#i drew it after finishing my huge project and then taking a day break | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

justkpopjokes · 2 years ago

Text

Colour of You: Blue

Ft. Dino/Lee Chan × gender-neutral!reader

AU: college art majors, reader has synaesthesia (or mad colour theory skills if u want instead)

Word Count: 1.9k of bullet points

A/N: fun fact, I had sound-visual and smell-temperature syanesthesia as a kid! Anyway here’s a fic that I teased back in 2017 but am only now posting! I remember one of the first readers also had synaesthesia and left a sweet comment, so as an homage to them I leaned into it ^^

This boy’s college major is dance!!

I mean, what else? Cuz dang he is amazing at dancing

Like really good

Michael Jackson is his idol, inspiration, motivation, and inner beast

((Side note, “inner beast” is my new favourite Nick Offerman quote))

So, of course, his favourite move is the moonwalk

I mean, what else?

Well, he has others, but he says it’s the moonwalk to be the best fanboy

Theatrics aside, his favourite part of the day is meeting with other visual art majors in a huge open room

It’s their clubhouse of sorts, where people can come to collaborate on things related to their major(s) and bring in whatever they want for their projects (given that they can clean it up afterwards)

You’re in Chan’s college as a Studio Arts major (there’s a reason!!), so you also go to the same visual arts club after your classes!

You love looking at what everyone else is doing so you can sketch and paint them

People think you’re really good at representing people with colour

And in fact, it’s because you have synaesthesia!

So, overtime, you could identify people and then depict them in the colour your brain assigns them by drawing/painting them!

It’s a sweet gesture you do once in a while, which you sometimes gift to the person if you’re feeling particularly inspired

But in addition to your synaesthesia (and an alternative if you don’t think you can get with the synaesthesia plot line), you also mad good at colour theory and aesthetics

So people will often ask you to find them a colour that suits them the best!

Because of all that you’re pretty well known in your small studio arts major community

But lately, you’ve been keeping to yourself and don’t start conversations on your own

And like no one knows why?? Lmao

Simple answer: You’re crushing on that cute dancer, Lee Chan, whom you see at the visual arts club 👀

Originally, you came to this hangout room to hopefully make some friends

And you did make friends!! But also you became super smitten with this guy

Like he’s so cuuuuuteeeeeee talented and passionate

It makes your heart flutter when he dances and happens to look in your direction

But talking to him feels so intimidating so it’s a huge nope™

Your first meeting was so embarrassing; it was during the second time you were at the hangout spot

You had been sitting next to one of your new friends

You were feeling pretty bored though, so your eyes wandered to some guys who were practicing a dance they choreographed and decided to draw one of them

The guy was Chan, the best dancer you’ve ever seen!

You were quietly focusing on your sketching, capturing the motion and fluidity as best you can in a still drawing

While the dancers were taking a break, you were finishing your picture by adding off-set colours to represent movement

Shades of azure and teal blue splash onto the page, looking almost like an ocean wave

Chan just happens to looks over your shoulder as he passes by

Chan: “Hey, is that me?”

You: “OH. UM—did you not want to be? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Chan: “No no, it’s okay. It looks cool! I like the blue.”

You just.

Just nod. Yeah. Thanks.

(Hoooo boy that’s too many feelings to deal with right now—)

As the days went by, you drew multiple people on one page so it would seem a little less creepy

And you were never running out of people to sketch; there was always someone performing in the open floor area of the room, or people doing drawing challenges and sitting still enough for you to have a good reference

People were always so fascinated with the colours, even more so after you gave them a quick explanation that your brain assigned it to them

Sometimes people would even wear the colour you assigned to them the next day! It was a fun thing to see them match the colour you saw in your head

Thankfully, Chan didn’t seem to mind that you drew him again, too!

Whenever he’d pass your seat—where you were always doodling in your notebook—you would get really flustered because he’d look at you and say “your drawing style is amazing!”

You pour your heart and soul into your drawings of him just because of that

His kind soul deserves it!

After about a year of you drawing people and assigning them in that club, Chan suddenly comes up to you out of nowhere

You’re a bit confused and flustered since you weren’t actually drawing him that time

Chan: “Hi, Y/N. I heard you have, uh, synaesthesia? Is that right?”

You: “Mhm. I associate people with colours.”

Chan: “Cool, I thought I heard someone mention that. I have a question for you about that, actually.”

At this point, Chan is sitting next to you, so you’re a bit antsy and struggling to stay cool and not look weird and not seem like a creep

Chan: “Do you have a colour for my friend, Jun?”

You: “Who’s that?”

Chan: “Oh, he’s the tall guy with the brown hair over there. We’re on the same dance team.”

He laughs awkwardly a bit and at that point you’re unsure whether you should be embarrassed for not knowing or if he’s embarrassed for assuming you knew already

You: “Ohh, Junhui, yeah! He’s purple to me. Like, a shade of mauve, if you know what that is. That and a darker purple. Why?”

Chan: “I was thinking of getting him a gift. Something purple would be cool! I wonder if he’ll like that!”

Chan laughs again, this time with more heart

It’s sweet ^^ So cute okay stop fawning over him

After your very short chat, Chan waves goodbye and gets up to join his friends again, so you watch them block out a performance again

They’re planning to perform at the school’s perfoming arts festival at the end of the year, so they’ve been practicing any chance that they get

Cue the dramatic sigh

You never told anyone, but ever since you first saw him, you’ve always saw Chan as that same mix of azure and teal blue

You’ve always included blue in your drawings of Chan, even if he wasn’t wearing blue

You were actually finishing up a drawing of him now, which he saw again

Chan: “You know, Y/N, you should come watch us at the music festival! Maybe you could draw us performing?”

Then some random dude shouts

“OOH WAIT IS Y/N GOING TO DRAW OUR SPECIAL PERFORMANCE”

It turns out it’s Jun, who had immediately bounded over with excitement

Jun: “That would be so cool! Please watch Y/N please please it’s my last year performing”

CUE THE NERVOUS NOD YEAH OKAY I WILL!!

“Special performance” sounds interesting though, like what specifically is special about it other than Chan being there

Anyways the weeks up to the end of the year are obviously stressful, but you—along with the other arts majors—are anticipating Chan and his friends’ performance

Especially since they’ve organized for you to have a whole easel to work on with a good view of the stage!!

((Think like. Wedding painter vibes lol))

Finally, the day of the “special” performance, you’re set up at your wooden easel, far enough from the stage that you can see everyone

Considering you’d be watching a few performances, you brought quite a few canvases with you so you could paint some other stuff

Maybe even sell them to people at the festival 🤭 the performers would probably buy some

After all the performers have finished, the sun is beginning to set…and Chan still hasn’t performed yet??

Jun said they’d be last, but it’s starting to get dark so you’re losing precious light

But then the lights turn on and Chan and Jun, along with a couple of their friends, are on center stage!!

The crowd starts getting excited again and claps as the music begins

The 4 guys on stage are wearing all-white clothes and jackets, dancing to a modern but sort of slow melody

((Think the intro of ITZY’s Wannabe, something that’s going to give you goosebumps right before the music ramps up

Alternatively, you can imagine Dino’s mixtape Zero for all of this since it was the inspiration!!))

You get right to sketching, already having a plan!!

Wow the all-white really does make this seem like a wedding tho lmao

Then the lights start to dim, and the dancers do some sort of crazy formation

CUE THE BEAT DROP and suddenly theRE’S EXPLOSIONS OF CONFETTI AND COLOUR

All 4 guys on stage have ditched their white clothing and did a quick change, revealing the colourful fabric underneath

THE PARTY. HAS. STARTED!!!

2 of the guys, one being Jun, are wearing purple, just like you had mentioned to Chan before

Meanwhile, Chan himself (along with their remaining friend) is wearing blue!

💙💙💙 BLUE!! 💙💙💙

You’re so taken by surprise that you can barely remember what you’re doing

Everyone is dancing to the music at this point except you, sitting still in front of your easel, paintbrush in hand, jaw dropped, looking up at Chan with heart eyes

By the time the performance is over, you’ve managed to regain composure and depict the whirlwind of blue and purple on your canvas

Some confetti even gets stuck onto the canvas which is pretty cool

Many people passing by compliment you!! You sell a couple paintings too (nice)

But no one can beat Chan’s praise!!

Once he and his team go over to see what you’ve made, they’re blown away by the pop of cool tones you added to the canvas

(Jun wants to hang it up in their practice room lmao)

Once the festival is officially over and people are beginning to leave, Chan decides to help you clean up your paint supplies

You chat about his performance—turns out, he was the one who came up with the colour idea

Chan: “I really was thinking of getting Jun a gift since he’s graduating soon, but then I thought we could use your colours as a wow factor. I noticed you drew me in blue a lot, so I just guessed that was my colour.”

Chan had always been noticing you; after all, he loved your drawings

How creative they were,

The colours you assign to people,

How their colours never changed…

And how he was always those same shades of blue!

But around you, he never felt blue haha

Because he likes you even more than your drawings

In truth, he had a crush on you too, ever since he knew he inspired your wonderful art and you inspired him in turn

He finds you so cute

How you push your hair back when you’re thinking and he can see your face better

How you turn pink every time he walks by (yeah, he notices)

How he hears from your friend that you completely melt after he compliments you…

And he tells you all of this with the remaining adrenaline from his performance today

Which, of course, you confess that he’s right about that last thing…and that you like him too!

So all he can do is scoop you into a twirling hug and make you feel like an ocean wave of blue has washed over all your senses

Blue, the colour of you—both of you.

#seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seventeen fluff #lee chan imagines #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #jkj fics #.txt

19 notes · View notes

art · 2 years ago

Photo

Creator Spotlight: @velinxi

Hello! I’m Xiao Tong Kong, better known as “Velinxi.” I’m the creator of the webcomic Countdown to Countdown and have been doing freelance artwork since I was a teenager. I love telling stories with my illustrations! Tumblr was where I first got my start as an artist, specifically a small fandom artist as a hobby… and now I’m somehow here! When I’m not trying my best to stay awake in front of my tablets, I’m usually cooking, gaming, or sleeping. Sometimes all three, in my dreams.

Check out our interview with Velinxi below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

Yeah! I’ve basically been on track to become an artist since I was a child. I went to a middle school with an emphasis on arts and a high school specializing in it. I went to SVA briefly for computer arts but dropped out to pursue freelance and webcomics after my first year.

Over the years as an artist, what or who were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

My biggest inspirations growing up were Yuumei and Shilin Huang, two titans on DeviantArt back in the day. They still inspire me today, but the list of inspirations has grown exponentially over the years, including artists, movies, entire art movements, etc.

What was your thought process behind the creation of your webcomic, Countdown to Countdown?

Well, Countdown to Countdown started as a passion project back when I was 15, in high school, and pretty depressed. I just wanted to draw whatever story I thought was cool, inspired by my favorite media at the time. There was a very loose beginning and outline, but I was truly just writing as I drew the story. That’s why I had to stop the comic in 2018 and restart from scratch the year after. Now, the story has a set story and a clear outline. It still has similar roots, characters, and themes of neglect, abuse, and escape—but I think the story is a lot easier to follow now. It’s got an artstyle I can actually keep up with in the long run. The origin of why CTC exists also remains the same: I simply wanted to make a story I wanted to read for myself. Which happens to be about two dumb boys with superpowers navigating a hostile world that wants them dead or caged—together.

Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?

Oh, all the time. It’s part of the process. Personally, though—I just have to draw through it. Every month on my Patreon, I have my patrons vote on a theme I have to draw by the end of the month, and I try my best to make it as interesting as possible. I draw quite a few—tens even, of doodles or compositions for each of these themes to try to make something that tells a story while still being aesthetically pleasing and clear. I think pushing myself like this helps with art block, really. I also do remember to take breaks and simply consume other media I like! It gets the inspiration juices flowing.

Advice you would give to an aspiring creator?

If you do one—your first webcomic should be a short, fun, messy thing. It’s not often you can get it right the first time, but you’ll certainly learn a lot through sheer experience. This goes for a lot of things in art, to be honest.

What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?

3D Animation. I briefly learned it at SVA, and I think that’s enough of that tech for me. I accept that there are some things that are truly beautiful if done right, and I am too simple and lazy for it.

What is your goal for the rest of this year?

Get Countdown to Countdown book 2 finished! And live HAHA

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

@yuumei-art on Tumblr, still! They’ve been a huge inspiration for digital artists and storytellers online for years. I have no doubt that many digital artists of my generation have been influenced by them, and they’re still here, making beautiful art and stories. It’s a thing to behold.

Thanks for stopping by, Velinxi! If you haven’t seen her Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here. You can also follow her for more amazing art over at her Tumblr, @velinxi!

#creator spotlight #artists on tumblr #velinxi #xiao tong kong #countdown to countdown

5K notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years ago

Text

Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨2

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) nothing as yet.

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: Thank you for your positive response to this one! I hope you enjoy what I have in store.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Your Spotify list of redundant tracks flowed through the apartment as you sat typing at your small desk in the corner of the front room. The boxy space was as oppressive as any office space, another reason for your voluntary work at the gallery. Vanessa let you in the studio to paint. Without the privilege, you wouldn’t have the space for your easel.

You stretched your fingers and rubbed your eyes. You felt dizzy from staring at the screen, even with night mode on. The work was monotonous and made you restless. You wanted a pencil or brush in hand, a canvas before you, not this blaring laptop. You yawned and took a sip of your lukewarm water.

Your phone vibrated from across the room and you checked the time. Your lunch started soon but no one was really keeping track. As long as you got your assignments done, it didn’t matter when you chewed on toast and disassociated.

You got up and grabbed your phone from the corner table and leaned against the arm of the couch. You remembered how Marcus woke up there and grumbled as he lifted his head in pain. You couldn’t really feel bad for him going into work hungover. He embarrassed you and it didn’t quite sink in until after Clark left you to stare down at your drunk boyfriend.

An unknown number showed on your screen and you answered tentatively, ready to hang up at the first sales pitch. Your name came from the speaker and you recognized the deep voice in an instant. It took you back to the night before and the canvas hung on the wall.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” Clark said, “I only just had the paintings hung and I thought… well, I thought you might like to come see them in their new home.”

“Um…” you chewed your thumb, uncertain how to respond.

“Sorry, I know I can be a bit… to the point,” he laughed at himself, “how are you?”

“I’m good, just… taking a break.”

“You working?”

