#emotional whiplash galore | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

annkous · 2 years ago

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Who's an airhead? Me! With the event going on I didn't think they'd release Lesson 12, but joke's on me, because they did. Not only that, but for some astral alineation, I completely missed anyone talking about it in both twitter and tumblr. I only realized it was out when I went to jump chapters on the normal mode this morning and saw "Lesson 12: 0/12-13-14 some number I forgot" on the list and then flipped my shit. I have the notifications on for the official account as well, but I somehow missed it too. Whoops.

Anyways it's an emotional galore and Solmare sure likes its cliffhangers, again.

Lesson 11 suffering

Look! Nightbringer decides to grace us with his invisible presence! And ngl I'm terrified of the options they gave us when asked what we thought of this world:

I chose I wanted to go home, and a bitch decided to guilt trip me with "don't you like the brothers as they are now?" man I do but I don't belong here!! I don't mind helping them because I love them but I can't leave the present brothers as it is!

Anyways they also drop this and I am terrified of Nightbringer now.

Not ominous at all. They also fully confirm he's a demon, and that both mc and them want the same thing.

Edit: but, however, we should know better than to trust his word for it don't be like me kids. Again, still-a-morosexual-help brings good points about Nightbringer's identity.

Anyways after we fucked up big time in the Reaper's cave, we fall into a coma, or deep sleep because of the Rules right in front of the present brothers, Solomon and Thirteen. Thirteen can't do anything as she wasn't the one who put that rule in particular, and the last person we hear before passing out due to the curse is Mammon.

This whole lesson is about the brothers visiting us and talking to us as we sleep, and I loved it a lot. Well, we are asleep, sort of, but we can still hear them. Even if we try to reply to them, we can't. Our body is comatose, but we're aware of our surroundings. That's the best way I can put it, I suppose.

First one was Levi, who also says this and gives me whiplash about Solomon.

For me to be convinced that Solomon wanted us fully on his side without caring for our input, he'd have to pull something like "bring them to Cocytus Hall instead" but no, he sends us home, to the house full with our demon family. Deep down he must know how mc loves all of them, so the "choose humanity" thing just... What's he thinking, I wonder? We'll probably have a talk when we wake about it but not now as we're knocked out.

We find out form Levi that Diavolo forgave Beel. They probably looked into what drove him berserk. They don't tell us any specifics yet.

Anyways, we get a heart to sleeping heart with Levi. They're going for the throat of us who easily get teary-eyed. He's not one of my favs, but I like him anyways, especially here. He just wants to hang out with a friend. Or a date, depending on how you prefer to see it.

Next up is Satan. My man. I love him so much. He's reading to us, and he's reading "The Tale of Princess Kaguya", out of all the damn things to read.

He's also pretty honest about finding out we were human, because he missed the Great Revelation Moment. In Lesson 11 and the hard mode, we see him with Simeon and Luke and they decide to make dinner for everyone when they came back from the castle.

Apparently, he would've been really mad. But just like Luci (I suspect), he's mad about us lying, that there was a side that we kept to ourselves.

Just like the other brothers, he begs us to wake up, and I had a hard time not pressing the "I love you" option back, because I want to try going down Solo-Luci route, but Satan makes it hard for me as he's also my favourite, and here is where we see him at his most vulnerable. Anyhow, whoever is cutting onions needs to fucking stop. He just asks us to wake up.

Next brother to visit us is Beel, and you can tell it's him because:

Yup.

He tells us about the gifts and food the other brothers left on us on the bed. Asmo brought some cupcakes, Mammon some chocolate coins, Levi some choco figurines and Beel brought some buns. God I love them so much and I didn't forget we still didn't have our moment with Beel about his Falling, just like with the rest of the brothers, so I was ready for him to talk a bit about it, or at least hint about it happening soon.

There it is jdhgadsf he says not yet, though. Our favourite gentle giant says how he's always starving, that doesn't matter how much he eats, that it never goes away, that he can use our advice about this big secret of his. When we try to reply, he thinks he sees mc smile.

Next up is Mammon, who's running in to hide from some pandemonium going on outside caused by his brothers.

He's mad that we're asleep lol but that's his coping, I suppose. I can't help but wonder if they're all the same way back in the present.

And then, because the onion cutter has me on their hit list and knows my weakness, Mammon drops this shit:

Mammon says that with us, he feels like he can accomplish what he puts his mind into, like the Cerberus thing, and that he needs us, so if we decide to run off to the human world, he'll follow us up there.

Asmo's up next, and just like the rest of the brothers, he opens his heart a bit to mc as we sleep, telling the reason he paints his brothers' nails is so everyone can tell they're brothers. This is where I knew I'd fight any Asmo hater on sight.

Going the opposite of Mammon, Asmo says that after we wake up, if we want to go back, that he'll do everything to help us.

This is all after asking if we were like him after he arrived to the Devildom, if we secretly wanted to go back to the place we came from, and if we were sad, scared or lonely.

Y'ALL NEED TO STOP.

Then came Belphie, which was a surprise because I was not expecting him just yet...

He apologizes, you can tell it's hard on him. Despite how we started in og!OM I adore Belphie, so my mc would forgive him in a heartbeat.

Then he drops a bit of lore bit about Lilith, and how she thought both Angels and Demons looking to guide humans felt insulting to them. I shit you not. Lilith had the same thoughts as Solomon.

Belphie says that he thought her way of thinking was strange, but after hearing we gave back the grimoire to them, that he gets Lilith a little bit more. That humans aren't exactly helpless.

That 180 turn came faster than I expected it, but I'm not complaining. It's also the fact that he wasn't locked into the attic, so his anger didn't fester as much as it did in the og one, plus this time we did something greater that proved we were on their side.

Then Belphie falls asleep holding our hand.

Last, but not least, comes Luci. Just like Levi, he's stroking mc's hair. I actually confused them at first, I thought Luci was first in there hah.

He pulls a Mammon at first, pretending to be angry at us, the sleeping attendant who should be doing their job and has plenty of secrets, like us possessing his ring, but it falls off quickly as he starts talking about his own secrets instead, and it's one we know: that Lilith is still alive as a human, and it weighs on him that he can't tell his brothers.

He also talks a bit more about Lilith, which I appreciate. How she didn't listen to him (lol) and was pretty emotional and expressive. Plus, when he asked her about her love for a human trying to stop her, she told him he'd fall for someone one day and he'd understand her then. Ouch.

Also this.

Sweats in Simeon. Please, he's one of my favourites. Can't wait for shit to go down in present time about this, because my fav ending would be with Luci+Satan+Simeon. Simoen is actually human there though, so maybe they'll use that to skirt about the issue. I just like drama and angst anyways and I yearn to fight the whole Celestial Realm over our found family if needed.

Luci goes on a bit on how he believed love was beautiful, so he didn't exactly understand why their Father gave Lilith the biggest punishment (being casted out with no chance of being reborn/salvation), and by questioning Him, he brought disgrace upon his brothers.

Just like Asmo, he wonders if us keeping our humanity from them was a weight just as heavy as his own secret to his brothers.

Lucifer then gives mc a kiss, and here is when I wasn't sure if it was because I didn't choose the other brothers instead, or if he does it anyways and it's a free interpretation of where he places it. Could be in the forehead if you're feeling platonic. They didn't even give me an option, unlike with the other brothers. In all the previous visits, you could tell them that you loved them, or choose a more platonic option. I went full platonic with all of them because I wanted to choose the "I love you" option with Luci, but he just fucking skipped it and went for the kiss instead lmfao. I like him, so I can't complain, but for someone who prefers a more friendly option... well, I suppose it's why they didn't describe what he did, so it's a free interpretation. Like I said, could be a forehead kiss if you feel more like it.

Then the ring glows and here there be another cliffhanger. See you in 10 days (9 now lol), I suppose. Seems to be the pattern.

The extra lesson is about Beel going to talk to Belphie in their room, trying to get him to visit mc and apologize. I love the twins so much.

Since I was already late I also went and did hard mode, thinking it'd be about Solomon searching for a way to break the curse (Leviathan comments on it during his visit, but Solomon never comes over), but instead it's about Simeon, Luke and Satan watching as the demon brothers run home carrying a comatose mc in a panic. Oh joy.

Solomon nearly slips, too, almost calling the guest room "MC's room-". Simeon neutralizes the curse, but is unable to remove it. The brothers and Solomon vow to find a way to dispel it, "even if it means doing the impossible", I quote Solomon.

Luke, being the literal angel that he is when he's not hating demons, tries to lift the crestfallen mood by saying they got dinner ready with Satan. They all thank him, which I found adorable, but decides to stay with mc saying he "wants to talk". I assume it's the beginning before his visit, and it stops there.

o(-< I'm dead man. I loved the brothers telling us bits about themselves. At least this cliffhanger was a bit more bearable lmao....... and I'm in for the suffering, at least a little bit. Just a sprinkle.

I was a bit sad we didn't get a visit from the other side charas, but I'm confident we'll have our moment eventually. For now I wonder how we'll dodge the questions of where the fuck did we come from, and why do we have the ring? What did Solomon tell Simeon and "counted on him" back when leaving the house? o(-< WHO KNOWS??? "good luck finding out too" -solmare, probably.

Edit: LESSON 13 IS OOOOUUUUUUUUT

#Anne plays obey me! nightbringer #nightbringer spoilers #this lesson brought to you by the onion cutting man who is out to get all of us apparently #obey me! nightbringer #obey me!

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georgiapeach30513 · 1 year ago

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I have heard this theory. To me it’s almost a “wrangling” or “breaking of the woman” type deal. Oddly enough, when I wrote a dark Andy, this is exactly his approach

—

Can you please link me direct to this fic? 👀😅

Ooh…nonnie this is a long one. Read ALLLLL warnings, and I am not responsible for any character hate you may feel. Collect your barf bag before you get on this roller coaster. Have you some wine, an emotional support water bottle, and be prepared for whiplash.

This fic is by far the one I am most known for. It has every one of Chris’ characters up to Lloyd (we hadn’t even seen his look). Yes, even Buzz makes it in there. There’s multiple lovers, there’s secrets, scandals, toxicity galore, and it does get dark. You have been warned.

I am also working on another darkish Andy who is Fae and he is going to break his human.

#jen.txt

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nutteu · 1 year ago

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tomorrow is the fleeting smile on your bleeding lips [Chapter III]

[AO3 Chapter I] [AO3 Chapter II] [AO3 Chapter III] [moonsea series]

When Jake picked him up the next morning, Steven tried not to look like he was too guilty. Even Jake’s muscles clinging to his white shirt in all their galore weren’t enough to make his heart feel like it wasn’t squeezed thoroughly by gargantuan fingers.

Thankfully, Jake didn’t ask about the jacket. Though he did ask about the small wound on Steven’s lip. He just randomly said that he accidentally bit it when he ate, and though he looked like he didn’t believe the excuse, Jake didn’t push him.

They went to get breakfast as usual, and as they talked, Steven gradually relaxed. Perhaps, he’d still have time yet. He already put the jacket in the laundry place nearby before Jake came, picking the one-day service to avoid further suspicion from the man. He could return it tomorrow, no problem. He hoped that Jake also wouldn’t ask about why Steven would even bother with washing the jacket. He didn’t think he could survive the mortification of admitting that he jerked off while wearing it, and consequently got it dirty by his own come.

Jake probably wouldn’t hit him, but he’d still be weirded out and got the fuck outta Steven’s life faster than he desired. He didn’t want them to part in a bad term, however foolish that sentiment sounded, given that they were just sort-of-friends.

“Um, is the car fixed yet?” Steven suddenly asked as Jake sipped on his hot coffee.

Jake was silent for a moment as he put down the cup back on the table. “Almost,” he said, though it sounded careful. “Why? You need it soon? I thought I said that I can drive you to work and home.”

“Oh, no, no. Not that,” he hastily said, afraid that he had offended Jake in some ways without noticing. “It’s just that Marc is going back in tomorrow, and I really don’t want him finding out that I’ve broken his car yet again.”

This time, there was another familiar expression on Jake’s face, one that he had seen on Marc’s way too often. It was contempt and the start of violence brewing in those dark eyes. Steven didn’t quite understand why his words elicited such reaction. But, again, it didn’t seem to be directed at him, so he wasn’t particularly bothered by it—just confused.

“Ese cabrón,” he gritted out, seemingly lost in his thoughts and emotion that he didn’t even think about Steven, just sitting there witnessing it. “Se dio cuenta que más rápido de lo que pensaba.”

Steven blinked. “Uh, what?”

Jake seemed to be snapped out of whatever strange mood he was in, and smiled lightly at Steven. The change was really fast that it gave Steven a whiplash. “Nothing,” he said. “It’s not about you. Just Khonshu probably going to nag at me for prioritizing your car.”

“Oh!” he said, surprised and touched by what Jake had said. “Thank you, mate. That’s really sweet of you. Maybe try not get scolded too much by Khonshu, though.”

“Don’t worry about that, cariño,” Jake replied smoothly. It was another new pet name, it seemed. But Steven didn’t know what it meant, this time. He ought to remember it. It was short enough; he could search it on internet later. “Shall we go?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, looking down at his phone to check the time. “We can go now.”

“I’ll get your car fixed by tonight, so I might pick you up a bit late,” Jake side as he took the helmet from Steven. “Wait for me and don’t go anywhere, got that?”

Steven smiled and refrained himself from pointing out how similar to his brother Jake was being again. Jake really didn’t like being compared, to his brother especially, strangely enough. He had sensed that after the initial curiosity about Marc’s job, Jake had this… sort of resentment in the curl of his sneer whenever Steven talked about his older brother. Jake had hidden it well, but then again, Steven was used to observing Marc’s face, and both of them had the same habit of hiding their true emotions and thoughts. He noticed; he just didn’t say it out loud.

He waved at Jake and got inside, feeling very grateful that Jake was willing to help him so much. It would be such a waste to lose a friend like that. Perhaps… he could negotiate with Marc? Jake never did anything bad to him, and he seemed to like Steven enough to cater to his needs in the duration of their friendship. It’d take some time for Marc to warm up to the idea of letting someone he didn’t bring by himself to be Steven’s friend, and they’d probably get into another argument, but he was sure that he could wear Marc down, eventually. If Marc didn’t actually get angry and bring them both out of the country.

It happened before, in New York. It was the actual reason of them moving out, even if he didn’t tell Jake about it. Steven didn’t have anything to do but wait for Marc to go home, back then. So, he started walking around the block; not far enough to be worrying, but enough to lift up his mood as he enjoyed the bustling city around him. There was a florist shop near the apartment, and he frequented it often because the young lady who owned it was nice and would invite him for some herbal tea sometimes. They’d sit on the bench in front of the shop and just talked about the flowers. It was really nice.

Until Marc found out, that was.

The thing was, Steven agreed easily to not visit that shop again. He did say that he didn’t mind Marc chaining him to the bed, if it meant that his brother wouldn’t leave him, at all. And he hadn’t changed his mind, even to this day. But Marc insisted that they had to move. Steven knew, in an intuition that he developed over a lifetime spent with his brother, that his visit to the flower shop wasn’t the real reason of Marc’s agitation. But they packed their things that night regardless, and flew to Egypt the next morning. Steven didn’t even get to say goodbye to the florist, who was his only friend for almost a year he had stayed in New York.

They moved around quite a lot after that. But then Marc came home one day, looking exhausted yet relieved all at once, and embraced Steven so tight. “You said that you wanted to go to London, right? We can go there. Maybe stay for some time. We don’t have to move around that much anymore. How’s that sound, baby?”

He remembered grinning and hugging Marc back. The thought of them not having to move from one place to another all the time, and the high possibility of Marc not having to be away as much made him ecstatic—even if in the end, Marc still had to leave him a few weeks at a time. Still, Steven got the chance to properly integrate himself within the city, to find a job—after another argument, and Marc getting scolded by Layla quite thoroughly—and to actually live his life without having to say goodbye too soon to his surroundings.

He really hoped that Marc didn’t do the same thing this time. They had lived in London for almost a decade now. The apartment they got was quite nice, given Marc’s salary as a hired gun. But his brother still wanted an actual house, and a place he could retire to after his debt was repaid to whoever he owed it to. Steven wanted that too. It’d make his brother happy, and he’d be happy as well.

That night, he waited patiently for Jake, chattering with J.B and watching otter videos that the man liked so much. They were adorable, that was for sure, and entertaining enough that Steven didn’t realize that time had passed. They heard a knock on the glass separating the office from the hallways, and Steven looked up to see Jake smiling at him. He grinned and wished J.B a good night, before he skipped over to meet Jake.

“Did you wait for long, princess?” Jake asked as they got onto the bike.

“I didn’t notice,” he said, wrapping his arms around Jake. It was almost natural at this point, no embarrassment or hesitation whatsoever. “We watched quite a lot of baby otter videos.”

Jake hummed as he put on his own helmet. “You close with that security guy?”

“Not quite,” he admitted. “He’s nice to talk to, though. Even if he always got my name wrong.”

“Huh,” Jake said. “Nada de lo que preocuparse pues.”

“You can’t keep talking in Spanish if you’re not going to tell me what it means,” Steven complained.

Jake let out a chuckle and didn’t reply, just revved the engine and drove to the repair shop.

The place was empty when they got there, and Steven checked his phone and saw that it was indeed already past their closing time. He smiled warmly at Jake; the guy really did spend his extra time getting the car ready for Steven, even if he could just go home and didn’t bother with Steven’s plight. The man smiled back and led them inside after unlocking the garage, and putting his bike inside.

“Everything’s been changed and fixed,” he told Steven. “You can test it.”

“I’ll trust your word on that,” Steven said, laughing a little. “I wouldn’t know the difference, mate.”

