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vettelsvee · 6 months ago

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CLIFFORD AND EMILY | Sebastian Vettel

history series main masterlist | requests here!

ferrari sebastian vettel x race engineer girlfriend!reader

word count: 3195

summary: y/n tells seb that it would be a great present for his birthday to adopt a puppy, and they find the perfect one

warnings: fluff, fluff and more fluff. dad ferrari!seb as i can't get rid of him. based on 2018 season and narrated on seb's pov

a/n: once again, this is part of history series (coming soon as is being heavily edited) and translated by cele! changed my layout to my comfort people so are you like it? also, as always, i'll be waiting for your feedback, as well as comments and chats on that anon button please! and also, don't forget reblogs are truly appreciated guys! tysm <3

Normally, I didn't have trouble getting up in the mornings, especially during Grand Prix weekends, but today it had been incredibly hard to leave Y/N and Emily sleeping.

Maybe the problem was that today was my birthday, and, in part, we couldn't spend it like a normal family. I didn't mind working on such a special day, but it did bother me when I thought it was my first birthday with Emily.

Very reluctantly, I decided to start my day, trying not to let my bad mood consume me. As soon as I set foot on the floor, I adjusted the sheets to cover my girlfriend, taking the utmost care not to wake her. Nights with our daughter were exasperating, and I didn't know how Y/N managed to be at one hundred percent during team meetings, press conferences, free practice sessions, qualifying and the race, and especially the briefings and all the data analysis her job entailed.

I trained with Eddie for just an hour and a half. According to him, my birthday present was a less strict training session; even so, we ran a lap around the block where the hotel was located, and then we went straight to the gym.

At half-past seven in the morning, to my good fortune, he told me I could go back to my room to get ready for that Friday.

I entered as quickly as I could, being very careful because it was still quite early, and I assumed my girls would be resting. Deep down, I knew that wasn't going to be the case, so I wasn't surprised to see Y/N, still in her pyjamas, walking back and forth while breastfeeding Emily and trying to eat a piece of toast.

“God!” She quickly swallowed the bite and pretended she hadn't been eating. I couldn't help but laugh at how cute the scene seemed to me. “I'm so sorry, Seb. I had ordered breakfast to be brought up and ready for when you came, but I was so hungry and wasn't sure when Eddie would let you go today…”

I shook my head and approached her. I left a short kiss on her lips and then placed another on my daughter's forehead.

“Happy birthday, sunshine,” she said, wrapping her free arm around me. “How many birthdays have we spent together now? Eight?”

“Seven,” I corrected her, remembering we didn’t get to spend the 2008 one together. “And I hope there will be more because I'm not going to let you get rid of me anytime soon.”

“Do you really think I'm going to get rid of you so soon? In case you don't remember, we not only work together: we also share a house, a cat, a daughter, and we're going to have a dog…”

After that last part, Y/N let out a small scream and covered her mouth with her hand.

If I was the one who could keep secrets perfectly, Y/N Y/L/N was the complete opposite.

“What do you mean by a dog, Y/N?”

“Oh, well, I don't know… I must have mixed up some conversation I had with Aristella about Cherry,” her nerves were quite noticeable. “I got confused, and…”

“Y/N, I know you perfectly, and I know when you're lying to me. What did you mean by we’re going to have a dog?”

Given my insistence and, why not say it, the poker face I probably had, my girlfriend sighed. She placed Emily in the crib next to our bed and, while asking me to sit down and start having breakfast, took her mobile phone and immersed herself in it.

“Well, you see…” she began, sitting in front of me and taking a strawberry in her hands. “Since you adopted Vanilla as a surprise for me, I've been thinking that I would like to do the same for you, but between the chaotic 2013 we had and Emily's birth, I found it a bit impossible. It's also true that it's something I would like to discuss before doing it because it's a matter that depends not only on me but also on you,” she clarified.

“And that means…?”

“Forget it, Seb. It doesn't matter. I haven't told you anything, okay? Forget it.”

It bothered me to see her so indecisive, though it didn’t stop me from finding her idea quite endearing deep down. I knew she was nervous; the constant fiddling with the napkin and her flushed cheeks were proof of that.

“Do you want to adopt a dog?” I asked her, loud and clear.

“It’s not that I want to adopt a dog. Well, I do, but…” she sighed, stopped eating breakfast, and looked at me directly. “The thing is, I know you’d like to have a dog, and you’ve had that idea in your head for quite some time, so I thought that, only if you want, we could adopt one,” she finally explained.

“Do you want to wait until we get back home? If you want, we can talk to Michael and have him recommend…”

“No, no, not at all! I’ve already talked to Lewis about it, and he’s informed me,” she hastened to clarify. “Since I wanted to do all this, if possible, today, I asked him where he adopted Roscoe and Coco. I thought today was the perfect day for the adoption because it’s your birthday,” she repeated.

I nodded as I got up and headed towards Emily’s crib, who had started crying once more.

“I mean, all this is only if you want, of course,” Y/N spoke again. Before I could respond, she interrupted me once more. “But if you want, we can do it when we get back home. I don’t mind, except I wouldn’t have another birthday present to give you…”

Still holding the baby in my arms, I approached her and silenced her with a long, slow kiss, one I took my time with but received no complaints about, quite the opposite.

Y/N always went out of her way with gifts, even during times when her finances weren't the best. I much preferred her giving me something symbolic over an expensive whim.

So, the fact that she wanted to adopt a dog today, as my birthday present, made this thing I had wanted for so long even more special. Plus, thinking that Emily would grow up with the new member of the family made it a thousand times better.

“If my girl says it’s happening today, then we should follow her lead,” I finished saying. “What time do you think we’ll be done with everything we have to do today?”

[...]

“I hope there aren’t too many people, because if Britta finds out we’re doing all this without telling her…”

“Y/N, relax. If there’s any problem or anything, I’ll handle the press. Besides, it’s not like they don’t know me: remember I adopted Roscoe and Coco there, so they know me quite well.”

Lewis had decided to come with us to, according to him, ensure his friends received proper treatment. Deep down, I knew it was because he didn’t want to see Aristella, Britta’s niece and Y/N's best friend, hanging around Rosberg even while they were in the middle of their divorce process.

Hamilton’s concern for the girl wasn’t just something a friend would have, and I knew he was fully aware of that.

“Do you have something in mind, Seb?”

Lewis’s voice snapped me out of my trance.

“Sorry, what?”

“If you’ve thought of a name for the dog,” the dark-haired man spoke again. “I hope it’s something different from the usual. You know, the world has too many Tobys and all those common dog name variants.”

“If we’re talking about giving common names to pets, Seb is your guy,” Y/N spoke now, almost shouting. “When he adopted Vanilla just to get me to move in with him, he told me Garfield was a better name. Garfield, like the cartoon cat! If that’s not common…”

“What do you want to call an orange cat, Y/N? Vanilla? I remind you that you wanted to name her Cheeto…”

“Because she looked like a Cheeto and I thought it was a male!” she retorted. “Later, when I realised she was female and not so orange, I named her Vanilla.”

“Vanilla, I like it. It’s an… interesting name,” Lewis intervened. “Can I ask why you named her like that?”

“Y/N's favourite ice cream flavour is vanilla. That, and if you add the fact that cats are her favourite animal…” I answered in her place.

I saw Y/N's lips curve slightly in the rear-view mirror.

Then, she turned around and put a hand on my leg, stroking it.

“I hope you find the perfect name for the new family member, love. Even if it’s the same as every other dog in the world,” she said ironically.

After those words, I realised we had arrived at the shelter Lewis Hamilton seemed to admire so much.

The Brit, as he guided us towards what appeared to be the entrance, commented that we should be careful with Emily, not because the furry ones were aggressive, but because they got very excited when they had visitors, especially if they were children.

A dark-skinned woman with completely dark hair was at the door, as if she had been waiting for us for a while. Lewis gave her a hug and immediately introduced us.

“These are Sebastian Vettel, his girlfriend Y/N, and their daughter, Emily.”

She gave us a smile, and I saw she intended to shake our hands until she saw our little one. She approached to dote on her as soon as Y/N gave her permission with a glance. Emily’s laughter began to fill the room, and she started to move cheerfully in Y/N's arms.

“I’m so sorry for my lack of manners, but when I see such a beautiful baby like this little one…” the woman began to say, still playing with the child. Then, she cleared her throat and looked at both of us. “Nice to meet you, couple,” she finally shook our hands. “I’m Jade, and well, I’ve been a volunteer at this shelter since time immemorial, back in the prehistoric times.”

“Don’t say that, Jade! You look wonderful,” Lewis told her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t be so flattering, young man,” she chided him. “I appreciate all kinds of compliments for my age, but that’s not why we’re here. Well, tell me: if I’m not mistaken, and as your friend here has told me, you want to expand your family, right?”

Now she was looking intently at both of us. I nodded in response; at the same time, and by inertia, my right arm wrapped around my girlfriend’s waist, which made Emily start reaching out her little arms to come to me.

“Today is Seb’s birthday, and he’s been wanting to adopt a dog for quite some time,” my girlfriend explained.

“Oh, the adoption is a birthday gift!” Jade exclaimed, beginning to clap and approaching me quickly to give me a hug that I gladly accepted. “Happy birthday, dear! How old are you now?”

“Twenty-eight.”

“Oh, dear. If I could be that age again…”

I smiled at her response as Y/N handed me Emily, who had started babbling to come to me.

“A daddy’s girl, I see, huh?” Jade chimed in. Y/N was about to answer, but before she could even do so, the woman was already speaking again. “Well, since it’s your birthday, I think I have the perfect gift for you.”

Without saying anything more, the woman gestured for us to follow her, and we did. We passed through several areas with dogs of different ages roaming freely, who approached us to sniff and perhaps convince us to adopt them.

Lewis mentioned that some of them were related to Coco. I laughed at the supposed joke, which stopped being a joke when Jade confirmed it. Y/N lagged behind a few times because she stopped to play with the dogs that approached her, which were quite a few. Emily and I, however, kept a brisk pace, possibly eager to find out what the woman was talking about and why she was being so mysterious.

Finally, we arrived at a kind of room with less light than I expected and, to my surprise, full of what seemed to be soft little beds. On top of them, not only was there a dog lying down that seemed quite tired, but there were also several puppies nursing from her.

Jade indicated before we entered that we should remain silent.

“One of our dogs gave birth last night,” she told us. “I don’t want to give all her puppies up for adoption since I’d like at least one to stay with her, but considering that the puppies and you share a birthday, I’d be delighted if you adopted one of them.”

I opened my eyes wide and couldn’t say anything. Next to me, Y/N seemed to have reacted the same way I did.

Saying we were surprised would be an understatement.

“But… are you serious?” my girlfriend commented, still in surprise.

“Of course, dears!” the woman responded cheerfully. “The only issue, so to speak, though it’s not really a problem, is that it’ll take about a month and a half before you can take him home. You know, the separation process from the mother is crucial.”

“No problem, really. We’ll wait as long as it takes,” I finally spoke. “Besides, I think we have a break around that time, right?”

“Yes, about a month,” Lewis replied.

“We’ve already got our vacation destination, sunshine,” Y/N said to me, apparently much more excited than I was.

“Now, I need you to tell me something important: which one of them do you want to be your little girl’s new brother?”

Still holding Emily, Y/N and I carefully approached the puppies.

To our eyes, they all looked exactly the same. We couldn’t see their eyes, but I was almost convinced they would be similar to the colour of their fur, a light brown skin similar to beach sand. They were huddled together and didn’t seem to be doing anything other than trying to nurse for as long as possible.

“Do you know what breed or mix they are?” Y/N asked the lady with that characteristic curiosity of hers.

“If I remember correctly, their mother is a golden retriever and their father, a big labrador.”

My girlfriend thanked her, turning towards her and leaving Emily by herself for a moment. At that point, seemingly unaware that her mother wasn't watching her every move, the little one began to crawl towards the puppies. Instinctively, I quickly scooped her up in my arms to prevent her from doing so. However, she didn't seem to give up: she started kicking until, just like that, I brought her a little closer to the furry animals.

While Y/N and Lewis chatted with Jade, I remained seated on the floor next to my daughter, who seemed to have settled on a particular puppy. I tried shifting her gaze from side to side, attempting to get her to notice the rest of them, but it seemed the one farthest from its mother had caught her attention the most.

“I think Emily has chosen who’s going to be her adopted sibling, hasn’t she?” I remarked.

As soon as I said that, the three of them turned towards me, crouching down to my level. Emily was still engrossed with that little one and seemed to continue being so until we left.

“Have you chosen for Daddy, Emi?” Y/N asked, almost lying on the floor to join the game that Emily was playing with the one who seemed to be our new child. “Do you want this to be your new little brother? Or sister, of course.”

“He's a boy, actually,” Jade intervened. “And, if I’m honest and don't recall incorrectly, he’s the oldest of the whole litter.”

“Do you want to adopt this little one then, sunshine? Honestly, if you’re not convinced we can wait a bit…” Y/N whispered as if wanting it to be a secret between us.

“Clifford,” I suddenly blurted out.

They looked at me as if they had seen a ghost. Of course, I would act the same if someone dropped a name out of nowhere in a situation like this.

“I want to name him Clifford,” I clarified. “Remember the series about that big red dog you told me you watched with your sisters when they were little?” I asked my girlfriend, who nodded. “Well, if I remember correctly, you told me that the main character of the series, who was also the owner of the dog, was named Emily.”

“What’s that got to do with it, love?” she asked, curious. Did she really not know why I had suggested that name?

“Well, it just so happens that your daughter is named Emily and she seems to have chosen for us.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up and widened exaggeratedly. I swear I saw them get a little misty when she finally seemed to understand what I meant. Immediately, she stood up, took the baby in her arms, and began to talk to her while they played as if they were the only ones in the room.

“I guess I already have a birthday present, right?” I asked the redhead, standing beside her and giving her a kiss on the forehead and another to our daughter.

“Emily and Clifford…” she murmured. “I like it. I love it, actually.”

“Well, I hope that when we have the next baby, I can nail it in the same way.”

Jade, after the last sentence that I had just said, was left dumbfounded. Lewis, for his part, tried to turn a deaf ear and, instead, told me that they would be waiting for us at the entrance to do all the necessary paperwork, not without whispering to me in the least blatant way possible that he hoped that this would be my other birthday present.

Obviously, he deserved a well-deserved punch from Y/N.

“Are you already thinking about the next baby, love? Emily hasn’t even turned one yet!”

“I always think about the second baby, to be honest,” I replied. I was convinced, and I knew as well as she did that we had barely laid the foundations of our family. “A puppy brother for Emily is fine, but a human one would be a thousand times better. Don’t you think so?”

Y/N rolled her eyes and turned away, heading towards the shelter entrance. I quickly caught up with her, and her laughter filled my ears.

“If you're already thinking about our second baby, then we'll have to listen to Lewis and start practising tonight before dinner with my parents,” she suggested.

Her mischievous look infected me, and I couldn’t help but return it.

“As the birthday boy, I vote for squeezing in a free practice session before dinner with my parents tonight. How does that sound?”

