#i see this right in time for the movie whew

[angelplummie]

here for revenge.

being lily's best friend - you grow up with her - you're in the donaldsons orbit for all your formative years. you develop a crush on art that turns into love as you grow older. your home life isn't so glamorous. you spend lots of weekends at the donaldsons. art has tucked you in. brought you snacks when you stayed up late for movie nights, making you and lily promise not to tell tashi. you were there when art and tashi got divored, held lilys hand and pretended not to be happy inside at the thought of getting closer to art.

lily gets into college - a big smart one because she has tashi's ambition and leaves you behind, you're still stuck at home because your dreams have always been smaller.

maybe its not appropriate, to still spend time with art. but he's lonely. tashi left, and now his daughter has and you're the only one left in his life that actually wants to be around him, that has always looked at him with stars in your eyes. its probably not healthy. there should be a boundary there. your lilies, not his.

but you like being around him and he likes having someone to take care of. you come over and he makes you eat something healthy and you needle him about spending all his time at home and how he should get out more, and he rolls his eyes, tells you he should be saying the same to you, you're young and beautiful and you should be dating around.

but how can you date around when art donaldson is your dream man? when you're happiest at his side, eating what he makes you. you want more though. you want to share his bed, warm it for him, you want to make him not so lonely, you want him to stop seeing you as a little girl and as the adult you've grown up to be - so you start wearing less and less around him. start acting more and more like a housewife.

art accepts it without even realizing. now you just need to find the right opportunity to pounce.

WHEW. this one is long so buckle up

“art?”

“mr donaldson.”

you roll your eyes.

“mr donaldson, how come you never started dating again?”

he chopped the lemon with a deft clunk, eyes never leaving the knife.

“never felt the urge.”

“what does that mean?”

“what i just said. never felt the need to.”

“hm.”

you sat on the island, next to the chopping board. your legs swung haphazardly, and you watched art as he chopped.

why was he playing this game? he could’ve told you to leave, to stop coming back and bothering him, that this was inappropriate. and yet. he didn’t even tell you to get your sorry butt off the counter, or some such dad-ism. the low glow of the many warm lamps that adorned such a luxurious house illuminated art so softly, he looked as young as the day lily was born. he was as fit as back then, if not meatier. he didn’t have the pouch your dad had, but the years had given him a thickness. instead of wasting away like most lean men did, he struggled to the other side. he got broader. layer upon layer of muscle encased in a thin finishing of fat. he was skinnier when you were a kid, but he had no reason to be lean now. under his chin a tiny hammock of pudge rested as his head tilted down, kissed by light stubble. his blonde hair was streaked in silver, but that somehow made him younger looking. made him glow. he had grown it out, by your suggestion. he was everything in the world a man should be.

“what about you?”

“i hate boys. they’re all stupid.”

“you got that right. you’re too good for all of them, never settle.”

“maybe it’s just boys my own age. theyre so immature.”

arts wide chest heaves. his eyes flick to you then flick back down. you see it all, and cross one leg over the other.

“maybe.”

“what were you like when you were my age?”

he laughs at the memory.

“stupid, immature, evil. if i was anything to go by you should swear off men entirely until menopause.”

air left your chest cavity.

“i don’t wanna wait. i want a fully formed one.”

you watched the muscles in arts forearms flex as he squeezed the lemon onto salad. the main course was cooking, was singing loudly on the stove. art had gotten into cooking after the divorce. it took all his attention and put it in one place, something complex and delicate and time consuming. it helped to clear his head. it wasn’t helping right this second.

“i shouldn’t say that,” he said curtly,”boys your age aren’t so bad. give them a go and quit hanging out with an old man.”

“but i like you, old man.”

art was so harsh on himself. he really wasn’t that old. and you really weren’t that young.

he pressed his lips together and kept squeezing. his pink lips, that gave his face the everlasting youth it held. he shrugged his shoulders in that way he did when he was confronted with the truth of your arrangement. there was something going on. something very, very, very wrong. you were the same age as his daughter. 3 months younger. he was the worst man in the world. the worst person to ever breathe. what could he do though? tell you to go? tell you to leave his house and never come back? what would become of you then? without him, what pillar of paternity would you rely upon? what new low would you reach? what men would you come across, and what would you do to please them? while he gingerly entertained you, you dangled something in front of his face that others would not have the restraint or morality to resist. if you had to move to another target, your next victim might not care so deeply for your wellbeing. were you not altogether safer, sitting in his kitchen, eating his caesar salad, rather than inhaling second hand cigarettes from old wrinkled fucks who might murder you, or worse-

“art?”

“mr donaldson.”

“you got a bunch of lemon pips in the salad.”

“oh.”

he set down the lemon.

“are you ok? you seem tense.”

“i’m good. are you cold? i can turn on the heating if you like.”

“no. it’s actually quite warm in here.”

he hears the zip of your hoodie and starts away from the island, under the pretence of getting a paper towel to deposit the lemon seeds on. your jumper clatters to the counter, and you watch his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. low cut top. he knows that’s what you’re wearing. because that’s all it’s been for the past 2 months. your mini skirt flowers around you as you sit, but when you stand each swish and sway of the fabric is a death sentence. god forbid you take the stairs for some ungodly reason.

“hey, you know what you said about never having the urge?”

oh, fuck off, he thought. fuck off. leave him be. leave him alone. release him.

“yes.”

“you can’t really mean that can you?”

“sure i can.”

“i mean, you can. but i don’t think you do.”

you twirled a strand of hair in between your fingers. your stomach grumbled, loud enough that he could hear. you were so hungry you could die, but if you ate what art was frying your breath would smell like fish all night.

“let me check the salmon.”

“i’m not that hungry. you can’t mean that you never had the urge to. everyone has urges.”

“well sure. but after tashi, i needed a breather. a grace period, if you will. you can’t go from marriage with a woman like her right into dating.”

“but it’s been 3 years. you must be over it by now?”

he ignored the hope in your voice. ignore, ignore, ignore.

“i am over it. but. women scare me.”

he walked languidly over the salmon. it was ready.

“i don’t scare you, i’m a woman.”

a woman. he turned off the stove, and turned to fix you with a stare for the first time tonight. a woman. that was not the word he would use to describe you. your eyes were the size of saucers, and you bat your lashes languidly, like you knew how much you were making him suffer. you sat up pin straight, and twisted your spine to make eye contact with him. your body. he tried not to look. tried not to look in front of you and see the twisted grin come across your lips. but he was a weak man. the weakest of men, and his eyes dragged over where a fatherly view should never cross. your perky new tits, the press and curve of your ass against the counter, the plush of your thighs. it seemed you had grown up overnight, and didn’t know you were still a baby. you’re a baby. you knew what you were doing to him. you knew. he blushed involuntarily.

“you scare me most of all.”

his voice trembled. he hadn’t meant to say that. hadn’t meant to dignify you will any response at all. it had crossed his mind and then it crossed his lips.

your eyes lit up with extreme delight. he liked to make you happy, but his stomach churned with the thought of why.

“why?”

he turned back around, and plated up your salmon, adding potatos and asparagus from the same pan, drizzling it all in the residual oil.

“why art?”

“mr donaldson.”

a twinge of irritation tickles your stomach. what was he fighting this for? you’re all grown up now. you both knew what was going to happen. he was resisting fate, the inevitable.

all your life you had known he was the man you were meant to be with. from that first time he kissed your forehead as you dozed off on the couch, thinking you were asleep. when his strong arms would carry both you and his daughter, flinging you around, threatening to dunk you in their backyard pool. when he would catch your eye in the rear view mirror as he drove you around and winked. he was so nice. so nice and brave and kind and warm, and if you had to be with any man it should be him because you’ve loved him since you were 8, and now you’re old enough to claim it. you’re not just a dumb kid with a crush. you love him. you understand it being one sided back then. but it isn’t anymore, and you wouldn’t let him deny it. with gliding footsteps you approached him, drawing closer every second he didn’t turn around. a hand rests on his shoulder blade.

“just stop,” you breathed after a pause.

his spatula clattered to the pan with a metallic thunk. you pull your hand away like he burnt you. he gripped the counter with a sigh and hung his head.

“you stop. stop it now,” his voice was stern. you felt yourself shrink. art was never stern.

“i know what you’re thinking, and it’s not going to happen. this has gone on far too long and it stops right now.”

a mere few paces from his wide curved back, you blink. the urge to touch him is overwhelming. you want to press your hand to his back, feel him under your palm and tell him you know he wants this. you know he wants this just as bad as you do.

but you don’t, because he’s angry at you, and he’s never been angry at you before.

“i’ve let you come here and cooked you food and watched movies with you because you’re a good kid. because i knew you as a kid and i know your problems with your father and i wanted to be there for you when lily is away. but you have taken this too far. you’re my daughters best friend. i have cleaned up your vomit twice, i baked you a cake for your 13th birthday- it’s not right. i’ve tried to be understanding, i’ve tried to ignore it, but you never drop it. never. your lack of self respect is staggering. you have to drop it right now or, im sorry but you can’t come back here anymore.”

every muscle fibre was clenched. if the counter top wasn’t marble it would’ve crunch and fell away under his grip. he couldn’t take it anymore. he didn’t know how much longer he could be good. didn’t know how much longer he could take resisting you.

maybe he was harsh. but it was the right thing to do. the only thing to do. he rested his elbow on the counter, and between his forefinger and his thumb held the bridge of his nose. he exhaled loudly. he hadn’t meant for it to come out that way, hadn’t planned it. but now it was out. he had stared the elephant in the room dead in its eyes. he felt lighter, somewhat liberated.

until he turned around after a few too many seconds of silence to see you turned away from him, slightly hunched over. he stepped closer, and saw your hands covering your mouth. you body jolted, and you drew in quick, grasping breaths. you were crying. he said your name, and you didn’t turn to look at him.

“i’m sorry. i’m sorry mr donaldson.”

all the relief he felt was replaced by swift, acute, crushing guilt. your hair fell over your face, shielding you from him. he said your name once more. you sniffed.

“hey, hey hey hey.”

against his better judgement, and because of the aching of his heart, he took you gently by the shoulders, and turned you to face him.

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.”

tears spill from your eyes and you wipe them away with a heavy hand, refusing to meet his eyes. his neck craned down to your eye level, his thumbs began tracing circle in your shoulders. a thoughtless gesture but one that made you cry even harder.

“i’m sorry. i don’t know what i was thinking. im just so sorry.”

“hey, it’s ok. it’s alright.”

“it’s not alright. i’ve ruined everything. i’ve made it- so- weird. i just thought that you- you wanted me. i’m so stupid.”

your mascara runs, painting your face with your turmoil.

how could you be so dense? you had been making him uncomfortable. he didn’t want you. the only reason he even let you hang around was obligation. because of what you meant to lily. you didn’t mean anything to him. you were just some kid. did he even think you’re pretty? you bet he didn’t.

worse than that, you had disappointed him. him. he was supposed to be everything your dad wasn’t. and now he was disappointed. you had failed. you had ruined everything. what even were you? were you even human?

“don’t. you’re not stupid. don’t say that.”

“i’m sorry. i just- i wanted to make you happy. that’s all i ever wanted. i wanted you to be happy with me. you were so- so- so crushed after the divorce, i-i just-“

he guides you over to the bar stool, and you let him. you sit across from each other. his hand touches your cheek, the other holds you shoulder still. the touch of his hand quietens your babbling, your eyes round and wet and open.

“you do make me happy.”

your lips parted, plump with crying.

“i do?”

he cringes at the hope in your voice, at the feeling in his chest that it stirs. the feeling in his whole body at touching, after so many years, your soft skin. the last time he held your face you were 8, crying over a bumped knee. he had very different feelings now than he did then. sympathy and concern had ebbed, making way for much darker, much more corrosive emotions. he felt guilt and want broil in the chambers of his stomach, and the evilness inside him told him how easy to would be to get what he wanted. how close he was.

“yes. you’re my favourite buddy, we have a great time together,” he ruffled your shoulder like you pat a dog, speaking quick to placate you.

the hope in your eyes dwindled.

“so,” you sniffled, “you don’t feel anything for me? you don’t-don’t want me at all?”

with your convulsive sobbing your chest rose and fell, and with each jolt you spilled further out of your thread bare top. he closed his eyes, and swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing. inhaling deeply, his fingers released your shoulder.

“it doesn’t matter what i want.”

“yes it does, it matters the most,” you answer immediately, tears gone from your eyes, now sliding down from your water line and down your cheek, “what do you want?”

what does art want? when was the last time he asked himself that question? years. at least. he drew away from you. you felt sick.

he turned on the stool, ducking his head and cradling his face in his hands

“i want…”

what the fuck was he saying? he couldn’t say this to you. he couldn’t. but he was.

“i… you’re a very gorgeous girl. you’re sweet. you’re smart. you’re funny. i like you very much.”

he said it like he was confessing to murder. elbow resting on his knee, his hand covered his eyes with splayed fingers. god, he was going to hell for this. even saying the words felt like the deepest sin imaginable, and he was sanitising his truth extensively. what he thought about at night, when you went home and his house became cold again, when he got into the shower and mechanically relieved himself into the drain, that was truly deplorable. when he touched himself, it was you he thought of. invariably. everything a man could possibly do to a girl, everything a girl could possibly do to a man, he had laid up in his bed and touched himself to with you in mind. ropes and ropes and ropes of cum in your honour, so gently splattered on shower walls and bedsheets he needed to wash anyway. sometimes he came on his torso, just to feel young and frivolous, like you were. and when he did his brain would turn back on, and he would feel so guilty that he would lay there to soak up his guilt, a punishment for himself from himself. so yes. he wanted you. he wanted you very, very badly. with every fibre of his being, he craved you. and with every fibre of his soul, he hated himself for it. but apparently he was still talking. what his morality urged him his mouth couldn’t hear, or wouldn’t obey.

“so don’t think you’re delusional. you had every reason to think i might reciprocate.”

you watched him, glossy eyes wide as ever. he peeked from beneath his fingers, immediately covering his eyes again when he saw you watch him. he shouldn’t have said that. he shouldn’t have. that was bad, it’s only giving you hope, and there is no hope. he can’t, he can’t. he want to so badly but he can’t. god, no he can’t. it would be so easy but easy isn’t right and how could he ever look his daughter in the eyes again if he did? how could he look at tashi?

“mr donaldson?”

“mm,” he replied miserably.

“kiss me.”

slowly, exhausted, he lifted up his head. mistake. now he was thinking about it as he looked at your face, puffy and damp and shining like a star.

why did he look so disgusted? what was so wrong with you? you couldn’t stop yourself from barreling ahead, feeling his premature rejection like a rock in your stomach.

“just once. then i’ll leave and i’ll never bother you and you won’t see me anymore and i’ll go to church and ill get a therapist, but just once.”

he looks so tired. so tired and so fucking good. his eyes smouldered with deep thought, the thought only a mature man can have. he was so mature. he was so much larger than you. he could hurt you if he wanted to. he could make you do anything but all he did was look at you so tired it made you squirm inside. as your sobs died in your throat, regret and embarrassment become indistinguishable from desire.

he blinked slowly, and opened his mouth. the white of his teeth glittered. his tongue pawed the inside of his cheek. he was thinking about it.

how could he be thinking about it? he was the worst person in the world. and yet. and yet. one kiss. he could control it with one kiss. one kiss wouldn’t hurt. one kiss. he had kissed your head before. your cheek. what was so different about this?

wordlessly, he moved off the stool. heart in your mouth you waited. a tremulous breath shuddered from your chest as he took one step. two steps. three steps. until he was stood above you. his face was unreadable. not cold. not warm. just looking, appraising from above his brown lower lashes, down his strong kissable nose.

“one kiss?”

his hand rose slowly, palm facing upwards. his finger tips grazed your jaw, your chin, tilting your head up. fireworks burst in your stomach, and you resisted the urge to moan.

“one. that’s all.”

one. that would be all. one kiss and he would put this silly fascination away for good. a kiss is deniable. a kiss is nothing.

he stoops down, can feel the nerves vibrating from your skin. his head tilts slightly, and your eyes lock as he descends to your level. his hand moves into your hair, a combing hold. and you kiss. no tongue. your lips connect, mush and expand over the others. his nose touched your cheek. your arms remained stiff by your side as they gripped the stool. you felt the pinkness of his lips, felt the edge of his cupids bow. and then he pulled away.

there. one kiss. he had done what he had to to get you to drop it. had fulfilled your criteria, and now you could move on. now he could move on.

but if that was true, why was he leaning in again? why did almost tasting your saliva, a substance he had thought about in great detail, make him hungrier for it? why was almost having it worse than never coming close? why did he pull gently on your hair, making your head tip back, opening you mouth so he could kiss the part of you he craved; the inside part? why was he hard if it was over?

his tongue flicked gently inside, asking permission. your mouths closed together, making the kiss noise you hate hearing but love making. they open quickly and in sequence. your hands rise up to gently hover over his chest, barely grazing his shirt. you didn’t want to touch him too hard in case he dissipated into a cloud of smoke, an illusion.

but he was very real, and under your timid girlish touch he was undone. a soft exhalation like a groan into your mouth, and his tongue protruded. it touched yours and you tasted the salt on it, shivering. his other hand fell back to your shoulder, gripping so hard it was like had no idea what he was doing. feeling your mouth against his was all that there was. there wasn’t right, there wasn’t wrong, there was only sensation.

all the want he had saved for solitary and depressing masturbation now burst through his veins, into his actions and he kissed you with all the passion in him. with everything he’s never said, with all the times he held back with you, with tashi. he kissed you like if he didn’t he would die, breathing and groaning and grunting involuntarily. he mashed his face to yours, crushing your lips, taking your bottom lip between his teeth before recapturing your mouth in a sloppy open mouthed kiss. it felt like steam evaporated from where your met, so hot and wet.

you didn’t know what was your and what was art, where you finished and art began. you meshed like the broken pieces of a vase slotted against each other. his tongue became so wild it clipped the side of your mouth in its frantic exploration, and you sighed.

ultimately it was you who had to pull away. you pulled your hands into your own chest, gasping for breath. he didn’t move an inch. he gripped your shoulder still, cradled your face the same. he opened his eyes, chest rising and falling graciously.

he surveyed you, still too high from your touch to feel guilt, with lazy eyes. he was so fucked. your eyes sparkled like glitter. your lips shined pearly with his spit. his.

“art?”

“yes?”

“it’s not just one kiss is it?”

despite himself, despite everything, he smiled.

“no. i don’t think it is.”

[queenofallimagines]

hi there!! may i ask some obey me hcs where mc is a professional volleyball player (like of they would watch her tems matchs, how they cheer and things like that) and has a personality like oikawa when she's not playing, but turn into a queen of the court (like kageyama 🕺) when playing? tysm!

A/n: I’m literally so mad I didn’t see this b4 bc I’m watching the haikyuu movie sobbing over karasuno VS nekoma😫 but absolutely! Also I noticed how this got more nsfw closer to the end😭 couldn’t help it😔

Lucifer:

- impressed

- He did think you had a nice body when he first saw you

- But then he hears your trying out for the RAD volleyball team?

- Poor human can’t stand on the same court against literal demons??

- Is what he thought

- He sees Beel ecstatic about your first game and he’s hyping you up sm

- Lucifer goes bc if you get heir he will step in to defend you

- Yk when hinata does his thing and the whole stadiums jaws drop?

- That’s WHAT HAPPENED HERE

- He sees you effortlessly setting to your teammates like you rly are running this show

- Made you captain at tryouts bc hell yeah!!