“It’ll turn on, for one,” Jake replied, and Steven laughed harder.

“Yeah, alright, we can give it a test drive around here? If you’re okay with me taking more of your time, of course.” He opened the door to the driver’s seat and got inside. “Or, I can just test it myself, and if it’s good to go, I can immediately drive home.”

“Let’s go,” Jake said, got into the shotgun.

The engine started, and it purred, the rumble of the machine gentle and low. It already sounded so much better than what Steven usually dealt with. He backed the car out of the garage, and waited for Jake to lock it again before they drove around the block. It went quite smoothly, and there was a smug smile on Jake’s lips throughout the test drive when Steven kept praising him for such a well-done job.

When they returned to the repair shop, Steven was about to drop Jake off and bid him goodnight. But the man reminded him that he still left his jacket and bag on Jake’s bike. Besides, Jake wanted to check the car for one last time to make sure that there was nothing else he missed. Steven agreed, and they rolled into the garage once more, with Jake closing the door behind. He supposed it was to avoid people thinking that the shop was still open.

He was about to go out of the car, but Jake got inside again. He looked at the other man, still with a smile on his lips. “Didn’t you say you want to check the car again? Don’t you need to do it from the driver’s seat?”

“Where’s my jacket, little dove?”

Steven paused, eyes going wide for a fraction. He had thought that Jake wouldn’t bring it up. He fiddled with the steering wheel, and looked down at his legs, shaking up and down because he was jittery. He could just lie—or just omit a half-truth and said that he didn’t want to return it dirty with his sweat, so he put it in the laundry. But Jake was leaning forward over the gear stick, and peered at him. It was really hard to gather his thoughts with such sharp gaze trained at him.

“I, uh, it’s still in the laundry,” he said, voice small, refusing to look at Jake in fear that his thoughts would be read loud and clear on his face.

“Why?” Jake asked, terribly calm and composed. “I don’t mind you giving it back without washing it.”

He had to make a decision, quickly. So, he swallowed, and tried to remember how he lied straight to Marc’s face when he knew that the truth would just make his brother upset. He bit his lower lip, and shoved his hand between his legs, fiddling with his fingers, occasionally playing with the sleeves. “I got ketchup on it because I put it on the back of the couch, and I was eating there. I remembered that you hated ketchup, and that the jacket must have been your favorite. So- so I didn’t want to return it like that.”

Jake was still staring, and Steven thought that perhaps Jake wouldn’t be easily fooled. But then, the man spoke, and his voice was a tad scratchy as he said, “You remember that?”

“What?” he asked, a bit lost on the context.

“About me not liking ketchup,” Jake elaborated. “I only told you one time.”

“Well, of course I remember,” he said, almost defensively. “It’s you. I remember everything you said to me, except when you talked in Spanish. Including that time you told me you’re allergic to pollen, but you like daisies anyway because your mother used to plant it.” He stopped talking, realizing that he was oversharing, and flushed red. There was absolutely no need whatsoever for him to voluntarily expose himself and admit that he had been paying very close attention to Jake. “Um, I’m sorry if you’re weirded out by that. I didn’t mean to make you feel comfortable.”

“Why would I?” Jake asked, a little frown between his brows. “I like that you remember what I said.”

“Yeah, but some people don’t,” he said, then sighed, looking down at his fingers half-hidden by the sleeves of his sweater. “I tend to talk a lot, yeah? And I already told you that most people don’t appreciate me constantly taking their turn to talk. Some of them are also weirded out that I remember the details. I mean, I thought it was okay, since Marc has no problem with it. I didn’t think it’s something weird. But you see, some people accused me of being obsessive. So, I—yeah. I’m sorry if I made you feel the same.”

Jake didn’t say anything, and Steven swallowed. God, it was suddenly so stifling here. He waited but Jake still didn’t say anything, and he was too afraid of looking at the man. He expected pity there, or, worse, agreement. “It’s just that I don’t have a lot of friends, except for Marc and Layla. So, I tried my best to make them feel comfortable and paid attention to. I guess I tried too hard.”

There was a low growl, and Steven finally looked away from his hands. What he found on Jake’s face surprised him. There was anguish there, a sort of slow building anger that overtook his eyes, the tight clench of his jaw, and a sort of determination that made Steven at loss as to what he should do.

“They made you feel that way?” he asked, slowly; low and dangerous. “And your dear brother never did anything about it?”

“No!” he said, suddenly protective of Marc. Jake was startled for a moment with the vehemence in his voice, so Steven lowered it when he spoke again. “He loves me, of course he tried to make me feel better. But it’s just—he loves me. He will accept me no matter what. But I think that his logic can’t be applied to people in general, because they don’t love me the way Marc does. It’s just my own thoughts, and sometimes I can’t run away from them. Marc doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

“Lo sigues protegiendo como un tonto,” Jake said, and though his words were strange in Steven’ ears, he could hear the distaste. “Not all people think that way about you.”

“I know,” Steven said. “But those who aren’t, there must have been something about them that upsets Marc, because he usually told me to stop befriending them.”

That made Jake pause. He looked baffled. “And you don’t know what that thing is?”

“Not exactly a mind reader here, buddy,” Steven said dryly.

Jake shook his head, still in disbelief. “You’re too oblivious, do you know that?” he said, and leaned forward again. “You don’t know what people think when they see you, when they see you like this. It’s dangerous, Steven.”

It was rare for Jake to actually call him by his name. Steven felt a bit like he was being scolded. “I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “Probably think I’m a lame weirdo or something. I’m not exactly the most charming person out there, unlike you.” He offered a small smile to Jake, who looked exasperated instead.

“Cariño,” he said, taking ahold of Steven’s chin. “You really don’t know what I think about you? What I’m trying to do all this time?”

Steven parted his lips a little, trying to find his words. But he found that he was unable to. Not only because he wasn’t sure how to answer to that question, but also because of the heat slowly climbing into Jake’s eyes. In his pity-party, he didn’t realize just how far Jake had leaned towards him. The man was in his personal space again, and Steven couldn’t look away because of the hold on his chin.

“Making friends?” he asked, a bit unsure. God, he hoped that was the right answer because he’d be devastated if it turned out that Jake was just entertaining his foolish fantasy for a moment.

“Me pregunto cómo se está conteniendo todo este tiempo,” Jake breathed out with a chuckle, though his eyes were still on Steven, still looking at him with something that Steven finally realized as wonder. “You’re unbelievable, little dove.”

“Uh, I’m sorry?” he said, bewildered.

“You can’t see that I was trying so hard to impress you,” Jake said, as if he didn’t hear Steven, a marvel in his voice. He roved his eyes over Steven’s face, lingering for too long on his lips, before he looked him straight in the eyes again. “That I was trying to be closer to you, to hoard all of your time and attention. That I was trying to have you all for myself since the first time I ever laid my eyes on you.”

Steven’s breath hitched in his throat. Just like that, the fingers on his chin felt searing with heat, matching the one in Jake’s hooded eyes. He bit his trembling lip hard, trying to calm down. Did he hear it right or was he just being delusional? Did Jake feel the same desires as him, or was that only wishful thinking?

There was a thumb pulling at his lower lip and Steven was hit with a strong sense of déjà vu. This situation felt a lot like the first time Jake drove him home. Except, now, the car felt stifling with a different atmosphere than earlier, and Jake was much closer, and he was saying all these things that made Steven’s heart hammer against his ribs.

“Each time you do that, I keep losing a piece of my mind,” Jake whispered. “How someone so smart like you can be so oblivious to your own beauty is beyond my comprehension.”

He was completely at loss for words. The desires that he had tried to tamp down was slowly coming back, with vengeance this time. He felt the back of his neck and his cheeks heating up, his breath coming out faster than usual. It was suddenly hard to swallow, and he unconsciously tried to bite his lip again, only to be blocked by Jake’s thumb.

He released it quickly, as if he was burned. But he couldn’t move back because Jake tightened his hold. He was almost out of his seat, and the gear handle was probably digging painfully into his thigh. But he kept leaning closer, and Steven forgot how to breathe properly altogether.

He closed his eyes as Jake nosed around his cheek, inhaling deep as if he was trying to memorize how Steven smelled like. He didn’t lean in completely, didn’t close the almost nonexistent distance between their lips. He was trying to give him time to decide, Steven realized. He could back off now and he could go home, alone and stranded. Or he could just seize this chance and take what Jake had offered so openly to him.

“Please,” he whispered, and let out a sigh when Jake pulled away his thumb and cradled his face; finally, finally placing his lips on Steven’s, and kissed him as if there was no tomorrow left for them to walk on.

It was hard to breathe, but Steven savored the burn as Jake kept kissing him like a man lost in the desert, thirsty and desperate. The slide of their lips was firm and insistent, and Jake wasted no time in slipping his tongue into Steven’s mouth, pushing his own and licking every corner he could touch. He pulled at Steven’s tongue and sucked on it until Steven whined, fingers coming up to clutch at Jake’s broad shoulders, feeling the shift of muscles underneath his palms.

Jake kept taking, and taking, and taking and Steven was starting to get lightheaded from the lack of air. But he couldn’t stop kissing back, didn’t want to ever stop feeling Jake’s lips on his. Jake felt so wonderful, and his fingers framing Steven’s face made him feel grounded, made him feel safe, even if Jake seemed like he was about ready to devour Steven whole.

Jake pulled away one of his hands, and reached behind him. There was a faint click, and Steven gasped in surprise when the seat was pushed back. He grappled at Jake’s shoulders to keep himself balanced, briefly disconnecting the kiss to fully understand what was happening. Jake didn’t wait that long, however, he just slipped his palms underneath Steven’s thighs and maneuvered him to lay down on the seat, so he himself could cross and make himself comfortable between the parted legs.

Once Steven realized what Jake was about to do, he couldn’t help the small moan from slipping out, his fingers clenching tighter on Jake’s shoulders. The man shimmied a little, legs climbing down the seat to kneel on the floor of the car, his kisses trailing down all the while. Steven trembled, in pleasure and anticipation, as Jake nipped at the side of his hips, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. His brother wouldn’t like that, he would notice, but honestly, there was little that Steven could care about in this moment, when Jake palmed his cock through the pants, fingers toying with the zipper occasionally.

“Been wanting to do this for too long,” Jake said, voice full of reverence. “You didn’t know how much I wanted to just fuck you against this car that night, right in front of everyone, in front that guy who dared to look at you that way.”

Steven keened, high and desperate on the back of his throat. His hand moved to grasp at Jake’s curls, ones that he could reach, when the man nosed gently at his erection, inhaling deep and letting out a pleased sigh. Steven had never had anyone looking this excited to have him in their mouth. All he had ever done with someone else was just a quick handjob, or rutting against one another because they were racing against time, against Marc.

God, he loved his brother to hell and back, but he was really grateful that he wasn’t in town right now.

Because he didn’t want this to end, even if they had barely just started. He unconsciously bucked into the kiss Jake placed on his cock through the fabric, but strong hands kept his hips in place, and Steven whimpered when his need to have any touch on him became stronger.

“So impatient, princess,” Jake tsked, and, fuck, oh, fuck. He sounded exactly like Steven had imagine when lust overcame him. Rough and dangerous, husky and adoring. He sounded like he wanted to have everything Steven could offer, and more—everything. “We’ll get there soon, I promise. I’ll make you feel so good you’ll forget everything, including that brother of yours.”

Steven was already halfway out of his mind that he didn’t really comprehend what Jake was saying. He only understood that he would be touched soon. That calmed him down a little, though he had to hold back from gripping Jake’s hair tight in a show of impatience. He just really wanted Jake to do something, anything.

When his zipper was lowered, along with his pants and briefs, he let out a relieved sob. Jake kissed the inner of his thighs, soft before it turned biting, and Steven stuffed a fist into his mouth to prevent the litanies of moan falling out of his mouth. He sounded so needy and desperate enough as it was. He was afraid that Jake would be put off by how vocal he was.

And yet, as if sensing what he had thought, Jake leaned up a little to pull away his fist. “Don’t hold back,” he said gently. “I like hearing your voice. I want to you to moan as loud as you want. No one will bother us here, and if they dared to, I’ll kill them.”

Steven knew that that was something too extreme to say. But he was Marc’s brother. He had stopped feeling so squeamish and afraid of the premise of someone’s life in danger, or someone else threatening of homicide in front of him. Marc did that a lot, and Steven honestly didn’t know whether he really killed those people he disliked for mocking or making fun of Steven. They never stayed long enough in one place for him to ever find out.

So, he just nodded, and waited with bated breath as Jake gazed at him with approval clear in his eyes. The man then went back on his knees, wasting no time in licking a long stripe on Steven’s cock. He moaned at that, because he was allowed to, because he could. It was the first time someone ever touched him like this, and he was overwhelmed with even the barest of sensation.

“Jake,” he cried out, fists clenching and unclenching on the hem of his shirt. “Jake, please.”

“Dios mio,” Jake breathed out, voice a bit strangled. “You sound so pretty when you beg, little dove.”

Steven bit his lip, and struggled to propel himself forward, sitting up just enough to see Jake properly. His arms were trembling, but they were trying their best to hold him up. “Then touch me?” he asked, voice small. “I- I’ve wanted you to do this for so long, too. Wanted you to kiss me, to touch me. Your- your jacket—it didn’t get ketchup on it. I- I touched myself thinking of you, while wearing it. It got dirty afterwards. I’m sorry for lying.”

Jake closed his eyes and let out a noise as if he was hurt. He gripped Steven’s thighs hard enough for it to be painful. His eyes were sharp and burning, though his words were controlled as he said, “I’m going to suck you off, and I’m going to make you come. After that, I’m going to fuck you against your brother’s car until you can’t do anything but moan out my name. Understood?”

He nodded shakily, and promptly lurched forward when Jake suddenly took his cock into his mouth. It was too much, and not enough at the same time. Jake’s mouth was warm and wet, tight when he hollowed his cheeks, the tight grip of his throat felt so good that Steven had to bite back a sob. He faintly thought that it must have been uncomfortable for Jake, kneeling on such a small space like that. But he looked like as if he was enjoying it as much as Steven was.

His eyes were closed, long lashes fluttering as he hummed on the back of his throat, making Steven tremble all over from the sharp pleasure that spiked up from the vibration. He gagged a little each time he took the cock deep into his throat, but it didn’t stop him from swallowing Steven’s cock whole. He looked indecent, filthy; face flushed and lips stretched tight around the girth in his mouth, and Steven thought that he was unbelievably pretty like this.

He gripped the grab handle to sit up properly, so he could reach down and touch the side of Jake’s face, caressing gently. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “How did I ever get so lucky to have you?”

Jake moaned deep in his throat, and quickened his pace. Steven let out a low groan and threw back his head. There were constant streams of small noises pouring out of his lips; his fingers slipping back into Jake’s curls to alternately stroke and tug hard enough when Jake hollowed his cheeks, sucked the tip of his cock. When there were fingers coming up to fondle his scrotum, pressing lightly on his perineum, grazing against his hole, Steven knew that he was close.

He bucked into Jake’s mouth, making him choke and gag. But the sound only urged him on, and Jake didn’t pull off either. If anything, he pressed closer, hands leaving the base of Steven’s dick to grip the seat. Steven took this as a permission to fuck into Jake’s mouth, and he was too far gone to consider about being polite and gentle.

Because he was surrounded by such a warm, perfect place to fuck into, and Jake was letting him chase his pleasure, letting him have what he had been wanting. With one hand on the grab handle, the other gripping Jake’s hair, he started moving his hips, snapping hard and deep into Jake’s throat, movements frantic and desperate. God, he didn’t really have a comparison with anyone, but he thought that it couldn’t possibly feel as good if it wasn’t Jake.

It didn’t take long for him to reach his climax, stilling his hips and grunting low as he came down in spurts down Jake’s throat. The man didn’t pull away, instead, he put his palms on Steven’s hips and pulled him closer, as if he couldn’t get enough of what was given to him. There were tears clumping in Steven’s eyes without him realizing. He had never experienced such pleasure, and he truly felt like he was boneless to the core. He hoped that Jake was strong enough to hold him against the car later, because Steven felt like it was difficult enough to keep himself upright, let alone standing.

As he came down from the high, heaving deep breaths and pulling back his hips a little, he looked down at Jake again. The man was still licking at the tip of Steven’s cock, cleaning the leftover semen he couldn’t swallow. Strangely enough, he looked so endearing and Steven couldn’t help but to caress his face again.

When Jake let go, he came up with stiff legs to kiss Steven. The traces of semen were still there, bitter and musky, but Steven accepted it anyway when Jake pushed them into his mouth. The kiss was slow, languid, almost lazy. Steven pulled them down to lay on the seat when he couldn’t hold them both any longer. The feeling of Jake’s body covering his, leaning his entire weight on Steven, was comforting for a myriad of reasons he wasn’t ready yet to look into.

“Did it feel good?” Jake asked between the kissed, and the question warmed Steven’s chest. It was nice to be looked after.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Never done that with anyone, can’t really say I know how it’s supposed to feel. But it felt good, mostly because it’s you.”

Jake groaned into his mouth, and the kiss turned searing once again. Steven could feel Jake’s own erection pushing against his bare thigh, hard and prominent. He closed his eyes as his cock twitched, valiantly trying to get into hardness once again.

Jake reached behind him to open the door, and pulled back a little from the kiss. “You still okay with what I wanted?”

He smiled, and leaned up to peck the underside of Jake’s chin. “Absolutely,” he said with conviction, then grimaced. “I don’t think I can stand up, though.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, little dove,” Jake said, that easy smirk on his lips again. He went out of the car, and helped Steven afterward, holding him tight against broad chest as his legs wobbled. He guided Steven to step out of his pants completely, before he unbuckled his own with his free hand. There was that familiar grin on his lips when Steven sucked in a breath at the sight of his cock.

