Then don’t,” he said simply.

You glanced up at him, skeptical. “What do you mean, don’t?”

“I mean exactly that. Stay like this. We’ll match in our PJs,” he said, grinning as if the thought was brilliant. “Just throw a coat on if you’re cold. You’ll still look cute, as always.”

You raised a brow. “You’re really not letting this go, huh?”

He smirked, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Nope. Come on, my baby. Let’s go.”

With a resigned sigh, you rolled off him, and the two of you made your way downstairs. The house felt quieter now, with Lisa and Bryan the only other ones left at home. As you reached the bottom step, Bryan popped his head out from the living room, eyeing Ben like a hawk.

“Where you headed?” Bryan asked, leaning casually against the wall.

“Just for a quick drive,” Ben said, slipping his hand around your waist.

Bryan’s gaze softened as it flicked to you with a smile, and he nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips as he eyed the matching pjs. “Be safe. That’s precious cargo you’re carrying there.”

Ben smiled back, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. “Don’t worry. I’ll always take care of her. Always be my best for her.”

Bryan gave him a small nod of approval before retreating into the living room.

You tugged Ben’s arm, leading him toward the garage. “Precious cargo, huh?” you teased.

Ben smirked. “Well, he’s not wrong.”

When you stepped into the garage, Ben walked ahead to the car, unlocking the car with a beep, but then stopped and leaned with his back against it, his eyes soft as they settled on you, watching you tug one of his old zip-up hoodies onto your smaller frame.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, the words quiet but heavy.

You tilted your head, confused. “Ben, I’ve been right here.”

“Yeah, but not just you,” he clarified, his gaze dropping briefly before meeting yours again. “I miss being around just you.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten, and before you could respond, he stepped forward, wrapping his hands around your face, his thumbs brushing gently along your jawline. He kissed you then, slow and sweet, but there was a longing in it that made your knees weak. His lips moved against yours like he was trying to make up for lost time, and you melted into him, your hands clutching the soft fabric of his cotton shirt.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours as his breath mingled with yours in the cool garage air. He lingered a moment, looking at you like he didn’t want to let you go, before finally opening the passenger door for you.

You smiled softly at him before you climbed into the passenger seat, and before you could even settle in, Ben leaned over again, his hand brushing your hoodie aside to sneak around your waist as he kissed you again. This one was deeper, more desperate, his lips moving fervently against yours as though he needed you to know how much you meant to him, pushing you against the headrest. Your hand instinctively cupped his face, and as you gently broke the kiss with a giggle, he leaned into your palm, his lashes fluttering closed. His lips pressed softly to the centre of your hand, and when he opened his eyes, there was nothing but tenderness in his gaze.

“I love you so, so much,” he murmured, the words low and reverent.

Your heart swelled, and you smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek, mumbling an 'i-love-you' back before he finally straightened up and made his way to his seat.

As Ben buckled in and started the car, you glanced over at him, curious. “What was that second kiss for?”

Ben smirked, his eyes flicking toward you before focusing on reversing out of the driveway. “I just needed to, didn't get enough the first time. What, I can’t kiss my girlfriend now? ”

You rolled your eyes, but a soft smile tugged at your lips. “You can, but that one felt… different.”

“Different how?” he teased, his tone light but with an undercurrent of something more serious.

You shrugged, trying to put it into words. “I don’t know. Just felt… extra.”

He chuckled as he turned onto the main road, the faint hum of the heater filling the comfortable silence. “Maybe because it was,” he admitted after a beat. “Sometimes I just can’t help it. You make me want to kiss you all the time.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you glanced out the window to hide your grin.

The roads were clear, the snow from the past days now a mushy slush on the shoulders, but the air still carried that crisp, wintry bite. Ben drove at an easy pace, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh. He looked so at ease, but there was a spark in his eye like he was up to something.

As Ben guided the car onto quieter streets, the faint glow of Christmas lights decorated the houses you passed. Some were understated, a single wreath or a strand of lights framing the roofline. Others had gone all out, with inflatable Santas and elaborate displays synchronised to music. You leaned back in your seat, your eyes roaming over the decorations, while Ben’s voice became your personal tour guide.