“Yeah, but I work from home,” you said as you touched the side of your neck, “I could… I could come see them but it might be a while before--”

“When are you finished work?” he asked bluntly.

“Four but I… maybe another day.”

“I don’t mean to be pushy but I did have something else to speak with you about,” he said, “a commission, like I mentioned.”

“Oh?”

“I kinda wanna get it started sooner than later, it will probably be pretty time-consuming,” he explained and you heard a clink and a soft sip, “I don’t wanna get into details on the phone but I promise, you will be compensated nicely.”

“You can’t wait until tomorrow?” you wondered.

“I suppose I can but it’d have to be during the day,” he responded, “why don’t you take some time to figure it out and get back to me by two? You can text me through this number.”

“Erm, sure,” you said uneasily, “I’m sorry, it’s just… very sudden, I don’t--”

“You can bring the boyfriend,” he said casually, “if you like.”

“He won’t be… home,” you said carefully, “I’ll let you know. Thank you.”

“I look forward to hearing from you,” he replied, “have a good day.”

“You, too,” you said and the line died.

You put your phone down and took a moment. Good things rarely happened to you. You struggled so long it was hard to think that might change. The skeptic in you told you there was something behind it all. That it couldn’t possibly be your art.

You went back to your computer and sighed as you waved away the screensaver with your mouse. The blinking cursor made you want to believe it was your big break.

🎨

You texted Clark at one and at four, you were in an Uber. Marcus drove his car to work and you stuck to buses and the underground when you could. The address was at least an hour out, the house among those estates on the edge of the city reserved for the upper echelon. You’d only ever seen the sprawling yards on your way to the next town.

When the car finally turned up the drive and you passed beyond a low brick wall, you felt entirely out of your depth. You tipped the Uber but didn’t feel too bad with the check from Vanessa sitting soundly in your account. You clutched the strap of your bag and walked along the curve of the brick work towards the stairs.

“Hey,” you stopped as Clark called to you, your ankle still tender from the night before.

You glanced over as he came out of the large garage and peeled off a pair of leather gloves. He smiled as he tucked them into his jacket pocket. You watched him and played with the clasp on your bag.

“Just got back from a drive,” he said, “I almost got carried away. I’m glad you made it.”

“Yeah, no problem,” you replied.

“Well, come on, let me show you around,” he waved behind you towards the front doors, “we’ll go on a tour and then we can talk details.”

“Wow,” you uttered mindlessly as you climbed the stairs to the door but kept the weight on your uninjured ankle, “this place is huge.”

“My contractor went a little crazy,” he scoffed, “but I can’t complain.”

He led you through the doors and directed you to the left. In the front room, your work was hung along the opposite wall, arranged in a way that drew the eye to them. You stepped closer and peered up at your work with a hint of awe. They looked even better in a place like that.

“I had my interior designer make the final call on where to hang them,” he explained, “I hope you don’t mind, I gave her your details. She said she had clients who might be interested in your work.”

“Really?” you breathed, “that’s… too nice.”

“Oh yeah? One day, you’ll be sick of rich pricks like me,” he grinned, “I’ll show you the pool, that’s usually the main attraction.”

“Sounds good,” you said as you followed but he paused and watched your stunted gait.

“I forgot, we can go slow,” he offered, “how’s the ankle?”

“I’ll make do,” you affirmed as you neared him, “just need to get my steps in.”

🎨

As you finished the tour of the second floor, you slowed along the long hall and admired the work of artists you only ever saw in museums. You couldn’t help but be enamoured by the historic blots of paint. You almost forgot where you were as you leaned in to read the initials beneath the pastel flowers.

“So,” Clark’s voice brought you back, you almost blanked him out entirely in your mind, “I think you might have noticed the empty space above the fireplace in the front room. I was hoping you could fill it.”

“Oh?” you looked at him and smiled nervously, “did you have something in mind? A landscape or--”

“Well, your portraits are great. I like the old world style. I was hoping you might do one of… me,” he suggested, “I know, it’s vain but why not?”

“I mean, yeah, I could do that,” you said.

“I’ll pay hourly plus materials,” he continued, “three hundred an hour.”

You almost choked at the number. You blinked and swallowed through your surprise.

“Even a small portrait would take at least twelve hours,” you warned, “are you sure?”

“I know it’s a lot of time for you, so… I was thinking, if you have to miss work, I’ll factor it into your rate. I would really like to get the project started as soon as we can,” he put his hand on his hip as he looked down at you, “the only thing I need from you is a list of materials. I’ll have them waiting for you here.”

“Here?”

“Well, yeah, I figure it makes most sense,” he turned his palm out.

“Hmm, sure, I prefer my own brushes but… you know I can just buy the stuff myself--”

“Ah, no, I want it to be perfect. You send me a list and I’ll have my assistant go out and get it all ready,” he assured, “How does Sunday sound?”

“Sunday?” you blanched. That was two days away.

“Like I said, Marcus is more than welcome to come with you,” he offered, “I’d hate to keep you from him too long.”

“I guess Sunday works,” you squeaked, “I’ll talk to Marcus.”

“Great,” he said coolly, “well, that’s business. How about a drink to seal the deal?”

“I don’t know, I should probably get back,” you fiddled with your bag against your hip.

“One drink won’t hurt,” he said, “go on, call the boyfriend and let him know you won’t be much longer.”

“I… thanks,” you murmured.

“You’re humble for an artist,” he joked as he sidled by you, “once you grow an ego, you’ll be unstoppable.” He neared the stairs as you turned to watch him, “I’ll be at the bar, waiting. You like gin?”

“Sure,” you answered as you pulled out your phone, “I’ll see you down there.”

🎨

When you told Marcus about your new side gig, he was even more excited than you. You were anxious and slightly hesitant. You hated to jump in feet first and risk losing more than a few tubes of paint. What if the work wasn’t good enough?

Marcus was more than willing to come with you when you told him about the size of the place. He knew by the area that it was extravagant. You sat in the passenger seat with the most expensive bottle of wine you’d ever bought cradled between your legs. You hated to show up empty handed after all of Clark’s generosity.

Marcus got lost and went down the wrong driveway before you righted your course. As you drove up, you were once more overcome from the rich rosebuds and sparkling fountain at the centre of the mosaic. You gripped the neck of the bottle and got out as Marcus whistled in awe.

“You weren’t kidding. This place is fucking nuts,” he swore, “I should’ve worn the tux from my brother’s wedding.”

“Please, Marcus,” you rolled your eyes, “let’s both try not to break anything.”

“You’re the clumsy one,” he chirped, “shit, you’re so lucky. You get to hang out here and paint all day? God, I wish I had an ounce of artistic talent. I’d trade it for code in a minute.”

You climbed the steps and clanged the large knocker on the right door. You waited a moment before an answer came and Clark appeared on the other side and beckoned you inside. He smiled as he shook Marcus’ hand.

“Thanks for joining us,” he said, “I would’ve felt awful stealing your girlfriend on the weekend like this.”

“Are you kidding me? She said you had a pool and I snuck the swim shorts into the backseat,” Marcus chuckled and you nudged him with your elbow.

“See?” Clark arched a brow, “the pool is always the seller.”

“Here,” you said as you held out the bottle of red, “for everything you’ve done and welcoming us into your home.”

“Ohhh,” he took the bottle and looked over the label, “I got a spot for this right behind the bar. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I brought my brushes,” you patted the canvas bag on your shoulder.

“Mmm, yeah, well, I’ll just put this away and we’ll give Marcus the grand tour. Then I’ll get you situated,” he assured and rushed off.

He returned and pointed Marcus through to the front room, “you’ll see, just over here,” he directed him to your paintings.

“Oh, wow, babe,” Marcus marveled at the hung portraits, “you really did it.”

You smiled bashfully and Clark peeked over at you and winked. You squirmed as your cheeks burned and you turned away as he beckoned Marcus past the mantle.

“It’s a big place,” Clark said, “I’d like to get you started before noon.”

Clark led you along the same path as days before and slowed as you came back to the top of the stairs. He turned back and clapped his hands together.

“Marcus, if you wanna hop in the pool, we’re gonna start just in there,” he pointed to the one door you hadn’t looked through, “that’s the studio.”

“What about you?” Marcus asked.

“Well, I’ll be a part of the process so I’m afraid I will be just as busy but if you need anything, Nina, she has a crooked nose and mean mouth but don’t let her fool you, she’ll get you whatever you need,” he said, “just don’t track in water from the pool or she’ll string you up.”

“Oh, well, that doesn’t sound too bad. Some alone time in the sun and a pool,” Marcus grinned, “I really couldn’t ask for anything else… except you, babe.”

“Sure,” you scoffed, “go, have fun.”

Marcus kissed you quickly and thanked Clark again before he excitedly barreled down the steps. You scratched your neck as you looked back to your host, and you guessed, your new boss.

“I’m sorry about him. He can be such a kid sometimes,” you said.

“Nah, it’s fine,” he waved it off, “so, you ready to see your workspace? I kinda wanted it to be a surprise. Also, a bit last minute so it’s not perfect… yet.”

“Uh, yeah,” you answered, “can’t wait.”

He motioned you over to the tall dusty rose doors and hooked his fingers in the slotted handles. He slid them open and revealed an airy room with a tall ceiling and long windows. An easel stood facing the sun streaked glass, an immense canvas bigger than yourself, bigger than him, propped up on it. There was a ladder nearby and the table was set with a rainbow of paints and a large pallet.

Your lips parted as you neared the easel and stared up at the canvas, “you were right, it’s gonna be a lot of work.”

“I hope it’s not too much,” he said, “but you name your price. We’ll make it work.”

“No, no, I think for what you’re paying, I’ll do just fine,” you put your bag down daintily on the table, “so, uh, a portrait, I guess that means…”

Your voice trailed off as he went to the upholstered chair across the room, at an angle so you could see him from your vantage. Behind it, hung a velvet curtain to add to the scene and a bust on a pedestal. It felt surreal, like a dream.

You turned and pulled out the brushes, “I think you’ll get more tired than me, just sitting there.”

“I’ll make it through,” he assured as he sat, “is there anyway you’d like me to sit? Chin up, or…”

“Hmmm,” you turned to look at him, “I think… if you just put your shoulders back and… did you want a profile or--”

“I was thinking front-facing,” he stared at you steadily, unflinching as his eyes stuck to you, “just like this.”

“Perfect,” you said nervously and looked back to the table.

There was water to rinse your brushes, rags, pencils, blending sticks; everything you needed and more. You took a pencil from the bunch and pulled over the ladder. You climbed up and looked over at Clark as he sat stoic and still. He looked picturesque in real life, you expected paint would only lend to his figure.

His eyes met yours and you turned to start tracing the basic shapes onto the canvas. You had to stop and steady your hand as you did. His gaze made it hard not to tremble.

#clark kent #dark clark kent #dark!clark kent #clark kent x reader #dark fic #fic #dark!fic #series #portrait of a dangerous man #dc #dcu #au #mob au #mob!au #superman

712 notes · View notes

wanderinginksplot · 3 years ago

Text

Riye (A Favor) - Alpha-17/f!Reader fic

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Third installment of my Alpha-17/fem!reader fic!

Word-Count: 3,100

Warnings: aggressive flirtation, Alpha is rude.

---

You carefully straightened the neckline of your shirt, eyes on the refresher mirror. It might be silly, but today marked a full month since you had come to Kamino, and you wanted to look your best.

Your outfit had survived the morning, despite a meeting with several Kaminoans who wanted updates on your progress. You had been able to deliver good news - that you were right on schedule - but a sense of doubt overshadowed any triumph you might have felt. The first deadline had been met, but the next one promised to step up the workload, and you were already feeling overwhelmed at the idea.

Still, you were determined to push the negativity out of your mind. You would figure out a better schedule to complete the work later. Today was a celebration.

The bad thing about taking more care with your appearance was that it attracted more attention than usual from the cadets. You had politely turned away two different groups of young men by the time Alpha was due to arrive in the cafeteria. Another cadet - alone, this time - was doing his best to keep from being dismissed as well.

"Was it raining when you came in, ma’am?" he asked, leaning over you. "I have flight drills after this and it gets even more dangerous in the rain."

You did your best not to smile at the obvious way he was hinting about being a pilot. "You know, I think it was raining the last time I was near a window," you told him, voice grave.

"Then I'm going to need some luck to survive," he said dramatically, flashing you a smile he clearly hoped would be charming. "I've heard a kiss from a beautiful woman is a good start. What do you think? It might help me survive the afternoon."

"I wouldn't count on it," a dark voice warned.

The cadet stood as straight as possible as Alpha approached. The captain brushed your new pilot friend aside with a twist of his armored shoulders and sat down. He proceeded to start eating, ignoring the cadet completely.

Any other cadet would have backed away, thankful that Alpha hadn't decided to throw them directly into the oceans of Kamino, but this one was more determined than most.

He winked at you from behind Alpha's head. "By the way, my name is-"

"She doesn't want to know your name," Alpha told him. "Get out of here before I decide that I want to know it."

"Very flattering, Captain," the cadet said cheekily. "But Jango's face isn't the one I want to wake up to, yeah?"

Alpha swallowed his mouthful of food and deliberately set his fork aside, standing slowly from the table. He drew up to his full height before turning around. He was taller than the cadet, forcing the younger man to look up.

"Now I'm extremely interested," Alpha said slowly, his slow and methodical voice dripping with menace. "What's your designation?"

Behind him, you winced. You hated how glaringly obvious it was that the Kaminoans considered these men products. Also, this cadet might die in front of you and that would almost certainly ruin your ability to eat in the cafeteria anymore.

"CT-7115," the cadet said with a grin.

"Ah, part of Zackra Trem's group." Alpha raised his comlink. "Trem."

"Alpha," a female voice returned immediately.

"I've got one of your pilot cadets here in the cafeteria. 7115."

"Broadside," Trem said, clearly recognizing the number. "He's one of my best, Alpha. Don't break him too badly."

"No promises," Alpha replied, turning slightly back toward Broadside. Since you were seated directly behind Alpha, you couldn't see his expression yourself, but it was enough to make Broadside's grin slip for the first time.

"I'll make you a deal," Trem offered. "I'll give him hell here and then send him back to you tonight. I'm sure he could help you demonstrate something unpleasant to your ARCs."

Alpha considered that for a long moment while Broadside shifted uncomfortably. Eventually, he conceded, "That works."

Trem laughed. "Do I even wanna know what he did to you?"

"Harassed an uninterested female."