“Whatever you wish, birthday boy,” she replied. “But I hope you come up with a good enough excuse for them not to suspect anything when we arrive late, and also when you ask if they can keep Emily overnight.”

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daymemebeliever · 2 months ago

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What we can Learn from Dave the Octopus

Theme 2: Villains (part two lol)

I was doing a rewatch of Penguins of Madagascar (the movie lol) the other day and thought, you know, there's a lot of relevant themes in this movie that can be applied to today's social issues. (Not all of these apply to Dave's character but a good amount of them do.)

The Dangers of Scapegoating

This is a big theme in the movie. The main premise for Dave, the antagonist, is seeking revenge on penguins (especially the Penguins) for his hardships. Instead of learning to embrace himself for who he is and/or working to change the system that worked against him, Dave instead blamed and targeted penguins. When he recounts his story, it is never penguins that sent him from zoo to zoo, but humans. You can see he directed all of his frustrations with societal cuteness standards (if you will lol) onto penguins. And once he thought he had defeated the Penguins, he simply wanted more "revenge" (by finding another scapegoat "puppies, kittens, pandas").

None of this solved his actual problem: the way society perceived him. It only caused harm to another group (penguins). As we have seen in past years, it is very common for groups to be scapegoated, or blamed, for tragedies they did not directly cause or play a role in. When this happens, the actual problem isn't solved, but instead it causes more division and perpetuates more harm. Realistically, it's easier to point the finger at one group (who are in fact innocent) than to fix overall problems. Thus, scapegoating is common but does not contribute to problem-solving. His goal was never to fix the problem but make others feel his pain.

The Harm of Stereotypes/Generalizations

Perhaps the most prevalent motif throughout the film is the perception of penguins as simply "cute and cuddly". In the very first scene, the Penguins are described as "helpless baby penguins" by a documentary crew. A young Skipper aims to challenge this perception by breaking away from the status quo of ONLY being cute and cuddly by "rejecting nature" and saving baby Private.

We can see this perception of penguins being helpless when they meet the North Wind. Corporal, though well-meaning, sweeps the Penguins up in a hug, even though Private is the only one that actually seems to be enjoying a hug. Thus, he makes the assumption that all penguins would be cuddly. Classified, in anger, calls the penguins "pathetic" which immediately gets a response from Skipper.

HOWEVER, Skipper seems to internalize this stereotype about penguins as he, in turn, underestimates Private's abilities. As the movie progresses, you can see that he does this more so out of brotherly/fatherly concern for Private. Still, he ends up placing internalized stereotypes onto Private, which he himself had fought (and continued to fight throughout the movie). He also expresses these feelings of perceived inferiority through his constant challenging of Classified.

Even Dave, at the beginning of his story, tried to fight the stereotype that octopi were "unlovable". Yet after being placed into this category, after being rejected so many times, he became a self-fulfilling prophecy and became vindicative.

In real life, women often face a similar struggle of being underestimated or viewed as overall less competent than their male counterparts. It is more common for women to be taken less seriously than men simply due to stereotypes. Many women can relate to the Penguins' struggle in this movie: being seen as less competent despite being very well-equipped to solve an issue they have experience in.

Autonomy of Marginalized Communities

I'll go more into this in the next section, but a major problem with the North Wind's plan in this movie is their overstepping of the Penguins in their shared goal. Once the Penguins learn that Dave is targeting ALL penguins, not just them, they immediately are focused on finding a way to defeat Dave.

But they are "kicked off the mission" by Classified, who tries to send them to a "safe house" in Madagascar. Their autonomy in this situation is taken away, which leads the Penguins to come up with their own plan in Shangai. It also contributes to the tension and conflict between the groups.

Since this mission impacted the Penguins directly, as they are penguins, they were more passionate about this situation. Private notes this when Classified leaves to "regroup". If Private would have listened to Classified and "regrouped", the penguins (including Skipper, Kowalski, and Rico) could have been captured by the exterminators before they returned to help.

In real life, when marginalized communities' autonomy is not respected or valued, it can lead to things like gentrification (which actually causes harm by raising property taxes to where the original residents cannot afford it).

Savior Complex vs. Actual Allyship

Despite not being penguins themselves (and being all larger/omnivorous animals), the North Wind sees themselves as the "professionals" or experts when it comes to saving the penguins (and any other "animals who can't help themselves"). Instead of listening to the Penguins or collaborating with them, Classified dismisses them. This leaves the North Wind with many blind spots in their perception of penguins and the actual nature of the problem they are aiming to solve (protecting penguins/stopping Dave).

In real life, there are already many organizations run by members of marginalized communities. When people outside of these groups try to start helping, without respecting the thoughts, opinions, or needs of members of these groups, this often does not turn out to be helpful and can even be harmful in some instances (ex. Autism Speaks who have historically been known to have very few Autistic members of their board). Without actively collaborating with members of marginalized communities, there is a danger of speaking over them. This can make the situation worse, rather than helping.

Sometimes amplifying voices or simply listening is the best form of allyship.

BUT when Classified listens to Private and does things "the penguin way", they all complete the mission successfully. Even then, they do not save the penguins but work with the penguins, who are saving themselves.

What are you thoughts on the lessons from this movie?

(Should I do a video essay on this? XD)

#penguins of madgascar #stream of consciousness #cinematic analysis #movie analysis #skipper #private #kowalski #rico #classified #north wind #the north wind #2024madaparty #2024madagascarparty #dave the octopus

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66sharkteeth · 9 months ago

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Weekly thoughts!

Hooboy, the big episode! First off, I think everyone knows by now that you probably shouldn't read these if you haven't read the latest episode, but I ESPECIALLY mean that this week! Talking about some way bigger than usual spoilers.

Phew, this was a big one, both from a writing and drawing perspective. I actually spent a full day on that last panel alone, but writing it took way longer than usual too. Going back and forth between Bell's speech and Jericho's backstory played perfectly like a movie in my head, but it was really hard to portray it as a comic and it was one of the few times I was struggling with the limitations of the format. I think I pulled it off though, since everyone seemed to follow along fine! So while it was probably just a neat scene to everyone else, I'm rather proud of that haha.

As for the actual contents of the episode, I'm also glad everything hit w/ the majority of the audience for the most part. I know a handful were confused about if that was Bell or Jericho who did that, but to those people, I remind you it's been loooong established Jericho can control his extensions (Bell, Charlie, and Claude. Remember, they all took injections of Jericho's blank space?). Also on that note, Bell does not have her own scion... Only Rex and Jericho do. Bell, Charlie and Claude all took injections of Jericho's blank space, thus get to borrow some of his power. I recommend re-reading ep 80 if you need a refresher.

I do consider this ep kind of a big reveal of Jericho's true colors. I mean, you guys have known he's the main villain for ages now, but this is the ep that reveals his "better world for blanks" act is kind of a façade and what he's really seeking is a worse world for humans. The fall of humans benefitting blanks is just kind of a bonus. I'm glad a few people caught onto this with the fact that one of the worst horrors he experienced was having his autonomy taken away from him, then he proceeds to do just that to Bell.

And speaking of Jericho's horrors- Before this season launched, I dropped a bunch of hints about upcoming things. One of them was that the most disturbing scene (in my opinion) was coming up. I was actually referring to what happened to Kallie. I'm not sure if it was as disturbing to everyone else (I totally get like if Claude's leg thing fucked people up more), but being evaporated into nothingness but not dying was an existential dread that really fucks me up haha. If it fucked even a couple of other people up, then I did my job.

I don't have too much else to say about the contents of the episode. It was so hard to bite my tongue for weeks as everyone predicted pretty much every character but Desmond was gonna get it. I'm sorry I don't have too much else to say about him right now given what happened, but I definitely will in the upcoming weeks.

I guess the only other note I have is I might as well address something that bugs me slightly- It's definitely a minority but there's a handful of people who seem done with the series because "too many things go wrong." To which... I'm not sure what to tell ya. I'm fine with critique and criticism to be clear, but honestly, this is one thing I'm actually really confident I'm good at balancing. I'm not sure where people are coming from with "nothing good ever happens in this series" when this season alone has had probably the cutest and fluffiest scenes. Rex has a canon girlfriend, he had his first kiss with her, Desmond was reunited with his sister and learned to accept himself, Lyss learned to move past her trauma and accept blanks, Rex was reunited with Shnee, Rex's scion turns out to be a puppy dog w/ a crush. I'm aware a lot of these got kind of crushed with this latest ep...but that's.. kind of. the. point??? That's how you write tragedy and impactful scenes??

I dunno, maybe this is personal to me because it's ALWAYS bugged me when someone tells me they think a show is bad because it's "too dark." Like no... It's not *bad* because it's too dark, you just don't like dark themes, and that's okay. I TOTALLY get if CoB has gotten too dark for some people- it's definitely hit some hard themes and subjects, but I don't like to accept that as a critique. It just means it's not for you and that's okay. There's a ton of other great comics that are more light-hearted! I think the TLDR of this is it will always annoy me when people say something is bad just because it's not their taste.

Now. That said... everyone is completely valid in their hate of Jericho. I, however, still love him.

#weekly thoughts

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moondaepuppy · 9 months ago

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actor au!Debut or die

(I love actor au's, so here's my brain rot)

(During the audition process) Ahyeon wanting to ask moondae for a hug after his audition scene with him (because he's a fan!!)but doesn't because he worries it would be weird/make moondae uncomfortable (meanwhile moondae knowing he wants to ask for something and waiting for him to bring it up~), then ahyeon regrets not asking because he thinks there's no way he's getting the role. But he does???!!!! Then at the script reading he finally asks, but for a handshake, but ends up admitting he wanted a hug, so moondae, mid hand-shake, pulls him in for a hug.

(Also: moondae watching ayheon's dance audition tape numerous times.)

Eugene getting banned from the snack table within the first days of filming

Everyone turning up to watch moondae's solo scenes, even if they're not scheduled on set

Having to do far too many takes of moondae's pop*con audition scene because people's laughter kept ruining the take and moondae kept breaking character (the judges reactions were real)

[Lee Sejin's vlog of the BTS of the pop*con filming going viral]

(the pop*con choreo was made by moondae, with some help from ahyeon. Sejin was there also but moondae threw him out of the rehearsal room)

Gunwoo having a cold exterior and seeming unapproachable but his personality is an actual puppy, while moondae is vice versa. The two get along well, the cast and crew joke that maybe they really did swap bodies

Eugene and Sejin pranking the rest of the cast

[Image of Shin Jaehyun with his arm on the back of park moondae's chair during the script read-through.]

The crew watching in awed silence during cheongryeo/moondae scenes (novel readers you know) because the intensity/tension and chemistry is insane. The two just feed off each other so well. Jaehyun also tends to improv a lot in the moment, in ways that may be surprising but work so good. It drives moondae crazy (the control freak haha), but he's always good at staying in character (aside from the one exception 🍿😂) . Jaehyun is usually pretty chill but around moondae his mischievous side is drawn out ~

(also Raebin watching with sparkle eyes, because he's a fanboy of Shin Jaehyun)

That time Kim Raebin (wearing a face mask) was lost and mistaken for an intern and ended up carrying around everyone's coffee because it felt too impolite to say no and then the timing to say something never came. (It wasn't until Eugene came looking for him that people realised.)

On-set, Eugene asking moondae and ahyeon to explain certain words/phrases in the script he's unfamiliar with. His scripts will have notes in their handwriting dotted throughout.

Eugene doodles in his script and others. (Bae sejin secretly likes this, and 'accidentally' leaves his script near Eugene sometimes haha)

That time ahyeon almost burnt down his van trying to make food (the crew left a sign on his stove: 'AHYEON. NO.')

During scenes where they're eating, the director would worry abt Eugene because he eats a lot (he has the same appetite as his character) (and they have to do multiple takes) but the crew quickly realised they needn't waste their energy. (Director: "Eugene, really, don't eat so much during the scene! You'll make yourself sick!" *Eugene pouting, the cast laughing* Lee Sejin: "There's no need to worry, Eugene's stomach is the endless abyss haha~" and then later→ director, stern, ignoring those puppy dog eyes: "Eugene! You have one pizza limit for this scene! I mean it! We can't go over budget!" *Eugene pouts, until the cast give him their leftovers* (this makes it into the final cut).

[clip from bts, director interview: "Lee Sejin is very professional while working, as long as you keep him away from moondae." (Cut to lee sejin who is laying on the floor, crying from laughing, while moondae is stood next to him. "Director, please change the script to me killing him." (Off-screen) "My answer is still no, moondae."]

#the more i write the more i want to make this into a fic #there will defo be more #debut or die #debut or die au #actor au

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keyh0use · 3 months ago

Note

If Barry and Rafe were ‘official’, do you think Barry would be met with the same reception at the yacht club as Sofia is this season, with Ruthie calling Rafe out for dating a pogue and also do you think Rafe would have the same reaction of denial? Thought to ask the Topper expert, although I think he kept completely quiet that entire scene

No!

Here's my two main reasons: 1. Sofia can blend in and Barry can't. She isn't a kook but she's surrounded by the wealthiest of them all day, it's something she envies (for good reason, not knocking her for wanting a more comfortable, safer life) and she can play the part well. I seriously doubt visiting parties even realise she doesn't belong. On the flip side I don't think there's a universe where Barry would conform (maybe self indulgent here but Rafe wouldn't expect or want him to) and he would stay true to himself, to his style and mannerisms regardless of social status, company or partner. Because of this the kooks would already know, there's probably not a single one of them who hasn't seen him at a house party dealing, who hasn't seen Rafe trailing after him like a lost, doped up puppy. They were whatever to eachother at Tanneyhill, drinking beer and gossiping in a corner. On the beach, sitting too close as Rafe's eyes droop. In a bar sharing appetizers. What difference would it make to the majority of the north side, or at least the younger generation, if the two of them are doing the same shit in the country club or some benefit their parents forced them them to attend? Besides the obvious in-your-face differences between kooks and Barry, that they would've grown accustomed to by the events of season 4, he's not approachable and the fact he's sold to many, many of them would be reasoning enough for them to keep his name out of their mouth. This segues into reason two but fits here as well, Rafe could actually be himself with Barry, which means he wouldn't have to pretend to be a good guy when someone says something he doesn't like.

2. I feel like their dynamic happened naturally, quietly. Very little discussion. Very personal to them, they just work. They don't do certain things that will upset the other because it's common sense (Barry) or because someone got pissy over the very thought of something (Rafe), whatever it was. Barry definitely claims him verbally; my bitch, my boy, stuff like that. Rafe would do the same, less crude out of fear, but he certainly wouldn't correct others who refer to Barry as his boyfriend. (Meaning Wheezie). So Ruthie has a problem, tries to pick on Rafe for dating a pogue, would Rafe be dumb enough to deny their relationship? I doubt it, at least not out of embarrassment. Who thinks of Barry as a pogue? Not me, not Rafe, do you? He's just a handsome guy who happens to live on the cut. I've always viewed him as other from the kooks and the pogues. If Rafe did downplay their relationship, I think it would be out of uncertainty, the word boyfriend throwing him off and he just spews whatever deflective word vomit that comes to mind, little thought to what he's actually saying. But I know one thing for sure two things for certain my friend, regardless of Rafe's reasoning for denial, there's not a chance in the fiery depths of hell Barry is laid up with him afterwards playing house. I don't know if it's more satisfying to imagine Barry walks out without word, giving Rafe the cold shoulder without an explanation, dodging every call, text, visit; goes all in on revenge, cause he already knows all the soft, mushy parts of Rafe so he can make sure it really hurts this time; or Barry confronts Rafe right there in front of his friends, watches realisation set in, followed by horror, what he's said and done to them, what he's losing...maybe he'll cry, or beg, or chase after someone like Barry in front of all the high class patrons.