They stepped away a little so Jake could slam the door close, and pushed Steven’s back against the side of the car. There was a random thought crossing his head, and as Jake rummaged around his pocket to look for something, he blurted out, “The smell is going to stay.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “I’ll clean it, free of charge,” he said, in the tone of someone who would not clean the car. Steven was starting to think that Jake had something against Marc or something, because this would definitely rile up his brother.

As it turned out, Jake was looking for the condom and a small packet of lube, that he fished out of his wallet. Steven laughed a little at that, and Jake gave him an answering grin. He couldn’t really laugh for long when Jake ripped open the lube, though, and poured some on his fingers, safely depositing the condom on the roof of the car.

He hitched up one of Steven’s thighs, held it against his hip. He took the time to rub the lube between his fingers to warm it up, and Steven couldn’t help but to lean forward to kiss him. Jake had been nothing but considerate and attentive to him tonight, even going so far as prioritizing Steven’s pleasure over his own. That just made him even more infatuated, made him hope that Jake’s attention on him wouldn’t stop after tonight.

Yeah, definitely going head first into an argument with Marc.

“You did this often by yourself, sweetheart? Finger yourself open while you jerk off?” Jake asked, rubbing his fingers back and forth against Steven’s opening, just slightly pressing but never pushing in. His fingers were callused and strong, as expected.

“Kinda…” he said, then flushed. He thought that it should have been past the time of him being embarrassed, but evidently, he still had enough blood supply to color his cheeks red. “Did it when I touched myself the last time, while wearing your jacket.”

Jake let out a rough sigh, and leaned forward to nip and suck at the skin of Steven’s neck. His forefinger pushed in at last, staying there for a moment before he started thrusting it in and out slowly. Steven clutched at his arms, curling his leg around Jake’s hips. It felt so, so much better than his own fingers. Jake’s touch was assured, experienced, immediately honing in on Steven’s prostate when he moaned and pushed his hips back on the finger.

“M-more, please,” he stuttered out, and let out a pleased sigh when Jake complied immediately. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’m not going to break. You can- you can put in three.”

“Talk like that, and I’d skip the fingers altogether, baby,” Jake said, almost raggedly.

He must have been aching already, Steven thought, glancing down at Jake’s cock as the man inserted three fingers in him, setting a quicker pace than before, alternately thrusting and stretching him on them. The cock was already jutting out, rubbing against the inner side of Steven’s thigh, smearing precum on his skin. He was impressed with Jake’s restrain, honestly. He had held back for so long.

Out of instinct, he reached down to wrap his hand around Jake’s cock, shuddering when the man groaned low against the shell of his ear. The fingers were thrusting faster, rougher than before as Steven stroked the hard cock in his palm. It was slightly thicker than his own, with sparser pubic hair on the base, a bit curved. Steven wanted to taste it, suddenly, but he knew that Jake wanted something else—tonight, at least. The thought made him giddy with anticipation, that Jake might want to touch him.

“Can I suck you off next time?” he asked, just to make sure that he was allowed.

“Mierda,” Jake breathed out. “You’re killing me, little dove.”

“Sort of counterproductive, don’t you think?” he said, just to tease. He learned well from Jake. “Given that I need you alive to do it. As hot as you are, I’m not really into necrophilia.”

“Yeah, you definitely need a cock to shut that pretty mouth of yours,” Jake said, and it was Steven’s turn to mutter ‘fucking hell’ under his breath. The fingers were pulled out then, and Jake carefully lowered Steven’s leg down. “Hold on for a bit, baby,” he said, and quickly put on the condom. He didn’t fumble, and Steven tamped down his curiosity. Jake must have had enough experience. Steven tried to put on condom one time, thinking that it’d make less mess when he jerked off, and it took quite some time before he could do it properly.

“Um, yeah, definitely not the right time to say this,” he started, tilting his head left and right in a nervous gesture, biting the inside of his cheek. “But this will be the first time someone ever fuck me, so can you- can you start slow?”

Jake stared, mouth agape. There was a war between desires and incredulity on his face. “Why didn’t you say it sooner? I would have taken you to a more comfortable place.”

“I don’t mind here,” he said honestly. “I, um, I want to feel you holding me up when you fuck me.”

Jake swore and gripped the underside of Steven’s thighs again, but this time, he exerted enough strength to lift him off the ground. Steven flailed in surprise, palms gripping Jake’s shoulders, legs wrapping around a lean waist so he wouldn’t fall, even if he knew that Jake wouldn’t let that happen. Okay, yeah, definitely strong enough to hold him up. The feeling of the muscles straining under his touch was amazing. Maybe he should try forming his own; Jake’s and Marc’s looked so great, compared to his own flabby arms and stomach.

“Hold on tight,” Jake said, a familiar phrase, and pressed him harder against the car. Steven understood why when one of his hands pulled away to hold his cock, guiding it to Steven’s wet hole, dripping with lube, nicely stretched for Jake.

When the tip started to breach him, Steven let out an almost soundless moan, closing his eyes as he buried his face in the crook of Jake’s neck. It was much, much bigger than his fingers, hot and hard, the blunt head insistently pushing past the ring of muscles, inch by inch. Jake patiently waited for him as he caught his breath, only continued pushing in when Steven had calmed down a little. It wasn’t in completely yet, and Steven already felt so full.

Jake’s breaths were ragged, and Steven was so, so fond of him. He was trying his best to hold back, to be careful and mindful of Steven’s inexperience. He slowly pushed in again, and when he was fully seated, he let out a relieved sigh. His hand came back to hold Steven upright, easing the press of his back against the car.

“Okay?” he asked softly, smiling gently when Steven nodded, couldn’t trust himself with words just yet.

Steven felt like he was filled to the brim. Even through the condom, he could feel Jake’s cock twitching and pulsating with heat inside him. There was a slight burn around his hole, unused to things other than his fingers inside. It was overwhelming, to say the least, but not bad—definitely not bad.

Jake peppered kissed on the part of his face that wasn’t hidden, nosing on his curls to soothe him. Steven let out a small whimper when he shifted and the cock felt like it was in deeper than before. He tried to get used to the feeling, and looked up at Jake.

“I’m okay,” he said, trying to smile, yet failing when his lips opened in a moan as Jake tightened his grip, and the cock moved inside a little. “You can- you can move now. Please, move.”

“Alright,” Jake said, leaning in briefly for a kiss. “Alright, little dove.”

As he had promised, Jake started out slow; just a careful drag of his cock slowly pulling out, before he thrust in again. Even that made Steven breathless. The discomfort of feeling so full was slowly fading as Jake repeated the motion again and again. There was that sensation again, the wet warmth of something sliding out of him, just like when he pulled his fingers out. It was strangely pleasant.

When Steven was steady enough to lift his head and pulled Jake in for a kiss, the man experimentally quickened his pace, gauging Steven’s reaction all the while. He moaned into the kiss, but he was starting to get used to the sensation, starting to feel the building desires from the repetitive motion of a cock thrusting in and out of him.

“Good?” Jake asked, still so gentle that it nearly made Steven ache.

He bit his lip around a moan, and nodded. “Yeah—yeah, it feels good,” he stuttered out. Each thrust punched the breath out of his lungs, but he wasn’t lying. He had always known that it felt good to have something inside him, he was just not used to that something being this huge, stretching him open, pressing against his prostate even when it wasn’t moving. “You can go faster, if you want.”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Jake said with mirth in the midst of lust clouding his eyes.

Jake tightened his grip further on his thighs, and set a faster pace. His eyes were occasionally closed, lashes fluttering about prettily. Steven watched him, liking that Jake’s pleasure was so clear on his face. It made him feel good that he was the one who made Jake feel that way. Experimentally, he tried to bear down when Jake’s hips snapped up, and felt heat curl in his gut when the man let out a deep moan.

Jake wasn’t as loud as him, but he was definitely vocal in expressing his pleasure. So, Steven did it again, and Jake growled low in his throat. He pushed Steven back, and thrust in faster, harder than before. It brought a whole new level of the sensation. Steven felt like he couldn’t breathe from how good it felt, now that Jake wasn’t so careful, wasn’t so gentle anymore.

The frame of the window and the handle of the door was digging into his back, but Steven could care less about them when Jake pulled him in for a harsh kiss; all desperate tangle of tongues and nips of teeth on his lips. Steven couldn’t even muster the energy to hold himself upright, so he just leaned back and let Jake completely take his whole weight, arms loosely slung around the man’s neck.

When Jake pulled out until only the tip remained, and slowly pushed inside, only to stop at Steven’s prostate, and insistently pushing at it, he let out a high keen. His fingers immediately grabbed at Jake’s back for purchase as he was under the onslaught of too much, too much, more, more, more.

He didn’t realize he had been saying it loud. But Jake heard it clearly, and when he thrust inside, the snap of his hips wasn’t gentle at all. It was as if the dam had broken and all hell broke loose. Steven could only hold on for dear life as Jake finally took what he wanted, the way he wanted, just as he had promised. His cock was a heavy weight inside, a fast slide of heat that made Steven cry out Jake’s name in broken syllables.

Steven was aching, and his cock was completely hard again, trapped between their bodies. He was mindless with pleasure, from the feeling of Jake’s cock inside, from the friction of their torsos rubbing against his cock, from the bites Jake trailed down from his neck to his clavicle. Steven’s nails were raking marks on the man’s back, unable to find anything to counter the overwhelming desire to have more, to have everything Jake could give, to completely surrender under the glint in Jake’s eyes that he now finally understood.

It was pure, animalistic desires to possess, to own; to break Steven apart so Jake could piece him together again, inserting a piece of himself so deep inside, so that Steven wouldn’t be able to tell where Jake began and where he himself ended.

Steven found that he didn’t mind it, that he desired it.

“Don’t hold back,” he whispered into Jake’s ear, echoing the man’s earlier words. “I can take it. Everything that you’re willing to give.”

Jake let out a high-pitched moan, and bit down hard enough on the junction of Steven’s neck and shoulders to pierce the skin. Steven jolted from the pain that spread around the area, in shock upon finding that it only made him harder, made his toes curl in sheer pleasure. Jake noticed, and it only aided in making him set an almost punishing pace, thrusts unrelenting and ruthless. Steven faintly realized that he was screaming now, moans and litanies of Jake’s name.

“Te he estado buscando todos estos años,” Jake whispered, and despite the carnal desires, he sounded heartbroken for a moment. It was gone as fast as it came, as he continued, “Solo podía mirar, cuándo te tiene a ti, sólo para él. Nunca voy a dejarte ir. Ni ahora, ni nunca.”

If it was hard enough to understand what Jake was saying when he spoke in English, now that Steven couldn’t think of anything beyond the desires consuming him whole. When Jake spoke in his mother tongue, he didn’t even have enough mind left to ask what he meant. He only knew that Jake looked so assured, a glint in his eyes that was almost obsessive in its intensity. All he could reply with was another broken moan and the call of Jake’s name. The man really made good of his promise—Steven couldn’t think of anything but him right now.

“Pronto, mi vida, usted será mío,” Jake growled out, thrusts so rough that Steven had to clench tight to keep himself from outrightly pleading for the man to keep fucking him until the next week. “Mío y solo mío.”

He couldn’t understand a word, but Jake said the last sentence with such frightening devotion, as if he was promising something to Steven, and he was willing to give everything to make it true.

Steven came with an arch of his back, a choked-up scream leaving his lips. Jake kept fucking into him throughout his orgasm, chasing his own peak. Steven couldn’t even open his eyes from how satisfied, how good he felt to the point of oversensitivity. When he could catch his breath, and Jake’s hips had become erratic and less controlled than before, he lifted his trembling hands to cradle the man’s face, leaning in for a sloppy kiss that spoke of his fondness.

Jake stilled his hips, then, and Steven moaned weakly when he felt the man’s cock pulsating deep inside as he came. Jake’s eyes were closed, his muscles straining tight, breath slow and ragged as he rode out his climax. Steven kept kissing him, fingers caressing the side of Jake’s face gently. It took some time before Jake opened his eyes, a smile forming on his lips.

He slid out slowly, carefully, and Steven shivered as that warm, wet sensation hit him again. He liked it more than he thought. Jake pulled him closer by the hold on his thighs, and walked with stilted steps towards the bench. He sat down heavily, and let out a breath once he could lean back against the wall. No matter how strong he was, it must have taken a lot of energy to hold someone up for a long period of time like that, despite the assistance of the car.

He chuckled a little when Steven peppered his face with soft kisses, pulling his head back so he could find Steven’s lips and took him in a firm kiss. Steven closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of Jake’s lips against his, his tongue coaxing his mouth to open slightly so the man could lick inside. Their breathing was gradually calming, their chests no longer heaving as much. Once they separated, Jake pressed their foreheads together, a grin pulling at his lips.

He looked happy like this, like when he was around his friends—carefree and young, boyish and endearing. Steven couldn’t hold back the wave of fondness he felt for this man.

“Thank you,” he said, smiling softly. “I don’t think I can feel my legs anymore, but that was amazing.”

Jake barked out a laugh, sincere and ladened with joy. “Pretty good for a first time, eh?” he teased, then the mirth gentled into a soft smile. “Anything for you, little dove. Anything.”

“Anything?” Steven repeated, then pretended to ponder. “Including putting back my clothes on and driving me home? Because I honestly don’t think I can move any of my muscles right now.”

“You didn’t have to ask,” Jake told him, and Steven honest to God let out an embarrassing giggle at that. My God, all the things he made Steven feel—from desperation to shamelessness, from fondness to embarrassment of feeling like a teenager with Mount-Everest-sized crush.

The smile on Steven’s lips stayed as Jake cleaned them both after he got enough rest. He wrangled the clothes onto Steven, letting out a frustrating grunt when he refused to cooperate. He had just gotten his cock sucked, and his ass fucked six ways to Sunday—he was allowed to be a boneless, spoiled baby. Jake didn’t seem to mind much, anyway.

He was already nodding off by the time Jake got the car out of the garage, locked behind with Jake’s bike in it. He was right; the stench stayed in the car. But he was already overcome with fatigue and sleepiness, comfortable despite the ache in his backside from the bone-deep satisfaction running through his veins. He listened half-consciously as Jake hummed lowly to a vaguely familiar song.

He was asleep through most of the trip back to the apartment. When Jake shook him awake, they were already in the parking lot. Steven whined, and heard the man chuckle fondly at him. They went inside the apartment, ambling to the elevator with Jake keeping him upright by a hold on his waist, and Steven’s arm around his neck. He didn’t know how Jake could stay awake, when he was feeling like he was five seconds away from snoring.

Jake laughed when he groaned as he tried futilely to unlock the apartment. In the end, Jake took the key and punched in the passcode with Steven’s guidance, asking him to repeat himself a few times because his voice was so thick with sleep. The door was opened, at last, and they waddled inside, stopping briefly to lock the door again.

Jake brought him to the bed, and Steven let out a pleased sigh as soon as he hit the soft mattress. He curled on his side, eyes heavy and barely open when he heard a familiar clink. He strained to glance to where the sound came from, and found that Jake was holding his ankle restraint.

“For my sleep-walking,” he explained absentmindedly, so used to doing the same thing over and over again. “I use it when Marc isn’t home to hold me in my sleep.” Then he remembered that Marc was still not home, and he grunted as he got up with slight difficulty, taking the restraint from Jake and was about to put it around his ankle when a hand stopped him.

“What are you doing?” Jake asked.

“Putting it on? Because I wanna sleep?” he asked back, confused as to why it wasn’t obvious.

“You have someone to hold you in your sleep tonight,” Jake said, and Steven blinked.

“Oh,” he said dumbly. Then gave a crooked smile at the man. “Oh, yeah, right. You’re staying the night then, I take it?”

“What, you gonna kick me out as soon as you’re done with my body?” Jake teased, sitting down next to Steven and pushing away the ankle restraint from his hold. “You’re ruthless, cariño.”

“You’re a wanker,” Steven laughed, and scooted over a bit so Jake could have more space. “I’m sorry but I’m really sleepy. Can we lay down now?”

“Yeah, sure thing,” the man said, and pulled the duvet over and lay it down on them afterwards. He stretched an arm out, a silent invitation for Steven to get closer, and he did so happily. It was something familiar, because Marc did the same thing, too. He curled into Jake’s chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through the shirt, hearing his steady heartbeat next to his ear. “Good night, little dove.”

“G’night,” he mumbled, and closed his eyes, feeling so safe in Jake’s arms.

The last thing he thought before sleep claimed him, was about how he wasn’t running out of time, after all. Jake would still be there tomorrow, he was sure. Perhaps, the harmless little thing had turned around and bit him in the ass, but oh, how sweet the outcome was. He had never felt this way towards anyone, except maybe Marc, but that was given, because Steven never really learned how to love anyone as much as he loved Marc.

But, perhaps, he could start now, with Jake by his side.

As soon as Steven’s breath was steady, already falling deep into slumber, Jake looked down and couldn’t help the smile when he saw how serene the man looked. He was beautiful, always, but he looked so carefree, so peaceful in his sleep. Jake wanted to stay here forever, guarding his little dove from the cruel world.

He couldn’t believe that this finally happened, that he could have Steven in his arms. He had waited for so long, had been losing his mind the moment he placed his palm on the man’s shoulders. He was just so—perfect. And he’d be Jake’s, soon; his and his only, as he had promised to the man.

He could feel exhaustion starting to catch up to him, and having Steven’s warm weight leaning on him wasn’t helping either. But there was one thing he should do before he rested.

He fished out his phone from his pocket, and opened the camera. He made sure that it caught Steven’s face, partway hidden into his chest, and snapped a picture. He looked at it for a moment, smiling from how endearing the man looked. The real thing was much better, but the picture would be nice to look at when they couldn’t meet. Soon, that wouldn’t be a problem.