“That house,” he said, pointing to a modest, single-story home with a lone string of flickering icicle lights, “that used to be one of the best on the block. I’m talking full-on winter wonderland. They had those old-school, oversized bulbs that looked like they’d burn your house down if they got too hot.” He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Guess they’ve toned it down. Probably ran out of steam, time catches up to everyone.”

You tilted your head toward him. “Do you think that’s what happens when you grow up? Your holiday spirit just… fades?”

Ben shrugged, slowing the car as you approached another row of homes. “Maybe. Or maybe you just find different ways to celebrate. It’s still there; it just looks different, y'know?”

He glanced your way, and his lips quirked into a smile before continuing. “Or maybe you just need a reason to light it back up again.”

You smiled, rolling your eyes as warmth spread through you despite the coolness of the night.

As you moved down the road, Ben motioned toward a house with a swing set in the yard. “That’s where Emma and her friends used to set up their lemonade stand every summer.”

“Emma? Selling lemonade?” You grinned at the thought, already amused.

“Oh yeah,” Ben said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “And bracelets. They were super into making those friendship bracelets, you know, the ones with the tiny beads and string? She’d make me buy them with my allowance.”

“Did you actually wear them?”

“Pfft, no...not really.” He laughed, tapping his thumb on the wheel. “I’d give her the money and then mysteriously ‘lose’ the bracelet by the next day. I wasn’t gonna walk around with a neon-pink bracelet that said ‘Best Bro.’ forever. She always threatened to never make me one ever again after we'd fight...I'd yell back 'Thank God! Hated it anyways'. But really they're all in a drawer somewhere in my room.”

You laughed, the mental image of a young Ben, begrudgingly supportive yet entirely uninterested, making your chest warm.

“She actually had this whole setup,” Ben continued. “Like a real little businesswoman. She made her friends call her the boss. Wouldn’t let them eat the lemon slices because it ‘cut into profits.’” He shook his head, his laugh deep and affectionate. “It was ridiculous.”

“And yet, you bought into it,” you teased.

“Hey, she’s my sister. What can I say?” Ben grinned, clearly enjoying the stroll down memory lane. “Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna clown her for it, though. It’s my job as her brother.”

The car crested a small hill, and the neighbourhood gave way to the outskirts of town. Ben pointed to a street corner where a chain pharmacy now stood. “That used to be a candy store,” he said, his voice softening with nostalgia.

“What kind of candy?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“All kinds,” he said, gesturing with one hand as he drove. “They had these huge jars of sour candy that would wreck your tongue if you ate too much. Hershey bars that were somehow fresher than the ones you get now, man I loved them bad. And they always had those peanut butter cups in seasonal shapes. Like, in December, it’d be Christmas trees. Emma and I would race to see who could finish one the fastest without choking.”

You grinned. “Let me guess, you won every time?”

“Obviously.” He shot you a smirk. “She’d get halfway through and start laughing, and then it was game over.”

The car slowed as Ben turned onto Main Street, the downtown area glowing softly under strings of lights that crisscrossed above. He nodded toward a retro-looking diner. “That’s where we used to hang out after school. Back when I didn’t have a license, I’d walk here with Emma and some of her friends. She’d order a massive milkshake every time, and she always made me drink the last bit because she’d get too full.”

“She sounds resourceful,” you said, amused.

“She’s something,” Ben replied, shaking his head with a fond laugh. “But yeah, we had good times there, Dad would sneak us there sometimes if Mom was workin' late or held up at work. Lots of bad decisions were made there, too. Like seeing who could eat the most fries dipped in a chocolate shake before feeling sick.”

“And again, you won, didn’t you?”

“Naturally,” he said again, feigning arrogance.

You leaned back in your seat, your smile lingering as Ben continued pointing out spots that had shaped his childhood: a tree where he once built a makeshift swing with friends, a now-closed theatre where he saw his first movie, a small patch of grass by the elementary school where he fell off his first bike.