Let's just hope Rafe is smarter than that and would rightly put ms. Ruth in her place.

It's not the question so I won't go into Rafe and Topper being surface level friends (they're getting closer, that's the problem), or how having Barry around is necessary for them both to keep their sanity. Instead I'll just say Topper is indifferent to Sofia because her presence doesn't offend or benefit him. I know Topper wonders why Rafe is so determined to put on an act, has questioned him about why he isn't hanging out with Barry, tries not to get too involved in his friends life but it's so difficult when it's just them in the sharing circle.

Anyways I loved this question! Thank you for asking <3

#also WHOOO is ms girl to be speaking on others while dressed like that #Ruthie needs a stylist.#I'm gonna be honest with y'all I haven't finished part 1 #okay now imagine Barrys face if Rafe introduced him as a friend LMAOO #they've never been friends #Topper expert took me out I literally had to shorten his section of this because I have many feelings #About his dynamic with Rafe AND with Barry #👨🏽‍🤝‍👨🏼#rafe x barry #rafebarry #rafe obx #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #barry obx #barry (obx)#taking my chances tagging this as Rafe Cameron #this is my house.#Ask

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crazyk-imagine · 1 year ago

Text

Veils, Weddings, and Best Friends Weddings

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Plus size!reader

Characters: Robert "Bob" Floyd, Plus size!reader, Natasha "Phoenix" Trace, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Penny Benjamin, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Warnings: Fluff, angst, friends to lovers, secret rendezvous, everyone rooting for Bob and reader to get together, small age gap between friends, age gap between lovers, plans gone wrong, reader talking about Bob being a kid, unnecessary drama but it's for the plot, Bob and Natasha make a rough comment to the other, Jake's only a vegetarian because of Ian in the movies, Bob's kinda a hoe for the reader, he's also an ass man in one scene 0-0

Word Count: 5,738

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You shake your head, watching your best friend stare at a happy couple, already knowing she wishes she could have that kind of love… which hurts you in more ways than one. You sigh to yourself knowing that you’re going to have to break her out of her gaze.

You reach behind you, untying your apron and lean onto her nudging her arm. "Don't do that sad puppy dog look, Tash. You’ll find your special someone. I know it."

She scoffs, removing her gaze from the couple to take your apron. "Yeah, where?"

"He's just around the corner."

"You go out on more dates than I do how do you not have a boyfriend."

You know what she’s doing, it’s her defense mechanism, one she’s been doing since you two were kids.

You shrug, going around her to grab your purse and coat. "All the ones I find are jerks."

"Bob isn’t."

"Please don't start this again," you plead.

"I'm just saying. If it was between the two of us, you would have a better chance at finding love than I would." She opens the register to make change before sending the couple off so she can talk to you.

You sigh, "Natasha, I love you. I do, but you have to realize that I am older. I would look like a cougar."

"You’re barely four years younger than me."

"And I'm still seven years older than him. I've seen him take baths. I even helped."

She furrows her brows. "Now?"

"No! When we were kids. He was the sweetest little boy ever."

"To you," she mutters.

"No, he-" ‘Huh.’ As you think about it, maybe you did have to resolve more than one of his tantrums when no one else could. "Maybe he wasn't but-"

"Don't you even try to argue and say he was an angel. He wasn't. He was absolutely terrible except for you and only you but you don’t want to admit it."

You roll your eyes. "I have to go to work, Natasha."

She sighs, "please don't leave mad."

"I'm not, I'm not… I promise… pain in my ass."

She chuckles, even though she knows you don’t want to admit any of it, but her baby brother was a menace as a kid, and he’d only ever be the most well behaved and calm down faster when you helped him.

Penny walks through the door, "oh is it time for you to leave already? I feel like I've barely gotten to see you."

You chuckle, grabbing your coat off the counter. "It is."

"Come for dinner."

"Oh. I couldn't." You always like having dinner with Natasha and Bob’s family but it gets awkward whenever they try to discuss your guy’s future wedding, last time you went to dinner that was all they talked about.

"I'll make you a special plate,” she adds to persuade you.

You pretend to think about it. "Leftovers?"

"Only small container."

Which means, take as much as you want. "Deal?" You’re scared about tonight’s dinner topic.

She pulls you in for a hug and kisses your cheeks. "Have a good day, darling."

"You too, Mrs. P."

"How many times do I have to tell you, call me Penny."

You can’t bring yourself to that… not when you need to break it off. "Bye ladies."

You walk out of the restaurant, reaching into your purse only to find it not clutched underneath your armpit. You could have sworn you brought it with you. You turn around, staring at the ground not wanting to fall on the slippery, wet concrete (today, your butt is still a little sore from two days ago).

"Woah! Woah!" A set of hands grips your waist tightly, keeping you upright.

You lift your head and find the reason why these hands feel familiar. "Oh, gosh. Sorry, Bob. Even as careful as I was, I still managed to slip."

He smiles at the joke, knowing you’re being this nice to him because his family is watching you from inside the restaurant (and he’s late for his shift, again but for a good reason). “It’s a good thing I was here to catch you." His hands haven’t moved from your waist.

"Bob," you lower your head, making sure he understands how he can’t make jokes like that, even if you did leave his room early before anyone was awake.

"What?” He shrugs, ignoring your look. “It was a harmless comment."

You scoff, "nothing with you is harmless."

"Ouch.” He places his right hand over his heart, “that hurts. No, it really does."

"Why are you here?"

"Your purse." He holds it out for you.

"Oh," you blink owlishly, taking the item from him. "Thank you!” You glance back at him with a raised brow. “You know if I didn't know any better, I would think you took it just talk to me like this in front of your family."

"You're over at the house all the time, I could just steal you away from Nat."

"How sneaky."

His lips tug upwards into a smirk. "Only for you."

A sigh escapes through your nose. "You cannot say things like that to me."

"Why not?" He asks, you always tell him this, but it doesn’t change anything that’s been going on between you two. “Tell me why I can’t say things like that to you and I’ll stop.”

“I have to go to work.”

His joking attitude falls, “hey, wait. I didn’t mean to overstep-”

“Bob, you are their prized baby boy. You’re the one who’s going to do greater and better things than they could have ever imagined. We wouldn’t-”

“Don’t finish that sentence because you’re wrong, you don’t know how my family talks about you when you’re not around.”

“I’ll see you at dinner, Bobby.”

He turns around watching you walk away as soon as your figure disappears his head falls back, staring up at the gray clouds, wondering how things can change for you to realize how much his family sees you as one of their own.

If they could have, they would have adopted you, so they don’t have to call you the “adopted daughter”. But then again, they do keep dropping hints about him asking you a certain question so they can officially call you their favorite daughter-in-law (including the in-laws themselves).

He turns around and heads into the restaurant, ready to start his shift.

Natasha doesn’t say anything but feels she should do something to help you realize how much in love her brother is with you… maybe after she helps the incredibly handsome blond man, she sees in the window who then enters the restaurant and sits down with his friend.

There are a few complaints about how the food doesn’t taste the same as it normally does, which makes sense since this morning’s talk brought down his happy mood.

He thought maybe you left your purse because you wanted to have something more with him.

Your day didn’t go any better, the only new thing that happened involves your coworker and her setting you up on a blind date knowing today is one of the three days you show up with a side for dinner at Natasha’s family home. You tried to tell her to cancel it, but she didn’t want to listen.

“Why do you want me to cancel it so badly? Is it because that guy who drops you off lunch finally wised up and confessed?” Lucy asks, with a wide smile.

You tilt your head, “who- do you mean Bob?”

She nods, “yes, yes! The cutie with the glasses. He’s always so sweet when he asks where you are? I wish my boyfriend would describe me the way he does about you.”

“How does he-” Your guy’s shared boss, Ed (short for Edward) interrupts, informing you two to get back to work.

Lucy grabs your arm as you two rush back to your workstations. “So, what I’m hearing is, he can’t man up and ask you out and you’re, in fact, single.”

You sigh, knowing she’s won.

“Perfect,” she pauses.

“What? Why did you go quiet all of a sudden?”

“Now, I don’t know if you should go on this date. The guy I chose for you has been known to be a… player but- but I see the look on your face, please let me finish. But he's changed. Or maybe if you want, he can help you. Oh, yes. I’m brilliant. I’ll text him and tell him we have a plan to get two lovebirds together.”

“You forget Bob and I aren’t lovebirds.” You feel dirty saying that, almost like you’re lying.

“Not yet.”

You regret talking to her about these kinds of things now.

As you walk to Lucy’s car, you text Natasha.

Brat Tamer

‘Hey, can’t stay for dinner but I have a side ready. I’ll drop it off, make sure someone cab grab it' 6:02pm Sent Read

“Okay, where to?”

“Your house first. I always have a spare party outfit in my car.”

“How often do you go out?”

“When was the office new year’s party?”

“Same day as the Christmas party?”

“And that was?”

“First Saturday of December.”

“That’s how long I’ve had them in my car.”

“Lucy,” you chuckle.

“What?”

“You cannot tell me that you’ve left dirty clothes in your car for the last six and a half months?!”

“Don’t worry. I got them dry cleaned a few days after. I just never brought them upstairs to put in my closet. The elevator at my apartment complex is always broken and I have to walk up four flights of stairs.”

You giggle, “okay, Luc. Whatever you say.”

“Peter will be at the restaurant in a booth at seven which gives me enough time to throw something together while you do your makeup.”

“I mean, I guess.”

“This is going to be fun.”

Nat the Brat

‘Got it… what color lipstick goes with the black dress I found at the mall a few years ago?’ 6:13pm Sent Read

You reread the text and find yourself smiling.

Brat Tamer

‘Your date better be with the one you were drooling over during your story. I can’t wait to meet him. One of your two pink lipsticks, don’t want to scare him away with a dark color ;)’ 6:15pm Sent Read

“Okay, it’s time to doll you up.”

“What Era are we obsessed with today that were throwing in words people don’t use often?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know. “Doll you up” just felt right.”

Neither of you say anything as she picks out your outfit and you’re left to wander into the bathroom and finish your makeup.

Her quietness does concern you seeing as she’s normally so talkative, but you don’t put too much thought into it as you search for your favorite lipstick.

You hadn’t realized she was texting Natasha to figure out what would make Bob tick and push himself into asking you out- officially.

If only you hadn’t introduced the two of them when you invited Natasha as your plus one to your work barbecue a couple of years ago.

“I found it. Come out here.”

“But you’re there.”

“Oh.” She sighs, “I’ll turn around.”

You give her the okay to turn around and her jaw drops. “Oh, I am a miracle worker.”

“You’re too cocky for your own good.”

“That’s why I’m using my good on you,” she adds a wide smile.

You roll your eyes, “I don’t buy it.”

“Can you take it to their door?”

“I’m a stranger. Why would they accept a meal from me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why can’t you cooperate with me?”

“I am,” Lucy argues.

“No, you’re not.”

“Well then you should have thought about this beforehand.”

“I did. You’re the one who wouldn’t stop here first.”

She shrugs. “Either you drop it off or they don’t get their special “adopted daughter” side dish.”

You groan, unbuckling your seatbelt. “I hate you.”

“Not after tonight you won’t.”

As soon as you stepped out of the car, she texted Natasha.

You knock on the door, waiting for her to answer. Your eyes slightly widen seeing- “Bob. Hey.”

“I thought you couldn’t make it tonight?”

“That’s true.”

“But you’re here.”

“I just came to drop off this,” you hold the dish pan in front of him.

He leans down to smell it. “Smells like my favorite.”

You roll your eyes, “you say that about everything I make.”

“And it’s true. But-uh- why are you dressed up?”

“My coworker is setting me up on a blind date.”

“Really?” His eye glaze over with annoyance, you think.

“I tried to-”

“Have fun on your date.” And he slams the door in your face.

You scoff and walk back to the car.

“So, what happened?”

You yank the seatbelt out of its place and click it into place with a huff. “How do you think?”

She says nothing and starts the car. “What if I told you that Peter is actually engaged, and I lied so that Bob would ask you out?”

“What?” You turn to her, “what the hell do you mean?”

“Well- we just-”

“You and Natasha planned this? Is she even home right now?”

“She's on a date, I swear she is. But we just- we’re so tired of you being sad and not admitting your feelings-”

“I’m getting out.”

“What? No.” She tries to grab you but you’re already out. “Come on, get back in the car.”

“No.”

“I’m sorry, please just get inside the car.”

“Why?”

“We’re gonna go hangout.”

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

“Because I’m a nice person.”

You roll your eyes and get back in the car. “It’s going to be a calm night. We’re going out to dinner and then maybe somewhere for dessert.”

You two wind up having a really good time and she helped get your mind off the fact that Bob was so annoyed, for no reason.

You wake up to find two missed calls from Natasha along with a few texts. You roll over, not responding; still upset over what she and Lucy planned.

You didn’t talk to her or Bob for a week and it was miserable, for everyone.

No one in the family knew what had happened and didn’t know how to help, all they knew was that their children were depressed, and you were the obvious solution.

Penny knocks on your door when you have barely started to wind down after your long day.

You open the door, expecting it to potentially be your best friend or Lucy and are surprised. “Mrs. P?”

“Can I come in?”

You nod and open the door wider, “what are you- shouldn’t you be at home getting dinner ready? I mean, I’m not- why- uh-” You scratch your head. “Why are you here?”

“My children are depressed.”

“I’m sorry to hear that-”

“You haven’t been around the house in a week, and I know what something’s wrong. What did they do? Maybe I can talk to them and make it better.”

You sigh and sit beside her on the couch. “It’s nothing that can’t be resolved, I just needed Nat to learn her lesson and she’s got her own life to live anyway. I mean, she’s started college and is doing something with her life, something that’s not what’s expected of her… no offense.”

She shrugs, “I understand but you should know she’s lonely because she has no one to talk to. She wants to be able to talk to you again.”

You take a deep breath, “I’ll stop by tonight.”

She claps her hands before pulling you in for a hug.

“Good, good. Everyone will be happy.”

“I don’t think it’s going to change much.”

“My little Bobby will be especially happy.”

You lean against the door, holding onto the doorknob. “What makes you say that?”

“A mother knows these things.” And with that, she left you with your thoughts.

You walk down the familiar walkway, listening to the bustle of the family moving about the house. You smile and knock on the door, not knowing if it’s unlocked or not.

One of the cousins, Bradley, opens the door.