He wasn’t finished, however. He opened the messaging app, and typed in a number he had remembered for years, despite never saving it on his phone—the same number that he knew was in Steven’s phone, one that frequently messaged and called him. Jake sent the picture, along with a text that he knew would make the receiver’s blood boil in absolute fury. He put away the phone on the nightstand, and pulled Steven in closer, feeling at ease even if he knew there’d be a storm looming on the horizon.

[You let your guard down, hermano.]

#moon knight #shiki writes #from ao3 #jakesteven #marcsteven #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector #alternate universe #mechanic jake #moonsea

1 note · View note

infernalrevenge · 3 years ago

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Alright, playing off of the overprotective Heisenberg. What if Reader doesn't come back and when he does go looking they are injured badly?

Damn bro you're really going for hurt, huh? I love it HAHAHAHA let's go!!!! I'm making this a drabble, I think it would be better suited for this.

(TW violence in one paragraph, because I might have gotten a little carried away with how Karl saves Reader.)

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Heisenberg looked up at the digital clock above his work station, turning off his equipment and tools for a moment. The rain outside had just stopped, and you weren't back yet -- there were no familiar footsteps, no calling out for him to get work done and over with... nothing but the clanking noises and thrum of machinery.

You wouldn't be out for this long, not without telling him. Something was wrong.

He immediately ventured out into the forest behind his factory, calling for his lycans to send them out as a search party. Covered more ground that way, in case you got too far. Not that he thought you would up and leave him, no. He could think of worst things.

He strained to listen for anyone calling out for help, trying to ignore the pounding in his ears as worst case scenarios crept into his head. If all he could hear were the growls of those damn lycans, the leaves rustling in the wind, and the snap of a twig underneath his feet -- where did you fit in? Surely, you would've called out by now if you needed help. Surely... you wouldn't be...

No, now was not the time -- you were still out there. You had to be...

Almost lifeless, your torso trapped in the jaws of some damn Varcolac. That was how he found you, and he swore his blood had frozen over when he saw the life start to dim in your eyes. He might have imagined how you reached out for him just as he finally got his legs to move, smashing into the beast's side with his hammer and forcing them to drop you onto the muddy forest floor.

The rage boiling in his body burst out of him in that hard swing, grief and frustration driving him to make the animal pay for your suffering. It killed you. It fucking killed you! This thing was not going to escape alive.

If you ever asked, he couldn't tell you how much he enjoyed beating the wolf back and away from you while his lycans bit and chewed off chunks of muscle and flesh, hard pressed to find any that wasn't already smattered in blood. The crack of its bones brought a disgusting fit of satisfaction in him, and every pained growl and whimper from the pathetic thing only spurred him on even more.

He raised his weapon over his head, poised for another punishing blow, until...

"Karl..."

Somehow, your soft voice cut through the emotional whirlwind. "Y/N?"

He wasted no time in getting back to you, sheating his weapon back and kneeling down, completely in disbelief. He always knew you were a fighter -- damn well knew that you wouldn't back down on life this easily.

As the lycans behind him finished the job, he picked you up as gently as he could, words of comfort and assurance uttered with every pained gasp and whimper from your lips. If you were more aware, you might have caught Karl with tears streaking down his face.

Everything passed like a blur, slow like it was creeping up on you -- and yet when you were finally conscious it felt too fast. You could've sworn a second ago that a snarling Varcolac had cornered you on the way back to Heisenberg's. You barely heard how you screamed as a reflex over the overload of dread and panic that filled you all at once. To say it was a lot was an understatement.

But then, here you were -- exactly where you wanted to be. Well, things looked a little different. Your bedside table was occupied with bottles you never kept there, along with bandages and tape you don't remember ever using.

Your gaze shifted to the slumped figure sitting next to your bed, a hand laid over yours. It took more effort than you realized to tighten your hold over his hand, but even that was enough to jolt him awake.

Karl wasn't wearing his glasses. You could've sworn his eyes were shiny when he turned to look at you, seemingly in disbelief. He had been by your side for days, changing your bandages and calling a doctor in every so often to check up on you. He hardly gave a damn that some village commoner was allowed in his factory -- he wasn't going to take a chance when it came to you. Not again. You had to stay alive, you had to wake up eventually. He was prepared to wait weeks for you, months, years, however long it took.

He just needed you back.

Things were quiet between you for a while, Karl still in shock as he helped you sit up and offered you a glass of water for your dry throat. He was the first one to speak up.

"You've been out for a few days, in case you were wondering. It's Friday today."

You remembered going out into the village on Tuesday. You stayed quiet, trying to process all this new information, especially now that you were actually in the right headspace to.

You weren't really sure what to say, if you should say anything at all. He seemed to be at a loss too, you can't even begin to imagine what he must be feeling. Anger? Relief? An overwhelming mix of both?

"I'm... glad you're okay." But at least he managed to say something.

Were you supposed to say sorry, that you weren't more careful (you probably should have been)? Tell him you're glad to see him too (you were)? You knew you wanted to say something though...

"Is this the part where you say 'I told you so'?" you finally said, voice still hoarse, an edge of sarcasm in your soft tone.

Part of you would rather deflect from the trauma you just went through -- you basically just came out of a fucking coma. You ought to take things one step at a time. Right now, you really were just glad to be with Karl again.

Speaking of Karl... he seemed to be at a loss for words. His lover just woke up from what could have been a life-threatening experience -- no, it was a life-threatening experience -- and that's the first thing you say? He started blinking in confusion, mouth hung open, and you were tempted to reach out and close it for him and make some comment about catching flies. Instead, he started...

Chuckling.

"Oh yeah, absolutely, I told you to be fucking careful!" he replied, smug as ever. There's the Karl you knew.

You shoved at his arm weakly, "No, this is the part where you're supposed to say 'All that matters is that you're back and you're safe," you retorted with a small smile, making a poor impression of his voice and accent.

He huffed, shaking his head as he rolled his eyes. There's the Y/N he knew. Tears started rolling down his cheeks, barely even noticing it as he looked over you with such fondness and joy. You were alive, and here, and he wasn't sure what god out there made that happen but goddamn, it would have made a believer out of him if he knew.

"You need to rest up, alright, sugar?" He laid a gentle hand on your forehead, pushing your hair back and out of your eyes.

You gave a small nod and puckered your lips comically -- a silent plea for a kiss. The man only rolled his eyes and gave you a peck on the lips. "You won't leave, right?"

"No. Never."

#karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg #lord heisenberg x reader #lord heisenberg #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re8 #anon #inbox #drabble requests #i know the original prompt was f!reader but it wasnt specified here #so i figured i could use gn!reader here for this idea #wow it's like these two dont know how to deal with trauma and feelings #a match made in heaven #emotional whiplash galore

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matchstickdolly · 4 years ago

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Lucifer 5B: Cutting off Touch to Spite Your Fans

Spoiler warning: This post assumes you've watched all of Lucifer, season 5, part B.

CW: There's plenty I like about season 5, but this is a negative post. I know not everyone is up for negativity about the things they love. I also generally avoid it and (try to) keep my mouth shut about things I don’t like in most spaces. It’s good etiquette. But this is my space, and I have thoughts specifically about purity culture and the treatment of sexuality and trauma in fiction. You’ve been warned!

---

I'm a professional writer (not in TV). I've worked with enough bad clients, editors, and other writers to recognize some hallmark behaviors in how both Fox and Netflix gave Lucifer's writers incredibly difficult, unfair, and frankly weird situations to create through.

Fox did them dirty, interfering and ordering too many eps in S3. Netflix did them dirty, ordering 10 eps for S4 when it clearly needed ~13. Then Netflix ordered 10 "final" eps for S5—then, just kidding(!), 6 more after they'd done their writing for the 10. (What the fuck?) And then Netflix ordered 10 more for a "final-final" S6 after the writers had done their best to tell their whole story in S5. (MORE what the fuck.)

Talk about whiplash for creators, and half of those who consume content don't even care to understand such creative pain.

So, there are problems on multiple fronts. There's much I'll forgive writers, accordingly. I go into most shows expecting plotting/pacing issues. I look, instead, for characters and relationships that will triumph over those issues.

Heart is what the show Lucifer has always had in spades, both in its characters and in the immensely committed, wonderful ways the actors have tried to realize the characters' humor, love, trauma, and—most importantly—struggle to find healing. Yet, when given the opportunity to show health alongside another in a relationship, the writers/directors of 5B chose to remove most sexual humor and physical intimacy from their female lead and bi/pan characters to, I feel, sanitize them and troll fans. What happened?

Well, for one, say hi to showrunner Joe Henderson bragging about how the writers decided to be colossal dicks to the fans who helped secure their jobs:

From CBR's 'Lucifer Showrunner Joe Henderson Dissects Season 5B's Chaos'

Have we not suffered sidelined/repressed female characters, "bury your gays," and, oh, Chloe fucking a serial killer enough? Must we also say hello to neutered relationships once characters find stable love (whether same or opposite sex)? The result of withdrawing more sexual humor and physical intimacy from paired characters is an uncomfortable suggestion that they're reformed by "pure" love—more chaste and aloof, more acceptable in polite society. This is only done to end-game committed relationships.*

The writers seem to think they're edging the viewers, but the reality is they're taking traumatized minority characters who rejoiced in sexual freedom, but lacked and craved an emotional connection, and showing they can't have both, or, if they find both, it will never last. They've taken hypersexual characters and said, here, even they can have the love and commitment they desire, but some physical intimacy, especially sexual intimacy, is what they must trade for it.

There's always one more case, phone call, or coincidence interrupting intimacy. Traumas or deaths deserving emotional and physical comfort go on to receive none or only one aspect. Done sometimes, it's fine. Done always, it's sick. Dan dies, and there's no hugging? Really?†

Don't craft characters who crave a full range of emotional and physical intimacy, only to rob them of related scenes every chance you get. That's not complexity. That's bad writing. To even achieve this in 5B, they must squash banter and sideline their female lead yet again.

What a gift to purity culture, which tells us to be more palatable by bottling and buttoning up. That sex should be taboo, but violence glorified. That there is no heated desire among "Good Women," that sexual minorities of all genders shouldn't experience it much at all.

5A is so good. At the very least, it's on the right path (clearly, since the plot payoff from 5x01 to 5x16 is great). It shows a couple working through difficulties and trauma, toward each other emotionally and physically. It even pokes fun at people who think an established relationship means the death of romantic and sexual appeal (a tired and hugely sexist trope). And then... And then 5B reverses that, pretending established relationships are barely physical during emotional struggle and that the honeymoon phase doesn't exist. It robs characters of joy and comfort through physical intimacy when they need it to move through or push beyond trauma.

It's telling that so many fan wishes for Deckerstar are about healing touch and existing in each other's spaces: amending Chloe's spicy PDA history with Cain, Chloe caring for Lucifer's wings, soft family scenes a la Monopoly night and shared meals, morning-afters, etc. Reasonable fans aren't asking for porn; they're asking for connection and humanity. They're asking for writers not to forget characters (and, yes, including hypersexual characters) on their way from Point A to Point B.

That 5B lacks these things isn't a "tee-hee frustrating" slow burn or a cockblock. It is, in so many scenes, excising from characters a core part of what nearly every human and fictional monster craves. And it's a slap in the face to the "found family" trope. When you remove or tamp down a casual physical intimacy that was previously there, characters and their relationships fall flat, even if only partially. They become blunt weapons creators wield against watchers or readers begging for scraps of warmth.

Minorities shouldn't be killed off with ease, and they shouldn't be stifled with ease, either.‡ And maybe there shouldn't be deep trauma driving a wedge in a romantic relationship if you're not going to explore it through that relationship, too—physical intimacy included.

I'm still reserving some judgment. I loved the family drama and the end. (Although, again, where was the physical intimacy? No intimacy when Chloe or Lucifer return from the dead? Really?) I see where they could do awesome things, and could have done more if not for network BS.

But I no longer trust Lucifer's writers and directors. They thought S5 was the end. And what they gave us of Deckerstar, of the relationship that symbolizes health and healing in their fictional world, is this: cold distance. And they got a kick out of doing it, apparently.

If this is a "love letter" to me as a fan, I'm burning it. I can only hope S6 course corrects. If not, the writers who made these choices shouldn't write sexual minority and/or traumatized characters again. If you don't understand most of us, you should stop fucking using us.

---

* If you don't believe me about the differences between casual/short-term relationships and end-game relationships in Lucifer, go back and look at how Lucifer and Maze are with strangers in all the other seasons. Look at Chloe's sex dream, her propositioning of Lucifer in a library, her sex with Pierce in the evidence closet. Look at how much physical intimacy there is between Lucifer and Eve, and then between Eve and Maze (if only as a ploy). Across seasons, there are sex/kink jokes and scenes galore.

Compare this to how these same characters are portrayed when with their end-game loves. Notice the gentle pecks on the lips and the huge general drop in sexual humor between 5A and 5B. How boring. Where's the spice these characters had? Also, give me a damn break. Buttoning up in a relationship is contrary to four and a half seasons of emotional character work that's been communicating security in our relationships is personally freeing.

† I'm not just talking about sexual intimacy in this post, though that is a big part of it because of the characters. 5B lacked crucial found family scenes, too.

Chloe should have been at God's family dinner, but being so would have prevented more ham-fisted angst. Chloe never even has a one-on-one with God, probably because that would demand a straight answer about her miracle status, which I would guess will be used to drive yet another wedge between her and Lucifer next season, but we'll see.

In multiple before- and after-work scenes, there was no reason for Lucifer and Chloe to be apart more, even, than they were in S1 and S2. Monopoly night was in S3, for crying out loud. Most horrifying of all? No one touches Chloe after Dan's death, but Trixie. Meanwhile, Linda, Amenadiel, Ella, Maze, and Lucifer all receive physical comfort. No wonder Chloe's tired of being strong.

‡ If you don't think it's offensive that they stuffed all their wlw content for two hypersexual characters into a few clunky, irrational, and chaste scenes that rushed I love yous, a marriage-like proposal, and the mention of soulmates, I don't know what to tell you other than get off my lawn.

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khtrinityftw · 4 years ago

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Honest KH2 Critique

I wanna talk about Kingdom Hearts II since we're quickly approaching it's 15th anniversary. Ever since it was released, it's become a game that people irritatingly refuse to be moderate over, or at least when it comes to the vocal fans online. People who love it don't love it so much as worship it, while people who hate it don't hate it so much as despise it with every fiber of their being. I may technically fall into the "love" category (I share the majority fan and critic view that KH2, especially it's Final Mix edition, is the best game in the series), but I'm also willing to look at both its good and its bad, and do so in moderation rather than hyperbolically.

And I know, without a doubt - Kingdom Hearts II...has the absolute worst-written story out of the KH Trinity!

OK, that was said hyperbolically, but I did so as a joke!

It's so weird that the original Kingdom Hearts and Chain of Memories have narratives that are deeply and thoughtfully structured with such care and consistency, and then the trilogy is rounded out by such a messily-written rollercoaster of quality!

.....Well, all right, maybe not that weird.

When interviewed shortly after KH2's first public reveal at the 2003 Tokyo Game Show, this is how Tetsuya Nomura described the process for writing the game's story: "I'm writing the plot, the main story of Sora and co. Other people are in charge of the plots for the events that will happen in each Disney world. Combining that with Nojima, we're completing one scenario."

The "other people" in question are the Event team: Masaru Oka, Ryo Tsurumaki, Michio Matsuura, Atsuko Ishikura, Yukari Ishida, and Kumiko Takahashi. Daisuke Watanabe and Harunori Sakemi also assisted Nojima with scenario writing whenever the need arose.

The problem that this process caused isn't apparent at first glance, but it's actually right there in that interview excerpt: "I'm writing the plot". In KH and CoM, Nomura only wrote the initial plot outlines, which were very simple and ripe for being fleshed out by the actual scenario writer. There's a big difference between that and writing a full-fledged plot the way he did here.

Nomura wrote the story for what transpires in the KH-original worlds: Twilight Town, Hollow Bastion, the World That Never Was and Destiny Islands. It goes like this:

As far as plots go, I actually really like this one. It's a strong plot.

It's also convoluted as Hell.

I made a post saying the three one-word convoluted elements of KH2's plot are "Nobodies", "Data", and "Ansem". All three of those are literally the cornerstones of this plot that Nomura cooked up: they play a huge role through the beginning, middle and end! Because Nomura had more power with making this game, none of the more...out-there stuff that these concepts created could be curbed or removed. Which means that the scenario writer had better be in tune with Nomura when it comes to presenting them in a coherent way.

For the most part, Kazushige Nojima was....not.

Here is a tell-tale sign that Nomura and Nojima were not in sync. When asked if he planned from the start to make Kingdom Hearts be the heart-shaped moon seen on the cover of the original game, Nomura replied "No, I didn't. I asked Nojima-san to write the scenario and in his scenario it was written that the Kingdom Hearts Xemnas created is 'like a moon that floats in the World that Never Was'. When I read that, I thought ‘’Oh, this can be connected!’’"

Nomura just admitted that Nojima essentially had to make up how to convey Xemnas harnessing and trying to complete Kingdom Hearts, because Nomura's plot did nothing to convey it. It was a "wait, how the fuck is he doing that!?" detail. And you really get the sense all throughout the scenario that Nojima is struggling with trying to convey Nomura's stuff, and he has said as much in interviews: Nomura's plot and concepts confused him.