- They call you the demon Ruler of the court fr

- Imagine being so cocky and prideful and then getting home and being like all chill and regular chaotic

- He thinks your cheating real BAD

- He can’t play but he’s like nah okay against me you can use no spells

- Asmo is making cute merch to wear to your games

- Levi has already watched all your tapes form the human world he’s a expert and he’s never seen a volleyball before

- When you wipe the floor w him he’s like okay,,, maybe you are just that good

- That speed and serve is something dangerous

- When you get his pact he’s at EVERY game

- The way he can feel the pride running through you when you play, and the smirk on your face sends a chill up your spine when you look down on the other team

- He can and will have his hands all over you after a game

- Sorry like he’s euphoric the whole time it’s like edging almost

- Can’t deny how you look in your tight uniform is very appealing too

- Asmo too he can feel the lust for you in the room and he’s LOVING IT

- Brags whew he he gets the chance

Mammon:

- yeah he’s placing bets

- He comes to see you at practice because he skipped class and he knows if he shows up at home without you he’s in trouble

- So he does to idle around

- Jaw literally drops when he sees you obliterate the other side of the court

- Feels greed burning in him and can’t tell if it’s him or you

- The drive to win radiating off of you in waves

- It’s overwhelming

- “When we’re us g’unna tell me you can do THAT?!”

- “You never asked.”

- Lucifer feels a chill when mammon asks you if he can place bets on you winning

- Shows up to every game

- WILL oversee merch sales

- Has a jersey of yours he wears to sleep

- Runs the Stan page w asmo

- Will make sure your gear is in tip-top shape

- Brings you snacks before and after practice

- You think it’s all financially motivated and like 70% is but he’s like so happy and proud of you

- Right w Beel cheering the loudest at your games

- Nobody can even say anything bad bc he will argue them DOWN

- Buys all your jerseys and then saves all the tickets to your games

- Will show up w flowers

- Also sneaks from class to your practices bc he is a SUCKER for that volleyball shorts and knee pad combo

- Watches your games on replay

- Seems like the type to jack off to your games too

- Biggest hype man and will give you a ‘reward’ if you play extra hard during a game

Levi:

- he likes sports anime

- And probably will compete in a swimming event at some school festival bc duh

- But he hears Beel and mammon gushing over you play sports and is like okay well my Henry is so talented but whatever

- Almost died when you come home all sweaty and tired from practice like oop

- Suddenly binge watching every volleyball anime there IS

- Might as well be your coach

- Applies to be manager but like he’s one of the seven lord of hell lmao who’s gunna tell Levi no??

- Yall are kiyoko and Tanaka

- Very cute

- Also wearing merch w asmo they made

- Gets patches of your number to put on his everyday jacket

- Also wears your jersey to sleep

- ALSO ALSO a sucker for them volleyball fits

- Makes sure you’re always hydrated and the gym is the perfect temperature to play games in

- Guilty pleasure is that he really likes seeing you sweaty and panting

- Way how’s your games the way oikawa watches other teams to see how they play

- Actually good at making strategies and figuring out the letters in other teams

- Wants you to teach him to play

- Not bc he wants too but bc you’ll have to help adjust his posture and he can see you spike a lot

- Gets a thrill off of feeling the small bit of envy you feel when you see another good team or they manage to score on you

- Mayyyyyy encourage a little more envy bc you spike the ball even harder and you glare even more

- Yknow he has a thing for you to be mean

- So he’s like biting his lips hearing you trash talk the other team

- Also like mammon where he will have recordings of your games to jack off too

- “You pathetic worm know your place”

- He’s never moaned louder

Satan:

- reads books on Volleyball

- Likes to be wellread and can impress you with terms

- Hears Beel be excited and sneaks off to see you practice

- Slides in slick compliments

- He’s cheeky to a fault

- “I have to ask, do you like volleyball for the adrenaline or is it for the cute outfit?”

- Tease him because he’s not even good at hiding that he’s looking

- “I don’t know. So you like coming to my games to watch me win or stare at my ass?”

- The cat was too stunned to speak

- Chose to come to your games because he was at home alone while everyone else was at your game

- And he was doing some ‘Self Care’

- And he got this lighting bolt of please up his spine

- Needless to say he made quite of a mess

- Hears everyone hyping you up when they come back

- “Remind me to never make ya mad okay MC?”

- “I would!~ the way they were glaring after they slammed the ball down made my heart flutter.”

- Had to go see what the fuss was for himself

- The grunts and yells are really making him hot under the collar

- Used your game tickets as bookmarks

- It makes him smile

- He’s such a tween girl in love he’ll like decorate them in his spare time like maybe press flowers and glue them on encasing it all in resin

- Heart eyes

- Giggles at your trash talk

- Loves seeing you fr have beef w people

- Setters for some reason always have beef during a game idk WHAT IT IS but like they all was glaring daggers

- He’s deeply interested in the setter beef

- “So what’s the story with you and that other setter👀 I could feel a little tension in the air.”

- My hc is that his pact mark is always on your dominant fist

- Bc like yknow punching

- So he feels the sting of your hand when you hit the ball and he rly likes it

- Will offer to massage you after a game when you’re all tired

- An excuse to get nasty and he will spank you w the same hand

- Sigh he can’t help himself unfortunately

Asmo:

- Oh he’s hype

- He’s not one for playing sports

- Buuuuut he does like the appeal of the slutty outfits and seeing people be all aggressive and sweaty

- So when he hears Beel mention you’re tying out for the team he’s immediately intrigued

- He’s probably an honesty cheerleader

- So he’s going to be there dressed to the 9 in YOUR colors every game

- Like not the school colors he’s dripped out in your signature color schemes

- Even somehow gets ahold of an old jersey from the human world and rules it in many outfits

- Brags to people that he has one and it’s signed(pls sign it for him)

- Wears earrings w your number and name on it

- That trope where the head cheerleader kisses the star player bc they’re dating after the game is very him

- Puts in his cutest lipgloss and kisses your cheek

- “Well if it’s you I don’t mind getting all sweaty and out of breath with you~”

- Like I said before he’s feeling off the lust for you in the air

- The lust his brothers feel, the audience, your lust for winning

- He’s intoxicated by it

- He feels his pact mark pulsing and it makes him giggle

- You’d think he’s tickled pink

- But he’s laughing bc he’s about to go crazy after this mf game

- Is hyper focus on how your outfit stretches over you when you move

- Watches you work out

- Bc like let’s be real he’s down to mess round in the gym showers

- Another one to give you a nice ‘Reward’ for playing so well

- Has all these suspiciously seductive pictures of you playing like when did he even take this picture of you bending over??

- Can’t help but to let his hands wander

- Instead of having a jersey to sleep in he will sleep in your whole uniform

- Like you’re looking for it in the morning to go to practice and he’s sleeping in it

- “Well not it smells like me!”

- Sigh

- Well want to get nasty in it but he’s torn between you in it or him in it

- Hardest decision in your life

- Asmo and Levi decked out in your merch and Levi stalks the Stan pages for the best pictures and asmo runs like 3 of em

Beel:

- my beautiful beloved!

- You come meet him at fangol practice and ask him if they have any other sports

- He mentions offhandedly that the volleyball team is doing tryouts for the new season and you’re like 👀 bet let’s see how yall play

- Comes with you to make sure you don’t get like picked on or anything

- Amazed by seeing what you can do and how confident you get

- Went from like shy brand new human to being the demon ruler of the court he’s so hyped

- “MC where did you learn to do that??”

- “Hard work and a lot of spite✨”

- If anyone got something to say no tf they don’t bc he’s your bodyguard

- Makes sure your games aren’t scheduled at the same time bc he’s not missing your games

- Enjoying your games when he feels a familiar feeling of hunger

- He heard all the other brothers talking about their pact marks feeling funny but he’s like meh

- Starts thinking that maybe you didn’t eat enough before the game

- But when he sees you smiling as your team wins he understands

- That gluttony you feel isn’t towards food but volleyball

- Huh. Interesting

- Not one to immediately get nasty after a game he will want to treat you to snacks first but he mayyyy want to help you get charged after practice

- I mean like you’re exhausted and your muscles are all sore like it’s totally innocent!!

- Wears your jersey number as a patch on his jacket

- But also would have a cute necklace w the number on it like right along w his gold chain

- Whew

- Dangles over your face when he fucks you

- He’s glad you both can workout together 🥰

Belphegor:

- sleepy

- Not really interested in sports

- But he goes to heels games to cheer him on

- Beel drags him to a game of yours

- Likes how hot you look playing

- Like Satan will make comments about the outfit

- “Are you sure the shorts are supposed to be that short?”

- “They don’t restrict my movement”

- “Hm…. Good to know.”

- Another who steals your jersey and sleeps in it

- Might put it over a pillow to sleep on

- Lazily wants to hold you after a game night

- “Mmmm just rest, you’ve done so much moving around relax with me.”

- Sweeps you into sweet dreams whether you want to sleep or not

- Will have his own wet dreams about you in your outfit

- Will go to the game and cheer with asmo to hype you up

- Likes seeing you set the ball to your teammates and how you can read their minds and direct the game

[wave2tyun]

policy of truth and lies | ☆

pairing: huening kai x reader

genre: highschool!au (kinda), band!txt, brother's best friend!kai, fluff, a bit suggestive

summary: a little white lie never hurts sometimes. to what lengths are you willing to go to protect it?

warnings: mentions of throwing up

word count: 3.3k

a/n: this all started just from my silly little desire to write a fic with the brother's best friend trope absdjhabj but honestly, this is one of the fics that i am most proud of, it has a special place in my heart :(<3 shout out to all my dear ningdungies!!!!😼😼💞 i love you all a lot!!!!<33 (and i hope you manage to survive this!!!)

☆ = repost from my old blog!!

“carefully planned-out coincidences” - that’s what your encounters with kai were; something that would appear unsuspicious to the naked eye, yet so obvious to a love connoisseur.

a fixed set of rules had been established in order for such meetings to be successfully completed, and continued.

1. no texting each other when you’re next to others. people love to snoop and steal a glance at your phone screen, getting you easily busted.

2. no form of physical touch is allowed on school grounds, unless you’re well-hidden. you never know what pair of eyes could be lurking around.

and, the most important one of them all: 3. do not, under no circumstances, get caught by soobin.

your brother tended to be more of a quieter person with an almost inhumane kind of calmness in him. that, however, did not apply when it came to unveiling lies. had he found out you had been kissing his best friend behind his back, it would have certainly not turned pretty. you knew that the longer you kept it away from him, the harder it would be to reveal the truth. even so, you kept postponing it, as you couldn’t figure out the right way to do it. you couldn’t just randomly go up to him and say: “remember that halloween party we held last year? yeah, me and kai kissed while you were in pain, next to the toilet bowl, releasing the obscene amount of sweets you had eaten that night”.

it was not the most romantic scenario, obviously, but it was one of the very few moments when soobin and kai weren’t glued at the hip, and neither of you could take the tension anymore. taking your brother’s pitiful cries out of the image, the kiss was actually quite sweet. and no, it wasn’t because of the jelly beans kai had eaten prior to that- maybe only party. the actual reason was kai’s hand on your waist, accompanied by the breathy “can i…?” that he whispered against your cheek.

as cheesy as it may sound, it’s a night that you will never forget.

-for various reasons.

one of them being the fact that it was pretty much the the starting point of a certain “shift” in your relationship with kai. from that day onward, it seemed like both of you tried to find as many opportunities as possible to be in each other’s presence. oh- kai came over and wanted a glass of water from downstairs? whew- well, you were thirsty too, looks like you had to go to the kitchen with him. kai was left on dish-washing duty after parties? you could spare a few minutes to help him out. movie night with the boys? the only free spot was so conveniently the one next to kai.

it was thrilling, adrenaline-inducing. you could never be too sure whether you were subtle enough, or completely alone, so you had to walk on eggshells every single time, no matter what. it got exhausting though, and you wished that, at least for once, kai could come over to your house to see you, not soobin.

kai, on the other hand, was definitely more of a risk taker than you, one that saw no harm in breaking some of the rules every once in a while.

and there are no risks, without possible consequences.

it was something that kai had learned…the hard way…on the lovely day of february 14th.

soobin had invited kai to spend the day together, playing games and trying out all the mystery flavors of a heart-shaped chocolate box. initially, they weren’t supposed to be the ones indulging in the sweet treat, but soobin had chickened out before giving it to his crush at school that day. sulking uncontrollably, he called his best friend so that they could console themselves from the soul-crushing fact that they were both (to soobin’s knowledge) “single”.

while he felt bad for his downcast pal, kai also couldn’t take his mind off you. love was in the air, after all: the rom-com that played on his tv as he was getting ready to come to your house, the lovey-dovey songs playing on the radio, the couples getting affectionate on the streets- they only added further to the burning desire that he felt today, more than ever, to see you. and perhaps…not only see you.

depending on the situation, those coincidences would often consist of: hand-holding underneath blankets or tables, winks sent to redden the other one’s cheeks and, if you were lucky, an exchange of swift, tiny pecks.

none of the outcomes above satisfied him though. the more he thought about crossing paths with you, the more he wished to caress your face, to hold you in his arms- to have an intimate moment with you that involved something more than a “kiss and run” type of situation.

“hey- the race started, why are you not moving?” soobin exclaimed, his mario kart character moving way farther than kai’s across the screen.

snapping out of it, kai shook his head, placing the controller down onto the coffee table before excusing himself “i have to go to the bathroom-” he said as he placed one hand on his stomach, mustering up all his theatre acting skills to put on a pained expression on his face “i think those sweets aren’t sitting right with me”

as soon as he finished that statement, kai basically flew up the stairs, skipping 2-3 steps at once. he made sure to flip the light switch to the bathroom before striding towards your room, to make it seem like he was there.

kai made his entrance with a finger over his lips and a catlike smile.

“what are you doing? you can’t be in here-” you whisper-shouted. kai had never- ever been in your room up until that point. it was too dangerous.

however, you still gave in, not pushing him back through the door he came in from.

he walked closer, coming to cup your face in his hands “i wanted to see you”

“is that so?” you asked coyly.

kai smiled more, sensing the bit of happiness sneaking into your voice beside your attempts to appear mad at him.

“it is so” he answered, waver in his voice from excitement.

“if you don’t believe me, then i guess i could go back to soob-”

“no-” you tugged kai’s arm, laughing “stay, i was kidding”

kai turned on his heel, lips falling into place perfectly on top of yours, transferring his smile to you in an instant “you know i didn’t intend on actually doing it” he whispered, caressing your cheek.

“i know” you chuckled “but you have to make it up to me for the teasing”

you pulled at the collar of kai’s shirt, waiting for him with closed eyes to initiate another kiss. kai chuckled before connecting your lips back together, starting off with agonizingly quick pecks, then attempting to initiate something more through longer, fervent kisses that trailed down to your neck, all while he slowly made you walk backwards to your bed. it wasn’t long before you hit the mattress and the two of you ended up tangled in your sheets, with one hand tugging at kai’s hair and the other one at his shirt as he hovered over you. soft gasps escaped through your mouth- the only acceptable way to lightly catch your breath, as it didn’t involve letting go of each other.

a knock on the door, however, sent kai flying through the air.

“y/n? can i come in?” soobin asked, completely oblivious to the events happening on the other side of the piece of wood that his knuckles had grazed a second ago.

the strong fear that he’d come barging in before you answered, turned you to push the poor lover boy away earlier, catapulting him onto the floor, the fluffy rug hardly alleviating his pain.

“what was that sound- are you hurt?” you heard a worried shout. it was a clear sign that you had no more than five seconds to prepare for disaster.

“i’m coming in, okay?”

seeing the doorknob twist, kai had no time to process his anguish. he wriggled his way underneath your bed, pulling down the blanket to hide his body.

“everything alright…?” soobin took two steps into your room then froze. the sight of your disheveled bed as well as your poor, motionless figure, scrambled up his feelings of concern with confusion.

“yeah- never been better” you replied, brushing out any folds on your clothes with your hand.

soobin’s eyebrow raised in suspicion; it was hard to make your breathing seem normal when your lungs burned like an athlete who had ran a marathon.

“i swear i heard a loud noise coming from your room-”

“nope, uh- nothing here. i was sleeping before you came in” you yawned, stretching your arms up in the air to reinforce your previous statement.

kai placed a hand over his mouth, careful so as not to move the blanket or make any sounds- why did you have to say something that would direct soobin’s attention right in his direction? your brother sneaked another glance at your bed, judging its unusually messy state.

“are you building a bird nest or something?” he huffed, placing his hand on the doorknob, about to leave “don’t answer that actually- i don’t want to know. i just wanted to tell you that the pizza is gonna arrive in about thirty minutes. if you don’t come down on time, i can’t promise that there’ll be any left for you”

with that, the door was shut, allowing your body to slide down to the floor in relief- and the breath trapped in kai’s lungs to be released.

it was only after this incident that kai’s venturesome nature seemed to be slightly tamed. not once did he try to sneak into your room again, nor did he dare to bring up the matter. the one and only thing that he could do, was to look up at you with troubled, wary eyes as he pecked your lips, knowing that it didn’t stand in his power to do more.

nevertheless, it wasn’t long before he proceeded to go back to his usual antics, the feeling inside his heart all too unbearable.

after all, not everyone can resist temptation, can they?

people knew that it wasn’t an unusual occurrence for you to be spotted in and outside the school with the most in demand band of the city, txt- your school’s pride and joy, which both your brother and his best friend were part of. so, whenever you tagged along with them, say it were to a local show, backstage, or during rehearsals, no one questioned a thing.

what was uncommon though, was you receiving private messages from the band’s notably fine pianist, kai, and giggling while responding to him, on top of it all.

this scene was witnessed by a certain someone who you thought had fallen fast asleep in the middle of class. little did you know how effective the bell ringing was to wake him up and how he had the most perfect view to the conversation taking place on your phone screen.

kai

[9:17 am] can you stay after the rehearsal today?^3^

[9:18 am] i miss you…

the witness slowly placed their head back on their desk, choosing to stay silent. this kind of matter required evidence, direct confirmation, and therefore they chose to follow you around for the rest of the day, like a shadow, thoroughly analyzing your words and actions; the texts were your first strike of the day, could there have been anything else you were keeping in the dark? the answer is yes, and you can take that literally- it turns out that the lonely, far corner of the school library makes a good spot for “discreet” pda.

you and kai were tucked away in that poorly lit spot, hugging, laughing- blissfully unaware of the third pair of eyes there with you, glossed with anger and action-driven by betrayal.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“and that’s a wrap- good job guys” yeonjun clapped his hands, turning from the microphone stand to face the group with a smile.

“kai, cleaning duty is on you today. make sure you don’t forget to lock up the doors before you leave” yeonjun threw the keys in kai’s direction, which he caught effortlessly.

“what? you always ditch on me when we get paired up together- what could have possibly gotten in the way this time?” kai’s brows furrowed in annoyance. he wasn’t one to enjoy picking a fight, but yeonjun was taking too much advantage of his compassionate nature. he had enough of all the chores landing on him every week, without fail.

“scored a date with that girl from the mall” yeonjun winked “which, by the way- starts in less than half an hour. so, i gotta go, sorry buddy. maybe you can get somebody else to help you”

everybody else’s eyes turned to the floor after yeonjun parted ways with them, blurting out random reasons to be excused: “i have a project to finish” “i did it last time” “i just don’t want to do it” ; nobody was enthusiastic about staying at school overtime.

nobody, except for you. you were about to say an excuse of your own when the realisation hit you: you and kai? alone? with none of the boys around? it was a rare occurrence, one even rarer than the blue moon. you couldn’t simply pass by it.