With every story, you felt like you were stepping deeper into Ben’s world, seeing the layers of his past that made him who he was. It was simple, yet so intimate, and as the car rolled onward, you reached over to intertwine your fingers with his, giving his hand a small squeeze. He glanced your way, his smile warm and genuine, and you knew he felt the same.

The car’s soft hum filled the air as Ben took a smooth turn, guiding you onto the highway. The town lights dimmed behind you, replaced by stretches of open road and the occasional car passing by. You glanced over at him, the soft glow from the dashboard illuminating his profile, the strong line of his jaw, his hand relaxed on the wheel.

For a while, neither of you spoke. It wasn’t uncomfortable; it was the kind of quiet that felt natural, as though the moment didn’t need words. But then, Ben let out a soft exhale, like he’d been holding onto a thought that he wasn’t sure how to voice.

“You know,” he began, his tone easy but introspective, “I think I forgot what the holidays were supposed to feel like for a while.”

You tilted your head, watching him. “Go on...”

He shifted his grip on the wheel, his thumb tapping lightly against it. “I don’t know. It’s just… these past few years, I’d come home from tour or tournaments, and I’d be so worn out. The holidays just became this time to stop, to rest, to not think about anything. Which is fine, you know? But it was always just… quiet. A little… empty, I guess.”

You frowned slightly, your brows furrowing in concern, but Ben quickly glanced over and shook his head, giving you a soft smile.

“Not really in a bad way, babe,” he reassured. “It’s just that I think I stopped caring about the little stuff, like decorating or traditions. Like had no energy to do anything. Even the big stuff, like feeling excited about Christmas morning.”

He paused for a moment as if considering his words. “But having you here this year? I don’t know… it’s different. Better. It’s like I feel all that magic again. Like, when I see the tree or hear a Christmas song, I don’t just think about how it’s another thing to check off the list or somethin' to tolerate. I actually feel it.”

Your heart softened, and you squeezed his hand. “Oh, Ben…”

He smiled, glancing at you briefly before looking back at the road. “I’m serious. Having you here with my family, it’s like I’m a kid all over again. Like Santa’s real, and I’m trying to catch him in the act or something.”

You laughed lightly, the sound filling the car as you leaned closer to him.

“That’s so silly,” you teased, though your voice was tender.

“Maybe,” he admitted, a slight chuckle escaping him. “But it’s true. You make everything feel… fuller. Like, all those little things that used to seem like a chore, they’re exciting again.”

You looked out the window for a moment, watching the faint glimmers of lights from distant houses as the car sped along the highway, helping you blink back tears. The way Ben spoke, so honest and warm, wrapped around you like a blanket. You turned back to him, your smile soft.

“You’re really gonna make me cry on this drive, Ben,” you said, your voice half-teasing but thick with emotion.

Ben laughed, low and deep, shaking his head. “Hey, I’m just tellin' you the truth.”

He shifted slightly, stealing a glance at you again, his gaze lingering a little longer this time. “I just… I hope you know how much it means to me. You being here. It’s not just about the holidays, either. It’s everything. Like you came here to me. You make things feel lighter, like even the messiest, busiest days aren’t so bad if I know I get to come home to you.”

You swallowed hard, your throat tight with emotion. Reaching out, you gently placed your hand on his arm, feeling the warmth of him through the sleeve of his shirt. “I know, Ben. And I feel the same way.”

His lips quirked up in that small, crooked smile of his, the one that never failed to make your heart flutter. He gave your hand a quick squeeze where it rested on his arm.

“I don’t say it enough,” he murmured, his tone softer now. “I know I’m not the best with words, but I’m trying to get better. Because you deserve to hear it. You deserve to know how much you mean to me.”

The highway curved ahead, and Ben’s hands stayed steady on the wheel, but his voice carried all the weight of his feelings. “It’s just second nature, you know? Loving you. It’s like breathing, honestly babe.”

You blinked rapidly, trying to keep your composure as his words settled over you. The warmth of his sincerity was overwhelming but in the best way.

“Ben,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “I don’t think you realise just how much you mean to me, too. You’re-”

He grinned, interrupting you with a quick laugh. “Careful, you’re about to get sappy on me, and I'm drivin'. Precious cargo, remember?”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t hide the grin tugging at your lips. “Says the guy who just gave me a whole movie monologue.”