It also doesn't help that Nojima was the least major scenario writer on the original KH, mainly limited to the co-creation of Ansem with Nomura and writing the entire End of the World section. This is probably why Xemnas and Ansem the Wise are clearly the KH-original characters with the most confidence and complexity behind their writing in KH2's scenario. Nojima writes Sora, Kairi, their Nobodies Roxas and Namine, and Riku far more simplistically and trope-y, and the other Organization members and trio of Hayner, Pence and Olette are side characters so naturally they don't get much depth.

Then there's Masaru Oka and his Event Team. First off, while Masaru Oka is definitely on Nomura's wavelength and understands his vision to a fault, as Event Director he is superbly mediocre at presenting that vision, or Nojima's for that matter. He just isn't cinematically inclined the way Jun Akiyama was in the original KH, and that leads to the event scenes usually being the barest minimum of adequate at best, and laughably awkward at worst.

Secondly, Oka and his team were responsible for creating the plots in the Disney worlds (hence Oka's credit alongside Nomura under "Base Story"). But not only were they frequently lazy and just directly rehashed the movie's story but with Sora, Donald, Goofy and the Heartless shoved in, but half of the time they didn't even bother connecting the world plots to Nomura's main plot in any meaningful way beyond thematically ala CoM, and neither Nomura nor Nojima seemed keen on correcting this even when they really should have.

Here is a chart displaying the game's flow, stage by stage as set by world battle level. Stages where the main plot is progressed in some way are bolded, and stages of the main plot as created by Nomura have red borders around them:

Aside from Space Paranoids which was part of Nomura's plot from the get-go, the only time where correlation with the main plot occurs without any side factor to note is Beast's Castle, where both visits feature the machinations of Organization member Xaldin and culminates in the boss battle against him that leads to his demise.

Olympus Coliseum correlates to the main plot in the first visit but not the second, although the second visit is now made plot-relevant due to tying up loose ends from the first. Port Royal correlates to the main plot in the second visit but not the first, although the first visit is now made plot-relevant due to setting the stage for the second (it also has Larxene's Absent Silhouette in FM). There is technically a main plot correlation in the second visits to the Land of Dragons and Agrabah (the latter of which has Vexen's Absent Silhouette in FM), but Nojima botched the writing of them to the point where there may as well not have been, especially in the case of Agrabah’s which is "oh btw, an Organization XIII member came by off-screen".

And then there's the case of Disney Castle / Timeless River, which only acquires relevance to the main plot because it was decided that Maleficent should be resurrected and be Pete's boss in the present time. And unlike her appearance in Halloween Town, her role in this stage correlates directly to her role in the main story, revealing her resurrection to the heroes and establishing that she seeks a new evil stronghold from which to advance her return to power. Pete's backstory and connection to King Mickey shown here also receives a direct reference toward the climax of the World That Never Was.

While it could be argued that there's additional value in the first visits to Port Royal, Agrabah, Halloween Town and Pride Land due to the presence of Pete (Maleficent when it comes to Halloween Town), I would have to disagree because nothing they actually do in these stages end up mattering to the main story whatsoever - especially in Pride Land, where Pete just shows up in lion form to say “Ooga Booga Booga!”. Their presence alone just ain't enough.

The consequence here is that for the continuous stretch of Port Royal in the first go-round, Olympus Coliseum in the second, and Agrabah, Halloween Town and Pride Land in both go-rounds, it feels like nothing is advancing. And as bad as that sounds on paper, it's even worse when applied to gameplay because it means this lasts for several hours straight! The only main plot event that happens in either cycles is Kairi going to Twilight Town, which happens in a sudden cutscene between Agrabah and Halloween Town and is thus totally out of the player's control!

To sum things up, Nomura wrote a main plot that was good but too overwrought with confusing and complicated details. Nojima is a highly talented writer, but he didn't fully get Nomura's vision. Oka gets Nomura's vision, but he isn't a highly talented Event Director (and as seen in later games, he has even less talent as a writer) and often portrayed scenes that Nomura or Nojima came up with flatly. And none of these men were in sync when it came to how the Disney world plots and the main plot would connect, often simply not caring or else just not trying hard enough.

That is why KH2 has the weakest writing in the KH Trinity: the primary creative voices that shaped the story were completely out of sync with one another on a regular basis. You could say that their hearts just didn't connect on this project. And as a result, we have blatant inconsistences, bad edit jobs, pacing problems, mood whiplashes, missed opportunities, and dumbass moments galore.

However, on the occasions where things between them did manage to sync up, we were given some of the highest points in not only the KH Trinity but the entire KH series, and the input that was given from Daisuke Watanabe, Harunori Sakemi, and others like production assistant (and major Disney fanatic) Eri Morimoto surely helped the messy story become not quite as big a mess as it could have been otherwise. And that story still stayed true to the series' roots as a whimsical Disney/FF crossover project driven by relatable characters and emotional resonance, as opposed to a vanity project for Nomura that is driven by perplexing lore, plot twists and mystery boxes.

And that's why I and so many others love KH2, warts and all, and would gladly take dozens more narrative messes just like it over the different, far less enjoyable kinds of narrative messes that we've been getting afterward.

#Kingdom Hearts II #Anti-Nomura #Anti-Series Beyond

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zankivich · 5 years ago

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The Arrangement: CEO’s Son/Dom!Shawn x Black Sub Reader Chapter 4

a/n: hi I'm back! Please don’t hate me tbh. The semester is off to a crazy start for me already, I don't think Senior year is gonna go down without a fight. I’m really excited for these babies tbh. Shit’s about to get real so strap yourself in tight!!!!!

WARNINGS: deep throating, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), restraints, general Dom-ness?

*y/n’s point of view*

The only good thing about bougie ass dinners with industry people is playing dress up. Nothing else good could come out of a bunch of rich people throwing themselves a dinner to network and do a raffle for charity so that no one notices how pointless the dinner was. New York was notorious for them. More so than even LA maybe. But, however much you hated them wasn’t going to stop you from attending. It was important for the company that you go. You figured a little pampering session was the least that you deserved.

Somewhere along the line you stopped having to visit beauty shops with black plastic bags that contained your hair for the event. At some point a hair stylist started showing up at your apartment. You stopped paying in cash and started having Tiana pay the bill. Things had changed a lot actually. But the quality of your hair? Sis, that was a standard that must be improved upon and maintained.

One cannot imagine the power of a lacefront until it has adorned your head. Think Beyonce on stage with the jet of a thousand fans whooshing through her hair. Only without the networth or discography. Tonight you were going for something a little unorthodox, a little outside of your comfort zone. Purple to be exact. But not just any purple. It was this rich, vibrant shade of purple. The roots started out black which made it a little more natural looking and this beautiful wig was sitting at twenty-six inches long meaning you were finna be looking GWOOD. Yes with the ‘w’, too.

“Ooooooo child! Would you look at me?! Where did she come from looking so pretty? Sheesh!” You cackled at the mirror.

Tiana laughed right along with you as your stylist did some finishing touches to make sure your wig was glued for the rest of the night.

“If you’re done loving on yourself we gotta get you into your dress and make up in less than thirty minutes.”

“Oh shit, girl why didn’t you say somethin’?”

Tiana just rolled her eyes. She had said something. At least three times. Woops.

Your dress for the evening was one of those dresses that one didn’t get to eat meals in because any added weight might make the zipper burst. Usually you were a flowly type of gal, a fuck the patriarchy type of gal. But the dress was silk and free so like...just this once.

In the car to the event, you work on emails for your artists, while Tiana works on emails for you. You were probably moving in the direction of needing to hire more bodies, hell you knew your clients were pulling in enough work on their own, but it was hard to give up the duo, the dream team. You craved the intimacy of having your best friend with you always, and you weren’t ready to let anyone else invade that space yet.

“Can we leave this thing early and go get burger king or somethin’?” You whined leaning on her shoulder.

Tiana, never one to be out done, was in her own outfit for the night. It was a sparkly beaded dress with extremely intricate detailing on the bodice. She was thicker than even you were, boobs and ass and thighs galore with a tummy to match that she was just as proud of. All of this exquisite body was draped for the gods that night, the way that she deserved. Her hair remained natural for the night but tied up into these beautiful knots in a row of three on her head. She was beautiful and perfect. You loved her infinitely.

She snorted softly. “We have to stay until at least dessert has been served. But I see no reason not to hit up some food afterwards.”

“How tipsy can I be and still get away with it tonight?”

“Hmm...I think if you do more than four vodka-crans you might start asking people if their families owned slaves.”

You purse your lips in annoyance. “But that’s my favorite question! I never get to have fun. Shit.”

Post the whole hitting number one on Forbes 30 under 30 list, you had to start doing the whole red carpet thing. Cameras weren’t your favorite, and you liked the flash of them even less. However, Black Women didn’t exactly get to the position you were in very often, and so you’d smile and pose a little if it meant some little black girl from queens sitting at home might see it and create the thought in her head that she could get there to. Cause she needed to. There needed to be more. It wasn’t even an option.

It’s on that red carpet that you see him. Why it had never occurred to you that he would be there you weren’t quite sure. But it didn’t. And you were left floundering in the middle of a million cameras as you witnessed your fuck buddy walk out in a deep maroon, red suit like the goddamn devil he was. You bit your lip as he ran his fingers through his hair and slid his hand into the pocket of his perfectly tight pants while he smoldered for the camera. Jesus.

“Bitch you are making dick sucking eyes in the middle of this red carpet! Get. It. Together.” Tianan hissed in your ear.

“I--I am so sorry. I’m together. Together. I promise.” You whispered.

You cleared your face, teeth resetting into your famous smile. Your fingers rested on your thigh and hip for that perfect pose. Maybe you settled your hair a little more over your shoulder. The photographers were impressed, as they should be, and called for a little more action. There’s no way you let your eyes roam over to see if he was staring. There was no need. You could feel the heat in which he stared, nearly felt the zipper on the back of your dress come undone with it. Hmmm. Sounds about right. Men, so obvious.

Eventually you turned to let Tiana lead you to the next section of carpet. Unfortunately there was nowhere else to turn. He was there. Hair perfectly nestled into a curly disarray. You didn’t miss the way he licked his lips as you walked closer. There’s no way the cameras missed it either.

“Y/n!” He called, the cocky asshole. “Let’s get a picture.”

Your eyes widened and you turned to Tiana for assistance, only for her to shrug.

“There’s technically no reason to say no.”

And that is how you found yourself in the middle of a red carpet, his fingers burning against your hip as you both smiled for the cameras.

“We are in public.” You hissed through clenched, but smiling, teeth. “Please act like it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of acting differently.” He grinned, fingers digging a little more firmer against your skin. “But uh, you taking this dress off in my apartment later or is that my job?”

You went to throw your hair over your shoulder again and took the time to subtly and smoothly ram your elbow into his side.

“Ouch. Dammit, y/n.”

You smiled. “I must be moving on. Have a lovely time, sweetheart.”

His eyes travel over your back and down to your ass as you walk away. Again, you don’t need to look to know it. You were a fucking dream.

The inside is just as schmoozy and annoying as ever. There’s some violin, harp type shit. There’s a cocktail hour. Half of the audience looks ready to keel over. And yet here your black ass was having to deal with it all. Rude. But like always you and Tiana made the most of it.

She led you through the throngs of people stopping you when it was necessary to shake hands and kiss cheeks. Tiana understood just as you did, that as annoying as it was, these nights were extremely necessary. The better you fit into the crowd here, the more leverage you had to buck the system in your daily job. And you loved bucking the system.

By the time the cocktail hour had ended you had all but forgotten about Shawn and that godforsaken suit. It isn’t until Tiana and you head for your table for the dinner that you catch sight of a head of hair that didn't look nearly as good as when your fingers were tugging at it. He’s leaning on the chair of some other woman, blonder and thinner and so your opposite that it must give the man whiplash. But that’s fine. It’s not like you’re exclusive, not like you’re dating at all. You don’t care at all.

There’s a glass of champagne in your hand and you keep your body turned entirely the opposite way of his, so as to not intrude on his conversation. Tiana gives you a little helpless smile as if she isn’t sure whether this means anything to your or not. But, it doesn’t.

“I’m fine.” You assure her hand reaching to touch her arm. “Now don’t let me drink more than six of these.”

“Four. We said four sis.” She snorted.

You shrugged your shoulder. “Ti, we gotta let loose every now and again. We deserve it.”

“It’s my job to make sure you don’t regret it in the morning.” She noted.

“Nah, fuck that. You work practically twenty-four, seven for me, Ti. I know we’re best friends but like...take the night off. Drink. Eat. Relax. Find someone to go home with. You deserve it, okay? I’m serious.”

Her playful grin dipped into a genuine smile. You were ride or dies for a reason.

She leaned closer and settled your hair more perfectly along your shoulder as a guise to whisper in your ear.

“It’s okay if it bothers you, ya know? Like you’re entitled to your emotions.” She breathed.

Your eyes widened over her shoulder as the only person in the world with the ability to catch you slipping caught your ass like a fish out of water.

“I--It doesn’t.” You mumbled. “I’m not bothered at all.”

“Okay. That’s okay too. I just want you to know that if there’s anyone in the world you could maybe share that with if you were feeling it, that that would be me okay?”

You smiled softly. “I know. I do. Thank you. I’ll be fine okay? Don’t worry about me.”

“So what...I’m just supposed to go to the bar? Get a drink?” She giggled.

“Yes, bitch. Get several, okay? Put it on my tab. Stop worrying about me. You worry more than my mama does and she worries enough for all of us.”

You pulled her easily into your arms for a hug and a kiss before swatting her on her ass to get her to leave. Behind every successful Black Woman is always another Black Woman itching to see her succeed. Well sometimes success needs to come with some time off. What better night to give her some?

The problem arose that once you sent Tiana off to live her best life, you were still stuck at a table with a whole bunch of people you didn’t know. Except for Shawn. Who you could definitely feel staring at you as you took a sip of champagne. You flicked your hair like an elegant curtain over your shoulder, still facing away from him. Perhaps you had forgotten the kind of guy that he was, that taking no’s or subtleties weren’t exactly in his wheelhouse. It was hot in the bedroom, and annoyingly inconvenient everywhere else.

“So are we just pretending we don’t know each other?” He asked throwing his arm around the back of your chair. “Just wanna know how I’m meant to play it.”

You rolled your eyes in the opposite of his direction.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just sitting here waiting for this unseasoned ass meal to begin.”

He chuckled. “You are about as subtle as a bus to the forehead. You realize that, right?”

Unable to ignore the emotion that fluttered in your stomach, something that was unnamable to you even then, you turned to face him. His chair was directly next to yours, his arm draped casually against the back of your chair with ease. His hair was still just as perfect, if not a little more tugged into submission from the last time you saw him. He was grinning at you and eyeing your lips even now. As if it was a game that you’d lost before you’d even knew you were playing.

“What exactly is that supposed to mean?” You asked.

“I just couldn’t help but notice the glare you sent my way when I was talking to Natasha earlier.”

“Natasha.” You snorted. “Who the hell is Natasha?”

“Funny...She’s just an associate alright? Works for my dad.” He hummed, lips practically at your ear.

You barely sniffed in his direction. “Is that so?”

“It is.”

“Mhm. And why do you feel so inclined to assure me of that huh? Or is that you being subtle?”

He rolled his eyes at you, a playful little smirk upon his lips. You didn’t like him. You didn’t like him one bit. He drove you crazy.

The chatter of the room dimmed slightly as the food finally began to arrive to the tables. Shawn didn’t move his arm from around your chair. In fact as the waiter began to doll out plates to your table, he leaned in even more, let his lips rest against your ear like there was no one in the room but the two of you.

“Doesn’t quite matter who I talk to does it? No one’s my good little girl like you.” He whispered.

Your eyes fluttered over to him before looking aimlessly anywhere else. Your champagne glass. The silverware. The old man across from you who looked like he was wearing a toupee from the 70’s. The party moved seamlessly around the two of you, but you couldn’t help but look for eyes that might be on you. Shawn didn’t seem the least bit interested in doing anything besides driving you mad. He never seemed to be worried about much of anything. You both envied it and were annoyed by it. It didn’t stop your legs from crossing tighter, or your spine from straightening now did it?

“Not tonight.” You sighed. “Not here.”

He released a hum that you’d only ever heard in the bedroom. It was one of disapproval, one of challenge. He hated when he didn’t get his way, and this was you denying him on the thing he wanted most in that very moment. You.

“After. My place isn’t far.”

The waiter finally got to the two of you placing your dishes before you. Something that resembled a dry ass piece of chicken lay stagnant on your plate, with some weird dots of something that looked like baby food. It was enough to get your mind back on track and enough to get you more centered and less dick crazy.

“I--I can’t. Tiana and I are going to Burger King.” You shrugged.

You could see his eyes widen from your periphery giving you the time to ask the waiter for another drink. You might need it.

“Burger King...Well fuck it let’s go to Burger King then.”

It was your turn to look at him, wide eyed and confused.

“I’m sorry? What part of what I just said made you think your pasty ass was invited to my Burger King expedition?”

“I just figured we should take some time to build up our strength for some late night activities is all.”

Genuinely, how did you end up here? Where was the camera? When was the joke going to reveal itself?

“Honestly you must have a script writer or something. There is no way that shit actually comes out of your brain and through your mouth.”

The table around you was having a conversation, but it just didn’t seem to matter. Nothing really cut through when the two of you were together. Whether he was annoying you or turning you on, Shawn seemed to take up all your senses. He did it with ease and with swagger. Sometimes you didn’t even hate him for it. Sometimes you wished you hated him more.

“Have you ever thought about how much easier both of your lives would be if you argued with me less and just let me make you happy more often?” He asked.

You peered at him looking for a sign of him joking, waiting for him to say something smart, something that would make you want to slap him. But he didn’t. He just stared as if he genuinely wanted an answer. And when the time came you were helpless but to give it to him.

“Is that...is that what you’re concerned with? Making me happy?” You asked.