“i can help you”

soobin watched you from the corner of his eye, biting his tongue to prevent any words from slipping out. you had stayed behind to help the members out before, it would be weird if he only started commenting on the matter when it was kai you were going to stay with.

“we’ll leave you to it then” beomgyu swung his arms around soobin’s and taehyun’s shoulders, leading them towards the door before you could change your mind.

“yeonjun always does this” kai huffed, picking up the acoustic guitar from the floor “i love him but- for once, i wish he’d keep his word- or at least not cancel on me last minute” the more his spoke, the more reckless his movements became.

“careful with that- no matter how cheerful beomgyu might be most of the time, i don’t think he’d be too happy to see his guitar destroyed by you”

“sorry” he said bashfully, resting his body against the wall with a sigh “i guess i’m just fed up with everything”

as you placed a hand over kai’s cheek, his eyelids fluttered shut, comfort already washing over him.

“would a kiss make you feel better…?”

kai nodded eagerly “i might need more than just one kiss though” he whispered, bringing his hand to the back of your neck to pull you back closer.

his kisses were playful at first, with smiles and chuckles interrupting every once in a while. then, when he switched positions, bringing you to be the one trapped against the wall, he began alternating between pecking your lips and lightly biting them, chaste touches soon turning into something more…heated. hands brushing over each other’s bodies in a frenzy, swollen red lips caught in an endless, desperate chase, like you had never had a taste of something sweeter.

what had gotten into you both? doing something this risky in such an “honourable” place. it was the lousy heap of all your lies and yet the most enthralling point of them all.

too bad that adrenaline rushes don’t last forever though.

you felt kai’s heart thump against your chest as you cupped his jawline to bring him back for more, but your next kiss never came to fruition.

“am i interrupting something?” the person standing at the door’s threshold cleared their throat to grab your attention.

you felt your blood turn cold upon hearing the sound. having a hunch about the sight ready to greet you, you turned your head at an awfully slow pace.

“care to give me an explanation?” soobin stood with his arms crossed, the expression on his face indecipherable.

in a single day, all of the rules you swore you’d follow like a saint, for the sake of your relationship, had been broken.

kai was dismissed from the room by soobin without being given a chance to speak. it was your words he wanted to hear first and foremost, it was you who left him the most perplexed ever since he took a furtive look at your phone screen this morning, or since he saw what you were up to in the library.

you were silent, rubbing your hands with your head hanging low. lies can’t last forever, you knew that, but you wished the right to make that dreadful reveal was in your hands to hold.

your brother cleared his throat, awkwardly shifting his position in the plastic chair he sat down on. when he abandoned the boys earlier because he “forgot something” in the practice room, he didn’t have a concrete plan in mind.

“how long?”

“what?” you murmured.

soobin repeated himself “for how long has this been going on? this…thing between you and kai?”

your throat went dry- your first instinct was to spit out another lie. upon better thought though, you realised it was have been ridiculous to even try and deny anything, given the fact that you were caught mid-act. the only actual option left for you was the raw, honest truth:

“…a year” you said reluctantly. soobin only nodded his head.

the silence soon felt direful, and neither of you could tolerate it. soobin turned his head up to look into your eyes, he got the answers he was looking for, now it was his turn to be sincere with you.

“y/n, i’m not the one who chooses who you’re gonna love- and as much as it bothers me that, out of all the people, it’s my best friend who you fell for- i can’t tell you to stop seeing kai”

his words turned your mind in even more of jumble than before. that was it? no screaming? no need to pull out the classic “but i love him“? it was a rare occurrence for the two of you to settle things so easily, it felt like you were suddenly picked up and placed in an alternate universe.

“so, what i’m getting is…you’re approving of our relationship?” you asked, feeling the need to have a definite confirmation of his feelings; none of the scenarios you had imagined before where you revealed your relationship matched the result of this one.

soobin hummed “as long as you don’t hoard him on the weekends- he might be your boyfriend now, but he was my friend first. i’ll have him on saturdays and you can have him on sundays, deal?”

you smiled, shaking his stretched out hand “deal”

“shouldn’t kai have a say in this too though?”

“something tells me he’s already agreed to it” soobin laughed, pointing at a “totally-not-eavesdropping-kai”, the half-open door revealing his pink cheeks along with both of his thumbs up.

taglist: @huekalover3000

[cloveroctobers]

FALSE STARTS — CARMY BERZATTO [Summer Writings]

A/N: Getting down to my final collection to these summer writings…I strongly debated if I wanted to even write for carm this time around, the man is always going through it…not saying that I won’t ever again because I ofc have love for the guy but whew!!! Never giving up on him but—you guys get it? You just have to let some things sink in after watching the seasons…so here’s something possibly short? Knowing me my definition of short is not always reliable kinda like Carmy’s mental state—OOP. Too much?

WARNINGS: Added a OC, another berzatto again to the mix because I can also see Kyle being on the show and I’ve got a soft spot for him as well SORRY! I feel it in my spirit for smile 2 that it’s NOT going to end well but let’s be delusional! Slight reference to that horror movie in here as well, Still x reader based but you just have a name since I didn’t want to write in 2nd POV, along with some background for you and Carmy’s friendship, language, mentions of s**c***e & some spoilers for season three if you’re not caught up yet!

SYNOPSIS: Carmy runs into more than just his past and blood, forever learning what his next steps are, if his head will let him that is.

*GIFS BELONG TO: @emziess + @andrew3garfield !

☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘

The last thing Carmy expected was to see, Joel Berzatto at the pick up window during the lunch rush. Carmy’s been on autopilot the second week into the grand opening and he was already frustrated with the new hires. They didn’t have what it takes and Carmy didn’t have the patience to teach them, especially when they didn’t put in the effort to learn.

All they cared about was a paycheck.

He couldn’t teach what should have already been known.

Carmy already shocked himself, not blowing a fuse, deciding to just head out back silently with a carton of cigarettes. He vowed at some point he was going to quit these things and faught hard about the stick that was perched in between his lips. He’s pacing along the rocks and dirt on the side of the bear, back of his lighter racking against his fingers as he took a two minute break.

There was no time to make it five.

“Carmen,” a voice greets, making his bright blues turn to the voice.

It’s Joel.

Michelle’s younger brother.

He’s got a bag to go, bunched up underneath his fingers and his badge on his waist glimmers from underneath his earthy toned attire for work. Carmen reminds himself to blink, coming to terms that this is indeed his family—on his father’s side—at his place of business.

“Joel?” Carmen echoes but it’s more of a question.

Joel snickers as there’s still a great distance between the two family members, “yeah I was wondering when I was going to get caught red handed.”

Carmen clears his throat after removing the cigarette from his lips, “you’ve ordered something to go?”

That’s obvious but he’s trying to fill up the silence, which is always so loud even in the city.

Joel scratches at his brow, a small smile playing on his face, “‘Course I did. I was in the area and my partner wanted some other shit, he’s vegan or vegetarian and I knew that would be a disappointment so I snuck over here to get my money’s worth.”

“Yeah?” Carmy’s eyes flick back to the bag, “what’s your poison?”

Joel laughs, “can’t ever go wrong with a classic, am I right?”

Which only meant one thing: Italian Beef with extra peppers, just how he always got it, even when they were younger. Joel was older than Carmy, more around Nat’s age but he always found a way to bring up something to talk about once Michelle, Mikey, and Richie brought the house down with their boisterous voices.

“I’ve mentioned to Sugar that Sam and I can’t wait to try out the dinner menu but it hasn’t been the best time…” Joel hints, almost as if he’s apologizing for not showing his face.

There was tension at the beginning.

Joel was this big detective.

Always the persistent one and trying to solve something. It only made sense that he chose this profession but Joel did piss the family off when he tried to come up with this conspiracy theory that Mikey didn’t kill himself and that someone else pulled the trigger. His perspective? It was probably someone who Mikey bought those painkillers off of and in Joel’s mind, he thought he was doing the family a good service but instead he had his own denial about Mikey’s passing as well.

There’s been two big death’s in Joel’s life that he had to face before with his fiancée who took her own life as well. A psychologist at that. That happened years before Mikey…and Carmy can only imagine how fucked he’s been in the head too and maybe detective work gave him some sort of solace—in a twisted way.

They were family after all and grief is handled in different ways they say!

Carmy picks up on the name referred to and questions, “Sammy? You guys are still together?”

Joel snickers but doesn’t seem offended by any means, “Yeah, can’t seem to get rid of her.”

He jokes but Carmy knows that would be the last thing Joel wanted.

“She always tells me to send her love whenever I do stop by for lunch…we just don’t want to disrupt anything you guys have going on.” Joel admits and that actually makes Carmy frown.

He clenched his eyes shut for a moment with a shake of his head, “she wouldn’t—you guys wouldn’t. You’re both family too…it’s just been a lot.”

“Yeah but at some point I think we’ve got to stop making excuses,” Joel shrugs, “No pressure on our end. You should stop by the house one day, Samora would love to see you. It’s been awhile you know?”

Carmy nods.

It has.

Samora’s been one of Carmy’s oldest friends.

The friendship happened to be one of those, catch you when I catch you type of things, or if seeing someone mutual and he so happened to come up, she always related her love for him. That’s just how they operated, even if was at a distance and there wasn’t any bad blood.

Life went on.

Separately for them.

And she’s apparently been going strong with his blood cousin, Joel, for who knows how long? Carmy can’t believe he’s almost forgot what it felt like to have a friend like her.

“Yeah, I should.” Carmy agrees, “Nat’s got your number right? I’ll have to get it from her and reach out to see what’s best for you guys?”

Joel raised his brows at this.

He didn’t think Carmy would even respond to that. Carmy’s always been the kind of guy that found the nicest corner in the room and chose to stay there, it was what he was comfortable with: seeing all sides of the room and the nearest exit.

“Well Sam’s mostly working out of the house now, business picked back up for her in the last year, thankfully.” Joel answers with an inhale, “I’m the one that’s mostly gone all the time not getting the chance to really live in the house but…whenever you want. We don’t mind pop in’s—usually.”

Carmy nods, “cool—uh? I got to get back in there but I hope you enjoy the sandwich and maybe fucking try something else huh?”

Joel’s always been the sandwich and chips kind of guy. Easy going. Compassionate and soft spoken. Carmy’s only ever saw Joel pissed one time as far as he can remember. Of course when carmy brought up the interest of taking cooking seriously, Joel offered a listening ear and would admit he hardly knew what kind of fancy dishes Carmy was talking about but once he brought out the sketches? Sold! Joel couldn’t be more thrilled to see Carmy finding something to be passionate about.

It took time but he did it.

Joel picks up on Carmy’s teasing tone and points the bag at him, “I don’t tell you how to run your business, Carm. So don’t get in between a man and his favorite hoagie.”

A crooked smile appears on Carmy’s face at that as he slowly starts to retreat, “alright, fair enough.”

“Keep it up, bear.” Joel tells Carm, “beginnings can be rough but everything looks phenomenal…from what I can see anyway.”

Did it feel that way?

Carmy couldn’t tell you.

A week and three months it took for Carmy to show up to the familiar Greystone. It was after the review came in and Carmy was back on mode: disconnect, taking a much needed walk that led him right back to the usual busy area where the home sat; that had history there. He’s not positive how long he’s been standing there, peering up at the picturesque home beyond the fence.

Eventually he works up the nerve to stand at the front door, head just kissing it as he debates about knocking. His stomach feels like an off track dryer machine and his head is telling him that he has no place showing up to this house. Samora wouldn’t want to see him and Joel was just talking back then, never expecting Carmy to take up the invitation.

Carmy’s got the number from Sugar and found out where they stayed. It was the same address of where Sammy grew up, a home from her great grandparents that was passed all the way down to her. Legally she got the greystone since her foster turned adopted siblings weren’t biologically in the family and only one of them seemed to put up a fight about it anyway, only wanting the cash and not caring about how significant the home was.

He remembered that.

And so, he knocks.

He’s heading towards the gate by the time the front door swings open but the sound of the woman calling out his name, stops him in his tracks. He exhaled, dropping his hand from pulling the gate back, lifting his head before turning back to the woman on the stoop.

“It is you! Well don’t just stand there, get up here you little turd.” She’s waving her hands along and Carmy moves.

They’re face to face and it’s been ages.

Both of their eyes traces over one another’s faces but Samora is the first to yank him by the shoulders into her arms. He’s tense but finds himself placing his chin into her own shoulder, shaky hands going to her spine. Samora’s hugs have always been tight but Carmy’s never had a problem with pressure.

Much.

“Damn, I hope I didn’t get paint all on your fresh suit. What’s that? Givenchy?” Samora pokes fun as she playfully flicks the tip of his nose.

Carmy smacks her hand away realizing that she is in fact covered in paint all over her shorts overalls and there’s a dry paint swatch right on her left cheek. A awful chartreuse color, which she always seemed to like the brightest of colors others like to hate on.

In a sense Samora tried to see the good in most things.

“No,” Carmy feels a small smirk appear on his own cheek, “you’re good.”

And she welcomes him inside.

The once old home has been refreshed and Carmy can’t tell you the last time he’s been in here but the changes are evident. The first set of walls were now white, making the short entry way feel bigger and as they both turn to the right towards the living room, the view of the front porch at night feels like many summers ago when they both would sit out there, him on his back, arms tucked behind his head and Samora right beside him cross legged as she stared out towards the traffic lights.

They could sit out there for hours together, comfortable in silence or Carmy listening to Samora curse up a storm when she got confused trying to learn chess with a board her great-grandfather made. A slab of wood with a built in drawer to keep the pieces on the side, it would get stuck sometimes but she always handled with care.

“Carmen Berzatto…can’t believe you came to see little ‘ol me…unless you’re looking for Joel?” Samora says over her shoulder, still waving him along through the dinning room towards the grand kitchen.

He awkwardly stands off to the side in the kitchen while Samora lets out a yawn with a shake of her head before moving forward with searching through the cabinets. “I uh—not necessarily.”

“He’s at work anyway, getting buried into another one of his insane cases that he’s not supposed to tell me about but we all know how I am—I’m going to find out regardless.” Samora places two shot glasses down, noticing that Carmy had moved closer to the island counter now.

He did know actually.

They went to school together, been through a lot of typical high school bullshit together. He always felt like the sidekick, whereas he was the shy and reserved one, Samora had other friends that she didn’t mind putting to the side to hang out with Carmy for. Her response would be whenever Carmy asked why she kicked them to the curb to be around someone boring would be, “I know who my lifelong friends are, surely.”

“Surely,” was always Samora’s word and, “Duh,” happened to be Nat’s.

Sophomore year when Konstantinos “Tino,” Pappas found his next target in Carmy and thought it would be funny to sic his Rottweiler on him one day (he had asthma and could barely run a mile but loved skateboarding) when he had to walk home alone after school one day, he glossed over it, saying that he just tried to hop the fence as a shortcut to get home and got stuck on it instead.

He didn’t mention the dog snatching his backpack, or the nasty nip mark on his lower back, his shirt ripping after it got stuck on the spikes, and colliding face first with a sharp rock, that left a faint knick on his cheek until this day, if you got close enough to see it you would notice. Donna believed Carmy’s lies although she knew Carmy was a more take his time kind of kid but all she wanted to do was get back to her daily cocktail, Nat was concerned but Carmy also brushed her off, saying he was fine, and when Mikey saw the marks, he hammered him with questions, leaving a teenage Carmy to grow sick of his big brother being on his case so he shut him out too.

And what did Mikey Berzatto do?

He went right to a sick Samora to find out what she knew. She had been home for the past three days, down with a fever she caught from her new foster sibling and swore that she would find out. Shook on it with the older Berzatto, who bid his farewells of how good she is to his kid brother, which meant she would always be good people in Mikey’s eyes. And when she did find out? She came right back to school that Monday, noticing the laughter from Tino and his friends down by their locker with a whole camcorder of the incident, which wasn’t far from her’s and Carmy’s.

Carmy lifted his hand to greet the teen but when she was on a mission? It was tunnel vision. She didn’t care if there were teachers at the end of the hall, she snatched the camcorder from one of Tino’s friends, shoving him out of the way, before getting to Tino. A fist met his eye that day and that resulted in a suspension and detention after learning what Tino did.

If you thought Carmy was pissed before about Nat’s overbearing nurturing ways and Mikey bugging him about the marks, then you can only imagine how annoyed he was with Samora after that. That resulted in a stupid fight and with Samora even dating Tino for two whole days—the goal was to break his heart anyway.

Teenagers? Am I right?

“Check this out,” Samora grins as she pours this green liquid into the shot glasses and makes sure to get a piece of cucumber? floating at the top to decorate it with, “I’ve been experimenting and since Joel can’t be my rodent of a taste taster tonight. I present to you chef Carmy, Cold Cucumber green Gazpacho. A chilled soup—as I’m sure you are aware of—since you know how I feel about soups in the summer.”

“…you want me to try this?” Carmy picks up the glass, eyeing it.

Samora dips her head, “surely and if you don’t do that pinched lip thing, then I know it’s trash.”

Carmy flicks his eyes to her with a frown, “what’re you talking about?”

She folds her first four fingers over her thumb, tapping them together, “I don’t know! It’s a thing! You do it when you’re yelling too but at least I know you’re focused so, go on.”

Carmy shakes his head with a slow close of his eyes. He didn’t know what she was talking about at all but he can’t say he was surprised she picked up on this, she was an interior decorator after all.

Detail was always crucial.

“That’s,” Carmy starts after seeing Samora toss her head back not long after himself, “fresh.”

Samora grins, “not bad for a beginner, huh? Easy peasy and quick! Make sure you shout me out if you make this an appetizer or something at the restaurant, will ya?”

“You got it.” Carmy comments making a mental note to do something green next time on the menu, savoring the smooth and freshness with a hint of a zing dish as Samora carefully places the bowl back into the fridge.

Sighing she turns to rest her elbows onto the counter, “Now…bestie Carmy Berzatto…what’s wrong?”

His eyes shift, “N-Nothing. I saw Joel the other day and he brought you up—

“How long ago was that?” She interrupts.

He fires back, “…awhile? Does it matter?”

“No…you know I don’t sweat the small stuff.” She blinks, “Long as I knew you were thriving then that’s all I can wish for but I know my friend and I’m sensing that you’re not okay. You’re avoiding.”

Carmy’s tapping his finger along the side of the glass but Samora doesn’t relax her burning stare, “what—

“Did you see your niece yet?” Samora quizzes and he quickly closes his eyes, running a hand through his hair, she can tell he’s mentally cursing at himself, “she’s a beautiful baby. I had groceries sent to Nat and Pete’s the other day—

“Is this your way of reminding me of how shitty I’ve been at communicating and being present because I don’t need it. I already feel that.”

Samora sticks her tongue in her cheek and pushes back, “No shock there, Carmy. I know you. So what exactly triggered you today that made you finally come here to see me?”

Carmy starts chewing on his lips, eyes not connecting with Samora’s as she tilted her head to the side, waiting. It feels like forever to get an answer so Samora moves around the island, squeezing his shoulder, “let’s go up to the roof, maybe the fresh air and not the fumes of paint will help ease you into it. Thanks for knocking by the way, I may have seen a glimpse of the other side because of it before you got here.”