The laughter emanating from the comlink's speakers cut off abruptly. "In that case, I think we should coordinate punishments. I'll be in touch, Captain."

The transmission cut off suddenly and Alpha looked at Broadside once more. "You had best get to your training, son."

Broadside, looking suddenly concerned, nodded and hurried away. “What was that?” you asked quietly when Alpha had sat down across from you once more.

“I told his superior officer about his behavior.”

“What more than that?” you pressed.

Alpha grinned suddenly, and it was half a snarl. “It just so happens that his superior officer is Zackra Trem. It’s not my story to tell, but she’s got more reason than most to hate that kind of osik behavior.”

You could very well guess the rest of that story. Your heart twisted for Trem, though you had never met her. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Nice, but she wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment,” Alpha told you, not unkindly. “Feel sorry for your little pilot. She’s a Weequay who ran with Mandalorians for the past few decades. Whatever she makes him do, it won’t be pleasant.”

You chuckled at that, trying not to actually feel sorry for Broadside. In the time you had been hanging around Alpha, most of the cadets had eased up a bit on flirting, but every now and then, someone crossed the line.

Alpha picked his fork up again and shot you an intense look. “Why are you dressed like that?”

Though your immediate instinct was to be embarrassed about being overdressed, even mildly, you rolled your eyes at him. “Anything looks like too much when everyone else wears uniforms all of the time. Remember that day I wore a necklace?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Alpha said, snorting. “A necklace. What are you, a Senator?”

“Your ideas of fancy clothing are extremely skewed, I hope you know that,” you told him, adjusting your collar again.

“Hazards of the job,” Alpha replied with a casual shrug as he returned his focus to his food. “Looks okay, though.”

You paused, staring openly at him. Had Alpha just complimented you? Surely not… The universe wouldn’t survive such unexpected behavior, not without signs that space was collapsing in on itself.

Alpha noticed you watching him and lifted an eyebrow in question while he chewed. You just shook your head and applied yourself to your own lunch, avoiding his curious eyes. Explaining your thought process there would be an intensive effort, especially if your goal was to keep him from being uncomfortable.

Fortunately, avoiding Alpha’s eyes let you notice the approaching cadet sooner than your companion did, and you had time to brace yourself before the young man - even younger than you were used to seeing - opened his mouth.

“Excuse me-”

“Kriff,” Alpha said loudly, dark brows crashing down over his eyes. “Go away, kid. I’ve already ruined one cadet’s day and I have no problem adding to the list. She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“N-no, sir, of course not,” the cadet told him, nodding respectfully at you as he went on. “I wanted to talk to you. Is it true you served with General Kenobi?”

"What?" Alpha asked, sounding uncertain for the first time since you had met him. You quirked your brows, unsure of whether to be amused or concerned.

"General Kenobi," the cadet repeated. "And General Skywalker, too! I heard you went on a mission with both of them. What was it like?"

"Look, kid, I don't have time to answer all your questions about Jedi-"

"That's fine!" the cadet told him. "I already know everything there is to know about the Jedi. I want to know more about your experience, specifically."

The muscles in Alpha's jaw flexed and you quickly interrupted. "What's your name?"

"Dogma, ma'am," the cadet told you, making an apologetic face. "I know names are against regulations, but my batchers won't stop calling me that. My designation is CT-4287."

“Nice to meet you, Dogma,” you said politely.

Dogma's cheeks darkened and he gave a tight nod. "You too, ma'am."

"Stop flirting with the poor boy," Alpha chided and you gaped at the captain. So much for trying to help him.

"Dogma, I'm sure Captain Alpha would love to answer any question you have," you told the young cadet, grinning triumphantly at Alpha.

"Wait," Alpha ordered, catching at your wrist before you could stand up. His hand was ridiculously huge and you found yourself shackled by his gentle grip. "You haven't finished eating."

You grinned wider at him, slipping your wrist out from between his fingers. "I'll take it with me. Have fun, you two!"

Dogma gave a half-hearted wave while Alpha glared.

---

The rest of the afternoon was spent locked away in your office, working on the second major project you had to complete. Your concerns about the deadline were unfortunately proving correct. The icy grip of stress and fear were squeezing your heart, and you were honestly relieved when someone knocked on the door of your office.

“One moment!” you called to the unseen visitor, but they didn’t seem to hear you. Instead, they continued to pound on the door until you opened it. You were unsurprised to see Alpha on the other side, glowering down at you.

“You’re mean for a nat-born,” he grumbled, brushing you aside as he pushed into the office.

After letting the door slide closed once more, you followed him over to your desk and plopped down in your chair. Rather than sit in one of the chairs opposite you, Alpha leaned his hip against the side of your desk, much closer than you were comfortable with.

In a show of belligerence, you crossed your arms and lifted your chin as you replied, “Serves you right for being rude about my outfit.”

“I didn’t say anything bad about your clothes!” Alpha denied, befuddled.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t say anything nice about them, either,” you argued childishly, conveniently forgetting his half-compliment at lunch.

Alpha frowned. “You want me to… talk about clothing with you?”

Well. Put that way, it did sound a little silly. Of all of the things you were sure Alpha did well, deep discussions about fashion might be beyond him. Honestly, they might be beyond you, too. You sighed. “No, I don’t want you to talk about clothing with me, but I was trying to look nice today. I put a lot of effort into this.”

“I don’t understand why,” Alpha said. “You look… fine… every other day.”

“Fine,” you repeated dryly. “Thanks, I was going for fine.”

“I don’t understand what I did wrong.” You were able to hear the growing frustration in his voice. “What do you want me to do?”

“Maybe don’t act like I’m wearing a ballgown to work if I show up wearing a necklace!”

“What is a ballgown?”

You stared at Alpha, the simple question making your brain screech to a halt. It was like a chasm had opened between you, and it made you reconsider a few things. Since you had arrived on Kamino, you had treated the clone troopers as if they were people you might meet out in the galaxy, but that wasn’t exactly true. You still believed that they were people - of course you did - but you were only just coming to realize how different they were from anyone you had ever met. While the troopers shared their own experiences on Kamino and had been trained to be perfect soldiers by the time they shipped out, they were startlingly young by the standards of the rest of the galaxy.

“You know what? It doesn’t matter.” You fiddled with one of the many datapads littering your desk rather than meet Alpha’s intense gaze. “I am sorry for siccing Dogma on you, though.”

“You should be,” he growled. “He asked ten questions before I could shake him off. Ten!”

“Wow, that’s what? Five days worth of questions?” you teased.

“Five days for you,” Alpha told you seriously. “For anyone else, that’s more than I would ever answer.”

You were unreasonably touched by the reminder that Alpha let you learn things about him that no one else would ever know. Moved by a sudden surge of warmth for the ARC captain, you repeated your prior sentiment, but more fervently. “In that case, I honestly apologize for unleashing Dogma. If there’s anything I can do to make him back off, please let me know.”

Alpha’s stare was level and unwavering. “Yeah?”

“Of course,” you agreed immediately, not understanding what a wildly stupid idea that was. That was fine - you would learn… and it didn’t take long.

That night at dinner, Alpha came in and sat across from you, but instead of starting the meal in silence, he leaned across the table slightly to get your attention. Lowly, he asked, “Are you still willing to help me with Dogma?”

“Yes,” you agreed simply. “Do you have a plan?”

“Yeah. Flirt with me.”

You fought not to react visibly to that. Carefully keeping your face blank and your voice flat, you replied, “What.”

He leaned even closer, eyes lit with excitement. “I’ve been threatening and trying to alienate Dogma all day, but the only time he was uncomfortable was when you flirted with him.”

“I didn’t flirt with him!” you reminded him. “I just said it was nice to meet him.”

“Fine,” Alpha conceded. “We’ll just have to do better than that if we’re going to convince him to leave me alone.”

Abruptly feeling like this was the worst idea anyone had ever had, you tried to speak in your own defense. “Alpha, I don’t think this is a good idea-”

“You said you would help me,” he reminded firmly. “He’ll be here in a minute. I need your answer.”

Your heart was pounding, one of many warnings that this was a bad idea, but you nodded anyway. Alpha smiled - he actually smiled - and the expression looked menacing on his face. “Good.”

In a moment, he had circled the table to sit beside you, his huge frame making you feel ridiculously tiny in comparison. He wasn't wearing any armor at all now, and you could feel the heat of his skin through what little space there was between you.

You tried not to obviously tense as he spoke next to your ear. "There he is, get ready."

Impossibly, Alpha managed to get closer to you, tugging behind your knee slightly so that you were angled toward him. When he had finished posing you, Alpha’s large hand lifted to cradle your face. His fingers brushed over your cheekbone before trailing down to your jaw.

"My little neverd," he murmured to you, face filled with affection.

You didn't have to feign embarrassment at the warmth in his tone matched with the intense eye contact he was giving you. When you replied, you tried not to sound squeaky but only managed to sound shaky instead. "You know Mando'a is my weakness."

He laughed, a low chuckle that sent delicious chills running over your skin. “Why do you think I use it?”

“Alpha…” you chided, managing to sound mildly flirtatious.

“Come on, little one,” he urged you, voice velvet in a way you hadn’t known it could be. “Let’s go back to your- Ah, one moment, neverd. Dogma, sit down.”

You looked over to see Dogma standing at the other side of the table. You had never even noticed, your entire focus narrowed down to Alpha. Dogma looked as embarrassed as you felt. While you were focused on Dogma, Alpha’s arm snaked around you, pressing against your waist to pull you flush against his side. Your face flamed and Dogma glanced away.

“Sir, I- I’m sorry, I forgot I’m on duty tonight,” Dogma muttered, speaking so quickly it was difficult to understand him.

“Sorry to hear that, cadet,” Alpha replied gravely, flexing his fingers against your side. It made you push a little closer to him in reflex, the tip of your nose brushing the space under his jaw as you tried to look up at him. Alpha shivered, and you weren’t sure how much of the motion was acting. “Maybe later.”

Dogma gave an awkward nod and hurried off.

Alpha started laughing even before he let you go, his muscular chest shaking against your shoulder. After a moment that felt like it had stretched an hour, he pulled his arm back and slid away a bit. You immediately felt the loss of his closeness and suddenly you were horribly uncertain of what expression you were wearing. Just in case it said more than you wanted it to, you looked back at the entrance of the cafeteria.

“I feel bad,” you admitted.

"Don't," Alpha advised, looking toward the door as well. “He’ll be fine. He’s a good soldier, just a little…”

He trailed off, apparently content to let his thought stay incomplete. You glanced over to him with an eyebrow raised, but his eyes were fixed on the door. “You can see every access point in the room from here.”

“That is why I chose this spot,” you agreed.

“Switch with me tomorrow.”

“Not a chance,” you refused. “This is my spot.”

“Then I hope you like sitting next to me,” Alpha told you. Surprised, you laughed up at him and he met your eyes. “You know, I’ve never seen anyone blush on cue.”

“Hidden talent,” you explained vaguely. Alpha didn’t seem convinced, so you changed the subject. “What does neverd mean?”

“Civilian.”

You laughed before you could stop yourself. “Civilian? That’s what you used as a term of endearment?”

Alpha blinked blankly at you. “What’s wrong with it? You are a civilian.”

“Yes, but,” you thought over it for a second, “-it’s not very romantic. Usually, people say things like ‘dear’ or ‘sweetheart’.”

“How should I have known that?” Alpha asked.

It was the ballgown situation all over again, and more than you were willing to tackle that day. “Well, some warning before you want me to go undercover would be helpful.”

Alpha snorted. “How much warning do you need?”

You pretended to consider that for a moment. “Two business days, minimum.”

He frowned fiercely. “If you get two full days of warning, I expect more. I need you to show up in a disguise with three different accents ready.”

“Harsh terms,” you told him with a smile. “With those negotiation skills, you’d make a great senator."

Alpha gave you the darkest scowl you had ever seen him muster. “Watch it, neverd.”

Idly, you wondered if Alpha would protect you from himself, but the amused glimmer in his dark eyes told you it would be unnecessary.

---

A/N - Pretty sure Broadside is wildly OOC, my bad. Also, sorry for the weird image for this chapter. I didn't really want the text bubbles in there, but I needed to keep Alpha's sassy hip lean.

Taglist - @imabeautifulbutterfly @cagrame @mysticalturtleenthusiast @marvel-starwars-nerd @lackofhonor

#star wars #star wars fic #star wars fanfiction #star wars the clone wars #prequel era #reader insert #alpha 17 #alpha 17 fic #alpha 17 x you #alpha 17 x reader #star wars reader insert #clone trooper dogma #dogma #captain alpha 17 #broadside #clone troopers deserve better #more to come #gar cabur #Gar Cabur

261 notes · View notes

falcqns · 4 years ago

Text

Over Again

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader, Sebastian Stan x Reader

Summary: Part two to To Be So Lonely. You work with Tom again, and is forced to face Henry.

Warnings:

A/N: Here’s part two! Hope you enjoy!

Said I'd never leave her

'Cause her hands fit like my t-shirt

Tongue-tied over three words, cursed

Running over thoughts that make my feet hurt

Bodies intertwined with her lips

The next few years with you and Sebastian went great. Both you and Sebastian had issued a statement discussing what had happened, as well as Henry. The media was all over it for a few weeks, but eventually, it died down. Henry was able to maintain his role on The Witcher, but you had heard that things between him and production were a little tense. He hadn’t made any more movies, and rarely appeared at public events, such as award shows. You felt bad for the way he was being treated, but Sebastian reassured you that its what he deserved.

You and Sebastian had gotten married, and had a 2 year old daughter named Lerae Georgeta Stan. You continued to work, doing big projects such as a few Marvel movies, and quite a few Tom Cruise movies. When Tom called you and asked if you wanted to be in the new Mission Impossible, you said yes. He had told you that Henry would be appearing well, but you insisted everything would be fine. Henry had seemed very remorseful the last few years, and you weren’t one to hold grudges. You’d have scenes with him, but Tom assured you there would always be another person in the scene with you at least.

Sebastian was happy for you, of course, but he was still nervous. You understood his nervousness, and when he asked if him and Lerae could come with you, you agreed. You hadn’t ever left your daughter, and you weren’t planning on it anytime soon. You didn’t want to be one of those ‘celebrity moms’ who never see their children.

You arrived in England a few weeks after getting the role, and you, Seb, and Lerae found an apartment which was close to the set, and planned to come to set whenever they could. Seb still wanted Lerae to experience a normal childhood, and explore London, so he planned on taking her out to do “Daddy - Daughter” activities in the city.