He stared at you for a second, eyes wide and sincere, before his shoulders dropped and he shrugged away whatever moment there might have been.

“‘Course I am darlin’. I’m concerned with keeping us both happy if you know what I mean.”

You rolled your eyes and tried to focus on cutting through the food on your plate. It was barely edible. God you hated these dinners.

“There’s nothing wrong with talking to each other when we’re not naked, yn.” He mumbled between his own bites of dry chicken.

You shrugged your shoulders. “I know that.”

“Yea? So can I come to Burger King then?” He asked.

His jawline points to you and it is as infuriating as it is comforting. You’re not quite sure how he manages that. You just know that you don't quite hate each other. Never have. You actually had periods where you got along quite well. And perhaps that’s what made you the most nervous. This potential for the two of you to get along muddied up the waters slightly. What did that mean if you were two people who fucked and got along? What did it mean if you became friendly, became friends even? You weren’t sure, and it seemed like everything that the two of you might want to avoid. So definitely don’t invite him, right?

“W--Well… Fuck. I guess you can come. But if you at any point start fucking up the atmosphere, I will promptly drop your ass off at the subway.” You warned.

“Fine. It wouldn’t be the weirdest foreplay we’ve gotten up to anyway and you know it.”

“God, kill me now.”

***

When you told Tiana to go live her best life you weren’t quite sure what that meant. But, you knew it had not entailed bringing some random ass man on your friendship Burger King run! Granted he was sexy as hell, but like...not the point. And the fact that you showed up with Shawn tagging along was not to be mentioned, no matter how many eye rolls she sent in your direction. Rude.

“Can we go to your place tonight?” Shawn hummed moving your curtain of hair to tuck gently behind your ear.

You bit your lip, warm and fuzzy from your fifth glass of champagne, and stared at him.

“Mhm. How come though?”

“You sleep better when you’re not in new places. Not that my place is really new anymore, but you still sleep better at home.”

“H--How… How could you possibly know that?”

He shrugged. “You’re not invisible to the world just cause you think you are. I can see you.”

Your heart rate picked up in your chest. You stared at him harder trying to understand how it was possible for this man to do that. He seemed so young, so inexperienced (not in the bedroom of course). You had pegged him as man child, as someone completely out of touch with reality. How dare he see you for more than you had been ready to share. How dare he look deeper.

“I don’t even understand.” You mumbled. “What?”

“At my place you wake up before your alarm. Without fail, every morning. You’re an early bird as it is, but it’s literally like your body enters fight or flight mode or something. We don’t have to talk about it if it’s not what you want. Don’t get mad at me for noticing you though. I think we’re around each other a little bit too much for that now.”

His eyes are warm and gentle and his hand somehow ended up holding your wrist. Even his grasp in gentle. He’s not teasing you, or trying to make a joke. It’s just genuine. Simple. A moment between the two of you that might complicate things if you think hard enough. So, you don’t.

“Fine.” You huffed sliding down in your seat to lean your head on his shoulder. “You don’t like the lights off when you sleep though.”

He peers down at you from above this time, and you get a little stuck on the rosiness of his cheeks.

“Excuse me?” He raised an eyebrow. “We sleep with the lights off every time.”

You shake your head playfully. “At your place you always keep the bathroom light on. At mine? You always change your clothes in my closet and then you leave the light on and the door cracked.”

He goes silent for a while.

You thought maybe you’d touched on a nerve that you weren’t meant to. But, you weren’t sure how to backtrack or talk to him about it. He had touched a nerve for you after all. One that you weren’t quite ready to share. Even with him.

His eyes stayed on his fingers as he played with his rings. You felt calm resting there against his shoulder, watching him. You thought you could fall asleep that way.

“How come you never shut it off?”

You opened your eyes, cheek resting on his shoulder. “Hmm?”

“The light. You never shut it off. You let me keep it on. How come?”

“Cause it seemed like you wanted it, seemed like it made you comfortable. Why wouldn’t I let you do something that makes you happy. It wasn’t affecting me none.”

Another stretch of silence fills the back seat of the car. Tianna and her man giggle to each other. He’s cute. You wonder how long they’ll last. Tianna was the queen of random ass long lasting relationships. She could date someone for two years after meeting them at a bar. She was kind of infectious that way. You thought that maybe keeping her working for you was stopping her from settling down, from moving on to a new phase in her life...She’d never admit it even if you asked.

“It’s just a thing with my mum.”

“What is?” You asked curiously popping back into the conversation.

“When I was a kid, she used to keep the light on at night so that I wouldn’t get scared. And when we moved out to California, away from Canada, our house was too big. My room was super far away from hers and so she would always keep it on so that I could come find her if I needed to. It’s silly but she’s back in Canada now, and when I go home to visit she still leaves it on. Guess I just got used to it.”

You felt warm against his side. Like maybe if he wrapped his arm around you you wouldn’t mind. Like maybe his lips could touch yours and it would be okay. And when he speaks you feel yourself relax and ease completely against his side. It’s not just the vulnerability. Part of it is the sound of his voice, soft and smooth against your ear. And part of it is his nerves, the way he twitches his fingers as if you might judge him. But you won’t. Couldn’t imagine it.

“That’s not silly.” You whispered against his neck. “That’s sweet. That’s what you deserve. We keep the light on, okay?”

He looked at you like he did at the dinner. Eyes soft and gentle and searching. It’s a loaded glance, but this time you don’t look away.

“Okay. thank you. And we can stay at yours whenever you know? I--I don’t mind.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

Burger King is not prepared for the four of you to walk in at eleven o’clock at night, dressed to the tee and looking for food. But the second a chicken sandwich and an onion ring enter your hand nothing else matters. You are zen. You are in pleasure. You are in heaven. You are...horny?

“What in the hell is you lickin’ your lips at?” Tianna snorted as you two sat in a whole ass booth at burger king in five thousand dollar dresses. What a world.

Shawn was ordering you another chicken sandwhich after the first had not satisfied your hunger. But watching him stand at the register with his hands in his pockets, talking to the person ringing up their order was doing something for you that even you couldn’t explain.

“Ti’ I wanna suck his dick.” You admitted softly. “I wanna suck his dick so bad I can’t stand it.”

“Oh sweet jesus.”

You bit your lip as he turned to throw a smirk at you over his shoulder. That was all she wrote.

“I have to fuck him. Like now.” You shrugged. “ I don’t make the rules.”

“Bitch the hold that man’s dick has on you I will never understand. You cannot go fucking that boy in a Burger King bathroom. That is a level of ratchet-edy that I cannot allow as your best friend.”

You turned to your best friend in your time of need. Tianna had been there your whole life. From braces to training bras to stretch marks to breaks ups. She had seen you at your worst and at your best. And most certainly she had seen you at your horniest.

“Ti, here’s the thing. Sometimes I just need someone to rail me.” You offered in your loosened state. “Sometimes? I need to be bent over and taken for everything that I’ve got. Now I’m not picky about who does it as long as they do it well. The problem...and it is a very big problem, sis...is that no one has ever had the audacity to fuck me like that firm, chiseled little beanpole can.”

“Not beanpole, bitch.” She cackled.

You licked your lips in his direction and sighed the sigh of a woman who was in desperate need of dick. What a life.

“I’m serious. I think it’s the greatest, throw my back out and leave me crying , dick I’ve ever had.” You hummed. “I want him.”

“Well let’s get some more food in your drunk ass and then he can throw your back out a little later.”

It would never make sense to Tianna. It wasn’t that you were drunk at all. In fact, with some food in your system you felt pretty fine. It was just that you really liked the way that he made you feel. And he really liked the way that he made you feel. Shawn should’ve been selfish, should’ve been cocky and underwhelming and sucky in bed. But he wasn’t. He was just...good. He was good and whatever it was that the two of you had, you kind of liked it. What was wrong with that?

Tiana got up to go meet her mans, and when Shawn got back to the table, he set your food in front of you politely. Instead of focusing on the sandwich you looked up at him. And he looked back. His fingers gripped the back of your seat and you leaned forward until you were in each other’s space, until your chin butted softly against his stomach.

“What?” He chuckled fingers grazing your jaw.

Too soft. God he was so soft.

“Mmm. Want you to kiss me.”

His eyes widened slightly and his fingers stilled.

“You do? Right now?”

You nodded. “Please?”

He looked into your eyes and his teeth sunk gently into his bottom lip. Your lips parted and you leaned forward, your heart thumping unevenly in your chest. When he kissed you, you weren’t quite sure what to expect. You thought you’d grown used to his kiss, to the feel of his teeth and his tongue. But, nerves nestled deep in your gut as you weren’t sure what kind of kiss he might give you. When his fingers trailed along the back of your neck softly before gripping it tightly. Breath wooshed past your lips as he yanked you forward to kiss you hard, fast, and deep…in a Burger King.

You gasped lifting slightly out of your chair as his tongue snaked in. Your fingers found his hair and squeezed tight, squeezed desperately at everything that he was. Suddenly your whole body was on fire with want, with need. His hands burned at your hips and you fell into him. He knew exactly what the fuck he was doing. What he always did to you. God you hated him.

“Eat your chicken and let’s go.” He huffed barely pulling back to lick his lips.

Your eyes fluttered wantonly up at him. “W--What are we doing?”

“I’m gonna fuck this pretty little mouth of yours. And then I’m gonna eat your pussy until you sob.”

He tapped lightly on your cheek before turning on his heel and heading straight for the door. If there was a chicken sandwich or a meteor, or God herself in that damn restaurant you was not finna notice.

“Bitch where is you going?!” Tiana called after you.

But there was no use. You were practically floating on air after that man like the dirty little whore you were. Thank you.

“Gotta go.” You called over your shoulder not wanting to miss the way his ass looked in those pants.

Outside the cool fall air felt like ice against your heated skin. The city was still alive and bustling, cars weaving in and out of traffic, horns honking, people booking it to their next location. Shawn stood at the edge of the sidewalk near the car that had driven you from the event, but made no move to get into the vehicle. As you stepped closer, your thighs still practically quivering, he turned to you and smiled before licking his lips with dark and clouded eyes. Fuck.

“Why aren’t you getting in the car?” You whined.

He reached for your hand to pull you closer. One second you were standing beside him and the next he had lifted you just slightly off of the ground until the soles of your shoes were nestled on top of his. His hands settled just below the curve of your ass and tugged your thighs so that your bodies were pressed together. It was some Cinderella, prince charming shit that you had never in your natural born life expected. Suddenly you were feeling far more intoxicated than the drinks had ever caused.

“I didn’t wanna leave Tianna stranded, so I called my driver. He never left the banquet; he’ll be here in fifteen.”

You nodded softly fingers resting on his shoulders at he held you against him.

“Should we...like wait inside then?”

He shook his head with a smirk that made your toes clench.

“No. I’d rather tell you all the things I’m gonna do to you the second I get you alone. We don’t need to go inside for that.”

You gulped. Bitch, honest to god gulped. You didn’t know anyone but Shaggy and Scooby was walking around gulping, but alas. What a fucking night.

“What are you gonna do to me?” You whispered.

He sighed softly letting his thumb run over your cheek in soothing motions again. Then he wrapped his arms around your back and held you so close that may have felt like more than what it was had he not began to speak lowly into your ear.

“I’m gonna keep you in your panties all night.” He hummed. “I’m gonna eat you so good you’ll be aching for me to rip them off, but I won’t. I’m gonna lick you through them. I’m gonna make you cum against my face with them on. I’m gonna lick you clean with them on. I’m gonna drive you absolutely fucking wild if I can help it.”

You swore your knees gave out. But it didn’t matter because his fingers were digging deep into your hips to keep you upright. It wasn’t a sexual embrace. It was barely even romantic. This of course only made it hotter that he was talking to you in the manner that he was, that anyone might walk by at any moment and would have no idea the things he was saying it. You got wet just thinking about it.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” He asked. “Gonna let me make you feel good?”

“Y--Yes. Yes, sir. I promise I’ll be so good for you. Only wanna be good for you.”

“Yea? Gonna let me slip my cock between this pretty lips?”

His thumb tugged at your bottom lip and you moaned embarrassingly loud.

“Shit.”

He leaned forward to kiss your forehead another juxtaposition of emotions and actions that really were sending your body through the ringer. How was he real?

“I’m gonna fuck your throat until you beg me to stop.” He said calmly.

The car pulled up at that exact moment but you were frozen to your spot. Shawn was completely unbothered by the existential crisis that he’d left you in, and simply lifted your feet off of his to open the door. As if it was just a tuesday night or some shit. The audacity.

“Sweetheart let’s not keep Jake waiting, aye? It’s rude.” He murmured in regards to his driver.

Surely there had to be a level where this stopped. Surely, it was all getting to be too much. This man seemed to have you wrapped around his larged, perfectly skilled finger. Yes. Too much. Needs to stop. Like yesterday.

“Okay.” You sighed and shuffled your fine ass into the car.

Welp. Maybe another day.

***

“Are the ropes too tight?” He breathed against your neck, lips trailing delicately over the skin.

You hummed. “No. Feels good.”

“Color?”

“Green.”

“Good girl.”

He steps in front of you, his body long and lithe and taking up all of your senses. His thighs flex with ease and that’s before you even get to the sharp jut of hip that leads to a perfectly pointed V towards his dick. He’s already hard and already ready for you to make him feel good. Because that’s what it’s about. Mutual pleasure. You from giving and him from receiving, and within that giving you everything that you could ever ask for. Your thong is soaked just thinking about it.

“You’re not gonna be able to speak obviously, so I need you to tap me three times really quick if you want me to stop okay?” He asked eyes wide and sincere.

You nodded. “Okay.”

“No I’m serious. If it starts to hurt, I need you to stop me. If it start feels less than good at any point you tell me to back the fuck off. Do you understand?”

“Yes. Shawn, I understand.” You assured him.

He makes you practice it through the ropes around your wrist. Only once you’re comfortable and he’s comfortable does he step closer. Your wig now gone and in its place is your hair pulled tightly into a bun at the back of your head, there’s not much for him to grab onto. That doesn’t seem to bother Shawn in the slightest.. His fingers reach for your cheeks and jaw instead, gentle and playful at first and he tilts your head to the right angle for him. When his cock slips into his hand, and he lets the head rest between your lips, the sound that comes out of him is so tantalizing you nearly cum right there.

“So pretty for me, sweetheart.” He groaned. “Go ahead and get it wet.”

Your tongue laves at the thick fleshiness of his head. He won’t let you move closer to get more, won’t push forward at all yet, so all you can use is your tongue. Surprisingly you love the power that it gives you. The power of being in control of his pleasure from beneath him. It’s an intricate play at the power dynamics that the two of you constantly played with. But, you like it. You like it a lot. You let the tip of your tongue trace lazily at his slit and notice the way his eyes flutter close at the feeling.

“Fuck. Y/n, yes. That’s it.”

He steps a little closer and finally lets his dick slip between your lips. Your tongue continues running beneath the underside, fingers wrapping instinctively around one of his ankles to anchor you more to this moment, this pleasure. The second he gives you the leeway, you wrap your lips tightly around him and suck. You weren’t kidding back at Burger King, you were more than prepared.

“Goddamn, your fucking mouth. You’ll be the death of me you know that?”

You slurped a little nosily at the amount of his length that he had given you, wanting to show your enthusiasm as an answer to his question. He steps a little closer now, and fills you more.

His hands come to rest on your head, one directly on top, and the other at the bottom of your jaw. Your eyes finally lock and his lips fall open in lust as he lets his cock slap against your tongue.

“I’m gonna start to move now. I’m gonna give you more and more until my whole dick is in your mouth. You know our safety signal right?”

You nod eagerly. Desperately. He makes you practice the signal again just in case. Three taps for STOP. Two for slow down a little. One for I’m so happy with this.

The first time he puts his whole dick in your mouth it isn’t even the feel of him that makes your entire body pur. Instead it’s the sound of him whining, His legs tremble and his eyes flutter shut. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. And you want more of it. Crave it even. So you let him fill you. You let your throat relax and your tongue flatten. You breathe through your nose and you don’t dare move as he slowly begins to move his hips. It has its intended effect on him, but even more than that is the effect it has on you. Your pussy throbs indecently as his balls tap your chin. The rops tighten as you stretch to lean closer, to be closer. His mouth parts and he moans for you. It’s euphoria.

“Jesus. Your mouth feel so damn good.” He grunted.

His thrusts got tighter, more pointed until the sound of your dick between your lips was lewdy and filthy. You welcome the spit that dripped from your mouth, yearned for the way it made him gasp and plead for you. Was he in control? Maybe. But who was really steering the pleasure? You were. And you fucking loved every second of it.

When he pulls from your throat you gasp and cough for breath, but not without seeing the way the tip of his cock was red and angry and leaking. It flapped against your lips and glistened in the light of his bedroom. Even when you were still fighting to breathe, you couldn’t help but want to suck it again.

“I--I’m not gonna fucking last.” He huffed squeezing at the base to stave off his orgasm.

You couldn’t help but pout at the way he got to touch himself while your fingers were tied. Couldn’t stand that your lips weren’t on him anymore.

“Don’t need to. Don’t want you to.” You whined. “Come back to me.”

The look that he gives you is one of heat and lust and something that’s maybe a bit tender. He cups your jaw again and bites his lip like he’s conflicted. About what you haven’t got a clue. Before you can think too much he’s thrusting himself into you again, but this time with more power, more recklessness. It burns slightly at your throat. The sounds get louder, more dirty, and so does the way he cries out for you. It’s desperate and needy and so fucked out and GOD why won’t he touch your pussy yet?!

“‘M gonna cum. Gonna cum down your throat.”