“What?” Carmy spits out in concern as she pulls at his wrist.

Samora laughs, “if you tell Joel, I’ll have to keep you here and bury you in the front yard.”

Carmy blinks with a roll of his eyes.

They’re on the rooftop, there’s less cars as the night carries on. Carmy’s lost count of how many times the street lights flick from red, yellow, to green and back again. Samora allows carmy to take his time, one leg curled up underneath her with her head thrown back staring up at the twinkle of stars on a hot summer night. There’s barely a breeze but they’re alright.

“I saw the shit stain tonight.”

Samora tossed an arm over her forehead, leaned back in the comfy cushioned blue lounge chair, “yeah? There’s plenty here in chicago, so which one? Don’t tell me you saw the walking jump-scare, Tino?”

“Who?” Carmy presses but Samora can tell he’s not going down that path of the past.

She fans her hand to tell him to continue.

“This guy. One of the best chef’s I worked for in New York, he was at the funeral. There was a funeral for this restaurant, Ever.” Carmy begins to tell his old friend, mindful that she’s been out of the loop.

Samora looks around the night sky and snaps her fingers with a nod of her head, “yeah um, Chelly—mostly Stevie said something about a strict chef you were working with but of course it was vague, which leaves me to believe that you didn’t tell chelly much but she’s great at reading in between the lines much like myself.”

Carmy doesn’t tell her exactly what Chef David said to him a hour ago but tells her what his words made him feel yet again. Small. Incapable. How he has to triple check everything, take charge with no regard for his team that’s supposed to be family, and ultimately that he shouldn’t have a team because he was better off alone. How he should be grateful to be where he is now because of all that Chef David taught him.

“Oh nooooo, Chef charred asshole better be lucky I wasn’t there,” Samora mumbles, “He sounds like a narcissistic dick of a man who gets off on attempting to morph you into him and to me? That doesn’t sound like a brilliant or best of the best chef or even a person! it sounds weak and miserable.”

“It’s what I signed up for.” Carmy almost argues and Samora sits up.

She knows this stems from much more than what he experienced in that restaurant in New York.

“I haven’t been around you in a while but I’ve always been on the sidelines. You accomplished all of these things because you knew you could—you fought. You worked hard and earned this.” Samora reassures, “but these false ideas that you have because of what someone else caused shouldn’t diminish anything that you’ve done and continue to do.”

Carmy pulls out his phone and a pack of chewing gum, “tell that to my brain then. The review is up, Sammy.”

Samora’s eyes meet Carmy’s as he shoves a square piece into his mouth, elbows on his knees as they start to bounce, head dropping just a bit. She reaches for the phone, giving him a side eye since there’s no passcode on it, and is brought right to a webpage.

~THE CHICAGO TRIBUNE~

Reviewed by Ad. Shap

Carmen doesn’t have to look at Samora’s face to take in her reaction. He ultimately knows it’ll be different from what the blue in his brain says. There were many things wrong with the review, mostly wrong than good and that’s why he needed someone from the outside to see before seeing how the crew digested this.

Samora usually does this humming when she’s reading or thinking about something and that doesn’t seem to change. When she’s finished she puts the phone face down on the outdoor table and folds her fingers together as she sits back.

“Well…That was reminiscent to my short lived cookie career.”

Carmy widens his eyes as he sets them back on his friend.

She shields her face instantly, “whoa turn down the opacity on those things will ya?”

“Your cookie business failed.”

“Um, no. Fuck you for that by the way,” Samora glared, “I view it as that wasn’t the way the chapter was meant to be told. I wasn’t heavily devoted to culinary like you. Nobody is that I know of. It was just a hobby for me but you turned your craft into something much more: breathe, sleep—well—you let it consume you pros and cons. Surely these reviews are deeply important because impressions are…tricky but not everything is the way you see it.”

Carmy scoffs with a rub to his lips in annoyance, “what the fuck do you mean it’s not the way I see it? It’s my business and I’ve been backstabbed by a prick I worked with—

“Carmy��

“I can’t be a screw up! I won’t be. I’ve been at this for so long and I’m more than tired and shitty in the head but not enough to throw it all away no matter what some four eyed fucker with a typewriter for a laptop says!” Carmy is on his feet now pacing, “I picked up what Mikey left behind, I put in the time and the effort, I removed parts of myself to be untouchable—

Samora shakes her head, “you’re not though and some part of you knows that. None of us are unbreakable, babe. You just…start over as many times until it feels right.”

“See I don’t—

Carmy swallows the lump in his throat to speak clearly, “that’s the problem, I don’t think I know what feels right or if I ever did. I just know circumstances.”

Samora inhales as she gets to her feet too, “okay then. Take everything that you bottled up and let it out there.” She points over the edge of the balcony, “you have to try to acknowledge the good and let some things go or you’ll forever feel stuck instead of moving forward…but I’m no therapist just a decorator who’s still annoyed that you didn’t reach out to revamp the bear—but that’s another conversation, just a friend who knows a little something something that’ll help.”

“Uh, something something?” Carmy repeats feeling his heart race as Samora waved her painted hand out for Carmy’s tatted one.

He takes her hand as she leads the way to the balcony but not close enough to trigger any vertigo. Carmy always loved the view at Samora’s compared to his own childhood home, which contrasted with no view at all—his bedroom didn’t have any windows, just a closed in space—and he was stuck hearing the common yelling between Donna and Mikey.

Carmy could see the top of a neighbor’s red brick building (thanks to how many floors the greystone had) across the street, along with another home to the left and a row of other houses to the right. Behind the house across the street sat the changing color of lights and beyond that was the liveliness of Chicago in the distance, the farmer’s market he personally loved and had Tina make the runs to, other great eateries, and music spots also weren’t far from Samora’s.

The woman rests a hand right in the center of his chest and Carmy can feel himself panting, “No one ever has to know if you have it all figured out…nobody truly does. Put down some of those dishes bear, out there. Not to hibernate but to be the best version of yourself for you and not what anyone tells you, you should be.”

His eyes burn and he feels like he might let some tears fall some more tonight and he finds that comfort in Samora. Something good from his past that was still present although his version is always different, he doesn’t mind much if she see’s any water that slips from the corners. He knows she won’t say anything about it, and her hand doesn’t move from his chest as she’s almost coaching him how to deal with just a portion of his bullshit.

He couldn’t figure it out for himself.

Yet he was willing to learn.

The scream curdles from the back of his throat, bursting through his lips into the night. He curls into his stomach some, the weight present, the firmness of Samora’s hand on his chest, and his face is hot in the summer air, turning pink as he fights to breathe through his screams. Samora is right there with him, her screams were much more melodic, like she’s had the practice while Carmy is testing it out.

His screams have been buried just like everything else he’s bottled up for years.

After, his throat is raw and voice hoarse as he sniffs, he abruptly turns to Samora, pulling her into another hug. She isn’t tense against him, small laughter falling through her own lips while Carmy hold’s onto her.

Calming down.

“love you,” he manages to get out while Samora scratches his back.

She knows he means it and it’s probably something he needed to hear back as of lately.

Samora sighs, “love you too, turd.”

Carmy rolls his eyes, pulling back to meet her stare and she winks at him.

“…if I didn’t love the both of you, I might be highly concerned at whatever the hell that was.” Joel announces his arrival after a few moments of silence.

His arms are folded but he’s got that Berzatto sly grin on his lips as Carmy slowly lets his hands fall from Samora’s forearms. The shorter haired man makes his way over to the two, hands going to both of their shoulders as he peers back and forth.

“You made it.”

“I—yeah.” Carmy clears his throat with a shake of his head, “I did.”

“Good,” Joel dips his head but it feels more like a question than a comment.

carmy shrugs.

Samora claps her hands gaining both cousins’ attention, “let’s have some of Mora’s Mosa’s as a celebratory of the night—was the work day alright for you, love?”

Joel awkwardly nods his head back and forth as a way to show that it was so-so.

“Works for me!” Samora yells, “to the kitchen!”

“It’s midnight, honey.” Joel tells Samora who twists her lips to the side, “and I’m sure Carmy doesn’t want any of that green shit you had in the fridge.”

Samora gasps, “damn, who knew my boyfriend would be my biggest critic?”

“Oh c’mon, don’t get sensitive on me now!”

She shrugs his hand from her shoulder while Joel’s low lidded eyes sends a look to Carmy who raises his hands in surrender.

In a hoarse tone he replies, “I actually like the gazpacho so…you’re on your own with that one.”

“Woooow, okay.” Joel breathes out a laugh, then bites down on his bottom lip while Carmy moves to grab his phone and fallen gum pack.

Carmy then turns to watch the two bicker like an old married couple but it doesn’t get loud at all. Joel does talk with his hands to get his point across and Carmy can pinpoint the exact moment Samora cracks, the corner of her nose twitches with amusement before Joel tests the waters, gripping her hips to place a tender kiss on her lips, which Samora seems to kiss back before they break apart. Smiles on both of their faces before they turn back to Carmy who’s attempting to sneak off down the steps.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” Joel asks, “you think you can just go off when you and I didn’t get any one on one time?”

Carmy taps his phone against his hand, “It’s getting late, don’t want to impose any further.”

Joel rolls his eyes, tossing an arm across Carmy’s shoulder, “shut your trap, you’re home, man.”

And with that Carmy is led back into the house.

He doesn’t think he’s slept long, but when he checks the time on his slowly dying phone, it’s already later into the next morning.

8:37am and he has no idea what this day is going to look like but it’s a Sunday…maybe for once he doesn’t have to. One of the rooms he’s tucked in belonged to one of Samora’s adopted brothers, Jacobi, Carmy guesses since there’s still a large crack against the ceiling thanks to a lighting strike that occurred way back when they were all kids.

He sits up for a while, taking in the view one last time before he starts to make his exit. He’s walking down the path towards the gate and stops as he hears the front door open.

“Don’t be a stranger.” Samora tells him as he turns to face her, the woman hugging her robe to herself as she’s sitting on the front step.

Carmy stretches a small smile on his dry lips, “Never that,” he jokes, “thanks for always being here, Sammy. Dunno if I ever told you that enough…probably not since I’m always in my head but uh—give Joel my thanks too for me this time.”

Samora dips her head and says, “Surely.”

Carmy scoffs as he pulls the gate back before putting his palm up in the air, “see you soon.”

“After while, crocodile.” She kisses her fingertips before waving them at him.

Samora watches Carmy go, hoping he starts putting the pieces together instead of forcing it all apart like he’s always been accustomed to.

When Monday comes along, his hands are resting along the trimming of white counter as he’s slightly shifting his head back and forth at all the greenery situated in front of him.

“Morning Chef,” Marcus greets first as he’s followed in by Tina.

Carmy nods his head in greeting.

Tina’s eyes immediately go to all the herbs and vegetables, “Jeffery, what’s all this?”

“Something new, green, for the menu.” Carmy informs, “I realized we haven’t had family dinner in a while and i want all of your inputs for what we’ll have tonight.”

Tina and Marcus share a glance, having a feeling that this had something to do with the new review. They all briefly talked about it in the group chat over the weekend.

“Okay, cool. We’re gonna just go put our stuff down.” Marcus points and Carmy keeps his eyes on the ingredients.

“Take your time, Chefs.” Carmy calls out after some time as the two have already started making their way towards the lockers.

He closes his eyes, trying to slow the rising beat of his heart, deeply inhaling as he ignores the contrast of oxygen between his two nostrils, that was another problem he’s gotten used to, his eyes open just in time to meet the green again as the back doors swing open, revealing the rest of his team gradually.

Carmy had work to do and he’s never been afraid of hard work.

☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘

Continue with my summer anthology writings & prompts here.

[fkmarrycill]

One Shot: Weekend in Bed

1969 words

🔞For smut on smut on smut 😈

This story has been slowly coming out of me since awards season earlier this year, and I'm finally finished. Whew! Cillian is back home after his latest film wraps, and it's time for some much-awaited romance. I guess you can say that lovers reuniting is one of my favorite tropes. 🤓 This was very fun to write, even more fun to imagine… 🫦😌

Thank you for reading! ❤️

Cillian wheels his suitcase into the bedroom and promptly abandons it. Laundry can wait. He's finally home, after filming on his latest movie wrapped, and he just wants to spend the weekend in bed with you.

“I missed you so much,” you say after a warm embrace and a slow, meandering kiss.

“You have no idea how much I've missed you, too. Phone calls and video dates just aren't enough. For example, I'd never be able to do this remotely…” He locks eyes with you, and he's right, your laptop screen can't give you the same feeling as when he holds your face gently in his large hands. His familiar blue stare seems lit from within, telegraphing his excitement to see you. His lips crash into yours in slow motion, and your heart races as the kiss deepens and he teases your mouth open with his tongue. You're content to let him explore, as it has the feeling of being kissed by him for the first time, all over again.

After more kissing, you watch him unzip his black hoodie and peel it off his body while he pries his boots and socks off his feet. He works to free himself from his favorite jeans and black T-shirt next, and you simply untie your ruby-colored silk robe and let it fall to the floor, revealing the delicate matching lingerie that he brought home as a surprise after the previous film wrapped. He couldn't keep his hands off you the first time you wore it, and you know he'll have the same reaction today.

He's down to his boxer briefs, which must be uncomfortable, judging by the bulge straining the gray fabric. He bites his lip and smiles hungrily while his gaze sweeps over you, admiring how well the lingerie accentuates everything he loves about your body. “Fuck me... Whoever bought you that… I owe that dirty bastard a pint.”

You see a wicked glint in his eyes, and you know he's more than ready to worship your body with his. “He's a good man, that one,” you say, matching his energy with your own teasing attitude.

The tension in the room is too heavy to bear any longer. He advances, and your bodies are pressed together, closer than close. Your lips are joined again, and soon your tongues meander in each other's mouths. You need to make love to him, to feel him inside of you, but the kisses are too steamy to stop now. Both of you moan and hum in pleasure with each second that passes by.

You trace slow circles on his naked back. He grasps the one thigh you've raised to begin grinding on him, and his other hand gently fists your hair. Each time you undulate your hips against him you become a little more undone by the sensation of his barely contained hardness.

The fabric of your lingerie is thin enough that the warmth of his hand on your breast sends a current of pleasure down your spine and directly to your eager pussy. By the time you finally remove your bra, you know you're getting wet in anticipation as his actions become more earnest, with rougher rolling and pinching of your nipples. Your reaction elicits a groan from his parted lips, and then he latches his mouth onto you, his warm tongue ratcheting your need higher as your nipples become almost unbearably hard from his ministrations.

The two of you resume kissing while slowly moving toward the bed. Your body vibrates, head to toe, with desire.

You pull his briefs down. “Mmmm, there he is…” You’ve missed the sight of his velvety length and sinful thickness, even though he has starred in many a fantasy of yours while he's been away.

“Here I am,” he murmurs while massaging his length. He gives you the cocky look that he reserves for you, in moments like this.

You turn your back to him, remove your panties, and bend over, giving him one of his favorite views of your body. “And here she is,” you purr devilishly.

“Christ, you never fucking play fair, do ya?”

“Not when I need you this bad, Cill…” You stand up, and you feel him press against you from behind, before he grasps your breasts again and kisses your neck in that soft way of his that's too much but also not quite enough.

Thankfully, he senses your hunger for him in your squirming, and you feel one of his hands slowly migrating down your body, grazing the curves along the way until he gets to the hot, swollen lips of your pussy. He keeps his kisses delicate, while he begins to massage your clit with a firm hand. You start to grind into him once he inserts one finger into your wetness, then two.

“I know you want more,” he growls in your ear, shushing you when you start to arch into him and wail in delighted frustration. “I feel how hungry your body is… I'm fucking going insane myself, so ready to take you, but trust me… Cum for me now, and it'll feel so much better when I'm inside you…” He crooks a finger into your most sensitive area as he continues to whisper in your ear.

“You have no idea how fucking bad I need to be in that sweet pussy… I almost went to the bathroom on the plane, that tiny, fucking bathroom, to put myself out of my misery. But then I remembered how much I adore the sound of your moans… And that sexy face you make when you're on the edge… just like you're doing right now… And I knew I needed to wait. Cum for me now, and I'll fuck you with every bit of need that's been driving me mad for the past few months.”

His confession, given freely with his hot breath tickling the side of your face, is all you body needs. He wraps his arms around you protectively as you convulse in pleasure.

“Yesss, my love. That's it,” he whispers before chuckling. “It only gets better from here.”

You turn your head to kiss him, and he licks his lips in anticipation. You revel in the feel of his full lips and his warm hands on your shoulders.

He squeezes your ass, places his hands on your hips, and walks you to the bed.

You beckon for him to join you on the bed and lie down on your back. He straddles you, on his knees, and smiles down at you.

“The work takes me to so many scenic places, but this is still my favorite view in all the world. God, how I've missed you…”

“Show me how much, baby…” You murmur the challenge while drawing circles and hearts on his thigh with an index finger.

“This fucking much.” He moves his hand up and down his shaft with deliberate strokes and exhales hard. He wastes no time when it comes to kissing you again. His desperate lips bruise yours, and you part your lips, eager for his devilish tongue to roam freely, to claim you.

While he has you on edge, back arched and tense, hands fisting the sheets, you feel one of the sensations you missed the most: his fat tip rubbing against your clit, and then slowly up and down in your wet folds. You moan loud enough to surprise yourself.

“Fuck, Cill…” You don't know if he's going to tease you like this until you cum, or if he'll enter you and finally give both of you what you need, and it almost doesn't matter, as long as he doesn't stop.

“I believe the phrase you're looking for is ‘Fuck me, Cill, please…’” He applies more pressure against your clit, and your body throbs from the inside out.

You waste no time in repeating the words back to him: “Fuck me, Cill, please…” you softly moan the words over and over again, almost breathless, almost out of your mind.

He grins his cockiest grin as he lowers himself to whisper in your ear: “My, my, you really do miss me, eh? Mmm… I suppose I shouldn't make you wait any longer…” He plunges into your wetness easily, and your second climax is out of the way in a few firm strokes, thanks to his maddening foreplay.

“Goddamn, so greedy, lass,” he whispers, still close on top of you. “Don't worry, you'll get as much as you need, and more…”

“Yesss,” you growl softly. The two of you move effortlessly together at a slow tempo, needing to savor the reunion. You clutch his back, digging your nails in a little, and he responds by grinding his pelvis more forcefully into yours. The firm pressure and the whisper of pain from being filled by him make you melt into the mattress while exhaling a loud, contented moan.

“Mmmm… You like that do you, dirty girl?”

“So fucking much… How long are you back for?”

“Three months… Plenty of time to do this over… and over… and over…”

“Ohh… I love the way you think, Cill…”

“Then you'll really love this…” He thrusts faster, causing you to wail in satisfaction.

You match his pace and soon fall into the delicious groove that you always find yourselves: limbs entwined, eyes locked, breaths shared. The two of you connect in countless ways outside of the bedroom, but moments like this feel like the highest level of your union. You're thankful for every conversation, ever virtual dinner, every bit of sexting while he's been away, because it means you can pick back up, in the flesh, almost like the absence never happened.

You relax into the sensations, relax into his arms, no longer tense for release, just content to feel his relentless cock and the passion that fuels his sinful motions.

You sweep his hair out of his eyes, not at all surprised that it's a little damp, soaked in the sweat that has beaded on his face as he gives his all to you. His world-famous eyes are much more inky than usual, his face is flushed, and his lips are parted as he gasps for air. The intensity that he brings to his roles is always doled our double on you during lovemaking, meaning he takes you up peak after peak, never satisfied until you're drunk with pleasure.