You had arrived on set the first day of shooting, without your husband and daughter. They were supposed to come, but Lerae threw a huge tantrum the night before out of pure exhaustion, so Sebastian decided it would be best to keep her home for the day, so you were on your own. You had worked with some of your co stars before, and the ones you hadn’t worked with, you had met previously. Working with Tom Cruise had its benefits. You didn’t see Henry, but everyone else was there.

Now she's feeling so low since she went solo

Hole in the middle of my heart like a polo

And it's no joke to me

So can we do it all over again?

Just as you were finishing up in Hair and Makeup, Henry walked through the door. Every one said hello to him, but you just gave him a nice smile, to which he didn’t return, his eyes averting to the ground. Everyone was finished a few minutes later, and then it was just you, Henry, and the hair and makeup artists. You were about to say hello to him, when your phone rang. You answered, and your heart dropped.

“I have to go back to the States today,” Sebastian said, and you heard him sniffle. Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“What? Why?” You asked.

He sighed before talking. “Apparently a good 20 minutes of footage is unusable because the files on the camera card corrupted, so I have to go back to reshoot. I’m so sorry.” Sebastian said, and you heard him breaking down over the phone, and your daughter asking why her daddy was crying.

“Sweetheart,” You said gently, and noticed Henry’s face get even sadder. “It’s okay. Bring Lerae here, and you head back. I can manage her on my own for a few days, okay?” You said, and Sebastian calmed down.

“O-Okay. I’ll bring her in about an hour.” He said, and you nodded.

“Sounds good. How long will you be gone?”

“Only about a week. I’m just feeling bad because we just got here,a dan now I have to leave you alone to parent in a whole new country while shooting a movie.” He explained, and you chuckle. “We’ll survive. We’ve had weeks alone before, dont worry, okay?”

“Okay.” Sebastian said. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay. Te iubesc,” You said.

“Și eu te iubesc,” He responded, and he hung up.

Your hair and makeup was finished soon after, and you headed out of the trailer. Henry’s eyes followed you out, but didn’t say anything. You walked over to Tom and explained the situation, to which he was very understanding.

Not too much later, Sebastian sent you a text saying he was here, and you walked over to meet him at the entrance to set. His eyes were still red and puffy, and Lerae was clinging to him for dear life, obviously afraid of the big burly security guards.

“Hi sweetie,” You said, and your daughter reached out for you. “Hi, Mama,” She said, before she pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Hi other sweetie,” You said as you turned to Sebastian, who smiled as well. “Hi baby,” he said. He gave you a sweet kiss, and handed you Lerae’s diaper bag. She was mostly potty trained, but did tend to have accidents sometimes, just like a normal two year old. Seb then wrapped his arms around you, and pulled you into his chest. Lerae giggled, and rested her head on his chest too.

“We’ll be okay, my love,” You whispered, and he nodded.

“I know. I just worry sometimes.” He said and you nodded. “It’s okay.”

He sniffled again and pulled you two closer. “I should go, or I’m going to miss my flight, but I’ll call you when I land, okay?” He promised, and drew your lips in for a kiss, which made Lerae gag. “Ew, Dada!” She exclaimed, hiding her face behind her Winter Soldier bear. Sebastian chuckled, and lifted her out of your arms.

“be good for mama, okay? Dada will be back on Sunday,” He said, and she nodded. “I pwomise Dada. I be good.” Sebastian smiled, and hugged her to his chest. He pressed kisses on her cheek, which she returned, and then she was handed back to you. The three of you said your goodbyes, and you two watched as Sebastian walked away.

“Okay, honey. We’re going to go to my trailer and play there until Mama has to go film.” You explained as she wiggled out of your embrace to walk on her own. “Otay Mama. I see Uncle Tom?” She asked, as she gripped your hand and you two made your journey to the trailers. “Yes honey, we can go see Uncle Tom in a little bit.” She nodded, and you watched as she gazed around at the buildings on set. She had been on set’s before, but she was always so interested. You and Sebastian had a suspicion that she is a star in the making.

You two passed the makeup trailer just as Henry was coming out, and you smiled at him. He gave you a sad smile in return and retreated to his trailer to wait to be called to set. You two walked inside your own trailer, and Lerae climbed up on the couch to take her shoes off.

The two of you were able to stay in the trailer for a few more hours, her colouring, and you rehearsing lines, before a PA knocked on your door and told you they needed you on set in 20 minutes. You got changed into your costume, and Lerae gasped as she saw what you were wearing. You had a yellow sundress with white flowers on it, with matching yellow ballet flats.

She scrambled up, and gave you a hug. “You so pwetty, Mama.” Your heart melted and you lifted up your little girl. “Thank you, baby. Let’s get out shoes on and head to set, okay? We get to see Uncle Tom!” Lerae giggled, and slid out of your grasp. She got her shoes on and gripped her “Bucky Bear” in her hands, and followed you out.

You were reminding her that when the cameras are rolling, she has to be quiet, and sit in your chair nicely, when she squealed. You looked up, and saw Henry. “Mama! Supaman!” She exclaimed, and your stomach flipped. “Yeah, baby, that is Superman. Maybe if you’re nice enough, he’ll say hi to you,” And she nodded with a determined look on her face.

Henry noticed you, and then his eyes drifted down to Lerae. He smiled, and gave her a wave. She then decided to take off running to go say hello to one of her favourite superhero’s. You followed after her, and smiled when Henry finally talked to you.

“Hi, Y/N,” He said, giving you a tentative smile.

“Hey. Listen, you don’t have to walk on eggshells around me. It’s been 3 years since then, and we’ve all moved on. I’m sorry for what my friends did to your career. I never wanted that to happen.” You said, and he smiled warmly.

“Thanks. And, you don’t have to apologize. What I did was horrible, and I deserved what happened. I don’t blame you, or anyone. I was actually hoping to a police to Sebastian about what happened, but I guess he left,” He said, glancing down at your daughter who had her face smushed against his leg, and gazing around the room.

“He’ll be back Sunday. He feels really bad too, so I think you two talking it out is the best thing.” Henry nodded, just before Tom came up and scooped up his niece.

“Hey, you two. We’re about to start. I’ll watch her.” He mentioned, while tickling her belly, and you thanked him, before moving to start filming.

If you're pretending from the start

Like this with a tight grip

Then my kiss can mend your broken heart

I might miss everything you said to me

The rest of the week went well, with Lerae glued to Henry. You two hadn’t had a moment alone to actually talk, but Michelle and Rebecca came into your trailer and insisted that they could watch your daughter so you could go talk to him.

You knocked on his trailer door, and heard a faint ‘come in!’, so you entered. He smiled at you as he was petting Kal, who ran up to you.

“I was hoping to actually talk to you about what happened.” You said and Henry nodded. “Me too.”

You sat down on the couch, and pet Kal, while Henry sat next to you. You took a deep breath before speaking. “I’m really sorry. If I had known how you were feeling, I wouldn’t have mentioned it, or at least brought it up in a different way. And I definitely wouldn’t have talked about him as much as I did. I was just in love, and wanted to tell everyone about him,” You said and Henry nodded.’

“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. I guess I built up how our first meeting would go in my head, and then I got angry when it went in a completely different way. Sebastian told me how excited you were to work with me, and on The Witcher, and I instantly felt bad. I wanted to come and apologize but you were gone, and the damage was already done.” He said, his eyes down cast.

You scrunched up your eyebrows. “How bad was it after?” You asked.

Henry looked up at you. “I got screamed at. By everyone. Anya, Freya, Joey, Lauren, and Director, everyone. Anya, Freya and Joey didn’t talk to me for a god two months afterwards, and everyone else was extremely harsh on me. My agent and manager said they had never seen someone act the way I did, and that they were considering dropping me. Thankfully, they didn’t, but it was very tense for a while. I’ve never seen my parents more angry at me. I honestly thought they were going to disown me. Once I had made my statement, I couldn’t find work. Until this movie, I was relying solely on The Witcher for income. Which, is okay while were filming, but the cheques aren’t as big after filming wraps. I thought for sure that I’d lose this role too when you found out, but I’m very thankful that I didn’t.”

You smiled sadly. “I don’t hold grudges. You’ve changed, I’ve changed, and everyone’s moved on. We’re all good. And don’t worry too much about talking to Sebastian. Knowing him, he’s going to try to apologize for getting me first,” You joked, and Henry laughed.

“You two seem happy. Sometimes I wonder if we could have been that happy,” he remarked sadly, and you nodded.

“Maybe in another life. But, we’ll never know.” You said, and Henry smiled.

“I’m just happy that we can be friends,” He said. “You’re daughter seems amazing. What’s her name?” He asked, as he gazed out the window where she was playing tag with Rebecca and Michelle.

“Her name’s Lerae. It means ‘strong and brave’, which she is. She was born two months premature, and she fought like hell the entire time.” You explained, your eyes drifting to her. She was running around, her blue eyes reflecting off the sun. You could see so much of Sebastian in her.

“She’s the real superhero. Not me,” Henry said and you chuckled.

“Sebastian says the same thing.”

You'll never know how to make it on your own

And you'll never show weakness for letting go

I guess it's still hard if the seed's sown

But, do you really want to be alone?

The film went smoothly after that. Sebastian arrived on Sunday, and him and Henry had a good talk, which resulted in them making plans to go to a Rugby game with some of Henry’s friends. After that game, they became really good friends. Chris and Anthony forgave him as well, and the four of them were great friends.

Lerae loved her Uncle Henry, and she loved Kal. Her daddy may be a Marvel hero, but she always had a soft spot for Superman. Henry remained involved in her life. He came to every birthday party, every dance recital, and eventually every movie premier when she grew up. He got her her first acting job at the age of 7, on The Witcher. After that, she was hooked.

You and Sebastian stayed together through everything. You gave him a son, named James Anthony Stan, when Lerae was 4. The two were inseparable, much like you and Sebastian.

Even though you and Henry remained friends, he always loved you. You’d notice it sometimes, wether it be in the way he looked at you when he thought you didn’t notice him looking, or the way he treated your children. Sometimes it wasn’t as noticeable, and you’d think it faded, but then you’d catch his eye in the right light and you saw it again.

The love.

If you're pretending from the start

Like this with a tight grip

Then my kiss can mend your broken heart

I might miss everything you said to me

And I can lend you broken parts

That might fit like this

And I will give you all my heart

So we can start it all over again

#henry cavill #henry cavill smut #henry!holmes #fluff #august walker #chris evans #mission impossible #geralt of rivia #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan man you lookin good #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #marvel #tom cruise

194 notes · View notes

saltnpepperbunny · 3 years ago

Photo

Was feeling really nostalgic for FYR today, so I drew Cedar and Nauki! It’s missing Team Hearth hours. So, this is something I've been keeping on the low down for a long time, because I figured that if I admitted it, people would take it the wrong way and start worrying about things they don't need to worry about. But it's actually been many months since I've worked properly on Finding Your Roots. I think the last time I was drawing FYR pages regularly was maybe, April? I've done a couple of pages here and there since then, but for the most part, I've made pretty miniscule progress on the comic for most of 2021. Even though I have REALLY GOOD REASONS for putting FYR on hold rn, it's still pretty disappointing to not work on my main comic for so long. I took a break from comicking from about mid April to mid May due to health issues, and since I got started again, I've been working almost exclusively on The Things We Have. I am soooooooooo close to finishing TTWH, guys. It's INCREDIBLY EXCITING! I started drawing Part II of the comic in May when I got back to comicking, and I've been outputting almost a page a day in order to finish the comic as soon as possible. I'm now at the point where I have less than 30 pages to draw, and then TTWH is complete! It'll still be a long time before you folks will see the end of that comic, because I upload pages a lot slower than I finish them and we have a huge backlog to get through, but I'm really close to seeing the end of that project. It's really exciting. Things are pretty exciting for me right now. I have one comic that's close to completion, I have another new one that I'm about to start releasing alongside my friend @zeropro, and FYR is about to start uploading again in August! Thankfully, even though I've made very little progress on FYR in recent times, I have over 30 pages of Chapter 7 completed, so I at least am not at risk of running out of backlog. ^^ But I'm mainly just excited to finally put TTWH to bed and get back to properly working on FYR. FYR, after all, is my baby, and it's the project I love the most above all. Because, wow guys, TTWH is draining. :'D Don't get me wrong, I really love working on that project too and it's very important to me, but holy shit kjdsfhjkfgfg. There's only so much rabbit suffering a girl can take! It's a very dark, sad story, and it was always intended to be a sad, dark story. There's no real happiness in it until it's final pages. I'm using this comic to process a lot of internal pain, so it's good to try to feel these feelings. But wow, I am just, so tired of misery. These aren't really good times for me right now. TTWH is a reflection of that, and I'm hoping that when I complete the comic and move on from it, I can put those feelings to rest as well. FYR, on the other hand, has always been about healing! Positivity! TTWH is not a healing narrative, but FYR absolutely is, and those are the sorts of vibes I'm looking forward to indulging in! I just wanna draw my Team Hearth babies being all smiley and cute together, and get back to drawing some adorable pokemon instead of just rabbits, rabbits, rabbits, rabbits, MORE RABBITS! I want FYR back! I'm so excited to work on it again! Either way though, I think it was a good choice for me to focus on finishing TTWH and getting it out of the way. It'll allow me to give FYR my fullest attention, and I'll have to worry about juggling two projects for a lot less time. If I hadn't put FYR on hold, TTWH probably would have taken well into autumn to finish, which isn't fun. I'll admit the reason I never mentioned this going on is because I was worried that if people knew I wasn't working on FYR anymore, they would get scared that I'm not gonna work on FYR ever again, which is def not the case!!! So don't worry, y'all. Give me like one more month to finish TTWH, and I'll start drawing up lots of FYR pages for you. ;3c I love it when a month ends and a new one begins! It's like a reset, a breath of fresh air. I'm excited for August, and beyond. I'm excited to still be here, no matter what.

- SPB

#spb's art #spb's comics #finding your roots comic #pokemon #marshtomp #trapinch

52 notes · View notes

mellowswriting · 4 years ago

Note

Hey I saw your requests are open! I love the quarantine series! I’ve been on a Marcus pike kick lately and I’ve been super stressed about college and my work load trying to graduate😩 I’d love to hear your interpretation of Marcus when his girl is going through this cause you know he’s 💕that guy💕 - how he’d help you relax and everything... maybe even some smut if you’re feeling up to it 👀

Take a Break

pairing || Marcus Pike x Fem!Reader

summary || Marcus helps you relax after college stress

word count || 2,369

warnings || Explicit Sexual Content (fingering, praise kink, soft dom!Marcus, allusions to p in v sex), stressed out reader, Marcus to the rescue, domestic fluff, ‘good girl’, no use of y/n

a/n || As a college student who is also ready to explode from school stress, this was cathartic as hell to write. I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist | Join the taglist!