Ben laughed again, his head tilting back slightly as the sound filled the car. “Okay, fair. You win this one.”

The two of you fell into an easy silence again, the kind that only came when everything felt right. The road stretched ahead, and just as the first distant glow of the drive-thru light show came into view, Ben reached over and threaded his fingers through yours, holding on tightly.

“Hey,” he said, his tone quieter now but just as warm. “I won't say more but....thanks for coming along for the ride. In every sense.”

You smiled, leaning your head against the seat and squeezing his hand back. “Always, Ben. Always.”

Ben leaned over to kiss you, your lips lingering for a moment. His smile widened, and before you knew it, his hand left your thigh to playfully scruff up your hair.

“Ben!” you shrieked, batting at his arm as he laughed.

“What? I’m just showing some love!” he teased, his chuckle low and warm.

“You’re so annoying,” you said, smoothing down your hair, though your own laughter betrayed you.

Ben’s laughter softened into a smile as he let his hand drift to your cheek, cupping it tenderly. His thumb brushed over your skin, and despite still driving, he made the moment feel like it was just the two of you in the world.

“I love you so much,” he said, his voice deep and steady, his eyes flickering between you and the road up to the drive-thru.

Your heart squeezed, the weight of his words settling over you like a warm blanket. You placed your hand over his, holding it against your cheek. “I love you too, Ben,” you said, your voice soft but sure.

He gave your cheek a quick, affectionate squeeze before placing both hands back on the wheel, his smile lingering as the glow of the drive-thru lights began to grow brighter.

As you approached, the massive entrance to the light show came into full view. It was unlike anything you’d seen before, a distinctly Floridian take on Christmas, quirky and completely endearing.

The first thing to catch your eye was a giant glowing gator decked out in a Santa hat, lounging with a candy cane between its teeth. Next to it, animatronic palm trees were strung with twinkling green and gold lights, swaying side to side, their trunks wrapped in spiralling patterns. Instead of traditional snowflakes, neon orange slices were hanging from the branches, their vibrant colours popping against the dark sky.

“Okay, this is so Florida,” you said, grinning.

Ben laughed as he slowed the car to a crawl, taking in the scene with a mixture of amusement and appreciation. “Right? Gotta love how we just lean into it.”

Further down, a massive glowing sun-wearing sunglasses and a Santa hat loomed over the pathway, its animated rays waving cheerily at passing cars. Beneath it, Santa was stretched out on a sunbed, sipping from a coconut with a tiny umbrella sticking out. The sign beside him read: “Merry and Bright, Sunshine Style!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sheer absurdity of it all tugging at your heart. “This is so ridiculous! I love it.”

“Ridiculous in the best way,” Ben agreed, his grin widening as he pointed out another display, a beach scene with reindeer building sandcastles, their antlers strung with Christmas lights.

“Look at those reindeer! They’ve got flip-flops on!” you said, your laughter bubbling up as you leaned forward to take it all in.

Ben chuckled, his eyes darting between the road and your delighted expression. “You’re loving this way too much,” he teased, though the way his voice softened gave him away.

The path curved through more displays: dolphins leaping out of a glittering blue ocean, flamingos in Santa suits, and even an orange tree with ornaments shaped like snowflakes. It was silly and over-the-top, but it was also so uniquely Floridian that it warmed you to the core.

“Whoever designed this deserves a raise,” you said as a giant neon Santa waved you through a glowing archway that read “Warm Wishes from the Sunshine State!”

Ben reached over to squeeze your hand again. “Glad I could share it with you. You’re making it even better, you know?”

You turned to him, your heart swelling at the sincerity in his voice. “You’re such a softie, Ben,” you said, but your smile gave you away.

“Only for you,” he said, his voice teasing but warm as he guided the car through the final stretch of the light show.

The two of you basked in the glow of the lights, the soft hum of holiday music playing faintly from one of the displays. It was quirky, silly, and completely charming, a perfect little moment shared just between you and Ben, the warmth of his presence making everything feel just right.