And that's the exact state you find yourself in now. You can't believe you've forgotten how euphoric he can make you feel with his body, but he's doing his best right now to make sure you won't forget again.

You can tell by the quickening pace of his ragged breaths that he's close. His eyes are shut tight and his back stiffens. “Fuck, love…. Fuck! I'm so fucking close…

He lowers himself, putting his full weight on you, as his last strokes come desperate and without his earlier expert rhythm. A low groan rolls out of his lips just before his body goes slack from his spent pleasure. The warmth of his seed lingers inside of you, even after he pulls out.

“Hey,” he says after settling down in the bed and turning toward you. He doesn't really want to pull you out of the pleasurable aftershocks you're feeling, but his need to look you in your eyes after being apart for so long is stronger.

“Hey,” you open your eyes and respond dreamily. “Welcome home.” Still on your back, you reach for his hand and close your eyes again once your fingers are entwined.

“Mmm… I'd love to catch up now, but I think you have the right idea…” He squeezes your hand, turns onto his back, and prepares to nap. It's a short respite for both of you, before the many rounds of pleasure to follow.

[doll-elvis]

PRISCILLA (2023)

~ my thoughts as an elvis fan

(credit to @urpinkstargirl for the photo)

WARNING SPOILERS AHEAD:

so I saw it last night and I’ve been stewing on it ever since as I wanted to be 100% sure in myself before saying this publicly

**brace yourselves**

After just one viewing… I feel confident in saying that I preferred this film over “Elvis” 2022 🤧. It was just so immersive and so deeply intimate that I walked away from the theater feeling like I had just lived a life with Elvis, and experienced all the ugly and wonderful things that came with it

I am seeing it again tonight and possibly tomorrow just to recapture that feeling (which made me cry… three times…)

And although I’m not the biggest fan of Sofia Coppola, there is simply no denying that she has perfected showing “girlhood” in film, and making the most unique experiences, like being Marie Antoinette and being Priscilla Presley, somehow universal to everybody. I haven’t felt being “14” since I was 14, which was a whole 5 years ago, but WHEW… I most definitely felt 14 again when watching Priscilla navigate life in Germany

Also- we all saw how Austin Butler was completely cheated out of an Oscar and so I’m begging that we do not do that again. Give the Oscar to Cailee Spaeny (who played Priscilla) right now 😤 There are no words besides “immaculate” to describe her performance. Her future is so bright as an actress, I just cannot wait to follow her career + she just seems like the sweetest person ever??

And I know it might seem insane to say that I preferred “Priscilla” over “Elvis” and some of y’all might crucify me for that take but my preference solely comes down to the fact that I appreciate Priscilla’s perspective much more so than the Colonel’s, who to me, has always been the least interesting aspect of Elvis’ story

My biggest gripe with having the Colonel narrative/tell Elvis’ life in the 2022 film is the fact that it made the film feel rather impersonal to Elvis as I don’t think the script or the storytelling ever fully allowed for Austin Butler to explore what he was like beyond the stage

And personally speaking, I have a much deeper love for Elvis the person as opposed to Elvis the performer, and I think that “Priscilla” showed the human side of him far more than “Elvis” ever did (like y’all we actually get to hear and see him reading his philosophy books in this!!!)

But before I get into what was actually depicted in film, and all my praises, I thought I would briefly state what I thought could have been done better. Don’t get me wrong, this movie was beyond amazing, however, it was definitely not without its’ faults:

1. If you have seen a lot of reviewers talk negatively about the pacing in this film- just know that they are unfortunately, completely right in that assessment. The whole timeline of Germany felt literally five minutes long, and the 70s also, felt maybe 10 minutes long which just made both the beginning and end feel rather rushed. Also there were at least 5 scenes that just faded to black before going onto the next one, and some very abrupt cuts in scenes which felt a bit awkward

2. Because this is a biopic, and because it’s based on a real life, there is no climax like you would be accustomed to normally in a film and so I think that the average viewer, like someone who may not really care about Priscilla or Elvis, will probably walk away from the film feeling unsatisfied- possibly bored. I saw it with my mom and my sister, and my mom was asleep in like 45 minutes 😭. The movie definitely got repetitive at some points but I acknowledge the fact that life is repetitive, especially for Priscilla in the 60s while Elvis was off making movies

3. While Priscilla (played by Cailee Spaeny) aged realistically and seamlessly, Elvis (played by Jacob Elordi) was essentially the same person (physically) for 95% percent of the film. For some reason, his hair was already dyed black in the Germany scenes, although we know it was brown at that time, and so there was no real transformation for him until Lisa Marie is born. The height of the actor was definitely jarring at first but eventually I got used to it…however…I damn near busted out laughing when they showed him in the Comeback special outfit 💀 His performance was nothing but incredible (ESPECIALLY THE VOICE) and so I learned to get over the physical disparities rather quickly

4. The ending of this film, particularly the song, was overwhelmingly sad and impactful but I was really disappointed that we didn’t get to see Priscilla’s and Elvis’ relationship after the divorce. This film ends with Priscilla leaving Graceland, starting her “new life”, which didn’t make much sense to me considering this movie was adapted from her book, which very much explores that part of her life, especially with Elvis

I would have really love to seen moments like this from Priscilla’s perspective ⬇️

excerpt from “Priscilla, Elvis and me” (avoid this book)

5. NO CIRCLE G RANCH!!! It is borderline criminal to make a film about Priscilla and Elvis and to not include their time spent at Circle G ranch ** which Priscilla has always said were their happiest times together **. I assume that this was likely an issue because of the budget and the fact that they only had 30 days to film but god… I would have really appreciated some of the domestic bliss that Priscilla and Elvis shared while living in the trailer on the ranch. There were many happy moments/sequences (y’all are going to die when you see the rollerblading/go cart scenes) in this movie, but I think their gradual separation/withdrawal from one another (post marriage) would have hit harder if we saw how happy they were together during their ranch phase

6. For those who have read “Elvis and Me”, we all know about the famed LSD scene that takes place and unfortunately, Coppola heavily missed the mark on it. We don’t see Lamar Fike making out with a tree, we don’t see Jerry Schilling in a closet- instead we see Priscilla and Elvis just kind of rolling around, laughing amongst themselves while the room around them turns different colors

There were definitely many key moments/stories like that missing from the film, and I honestly wish that the movie was an hour longer so that we could have seen the book more fully fleshed out

Lastly, here’s just a general synopsis of the scenes in Germany… I was going to do the whole movie but I don’t have the stamina to type it all out 😭. If y’all want to know something specific please feel free to comment below and I will let you know <3!!

After the beginning credits are shown, the film starts with Currie Grant (who was renamed as Terry West) approaching Priscilla in a diner, inviting her to a party at Elvis’ house. After talking with her parents and assuring them that Priscilla will be looked after by him and his wife, it cuts to her in the back of a car, on her way to meet Elvis. The scene is exactly like how it is in the book, Elvis asks her how old she is, he remarks that she is “just a baby” and so on- Elvis then plays “a Whole lotta shakin” at the piano and that is one of three musical performances we see from him

Priscilla is then re-invited by Currie aka Terry via Elvis to comeback to the house again. Elvis invites Priscilla up to his room, she looks around and sees letters from Anita Wood, and a poster of Bridgette Bardot just like in the book. After Elvis talks about Gladys and how he is still reeling over her death, and how lonely he has felt since then, they share their first kiss to the song “Crimson and Clovers”

There are some scenes of Priscilla at school and some scenes of her sort of convincing her parents to let her continue to see Elvis. And they do agree, but just like in the book, they want to meet him first. Elvis is questioned by Priscilla’s father on why he wants to be with her to which Elvis replies that she is very mature for her age and that he likes talking to her since she is from home aka the United States. He then assures Priscilla’s father that she will be taken care of. After that we see them going to the movies where Elvis expresses how much he wants to be a serious actor, and then they share another kiss on the car ride home. It then cuts to Christmas time where we see Elvis giving Priscilla a watch and then BOOM- Elvis and her are on the way to the airport where they say their final goodbyes as he leaves for the United States

The film really does follow closely to the book (at least from 59’ when they meet to 69’- again the 70s were really rushed) and so I really recommended to read that prior to watching the movie

As for the more sensitive scenes-

There is no explicit sex, no graphic nudity, and no scene where Elvis forces himself upon Priscilla. He does say “this is how a real man makes love to his woman” but all he does is kiss her before she pushes him off. There is a rather long “polaroid-taking” sequence where it shows all the outfits that Elvis would Priscilla dress up in but other than that, we only see Elvis and Priscilla make out

And it did show when Elvis accidentally hit Priscilla in the eye during the pillow fight scene in her book, along with the scene of him throwing a chair in her general direction after she expressed she didn’t like a demo of one his songs, and the scene where he grabs all her clothes from the closet and tells her that she should go visit her parents. I don’t think that the scenes made Elvis look abusive: Coppola was surprisingly nuanced in showing that he had reasons for his sometimes bad temperament i.e the pills he took along with the fact that he was frustrated with his film career

It also shows Elvis’ infidelities but really only through movie magazines that Priscilla sees. So it’s never explicitly shown, I would say it’s more hinted at than anything

And there are two scenes of Priscilla with Mike Stone but again, nothing that is explicitly shown, it’s just hinted at

Finally, to finish this up, this is what I wrote on my Instagram account which I very much stand by ⬇️

Just please give this movie a chance y’all, it was so beautiful and so sensitively done… I cannot wait to watch it again <3

[lanabuckybarnes]

Brain rot, Brain rot.

18+ Minors DNI

(I do not own any photos used, credits go to the original owners)

A little piece I’ve created about my favourite roles that Seb has played (the ones I’ve watched so far) because Mr Lee Bodecker and Nick have got me in a literal chokehold.

( I know about their red flags but girlies im colourblind).

Just wanted to try something a little different, Warnings are under the cut.

Pairing: Lee Bodecker x reader, Nick Fowler x reader, Steve Kemp x reader, Bucky x reader

Warnings: Spoilers for the movies, mention of Cheating (It’s Lee being unfaithful per usual), Dark Lee, Manipulation, Throat fucking, Size kink, Breeding Kink, Mentions of Pregnancy, Daddy Kink, Overstimulation, Teasing, Cock Warming, Pussy Eating, Mentions of Cannibalism, Biting, Dry Humping, Dark Steve I suppose (Steve being Steve), Voyeurism. DO NOT READ IF THESE TRIGGER YOU, if I’ve missed any warnings please let me know.

Whew Lordy.

Lee bodecker is a filthy man, with 100+ glaring red flags and you still peruse him?! It’s a wonder the townsfolk don’t have you sent to the looney bin. He absolutely loves it when his little mistress (you) wraps herself in his leather coat, just the thought of you wearing it gets him all possessive.

He loves a lady he can manipulate— bend and train to his will. A girl that when he comes stomping into her little cottage she’s there with a steak on the table and her mouth open for him. Not only does a sweet little lady appeal to him because of their naivety but because of just how shy and innocent they really are.

If you in a pretty white frock while he fucks your face is the last thing he sees as he closes his eyes on this world, he’ll die a happy man.

Also size kink demon, loves when his thick hand engulfs your thigh or when you have to go onto your toes to kiss him, loves it when one of his big ole palms can hold your wrists above your head while he pounds away at you. It’s like a ritual now for him to sit his fat length over your pussy just before he plunges in, he loves imagining just how deep he’ll be hitting you when he fucks you.

Talks about getting you pregnant A LOT. You never knew it was a kink till you were talking with some of the older ladies about your ‘mystery man’. When you brought up the fact that he’s constantly moaning about swelling that little belly up, giving you his son, they all confirmed what he was experiencing was a thing most ‘manly men’ felt. They assured you it would be a great honour to have a man’s son but you played with the hem of your dress in guilt and shame, he wasn’t your husband and he thought of you as nothing more than his little side piece to make up for his boring wife.

Please ride this man while wearing his hat, he will not survive.

Nick Fowler, I don’t really know much about him— I mostly watched clips of him on YouTube but I just imagine him with a phat daddy kink. When you whimper daddy for the first time he just about spurts right then and there.

Loves teasing the shit outta you, how many times have you came on his fingers and tongue? You don’t know but you feel fucked out— you don’t think you could handle another, Nick just scoffs.

“Come on baby another for me” he encourages, his sopping fingers circling your sensitive bud and all you can do is lie back and take it.

When he’s had a real bad day all he wants is for you to get those fucking clothes off and sit on his cock, you don’t have to move he just wants to feel your warmth and how you squeeze against him.

Now if you think you were insane to go after someone like Lee you must actually be crazy to let Steve near you, even after finding out his little ploy, how you were nothing more than meat to him— you still let him fuck you. This man knows how to eat, he’s down there for every course, slowly spreading your folds with his fingers and liking a strip up from your hole to your clit before diving straight in. He’ll have you loosing your voice over the way you scream when he drags orgasm after orgasm out of your pretty body

Constantly talks about eating your flesh while he kisses you, occasionally biting down nice and hard leaving teeth marks all over the meaty parts of your body. Even before you found out he was a cannibal he’d be biting and licking on you, he called it sampling the meat before he bought in.

Dress up nice and pretty for him, he loves it. He loves nice light colours and lacy material, the way it makes your skin look all flawless and doesn’t clash with the dark marks he’s given you has him hard in his pants quicker than you could imagine. Another man who loves being fully clothed while you’re practically naked. Has cum in his pants an embarrassing amount of times when you’ve straddled him, grinding your lace covered kitty against his bulge.

Although I write about him all the time I can never fully flesh out one of the fantasy’s I think of him in. This man, although awfully shy about his sex life with others, will and has absolutely ruined you in public places. A restaurant, he’s played with your little clit under the table and fucked you in one of the bathroom stalls, in a car while you, Sam and Steve were going on a road trip. Even once in Tony’s house during a party— Tony had almost caught you two bumping and grinding in his laundry room, the thought of how close you two were to being caught had Bucky biting on your shoulder and coming all up your back quicker than he’d ever done before.

—

I have no idea where all these come from but I’m loving it.

[creamupuffuu]

Ok-

So-

hypothetically…

If I were to make a Noah Diaz x Black!Chubby reader would y’all read it…? 👀👀

Scene Idea:

The cardboard portfolio you carried tipped in your hands as you kept the end pressed against the plush of your tummy to keep your drawing papers from falling out. Thick fingers curling against the back of the board you huffed silently as your feet fell into a steady rhythm against the sidewalk. Your drawing studio classes ended unexpectedly early today and I suppose you’d be happy for that, except you had a tight schedule that involved one car you had to share with your mother. And since she’s still working, clocking out as soon as your classes would normally end, she’d pick you up and you’d head home but now you had no choice but to walk. The black strap of your tote bag digging into the creasing of your shoulder. Filled with drawing pads and other art material you wouldn’t be surprised if you opened your bag right now and a pile of bricks would be waiting for you.

Walkman headphones snug on your ears Sade sang beautifully making your walk a little less crummy as the lyrics of ‘The Sweetest Taboo’ put your mind at ease. The sky was a dewy blue, spirits of purple danced around pink clouds as the day welcomed night. Your gaze shifted to the stars above, missing the colorful Porsche rolling up beside you. “Now how come whenever I see you, you got a frown on?” The sudden voice makes you jump, clumsily flicking your headphones off you turn with a scowl, ready to throw a line of insults before you bit your tongue.

“Noah?” You raised a brow, a grin tugging into the corners of your round cheeks as he eased on the breaks. “What are you doing here hm? And where’ve you been man? You go M-I-A-“

He scoffs at the joke.

“Don’t call, don’t page and then you roll up on me with a Porsche?” As of que said, Porsche rumbles lightly in a manner similar to a chuckle. You squint and Noah swallows and with a forced chuckle he drags his tongue across his bottom lip, pinching the peach fuzz of his beard as his other hand toys with the steering wheel of the car. “Yea, I uh” his eyes dart to yours before he looks down. “I was..uh in Peru for a business trip”

“You? Go on a business trip? Yo boss trust you enough for that?”

“Aye now,” He chuckles lightly. “Do you uh, want a ride?” The question made you remember where you were, standing on the side of the road, portfolio gripped in your doughy arms. You almost question why he decided to change the subject but the signaling of his thumb pointing over his shoulder and down the street catches your attention. “I was driving down here when I seen you, was wonderin’ if you needed a ride or sum..” He shrugs his shoulders and you can tell he’s trying to be as nonchalant as possible, his eyes easing back onto the road. Chewing on the inside of your cheek you look ahead of the road. “I don’t know..” He almost dreads the next words from your mouth. “I don’t wanna owe-“ So he cuts you off. “You won’t owe me anything (Nickname), think of it as a ‘thank you’ for the last time you babysat Kris.”

He hears you scoff, his shoulders involuntarily sagging in relief when you shuffle over to open the back door. Relieved you were taking his offer. You spoke, voice soft, and dripping in affection that has the older Diaz melting when you mention the latter. “You know I don’t mind babysittin’ Kris, love the lil stinker,” You grin, plopping into the passenger side after securing your bag and portfolio in the back seat.

———

This is all I’ve got, it’s something that’s been marinating in the back of my brain since the movie came out—lowkey thinkin’ about makin the reader be related to Reek but ion know yet-but on another note can we like stop pretending like this man is not fine??? 😭 don’t get me wrong Mirage is bby girl but I love me some Noah whew 😩

[darthmaclunkey]

seeing last jedi again was so good. i will be fighting in the last jedi trenches until i die. if last jedi has no fans left on earth then i am dead etc etc. some very rambling and incoherent thoughts under the cut:

i love luke so much in tlj. luke skywaker is my all-time favourite character from anything, because he really embodies one of the core messages from star wars: being good is a choice, and it's a choice you have to keep making. right from the start of new hope, we see how luke is just constantly thrust into situations where, time and time again, he's given the choice of the easy way out, or tempted by the dark side. but luke always chooses to do the right thing, even when it's hard. in rotj we do get a glimpse of him as this aloof, emotionless jedi, but then it all unravels in the finale when he is forced to confront vader. i know a lot of the vitriol around last jedi is from people who think it ruined luke's character, but to me, his arc makes perfect sense. sequels luke is a man who has spent his whole life making sacrifices and working hard to do good, until it's all torn away from him by the dark side - a dark side plot specifically designed to undermine luke and the light, mind you - yet he still blames himself, because a fleeting temptation from the dark to take the easy route out and save the galaxy from what he saw in ben almost got him, but it didn't. and he paid for that temptation dearly. i would have hated to see a sequels-era luke who was just some epic version of the distant, quasi-mystical jedi knight we see in rotj (as i've seen some people saying that's how he should have been). what kind of character arc is that? he gets to the end of the OT and then never changes? i'm drawn to luke because of his humanity, the fact that you still see the tatooine farmboy in him years later. his sacrifice at the end of last jedi is so beautiful and poignant to me; a lesser script (cough tros cough) would have had him jump in an x-wing and show up to plow through the first order with his lightsaber. i love what we get instead: his moment with leia, her touching his hands and realising he's a projection - his knowing wink to threepio - the image of him emerging from the dust and smoke, unscathed, and how it clearly puts the absolute fear into kylo ren - the way he doesn't even attack, just dodges and blocks - then, finally, the shot of him on ahch-to, watching the sunset, and, once he's gone, the image of his cloak blowing away in the wind, symbolic of his spirit joining the cosmic force. that's my jedi master luke. funny, powerful, human, flawed, but still, after all this time, making the choice to do good and fight for others, even if it's the hardest thing he'll ever do. whew. luke skywalker i love you.

i love how last jedi looks. with the exception of maybe empire, i think it's the best-looking of all the films. it's stuffed with references to absolutely classic cinema, like the shot in canto bight that's an homage to the café dolly shot in wings, or the classic hitchcockian dolly zoom as finn and rose look over the cliff, and the opening sequence with the bombing run is just a straight homage to old war movies, which is just what the OT did with the space battles being shot-for-shot remakes of ww2 dogfight footage. original-flavour star wars was a love letter to to so many other films and tv shows, so this feels so natural. at the same time, there's a lot of sequences that feel really innovative for star wars, like the montage that accompanies rey's connection to the force on ahch-to, or the film's extensive use of close-up shots and slow-mo. the lighting is gorgeous. finn's fight with phasma looks astonishing on the big screen - the colour grading and visual effects really go off in that scene.

i love all the force skype sessions with kylo and rey, but especially the scene where she's out in the rain and, when they disconnect, you see kylo running his hand over his face then shaking the rainwater from his glove. something I hadn't appreciated before is how well the film sells you on the idea that they are both present in the same space, despite seeing them both shot against different backgrounds. the intimacy of the rain-on-glove thing gets me every time.

i love everybody's arcs. every single member of the main trio has a full arc in the film. rose tico is such a lovely addition to the main cast, i hate how she got totally shafted in rise of skywalker.

on a completely superficial note: the main cast are all at their hottest in last jedi. especially poe dameron. especially poe dameron.

the throne room fight scene is one of my favourite movie scenes ever (and in star wars, it's only beaten out by the binary sunset scene from new hope). i WISH i could relive the first time i saw it at the midnight screening i went to in 2017. i may have been sitting politely, but i was hooting and hollering internally.

rian johnson, they could never make me hate you.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s3 episode 9 thoughts

i have so much to say. i just copied and pasted my notes, and my thoughts were COMICALLY long. but it was SUCH a good episode so i have a LOT to point out. even more than usual, somehow.