Your cursor hovered over the submit button. This research paper had been the center of your academic focus for nearly three months and had taken up the majority of your energy for far too long. Once that damn paper was submitted, you could breathe easy for a while and not have to see statistics and graphs in your sleep anymore. So you took a deep breath and hit the button, relishing in the relief that washed over you - for approximately three seconds.

There were still assignments to be worked on, textbook chapters to read and take notes on, and you just wanted to throw your laptop into the ocean instead. Fuck it all. In that moment, all of your progress and hard work and the finish line that was so damn close really didn’t seem to matter. You would rather hide under your blankets for the last month of the semester than even think about philosophy notes or biology tests.

But you couldn’t.

There was no way in hell you were going to let the last two years of hard work and a solid grade point average go down the drain, especially when you had a summer well on its way where you could relish in not having academic responsibilities. You rubbed a hand down your face with a frustrated sigh and put your textbook down on your desk - maybe just a bit harder than necessary, because the door creaked open a few moments later.

“How’s the paper going, honey?” Oh, Marcus. Your sweet, sweet Marus, who’s words were already making tears of frustration prick your eyes.

“It’s finished. I just turned it in.” You said, your voice devoid of the usual pride that followed a well-written assignment, and flipped open the book in front of you.

Marcus’s hands fell to your shoulders as he stood behind your chair and started rubbing, those strong fingers working the tension from your muscles. “What are you doing then?”

“I still have a ton of shit that needs to get done. Notes and a ton of reading, and I have to study -” You cut yourself off with a heaved breath. The stress was getting to you, you could recognize that, but it wasn’t enough to overpower the anxiety of impending deadlines, even if you still had plenty of time and wiggle room to get them finished.

Marcus paused. It wasn’t the first time he had seen you like this, and he wasn’t about to discount what you were feeling by telling you to relax or something else equally as stupid. “Okay, how about you come have lunch with me? You need a break. You can’t be productive when you’re burnt out. Maybe we can talk it out, help you come up with a plan.”

It took a moment for you to convince yourself that it was okay to leave your desk, to focus on something that wasn’t your classes for a little bit. When you nodded, Marcus smiled at you bright enough to melt some of the frustration. Unbeknownst to you, he had a little something planned.

If there was anything true in the world, it was that Marcus Pike was the best man the world had ever seen. The stress you were feeling had been building up for the past week, growing heavier with each moment that it went unchecked, and he could tell. It was obvious in the way you held yourself, in the way that all the sleep in the world didn’t help the tired look in your eyes. He knew he could do nothing to help with the actual classwork itself, but he could do whatever it took to ease the stress.

So the moment you essentially chained yourself to your desk, Marcus set about with his plan. First, he tackled the housework. He cleaned the kitchen and living room until they were spotless, grateful that your headphones blocked out the sound of the vacuum and kept his little project a secret. Then he cooked up your favorite meal and lit your candles in the living room, leaving the space warm and homey.

The surprise on your face was worth all of the effort. You buried your face in his shirt to hide the tears of appreciation that sprung into your eyes, your fingers fisted in the fabric as you tried not to full on cry at his sweet gesture. You sniffled a quiet laugh before you wiped the wetness away from your face.

“God, what would I do without you?” You pulled him close for a kiss, one he reciprocated eagerly. Those big, warm hands of his settled on your cheeks, thumbs rubbing sweet little circles against your cheekbones.

“I find myself asking the same thing everyday I get to wake up next to your pretty face.” He whispered against your lips and gave you one last kiss before he guided you to sit on the couch with your soft throw blanket tucked around your shoulders.

“Marcus… you didn’t have to do all this…” You murmured as he handed you a plate and settled in next to you with his own.

“Of course I did,” He rubbed a soothing hand up and down your calf. “Besides, this isn’t even everything.”

You captured his hand in your own. “I love you so, so much.”

“I love you, too.” Marcus chirped with a smile, lifting your joined hands to kiss your knuckles. “Now eat up, you need your energy.”

Never in your life had you felt more appreciated, more taken care of, and apparently this wasn’t all he had planned. He finished eating before you - you swear, that man practically inhales food - and he drew your feet into his lap to gently massage the arches. It didn’t take him long to ease the stress of the looming workload. Somehow, he always managed to find the perfect words to remind you just how capable you are and that you were on the right track.

You set your plate down on the coffee table and slid closer to Marcus’s side, all too ready to curl up with your lover and spend the rest of the day soaking in the bliss that flowed from him, but he was quick to stand and urge you to your feet. The moment of confusion dissipated when he led you to the bathroom, where he had laid out the makings of your favorite stress reliever - a bubble bath.

“Oh, Marcus.” You sighed as he began filling the huge tub, already stripping out of your clothes in excitement. “You better get in there with me.”

“But this is supposed to be about you, not me.” Marcus said with a small shrug.

“I’ll enjoy it even more if I have my man with me,” You purred, stepping into his space in only your bra and underwear to press a lingering kiss to his lips. The surprised hum he gave you made a little thrill fly through you. “Please, baby?”

“Anything for you.” Marcus smiled as he reached around to undo your bra and pull the straps down your arms, moving on to curl his fingers under the hem of your underwear and tug them down as well. He kissed your thigh when you moved to step out of them.

Marcus yanked his clothes off with no flair and stepped into the steaming bath, settling into the water so quickly that it damn near sloshed over the sides of the tub. He reached for you and you couldn’t help but smile. It was precious, the way he guided you into his lap amidst the bubbles and pulled you close against his chest.

Little kisses were peppered along your shoulder and up your neck, the heat already working at your sore back. Marcus’s hands slid up your belly, cupped beneath your breast to hold you close, and the combination of his presence with the heat and soft floral scent of the bubbles had your worries slipping into the background.

“I missed this.” You murmured as you melted against him, your head lolled back on his shoulder. It had been far too long since you felt peace like that. Marcus’s fingers rubbed soft patterns into your skin and you were in heaven.

“Me too,” He kissed your temple and you could feel the smile on his lips.

“Thank you, Marcus.” You looked up at him. He seemed just as relaxed as you felt, his head tilted back against the edge of the tub, eyes closed. “You make me feel sane in the midst of all this stress. I don’t know what I would do without your support. You’re such a good man.”

Marcus whined low in his throat. Your praise always did something to him, lit a fire in his belly and made him want to squirm with happiness. All he ever wanted was to make you happy, make you feel as cherished and loved as he possibly could, at least as much as you made him feel. Normally he was good with his words. He could wax poetic about how much he loved you and how he was the luckiest man alive with you by his side, but your sweetness left him dumbstruck.

Since his mouth couldn’t form the words he wanted to say, he used it to lavish your bare skin with kisses as he rubbed at your tense muscles, your skin slick with the soapy water. He could feel the small moan he worked from your body and smirked - he absolutely lived for those little sounds, the ones that told him he was making you feel relaxed and happy. Your hands slipped down his thighs that bracketed your body and began mimicking the circles he massaged you with.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one helping you relax, sweetheart?” Marcus teased despite the way his cock was slowly hardening at the small of your back, only provoked further by the light drag of your nails along his thighs.

“Can you think of a better way to relax?” You teased right back as you arched back slightly to grind against him, using your hands on his thighs to support yourself. Marcus inhaled sharply and you could feel the subtle way his hips pressed up to meet your movements. Need began to build low in your belly.

“Are you sure?” Marcus rasped and at your nod, his hands slipped around to your front, one hand settling low between your hips to firmly hold you against him, the other trailing down to cup your sex. Your low gasp made him hum, a dark tone that you recognized from those moments he took you apart piece by piece in the comfort of your bed. “Are you feeling needy, baby?”

“Always need you.” You spread your thighs, bracing your feet between the sides of the tub and his legs to support your desperate little grinds against his fingers. His middle finger curled to glide up to your clit but he didn’t give you the friction you craved, that damn tease. “C’mon, make me feel good. Please?”

The desperate quality your voice had taken on was enough to make Marcus moan against your neck, his tongue shooting out to wet his lips before he whispered in your ear. “I’m gonna make you come before I get you in that bed. A little reward for all your hard work, hm?”

Before you could even whine out your need for his promised reward, he finally began moving his finger against your clit and pleasure flooded you, leaving you to meet his movements with little circles of your waist. Marcus would usually tease you at least a little before delving in and drowning you in pleasure until your legs were shaking and your mind was left blank, but he seemed to be in a giving mood after all of your efforts. Every pass of his fingers over your clit had that tension pull tighter, your pussy tightening around nothing. You ached for something to fill you, his fingers, his cock, you didn’t care. The relief of pleasure after so much stress had your release building faster than you were used to, and your hands fumbled for purchase to keep you grounded to reality as Marcus worked you closer and closer to orgasm.

One hand clutched at his wrist, desperate to keep him right where you had him, and the other found itself buried in Marcus’s hair. He angled his head to give your better access, letting you grab at him to be your anchor, kissing up your neck and placing his lips right at your ear.

“Good girl,” He rumbled, chuckling at your sweet little gasp. “Such a good girl for me. You gonna cum all over my fingers, aren’t you? Yeah, you are. That's it.”

“Oh god, Marcus…” You gasp in that pleading tone that made something possessive bloom in his belly and he redoubled his efforts, taking your earlobe between his teeth and tugging slightly. “Fuck!”

Water sloshed over the sides of the tub with the intense way you jerked against him, your orgasm cracking through you like a sharp flash of lightning, arcing and splintering up your spine and leaving you wrapped in a warm haze. You trembled against his chest, your legs snapping closed around his hand as he slowed his movements until his fingers were completely still. The warm water eased you even further into that sweet headspace of your afterglow, made more sweet by the kisses and praise your lover pressed into your skin.

“You still with me?” Marcus murmured and you looked up at him with that dazed look he absolutely adored. At the sight of your pursed lips, he leaned down and kissed you, slow and languid as he let you find yourself again. Wandering hands helped ease you back down to earth, his strong hands working at your already loose muscles. “You did so good, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.”

You whined quietly at his praise, curling closer for more kisses and affection, only to whine again when he pulled away. “Please?”

Marcus chuckled. “Fine, but I’m getting you in that bed in a few minutes. I’m gonna fuck you so hard you forget your own name.”

{Taglist}

@iamburdened @everyhowlmarksthedead @jenrebloggingfics @xserenax-13 @silverstarsandsuns @luminescentlily @peterpstuff @leonieb @lazybeeches @withasideofmeg @freeshavocadoooo @chattychell @ew-erin @i-ship-it-ironically @artsymaddie @mrsparknuts @wyn-dixie @notabotiswear @lunaserenade @jitterbugs927 @theorganasolo @the-witty-pen-name @northernpunk @lemonlime09 @la-lunaluna @andruxx @greeneyedblondie44 @bloodsuckingbastards @coldlilheart @gracie7209 @green-socks @paintballkid711 @lord-of-restingbiface @asta-lily @sarahjkl82-blog @a-skov @himbotroy @marvelousmermaid

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike fanfiction

144 notes · View notes

mayraki · 4 years ago

Text

“Stuck with you”

drew starkey x reader

summary: after spending quarentine locked up and doing the same thing every day, Drew decides to change things up.

note: I wrote this while listening ‘stuck with you’ by ariana and justin on REPEAT. so, if you want, do the same and enjoy some Drew fluff because he deserves way more recognition. and this is dedicated to @peachy-jj, because you wanted this ✨ but with a little twist! Also, while I was writing this it remained me of Jenna and Julien doing cooking videos. They are the reason I believe soulmates exists🥺

MASTERLIST

Now the days seemed like they lasted more than 24 hours. Sometimes minutes felt like hours, and it also seemed like your teachers got a sudden inspiration, because the amount of projects and essays they were sending you on a day were more than you did in a week on normal circumstances.

You now were, like any other day, working on some essay you had to submit in a couple of hours. You were half in and you felt your brain asking for a break, but you wanted to finish this and get over it as soon as possible.

You took the last sip of coffe you had on your cup and made your fingers go back to the keyboard of your computer.

When you heard a door opening, Drew came into the living room of your apartment and you locked eyes with him. He had messy hair and you noticed he was still in his pijamas. He looked more cute than ever.

“I think I’m gonna lose my mind.” He said while stretching. “I’ve seen like an entire season of Criminal Minds in a day. The next time I’m hearing a noise, I’m going to think is a serial killer.” You let out a little laugh and Drew walked behind you. “What you doing?” He let his head rest in your shoulder and wrapped his arms around you with a little smile.

“Doing an essay.” Your fingers were writing faster and it felt like you couldn’t stop.

“You’ve been doing this since this morning. You need a break, baby.” He said giving you a kiss on the neck and you shook your head.

“No, I need to finish this.” You said without breaking eye contact with the screen. “Besides, taking a break doing what? sitting down and doing nothing? If I do that again, I’m actually going to lose my mind and I’m going to be the serial killer you’re going to be worrying about.” You said jokingly and Drew let out a little laugh against your neck.

“Maybe... I have an idea.” He deepened the kiss on your neck and you tried to hold on a smile that was trying to come out.

“Drew, stop.” You stopped writing for the first time and touched his cheek. “Stop.” You said with a smile and then he moved to your cheek. “I love you. But I need to finish this.”

“Alright, I’m going to leave you alone before you kill me and no one can find my body.” He said and after giving another kiss on the neck, he walked towards the kitchen.

After what felt like years, your finally wrote the last word of the essay, and you submitted it without looking back. Drew was right, you needed a break. So you let your back rest on the back of the chair and closed your eyes trying to let your body relax, but then your heard a noise coming from the kitchen.

“I thought I was supposed to be the serial killer who made strange noises around the apartment.” You said when you walked into the kitchen and saw Drew kneeled down looking for something.

“Did you finish?” He asked once he got up after finding some weird looking pan.

“Yeah, seconds ago.” You said nodding and then you walked confused to where Drew was. He was reading something from his phone and he had layed down different things on the counter of the kitchen. Like eggs, milk, the water bottle, and multiple types of kitchen utensils. “What are you doing?”

“Making pancakes!” He said excited with a smile on his face and you let out little laugh because he looked extremely cute.