“Well, look who came crawling back. Finally decided to drop the schmuck and find someone better. Maybe someone with a mustache,” he wipes his hand down his face, making sure to pay extra attention to his facial hair.

You roll your eyes, “move over, weirdo.”

“Hey,” he closes the door. Don’t make me tell the family about the one time-”

You jam your elbow into his side when you see your best friend making her way over to you.

She wraps her arms around you, ignoring her cousin as he pleads for someone to get help and that he’s dying. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, “don’t be. I’m just sorry it took me so long to come back.”

“No, I get it. It’s the same reason why I’m so scared to tell everyone about Jake.”

“You know once they meet him, they’ll adopt him, right?”

“What makes you say that?”

“I just know.” You pull her off to the side, “tell me about him.”

Your friend lowers her head, trying to hide her smile.

Neither of you notice when Bob manages to pull away from the aunts, he watches you two enjoying your conversation and realizes how much he screwed up and misses you.

Bradley pats his shoulder, “you gonna ask her?”

“I’m not asking anyone anything. Go brush your mustache somewhere else.”

“Hey, don’t hate on the ‘stache.”

Penny shouts for everyone and dinner starts with a slight twist; usually you and Natasha are seated by one another, but it seems that the family has other plans because now you and Bob are seated next to each other.

Everyone talks as if your absence didn’t happen, which was a relief on your part; you were scared they were going to bring it up.

After dinner everyone scattered and went to do whatever they wanted to.

You search for Natasha only to get a text from her saying she’s gone to hang out with Jake.

You scoff and shake your head as you lean against her doorway only to be frightened when you’re pulled back into another, yet familiar room. You turn around and stare at him.

“I wanted to say… sorry, you know about the other night.”

"You pulled me in here to apologize?"

He nods.

"What have you done with the real Bob?"

He rolls his eyes and sits down at his desk. "Shut up."

You stare at him with a soft smile. "Why did you really pull me in here?"

"I already told you."

You cross your arms, "you forget that I've known since you were a kid. I know when you're lying."

"I hate it when you do that," he huffs.

You furrow your brows, "do what?"

"Talk about me like I'm still a kid. I'm an adult, I have been. You know it. I mean," his chest bounces as he quickly chuckles to himself. "We've done things only adults would do."

Your eyes widen.

"Don't look at me like that."

"I'm giving you the most appropriate look after that comment, like you've gone insane." You glance back at the door.

"Don't worry. No one's going to come in. You're the only afterhours guest I've had."

"Somehow that doesn't comfort me."

He shrugs, "I don't know what to tell you then."

A piece of paper catches your eye. "What's that?"

"Nothing," he mumbles, moving it off the side.

"Is that-"

"It's nothing."

"It's not nothing," you tell him with a smile. "Is it the flyer you were talking about?"

He avoids making eye contact. "No."

You chuckle and shake his shoulders, "don't lie. It is." You reach for it, only for him to stop you. "Am I not allowed to see it?"

"It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

"I- it's not ready."

"You think I'm going to care if it's done or not."

He doesn't say anything.

"Fine, don't let me see it."

He rolls his eyes, knowing exactly what you're doing. He pulls it out from under his pile of miscellaneous items.

You stare at it for a while, scaring him because he thinks you don’t like it. You shake your head and throw your arms around him.

He’s thrown off, unsure of what to do.

You adjust yourself and keep an arm wrapped around his shoulders, keeping him close. “This is so good. I can’t believe you did this. Have you shown anyone else?”

He shakes his head, “why would I do that?”

“Because this is amazing, and your family needs to know.”

“You’re bad for me,” he mumbles, turning his head further into your chest, enjoying the warmth coming from you.

“How can you say that?”

He lifts his head, the corner of his lips quirked upwards, he narrows his gaze on you.

You know you should get up and leave, most of his family are still downstairs and soon Natasha will be coming home (if she doesn’t spend the night with her boyfriend). “I should go,” you whisper.

He nods, leaning in. “Then go.”

You don’t make a move to leave until he’s less than an inch away from you.

His breath is warm against your lips as he whispers to you. “I won’t do anything unless you want me to.”

You lean in and kiss him as if he’s the cure, drinking all that he has to offer and he’s not going to stop you.

The chair creaks as you try to change your position.

“I don’t the chair can handle our weight,” you mumble against his lips.

“You’re right.”

You squeal as he lifts you, holding onto his neck for dear life as you push your chest against his. “What are you doing?”

“We’re moving this to a different space that can handle what I’m going to do to you.”

You don’t comment on that, suddenly feeling hotter. You land face first on the bed, giving Bob a beautiful view of your backside.

He takes a step closer, “god, I love this ass,” he mumbles against the side of your neck as he smacks it.

You open your mouth, but no sounds come out of you.

He flips you over and stares down at you causing you to feel self-conscious, something he notices right away.

“Hey,” he whispers. “Are you okay? We don’t need to do anything else if you don’t want to.”

You shake your head, “I’m fine.”

“You know I don’t like when you tell me “you’re fine”. It doesn’t make me think you’re really fine.”

You grab his cheeks and pull him close, “I’m good. I want this. I want you, Robert.”

He nearly shudders. “Oh, you’re in for it now. You know exactly what that does to me.”

You nod your head, giggling to yourself. “Why do you think I said it?”

After you saw him slowly making his way down your body, all you’ve felt is pure bliss.

And then it wasn’t, you don’t remember how it happened.

But suddenly you’re running around the room looking for your clothes. “You’re such an idiot,” you hiss in his direction while pulling up your pants.

“What?”

“Where the hell do you get off asking about some guy I don’t even remember. You’re not my boyfriend.”

Silence fills the room as you put on your shirt. You feel bad, you do; you shouldn’t have said that… even if it is true.

“You’re right I’m not.”

“I’m s-”

“I think it’s time I take up my parents offer on finding me a wife.”

Why does that comment feel like such a stab to your heart? “I hope you have fun with that then.” You grab your jacket and purse, shoes in one hand, the other opening his door. You lean against the door, covering your mouth so no one hears your cries.

You walk down the stairs and tiptoe out the door, just in time to see your best friend and her boyfriend. You walk ahead to your car, hoping she doesn't notice you're there.

As soon as you get yourself settled, the front door opens and he runs out, searching for you.

She gets out of the Jake's Tahoe, just in time to see her brother searching around like a mad man for God knows what. She can't tell because Jake just pulled away from the sidewalk and is blocking your car. "What is it?"

"I really messed up."

"What did you do?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why not? It can't be that bad." She squints, letting her eyes adjust to the dark and faint light outlining his figure. "Right?"

His head drops.

"What happened?"

"I," he quiets down, unsure of how to tell her that he's more of an idiot than they realized. "I messed up and I don't think I can fix it."

"Does it involve a person?"

He nods. "This is not how I wanted it to go."

"Let's go inside so you can explain to me what happened."

The two sneak back inside, not wanting anyone to know where they were or ask questions.

"You what?" She paces around his room. "No wonder it smells like sex in here. Oh, wait a minute. Is that why she sneaks out of my room so much?"

He removes his glasses, wiping them off and doesn't do much to hide his smirk.

“You’re a pig.”

“At least I’m not a whore who hides.”

She punches his arm, “stop deflecting the question.”

He flops back onto his bed. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“I was doing the one thing no brother should.”

“Yeah, canoodling my best friend, we’re past that. Honestly,” she lays down beside him. “I’m conflicted. On one hand, I’m happy you two finally got together but I’m also grossed out because you’re my brother.”

He chuckles, “yeah, I know. Thing is…”

“What?”

“We’re not actually… together.”

She pushes herself up. “You mean to tell me that you two were just,” she grimaces at the thought. “Gross.”

“I was trying to tell her but then I messed up.”

“What’d you do?”

“I brought up the guy she went on a date with and how I’d take up mom and dad’s help on finding a wife- Ow! Ow!” He raises his hands to defend himself. “What are you doing?”

“Smacking the stupid out of you.” She groans, rubbing a hand across her face. “You do realize that she never went on a date with that guy.”

He turns his head, staring at her with furrowed brows. “What are you saying?”

“Lucy and I made that up, so you’d get jealous and confess.”

“She never-”

“No,” she shakes her head.

The next few days are a little awkward for Bob; you ignore him and mainly stick to Natasha.

“I think you should talk to him,” she tells you as you look up something on your computer.

“No.”

“I think it’d be good for you.”

“And I think it’d be good if I never talk to him again.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” you nod. “He was such a jerk, and I don’t want to deal with anymore jerks in my life.”

“Look, I get it. I do but,” she wraps her arms around your shoulders. “I need you two be okay when Jake comes over.”

You gasp, “he’s finally coming to dinner.”

She nods, “tonight, which is why you and Bob are going to talk.”

“No.”

She shrugs and opens the door, forcing him into the room. “Talk.” She slams the door shut, holding the handle tightly.

You scoff, slamming your computer shut. “Go away.”

He shakes his head, “not until you hear what I have to say.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

“Please.”

You push yourself off the bed and point your finger at him as you talk. “You acted like a jealous boyfriend over a date I did not go on. And when I pointed out that you’re not, you told me that you’ll take your parents’ advice on finding a wife. What was I supposed to do? Lay back down so we could go for another round. No! You acted like a jerk, and I wasn’t going to stick around to see what else you’d say.”

He nods, slowly reaching for you; his warm hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you closer. “I know and I’m sorry. I overstepped and I- it’s- I don’t want you to… date anyone else.”

Your eyes glance between him and his hand.

“I don’t want to find someone else to be my wife because,” he groans, not knowing how you’ll react. “I want you.” He takes a step closer, leaving a mere few inches between you two. “I don’t think I could date or marry anyone else and not think of you.”

You gulp, “what about-”

He shakes his head and cups your cheek, resting his forehead on yours. “I broke up with her because she wasn’t the one person I dream about, you know. The only one who could stop me from having a tantrum and read to me when everyone else was too busy.”

You chuckle and hiccup, unable to stop the tears from flowing. “How do I know you’re not just saying this to make things right between us?”

“Have you ever seen me be this sweet to anyone else?”

You shake your head.

“Exactly. You’re the only one that I want, and I will fight anyone who tries to take you from me.”

You shake your head, smiling at his words and take a step forward, leaning into him, resting your forehead on his chest.

The door creaks open, “have you two made up?”

Neither of you respond.

“Good, now I don’t have to worry about it being awkward anymore. Thank God.” She groans.

“What?” Bob asks.

“Now, I have to pray neither of you are doing it.”

“Shut up,” you tell her, it comes out mumbled since you didn’t raise your head.

Penny calls you two down for dinner.

You take a couple extra minutes to pull yourself together. “Do I look okay?”

They assure you that you do and the three of you walk downstairs.

“Well, don’t you three look happy. Now, where’s your boyfriend?” Pete stares his daughter down.

All eyes land on Natasha, who shrinks under their gaze.

“He’s-” The doorbell rings. “Here,” she runs to the door.

You and Bob take a seat, waiting for everyone else to join.

The aunts ask him many questions about himself, what he does, how they met, etc.

But it got interesting when he told them he’s a vegetarian.

You snort and cover your face when everyone turns to you. “Sorry, sorry. I just- I thought of a really funny joke earlier… about- it doesn’t matter.”

Dinner officially begins, everyone reaches to grab a dish or a utensil, but you can’t get the one thing you want because it’s being passed around.

Bob notices and knows it’s hard to say something when everyone else is being so loud. “Hey!” He shouts.

The whole family stops and turns to him.

“Pass me that dish.”

You want to squirm in your seat but find yourself unable to when he starts scooping some of your favorite onto your plate.

He passes the dish back to his father.

You stare at your plate, unsure if that was a good thing for him to do, you two barely started talking again.

The family has barely begun to return to their previous conversations when you glance at him from the corner of your eye. “Thank you.”

He shrugs, “it was nothing.”

Natasha shakes her head.

Jake leans down and whispers into her ear, “is there something going there?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

Penny and Pete noticed how close you two were tonight, but don’t comment on it, knowing two kids in love won’t want to talk to- “two old people? Really, Pete?”

“What? You make it seem like I said a bad thing.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I won’t tell, if you don’t,” you tell Jake.

He nods, “got it.”

You sneak into Bob’s room as he sneaks into Natasha’s room. “I wasn’t expecting you here.”

You shrug, “yeah, well, when an adorable idiot confesses his feelings, you tend to want to talk spend time with him.”

He huffs, “I’m an idiot, huh.”

“Did you miss the part where I said you were adorable?”

“No,” he places his hands against your waist and pulls you closer. “I just wanted to hear you say it again.”

You stare at him through your lashes, leaving no visible emotion on your face. “Really?”

“Don’t give me that look.”

“I’m going to-”

He cuts you off with a kiss. “Is there anything I can do to get you to stop?”

You smile as your curl your arms around his shoulders, “maybe.”

After Natasha and Jake’s wedding, everything seemed to calm down for them until someone (“never make fun of the ‘stache”) ratted you two out and it was your guys’ turn.

A few months after you two had been married it was time to announce your news.

“I’m pregnant!” You’ve never been given as many hugs as you did that afternoon.

“Wow, wow,” Jake says, holding you at arm’s length, looking as if he’s scared to hug you.

You narrow your eyes to him. “What’d you do?”

“Me? Nothing.”

“I’m pregnant!”

Penny embraces her daughter faster than you’ve ever seen.

“This feels like a Spartacus moment,” you comment.

Bob shakes his head. “You’ve gotten weirder since becoming pregnant.”

“Yeah, because your genes are inside me creating a life.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t think that’s it.”

“Whatever.”

“I hope they become as close as you two are.”

You wipe your cheeks, sniffling, “I knew I liked you for a reason, Jake.”

Sometime after that, you two go into labor and within a few hours your baby boy is born before your niece.

“He’s so cute,” you whisper, staring at your other favorite person.

Your husband nods, “he is.”

“I can’t believe we made him.”

“I know.”

“I’m telling Nat you cried.”

“Don’t you dare.”

You chuckle and lean your head against his shoulder, enjoying (the fact that you didn’t feel a thing) the newfound warmth knowing what the future is going to consist of.

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@blueoorchid

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ryverbind · 11 months ago

Text

Faceless Fixation (Sal Fisher): Beg For It [21]

TW: smut :P

_______________

dacnorthxx started following you.

sallysusedtoiletpaper: VI WHO IS THIS WHO IS NORTH WHY IS THIS INTERACTION GIVING ME LIFE??? t0ddles2: @sallysusedtoiletpaper frontman of dark autumn complex sallysusedtoiletpaper: @t0ddles2 oh omg ok... I've never heard of them are they any good?? ashypoops: I haven't heard of them either. What genre? More importantly DOES VI HAVE HER VERY FIRST SHIP toodswithoutthed: @ashypoops I WAS ABOUT TO ASK BC THE CHEMISTRY!?!? they're obsessed w each other... I went stalk his profile. Ship name options: northlence, violeth... t0ddles2: they're rock/metal. even if u don't like the genre, they're worth a listen sallysusedtoiletpaper: WORD I just followed him and their band account >:3 also @toodswithoutthed I'm personally a fan of violeth. I'm linking this shit in the faces fan discord ashypoops: THERE'S A FAN DISCORD??? can u send me an invite pooks🥺 sallysusedtoiletpaper: @ashypoops ofc😘 sallysusedtoiletpaper: OMFG SOMEONE BEAT ME TO THE CHAT EVERYONE KNOWS NOOOOOO

———

Yea, so I lost my job. Big shocker.