Your fingers gripped desperately at his calf, mouth stretch wide beyond your limits and he gagged you repeatedly with his cock. The fight for air was long and hard, but the way he trembled on his fucking toes for you was everything. It was power and it was beauty and it just made you want to be good for him. You just needed to please him. Simply because you could. Better than anyone fucking else could.

He cums with his fingers wrapped tightly around the back of your skull holding you against his crotch as he emptied himself into your throat. When he pulls out his head taps your lip a final time and each of you groan for different reasons. You for the air that fills your lungs, and him for the orgasm that seems to rock him to his very core.

“Shit. Shit y/n. That was amazing.” He whined.

You smile softly with wet eyes and a wet lips and a bit of a sore throat.

“I know.” You hum.

He rolled his eyes playfully at you and moves to his bedside table for the bottle of water he left for you there. Shawn quickly dropped to his knees along side you and lifted the water bottle to your lips to let the cool water trickle down your throat.

“Are you okay?” He checked. “Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head. “No. Feel good. A little sore. But good.”

“Yea? Well you were amazing. You’re always amazing.”

It fills you with a lightbeam of happiness that is too much to deal with it. You felt like you were on cloud nine. It was one thing for you to know you were good, and another entirely for him to agree. Another thing entirely for him to praise you so endlessly and feverently. It made you feel so damn good.

He untied your wrists and rubbed his thumbs soothingly into your skin. His lips track down yours and it’s just as good as it was at Burger King, just as hunger filled and desperate.

“‘M gonna get you on the bed okay?” He mumbled against your mouth, still pressing heated kisses to your skin. “Your hands aren’t tied anymore so you can do whatever you want with them while I’m eating you out. You can tug on my hair. You can grab at me in whatever way you need. There’s just one thing you can’t do.”

“What’s that?”

“You can’t push me away. I’m gonna make you cum. You’re gonna want me to stop. But I won’t. And I need you to be good for me. I need you to take it. Okay?”

“O--Okay.” You sighed, thighs squeezing together again. “Okay. I’ll be good.”

He smiled and gripped your chin. “My good girl. Come.”

There is nothing like the feeling of him between your legs. His body is warm and hard and heavy. He roots you to the bed and makes you feel more present than ever. His lips and tongue are hot against your already flushed skin as he kisses and nibbles his way along your thighs and stomach. With your hands now free to roam as they please you can’t seem to get enough of him. The softness of his curls between your fingers. The bulge of muscle at his shoulder blades. The dip in the back of his spine. And the entire time he’s doing just what he promised. His tongue soaked at the fabric of your thong, pushing it against your clit with languid little strokes. If you thought that your underwear being in the way would make it less intense, you couldn't have been more wrong. The fabric was silk and it added another texture against your skin as he sucked and prodded at you. Not even fifteen minutes later and your legs had found their way around his back, toes nudging that divet in the small of it again.

“S--Shawn.” you whined pitifully. “Please. More.”

He peered up from between your thighs with the grin of the devil. His lips were already red and swollen. You simply needed more contact.

“I’ll give you more when I’m ready honey. Be good for me.” He cooed.

He sucks a mark into the jut of your lip and runs his tongue there to soothe the flesh before he dives back in.

It’s absolutely torturous. From the foreplay of his dick down your throat, to the absolute hell of his teeth on your thighs, you were buzzing. The need that seem to build and throb from your core was unlike anything you’d ever felt before. You’d never craved being touched, had never needed it this badly. But, here Shawn was constantly pulling emotions and feelings that no one had ever been capable of getting out of you.

He slurped loudly at your pussy through your thong, constantly flicking the fabric to tap anxiously at your clit. When your orgasm started to build, your fingers fisted into his hair, thighs clenched. You pushed closer to his mouth and cried out widely for him, for his tongue, for anything that meant he might take you over the edge. And over the edge you went.

“Fuck. Ohmygod--fuck yea!”

He let you grind your pussy against his face. Let you ride that high like you rode his mouth. And when the orgasm began to ebb and your clit throbbed again, he leaned onto his elbows and grabbed at your ass to pull you even closer against his face. He wasn’t done. He’d barely even fucking started.

“SHAWN!”

He tugged the thong out of the way and licked you clean, ran his tongue along every crevice and nerve ending. When he traces the very tip of your clit with the tip of his tongue your legs close like venice fly trap around his head. Your fingers thrust into his hair and you let out a moan that you would be embarrassed of in broad daylight. There’s just no way in hell he’s got you cumming again this fast.

He got up onto his knees, fingers digging deep into your thighs and wrestled you down onto his expensive ass bed. By the time he comes up for air, your legs were literally trembling and you heart soared so fast in your ears that it was all you could hear.

“This pussy was fucking made for me.” He grunted licking his lips. “Come here.”

“W--wait, I’m so sensitive.”

He paused, fingers still gripping you just tightly enough.

“Color?”

You bit your lip. “Green.”

“You’re sure?”

You nodded softly and leaned back onto your elbows as he made his way between your thighs once again. He tugged your thigh over his shoulder and settled onto his side to make himself more comfortable. Your eyes met from between your legs as he pressed a kiss to one of your pussy lips.

“You make me wait again and I’ll slap your ass so hard you won’t be able to sit tomorrow okay?” He murmured.

Your fingers reached instinctively for his hair now, tightening into the curls as you threw your head back in pleasure.

“Fuck. Okay. Okay, sir. I’m sorry.”

“Mmmm. Good girl.” He hummed against your core.

He starts to lick and suckle at you again ignoring the ways that your legs shake at this point. His hands are dancing on your thighs and gripping at the flesh so good it makes you squirm all the more. It really does just feel too good to be true. His tongue is like a sinful miracle and you’ve been fooling around long enough for him to know your body inside and out. From the way he bumps your clit with his nose, to the way his tongue traces around the skin in tight little circles. Every part of it feels infinitely special. When his fingers slip inside of you and curve towards the darkest part of your being, your hips start to flail again. He only smiles up at you in satisfaction.

“So sensitive for me. Wanna make you cum again. Can you cum for me sweetheart?”

Your back arched hips pushing closer and closer towards him as he filled you up and rubbed roughly at your gspot.

“Oh. Oh my god. Oh my god, Shawn! Please. Please make me cum.”

He pushed at the thigh that was over your shoulder and spread you further so that his fingers could do their magic. He rubbed deeper and deeper into you, fingers curving so that your body lost all control. This orgasm starts in your belly, warm and firey before it spread through every nerve ending. When you cum it’s like an eruption. Your screams reach new octaves. The squelching sound of Shawn’s plunging fingers meeting the thick, sticky liquid from your heat. It’s all too much. Too too much.

“HOLY FUCK!”

He pulled his fingers from within you and let your body drop back down to the bed spread. Your heart raced in your chest and your legs felt like jello. You could barely breathe and Shawn thought it was the funniest shit in the world. He peered down at you with hungry eyes and the cockiest fucking grin in the world and your pussy had the audacity to twitch again. What a whore.

He climbed onto your body, thighs bracketing either side of your torso. His dick was red and leaking again, your body literally shivering as he thrust lazily against your stomach.

“‘M gonna cum on your tits.” He whimpered fisting himself in his palm again. “Is that okay?”

He pumped at his shaft, curls flopping beautifully along his forehead with every thrust of his hips. Shawn was a dream. A sweaty, trembling dream that made your heart race and your toes curl. In the moment with his thighs tenses on either side of you, and his lips parted and swollen, denial was not an option. You ached for his pleasure, for his reward. You craved it.

“Yes. Yes!”

Your hands grasped at the flesh of your boobs lifting them to be pressed together. Your nipples stood erect and rock hard, and this only seemed to spur him on even more. The best part of Shawn’s position above you was the ability to watch him fall apart. Your dom, for all of his charisma and perfected authority, crumbled when he was near orgasm. It was in those few seconds that you got to see him in his most vulnerable state. Whiny and red faced and just as overwhelmed as you. And god did you love every second of it.

He shoved up on his knees and groaned so low that you felt it in your own chest. The head of his cock barely poked out from his fist as he fell over the finish line, cum spurting out in thick long ropes along your body. He gasped and heaved in elation hunching in on himself too. You reached without thinking to take his cock into your mouth, cleaning the last remnants of his orgasm with your tongue. When you pulled back with a nice plop for added measure, he collapsed beside you on the bed. Both of you were absolutely done for after a total of five orgasms split between the two of you. There was simply nothing else for you to give.

“F--Five minutes.” He gasped from beside you. “Five minutes and I’ll go get the washcloth.”

It seemed like a fair trade off. You couldn’t even feel your pussy to let him clean you up after all. What was another five minutes?

Permanent taglist

@simpledomain @liliane106 @thecurlsofgod @kamahriii @sinplisticshawn @lifeoftheparty74 @xeuphorically-moonstruck @euphoric05 @daijanicole @bruhh-whateven @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @decewill @goldiean @bitchacho25 @bruhh-whateven @justbeingoceana @loveylangdon @iloveshawnieboi @lifeoftheparty74

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#shawn mendes #Shawn mendes fic #Shawn mendes fanfic #Shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes smut #Shawn mendes series #Shawn mendes angst #Shawn mendes one shot #Shawn mendes x you #Shawn mendes x y/n #Shawn mendes x reader #Shawn mendes x black reader #Shawn mendes x black woman #Shawn mendes x black oc #dom Shawn #dom!shawn #sub reader #sub!reader

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nekomajo · 5 years ago

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They all deserved better

My actual review/rant of TROS. Needless to say SPOILERS and this movie pissed me off. They threw in anything and everything in an attempt to please as many people as possible. But this has never worked and I don’t know why they bothered. (Also sorry if this is all over the place) Hux and the FO Out of all the characters that have existed since TFA, I feel Hux was the biggest missed opportunity. He had the potential to be an amazing and formidable villain, without being a powerful Sith Lord. He’s been shown to be clever and underhanded, using any means to get to the top. What we got was a Hux that was just there for a ‘twist’ and then die like a bitch. The First Order as a threat could have created technology to block out the Force and maybe even supress it. They could have gone the way of like witch hunting, searching out Force Sensitives and trying to take their powers away. This could have been their goal after Snoke was killed since Hux never cared for Space Wizard. I personally find that more frightening than some wrinkled old coot in a dark cave. Poe He was never in my top five favourites, but I still enjoyed him and his shenanigans just fine. However, this movie somehow made me not care about him at all. His inspiring speeches and witty quips were hollow and I was just counting the seconds until his scenes were over. Rose I can’t really express my anger in words at how she was side lined. This poor girl who lost he sister, but still pushed through and was determined not to lose anyone else. She was barely there and her importance to other characters was almost none existent. Finn What happened with this character actually hurts me. I always used Finn as an example of why the ST was going to be good. For the first time in these movies and Stormtrooper was shown as a human. They were nothing but faceless canon fodder in the OT and in the PT they were show as mindless tools that only followed orders. Finn being a defected Stormtrooper gave a new point of view and it could have been used to further the story. My ideal outcome for Finn was if he reached out to find other’s like him and perhaps bring down the First Order from within. The message that you are more than what others try and make you believe and that you can always choose your own path. But instead he was reduced to a one-note hero whose backstory means nothing to his goals or character. Skywalkers I didn’t think it was possible for me to ever dislike Leia and Luke, but this movie pulled off a miracle. With the other two movies I could understand that they made mistakes, because everyone does. But the hypocrisy and just down right mean spirited way they treated their own family in favour of someone else makes me sick. Also CGI Leia galore! The Romance There were a few very good bits with Rey and Ben, but they were sort of drowned in unnesesary exposition and bad dialogue. I felt like there scenes were taken from two different scripts, one where they are in love and another where it feels one sided? It was not fun watching Rey flip between being cold and sometimes hateful to Ben and then revealing that she has deep feelings for him. Also, for her to not be shown mourning him, even for a few minutes made me cringe. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad the romance was acknowledged, but I just wish they’d pick a consistent tone. The kiss was sweet but really bad, when Ben just keels over and dies right after. It was shown as a ‘happy we’re together kiss’, but then it’s revealed to be a ‘goodbye kiss’ all along? Like damn, that’s really shitty. I probably could have dealt with him dying if it was done better and his sacrifice was at least acknowledged. But it was like the happy ending was dangled in front of us and snatched away, with no lasting impact on Rey. As I said before pick a friggin’ tone and STICK WITH IT! Giving your audience emotional whiplash isn’t good story telling! Rey Oh boy… I had such high hopes for Rey. A lonely little girl from nowhere who became something amazing on her own, should have been so easy to accomplish. But no, instead we got a girl whose traumas and flaws are glossed over and covered up with bad writing. Sheev Palpatine being Rey’s grandfather takes away any quality to her character. Making her abandonment an act of ‘love’ just allows her to shrug off the years of loneliness with no repercussions. She was only able to defeat the big baddie in the end, because a bunch of ghosts helped her. She only lived in the end because someone gave their life for her. She was only strong because of other people and never on her own. Kylo Ren/Ben Solo By far the most amazing thing in the messed up movie and probably the whole trilogy! If you think that Rose being side lined was bad, the shit put on Ben made my head spin. Apparently, his mother and Uncle knew all along that he was in danger of falling to the dark before he was born and still did nothing to prevent it? Because he was Vader’s grandson, he deserved to be tossed aside? Any remorse from Luke and Leia seem to be minimal at best, while they fawn over pseudo children. The only one who ever seemed to give a crap about him was Han. Ben was twisted and pulled around on a string by Palpatine and his family let it happen. When Ben turns, we see the sassy, light hearted rouge he should have been all along. He literally fights his way to Rey’s side, gets thrown into a pit and crawls back out with broken bones, before restoring a life with the Force. He accomplished all this without anyone’s help, accept the memory of his father. It’s ironic that despite being the heir to the Skywalker line, Ben was more powerful without them, while Rey unfortunately is unable to do anything unless other’s help her. This is why more fans like Ben than Rey in my opinion. Every single character and relationship was done dirty in one way or another. They all deserved so much better. The worst thing about it all is that I could see a potentially good movie and it’s sad it turned out this way. Of course, if you enjoy TROS, please don’t let what I or anyone else thinks diminish that for you. This is just how I feel.

#Star wars #TROS #spoilers #reylo #my thoughts #rey of jakku #kylo ren #ben solo #they deserved better

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kamitra · 8 years ago

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The shape of language

I’ve thought about this for a long time before (at least a decade), but the way my brother and I talk to each other is really interesting. I doubt it’s unique, but is probably a form of speaking that evolved from a lack of symbolism, puns, and common sense. In MBTI terms my brother is INTJ and I’m INxP. We’re not twins (3 years apart, actually), but given how he’s always had problems speaking to other people, I more or less learned and then modified his language to talk to him. In a lot of ways it’s just easier to use this form of talking than other people’s.

In multiple intelligence terms we mostly share visual/spatial and mathematical scores with mine being stronger on the former and his being stronger on the latter. Linguistic gets iffy because he’s got dyslexia and I just suck at it.

Features of this method of discourse include (let me hope I can described this in some sort of organized manner):

1. Meaning and intent trumps any sort of odd phrasing, innuendo, or other things that would normally derail a conversation with other people. A sentence must be decoded correctly above all. In more playful modes, the twists and turns to decode a sentence properly might simply be an estranged from of sarcasm (sardonicism?). Sometimes it’s just out of laziness (on my part) or efficiency of using fewer words (his part).

2. Given information is given. Thus things like “I am not an expert, but…” or “I wasn’t there but even I know…” are all given in a conversation and are thus excessive. Personal feelings to a degree are given (or are partially encoded in the first part). Thus it’s kinda surprising to both of us that he comes off as cold? and know-it-all to some others. (I’m more than aware that I do as well sometimes, but that’s a bit different.) I suppose all of this is emotive information.

3. Analogies and metaphors galore. Anything that is within shared understanding is within reach and if it’s not shared, requires a side explanation (footnotes). The sheer prevalance of these could give other people listening whiplash. Probably. Mom gets lost about half the time, probably because the topic is another given.

4. Almost everything stated is the truth with an effort for accuracy. Exaggeration is inevitable, but we try to avoid it when possible. I’m more likely to break the exaggeration rule while he’s more likely to not actually be serious all the time. (I regret the one time I joked that we should put net lights on a Christmas tree.)

Oh and I did manage to teach someone else how to interpret it so when I’m too out of it (when it’s like 11pm and I’ve been sick all week) I can still communicate.

I can’t really give examples of our conversations because I’d need a recorder (I know my phone can theoretically do this but still). And then I could write a paper for… I’m not sure, since then I could probably analyze to find out what kind of neuro types (ADD and Autism are really broad categories to try to pin down) we actually have running in our family… nevermind personality traits and cultural influence…

#personal language #intj #intp #infp #not sure who cares but

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fanforfanatic · 8 years ago

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To The Hilt - 5/13

Dean Winchester/Original Female Character

Summary: When they run into her for the fourth time in a fourth state, Sam and Dean don't think it's a coincidence anymore. Maybe they kidnap her to get to the bottom of things. Maybe they accidentally put her on a path of destruction. Maybe Dean falls in love with her a little. Serves her right for stalking them, to be honest.

3639 Words

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 -you are here- 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

Read it on ao3

Chapter 5: Darts, Stars and Seven Hours of Heaven

When they walk through the door, Sam leaves them to get drinks from the bar. Dean leads Robin to a booth, a hand burning a hole at the small of her back. When he turns to face her as they reach the table, his hand slides to her hip with a friction that brings sinning to mind.

“You clean up nice.” She compliments patting down the collar of his shirt.

“There’s a lot of ways I can be nice.” He replies, willing her eyes to meet his. They do.

“I bet.” She breathes.