(screams to let it all out and then tries to take a deep breath and gather myself)

okay. OKAY FUCK. okay. whew. we start from the top. the very very top, in which i click on the episode. and so begins an emotional rollercoaster.

this episode description mentions a train. as does the one after that!!! am i in for a two parter?!?! well, if so, at least i am prepared with this information, so i don’t get a massive shock like with duane barry! (author’s note: i was right!)

a train. huh. would love to ride one of those someday. unfortunately i’m american. we only really have cargo ones hanging about. but their noise is deeply familiar and comforting to me regardless.

(little did i know that this was the very kind of train to be featured in this episode!!)

camera opens on tennessee! children are riding bikes to watch a train. ah, good to know the desire to stop doing other things and instead watch a train go by is universal.

now it’s night at the train. is some graffiti action going to take place? the music is getting weirder as we look at the top of this train, and it appears we are in for no ordinary graffiti moment as some cars pull up. 

and these people are from japan! in tenneseee! boarding the train…? which is full of science stuff!! this is odd on many levels.

(japan to tennessee… whew, that’s a long flight. give these men some caffeine now!)

caffeine seems to be ignored because they are in surgery looking gear cutting something open. and green stuff flows into a jar? hey. not liking that. 

they are cutting into what looks like, in my opinion, some guts.

until people run in and start shooting!!! really truly shooting and killing everyone!!! what!!! what the hell!! who are these guys!! are they with cig man??? holy fuck, if that WAS an alien autopsy, way to ruin the scientific method with bullets in the lab!!

and they are zipping an alien into a bag!! so it was!!! the blatant disregard for learning here!! it’s appallingly american! who are these people?!!

bum bum bum bum… woo woo woo woo wooo wooo… woo woo woo woo WOOO woo… intro time.

mulder has his feet up on the desk. fiddling with… something. scully opens the door and he tells her to come on in, with the face of a man who is scheming. he has it all dark like a movie theatre!!!

LMAOOOO he ordered a video from a magazine of an alien autopsy. and that must be why he looks like a kid in a candy store. $29.95, plus shipping!!! THAT IS A LOT!!

she’s like, you literally cannot see what they are operating on. and she says it’s hokier than the one they aired on fox news. which means i have to google a few things to learn if that actually happened. actually i don’t want to even know.

he mentions the green goo and he says “it’s widely held that aliens don’t have blood, scully” <- girl how would she know that. also you literally almost died FROM alien blood. so explain.

they’re arguing the merits of what makes an authentic alien autopsy tape, and then he points out how the people burst in with guns right before the film cuts off. well, that could make it look more authentic, or less!

some guy in allentown got the tapes so they’re visiting LMAOOO road trip road trip!!!! to a very old looking house. 

the studio is called “rat tail productions” okayyy. i kinda like that. but it’s all boarded up so they have to try and break in.

and they find a dead body!! that is still warm!!! what is going on!!!

someone else enters!! and mulder chases after them and jumps the fence yelling that he is a federal agent. zooooom that is a speedy man. 

and just when it seems mulder has the guy, he starts kicking and punching and BOOM! down goes mulder. until he shoots something nearby to show he isn’t playing. 

mulder is wet from falling into a bunch of garbage… king. and the language barrier is being a barrier!

(sidenote i’m surprised they didn’t make mulder learn another language in school or for the fbi?? like actually really shocked. you’d think he’d have at least one other one, or a few basic phrases, under his belt. idk, where i’m from higher education in humanities related fields requires language learning, but he somehow escaped)

mulder is pretty despite being covered in garbage and bringing a man to a police station

scully says they can’t find an interpreter! this is not really shocking because they are in pennsylvania. 

“well look at this… a beacon in the night” says mulder whilst smiling, and who is it he glances upon but SKINNER?!?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?? are they in trouble?? does… skinner know japanese??

(mulder asks and he does not 💔)

skinner says they have to let the guy (kazuo sakurai) go because he is a high ranking diplomat. so if you’re a diplomat can you just… walk away from a murder scene and that isn’t a problem?? at all? i did not think it worked like this.

skinner asks what they’re doing and mulder says he’s tracking down a “video piracy thing” LMAOOOO least convincing lie ever. 

skinner tells him to go back home, and then very purposefully brushes into his shoulder before walking away. yowch! that has got to sting. mulder looks like he just got caught and is trying to charm his way out of it

scully rightfully points out that this makes no sense, and asks if he wants to drop it, but mulder says he paid his $29.95 and he is gonna get his answers!!!

LMAOOO he “forgot” to turn in the suitcase kazuo was carrying. it has a list of members of a ufo society with a local woman’s name circled!! was she gonna be their next target…?

he tells her to get a motel and he is going to go back to D.C. and be “a good boy” for skinner… LMAOOO, and he’ll show the files to his besties 

back in D.C., and woah, mulder looks like a real slut with his hands on his waist and his jeans and tucked in turtleneck sweater. i am NOT complaining. just merely observing. it’s kinda giving that one photo of the rock. i see where he took his style inspo from.

so the lone gunmen say that the japanese were looking for a sunken ship from wartime, and it looks like they found it, but they brought it to virginia? very weird. maybe they did not find a sub… but something else.

the diplomats are heading home. or not. because someone is beating up kazuo! huh?! WHAT!

scully on da scene in allentown pa. serving. knocking at a door of the person whose name was circled in the files.

but the person goes to answer the door and she says they know her. she’s like umm not sure about that?? until another person comes to the door and says “oh my god… she’s one” WHAT??

(is this like a secret society of people who were abducted or like. are they trying to scam her or something?)

she looks super freaked out. she’s trying to explain that she’s here for murder investigation reasons, but the lady in pink (penny) is calling and saying everyone needs to come over right away. this will surely make scully even more stressed.

they ask her if there was some unexplained event that happened last year. and also to please sit down. so you KNOW things are about to get wild.

mulder is asking about the ship that allegedly was returning through panama. and the boat was stopped! but then kept going? the guy he’s asking to look into this does not seem to be pleased to discuss this subject. 

scully is freaking tf out but trying to gently explain that she does NOT KNOW THESE PEOPLE. but they’re talking about being taken to “the bright white place” and that she was only taken once, but these other women were taken many times. WHAT IS GOING ON.

they ask her about regression hypnosis and she’s like i do not want to talk about this. (and yes i even TRIED IT) and she looks around at all the other women and it is creepy. SAVE HER… save them all.

mulder is running away from the guy he asked for the files from. he’s always going somewhere. looking at a boat. looking at another boat. is he gonna sneak on the boat? YES HE IS. HE IS JUMPING ON IT. elbowing a window open to get in. this is a wild man!! he will break into your boat!!!

he’s going through drawers looking for stuff and i’m thinking, oh man i really hope the boat doesn’t start heading out to sea… he has nothing to survive on. and we’ve seen them kill people, so don’t say “accidental” boat abandonment with a guy on it is out of the realm of possibility. but it IS the boat he was hoping for. and now he’s sneaking about its underbelly. 

NO! he has been caught. the boat is being swarmed by men with guns. he seems too tall to hide…. but he did!! AND HE JUMPS INTO THE HARBOR LMAOOOOO, NOOO, THE POLLUTANTS!!

back to scully. i was so caught up in the boat espionage i had forgotten about scully’s dilemma. and they say that she won’t remember what happened to her for a while. cut scene to her being blowed up again like we saw in s2.

and she is really freaking out now, because they point out that they all have the mark and she just wants to learn about this murder, damn it, not unpack trauma!!

but betsy, who she came to see, is dealing with very severe cancer. and they say that what she is dealing with is going to happen to all of them. WHAT??? “we’re all dying because of what they do to us” OH MY GOD??? she has tears in her eyes. WHAT!!! what. 

back to the boat. do i look like i give a damn about the boat!! no!! but mulder is crawling- at night- from the harbor. so did he stay there all evening or….

so he’s once again on the run. and soaking wet. please take a shower, my friend. you know not what they do in that harbor. 

he sees people pulling in to the warehouse nearby!! with guns!!! and we see him sneak by!!! no, mulder, consider going home and not getting caught!! but what if he finds something that can help scully…? and oh my gosh, he doesn’t even KNOW she’s slowly dying yet. oh my gosh wait i need to sit down (said by the girl who is literally sitting)

the orchestral score is popping off, too. he peeks in a window and sees a giant… thing? being gassed. with cameras out and about. like a blimp looking thing. 

somehow he gets a change of clothes. and he goes home but his apartment door was unlocked! so he has his gun. is it skinner? 

IT IS!! whew! that was best case scenario, so it was just wishful thinking on my part, but maybe i really am deeply attuned to this show. skinner is sitting there in the dark. we see some photos on mulder’s desk but they kinda just look like random places. one is some sort of field? and the other is a house, i think? not recognizable to me. but back to the plot at hand.

skinner tells him to put the gun down. sort of like you tell a dog to drop it. he obeys. aww, he is a good boy for skinner, like he mentioned earlier.

so skinner has some tea; kazuo’s body was found in a canal!!!! he didn’t make his flight!! and they government thinks he was killed over his BRIEFCASE!!! 

mulder plays dumb. then he admits that scully has the briefcase in her car. he seems like he’s trying to play it cool but skinner is NOT having it. “this is bigger than me, you, or the FBI, agent mulder” okayyyy king of being vague. and he says he is not getting involved!!! woah!!!

so mulder goes to… a senator!!! yes, the senator we saw very briefly a few times before, whose name is richard matheson? i didn’t really understand that in the past, but maybe it was building up to this. richard says to return the photos, but mulder says he’ll be entangled in a murder investigation, which he cannot afford because he is so close to the truth!

this senator claims to be telling mulder the truth about what is going on. and he explains what happens in tennessee, how the japanese doctors were murdered doing a secret thing. 

“what am i onto here?” , he asks. “monsters begetting monsters”, says the senator. ohhhhhhh that does not sound good.

(i hope he exposes the alien people and the torture and they blow up all the people that hurt scully and the rest of those women and then hold hands)

he’s back in his office with his glasses on. and i would be glad for a glasses mulder win under normal circumstances, but my heart is sick over scully. i take what i can get when i can get it, though, because he is a beautiful man in glasses. 

SCULLY’S BACK!! and she is still freaking out. she relays the news that she might be dying, and he looks up at her so innocently and says “but you’re fine, aren’t you scully?” OHHHH BABY. BABY. GROWN MAN. BUT BABY. OHHHHHHH MY HEART. MY HEART ITS MELTING. MY EYES ARE TEARING. “but you’re fine, aren’t you?” oh lord… he cannot lose anymore people. 

she is terrified- “am i? i don’t know, mulder” NOOOOOOOO MY BABY. STOP. DO NOT DO THIS TO HER.

he pulls up a photo and she says she knows someone in it, but that guy has been dead since 1965. mulder seems to find this difficult to believe, but last episode he was suggesting that someone was bleeding another person’s blood, so i feel he of all people should be open to this idea.

(oh…. they’re using unit 731 for the storyline here. and they have done that in the past as well but. wow. awful lot of baggage to dredge up there. very very painful and unhealed wounds)

((and i guess before they have done similar things involving nazis, right, remember victor? and his experiments? even if it was done before though, it doesn’t make it any less chilling to me. i’m not sure how i feel about using real horrific war crimes as plot points in an alien show))

but my reckoning with history aside, mulder says that four of the men in that photo were in the alien autopsy video. and they were murdered.

“murdered for what? or murdered by whom?” oh scully, you deserve none of the suffering that the world has given to you. NONE OF IT. if i were mulder, i would hug her and never let go ever. ever ever. 

he thinks they’re still trying to make an alien-human hybrid, but she still isn’t buying it, even after everything; she needs proof. she says believing is the easy part, but he disagrees. “you think that believing is easy?” he asks, and it hangs in the air.

oh, i want to linger in that space forever. the tension it creates, the things it reveals about him. how belief is centered on hope, how he has to fight for it, that it doesn’t come as natural as breathing as he might have you thinking. it’s hope for a better future, it’s hope for righting old wrongs, it’s looking where no one else will go find the answers. it’s about getting family back. it’s about fighting and sneaking and learning and even killing to get what you need to know. but it’s never easy. 

FUCK. I’M LIKE GONNA JUMP UP AND DOWN. THIS IS WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!!!!!! THIS IS THE STUFF!!!

they hold eye contact for a bit, until she sighs and breaks it (fuck me, i’m emotional) and he points out that they DO have proof, as he reaches for her arms- the spy photos were tracking a ship that pulled a UFO out of the ocean, and the UFO is in that warehouse that he saw earlier!! that thing i said looked like a blimp!!!

he says the US has a secret railroad. i yearn so desperately for accessible transportation. if the government said tomorrow, yeah, we have a secret rail system, i’m not sure how i’d react. perhaps relief?

there is very very very charged eye contact. 

okay, bringing the thingy from her neck to a guy who can understand it. it’s a “micro processor”, and there are a few companies that make them. and they are being used for many things. so was it made by ordinary people, and not alien tech…? who is doing the torturing and testing…? and to what end???

it’s all women in that room… is it for alien breeding purposes… oh, i shutter to imagine

back in west virginia!!! mulder has a leather jacket on and a dream as he climbs up into some sort of railroad building’s roof. his hair blows dreamily in the wind as he busts out some binoculars. if he were to be caught, he could probably convincingly claim he was a birder. i understand they go through a lot to find their birds. 

people are showing up. they’re speaking japanese and getting what looks like a LIVING ALIEN onto the train? mulder is on the move. the train is taking off. is he gonna play subway surfers irl and try to jump on that thing? yes, he is SPRINTING. but he realizes he cannot outrun a train. 

back to scully cam. she is watching footage. a japanese surgeon is taking off his surgical gear and she recognizes him!! OH MY GOSH SHE RECOGNIZES HIM FROM HER TESTING! NOOOOO!!! NOOOO!

she answers the phone like she wasn’t unpacking horrific information and mulder reports from west virginia. and she points out that she recognizes the doctor… but not from the video tape. NOOOOOOO. realization crosses his face, and i’m sure only adds fuel to his fire to get on that damn train.

so mulder is trying to catch up with the train. a handsome japanese man is being followed by the dude that killed the other guy earlier. AND NO!!!! the killer just killed the handsome japanese man and locked him in the bathroom. then adjusted his hair???

mulder JUST misses the train. perhaps this is for the best?

scully going home. WHY IS X THERE?!?!?!? he’s telling her to tell mulder to get OFF OF THE TRAIN. she rightly is suspicious but he is NOT playing around.

mulder is about to leap on top of the train when he gets the call from scully. and he asks who told her what he was doing and to stop it, and like me, she is also probably realizing she doesn’t know this dude X’s name. 

and he jumps on the train!!! but loses his phone in the process!!!!!

TO BE CONTINUED!!!!

WHAT THE HELL.

okay, my yelling aside, THIS is when the show is at its best, imo. THIS is the blueprint for me. character driven. heart of the plot. reveal after reveal but vague enough to keep me wanting more. the government is evil and every conspiracy has more conspiracies. getting to know what is ACTUALLY going on in snippets. skinner is there. this episode truly had it all.

EXCEPT an ending, of course, because now i have to WAIT to watch the next part. SO TRULY DIABOLICAL!

no no, i jest, i can take a cliffhanger most of them time. i just better not have ANY distractions tomorrow. 

whew, so much to unpack. i think there are two things that are sticking out the most to me here: scully’s terror and mulder’s belief.

her not knowing what to believe is true about herself and the world she has studied so carefully, being surrounded by strangers who claim to know her, that know things ABOUT her, and who tell her she is going to die slowly and horribly. how she tears up when she learns this. how she tried so hard to get control over the situation by pivoting to the murder case, only to be denied. how the reigns of control slip from her hands, and it is left to fate. and how horrific that is. how she cannot handle processing what was done to her, but is forced to, by seeing this guy who did unspeakable things to her again. how she says she needs proof. as if she’s biding her time, waiting for a full answer so that the reality of what she has gone through can sink in. if there’s never proof, maybe she’ll never have to process it.

and mulder, who thinks that belief is hard. who has sacrificed so much of his life to belief, put himself in danger countless times to find the truth that everyone around him either denies or ridicules him for. how he has little more than his work, because he needs there to be hope. if belief is terror for scully, to him it is a source of possibility. how they’re both wrapped into the same tragedy with entirely separate takes on what it means and how to proceed but whatever is bringing them together keeps weaving them tighter and tighter. 

AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHH. i could scream.

i actually typed all of that, took way more notes than usual, and STILL feel like i’m barely scratching the surface. i feel like i need to give a lecture on this subject matter to even sort of drain the giant well within me of feelings regarding them. his face, how he insists she has to be okay, right? right? and her terror when she admits she doesn’t know.

now. i hate to say it, but i have seen vague spoilers about what happens in the next season, involving illness. and i have a feeling i’m gonna cry like a baby because i’m so messed up just by this. maybe it’s a sensitive topic for me, or maybe i’m just too deeply attached to these nerds and need them to be happy. 

but the depth of my feeling is indicative of how amazing this episode was. it was fast-paced, but not too fast to follow. it explored our character’s hopes and dreams and fears. the dialogue and acting was excellent. how much can be said with just eye contact, and then it breaking, is stunning. i want to know what happens next, and despite my eagerness, i am too disciplined and sleepy to go onto the next episode. 