Once my boss found out that I dipped mid-shift, the text was typed out and sent by the evening.

In any other situation, I'd be fucked. Indefinitely. Completely broke and flailing to get a new job. In fact, that was my first thought. As soon as I got the text, I clicked onto my bank account to check how much I'd have to live off of until I found a new job--

--only to find out that I had over $2,000 just sitting around, which was such a nice surprise. I don't think I've ever had so much money to my name before in my entire life. And all the transactions were straight from all my streaming apps. All within the past two weeks since being back in LA.

To say the least, losing my job couldn't have happened at a better time. Now, I can put my focus into something I actually enjoy doing.

But first, a trip to Nockfell, which is proving to be more chaotic by the second.

"Todd, dude, there's a chemistry to this thing, okay? It's a ritual," Larry says, all seriousness and business face as he stares back into Todd's uninterested gaze. "I can't fly without it."

Todd blinks, a flash of frustrated disappointment crossing over his features. "You're not taking an edible before the flight, Lartholomew."

Ash had a ticket ready for me before she even got to LA yesterday. Her entire mastermind plan was to abduct me whether I liked it or not-- not that I would've said no to begin with. And besides, having her at the apartment to help me pack last minute made pre-flight stress non-existent.

Travis is camping out at my apartment. He was more than happy to kick me out of my own house, claiming that my bed is comfiest anyway. Regardless, he said he had no desire to return to Nockfell anyway. And dad was just excited for me to go visit considering how much I've complained about missing the little town over all these years.

Sal and I haven't spoken since his last commanding text to me. Right before his very sudden face reveal. He's caught in an almost petrifying silence-- has been since he put his prosthetic back on. I, on the other hand, very much resemble a little puppy whimpering and begging at his feet. Metaphorically, of course. I wouldn't dare to physically exploit my internal thoughts.

The really sickening truth is that I'm so desperate to see his face again that I'd trip him down a flight of stairs just to recreate yesterday's scene.

Just kidding. I don't mean that. I definitely don't.

"All our seats are kind of screwed up, so I have no idea where you're sitting, sugar." Ash pokes my cheek, her chin in her palm and elbow propped on the armrest of her seat. "I bought them kind of last minute so I took whatever they had available."

A little smile tips my lips as I turn my attention away from the grumpy smurf and focus on my stunning best friend. Her viridian irises glow with renewed joy and energy like our plans check off so many bullet points on her bucket list. "That's okay," I reply, tilting my head. "At least we actually have seats, right?"

Ash grins, her maroon shaded lips accentuating the light freckles along the bridge of her nose. "See?" she chirps, arm winding through mine to pull me closer. "You get it. When do you not get it?"

Our plane calls for us to board, and so begins the toxic, anxiety-inducing split-up of the century. I lose all The Faces somewhere in the crowded line that gathers at our gate in just a matter of seconds. That's okay though, I'll probably end up sitting with some old lady that smells like an odd mixture of peonies, Dial soap, and Lysol. You know, a funeral home and two colds away from death. So long as she's nice, I'll catch her dentures when they fall out of her gaping mouth as she naps.

Anything for MawMaw.

I hobble my way into the plane, brain set on finding my seat before stressing about all other one hundred and fifty two things I have to worry about later. People are everywhere and it's, expectedly, a huge plane. Three rows-- two seaters against each wall and a row of three seats down the middle. Sickening, really. Social anxiety's worst enemy is looking for means of escape only to be met by even more people.

I block everyone out as best as I can, pretending that the people I bump into are just very dense pieces of furniture. Or, actually, even better-- a bunch of really buff kitties. Yep, just passing through a horde of Maine Coon's and Munchkin's.

I spot row F, my pupils zeroing in on the letter like a scope on a gun. Target acquired.

The majestic way I veer around what my mind imagines is a really tall Siamese and their spouse, a yellow Persian, is something that the directors of The Matrix are pissed that they couldn't come up with. I swing my foot around a figurative pair of paws and reach my free hand out to grip onto my seat-- F20. That's right bitches, I did it.

I swing my suitcase up, somehow managing to actually get it into the overhead compartment. I give it a good shove with both of my hands and a grunt, then pull the backpack off my shoulders to keep it at my feet when I sit down.

But now that I've stopped, cats are pushing past me and it's so aggressive and rushed that they suddenly aren't sweet, fluffy kitties anymore. They're people again and I'm starting to get dragged away from my seat by this sea of shared distress.

Nimble fingers latch onto my wrist from the seat beside mine-- the seat against the window. The hand tightens around me, giving my body a good yank forward. I use the aided force to weave my way around a few more people up until the hand pulls me into my seat.

I huff out a breath, pushing my hair out of the eyeholes of my mask. And begrudgingly, I turn my head to meet bright cerulean hair.

Sal isn't looking at me, he's facing the window. His entire stature gives off a mixture of unbothered and ashamed. He shouldn't feel that second one-- never. Granted, he shouldn't feel angry half as much as he does but that's besides the point.

Ever since it happened, I could tell that the abrupt exposure of his face has been heavily weighing on him. I don't owe this man a single thing-- he's been awful to me in so many ways, but I give credit where credit is due. Not only did he own up and apologize to me yesterday, he helped me to my seat... and he is handsome. Regardless of how he views himself.

He's my biggest enemy and I, his. But if I plan on getting fucked during my visit to Nockfell, I have to give him the Beating of Truth.

"So," I mumble, chewing on the inside of my cheek. If you couldn't tell, I'm absolutely forcing myself to do this even though it's the last thing I want to do. "How are we working around Ash, Larry, and Todd when we get to Nockfell?"

Sal's head tips up a bit, like he's wondering to himself if I actually just spoke to him. Then his head pivots sideways so that he can side-eye me.

"What?" He asks, voice genuinely shocked and confused. It makes my heart stutter a bit. Any time he speaks in a tone that isn't aggressive, it completely reboots my system.

"How are we going to follow through with this arrangement?" I try again, simplifying it into Sal terms. He has a wide vocabulary range; maybe using bigger words will snap some sense into him. For added effect, I lean onto the armrest separating him and I, trying to show that he doesn't repulse me or anything of the sort.

Sal doesn't move away, instead, he adjusts his body so that he can address me. Fully turns his prosthetic face to me and settles into his seat. I didn't realize how tense he was when I first sat down, but watching him relax now shows me how much my simple mention of our agreement settled his mental turmoil.

He's quiet for a moment, eyes dancing across my mask and body before his gaze meets mine again. "You still want to?" he finally decides to ask, eyebrows lifting beneath his prosthetic.

"Yea," I snort, scrunching my nose up as if his question is ridiculous. "Why wouldn't I?"

Okay, stupid question. I know the answer and the words came out before I could stop them. In more ways than others, that was a genuine response though. I can't accept that Sal would be so put off by his own appearance because I truly think it's so lovely. I have to remember though that not everyone sees themselves the way I see them though.

Sal's brows bunch together again, his eyes narrowing. "Stupid fucking question," he echoes my own thoughts, voice even and void of tone. Whoopsie.

I roll my own eyes, sighing. "Well, to settle the whole debacle," I start, aiming to just bite the bullet and extinguish the awkwardness and misplaced fear vibrating between us. "I think you're quite the catch."

Friendly banter is weird. Borderline uncomfortable, but... not quite. Just so that I'm ready to get this over with but I'd be prepared for it to happen again.

A nasally snort leaves Sal and he rotates his head so that he's facing the pair of seats in front of us.

"So," he prods, ignoring my statement. "North?"

Mission success. I know he'll never admit it and he doesn't need to, but I think he appreciates the compliment.

"What's it to you?" I counter, adjusting my position in turn. I sit criss-cross applesauce in my seat, making sure my feet don't touch Sal because God forbid. "You still get to fuck me."

"Not much," he says lowly, hand moving to ruffle up his fringe. There's that dagger tattoo again. And then his head tilts just a bit, haunting sapphire blue piercing straight through my soul like the weapon etched onto his skin. "But you're mine. North can't give you even an ounce of what I can."

Fuzzy fingers, a pounding heart, and the worst case of cold sweats possible dominates my body for the rest of the flight. My brain replays that statement over and over again, plaguing me with recurring physical reactions like I've just heard it in real life again. I wish he hadn't said anything at all if it was going to leave me like this.

Neither of us said another word. The only sound between the two of us was the constant cracking of my knuckles accompanied by me putting my feet on the ground-- then sitting criss-cross again-- then having to readjust again and again and again. He left me quite literally restless and I'm sure he's relishing in just the knowledge of it.

Landing in Nockfell was a quick divergence from bubbly hearted affliction in my being. A good distraction from Sal.

Perpetual autumn. Nockfell never gets too hot or cold. The air is always misty, the sky always grey and cloudy. Tall, ever-growing trees dominate both night and day, stealing all the light from the sun and hiding it in their leafy treetops. Nockfell houses the kind of atmosphere that I've dreamt of returning to for years now; the gentle eeriness and chill that I've longed to bask in ever since I left.

We step out of the airport and into the small parking lot where a suspiciously blue haired man is waving at us with a big, dad-like grin on his face. Not a question in my mind. That's Sal's dad-- the cropped, receding cerulean hair was the first obvious sign but as we grow closer, his bright azure eyes are the second giveaway.

"Wassup, daddio!" Larry exclaims, wrapping Sal's father up in a huge bear hug (which is so Emo Buff Daddy of him). I nearly forgot that Sal's dad, who I now know as Henry, is also Larry's step-dad. Crazy.

"Not much, big guy!" Henry chuckles, rubbing Larry's back affectionately once the hug comes to an end. He pats Larry's shoulder, that big smile still on his aged face. "You guys brought the friend back! Convinced her to come huff up our humid air?"

Henry moves over to Ash, Todd, and then Sal to hug all of them. He purposefully places a discreet kiss on top of Sal's head before turning to me.

He holds his arms open suggestively and my heart flutters. "You okay with hugs?" He asks me. "Everyone's family here."

A grin of my own sneaks onto my face as I take a little step toward Henry and wrap my arms around his middle.

Henry's arms latch around my body, shielding me from the moist, heavy air of Nockfell and anything else that could possibly hurt me here. His embrace is so comforting, so familiar, so protective that tears I've been holding back for weeks suddenly rush to the surface.

I love my own dad, he's perfect, but being hugged by his near doppelgänger reminds me of how much I miss him. I wish dad and I weren't apart so often. But that'll change soon with the money I'm making.

I don't allow myself to weep, I hide the tears and pull away from the comforting hug I needed so desperately to smile sweetly at Henry. Lovely man, his own smile widens.

The group of us piles into Henry's old 2000 Nissan Pathfinder to navigate around Nockfell.

We first stop at Ash's place-- a home I haven't seen in a decade now. Everything is so nostalgic-- the tall, two story, white-painted, wooden home and the canopy of evil-looking trees that hide it from the road reminds me of a time that's been ripped away from me.

Ash leans on the door of Henry's SUV, the window down for her to speak to me before she disappears. "I'll come by Sal's or the apartments later to scoop you up, 'kay? Parents and I have a meeting with some guys to transfer ownership of some things to me before the move." She chews on her lip, a deep yearning in her pretty eyes. "I'd let you stay with me if I could."

I shake my head at her-- I don't want her to feel guilty for handling business. "No that's okay." I tell her sweetly, grabbing onto her hand. "I'll kickback with the guys."

Ash smiles, squeezing my hand in hers before breaking off to head to her house.

Now, I never imagined I'd end up coming back to Nockfell in general, but to stand in Sal Fisher's home? These were even more improbable odds.

And worse, Todd suddenly slips out of the house with the very mean (he's ditching me!) excuse of meeting with Neil for a late lunch. That just leaves me, Larry, and Sal standing in the spacious kitchen of their shared two-story home. It's quaint, roomy, and pretty nice. I imagine it's kept up specifically because Sal tends to it.

And Sal, he doesn't say anything. Which is typical behavior from him. He only, swiftly, spins on his heels, luggage in hand, and disappears into a room right past the stairs. Okay, fair. It's late in the afternoon-- naptime.

And now it's down to two.

I look to Larry with a grin. And he's grinning back excitedly, wiggling around like an antsy child who's about to go on a field trip.

"I can't believe we managed to get you over here," he whisper-yells, screaming silently. You know, just open-mouthed and head tipped to the ceiling in pure excitement.

"Even Copernicus wouldn't be able to debunk this turn of events," I joke, watching Larry dance around his kitchen. I put my bags down. I'm sure we'll figure out this situation later when Ash returns.

Larry opens up his refrigerator, moving around some bottles before uttering an expletive. "Ah, fuck," he hisses out, quickly lifting his head which results in him slamming said head into the freezer door. I pause, wincing, eyeing his silhouette warily while awaiting whatever he has to say next.

He resurfaces from the fridge, rubbing his aching head and chewing on his bottom lip. "I left my fucking bags in Henry's car." He curses again, glancing up at me with agitated eyes. "I have to run over to the apartments real quick." Larry starts inching away from the fridge and I feel my heart leap. How could he forget his luggage in the car? And is he really about to leave me here with the master of aggressive seduction himself? We're bound to tear this house apart either via sex or a physical fight. I just don't know which one.

"I'll be like... ten minutes at most," Lar says, squeezing past me and around the kitchen table, rerouting to the front door. He gives me a look that screams vulnerability and urgency. "Please don't kill Sal, and don't let him kill you. Okay? I'll be back in a jiffy."

I blink at him, running my tongue along the inside of my dry mouth. This is not going to go well. "Okay," I say anyway. I can already see the headline on the newspaper-- 'Masked Streamer, Sally Face, Brutally Murders and Chops Up Rising Streamer, VioletViolence, With Kitchen Knife.'

Larry nods at me, pinches his lips together in a moment of concerned hesitation, then disappears through the front door.

I stand in the empty kitchen for a moment, watching the back of Larry's head through the front door window. "In a jiffy..." I murmur to myself, recalling the most soccer-mom words I've ever heard come from Larry's vicinity. It was so odd, I mean he would never say something like that, but here we are.

The house is empty aside from myself and Sal. What the hell am I supposed to do? Watch The Office?-- well, that actually doesn't sound bad at all.

I can literally do anything I want, though. I have been given the most opportune opportunity to act upon my will as I see fit. With that in mind accompanied by the suspiciously good conversation a certain blue-haired individual and I shared on the plane, I think I have an idea of what I could do. And I know I'll have a willing partner.

This will either end in a homicide via kitchen knife or an orgasm. I'll take my chances.

A sly little grin fights its way onto my lips as I spin on my heels, trekking over to Sal's room. His door is closed, giving him an ample amount of darkness to hide in while gaming or sleeping or whatever he's doing. But for me, it's the ample amount of darkness to create a moody setting. It's perfect.