As the drive-thru came to its grand finale, the path opened into a small rest area where they sold hot chocolate and offered a “Meet Santa” experience. You and Ben pulled up to the window, where a man in a Santa suit leaned out to greet you, his red hat slightly askew.

“Merry Christmas!” Santa said, extending a gloved hand through the window.

“Merry Christmas!” you both chimed back, grinning like kids.

Ben shook Santa’s hand and, with a completely straight face, said, “Thanks for bringing her to me this year. Best present ever.”

You burst into laughter, covering your face as Santa chuckled warmly. “Well, you’ve been good this year, haven’t you?” Santa said.

Ben winked at you. “Oh, she keeps me in line.”

You rolled your eyes, still laughing as you took the hot chocolates handed to you through the window.

The drive home was quieter, the soft glow of the dashboard lights illuminating Ben’s face as he focused on the road, ready for the drive home. You sipped your hot chocolate, feeling the warmth seep through the cup and into your fingers.

“Tonight was perfect,” you said softly.

Ben glanced at you, his smile faint but genuine. “Yeah?”

You nodded and sighed contently as the car glided through the quiet night, the world outside a blur of soft lights and shadows. Inside, it was just the two of you, cocooned in the hum of the engine and the warmth of your joined hands. The earlier laughter and excitement of the drive-through light display still lingered, but now, a comfortable silence had settled. You glanced at Ben, his profile illuminated by the dashboard’s gentle glow, the curve of his lips softened in thought.

Then he spoke, his voice quiet and reflective. “I want this every year.”

You turned to him, your curiosity piqued. “What do you mean?”

He took a moment, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he gathered his thoughts. “All of it,” he said earnestly. “The matching pyjamas, the silly late-night drives, baking disasters that somehow work out in the end. I want to look over at you smiling, even if it’s just because you think I’m being cheesy and annoying.”

A small laugh escaped you, but his words had already begun to stir something deep inside.

“I want you to meet all my friends and fit into every corner of my life, and see it too, y'know? I can’t wait for Christmas Eve when the rest of the family comes down from Atlanta, and man, I get to show you off to them, too. But more than anything…” His voice dipped, softer now, almost vulnerable. “I just want you here. By me. Every time, all the time. Now, next year, and every year after that -hell, every day.”

Your heart swelled at his words, a lump forming in your throat as you tried to process the depth of what he was saying. He hesitated, casting a quick glance at you before focusing back on the road. “I know it’s still soon, and I don’t want to rush anything. But you mean so much to me. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and it’s not something I take lightly.”

You didn’t trust your voice just yet, overwhelmed by the honesty and vulnerability in his tone. Instead, you lifted his hand to your shaky lips, pressing a tender kiss to his knuckles. His gaze flicked to you briefly, and you caught the boyish grin that always made your heart flutter.

“Ben,” you finally managed, your voice soft and steady, “you have no idea how much that means to me. Being here, being with you and your family, it feels like I’ve found something I didn’t even know I was missing.”

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his smile deepening.

“And your mom adding me to the family group chat?” you added with a laugh. “That might’ve been the highlight of my month. It’s such a small thing, but it made me feel like I belong. I’ve never had anything like this before, Ben. And I just… I love you so much. Being here with you, with all of you, it’s the best thing I’ve ever known.”

His grip on the wheel tightened slightly as he glanced at you, his gaze soft but intense. “I love you, you don’t even know how much. every day, I feel like I can’t love you more, and then… I do. you make everything better, babe. I can’t wait to see where this goes, our future. I know what I want, and that’s you. Now, later, always.”

You reached over, placing your hand on his thigh as your own emotions bubbled to the surface. “You don’t have to wait, Ben,” you said quietly. “I’m already here. I’m not going anywhere.”

The smile he gave you then was brighter than any Christmas light you’d seen all night. When you finally pulled into the driveway, the house quiet and dark, you both lingered in the car for a moment, soaking in the magic of the night.

As you leaned against him, you couldn’t help but feel like this was the start of something beautiful, a foundation not just for the holidays, but for everything yet to come.

#Azzie's Advent Calendar #azzie asks #ben shelton #benshelton #ben shelton x reader #atp tennis

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