(i have some thoughts that i need to gather and articulate at a later time regarding the use of unit 731 as a plot point, but they’re still loading, and frankly it would be better to make a post just on that subject once i can figure out how to verbalize them and if i feel that i can confidently tackle the subject matter)

goodnight world, i’m gonna scream. 

[pixeldistractions]

intermission: cleaning out the pipes

You get paid to unclog the toilet, not to ask what clogged it up in the first place. Try not to look. You really don’t want to know what’s in there.

Jordan never went to college himself. Having little experience about what goes on in these college dorms, he just assumed those wild college frat house movies were far-fetched. But then he hears giggles and moans from the room next door, and he wonders how terribly authentic they might be.

Excuse me, you’re doing what?!? With how many boys?!? Quiet little Melissa Fortney from Lakeside Heights? Shy bug girl who had a crush on Beau Jackson and only first learned about sex from Summer Phoenix at the cafeteria lunch table freshman year???

It’s always the quiet ones, isn’t it?

“We’re just messing around,” she says. “Nothing serious.”

Also, panties collection! 😱😆☠️

Jordan hurries downstairs to work on the dorm kitchen instead. Surely nobody is having sex in the kitchen. Surely! Right? Surely he can finish his work unnoticed. Right?

While there’s nothing obscene happening in this kitchen, yet, Delphie Deppiesse is utterly awestruck. She’s harmless, no worries. Valedictorian of her high school class and certified kindness ambassador, her thoughts are chaste, mostly. But she is overwhelmed with the desire to give this man everything he needs… except the space to do his work.

“Hi, we really appreciate your work here. Oh, I bet it’s really hard. (Delphie is far too virginal to even snicker over her use of the word “hard.”) Can I get you a cup of coffee? Can I hold your wrench? I’m eighteen now, by the way, in case you were wondering.”

Jordan wasn’t wondering. At all.

“Excuse me, um, don’t step in that puddle. I’m not insured for student deaths, I don’t think.”

Melissa joins Delphie in her admiration party, still smelling of saliva and other unmentionable fluids because she couldn’t have had the time for even a quick shower.

Didn’t you get your fill upstairs? we might ask.

Hardly, she thinks. Those college boys don’t really know what they’re doing. Melissa has a taste for older men. Men who know how to use their hands. Case in point: Hudson.

Somewhere in a far-off land called their fevered girlish imaginations, a scene unfolds:

His shirt, a size too small, pulls tight across his shoulders and biceps. The shirt is missing a few too many buttons. Torn buttons, actually, destroyed in a fit of passion, revealing a peek of chest hair and begging to be torn the whole way down to reveal the endless wonders beneath.

“Mmm, is that a wrench in your pocket, or are you happy to see me?” the girls ask.

And he says, “I couldn’t leave without making sure everybody’s pipes were cleaned.”

“Whew,” Melissa swoons, “I gotta go write something down.”

“Wait,” Delphie says, “Can I read it?”

So the girls run off upstairs to write a smutty fic and post it on Pillowfort where it will become viral for a few hours, and a small corner of the internet will simultaneously pleasure themselves over visions of a rugged blond plumber.

Finally, Jordan is left to finish his work day in peace, slightly scandalized, thinking, “Two-thousand dollars… two-thousand dollars… two-thousand dollars…”

Until Austin emerges from where he was watching, astounded at how thirsty those girls got over some overalls and a tool belt. And how many chicks could he score with a Halloween costume like that!?!

“Dude, can I, like, buy your outfit?” Austin asks. “I’ll give you twenty bucks for it? Twenty bucks! Man, come on!”

The clock strikes five and it’s clean-up time.

Go home, Jordan. We won’t judge you if you want to run.

Next -> // 5.2 start // index

[meraki-yao]

I want to hear your opinion on this. Please. If you can because the twitter account that I'll be talking about is on tumblr and I think her account is njwoman (unless they changed it). But anyway...

Their account on Twitter is @bourdainstalker if you want to see. But today was the PGA Awards and, sadly, they lost. Taylor went to the event and Nick didn't (I don't know if he got invited to attend or what). On their twitter account, they pinned a post that said they support both of them.

But immediately after RWRB lost the category, they posted a tweet that said "I know 1 person who doesn't care that they lost". And I know who they mean because every single time that Taylor talks about RWRB, they say something like 'Nick hates the movie'. Everytime Taylor signs RWRB books, they say something like 'Nick hates RWRB'. And also today, Phil Dunsen liked Taylor's Instagram post from yesterday and they said 'Colleagues supporting colleagues. It's so easy. Takes 30 seconds.' And I know who they're talking about because they always say that Nick doesn't like Taylor's Instagram posts.

For someone who says they support BOTH OF THEM, I don't think the word support means shitting on one of them. And spreading hate.

Someone really is obsessed for Nick's like. Like, Nick is so famous that so-called Taylor fans want Nick's like on Taylor's Instagram posts.

...whew. Okay, here we go.

I'm not on Twitter, so I can't (and don't really want to check it), so right now I'll take your word for it, especially since it's not just this person, I had plenty of anon ask come in my inbox with similar sentiments.

I'm going to divide this ask into parts and refute them accordingly:

1, Nick doesn't sign books

2, Nick doesn't like Taylor's post

3, Nick didn't attend PGA, he doesn't care

4, Nick hates rwrb

okay, let's start.

Regarding 1:

That's simply not true.

We see Taylor sign books and talk about rwrb, partly of course because he wants to and he's proud of the movie, but partly also because he shows up to events and places to do so. Think about it, when and where does he sign books? when he attends public events, whether or not it's related to the movie even marginally (ex: fashion events). when and where does he talk about rwrb publicly? when he's prompted to by an interviewer. I have no doubt that he could talk about the movie for hours on his own, but everything we see in public, is from him attending public events.

Nick hasn't been to that many public events since the strike ended. I can't keep track of how many events Taylor attended since August, in his China trip one day alone covered three to four events. Nick on the other hand, went to GQ Men of the Year in November, the Academy museum gala in December, and Milan Fashion Week for Fendi last month. That's it. And except for the academy gala where fans weren't really allowed to be there, so neither Taylor nor Nick got to sign anything, both other times, Nick signed the books. That's where the "Should I sign on Taylor's face? I heard he keeps signing in my face." came from. And that was literally last month.

And it's not a problem that Taylor attends so many events while Nick doesn't. It doesn't make Nick a lesser person. They just have different choices in how to use their time, as we all do. Taylor's also a significantly more extroverted person than Nick, who was diagnosed with anxiety and depression when he was young.

But anytime they can, they both sign books. So accusing Nick of not signing books isn't true in the slightest. It just seems that way because of the contrast between the number of events Taylor attends vs that of Nick.

Regarding 2:

I don't understand, nor see a logical explanation for being so fixating on "liking" on social media, and using that to determine their relationship. If that's how your friendship work, you may want to re-evluate them.

Also again, I think it's a matter of contrast and it's effect on perception. Taylor doesn't like Nick's post all the time either: since the strike ended, the only post of Nick's that Taylor liked is the Academy Museum Gala, George's "The Son The Seducer" poster, and the poster with Mary and George. That's three times. Neither of the boys liked each other's RWRB post.

And it's not like Nick doesn't like Taylor's post at all. In fact, he does it quite deliberately: In my "candies" post, When Taylor was in China but being attacked on Twitter, Nick suddenly popped out to like Taylor's Academy Museum Gala post, which is rare for him. At the end of the day, we can only speculate but it's pretty safe to guess that this was a sign of support amist the drama.

On top of that, there's actually a "candy" about their social media interaction that is in my part 2 post that I'm working on, but basically on Nick's Tik Tok, he cleared out a good number of following accounts, only keeping 7 out of 83 accounts: 6 are other co-stars that developed into close friends (we call it 閨蜜) like Camila Cabello and the girls from Bottoms, but the only one account left in his following list that's not a girl is Taylor. I would argue that's a stronger indication of a relationship than likes.

Regarding 3:

Nick didn't go because he's in London dealing with M&G promo stuff. It's airing in the UK next week. It's part of his job, and unlike going to award ceremonies, doing promo for a show that's airing really soon isn't optional.

Regrading 4:

When has Nick ever actually shown hate towards rwrb? Jacob Elordi literally saying that he hated making the kissing booth movies on record, same with Robin Pattison with Twilight, that's "the actor hates this work".

Nick mentioned in the limited amount of rwrb interviews we have that it was a thrill to work with Matthew and Taylor on this movie. After Prince Robert he didn't want to take another royal role but Henry was too fascinating of a character to not take up. He, despite not being able to be vocal about the movie due to the strike, posted ❤️ on premiere night. His rwrb Instagram post says that the love Henry's received one of the most heartwarming experiences in his life. He signs books. He even refers to Henry as himself: when he was asked to signed the Japanese cover of the book, he took one look at Henry, not even himself as Henry, BOOK Henry and said "wow I look so much better here!" it was Henry, and he used "I".

What about this could possibly indicate he hates rwrb?

Someone who shades on one actor clearly isn't someone who's supportive for the pair. Just because there are certain things people expect Nick to do that he doesn't, doesn't mean that he's what they claim to be. This isn't a valid method of verification. Everything I said here has evidence, visual or vocal or written evidence to back my points up.

If this person's opinions is hurtful and they won't listen to reason, then please block them. As upsetting as it is, getting into arguments won't do any good. You cannot change the mind of someone who has their mind set.

[ladylooch]

WAIT can you do Nico smut about letting him go without a condom for the first time? maybe he finishes quick and reader expects him to be done so the reader is a bit disappointed

A Night of Firsts- Nico Hischier

(say thank you GIF makers of Tumblr. We love you. Plz GIF more Nico at Worlds. Thx!)

A/N: So. I almost feel like I should apologize here. This is.. yeah. Whew. I’m a lil tomato here posting this cause it’s pretty smutty. Also, I’m getting on my soap box. As a.. mature (yuckie) woman, this may be an different opinion but it is fucking HOT when a man is like… omg I’m not going to last long and comes in a few strokes. I’m going to pat myself on the damn back about this 100% of the time. Now, our partners have a responsibility to handle it a certain way after and I think Nico does that here 😉 Enjoy bby.

World Count: 2.3k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ Content, Swearing, toys of the adult variety.

I sit on our bed in a plush robe, staring at the door to our master bathroom. Flickers of light are waving under the door at me from where my boyfriend is inside. It’s been quite the day for us. After the Devils were eliminated in the second round by the Hurricanes, Nico needed a day like this. We both did. What has the day entailed? Absolutely nothing. Except for soft touches that are igniting a need between the two of us. We had coffee in bed. Lunch at our favorite restaurant just down the street. We napped. Made Baked Ziti for dinner- the long two hour from prep to finish one- and indulged on hot chocolate chip cookies right out of the oven. 

After all that food, we were sleepy, but opted to watch a comfort movie: The Holiday. Nico secretly loves this movie and often puts it on when he sees it as an option on our various streaming platforms. Armed with a blanket and dressed in comfy sweatpants, we snuggled together under a fortitude of warmth. I was almost asleep when his hands started to wander. At first, just his finger tips dipped below my sweatpants, but it didn’t take long for him to begin stroking fire just above and below his favorite places. 

When I started returning the favor, Nico begin to writhe beneath me. 

“Let’s take a bath.” He blurted out suddenly once I finally skimmed my fingers over the tent in his pants.

“What’s in the bath that we don’t have here?” I asked. He bit his lip, looking at the two distinct points in my shirt.

“You wet and naked with a glass of wine.”

That sounded like heaven, so here I am, waiting patiently for him to open the door and let me in.

“Ready?” He asks when he finally cracks the door open. Just one of his eyes pokes out to look at me.

“Was five years ago.” I joke. He rolls his eyes. 

“Welcome to paradise, babe. Right here in Jersey!”

I grin as I step into the low, flickering light of the candle lit room. The smell is a combination of lavender and lemon. The bath is drawn perfectly and the warmth from it’s water fills the bathroom. Nico turned our towel warmer on to get our towels ready for when we inevitably dash out. He comes behind me, kissing the back of my neck as he gathers my hair up. He makes an awkward bun on top of my head, securing it with my purple scrunchie. 

“Ooo, that’s bad. Don’t let me do your hair when it matters.”

“Wasn’t going to.” I laugh as he works the tie of my robe apart. “Would ask Timo before you.” Nico considers and nods in agreement as he pushes the robe off my shoulders. He sighs when I’m naked in front of him. He brings me to the tub and steps in, then guides me to move between his legs. I settle back into his chest, feeling him grow hard beneath me. I look at him over my shoulder, gnawing on my lip aggressively as he hands me a glass of red wine.

“Thank you.” I murmur in appreciation. I lean back to rest my head against his shoulder, sighing at how good he and the water feel on my skin. I could stay here forever. I close my eyes after resting my wine glass back on the edge. Nico’s fingers trail from my hips up my stomach to my breasts. He holds them both in his hands, swiping the peaks into stiff points. My lips part with a pleasureful sigh.

“We’re gonna play tonight.” He whispers in my ear. “Wanna worship every part of you.”

“Okay.” I respond.

He plays with my nipples longer, letting the soapy water lap at them when his fingers take a break. I wiggle against his thick thighs, scratching my nails along them as he becomes stiffer against my lower back. His touch moves down my chest to glide between my legs. He fingers my opening then rubs a few, welcoming circles along my clit. A heavy moan falls from my mouth as he pushes my legs wider. 

“This thing waterproof?” Nico asks me, bringing my vibrator in front of my face. 

“Uh.” I sputter in surprise. “Yeah.”

“Can I use it on you?”

“Yes.” I whisper, eyes wide as he brings it into the water with us.

“Show me which setting you like.” He presses it against my folds and I suck in shallow breaths as I bring my hand over his on the device. It’s a clit focused vibe that has air suction with it. I turn it on, moving his hand back to adjust the intensity so we can build together. I feel Nico’s dick pulse against my back as I moan, setting the sucker over my clit. “Just hold it here?” He whispers into my ear. I nod, breathing in deep as he presses a bit further in. I jolt and he pulls back, sensing it’s too much. 

My legs widen further, one of them extending out of the bathtub. I dip further down Nico’s chest. The hair at the base of my skull gets wet as I dig my finger nails into his forearm.

“That mean more or less?”

“More. Next setting.” He increases one press and my loud moan rattles off the bathroom walls back to us. Nico grins into my hair, savoring the way I grind against the toy and his hand.

“That feel good?”

“Yeah. Ohmygod.” I yell, arching off his chest as his unoccupied hand comes to my breast. He rolls my nipple while biting my ear lobe.

“Mmm, good girl.” He praises. I’m gone after that. I shutter against the bathtub, pushing the toy away as I pulse rapidly. Nico drops it to the bottom of the tub gently rubbing my clit through the waves. 

“Holy fuck.” I moan to him as he kisses along my bare shoulder. I turn to capture our lips together.

“I’ve been wanting to do that to you for a long time.” He admits. 

“You should have asked sooner. I would have let you.” I murmur against his mouth. His tongue snakes out, lapping at me. He tastes like desire and red wine- my favorite things. I turn in his arms and work my way to straddling him. We make out. Nico’s hands trailing up my back. Between his touch, the orgasm, and the cooler air, goosebumps form along my skin. I shiver a bit, causing us to break apart. He lets me sit back further into the water, still mounted on his thighs.

“Maybe…We could have another first…” I trail off, smearing the bubbles on his chest as he places his wine glass back on the edge after a sip. His hands then grip my hips before trailing up to my ribs, just below my breasts. “Maybe I could feel all of you tonight?” Nico looks into my eyes, confused. “No condom.”

“Yes.” He says immediately, sitting up straight. “Yes and yes and yes.” I laugh as he leans forward to stuff his face between my breast, getting sudsed up in the process. 

“Nico.” I murmur, wanting him to think with more than just his dick.

“Baby, yes. We’re clean. We trust each other. We are in love. I want you pregnant with my baby as soon as possible. Just yes.” He knocks off all the worries I have in my head without them even being expressed. I bite my lip, not quite believing he’s real, even as his fingers run around to my ass cheeks, spreading them and working my hips into his hard cock. He’s just too perfect.

Nico stands, our bodies dripping obnoxiously as he walks us from the tub. He sets me on the bathroom counter, grabbing his towel and tossing me mine. We wipe as much water from us as we can before he’s hustling us into our bedroom. My damp back hits the comforter hard. I work my way up the bed as Nico follows me eagerly.

He strokes his head once through my folds then shoves himself deep. The feeling of his bare skin stroking mine is everything. I can’t even describe the feeling that rocks through my body. Nico shakes above me, mouth open to breathe as he watches my eyes. I bite my lip, breaking eye contact to groan in ecstasy. 

“Fuck.” He whimpers, breathing ragged as he strokes. It feels incredible, I agree, but I’m a little worried about how much his words quiver as he tells me how good I feel. He’s close already.

“Oh shit. Ah, I can’t. I’m sorry.” He pants abruptly from above, sliding out to come on my stomach. I purse my lips against the laugh at the way his face is distorted in pain and pleasure. “I’m sorry.” He moans as he strokes himself. I can’t help it and start to laugh, clasping a hand over my mouth to muffle the sound. “Oh god, now she laughs.” Nico hangs his head, squeezing his eyes shut with a final grunt.

“It’s okay. It’s hot. I came without you earlier.” I assure him, rubbing at his thick thighs. The hair there tickles my fingers as I stroke him.

“You felt so good, baby. Fuck.” He mumbles against my lips. He hovers over me making it hard for our lips to stay connected while he tries to not get cum on himself. “I’ll be right back.” He says, walking off to grab a towel. I laugh as he swipes along my stomach, digging into my belly button and making me cackle. He tosses the used cloth onto the floor, then comes back to give me a real kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” I say back to him, biting down on my bottom lip. I feel a little disappointed that it’s already over. We spent hours teasing each other for it to end without the ultimate high for me. “Wanna finish the movie?” I move to sit up, pushing those thoughts aside. Nico gives me a put off look.

“Uhhh… we aren’t done.” I look down at his softening shaft and then back into his face. I open my mouth to respond but then shut it again, not sure what to say. “Because I’m done we are done?”

“Well, yeah isn’t that usually how this works.”

“Not with me, baby. You’re not leaving this bed anytime soon.”

“Neeks, it’s okay you don’t have- oh.” I startle, snapping my head back into the pillow as his mouth moved between my thighs. He places teasing kisses all along the plumped lips. In the past, when old boyfriends would come early, that would be the end of this. Nico seems to have a different perspective. “Oh wow.” I whisper to the top of his head, threading my fingers through his hair. I pull his strands, mouth falling open to suck in a deep breath at the incredible circle his tongue forces along. I startle forward, quivering. He moans against my clit, making me buck harder into his face. His light stubble creates a friction that begins to slowly drag my orgasm to the surface. It’s incredible, deep and soft laps, then swift circles that make it hard to breathe.

Without me even asking, he slips his middle finger into my entrance, curling it up to hit the velvety spot I need him to. My abdominal muscles quake. I reach for his other unoccupied hand, placing it on my breast, so he can rotate my nipple between his fingers. I come hard against his lips, shaking into the tender kisses he leaves on my inner thighs. In a quick twist, he gets me to my stomach, then encourages my hips up into the air.

“I’m more than just a hockey all star.” He tells me as he strokes his plumped head through my sensitive folds. He’s rock hard, ready to dunk into the abyss again.

“Yeah you are, baby.” I groan as he slides in to the hilt. He’s so thick and deep. My head claps all the way back, lips parted and sobbing at the ceiling as he moves.