“Since when are you a chef?” You asked him and he just shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m not. That’s why I need you because I know I’m probably going to burn them.” You shook your head with a little smile on your face.

“This is going to be interesting.” You said and then started to read the recipe.

“Hey, watch me crack this egg with one hand.” Drew said while you were making the mix.

“No, stop. You’re going to get it all over the mix!” You said but it was too late, the egg was already broken and some pieces were on the mix, like you suspected.

“It’s nothing! See?” Drew said while getting the pieces out of the bowl. “Easy.”

“Not as easy as doing it with two hands!” You said but couldn’t help and let out a laugh.

“Drew! It says three cups of milk.” You said when you noticed he was grabbing one his huge cups.

“Yeah, this is a cup!” He lifted the one he had on his hand and looked at it confused.

“No, that’s like six cups.”

It took him a second to respond because he was still looking at the cup. “But it’s a cup!”

You face palmed yourself and walked over to the shelf, grabbing a smaller cup.

“They look great!” Drew said once the pancakes were finished. “Did we do great or what?”

“Uh, we?” You lifted an eyebrow and he just let his arm around your shoulders.

“I did some stuff!” He said defending himself.

“Yeah, baby. You did.” You let out a little laugh.

“I was here for moral support. It worked! Look!” He pointed at the pancakes and you had to be honest, they looked delicious. “I can’t wait to try them.” You nodded and Drew positioned himself behind you. He wrapped his arms around your chest and he gave you a little kiss on the cheek. “I’m proud of our babies.” He said jokingly and you let out a little laugh shaking your head.

“Maybe we can watch a movie while we eat them.” You said and Drew nodded. “But we have to wait a little bit, they’re too hot.”

“Well... I know what we can do in the mid time.” His lips went to your neck and he placed little kisses.

“Oh, you do?” You said moving your head to the other side so Drew would had more space on your neck. He nodded on your neck and you turned to face him. “Are you really up for it?” You said wrapping your arms around his neck and he grabbed your waist pulling your closer to him.

“More than anything.” He said and when he was about to kiss you, you stopped him by putting your hand on his chest.

“And you wouldn’t change it for the world?” You asked and he shook his head with a little smirk on his face. He couldn’t keep his eyes away from your lips. “Alright!” You said and took a step backwards. “You’ll clean the kitchen and I’ll prepare the movie!” You gave him a kiss on the cheek and he stood there confused.

“What? That’s not what-”

“Too late! Love yoooou.”

You let out a little laugh and waited for him to start cleaning the kitchen, when you returned and whispered in his ear “I’m just leaving the best for last.” You kissed his neck and you left the kitchen once again, leaving the poor boy with wild thoughts and a little smirk on his face.

#im in my feels right now #how i want to spend my quarentine #drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x y/n #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks netflix #outer banks imagine #outer banks #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #obx netflix #obx

984 notes · View notes

suituuup · 4 years ago

Photo

pieces - chapter three

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca sees her again in the most unexpected place.

rated: E for drug use and sex scenes

AO3 LINK

“Bec?”

Beca hummed absentmindedly, blinking out of her daze and twisting her head in the direction of the voice.

Sarah smiled gently as she leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen. She cocked an eyebrow, giving a pointed look towards the sink. “I think the pan is clean.”

Beca glanced down, stilling her movements. She had been scrubbing that pan for probably ten minutes now, her thoughts completely consumed by Chloe and what she was supposed to do next.

Chloe clearly didn’t want to see her, and Beca wasn’t going to wait by the phone when it was clear that Chloe was far from okay. She was thinner than Beca remembered, and the look in her eye, the lack of light in those once bright blues, chilled Beca to the bone.

She looked… broken. As though her spirit had repeatedly been battered until all that was left were mere pieces of her old self.

If there were any left at all.

Beca couldn’t stand the thought of not doing anything, and she needed to come up with a plan to help Chloe without driving her into a corner and risk losing her forever.

“What’s going on?” Sarah questioned, pushing off the doorframe and padding over. She rested her hand between Beca’s shoulder blades, her eyebrows knitted together in concern. “You’ve seemed off today.”

Beca released a sigh, setting the pan down into the sink and reaching for the dishtowel laying next to her on the counter to dry her hands. “I’m sorry, I’m just… worried about a friend.”

Sarah nodded slowly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Sarah was unexpected, to say the least. Beca was a workaholic, and her career was too time-consuming for her to get into the whole dating thing. But Sarah, who happened to work as a barista in Beca’s favorite independent coffee shop, had somehow managed to convince Beca to go out with her. One dinner surprisingly turned into a second date, then a third, and it just like that, it had been almost a year since they officially got together.

Sarah was gentle, patient, understanding, overflowing with positivity, but most of all, incredibly kind. She reminded Beca of Chloe, sometimes. And maybe it was those similar personality traits that drew Beca to her in the first place.

They didn’t live together. Beca could feel that it was the next expected step on her girlfriend’s end, but she didn’t feel ready to commit, yet. She liked her own space, her solitude. So Sarah spent a few nights a week at Beca’s place, like tonight, and Beca was fine with that.

“Not really,” she replied, casting Sarah an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, it’s just-- complicated right now.”

“You need to stop apologizing,” Sarah murmured, her expression soft and loving. Beca let her shoulders sag, ready to apologize again. “I understand. But if you do change your mind and need to let something off your chest, I’m here.”

Beca nodded. “Thanks.”

“Are you coming to bed?”

“Not yet, I wanna get some work done, first.” She leaned in to peck Sarah’s lips. “You go ahead, I’ll join you soon.”

Walking across the living room and past the huge floor to ceiling windows looking over Central Park, Beca made her way to her home office, her happy place. She had bought the Manhattan condo two years ago, making it a requirement during her house-hunt to have a large room with plenty of light and enough space to store all her records and her music equipment. It was also where she kept her Grammys and other prizes, away from the attention as nobody really stepped into her office.

She usually popped a blues album on the record player, enjoying the soothing instrumentals while she replied to various emails, but not tonight. Tonight, she grabbed a yellow legal notepad and her headphones from her desk and curled up on the leather couch tucked in the far corner, then scrolled to her Spotify playlists until she found the one she was looking for.

she is magic

Beca couldn’t remember the last time she had listened to her Chloe playlist, one she had made back in Barden when she was hopelessly in love with her best friend. They were songs that reminded her of Chloe, or songs that Chloe liked. Or used to like, at least.

As lyrics she knew so well poured into her headphones, blocking out the rest of the world, different ones flowed out of Beca’s heart, materializing on the paper in front of her in black ink as she scribbled across the page. Lyrics about friendship, unrequited love, and regrets for listening to her brain and not her heart all these years ago.

It was pushing on two am by the time Beca called it a night. Her eyes burned, her mind felt mushy, but her soul felt a tiny bit lighter. Music had always been her therapy, and writing songs had always proved more efficient than paying a licensed professional, even though it had been years since Beca had last finished one, for lack of inspiration.

Or rather, because of the absence of her muse.

She woke up five hours later to a stiff neck and sore back, the bright sunlight pouring in from the windows lining one of her office walls drawing her from her sleep. She had meant to go to bed, before deciding to close her eyes for five minutes right on the couch.

Straightening with a groan, she grabbed her phone and turned it over, hoping to see a text from an unknown number on her screen.

Aubrey Posen [6:23am]

Any news?

Aubrey Posen [6:37am]

Should I come to New York?

Aubrey practiced family law up in Boston. She and Beca saw each other a few times a year, whenever Aubrey was in the city. Bella reunions were a bit more scarce now, with the girls being scattered all around the country. Their last one dated back to a year and a half ago, on the Fourth of July.

Beca ran a hand over her face and heaved out a sigh, swiping her thumb across the screen to unlock it.

Beca [7:16am]

No news yet. I think I’m gonna wait a few days before I head back to the club, if she doesn’t call in the meantime that is. The manager gave me serious sleazy vibes and I’m sure he could blacklist me if I’m too insistent. I don’t think there’s any need for you to come down for now. I’ll keep you posted.

Hitting send, Beca pushed to her feet and shuffled out of her office, hanging a left down the hall towards the kitchen. A note next to her coffee thermos sat on the island.

Missed you last night, but I hope you got whatever you needed done. I had to leave for my shift, you’re welcome to swing by for your second coffee of the day and your morning kiss ;) have a good day!

Sarah xx

Guilt swooped in over picking old feelings about an ex-almost over her girlfriend, and Beca let her head hang forward, releasing a grown. She was far from an expert at this relationship thing, but she cared about Sarah a lot and didn’t want to mess that up.

Beca shook off the sleepiness lingering in her bones and the stiffness in her muscles with a long, hot shower, then got ready for her day. She usually got to the office at 8 sharp, but it was already 7:54 by the time she was out the door, and her commute lasted about twenty minutes, so she wouldn’t get the chance to stop by Sarah’s workplace.

To: Sarah

I’m sorry, I got caught up in work last night and ended up falling asleep on the couch around 2. Come over tonight? I’ll cook dinner. Have a good shift.

Her morning was spent in the studio canning vocals for girl in red’s new album, a project Beca was stocked about as she was BMLJ’s most promising artist for this year’s Grammy Awards.

“That was awesome, Marie,” Beca spoke into the microphone, giving her a thumbs-up through the glass. “Let’s take a lunch break and resume in an hour?”

“Sounds good,” the younger woman agreed with a smile as she took off her headphones.

Beca headed back to her office down the hall and checked her phone for any new messages (finding none important), before shrugging on her thick winter coat and screwing her beanie over her head.

“I’ll be back in an hour, Gina!” She told her assistant on route to the elevator.

As Sarah’s workplace was just five blocks south from the label, Beca figured she would eat lunch there as she wasn’t able to stop by that morning. She stopped in the convenience store across the street from the coffee shop to buy Sarah her favorite magazine as she knew her break was coming up soon and she’d have something to read.

Beca was scanning the press stand for that specific magazine, not paying attention to the person walking into the store until they spoke.

“A pack of Marlboro, please.”

Beca would recognize that voice anywhere. Her head snapped up so fast she felt something in her neck pull, and she was rounding the stand before she even registered giving her feet the order to move. “Chloe?”

Chloe glanced over to her right and froze for a second, before fishing for a twenty in her jacket pocket and handing it to the cashier. “Are you following me or something?”

Given their last encounter, Beca wasn’t surprised by Chloe’s snark, so she gave as good as she got. “You came in after I did, so maybe I should ask you that question.”

Chloe stuffed the cigarette pack and the change into her pocket. “What do you want, Beca?”

“To talk,” she replied, softly. “One coffee, that’s it. And if you decide you really don’t want me in your life, then I won’t bother you again. I promise.”

Chloe seemed to ponder on that for a few beats. “One coffee.”

“There’s a shop right across the street.”

Taking her to the place her girlfriend worked at? Probably not the brightest idea, but she was afraid Chloe might go back on her decision if they spent too long finding someplace else.

When Chloe nodded, Beca took the lead and stepped outside, forgetting all about that magazine as she racked her brain about what she should say. Tactfulness wasn’t her greatest suit; Aubrey would be so much better at this.

They stepped inside Devocion and Beca picked a table in the corner, shrugging off her coat and draping it over the back of her chair. Chloe kept her jacket and beanie on, a bit hunched on herself as she sat down in the chair opposite Beca’s.

“Beca?”

Beca glanced towards Sarah as she approached, wearing a waist apron with the café logo on it. Her dark blonde hair was woven back in a French braid, a few strands escaping, and curiosity swirled in her green eyes as they flickered to Chloe.

Okay, in hindsight, bringing Chloe here was a terrible idea.

“Hey, um, Sarah, this is Chloe, a friend from college.” She cleared her throat. “Chloe, this is my girlfriend, Sarah.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sarah replied brightly, her smile fading a little when all Chloe offered was a distant nod. Sarah met Beca’s gaze briefly, clearing her throat. “What can I get you guys?”

“My usual. You want anything to eat, Chlo?”

The nickname rolled off her tongue so naturally, Beca didn’t even catch it.

Chloe shook her head. “Just a black coffee.”

“Coming right up.”

“Thanks,” Beca said as Sarah spun around on her heels, her focus shifting to Chloe. “So um, I wanted to apologize for the other day and putting you on the spot at the club. I just… wasn’t sure how else to talk to you.”

“I can give you some of the money back if you need it.”

Beca furrowed her brow, not having expected that. “No, no. I… it’s fine. I don’t care about money.”

Something flashed in Chloe’s eyes at that, something Beca couldn’t quite pinpoint.

Sarah came back with two coffees before she could analyze it further, setting the mugs down on the table. “Your club sandwich will be here in a few, babe.”

Beca nodded, casting her a small, appreciative smile.

Chloe straightened a bit in her seat, cradling the mug with both hands. “I’m not sure what you expect me to say or do, Beca.”

Beca licked her lips. “I was hoping we could… hang out from time to time. I’ve missed you, Chlo. So has Aubrey.”

The mention of Aubrey made Chloe lookup. “Does she live in New York, too?”

“Um no, in Boston. She’s a lawyer. But she’d come down to have coffee, or lunch, or whatever you feel like doing. In a heartbeat.”

Chloe shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

What little hope flared in the pit of Beca’s belly upon Chloe showing interest in Aubrey’s life vanished. “Why not?��

“I told you. I’m not the same person anymore. I’m-- I’m not…”

Beca tilted her head to the side. “You’re not what?” She pressed gently.

Chloe’s gaze fleeted out the window as her rather calm demeanor now radiated agitation. Her knee started bouncing and her fingers tightened around the mug, and it was as though Chloe was battling against her own thoughts.

She was itching to reach across the table to rest her hand over her wrist in a sort of grounding gesture, but something told her that would have the opposite effect.

“Chloe?” Beca attempted once more, her voice as soft as she could muster, as it seemed like Chloe was on the brink of bolting.

The tear slipping out of Chloe’s eye tore her heart into two. “I-I have to go.”

Her chair screeched as she pushed it back roughly, and she was nearly out the door by the time Beca scrambled to her feet.

It was lunch-hour rush in one of the busiest avenues in Manhattan, and Chloe had already disappeared in the crowd when she reached the exit, leaving Beca to helplessly wonder how someone like Chloe, once the epitome of sunshine, got herself trapped in so much darkness.