The cold, metal doorknob sits comfortably in the palm of my hand as I give myself one last chance to think about this. I really shouldn't do this, but the timing will never be this good again. With everyone moving to LA, I may never get a chance this convenient since someone will always be around.

That's the last little bit of encouragement I need to twist the knob and slowly push the plain, white painted door open.

The wood squeaks on its hinges, making Sal turn his head up from his PC. His dark, shadowed eyes meet mine. They go from curious to a bit miffed in half a second— but he doesn't say anything, really just ignores me and turns back to his setup.

My heart races. He didn't turn me away or tell me to get the fuck out of his room. That's a good start. But that also means I can actually follow through with my very sudden plan— a plan which has no plan. I didn't even brainstorm what I could do because I genuinely didn't think I'd get this far.

I watch him closely, noting the way his computer casts a cool, blue glow against his prosthetic. His hand moves the mouse around and he clicks on various things, really paying me no mind at all.

My teeth clamp onto my bottom lip as I step past the threshold of his room, grabbing hold of the door and slowly closing it behind me. Once it latches into place, I wait, simply observing the man with my back to the door. For good measure, I turn the lock. You know, just in case I manage to get somewhere.

And he still doesn't look my way. The fact that he's ignoring my presence right now makes anticipation build up within me. My heart thumps a little faster than it already has been. My cheeks feel warm, I can't keep my hands still. It's like my brain is kicked into overdrive, forcing me to take notice of every little thing.

I lick my lips and take a step forward, scratching at the skin on my knuckles. I take another step, then another, my body growing warm with anxiousness all because I may stand in front of this man, present myself to him, and come to regret it. I really might embarrass myself. Just because we agreed doesn't mean he wants me at this exact moment.

But before I'm even really prepared, I'm standing right beside him. And he's sitting there without a care in the world, comfortably propped up in his gaming chair and pulling up different comments on what looks to be YouTube.

I've done about all I can for right now, but we are on limited time. So I watch him for a moment. He has to know I'm right here— I wasn't quiet, I didn't avoid his field of vision. I'm right here.

And I still get nothing.

Time to think. Should I say something insulting? That usually gets him riled up. Maybe then, one thing will lead to another.

I bounce on my heels for a second as I think up a quick insult. "Is this how you waste your time? Figured you'd at least reply to some of your fans if you were going to read their comments. Kinda shitty of you." Low blow probably. I don't really mean it, but I'm sure he'll take it seriously. His fans mean a lot to him, it's the best way to gain his attention.

But Sal doesn't even react, only scrolls through a few replies under a comment and clicks 'like' on a some. He doesn't flinch. Doesn't look at me. Never makes a sound.

I roll my eyes. Playing hard to get are we? He fusses at me for not complying all the time— he's such a hypocritical asshole. I hate that I'm into it.

I swallow thickly, putting my hands behind my back to try and hide my nervous fidgeting. "Sal," I try, cringing a bit. That was desperation— he has to know that.

Again, nothing.

He really must be trying to piss me off, that or he isn't interested at all. But thankfully, the zero interest half doesn't stink like I was afraid it would. Instead, it spurs me into action.

He can ignore my words all he wants, but he can't ignore me.

"I'm going to touch you," I warn because consent is important. "If you don't want that, you need to tell me."

I wait a good thirty seconds but he stays silent.

I pinch my lips together then grab onto the armrest of his chair, pulling it back just enough to place my body between him and his computer. He simply looks up at me with disinterested eyes, so I go further, fueled by the spark in my soul and the rage of him purposefully pretending I'm not even there.

I take a step forward and put a gentle hand on his shoulder for balance, then easily slide myself onto his lap. His thighs are warm beneath my own, his skin smooth under my fingertips. The dark ink on his biceps contrasts beautifully with the milky color of his skin and it's quite an honor to finally run my hands over his art.

I watch the way my fingers drag down his arm then up again, returning to his shoulder. I'm on top of him and he still hasn't said a word, still hasn't touched me. At this point, I'm yearning for something— anything.

The only good sign I'm getting is that he hasn't pushed me off.

I glance up, looking into his blue eyes that are darkened by the shadows of his room. They're watching me closely, no ounce of emotion reflected in them. He's just observing.

My other hand travels to his prosthetic face, gripping onto his jaw in the way that he does to me so often. "Think you can ignore me?" I whisper, a little smirk quirking my lips despite how badly I wish I could contain it.

A slight furrowing of his brows is what I get in return.

Ha, got him.

He still doesn't say anything, but I've piqued his interest at least.

"Larry's gone," I say next, my eyes traveling to the rough prosthetic in my hands. I run my thumb over the underside of his jaw, feeling a number of scars.

"I assumed so," he says, voice a bit deeper than it normally would be and toneless like it seems to have been all day.

My gaze meets his again, and this time there's a little fire in his pretty eyes. There's desire, interest, slow-building exhilaration. I love seeing this look on him.

"Mhm," I hum, moving my other hand from his shoulder to the side of his neck. "Are you going to sit here and ignore me like the asshole you are, or are you going to have mercy on both of us?"

Sal slowly blinks, eyes traveling over my form, drinking me in like I'm the last drop of water on earth. "You called me an asshole for a reason," he bites out. "Don't expect much. Unlike you, I can actually hold out."

"But what's the point of holding out?" I counter, tilting my head to the left. "Larry's heading to the apartments. We have about ten minutes. That's enough room for one of a couple options. Stop being a little prick and do something."

"More like twenty. Larry takes his sweet ass time." Sal's eyes narrow. "You think insulting me is going to coerce me into this, you little bitch? Thought you knew our dynamic well enough by now." My words are getting to him. That's exactly what I want.

"I do know our dynamic," I whisper, leaning my head down so that my face is level with his. I look into his cerulean eyes and they gaze back at me, one pupil dilated. Then, I bend lower until I'm at the nape of his neck, his hair tickling my jaw.

I use the hand holding his face to tilt his head up and away from me, using the angle as leverage to place my lips onto his warm skin.

I hear a muffled sigh from him in response and it takes everything in me not to smile.

My mouth moves slowly along the side of his neck, placing meaningful, wet kisses along his throat. But when I get to the hilt of his tattoo, I bit down gently.

He flinches at the feeling of my teeth digging into his skin, then completely aborts his mission to ignore me completely.

Sal's hands fly to my waist, one gripping tightly onto my hip and the other trailing up my back and into my hair, gripping the strands tightly before yanking my head back.

My teeth are ripped from his neck immediately and Sal pulls me away from him by the base of my neck. I gasp, staring into his captivating azure eyes from just centimeters away. His prosthetic nose bumps my mask's and he holds me there without a word.

His eyes trail down my face and heavy breaths follow his gaze. His cold fingers are curled into my neck, his nails digging into my skin.

I swallow, wondering if maybe I should have just minded my own business, stayed in the living room and waited for Larry to come back. Maybe I pissed him off.

I lick my lips and blink at him, my mouth gapes open as I try to find something to say. He's silent. It's not awkward, just scary. Scary is ten times worse.

Sal must see the regret and fear in my eyes because his own eyes lessen their harsh glare a bit and then he rasps out, "Can I touch you?"

Every inch of my body goes rigid with shock, anticipation. "Yes," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. My fingers tighten ever so slightly on the underside of his jaw while my heart runs an entire marathon in my chest. Now is not the time to get nervous because I sweat when I'm nervous. I need to be horny– not nervous.

Sal takes a deep breath, eyes set on mine. I feel his chest rise ever so slowly, then go back down the same exact way. The pause between us is utter agony and I feel like I'm going to start spazzing out or something. Honestly, with the way I'm sitting on top of him, I might just fall over and die on the spot. That feels less incriminating than whatever is about to ensue.

Cool fingers grasp onto my thigh, his palm flattening against my skin. His hand drags up to my side, followed by his other hand leaving my neck to grab the other side of my waist. The feeling of him touching me, just like he'd asked, fills me with memories I tried so desperately to forget just a couple weeks or so ago. This is deja vu in the best way.

In one swift motion, Sal lifts me up and plops me on top of his desk. I brace myself with my hands on either side of his keyboard that lays behind me. Questions of concern start flowing through my brain because this is an odd place to be.

"Don't knock over my shit," Sal breathlessly informs, eyes glancing up to me. HIs hands move to the waist band of my bottoms and I suck in another anxious, anticipatory breath.

I nod quickly, watching him with wide eyes as he looks down at my waist, his hands circling to the front of my stomach and fumbling with the button of my shorts. Oh my gosh.

I gulp, looking at anything but the man between my legs, currently pulling down the shorts I'd traveled in. His cold fingers brush along the outside of my thighs, causing goosebumps to rise all over my skin. He's slow, purposeful, dragging this out to get whatever reaction out of me that he can. It feels like my heart is about to explode.

I have no idea what he's about to do, he doesn't warn me either. I don't have the guts to watch this scene play out. The prospect of his dilated pupils, messy hair, and that glare in his captivating eyes is too much-- so much that warmth pools between my thighs before he can initiate anything.

"You look scared," he murmurs and I flinch at the gentle, comforting tone he uses with me. I've never heard something such as this come from him and be directed at mebefore.

"I am," I answer honestly, licking my lips while his fingers slowly pull my shorts down my legs. I lift myself a bit to aid him, shivering when my bare legs meet the cold surface of his desk. "A bit."

"Why?" Sal asks, hands pressing onto my thighs. With how warm my skin is and how cool his fingers are, the contrasting temperature is enough to spark an aneurysm. He drags those hands of his up my legs until he reaches my panties, hooking his digits into them.

I shake my head, chin quite literally tilted up to the ceiling. I'm not quite sure what has me so scared. Am I afraid of myself? Him? Getting caught? Being dropped again?

One risky hand leaves my hip and Sal's prosthetic comes into view. He's hovering over me, in a standing position now. His hair falls onto my shoulders, shielding us from the rest of the world like a curtain. I blink up at him, breath caught in my throat as a rush of chills invades my body.

"Hey," he says. His voice is a bit on edge, but it's concerned. So concerned that it distracts me from my own fear for a moment. "You're okay," he continues, his hand gripping onto my chin and pulling my head down so we can be eye level. I look between his bright eyes-- his eyebrows are risen a bit, as if to communicate to me that I can trust him. But can I?

"I'll take care of you. If you want to stop, if you don't want to start-- let me know. Say anything and I'll end it immediately." He tilts his head a bit, eyes glancing over my face. This is different. This looks vulnerable. "If I made you uncomfortable at all, I--"

My head shakes in opposition. I don't even have to think about it. "No, it's not that. It-- I trust you." The words spew out of my mouth and I immediately regret it. Something smug takes over his expression and I press my lips together, grabbing onto his wrist connected to the hand that's still holding my chin. "I trust you with this. If I was tied to train tracks, I wouldn't even think of calling you." I narrow my eyes at him to exemplify my point. His eyes squint as if he's... smiling? I'll ignore that. "But you've never... made me uncomfortable. You always ask. You always check. So..."

I watch him nod slowly, our gazes never disconnecting. He seems to contemplate what I've said, measurably formulating his next move. "Do you want to talk about what's stressing you then?"

My head rears back and my eyebrows furrow, his hand falling away from my face. "What brain eating amoeba has overtaken you?" I blurt out, holding a hand out between us. It's incredibly odd-- this is out of place. "You are never concerned about me-- what is this?"

If you can't tell, I'm not a fan of change. I greatly prefer stability even if it's toxic.

Sal drops the caring act almost immediately, his eyes rolling so hard that I'm worried they'll sink into his body. "I can't go down on you if you're freaked, can I? I wouldn't even feel comfortable doing that. I'm an asshole, not a monster."

I pause, every facial feature relaxing as his statement slaps me in the face. Key words: go, down, on, you, asshole, monster. Yep, only monstrous assholes go down on their enemies. I'm the very brave, very eager, very shocked recipient of this going down.

I take a deep, shaky breath, blinking at Sal who watches me with what looks like a raised eyebrow. "Okay," I breathlessly whisper. "How are you-- are you..." Why am I rambling? What kind of answer am I looking for? Obviously the prosthetic is about to come off and I just have to contain the desperate, whore-like rage within.

"Shut up, Vi," he chuckles over my nickname, grabbing onto my thighs and tugging me to the edge of the desk as he sits in his chair again. My fingertips press into the wooden surface while my heart threatens to pound its way through my ribcage. "Just let me taste you."

Cue internal screaming. I'm so going to faint-- and the addition of watching his pretty guitar-playing hands leave my skin to unbuckle his prosthetic is pushing me to astronomical heights. I don't even exist anymore. I'm just a wisp, a little phantom fairy watching her favorite sex movie play out in real time. It's called Faceless Fixation. She's the Fellatio Fairy. I don't even-- whoever is writing my life needs to give me a break.

I'm shivering like I have hypothermia by the time Sal carefully pulls the prosthetic off his face, making sure to not mess up his hair. And then he glances up at me. Bright eyes hesitant, sort of wide. Eyebrows risen just a bit and lips pressed together like he wants to say a thousand things but can't. He looks so nervous and it's a moment we can both share.

For reassurance (I think we both need it) I smile at him. Just a slight upward tilt of my lips as I press my thighs together. He's so beautiful. Every scar, every indentation, every feature, every little freckle. Just wow-- he's a sight to behold.

Sal's gaze flits to my lips, then down to my legs and he grabs onto them again, purposefully pulling them apart. His black polished nails dig into my skin as he gazes down at my underwear. I'm so used to watching his reactions and feelings portrayed only through his eyes, but watching the way his jaw tenses and the moment his lips part like he can't wait any longer makes me feel like I'll implode.

His fingers run up my legs to my hips, dipping into my panties and pulling them downward. I gulp over the sight, relishing in the deja vu. How kind of him to not rip these this time.

I lift myself up as he shimmies them down my legs, finally pulling them from around my ankles and holding them up for me to see. I blink, warmth rushing to my face at his boldness. And Sal, well-pleased, quirks a little seductive smile at them before switching his gaze to me.

"I haven't even touched you and you're soaked," is what he murmurs, eyes dancing over my half naked body with very little focus on my face. It's like he's glued to what hides behind my clenched thighs, eagerly awaiting what he'll find between them. "You're inflating my ego way too much," his voice is a bit louder this time-- darker, more sinister. The pronunciation of his words shows off charming, slightly crooked front teeth and sharp canines. I'll never know how I haven't ascended already.

I shiver, trying and failing to hide my reaction. But it doesn't really matter, seeing as Sal caught onto it anyway and his hooded eyes are on mine, a dangerous glint clashing with the hypnotizing azure shade of his irises.

His hands are on my legs again, fingers roughly squeezing my skin. He isn't putting off his plans again though. When he separates my legs and I try my best not to push him away out of fear, Sal leans forward and presses his lips to the inside of my left thigh.

I take a deep, shuddering breath as I bathe in the feeling of his soft, jagged lips moving along my sensitive skin. I commit the image to memory, absolutely astonished over the way his blue eyes are closed while he inches closer and closer to my pussy.