“Ugh.” He sounds tortured again. “You are so wet. Wish you could see how beautiful you look like this.” The slickness of me eases his thrusts and allows for him to pump deeper without any protest from my body. I reach around, gripping his wrist that holds my right hip. He leans forward, working his left hand around my stomach to press in a bit, making his cock feel so much deeper.

“Ooooo.” I breath out, quivering at how damn incredible he feels against my cervix. My teeth chatter in my mouth as Nico whispers in my ear.

“You’re taking me so good. Can you handle a bit more?” I nod and he presses deeper in. I become limp in his arms as my orgasm rocks through me. It’s so intense, Nico has to hold me up from collapsing off the bed. I pulse agressivly around him, pulling Nico off the cliff with me. He comes inside of me, smearing my walls unexpectedly.

“Shit. I’m so sorry.” He sputters for a completely different reason. He pulls out, stroking the last little bit of cum out of himself in a half ditch effort to save the moment. “I am so sorry. Baby. Shit.”

“Nico.” I reach around, holding his thigh so he can’t leave the bed. “I’ve got an IUD. We are good. And that was perfect. Don’t ruin it by freaking out.”

“I just.. I love and respect you and we didn’t talk about that being okay-“

“Consider this me saying it’s okay.” I grunt as I fall onto the bed, melting into the mattress and looking up into his face. “Tonight and every day after this. Don’t change a thing for next time.” Relief relaxes his shoulders and face. He looks down at me, eyebrows pulling together in adoration of me. My face is pink, hair curly from the dilapidated bun and our hot bath. My skin is peppered in gooseflesh from his strokes. “What are you thinking?” I ask. HE is quiet, eyes get deeper, fingers stroking at my face. 

“That I’m looking at the rest of my life.”

I smile back, knowing I’ll remember this moment with him forever.

[bigassbowlingballhead]

so we all know that my dreams are weirdly hyper realistic and plot driven so buckle the fuck up.

number one: everything (like, the rules of reality) was the same as real life except i guess my bf didnt exist (sad but necessary for the plot i suppose). im at thanksgiving at my parents house, which is a weekend long affair. tzp and redacted are married and also there bc they are my friends i guess. im definitely better friends w taylor than redacted but redacted and i get along and like each other. okay. the scene is set.

so, im preparing dinner with my dad and aunts like usual. taylor and redacted have slept in but taylor comes out to help eventually. he is fresh from a shower and wearing a very tight shirt. we talk while i cook and it’s clear that i need to fuck this man like, yesterday. within the dream logic, this is not the first time ive fucked around with him — this is a thing that we do. go me!

so we’re like okay, where can we go, bc i have a one story house and it’s full of family members at thanksgiving. i mean FULL. and redacted is sleeping so we dont wanna bother him, but there is literally nowhere that we can go that a family member wouldnt also be there and see us (damn you, open floor plans!!!) so what else can we do but go outside behind the pool shed, obviously.

now, it IS november in philadelphia, so it’s not WARM, but we’re making it work. i got this man bent over in a tiny corner of backyard, shirt fully off, making him see god. weve got our shoes on and mostly pants except for the important parts. hes not making as much noise as i want him to make (bc duh, we gotta be quiet), but im doing my damnedest to make him squeak, so im touching every inch of him that i can. i remember that i was thinking “i wish i had another hand to grab his hair, bc i already have one hand on his balls and the other on his dick and im not willing to give up on either of those for the sake of making him arch his back.” obviously this was a tough decision by me, but what are you gonna do. also at this point important to mention that i dont actually remember all the details, just flashes of stuff and general vibes. i was definitely like “hurry up and come man, we are on borrowed time here,” but taylor was apparently in no rush no matter how much i played with his dick. also at some point i put my hand on his stomach and could feel his abs and how he was moving every time i did and whew. that was hot.

so TRAGICALLY we were interrupted before the grand finale. i am not pleased but hey, if it’s time for dinner then it’s time for dinner. so i sit next to tzp at dinner and redacted sits on the other side and im TRYING to enjoy my MEAL but those two are definitely doing something under the table. whores.

things get a little weird and dreamscape-y here so i’ll skip most of dinner but the only relevant plot point that came up is i found out about something thats been seriously irritating me at work is happening again and so i was kinda pissed. but anyway.

so after dinner all the cousins decide to get in the pool which is insane to do bc it is NOVEMBER and my parents never even have the pool open at thanksgiving, but it’s my dream so fuck weather patterns in guess. so we’re all in the pool and taylor has clearly still not gotten off and redacted and i are having a good time messing with him, you know how it goes, standard pool shenanigans but nothing too bad bc my parents are RIGHT THERE so. keep it pg. but after we go inside?? oh all bets are OFF.

now here’s where things go bad for me. we go inside and we’re only in our towels and we’re all three looking for a place to fuck and we CANT FIND ONE. it’s only a three bedroom house and all three bedrooms are occupied. for some fucking reason we try my parents room first (which im glad was occupied bc i would not be down to fuck in my parents room, ick), but my little sister and my cousin are in there watching a movie with the little cousins, so thats a big fat no thank you. then we go to my sister’s room which yeah, i wouldnt feel GREAT about fucking in there, but it’s a redacteds threesome on the table and if i have to do it i will. but thats where my uncle and aunt are sleeping and hes in there napping after all the pie so thats another no go. so now im pretty pissed off bc of the work thing and also pls why cant we find a place to just FUCK.

so we go into my old bedroom and im thinking this will be fine, this is where redacted and taylor are sleeping anyway, (why didnt we go there first? whos to say) this will be open and we can get down. but we get in there and two people ive never met before are in the bed. what.

so my family tends to take in a lot of strays around the holidays. if you dont have a place to go for thanksgiving and you know a relative of mine, you are automatically invited to my parents house. theres always like 5-6 unrelated people at dinner just bc my uncle or cousin or whomever showed up and was like “i have extras!” and my mom is always like “dope! come in and eat!” it’s a lovely representation of the welcoming nature of my family and culture and it’s something that i always love to see around the holidays but it is also currently FUCKING ME OVER BC I JUST WANT TO BANG THESE MEN IN PEACE!!!

so im like “excuse me, with all due respect, who the fuck are you.” and the one guy was immediately rude (sir you are in MY BED) and was like “your mom said we could stay here so fuck off.” and im like??? YOU fuck off?? but then another part of me is like “no, your mother raised you better than that, you need to be welcoming to people so they dont feel unwanted.” the thing is that at this moment they are in fact VERY unwanted. so taylor is also pissed and redacted is trying to calm him down but keep in mind that taylor hasnt finished still so hes a bit bitchy. and redacted is like “what if we just went and got a hotel room somewhere,” and im like NO, we are in nothing but our bathing suits, we are all horny and ready to go, this is HAPPENING.

so i go back into my parents room and i ask my cousin hey have you seen my mom and also maybe you guys could watch the movie in the basement bc desperate times call for desperate measures and im not gonna fuck in my parents bed but maybe the floor would be fine. and shes like i think your mom is doing the dishes but why do you need a bedroom all to yourself? and i just gave her a look and i was like come on. why do you think. and she asked “ohh, okay, so wait, where do you see this going with taylor?” and i was like “oh it’s not going anywhere, he’s married to redacted, we just fuck around. it’s great, sometimes redacted joins, sometimes not, but it’s always a good time.” and she was somewhat scandalized and i was like oh right. within the context of my family that would be an objectively insane thing to just drop like that.

so anyway. after that the dream gets all weird and dreamy (there was some plotline with kamala harris i think? i think i worked for her? but she was actually also my irl boss interchangeably? idk). but thats the story of how i fucked taylor at thanksgiving in my subconscious. also i just remembered that while i was fucking him and had my hand on his stomach i could feel the outline of my strap through his abs. have a good day i love you 😘

the outline of your strap though his abs is CRAZY GIA. i love it.

also where'd the strap come from, was it stored behind the pool shed for safe keeping, are you just strapped at all times always ready to bend over a gay man? (me next)

[vellichorom]

oh wow, actually DOING one of these for a change... i haven't done this since my roleplaying days... WHEW, here goes!

Tagged by @maryyyy8 ( THANK YOU MARY !!!! don't mind me copying you a little bit! )

☕ - Last Song: Be Prepared ( The Lion king ) -- annapantsu cover;

☕- Currently Watching: ....i mean it's been a Lot of Markiplier's FNaF Let's Plays as of late to cope but i'm not really watching any " shows " right now... i'm boring like that :pensive:, the last show i watched was either.... Twelve Forever, Khonjin House, or Spooky Month (?)

☕ - Currently Consuming: Hatoful Boyfriend & Spooky Month, babey! thinking of turning around & walking my ass back to Danganronpa though... of course, stewing in The Stanley Parable sauce as well... i mean anything on the fixation list is the Current Consumable really,

☕ - Three Ships: ouh god i don't know.... uh,

GoreGuts, of course - speaking of TSP;

really into some " weird & strange " KazShuu ( Hatoful Boyfriend ) at the moment;

& hmm. Godseeker x any woman in Hallownest ( Hollow Knight );

& that's just my more conventional ships that make me sound like a normal, adjusted person ( <- out of her mind ), YOU should see the crossover ships my friends & i do, those are WAY more fun

☕ - Favorite Color: luv me some sweet cherry red, some kind of teal / mint, & caramel or coffee brown(s)...

☕ First Ship: oh dear god, i THINK... oh god was it selfcest. i remember shipping a lot of characters with their genderbent counterparts ( primarily a lot of adventure time / regular show characters at the time ) or Blossom PPG with Dexter Dexter's Lab...? 2010-12 was a fun period;

☕ - Relationship Status: single ( content to be for now, ) & figuring it all out man;

☕ - Last Movie: Scream ( 1996 ) :)

☕ - Currently Working On: Commissions, let's say,,

Tagging ~ @tomiechu, @varibean, @satisfiedskye, @prntrink, @chaos-canvas, @lilydoesdrawsometimes, @infectedpaul, & erm... WELL, IF YOU SEE THIS YOU GOTTA DO IT TOO

THANKS AGAIN MARY !!!!! how fun!

[greenorangevioletgrass]

openin' up | b.r.b.

pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x actress!reader

summary: it's an ordinary morning in their new house, and bradley gets enlisted for help with an... extraordinary warm-up for a morning rehearsal. [part of "the actress & the aviator" universe but can be read as a standalone]

word count: 1.8k

warnings: established relationship, domestic fluff, bradley is a simp but so is the reader, they're engaged y'all, language, smut [blowjob, dirty talk, switch!rooster, switch!reader, brief daddy kink, spit kink, cum eating, this is really filthy but soft i promise]

notes: i'm BACK, Y'ALL! i literally started this fic back in early october but life happened (i worked out of town, got out of a relationship, got into a new relationship. whew!) so i've only got around to finish it now. im a little rusty, so however much love you can give me would be greatly appreciated <3 thank you and happy reading!

✨ follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass to get notified for my latest words <3 happy reading and please reblog if you liked it! ✨

***

The house in San Clemente is new. The novelty of the living room furniture is apparent, bright and shiny and smelling faintly of packing boxes, save from Goose’s old piano they brought home from Virginia. The fridge only has three takeout menus pinned onto it, from the first week you moved in. The shelves and displays have barely gathered any dust on the books and awards and vinyl collections that newly inhabit them.

But the rhythm in how the two of you go about your day in this new home— your shared home… It's effortless and familiar. Tried and tested. Bradley’s alarm sounds off early in the morning, way too early, but you’ve learned to tune it out. But the prolonged absence of the human furnace you sleep with makes the bed all cold and empty, and it’s hard to go back to sleep like that (you wish you were being dramatic, but it’s true.) By the time Bradley gets out of the shower, you’re usually there, sleepily brushing your teeth and giving him a minty kiss good morning.

This morning, you’re already in the kitchen by the time he’s dressed for work. He hears you first; a cacophony of strange noises that would otherwise be alarming if it weren’t for how routine it is now. All the hums and sirens and lip trills and are those meows you’re doing for warm-up? 

“Morning, songbird.” Rooster saunters in with a kiss to your temple. Then, as he pours his coffee, nearly back-to-back as you hold a steaming cup of tea, he chuckles to himself.

You groan, catching the amusement right away. “Whoever thought it was a good idea to have a singing rehearsal so early in the morning is clearly not thinking,” you grumble, voice still gravely from sleep.

“Whoever thought it was a good idea to stay up late and binge Fleabag like she hasn’t seen it 4 times is…” you level his cheeky comment with a glare and he backtracks behind his coffee cup, “…clearly regretting it now.”

You pinch his side, scowling but not really. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Bradley does a shoulder wiggle in response, so bright and chirpy so early in the morning. A multitude of fun contradictions; tall and broad and imposing in his flight suit, sleeves tied up around his waist, yet at the same time…

Soft and domestic and adorable as he puts the bread in the toaster and cracks a few eggs to scramble (he does it with one hand, too, that cocky fuck.)

You love him so much, it’s ridiculous. It is so ridiculous, in fact, that it gives you an idea…

“Hey, what time do you have to be at work?”

“0900, why?”

You hum, taking a thoughtful sip of your magical concoction of ginger, honey, and lemon. And then…

“Can I suck your dick?”

He bursts out laughing. But then, seeing your completely straight face, he stops. “Wait, for real?”

“I’m serious! For singing purposes. I need to open up and warm up my throat.” He opens his mouth again to comment, but you cut him off, “And don’t ask me how I know this works. But it does.”

People would say your love story is one for the movies. A movie star and a naval aviator falling in love while filming thousands of feet in the air. The two worlds collide, and your lives are intertwined forever. It’s a grand Hollywood romance.

Nobody would ever expect that your happy-ever-after is a comedy.

“Well, jeez, buy me dinner first, ma’am.” He rolls his eyes playfully, as if his heart rate wasn’t picking up. He tries to keep it cool, teasing her right back. “Also, is that the only reason? I am hurt.”

“Well, what do you want me to say?” there’s an air of innocence in your reply —a stark contrast to your request. You come up behind him and wrap your arms around his middle. “That you look so good in your uniform, and I want you to fuck my face? Come down my throat?”

Okay. Maybe it’s a slightly raunchy comedy.

There’s a heavy three-second gap. Three seconds of Bradley’s tightening grip on the spatula and the pan, from the three seconds of your figurative grasp right where you want him.

Three seconds of his slow, bracing draw of breath.

“Honestly?” He pipes up, “Yes.”

Click. You turn the stove off and he has to remind himself to let go, and let you turn him around. Amusement, intrigue, lust, and love painted his face like a swirl of colors. God, you adore him.

You back him into an empty counter, careful not to bump into any hot mugs or pans. “You know I like seeing your suit half done up like this...” Your voice is still rough from sleep, and he swears it’s the sexiest sound his brain can comprehend. “Makes really, really wanna swallow you whole ‘til I choke on your cock. Will you let me do that?”

His Adam’s apple bobs. His lips fall open slightly, but no sound comes out.

You love him like this. All dazed and dumb when you’ve barely done anything to him. It makes you feel powerful. And there’s no power trip quite like knowing you hold the reign.

Even when you give it up.

You bat your eyelashes, sighing just a little when his dick, now fully erect, flexes against your belly in attention. “Please… Daddy?”

Fuck. 

Bradley Bradshaw is still just a man. And as stubborn as he is (and he is plenty stubborn, ask anyone), he is running out of reasons to believe that this is a bad idea. Then again, who is he to deny his fiancée a blowjob for her own sake?

He groans, guttural as he grabs a handful of your ass. “‘Course you can, baby.”

You lean in for a kiss, tender and loving despite everything, and he wants to melt into your touch. It’s oddly comforting to see that amidst the absurdity, it’s still you and it’s still him. And wherever you are, whatever you do —be it having breakfast or doing weird things for warm-up—, this is home. 

And home is where you sink down to your knees, taking his pants and boxers down with you on a random Thursday morning. 

His cock stares right at you, veins running along the sides as it curves ever so slightly to the right. A pearly bead leaks out of his pinkish tip, and you dart out your tongue to taste him. And a taste is never enough —you want to devour all of him.

He can feel the ground pulling from underneath him. One hand with knuckles white on the counter, the other cradling the back of your head. Not quite pushing you, just… caressing you as you adjust to his girth.

Bradley is a big boy, and you say this with no exaggeration whatsoever. It always hurts a little at first when he fucks you, no matter how much he’s made you come before that, and giving him a blowjob is no different. Exhaling slowly through your nose, you relax your jaw and draw yourself closer inch by inch…

“Shit, baby…” His dick is all snug in your warmth, his dream woman on her knees, and he feels on top of the world. “You gonna be a good girl, take all of Daddy’s cock? Come on. Open up, that’s it, that’s… fuck.”

He reaches the back of your throat, making you gag, and it takes him everything to not lose it at the blissful sensation of you tightening around him.

“Breathe, breathe…” he rakes his long fingers through his hair, although he’s probably partly saying it to himself, too. “You okay? D’you need a minute?”

Your glassy eyes look up at him, and he’s praying please please please I might not even last a minute like this… 

It’s a strange, delicate balance of your relationship dynamic. In your obscured vision and compromising position, it’s Bradley who surrenders himself to you. Gentle. Careful. Vulnerable. It makes you feel fucking glorious. 

So you shake your head slightly, and drag your mouth along his heavy shaft.

“God, baby, you feel so fucking good… so perfect, my baby’s so perfect, Jesus fuck—” he swallows heavily, and groans just as heartily. “You’re all mine, aren’t you? I’m the only one who gets to fuck your mouth like this. I’m the only one who gets to come inside you— forever. Fuck, I can’t wait to marry you…”

You look up at him when you hear that, and he finds your gaze, catching the humorous, mischievous glint in your eyes. His brain is in your mouth, and he couldn’t care any less. If you’re gonna tease him all week for what he said, so be it. Because the truth of the matter is, he means it.

With his whole damn heart.

And as the pounding in said heart picks up, so does the rush of blood all over his body. Your hand joins your mouth at the base of his cock, stroking him closer and closer to his release. And he all but loses his mind. His fists open and close as tingles run all the way to his fingertips.

“Baby, baby, baby…” he chants, almost feverishly, “I’m so fucking close, baby, pleasepleaseplease, can I come, please baby, I need to— fuck… fuck. Fuck!”

Warmth pours into your mouth, and you make sure to catch every last drop of pearly white he’s giving— surrendering— to you. Not letting him go until he rides out the very last waves of his orgasm. And when he does, you rise up to your feet and face him.

All flustered and fucked out just for you.

You cup his chin between your thumb and forefinger, motioning him to open. Bradley leans back against the counter, tilting his head up and sticking his tongue out for you. His brown eyes are fixed on you, waiting, wanting like he hasn’t just come less than a minute ago. And when you spit his release back into his mouth… he closes them like he’s coming again.

He takes every single drop just like you did, and swallows it all. But even that’s not enough. He pulls you in by the back of your neck for another searing kiss.

“I love you,” he murmurs into your lips.

“I love you, too.” You kiss him one last time and pull away. Taking a hearty sip of your tea and humming a simple five-note scale. “Mm, much better.”

Bradley watches on, all dumbstruck, as you continue your vocal warm-up while washing your hands and grabbing plates to set up on the table. Carrying on and minding your business as if nothing had happened.

Well. 

Apart from the cheeky look you share as you continue your ordinary morning routine. Making your new home a little more lived-in everyday.

And then, he grins widely, pulls his pants back on and turns the stove back on to finish cooking. “Man, I love morning rehearsals…”