#bechloe #bechloe fanfic #bechloe fic #beca mitchell #chloe beale #pieces

74 notes · View notes

idreamofplaid · 4 years ago

Text

It Begins

Square Filled: Tongue Fucking for @spnkinkbingo & Singing Christmas Songs for @spnchristmasbingo

Characters: Sam x Olivia (OFC); Jensen and John mentioned

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Oral (female receiving)

Summary: Olivia is new to the marketing firm owned by John Winchester, and is surprised to be assigned to an important ad campaign for a high profile client. She feels like she’s in over her head with the work, but she’s in even deeper with the boss’ son, Sam.

Word Count:3781

A/N: This is Part 1 of a Series called Surrender to the Truth. It’s an AU mash up of RPF and SPN characters. I’m also playing with time. Imagine Season 8 Sam and Jensen a year or so into the future.

It was beta’d by the wonderful @fangirlxwritesx67. Thanks Viv for your patience with all my questions, your enthusiasm for this project, your thorough reading that really made me think about what I was doing, and the series title.

Why were Mondays always like this? Olivia found it hard to decide what to wear after a weekend of being relaxed in pajamas and denim. Traffic was predictably the worst, even more so because of the holidays, and if there was any day she was going to forget and leave her coffee on the kitchen counter; it was Monday.

She made it to work on time with only a couple of minutes to spare. This was only her second week on the job at the city’s most up and coming marketing firm and being late was not the way to make a good impression on her new boss. John Winchester was a man with exacting standards and high expectations.

Her first stop was the coffee pot in the breakroom. There was no way her creativity was going to start flowing without caffeine. Cup in hand, Olivia made her way to her office. It was a respectable office, larger than the little more than a closet sized space she’d had in her last office. This one even had a small window. These things might seem insignificant, but Olivia had worked hard for them, and to her they were badges of success.

Olivia had barely had two sips of her vanilla creamer laced coffee when she had a visitor in her office, the kind of visitor who doesn’t knock: Sam Winchester. She hadn’t been here long, but she had been filled in on Sam. He was practically legendary among the women of the office, and some of the men. She took another sip of her coffee to hide the fact that her mouth had fallen open. This guy lived up to the hype.

He was wearing a white dress shirt, minus the jacket, and the way his shoulders and chest filled out that shirt was nothing short of sinful. His tie formed a perfect Windsor knot at his throat, and the face above that tie was Greek god handsome. He was a Greek god with dimples.

As he walked across the room, his every move exuded power and privilege, without the arrogance. Holy fuck. Could a man be more attractive?

He put a folder down on the edge of Olivia’s desk. Work. Right. He expected her brain to focus on what his family was paying her for.

She sat down to take a look at what was so important Sam Winchester himself had delivered it. When he spoke, his voice was just as delicious as the rest of him.

“New account. Dad wants you to take it.” He sat down smoothly on the edge of her desk to watch her look through the file like he owned the place, which he basically did. She finished looking through the file then looked up at Sam, more confused than ever. She was the new kid here. Why would they give her something this high profile, as in Hollywood high profile?

It wasn’t her most impressive moment or the most professional thing she’d ever said, but she blurted out, “Why me?”

Sam rested his hand on his thigh. The way his long fingers spread out over it wasn’t helping her concentrate or wrap her head around this situation. “Because you’re from Texas. Gives you insight into the culture, the vibe, the feel of it.” He stood and adjusted his tie, drawing your attention to his hands again. “This Ackles guy is a personal friend of my dad’s, so make it good.” As he left, he looked back over his shoulder. “Besides, everyone likes beer; you’ll come up with something.”

She said to the empty room, after he closed the door behind him, “No, actually I don’t.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For a couple of minutes after Sam left, all she could do was stare at the nicely framed but generic artwork on her wall. The Winchesters were trusting her with a huge account for some reason, and she was scared completely out of her mind that she was going to screw it up and ruin her future with this company, along with her career in advertising. Why did it have to be beer? Finally, she opened the file and spread the pictures of the brewery and the photos of its famous owner across her desk.

She picked up one of the glossy pictures of Jensen Ackles in all his male model perfection and took a good look at it. He was just as gorgeous as Sam, but his look was distinctly different. His eyes were a clear green, and they held a deep intensity. Those eyes were captivating in a photograph. What would they be like in person? She allowed herself to indulge in that fantasy for a few seconds then shook her head to break the spell. She needed some Bailey’s in her coffee. Excellent idea. She was already walking a perilous line at this new job, so why the hell not?

Olivia swiveled her chair and opened the cabinet behind her, reaching into the back to grab the bottle of liquor where she’d stashed it. She poured a generous amount into her cup, hoping it would calm her nerves. With that in mind, she turned on some music. The soothing notes of an instrumental version of “White Christmas” floated from the speakers.

She closed her eyes and let the taste of the coffee and the Irish cream sit on her tongue. This had been one of her favorite Christmas songs when she was growing up. It always took her to a fantasy wonderland, a place where life was ideal and Christmas cottages had perfectly trimmed trees with beautiful presents piled beneath them, fireplaces alive with glowing fires, stockings hung on the mantel, and snowflakes falling gently outside. Living in Texas, snow had been a magical and rarely seen event.

That long cherished holiday dream filled her mind and calmed her. She started singing along with the music. ...just like the ones I used to know. After a stanza or so, she opened her eyes to focus once again on the pictures of the brewery in front of her. A snowy Christmas was her fantasy, but she had a job to do; that was her reality.

By the end of the day when Sam came back to check on her progress, Olivia had practically nothing to show him. It would do no good to try and stall or hide just how little she had managed to accomplish. He was her supervisor on this project, and he was here to see how much progress she’d made.

He flipped through the work she’d done that day. His expression was unreadable, but his words were clear enough. “The Taste of Texas? Not exactly original is it?” He paused and cut his eyes over to her, then dropped them back to the papers he was holding. “The drawings aren’t bad though. We can probably use some of these hill country sketches. Maybe a logo design.” He closed the file and tossed it back on her desk.

“Do you know what you need?” Her silence said she didn’t. “Inspiration.”

She put her hand on the folder lying on her desk, the one that represented her failed day of work. “Where do I get that exactly?” She was unable to keep a hint of exasperation out of her voice.

He flashed her those unbelievable dimples and winked. “Follow me.” Sam took her to his office. It was easily four times the size of hers with an entire wall of windows that revealed a breathtaking view of the city, the lights from the skyline competing with the white lights on the tastefully decorated Christmas tree that adorned his office. It was opulent and sleek, a space befitting the heir to the growing empire.

She allowed herself to indulge in the breathtaking view of the skyline for a few seconds before commenting, “It’s an incredible view, but I don’t see anything about a family business in Texas out there.”

“Your inspiration isn’t out there; it’s in here.” His voice drew her eyes away from the magnificent view. Sam walked to his mini fridge and pulled out a six pack. He held it up. “A little Cosmic Cowboy from Family Business Beer Company. How can you create an impactful and memorable campaign without sampling the product?”

Sam twisted the top off a bottle and handed it to her. She took a sip of it. Unfortunately, she wasn’t one of those people who could describe the taste of beer. It was cold. It was beer. That was all she had. She was not a connoisseur. How was she ever going to do this ad campaign? She didn’t even like beer.

Sam had been watching her reaction carefully. Olivia didn’t have a poker face, though she’d tried to hide her reaction. It didn’t slip by him that she wasn’t comfortable with this beer thing.

“Not your favorite then?” He took a drink from his bottle. “Taste it again.”

He was the boss’ son, effectively her boss right now, and this was her job; but she got the feeling she would have done whatever he asked even if that hadn’t been the case. She took another sip, and Sam coached her through it. “Think about what you’re drinking; savor it. Just like wine, beer has notes; and they’re all different.”

She took one more drink. “What am I supposed to be tasting?” She’d never been good with wine either, but once someone explained there was blackberry or oak or whatever in it; she could pick up on that. She needed Sam to tell her what she should be tasting.

“Do you taste how it’s substantial but still light?” She took another sip and nodded. “It’s the grapefruit and pineapple that make it light; the pine in it gives it a little something more.” When he said it, she could taste it. She could taste it all.

Sam’s office had a fireplace, not like the one in her fantasy Christmas cottage, but when he picked up a remote and clicked it bringing the flames to life, it was cozy nevertheless. Sam took off his tie and tossed it on one of the upholstered chairs in front of the fire. He unbuttoned the top of his shirt and rolled up the sleeves. Absentmindedly, Olivia took another sip of her beer while she watched him.

Sam sat down on the plush rug in front of the fireplace, his back leaning against the leather sofa, legs stretched out in front of him. He put what was left of the six pack of beer down beside him and patted the floor on his other side, inviting her to join him. Olivia lowered herself next to him. She was thankful her pencil skirt wasn’t so tight that it didn’t allow some freedom of movement, and she tried not to stare at the way the firelight danced over his golden skin. He caught her looking at his strong forearms, exposed below the rolled white cuffs of his shirt. Sam smiled, a flirty and suggestive sort of smile. He finished the last of his beer, and popped open another.

Olivia was slower to finish hers, but she was beginning to warm up to the taste. Perhaps it was something you had to acquire, or maybe the company you were in made all the difference. Beer might be okay after all.

He asked, “What do you think of it now?”

“I can taste everything you said.” The crackle of the fire, the lights from the Christmas tree, and the skyline in the background created a perfect storm of romantic atmosphere. Olivia noticed how Sam’s eyes were a beautiful honeyed brown, dappled with green and gold. His lips looked incredibly soft in contrast to the hard line of his jaw. He caught her starting again, this time at his mouth.

He took her empty bottle and slotted it back into the cardboard square where it had originally been and put what was left of his beer in the empty square beside it. Sam turned back to her and leaned in closer. He took her face into his hand and looked into her eyes for a long second or two before he lowered his mouth to hers.

The way he kissed was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. His tongue was sure but gentle as it circled hers. He had complete control of her through what his mouth was doing. A wet spot was forming in her panties, her body responding to him. At the same time his hand was cradling her face while his fingers moved slowly back and forth through her hair, massaging her scalp and melting her under his touch. He could do anything to her. She was eager for it.

He broke the kiss, and now he was holding both sides of her head in his enormous hands. His lips were still just inches from hers. She could feel his breath when he asked, “What do you taste now?”

This man could make her breathless. He was either meant for her, or he was excellent at reading her actions and responses. His attention was completely on her, waiting for her response.

“I...can still taste the beer, but the way you taste makes it better.” It wasn’t eloquent. For someone who worked with words to pull the maximum effect from them, he could make her forget how to use them properly.

Sam kissed her again, hands roaming down her back and stopped just above her waist. “You know what else might really inspire you?”

Olivia pressed her body so tightly against his she could feel the muscles in his chest and stomach through his shirt. It made her wetter. “I have some ideas.”

He took off her jacket and let it fall to the floor. “Then let’s get those creative...juices flowing.” The blouse she was wearing was form fitting. Sam’s gaze traveled over her breasts before his eyes locked onto hers.

A spark traveled between them. Lust? Need? Want? Whatever it was, the sexual tension hung in the air for a moment before their lips crashed together.

Sam lowered her to the floor while he pulled her shirt up. He broke the kiss to tear it over her head and throw it out of the way. Now it was his turn. She took a fistful of his shirt and pulled it out of his pants, then did the same on the other side. He propped himself over her on his hands while she unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. She ran her hand across his chest and over his shoulder. What he’d been hiding beneath that expensive shirt was impressive.

Sam smiled down at her. “You like?”

“Very much,” she answered while he took off her bra and lowered his head to take one of her nipples in his mouth. He teased it with his tongue until she was arching her back and raising her hips off the floor.

Sam sucked hard on the nipple in his mouth before pulling off it. “Do you want more?” Her eyes closed and her lips parted, a small moan escaping from them.

He unzipped her skirt and dragged it down her legs, then turned his attention to her lace covered mound. Sam rubbed his fingers over her panty covered core. “Already so wet.” He pushed her panties aside and swiped his fingers through her folds. Then he lifted his fingers to his mouth and sucked her juices from them. His eyes bore into hers. “Tastes so good.”

He tore her panties from her body to gain access to what he wanted; she heard the sound of silk and lace ripping. Sam’s hand felt huge on her thighs as he pushed them wide apart. He held them there, and his tongue found her clit. He sucked it the same way he’d worked at her nipple.

She was raising and lowering her hips beneath him, fucking nothing and needing to be filled until Sam swirled his tongue all the way down her slit to her opening and thrust it inside. She wasn’t empty anymore, and it felt incredible. He moved his tongue in and out of her, fucking her on it until she was writhing and grabbing fistfuls of his hair.

She wanted to scream but was still aware enough to know they were in the office building. So, with some effort, she held it in. But when he added the pad of his thumb circling over her clit while he continued to thrust into her with his tongue, she started to whimper and moan. Her thighs were shaking when she came on his face. He licked and stroked her through her orgasm until she went still beneath him.

Sam didn’t move for a few seconds, then he raised himself up so he could see her reaction to what he’d done to her, how it had affected her. Olivia smiled up at him, and Sam returned the smile while he unbuckled, unzipped, and pushed his pants and underwear down over his hips. If she’d thought what was under his shirt was stunning, what was under his pants was better. His cock was absolutely magnificent. It stood against his stomach long and thick, resting on his well defined abs. Sam caught her looking at him yet again, and his smile got bigger. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

Sam lowered himself from his kneeling position until he was sitting on the floor. He pushed his pants farther down his legs to get them out of the way. He extended a hand to her, and she took it. He settled her on his lap. Olivia wrapped her legs around him. He looked at her with those beautiful eyes that combined colors in so many ways that seemed to change from moment to moment. “Do you want to go through with this? It’s not too late to say no.”

She squeezed her thighs into his sides. She was imagining the feel of his cock stretching her open. From the looks of him, it was going to be a tight fit. “I absolutely want to go through with this.”

That was all he needed to hear. He took a condom from the wallet in the pants pooling around his ankles and rolled it down over his length. Sam put his hands on each side of her waist and lifted her up, lining her up over the tip of his cock.

When he started to lower her down onto his shaft, she rolled her head forward. Her hair brushed over his shoulder as he continued to slowly ease her down onto his length, giving her time to adjust to his size. Once he was fully seated inside her, he began to roll his hips. Oliva imitated his movements, rolling her hips with the same rhythm.

She raised her head because she wanted to see into Sam’s eyes while he thrust up into her. There was something in the depths of them that she couldn’t quite define, something she wanted to figure out, something she wanted to understand and know better. He covered her mouth and kissed her with an intensity she could feel through her entire body.