She moves to take a seat and ends up dropping onto the bench ungracefully. She laughs at her own clumsiness and winks comically at Dean. The moment between them is gone but Dean can’t bring himself to mourn because he loves seeing her like this. Loves how everything rolls off her back. Just like that. In a spurt of introspection, he thinks he can maybe learn a little from her. Later.

He surprises her by slipping next to her in the booth, leaving the opposing bench vacant for Sam. Just as quickly as it was gone the tension between them is back. Each itches to close the inches-wide gap between them. Dean doesn’t even try to hide his attraction. He lets the way his eyes linger on each of her curves be obvious. He lets his voice get lecherous when he finally speaks.

“You look good too.”

“I always do.” Robin means for it to sound obnoxious and smug, wants to relieve the tension some, but she’s too enraptured by the way he’s shamelessly staring at her to inflect so it just sounds matter-of-fact. She finds that she’s kind of breathless.

“Mm.” Dean murmurs in agreement. His eyes flick up to hold hers, the paths they drew on her body still hot. “When you’re right, you’re right.”

Robin feels caged in the corner of the booth. She doesn’t think she wants to be anywhere else. She’s not sure how long they stay like that, just staring at each other. Which, what even is that, by the way?

Eventually, Dean moves. He lifts a hand, the one that isn’t draped over the back of the booth, to touch her. The movement is slow, deliberate. Like he’s giving her a chance to stop him. Maybe he wants her to. It’d make it easier. Easier than getting a taste of something he won’t ever be able to have. Not really. Not the way he wants. She doesn’t stop him, though. So Dean puts a hand on her thigh. What he really wants is to move it to where her waist meets her hip, the spot where they flare out almost obscenely. He thinks her hips are his new favourite thing.

They stare at each other some more and Robin thinks she’s going to go insane. She does go insane when Dean starts to thrum his fingers on her thigh. It’s an irregular pitter-patter and she feels herself slip deeper into madness each time a finger presses into her flesh. She finds herself wishing she had worn a shorter skirt. Wishing she hadn’t worn a damn thing.

“Sorry that took so long.” Sam apologises placing three beers on the table and sitting.

With a squeeze, Dean’s hand is gone and Robin wants to scream.

“Get lost, Sammy?” Dean says, looking away from her and at his brother. Robin doesn’t miss the rasp in his voice. It’s both a question and a request though Sam doesn’t pick up on the latter.

“I was hitting it off with the bartender, actually.” Sam brags smugly.

Robin roots a small ‘wooh’. “Sam’s got it going on,” She cheers. When he gives her a guilty look she continues, “Go.”

“We’re supposed to be celebrating.”

“It’s fine, Sam.” She assures, smiling. “Go get some.”

Sam looks relieved and appreciative. “I’ll keep drinks coming your way all night,” He thanks, before taking his beer with him back to the bar.

Robin twists in her seat to get a look. “Wowza, she’s a looker.”

She feels Dean’s hand settle just above her hips and the contact is a little more insistent. A heavy presence on her body instead of the feathery touch they’d shared before.

“You’re into that?” Dean teases.

She faces him again, her body turned towards him. “Look at her.” She argues.

“I don’t want to.” He says, eyes boring into hers.

She feels debilitated. Overwhelmed. Stock still and yet crashing at 200 miles an hour. “You’re toxic.” She admits in a rush.

Dean’s eyes darken. “Yeah? I have an effect on you?”

“Don‘t flatter yourself.”

“Why would I, when I have you to do it for me?” He smirks staring intently.

“Whatever.” She finally mumbles when looking at him, and more importantly, when him looking at her, is just too much. She turns forward in her seat, taking a long pull of her beer. She enjoys the cold of the bottle in her hand.

When she turned, Dean’s hand slipped back to her thigh resuming its earlier position. This time, instead of only tapping a beat into her skin, he decides to move it up and down short distances. Her eyes shut, focusing on the drum of his fingers. She imagines it elsewhere and gets that much hotter. She takes another sip of her drink, eyes remaining closed, as though she is unable to fully tear herself away from the reverie.

He watches her swallow, watches her breath hitch when he makes his way up her leg just that much further. He thinks the contrast of her dark lashes against the blush of her cheeks is pretty.

“Care to share with the class?” He asks, wondering what’s going on in her head.

Her eyes finally open, it’s slow and heavy-lidded like she’s drowsy for some reason but Dean doesn’t peg her for a sleepy drunk, not that she drank enough yet. “Of course, you would have a teacher-student fantasy.” She says with a smirk and an eye-roll.

He crowds in closer, taking up all the oxygen in her immediate vicinity. Rude, she thinks. “Don’t pretend with me, Robin.” He says. Robin feels something coil inside her when she hears him say her name in such a low rumbly voice. “I can tell you’re kinky too. I seem to recall you saying something about rope.” He says it both menacingly and with a boyish charm, which only serves to give Robin emotional whiplash.

To her merit, she maintains the smirk on her face and doesn’t give him an inch despite having turned to mush twice over inside. What she does do is place the hand that was holding her beer on top of his on her thigh. The cold of her palm burns Dean’s skin. Then, she slides both their hands up her thigh suggestively, excruciatingly slow. She almost hates herself for it, for this self-inflicted torture. The look on his face, one of arousal, is worth it, though. “You have no idea.” She speaks and it’s almost sub-vocal. “You wouldn’t know what to do with me.” Then her hand is gone and she’s taking another drink.

Dean swallows thickly. The back of his hand irrationally cold. He trails his hand down her thigh and then back up, not bothering with the taping anymore, an act of mercy perhaps. He works his way higher each time only to retract back to her knee. Until he doesn’t. Until he keeps going so his fingers brush the crease of her thigh.

He leans forward, getting impossibly closer. Like he’s trying to kill me, she thinks. Close enough that she feels his ‘hmm’ brush onto her skin so intensely she thinks her synesthesia is back. She doesn’t have time to worry about it though because Dean is right there, right at her ear. His fingers inch just that much higher, towards her inner leg and Robin swears to fucking god that the tip of a finger is just about to touch her. Even through the fabric of her skirt, Robin doesn’t know that she’ll be able to handle it.

“You’re wrong.” He says pulling his hand back. His fingers trail all the way past her knee only to move back up under the hem of her skirt.

It’s just an inch, but it’s skin on skin and something inside Robin snaps. She needs and wants and craves and Dean is going to give it to her dammit.

It seems, however, that Dean has other plans because one moment he’s robbing her of all her air and the next he’s an agonizing two feet away, standing. He puts his hand out. “Want to play a game?”

It takes a minute for Robin’s mind to catch up, to realise that he’s nodding to the darts at the back of the bar.

“I was the sniper in my family, you know.” She proclaims and Dean thinks there’s a bit of regret there.

She wobbles to her feet, taking the proffered hand, his other one immediately at the base of her spine. “In that case, let’s make it interesting.” He suggests as they walk over to where the game is set up.

She laughs at the cliché. “Smooth, Winchester.”

He winks, plucking the darts out of the cork. “If you win, I’ll let you have your wicked way with me.”

“No deal.” She laughs. “Besides I can get that whenever I want.” She winks. “When I crush you, I want to drive Baby.”

Dean laughs a big obnoxious laugh. “No one drives Baby.”

“You better win, then.” She counters with a smirk.

He does. Two out of three.

Robin’s good. She’s great. A little out of practice, maybe. In the confines of her mind, though, she admits that even at her best she had nothing on the Winchester. She’s better with guns than projectiles. The game was fun, though, so she can’t complain. They drank enough to get a pleasant buzz going. It was sexual innuendos galore, but it was light and fun, not soul-crushingly encompassing like being near him sometimes is.

When they go back to the table Sam’s there nursing a drink, looking dejected.

Dean laughs. “Struck out, Sammy boy?” He teases his younger brother who throws him a bitchface.

Robin laughs and the night carries on. They talk about the cosmos for all of five minutes before Dean scolds them. They share memories, stories of badassery from the past. The boys try to out embarrass each other and Robin thinks she’s got a front row seat to the best show on earth.

“Never have I ever,” She thinks. “Been seduced by a succubus.”

Dean drinks, Robin and Sam laugh.

“Oh yeah?” Dean challenges looking at Sam pointedly. “Never have I ever locked myself out of my dorm room butt naked.”

Sam glares at his brother and drinks. Robin drinks. Sam splutters as both he and Dean stare at the girl.

“Freshman year.” She shrugs, an easy smile on her face. The only year she’d spent in a dorm room, in fact.

They laugh.

“Never have I ever eaten a whole pie in one sitting,” Sam says, vengeance in his eyes as he looks at his brother.

Dean grumbles and drinks.

They stumble out of the bar just before last call. They decide that none of them should drive and begin the trek back to the bunker. It’s a long one but the night is warm, despite summer coming to an end, and they enjoy it.

In a fit of drunkenness Robin overshares. “I love this.” She says throwing her hands up uncoordinatedly. “You Winchesters,” She continues. “So beautiful to see. I love that you exist.”

It’s a compliment but Dean swears it sounds sad. Sam nudges Robin with his shoulder. He’s massive, so it’s understandable that she stumbles. “We’re so pretty.” He agrees seriously.

Then they’re all laughing, because, hey, he’s not wrong.

The next morning Robin is welcomed to the realm of the living with a headache and the need to eat greasy food.

“Morning.” Sam greets.

Robin glances at him through crusty eyes, from the entrance to the kitchen, and sees him sipping on green slush. “Jesus, Sam. Even after a night like last night, you’re post-work-out at this hour?” She complains feeling a slight deja-vu.

Sam laughs. “I kept myself hydrated. ‘Sides someone had to go get the car.”

“Shut up. Shutupshutup.” She whines falling into the chair across from him. She rests the side of her face on the cool table. “Shut your productive ass up and get me coffee.”

Sam laughs and obeys, pouring her some from the pot he’d already brewed.

“That bad?” He asks.

“Mmm.” She groans, sitting up and accepting the coffee. “Not really. I’m just a drama queen. I’ll be good once I eat enough for two and shower.”

Sam laughs and nods.

“You always eat enough for two.”

“Shut up, Dean.” She throws back in the general direction of the kitchen entrance.

Dean chuckles and pours himself his own coffee before joining them at the table with a piece of toast.

“So what’s the plan?” He asks.

“Food,” Robin replies, noticing that he’s already had a shower.

“Yeah, we got that, you glutton.” He teases. “I’m talking about the whole cosmos thing. We don’t exactly have a lead.” He takes a bite of the bread.

Sam sighs. “You’re right. I can go over the research one more time, see if we’ve missed anything.”

“And then what?” Dean asks. “We don’t have a clue what’s going on. We think there’s something out there after Robin threatening enough for the cosmos to want to warn us about it and we have no clue what it is, where to find it and how to kill it.”

“Well, Robin can start training again, for one,” Sam suggests looking to her for approval.

She does a thumbs up while sipping her coffee.

“I think we just have to wait on the angels at this point.” She supplies.

“I know you don’t have a lot of experience with them, Robin, but angels aren’t dependable.” Dean sighs. “But you’re not wrong.”

“I literally never am.”

He throws his toast at her.

“Ninja throwing stars?” She asks smiling, raising a brow at him.

“You’ve already shown me you can shoot, Sniper. You’ve also shown me you can’t win a game of darts.” They’d already done some gun action for an hour and Dean had been impressed. She never missed a target and rarely hit off center.

She huffs. “Ninja stars, then.”

“These are actually called shuriken.”

“Nerd.” She teases.

He stands behind her, into her space and takes her hand in his. She pushes him off.

“Hell no. We’re not getting Ghost all up in here.”

He laughs. “You suck the fun out of everything.”

She winks and then he teaches her to use them. They do throwing knives next and then they make their way to the combat room.

Robin half expects Dean to try something again. She isn’t sure she’d have stopped him this time around. Her half expecting this, of course, implies that she also half expects him to keep things instructional. What she doesn’t expect is how hard he ends up being on her. He’s stricter than her parents had been and they were strict when it came to her training. They had to be if they were preparing their daughter to be a frontliner in the war between humanity and ‘all that goes bump in the night’. Dean, though, he’s like a drill sergeant. Robin doesn’t have any real experience with drill sergeants but this is what she imagines one to be like.

Dean’s probably holding back a little, pulling his punches, but it sure as fuck doesn’t feel like it. His punches and feel very real. Blooming bruises real. He doesn’t hit her to show her where she’s open. He hits her to hurt her. Hard enough to have Robin reeling and gasping for air. He never even gives her long to recuperate. Dean tries not to think about why he’s being so rough. Tries not to think about how it’s because he needs to see that she can take it. Needs to see that she can truly take care of herself, with his own eyes. It’s also how he was trained to fight, so he doesn’t what else really works.

“Come on,” He says after releasing her from a chokehold he’d kept her in long enough to prove she couldn’t get herself out.

Her eyes narrow. She moves for him, fast and efficient. She dodges a punch and then throws one that he blocks. He’s got a grip on her arm squeezing so hard it feels like he’s touching bone. She tries to get out of his grasp a few times but he’s like a boulder: unmovable. Eventually, she twists so that she brings his arm behind him. She doesn’t keep him in the position for long and she takes a hit to the side.

They continue to spar. Robin isn’t bad she’s just not good enough. She’s been able to survive Dean, but not take him down. A lot of it has to do with how out of practice she is.

“You need to do better, Robin.”

He’s right, she knows he’s right. Where she’s at now just won’t do. She’s barely able to keep herself upright let alone save someone. She’s been out of the game too long. There’s muscle memory there that hasn’t faded. Won’t ever, she thinks. It isn’t enough, though. She has to do better. And she can dammit. She has. She once fought a hellhound and got up without a single scratch. Her parents had cheered and they went out for a fancy dinner that night. So she can do better than this.

She wipes sweat off her face and isn’t surprised to find blood on her hand.

“You ready to show me what you’re made of?” He asks. It isn’t challenging. Just a question. A call for Robin to bring the best that she’s got.

She looks him over. He’s dripping in sweat too, so she must be doing something right. She lifts her fists up to her face and sees the bruises on her knuckles. “Yeah, I’m ready.” She says.

So she does. They fight until Robin is truly holding her own. Then they fight until it’s more of a challenge for Dean to keep up, until Robin is doing some real hand-to-god damage. It’s not enough.

“Come on.” He says again after a kick sends the huntress skidding and falling on her butt a few feet away.

“Give me a second.” She says, moving to her hands and knees, breathing heavy.

“You think a shifter is going to give you a second?” He argues stalking to her. “Think a demon will have mercy.” He continues with a kick to her gut.

“Dean.” She chokes scrambling away and to her feet.

“I’m not gonna go easy on you, Robin, and Sammy’s not around to help you.” It isn’t a taunt, just fact. “The things we face out there, superhuman strength. They’ll hit you harder than me. Faster than me. But you already know that, don’t you?”

She doesn’t think he wants an answer but she nods anyway.

“So fucking act like it.”

He pushes her with two fingers and she topples into the wall behind her, inhaling sharply.

“You’re better than this. A Fera is better than this.”

“Shut the fuck up, Dean.” She warns.

Dean laughs. “Do I have to get you angry, sweetheart? Is that it? Is this a fucking movie where rage overcomes you giving you the strength to fight me?” He laughs again.

“Just shut the fuck up Dean!” She screams.

“Alright, baby, get angry at me if it’s what it takes. But there’s something. Out. There.” He says pointing to a top corner of the room. “And it’s out for blood. And it wants yours. Something the goddamn universe is trying to warn us about, Robin. So you,” He points at her, now. “Need to get fucking ready and you need to do it now.”

Robin takes a deep breath, leaning against the wall. Her body is sore, already aching.

Dean sighs, running a hand through his hair, dragging sweat into it. “With our luck, this isn’t going to be some salt ‘n burn, Robin.”

She nods. The Winchesters had a track record for epically proportioned battles and she has to be ready for it. Besides, technically this was her fight. She nods again. “Alright. Let’s go again.” She says through the tears in her eyes.

They wrestle and box and sweat and bleed and when Robin thinks it’s over Dean says, “We can stop when you can put me down three times in a row.”

It takes her another two hours.

“Jesus Christ.” Sam screeches entering the training room, an old-timey gym.

It’s a few minutes after Robin rolls off of Dean from pinning him down for the fourth time. ‘Overachiever’ he’d murmured with a smirk and that let Robin know the session was over.

“You were supposed to train with her, Dean, not beat the living shit out of each other. Is this what you’ve been doing for,” He looks at his watch. “Seven hours?”

Robin is on her back, heaving. Dean is next to her, sitting with his knees drawn up, elbows resting on them, catching his breath. He points to something. “Give it.”

Sam brings him the bottle. “Dean.” He says in a voice that means business.

Dean sighs after taking a swig. “Robin,” He calls and it’s all she can do not to snap to attention like a fucking soldier. “Any complaints?” He hands her the bottle.

Robin has complaints. She’s got a list of them. It starts with her goddamn hair hurting. “No, sir.” She answers squirting water onto her person instead of drinking it. She doesn’t trust herself not to suffocate on it.

“Good. Because we’re going again in the morning.”

Robin thinks she’s going to cry. “Okay.” She chokes.

Sam shakes his head and puts his hands up in resignation. “Get cleaned up.” He tells them. “Give her fucking medical attention.” He snaps at Dean. “I’m going to get us some dinner.”

He leaves. Minutes pass. Robin is almost certain she’s conscious for all of them.

“Dean?” She finally speaks.

“Yeah?” He takes another sip.

“Has it really been seven hours?”

He offers her the bottle but keeps it when she shakes her head. “Five. We spent almost two hours at the shooting range.”

She nods. She breathes a couple of deep breaths, inhaling through the pinch in her chest.

“Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

“Mm.” Is his only reply.

More minutes pass.

“Dean?”

“Yes, Robin?”

“I really need to pee.”

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 - you are here - 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

Read it on ao3

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