I'm unable to take a full breath at this point, my body is tense while I try to hold myself in an upright position, pathetically falling apart as his mouth dances along the inside of my thigh like he's studied and perfected each step he takes. His hands are molded into my skin, they've become a part of me. He's pressing my thigh up to his face, leaving the most inebriating kisses. I wish he would stop teasing me already.

At the same time, I'm obsessed with the way he's handling me. Delicately, carefully, but he's in full control and making me wait. Testing me. Seeing if I'll push him, hoping I'll give him a good reason to punish me.

Sal's eyes open again, glancing up to meet mine. I suck in a breath, watching as he opens that dirty mouth of his and bites into the sensitive skin at the top of my thigh.

I hiss, wincing at the slight pain but my eyes never leave his. They could never. And he loves that, takes it as a challenge because those sky blue eyes close and he bites down harder, sucking my skin into his mouth to leave his mark.

Some kind of satisfied, sickeningly delighted feeling swells in my chest at the knowledge of having a mark from him on my body. It's primal, it's a little weird, but I adore the idea and maybe he does too. After what he said to me about North on the flight to Nockfell, I'd guess he's more than happy to stake his claim even if it's invisible to the outside world.

Sal finally pulls his teeth from my leg, revealing a gnarly, dark purple mark in his wake. He places a quick, soothing kiss to the abused skin before trailing his way closer to my pussy. He masks his destination with more wet kisses and bites and I'm so worked up by now that a light sheen of sweat has formed on my forehead. I can't be doing this-- this is complete torture.

"Sal," I groan out, flinching at the sinful tone of my voice. It makes him pause his movements as well. "Please," I tack on, the word quiet and agonizingly pleading.

He hums against my skin, eyes zeroed in on mine. I hate being so direct, it's terrifying, but it's worth it if it'll end up with his tongue buried in me, right?

"Beg for it," he says lowly, a slight rasp to his voice. His tone makes me shiver, as well as his words and I would drop to my hands and knees if he told me to right now.

My lips part upon hearing him and I release a shaky breath, thighs drawing together until he stops them with his tight grip. My heart is running a marathon, my limbs are trembling and I'm wondering if maybe this is all just a really awesome dream.

"Please," I repeat, voice coming out as a whine. For once, I don't regret it because this is what he wants. "I'm desperate." I don't know how else to portray to him that I need this-- the wait is nearly excruciating. "I need to feel you."

Sal pulls away from my skin, tongue lapping at all of his bite marks before a sadistic smile pulls at his lips. "How much do you hate me?" And he's waiting, waiting for a wordy explanation of my distaste for him. But now, with the way things have changed between us-- even if it's slightly-- describing my loathing somehow feels harder.

So I snort, trying to coerce him into putting his mouth on me again regardless of the location. But all the shivers, waiting, and very slow building orgasm is slipping away into the distance. "A lot," I whisper shakily.

He gives me a look, eyes narrowed and lips pressed together as if I've disappointed him. "You can do better than that, Vi. Where's the fire?" He leans toward the thigh he hasn't captured with his mouth yet and skims his teeth along my skin. "Should I give you an example?"

I lick my lips, a sudden fluttering in my chest making me feel light headed. I hesitantly shake my head-- the longer he isn't paying attention to me, the farther I am from cumming. I can come up with something to say can't I? Of course I can. He's infuriating enough.

"Alright then," he mumbles monotonously, finally ditching my thighs. He yanks me a bit closer, eyes still rifling through my soul. "Then tell me. And if you stop," he warns as I swallow against the pounding in my chest due to his positioning, face mere inches from my sopping cunt. He's dragged this on long enough. "I stop. Keep that filthy mouth of yours moving."

He waits for me to launch into a monologue of detest. His mouth so close to my clit, breath tickling my skin and forcing a quiet little whimper from me.

"I fucking hate the constant foul mood you're always in," I force out, feeling my heart leap into my throat the second the words leave my mouth. Because Sal keeps his promise and with an inebriating grunt of approval, he finally attaches his lips to my clit, tongue running over it like he's desperate to soak up every inch of what I have to offer.

The feeling of his mouth on my pussy is incomparable to any other type of satisfaction in the world-- this is what I've waited for. And he happily makes up for the lost time, expertly flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves and sucking it farther into his mouth. He moans against my cunt, hands dragging up my thighs to cup my ass and force me even closer to him. He squeezes my skin, a reminder to keep talking.

I dig up all the things I can't stand about him, slathering them across my brain so I can tell him about it. "You're a brick wall. No matter what I say, you refuse to listen. How come you're never open to hearing anyone out?" I whimper between words, squirming around on his desk and trying my damn hardest not to ruin any of his belongings.

Sal lifts my legs over his arms, pushing them onto his shoulders and I swear I'm about to combust. The way his tongue maps figure eights and circles around my clit does nothing to help, only sends me further toward falling apart.

I squeeze my eyes shut, fingers curling over the edge of his desk, heavy breaths and quiet moans falling past my lips no matter how badly I wish I could keep them inside. "You have some kind of God complex. You think you're right about everything, have to be in control of everything and I can't stand it. I can't stand you and your constant need to have everything you want."

His teeth graze over my clit and my mouth falls open, waves of pleasure rolling through my body like I've never experienced before. He moves downward, his tongue buried between my folds and licking up every bit of my arousal that he can get. Upon getting a better taste of me, he moans and I can feel the vibration of it everywhere, all the way up to my fingertips.

"I hate how easily you turn me on, how wet I get just from a simple touch," I admit, teeth clamping down onto my bottom lip as his tongue explores the inside of my pussy like he's been starved of me for far too long. His nails dig into my skin, the action eliciting a stinging sensation that only adds to the pleasure he's giving me. This is everything. "And you're so unfair. So pretty, so damn attractive with that horrible personality of yours. Why can't you be pretty through and through?"

I open my eyes again to watch him, drowning in the prospect of his face buried between my thighs, cheeks flushed and hair a mess. I watch as he drags his mouth up to my clit again, drawing patterns and shapes I don't care to know over the bundle of nerves. The rough, slick feeling of his tongue on such a sensitive place is addicting. So long as he's around to bring me to new heights like this, I don't need anything else. Maslow's hierarchy of needs has never been so wrong-- this is my sole need.

I can't help myself-- I reach a hand out, my fingers burying themselves into Sal's hair. It's soft. Just as soft as I knew it would be. And he doesn't seem to mind, only continues to suck on my clit and abuse it with his tongue. I close my hand into a fist, lightly tugging on his hair. I need something to hold onto.

"And your stupid fucking mouth," I groan out, sucking in a breath that never fully fills my lungs. His tongue dips into my pussy again, making another little groan follow my first. My thighs are clenched tightly at this point, quaking furiously. Sal never tries to stop me, doesn't calm me. It's clear how much he enjoys bringing me to ruin. "All the awful things you say, so many dirty words and you are so good with your tongue. I've never craved and loathed something so much in my life."

Sal smiles against my pussy-- I watch in pure amazement as the corners of his lips curl upward like what I said was everything he's always wanted to hear. It's so lewd, so perverted and I absolutely will never forget this moment.

One of his hands lets go of my ass, trailing down my thigh again but moving to the inside this time. As his teeth gently nip at my clit and his tongue laps at my pussy, the tips of his fingers press against my opening, a silent request for more of my profession of hatred. A profession I'm more than happy to give him.

"I can't imagine how much I'll hate the way you fuck me just because I know it'll be better than any sex I've had before," I tell him, watching his mouth move against my cunt with furrowed brows and my lips parted in intrigue. Oh, he's so good at what he does.

Sal's eyes meet mine again. Eye contact with him when he's in such an erotic position is incredibly intense. I feel like my entire body is going to crumple before he can finish me off and it all counts on if he's able to hold me up or not. But as soon as his cerulean gaze meets mine, two of his fingers sink into me. The action is slow, drawn out, and drags a nasty moan out of me in turn.

Sal whimpers against my pussy, taking care of me like he promised he would. When his fingers reach as far as they can go, he curls them, causing me to flinch at the sensuous feeling. There's so much going on to the point that every inch of my body feels impossibly overwhelmed.

My sensitive clit gets sucked into Sal's mouth again, but then he pulls away. His fingers make up for the absence of his tongue, pounding into me in the same salacious way he's done before.

"Is that all you've got?" he grumbles breathlessly, glazed eyes glaring into mine. This is the expression I'm used to with him-- anger and dominance.

I choke on the breath I try to take, my thighs pressing into his neck as his fingers slam in and out of my soaked cunt, digits only pausing their relentless pace to curl into me. I try to fight against my one working brain cell, try to form words for him, but-- "I can't." is all that I'm able to create, the two short words coming out as an imploring cry.

Sal stands, finger-fucking me into an alternate dimension. He hovers over me, his hair brushing my shoulders and neck. I watch him, an absolute mess beneath him but I can't look away-- even through the panting breaths that morph into whimpers and moans.

His eyes glance between mine, seemingly contemplating something in that meticulous mind of his.

"Yea, you can, gorgeous," he grinds out behind clenched teeth, using the hand that's gripping my ass to press me against his chest. Our even closer proximity somehow forces his fingers deeper into my pussy, his thumb rubbing my clit. "Tell me more." My mouth is dry, I'm going to cum soon, and hopefully I don't actually fall over before that.

Sal takes a page out of my book, leaning closer to me and nipping at the skin of my throat. A little gasp falls past my lips and I finally let go of his hair, dragging my hand down to his neck. Those fingers work me to the core, never ceasing their movements and pushing into me with so much perfectly applied force.

His mouth moves along the side of my neck, his lips still wet from my juices. I have no idea what gave him the confidence, but I'm not mad. Everything that couldn't be done with his prosthetic can be done now and he's taking advantage of it. "Speak," he snaps, tone not so gentle or comforting like it was when this first began. "Or else."

My mind is blank. "I'm about to cum," I begrudgingly whisper, completely overtaken by his fingers thrusting into me and his thumb focused on my oversensitive clit.

I shut my eyes, my free arm wrapping around his shoulders. Every inch of my body is tense, senses heightened and alert. I don't think I can possibly hold on any longer-- I doubt Sal needed my confirmation to tell that I'm close.

His digits curl into me again, repeating the action. I follow up with a loud whimper, my nails digging into the skin of his neck as he sucks on the skin behind my ear. I wish he'd have ditched the prosthetic sooner because I've really been missing out.

The hand still gripping onto my butt retreats to my stomach, fingers disappearing under my shirt and crawling across my ribs to my bra. He treats it as if it isn't even there, hand easily dipping beneath the fabric. His palm envelops my breast, squeezing gently and massaging the skin. It's such a considerate touch compared to the way he treats the rest of my body-- he knows exactly where the sweet spots are.

"Cum," he commands, lips brushing the shell of my ear and fingers pounding into my sore cunt, thumb running over my hardened nipple.

My head drops onto his shoulder and with one more curl of his fingers, I do as he says and fall apart in his arms. I burst almost instantly, doing anything to keep myself silent over the feeling of his fingers gently caressing the inside of my pussy, riding me through my orgasm just like he did the first time. My teeth sink into his shoulder, a muffled whimper following soon after. Sal tenses up in my arms, a pleasured breath falling from his mouth and fanning over the side of my neck.

"Good girl," he purrs into my ear, lips skimming over the warm skin at my throat. He leaves one more sloppy kiss to my neck then pulls away to look into my eyes again. I can hardly hear anything he says as my teeth are forced away from his shoulder, still reeling from the orgasm that slammed into me nearly unannounced. My limbs feel like jelly as chills run up my spine. "You listen to me so well," he continues. I can't even look into his eyes; I just watch the way his lips move. How his tongue presses into the back of his teeth to pronounce a syllable. His sharp canines that undoubtedly left their own bruises on my skin.

I gulp, unable to peel my eyes away from the mouth that masterfully brought me to climax. For the first time ever, I wonder what his mouth would feel like against mine. How soft his scarred lips would feel, not on my skin, but captured by my own. What his tongue would taste like. What his teeth would feel like nipping at my lips.

Sal doesn't move away from me-- keeps our close proximity with his nose nearly brushing my mask's. He slowly, delicately pulls his fingers out of me but only continues to gaze into my eyes.

This is dangerous territory. Very dangerous. Because the impossible is coursing through me right now and I... somehow can't find it in me to hate him in this exact moment.

But then he blinks. Stands to his full height, moving away from me. His azure gaze turns to the desk I'm sitting on and he grabs my panties, offering them to me. Not an ounce of emotion evident on his face. I'd always wondered what he'd look like simply because I was curious if his face gave away his emotions better than his eyes could. It's pretty impressive how he's able to keep a straight mug though, RBF and all. Especially when he lifts the hand he fingered me with to his mouth and licks my cum off. He doesn't even look at me as his tongue runs up the length of his digit, just turns away from me and walks to the other side of the room.

I'm floored, jaw dropped and pussy wet. Again. That's really fucking hot.

I watch him strut away, follow his movements as he drops to his haunches and opens up his suitcase with his clean hand. He grabs something then faces me again, beginning to walk back with a finger still in his mouth.

My chest tightens at the sight. He can't be doing this to me. Not when Larry is going to be home any minute-- he needs to keep both his hands at his sides.

Thankfully, Sal has some mercy on me and finally finishes cleaning his fingers, eyes darting up to mine again. He walks up to me, right where I'm still sitting on top of his desk and drops fabric onto my bare thighs.

My brows furrow and I look down, grabbing lace. I lift it up, unfolding it to see that it's a near replica of the lace underwear he'd ripped off of me in Vegas. Only it's a completely brand new pair. No rips, no issues. My heart swells a bit at the gesture-- he bought a new pair like I'd told him to. I wasn't even serious, but he did it anyway.

I puff out my cheeks, contemplating what to say. Thank you's are virtually nonexistent between us. My eyes flit up to meet his again and he stuffs his hands into his pockets, watching me.

"You taste good," he nonchalantly comments, causing an infuriating blush to heat my cheeks.

"Thanks," I murmur, holding up the lace panties to show that I'm thankful for them too. "You taste pretty good too." He does. I'll have to return the favor to him when I get the chance.

A barely audible snort comes from him and I almost smile.

"I'd fuck you, but Larry will be back any minute and Ash probably isn't far behind him," he says, turning on his heel and walking toward the door. "I suggest you put your clothes back on. Panties are clean, I washed them."

My eyebrows raise and I pinch my lips together. Huh. "How kind of you," I say half sarcastically. Only half because it's helpful that they are clean-- it's almost like he knew he'd place me in a predicament where I needed fresh underwear. "You trying to kick me out?" I add. Of course he is, I'm just trying to make my way out of here as awkward-less as possible.

"Hell yea," he says proudly, "I have shit to do."

"Are you calling me a distraction?" I ask, looking toward him as I shimmy my underwear and shorts up my legs then start working on the button.

Sal tilts his head, hand on the doorknob. "And a mild aggravation."

"Oh, wow," I gasp, feigning surprise. "Mild? I must be working my way onto your good side."

"Fuck me good enough and we'll see how far you get," he replies, eyes watching my every move but face still unreadable as I begin walking toward him.

I roll my eyes. Of course. I pinch my lips together and give him a disinterested look. This is my lesson to never try to have a casual conversation with him again. He clearly doesn't want it, which, fair. Our agreement is sex, not friendship. "Okay," I say dramatically when he opens the door for me. "Bye, Sal."

The man nods his head, acknowledging the shift in the room. His eyes stay glued to mine like they have been the entire time I've been here. Now that I'm not distracted by his mouth on my pussy, I realize that this is an odd thing for him to do. He looks at me every once in a while, but not in such a... scrutinizing way.

He purses his lips and says, "Bye, y/n."

Every nerve-ending in my body suddenly shuts off. Everything is still. I have no thoughts for a moment, no physical reaction. Just stillness. I don't breathe, I don't move. I just watch him.

There's no way— he has to have mixed up my names. It has to be that.

And then everything hits me. Sal Fisher just said my name. And not the fake one that I've been hiding behind. He said my actual name— the one that's on my birth certificate. And now my hands are shaking, my heart is racing, my breaths are uneven, and I feel like I'm going to throw up.

"What the fuck," I say shakily. I'm not ready for this. I'm going to completely switch his thought process around-- "did you just say?"

The look in his eyes changes, they light up a bit as if he's caught me. And still he decides to mess with me. "Huh?" he innocently asks.

Okay, I'd really like to wake up now.

My eyes narrow. So that's the game he wants to play? This isn't the time and I don't have the mental capacity to handle this. Not only am I recovering from a mind-blowing orgasm, but I was just getting over the overwhelming anxiety I suffered from yesterday.

"I'm not y/n, if that's what you're thinking," I rush to tell him, even adding in the fakest little smirk I've ever slapped onto my face. Anything to get him off my tail, whatever I can think of to save my ass. This really can't be happening to me.

He's still watching me speculatively and it's making my brain itch. "You know," he finally starts, voice disgustingly pleased. "I went out on a limb with that one." I watch in horror as a little smirk begins to grow on his face. I don't want to accept it yet, I really don't, but I think I'm fucked and not physically.

At the end of the day, he's still managed to fuck me in multiple ways. I cannot stand Sal Fisher.

"What are you even talking about?" I ask him, clearing my throat quietly while taking a safe step out of his door and into the living room. I try my best to keep my eyes on him while extinguishing the fear from my gaze. If I act horrified, he'll sniff me out instantly. That is, if he hasn't already.

Sal chuckles deeply— it's, shockingly, an amused and prideful one rather than something sick, dark, and twisted. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. I try my best not to adore the way his scars stretch with his laugh and the sight of his pretty teeth. "Any other woman would have assumed I was sleeping with someone else if I called them by another name," he says lightheartedly, tilting his head down a bit. "But you didn't. And that can only mean that I'm right."

I open my mouth to decline, fear thrumming through me. He caught me red handed. I can't fucking believe this.

"And don't try to deny it, you won't change my mind. I've been very sure of who you are for months now."

My head slowly begins to shake of its own accord. He never fails to shock me. "How..."

Sal shrugs. "You couldn't have timed your introduction more horrendously. Think about it," he says, chewing on his bottom lip. "I bitch at y/n over a phone call, then the next day, a wild VioletViolence pops into my life and isn't too surprised by my shitty personality. The second you were added to the Discord server, I had my suspicions." He shrugs nonchalantly, like the confirmation doesn't bother him in the slightest. "I talked it over with Larry and Todd too. They're pretty sure of your identity as well. They were just nice enough to wait for you to tell us on your own." His eyes narrow, sly like a fox. "But I'm not nice and wanted to know for myself. Wanted to scare you a bit too."

I swallow over the bile rising in my throat. Scare me, he did. I have no idea what to do with myself. I must look like a deer in headlights nearing its death sentence. "It... it doesn't bother you?" I decide to ask in a small voice, unable to blink as I watch him closely.

That same smug little smile is still lighting up his marred face as he says, "Regardless, I still can't stand you and I'll still fuck you stupid."

-----------

A/N::::::: OMFFGGGGG I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS CHAPTER FOR AGESSSSSS PLEASE!!! more specifically the end of it! i've had this last scene written since like... 2022 o_O

i want to give a HUGE thanks to my very good friend, Phoebe, who inspired me to write the catalyst of the smut scene with this AMAZING piece of art that they drew :3 i am soooo so grateful for having the opportunity to see the art in general, but getting to write it too??? OMG so incredibly grateful <33

side note: this is my first time writing a smut scene like this one-- well, actually any time i write a different kind of sex it's new for me LMFAO i am exploring EVERYTHINGGGG and i also have no idea if this is any good. so like last chapter, if y'all could give me some tips or things you like and didn't like, i would GREATLY appreciate it :3

i'm going catch up on my neglected homework. as always, have a wonderful morning/day/evening/night. my heart belongs to all of you <3

#sal fisher #sally face #larry johnson #ash campbell #todd morrison #travis phelps #enemies to lovers #sally face fandom #sally face fanfiction #fanfic #smut

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julietsbb · 4 months ago

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These days I've wanted to send an ask about the latest updates because I've had a lot of rambles in my mind, so here I go as I reread some parts.

First of all, I need to mention my stupidity to you -- I'm rereading the part where they invent the 1-10 scale of numbing. When I read the last update of Pond asking for an 8, I forgot that the scale went "1 for the least sensation, 10 for the most sensation" and my line of thinking went "ah, an 8 means he wants Phuwin to breathe 8 times over his skin so it's properly numbed" so I believed that my man Pond wanted the least sensation experience after having fingers in his mouth. Still, NO, it was THE OPPOSITE, he wants PAIN and I also want PAIN for him. djafhd now I'm thinking 'wtf was in your mind, what was your logic'.

Yeah. MOVING ON.

I've had this question in my mind for a while, so I will ask you finally. I tend to overthink/over analyse, and so I'm really intrigued about what's vamp!Phuwin's mentality when it comes to Pond, and his crush on him. His thought process about Pond being his. The latest updates (will never forget the finger-in-mouth scene okay, never) increased this curiosity.

I wonder if them being actors helps with his feelings, or it actually impedes the process. I wonder if having Pond as 'his', as in, his partner, his love in two series kind of holds off the realization that he'd want Pond as 'his' in real life as well, because he is good at compartmentalizing that sort of thing. Of separating the intimacy he has with Pond onscreen, and for their fans.

Or if it's actually quite the opposite, and it's such a recurring thing - Pond being his in so many ways, that he doesn't even need any sort of realization. And more like - it's already happening. He has experience with it, so it doesn't hit him like a slap.

I wonder this because seeing how their intimacy develops is so interesting. I also wonder it because of Phuwin's last talk to his mom, and how he felt robbed 'of Pond', so to speak, and it was just so interesting to read that. Because I felt like... he was having these feelings, and they were as difficult as they were inevitable. Does that make sense? HE's trying to make sense of them, but he's also not denying them: "...he knows it's more than just feeding".

So is it because he's used to it from the other manners in which he has Pond? Or is it something else? They had so many moments that can be catalogued as glaringly obvious, romantic in nature, and yet there are times where they hit Phuwin hard, and other times where he smooths into them like he's been doing it for years. It's just interesting, you know? What can you give me about this?

The vampire forum were such an interesting detail, dear! Would love to know more about that. I'm a sucker for invented helping sites/forums, especially in fantasies.

"The urge to touch him is new, Phuwin knows, because he didn’t used to feel this way when looking at Pond, but it feels familiar." - See what I mean? Stop me if I'm actually very fcking delulu because I'm used to doing this from university (looking for undercurrent meanings in texts) but he mentions/acknowledges these feelings as new, yet he also mentions they are familiar.

"Pond slumps into him, clutching his back, curving around him as a willow would in the wind." - what lovely softness in his affections.

Pond closes his mouth again, sweet puppy eyes dripping, reluctance sticking to the tips of his eyelashes. - you write pond with a softness and a need so visceral, and it's so goddamn charming and lovely. i love your depiction of him. so, so much. "A possessive hiss slithers up from the depths." - possessive phu is everything i need in this life. “Yes,” Pond replies, not a strain of doubt to be found in his voice. “I was actually kind of hoping you would… do,” a pause, “something.” - it's so interesting how they don't talk about it, but both Phu and Pond expect it. Both are so eager for it, in different ways. It's so addictive as a narrative. Clearly, communication is amazing, is key, but to see them slide into BDSM-ish scenes, softcore ones, with so much ease and so much eagerness is so fascinating.

"So, you like it when I play with you?" - We ALL like it bro I will never tire of the finger-in-mouth scene. It's my second favorite (the bathroom bite scene was and is my most favorite), but God it's so good. "Open" and POND DOES THAT AND PHUWIN IS SO FJSHFSHGF

He's so hot. What a man. What a vamp. Damn.

(Also julie don't ever think I forgot that you alluded to Phu jerking off while he stuffs his fingers in Pond's mouth- i can't get that scene out of my head. IT WAS SUCH A WHIPLASH)

Their conversation about it being awkward felt so real. They may feel like it isn't like before, but like Phu said, not talking proved to be deadly for them, so it is better to go through this phase of 'things feel stilted' and then grow into it then having misunderstandings again.

Can't wait to see how this combination of "8 on numbing, multiple bites, take photos after" will go jfhsfhsf SO MANY TASTY THINGS GONNA HAPPEN IN THIS NEXT BITING SESSION

you truly left us panting like dogs for more, julie. i respect it. i love you and your story. please take care of yourself, lovely. sorry for the perhaps delulu rambles. i love being delulu for your story tho.

Cooooleeeeee, Cole omg this is everything!!! I'm not certain I will be able to answer and/or address everything to satisfaction, but i shall certainly try! Thank you thank you thank you for having so many lovely thoughts about my story, first of all!!!!

lolololol your stupidity is a LITTLE funny but i've misinterpreted things in fic multiple times myself, i brains just fail to brain sometimes - just ask alan lmao. i've no idea where your brain got the idea of eight breaths from tho - but like, the way i made the scale work IS a bit counter intuitive, because it's a numbing scale and so the higher on the scale the more numbing, would be the logical thing. But then I realised that Pond asking for "more" would mean giving Phuwin smaller numbers and then I was like "I want a 2(/10)" just doesn't sound as sexy as "I want an 8(/10)" - lmao that was my logic so i flipped it 😂 I'm so glad we all want pain for him 😌

I definitely plan on bringing back the forum thing for a Purpose™ so it shall return, but I'm kinda thinking of it having the shape of a mix between online queer spaces and online kink spaces, because like, a minority group finding and teaching each other and sharing online and hosting meet ups etc., but due to a certain level of sigmatism and/or people just wanting to keep it private, it's more closed, more anonymous and/or invite only or access through a vetting process. There's definitely vampirism as a minority group symbology/parallelism in this. Also re: Phuwin's thoughts on how it would affect his career is it was to become public, would he be typecast or labelled etc etc.

I love how you highlighted some of my descriptions, it's really appreciated, because if I do one of the (for me!) 'wilder' ones, I tend to question myself a little more. So thank you for appreciating my descriptions and especially the way i write Pond ❤ I worry about striking balance with his character because I want it to ring somewhat true and not just be soft sub pond all the time <.< but i do write a lot of that. but I don't want him to be ONLY that.

re: the whole 'sliding into soft-core dynamic' thing... it can happen it's not unrealistic i know it because i lived it 💀 at least we both knew wtf a dynamic WAS beforehand so it was much easier to talk about and realise lmao. When the dynamic is there it's just fun and can be quite easy to slide into. And here both characters are eager for it because they got interrupted last time - dynamic blue-balled, if you will. So they're both itching for it.

I'm sooooo pleased you like the fingers in mouth scene enough for it to be your second favourite! to me, there was an important point to make in showing how they can 'play' without any biting involved. It's a very explicit way of showing just how much beyond feeding it has gone - it can exist fully independent of it! Feeding was the means with which it grew between them, how they explored it and how they got to know it, but they don't need it. At least, not for that particular purpose.

(Haha! I'd low key forgotten about that allusion i did in a reply or a tag somewhere - but it's a very good image i'm still fond of it, let us see if it will ever be written ever lmao)

Yeah, they'd become too reliant on intuition so they have to relearn and practise how to do their thing with communication. Which will be awkward at first, especially since they don't really at this point quite have the vocabulary they need for it.

I'm excited for writing the upcoming part as well, but i'm going on a trip with friends this weekend so I MAY have time to update tomorrow aka thursday or MAYBE sunday but otherwise I'm off being social with friends slkghslkhg by god do i need it but it means less time for our boys and their shenanigans.

'panting like dogs. i respect it' made me cackle out loud ❤ incredible. and thank you 😚😚

NOW on to the main question of your ask, which I thought I would tackle last. Phuwin. His mentality. Etc. IT'S A GOOD QUESTION. and the answer is... I've mostly just written what felt natural? What my brain served me? 😭😭

But the thing is, it's kind of both at the same time. Because of their pre-existing closeness and the gradual growth of both intimacy and feelings, he kind of doesn't notice it is happening. And then, because he lacks the framework to think about it in (aka understanding it as kink and/or something sexual/sexual-adjacent (platonic kink can exist too tho!)) he cannot quite pinpoint what his feelings or urges are, just that they are not different than they were. Like, he often needs something 'outside' to give him perspective, like when he thinks about his mother's deal with her coworkers and suddenly gets the flash that he would consider his mom doing what he is doing with pond with anyone other than his father cheating. Or when he comes home and is faced with how everything they're doing has transitioned from something he started out chatting with his mom about (even if he was embarrassed or whatever) to something he very much does NOT feel comfortable discussing with a parent. Like most young people with sex related things.

But then as his self-awareness grows he starts noticing the new elements in the way he reacts to Pond. Like that line with 'new but familiar' - i think, a) it was served to me by my brain when I wrote it i did not have any deliberate thoughts about it lol but also b) like, it's new because he recognises that a pre-feeding-on-Pond!Phuwin wouldn't have felt like that or had that urge, but also, it's familiar because it's been with him for a while, it's just that he's only just now been conscious of it? So it isn't new, but his awareness of it is, so it feels new, but not.

I think I write my phuwin fairly decent at compartmentalising, because that's the vibe I get from him IRL. Also with the way he's talked about how it was new for him to inject a little of himself into Peem, how he usually prefers to keep it as separate as possible, that kind of thing. But they already were uniquely close beforehand, due to their "work-bond", so to speak. Honestly, someone should study BL official couple friendships and how they carry a different type of knowing and intimacy. It's very interesting to me. I think their 'work bond' has impeded phuwin's realisation process, in a way, because the nature of their relationship was hard-to-define/blurry-ish to begin with, and then there was just "added a new layer of blurry", making it harder to tell apart from the others, versus if they'd had a very "standard" friendship with no additional closeness or intimacy beforehand, then the contrast of a new blurry layer would be more noticable. But because it was already "blurry", it made it easier for them to slip into "additional blurry", so in that way I think it may have assisted the process.

I hope that sort of addresses your question(s) about this 🙏 Goodnight, Cole ❤

#thunder-point #ask #certain solid fragrance #cole u are majestic #pondphuwin #rpf fic

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