His tongue was circling hers, tasting her, when she came again. Olivia clenched around him and her body spasmed in waves as her orgasm crested and blended into another. Sam kissed her all the way through it. She went limp in his arms, and he kept moving.

She could feel his hands on her and the warmth of the flame from the fire on her skin. She could feel the way his cock throbbed, still buried deep inside her, and she could taste him. He pulled away from her mouth and buried his face in her neck when he came.

“Olivia.” He said her name once, just the one word, and it struck her to the core. Olivia regretted that she couldn’t feel his hot release painting her insides. It felt like some part of him was being held back from her, and she wanted it all.

Whatever magic she’d felt hearing the sound of her name on his lips dissipated with the reality of Sam pulling himself from her body and carefully removing the condom. He pulled his pants back up before walking over to his desk to dispose of it in the wastebasket there. Olivia imagined it wouldn’t be the first time the cleaning service found one of those in his trash.

What was she doing? She just screwed the boss’ son in his office. She was a total cliche. Her mind told her she should feel like a slut, but she didn’t. She refused to be ashamed of what she’d done. The sex had been mind blowing; her body had never responded to any man that way. Sam had stirred something in her physically, but it had gone beyond that. It was something she would examine later and try to define, but now all she could think of was escaping the overwhelming thoughts and feelings consuming her. Hastily, she grabbed her clothes and was in the process of putting them back on when Sam returned.

He took her hand and charmed her with his boyish dimples and his eyes that had turned a soft gray like the color of a sky lit by a silvery moon. Still, it was his words that got to her the most. “Hey, don’t be in such a hurry to leave; you’re going to make me feel cheap.” He was flirting with her. Guys like him moved smoothly through situations like this as though they were born to it, and in a way they were. Still, part of her hoped he was being at least a little sincere.

Sam hadn’t let go of her hand. “Stay with me. We can watch the fire, enjoy the lights on the Christmas tree.” This was a fling, right? It was a one night stand with the irresistible guy at work. “Plan our trip to Texas.” What did he just say? “A six pack is just an introduction to the business. What you need is to see the brewery.”

Sam sat down on the sofa, and Olivia sank down beside him. She lowered her guard a little and let some of the bliss she was feeling wash over her. The ambience created by the light from the tree and the fire enhanced her mood; both the light and her mood seemed somehow softer now.

“We can take the company jet. Ring in the new year in Austin.” Listening to him, Olivia had a most happy thought. Maybe this wasn’t a one night thing after all.

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @onethirstyunicorn @peridottea91 @logical-princey @emilyshurley @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @67-chevy-baby @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @heycasbutt @jules-1999 @mrsdeannafuckingwinchester @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @mrs-meghan-winchester @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @becs-bunker @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @lonewolf471 @sea040561 @dawnie1988 @volleyballer519 @outcastedangel @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @daisymoder72 @sorenmarie87 @winchesterxfamilybusiness @deansotherotherblog

Sam/Jared: @girl-next-door-writes @stunudo @feelmyroarrrr @sammit-janet @idabbleincrazy @evansrogerskitten @focusonspn @autumninavonlea @spnxbsessed @durinsbride @deansyahtzee @waywardnerd67 @fullmooner @julesthequirky

#spnkinkbingo #spnchristmasbingo #sam smut #sam x ofc #sam series

47 notes · View notes

random-thought-depository · 3 years ago

Text

A short vignette I wrote as part of a discussion on a forum I post on, with past/present tense and other grammar and formatting and math somewhat cleaned up from the rough version I posted there, and I’ve given it a title; it is a stand-alone piece and is not connected to any of my main SF settings; I took the liberty of re-using some relatively generic planet names and taking a little inspiration from John M. Dollan’s Arcbuilder Universe (if you’re interested you can find links to a little of John M. Dollan’s more recent writing on his Twitter):

----------

Advantages of Specialization

As I departed Cordillera, I passed a sign of the times. There was one of the big Hegemony freighters, on its leisurely upward fall toward minimum safe distance. It was much too far away for unaided eye visual contact, of course, but Mariposa's telescope gave me a fine view of it. And Cordillera space traffic control had supplied all the relevant details, of course; planned trajectory and burn timing, alpha-numeric designation - and a name; the Humbolt. Humbolts are whales that sing. Appropriate, I guess; it was big. Next to it little Mariposa would look - well, like a butterfly flitting around a whale, I guess. Mariposa is 50 meters long and masses 100 tons, 500 tons fueled up, with space for about an elephant's mass in cargo. Mariposa could fit inside Humbolt's fuel tank. Mariposa could fit inside the nozzle of Humbolt's fusion rocket.

Humbolt had finished its escape burn from Cordillera two days ago and it was just falling up now, not very fast. Its orbital rockets had burned at a leisurely .5 MSS, only a twentieth of a G, and hadn't burned very long. It hadn't even reached escape velocity from Cordillera's sun. Mariposa had burned hard, 3 G on the way up from Cordillera's surface, then 1.2 G the rest of the way to outbound flight velocity. Mariposa passed Humbolt quickly; the velocity differential was huge. Mariposa hadn't just reached escape velocity from the local sun, Mariposa had reached escape velocity from the galaxy! If I never burned her rocket or did a hyperspace jump again Mariposa would fall up very long and very far, into intergalactic space, where she'd fall up until her atoms evaporated by proton decay or the Big Rip tore her apart or she disintegrated from the slow sandpapering of the intergalactic medium, whatever came first. Of course, that wouldn't happen. I'd reach the local hyperlimit and jump to hyperspace in three months or so, then it'd be a few days in hyperspace, then another two months to get from the 82 Eridani hyperlimit to Hyannis. Funny; a few months to cross a few dozen AU, a few days in hyperspace to cross dozens of light years, a light year is more than 60,000 AU. Our-space distances aren't applicable to travel in hyperspace, of course, but I still think it's funny. Lots of people do.

As I passed Humbolt I studied telescopic images of it, studied its weaknesses, and thought maybe a whale wasn't the right analogy for it after all. Something from an ocean was, but not a whale. It was more like one of those deep sea fish that explode when you bring them to the surface, into the light.

Humbolt hadn't landed at San Ysidro Spaceport. It couldn't have. It wouldn't have survived trying. Humbolt is a pure creature of the void, that will never know the kiss of air or the touch of ground. It unloads and loads cargo at space stations, leaving transport to and from planetary surfaces to specialized local surface-orbit shuttles.

Humbolt is long thin pillar more than a kilometer long, with the fusion rocket at one end, a spherical fuel tank and the cargo and a small crew section spun for centrifugal gravity at the other end, and huge radiator wings between them. The long pillar is to protect the rest of the ship from the heat and radiation of the fusion drive. The fusion drive has a maximum rated acceleration at full cargo load of 2 MSS - one-fifth of 1 G. If Humbolt tried to accelerate much faster with a full cargo load, its engine would melt with waste heat. And if by some miracle it got itself up to 1 G that long pillar would snap and crumble. Put Humbolt on the surface of an Earthlike world, and it would disintegrate into a mass of rubble. If Humbolt tried to land like Mariposa, it would have the aerodynamics of a brick, and pieces of it would snap off from air friction, and its great rocket wouldn't have the thrust to control its own fall, and its own weight would break its back before it even touched the ground.

Maybe a whale isn't a bad analogy after all. The blue whale is the biggest animal to ever live on Earth; it's easier to be big in the water.

It's about efficiency, see. Humbolt should never experience a force of acceleration much above 2 MSS, so it's not built to take more than .5 G or so. That's a good safety margin, given the gentle acceleration its drive maxes out at. Building it fragile like this is efficient. Saves mass. Saves construction material. Saves fuel. Saves money.

It doesn't even really have a cargo hold. They just attach stuff to the front. Lots of different configurations are possible. On that trip Humbolt's front end was a greebled sphere of snapped-together rectangular cargo containers half a kilometer across, with a sort of tarp draped across it to protect it from high-velocity dust. There must have been hundreds of thousands of tons of cargo in that greebled sphere of cargo containers. It must have been a non-trivial fraction of Cordillera's yearly offworld trade. Cordillera isn't a big colony; it's a dusty dry world with only a few small seas, marginally habitable, only 160 million inhabitants. The sphere is the most efficient shape for a container, and the protective tarp is light, and Humbolt doesn't need to worry about streamlining. Trucks and trains and planes and boats and Mariposa are long and narrow because if you have to worry about streamlining you want to minimize frontal area. Humbolt doesn't have to worry about friction, so its cargo can be gathered into a sphere, which is efficient.

Free traders like me with ships that can take off and land like Mariposa are still a lifeline on Cordillera. Until a few years back Cordillera had just one orbiting space station to service big cargo ships like Humbolt. The Hegemony gave them another one a few years back though. Gave them another space station. A whole space station. Just dragged it in all the way from Alpha Centauri. The Hegemony must have plans for Cordillera.

Humbolt fell behind quickly. After they'd passed a few million kilometers behind they sent a text message telling me they were about to fire up the big fusion rocket. The burn timing was already registered with Cordillera space control who'd passed it on to me, of course; it was just standard procedure. The Hegemony were sticklers for this kind of thing. The contents of the message were very standard too; if it hadn't been composed by a computer it might as well have been. I wondered if it was AI composed or some sort of standardized form they had a human fill out. There'd be an audio warning and check-in too.

The audio warning was less standardized. A male voice, with an accent that might have been Tolimanish, saying, "This is the Kentauric Hegemony nationalized transport KDY-442-A74F, the Humbolt, calling free trader Mariposa. Hello, Miss, uh ... Miss Cherinise? Did I pronounce that right? Just as per standard procedure we're giving you a redundant warning that we're going to fire up the big atomic flashlight in 600 seconds. Please acknowledge."

Mariposa and Humbolt were almost seven light seconds apart at this point; far enough apart for light lag to noticeably influence conversation. I could have fired up the subspace radio, but Humbolt hadn't bothered, and I wasn't going to spend power on it if they weren't.

I sent back, "This is free trader Mariposa, I understand and acknowledge your message. I see we have the same destination. Does that make this a race? Seems to be going pretty well for me so far if so; I left after you and I'm already ahead of you."

I couldn't resist the dig, even though I knew it was lame and wasn't even an effective one, it just drew attention to my own weakness. I made it sound happy, like I was joking and saying something to have an excuse to talk to somebody for a few minutes.

The voice from the Humbolt said back, "You'd lose. Might want to make sure any un-hardened electronics are protected before we fire the big rocket, and maybe put your fuel tank between your crew and cargo compartments and us, just to be extra safe. You should be OK at that distance, but it's gonna be some real Manhattan Project hours out here when we fire. KDY-442-A74F over and out."

I said back, "Mariposa's been in battles and flare star megaflares and I've had to navigate more than one particularly nasty gas giant and brown dwarf magnetosphere. My ship's built tough, I'll be fine. Free trader Mariposa, over and out."

For some minutes Mariposa and Humbolt fell up away from Cordillera's sun, glowing only with the warmth of life support and radar and power reactor standby power and cargo environment maintenance. Then Humbolt's main rocket fired.

Mariposa can do 4 G at a steady burn, more in a sprint. The big limit is my own tolerance. Compared to Mariposa's muscular rocket, Humbolt's great rocket is weak in thrust. It imparts the gentlest of pushes. Humbolt's great radiator wings soon sizzle with heat at a fifth of a G. It ejects less than 200 kilograms of fuel per second, for a ship that masses hundreds of thousands of tons fueled and loaded. It's built for fuel efficiency, endurance, not thrust. The big rocket fires continuously for more than two weeks, compared to Mariposa's 22 hour 1.2 G burn.

And that efficiency implies its own sort of power. That 200 kilograms flies out of the rocket nozzle at more than two percent the speed of light. Humbolt's big rocket is a butterfly's sigh in terms of thrust, but in terms of energy it's a nuclear bomb that explodes continuously for more than two weeks. Ships like Humbolt have to maneuver near planets using weaker secondary orbital rockets because of the damage that storm of radiation and high-velocity charged particles might do. Alerts squawked nervously as Humbolt became a dark speck at the end a brilliant comet of charged particles and radiation thousands of kilometers long, the brightest thing in Mariposa's sky except for the local sun.

Mariposa uses not a lot of energy to eject a lot of fuel not very fast. This gives it the thrust to blast off the surface of a world. It's like one of those gasoline-powered SUVs you see on a lot of low-population worlds with big stretches of hostile terrain; go anywhere no matter how bad the road, power over rocks and through sucking mud puddles. But it's like an SUV; it guzzles fuel. And fuel-guzzling, in space, ultimately means slow. Humbolt uses terawatts of energy to eject a little fuel very fast, and this makes it fuel-efficient, and fuel-efficient in space ultimately means fast.

The man was right. If it's a race, Mariposa will lose, I'll lose. Humbolt will reach the hyperlimit of Cordillera's system in a little over a month, reach Hyannis in a little over two months, well ahead of me. And with ships like Humbolt the Hegemony can charge shipping prices half of the minimum I can charge to stay in business and come out with a 20% profit. And they can ship high-bulk goods that are just out of reach for me. Mariposa is a flying fuel tank with an engine and a crew quarter and a cargo compartment attached, stuffed into something shaped like a delta-winged aircraft. Humbolt gets almost three times my delta V while being less than half fuel by mass.

Free traders like me kept trade flowing through the age of fragmentation and economic contraction after the disintegration of the Terran Empire. Our tough versatile little blast off from anywhere land anywhere rockets were just what human space needed back then. But it's getting tough for somebody like me to stay in business nowadays.

#my writing #stories #speed fiction #fiction #my fiction

10 notes · View notes

severetimetravelnerd · 4 years ago

Text

Let’s stitch this up (ft. G Dragon)

Jiyong draws the line.

(I don’t own any of the images used. All credit goes to the original owners.)

Taglist:

@unabashedturkeytreeslime

@happiestgirlontheeastcoast

@kwonnansi

Word count : 3343

If there is anyone else who would like to be tagged, you can comment or leave me a message :))

I only write on this blog on tumblr, so if you see my work on any other platform, please let me know immediately.

I know it’s been a while, but I hope you enjoy this one :))

Features appearances from OC Mirae and Kwon Dami.

Warnings: Angst, cursing, surgery (Appendectomy)

————————————————————————–

You sighed as you looked down at the counter, face slightly pale, thinking back to your doctor’s visit earlier today. You were scared. You had never had surgery before and you didn’t know an appendectomy was an emergency procedure. You shuddered lightly before groaning, putting your face in your hands. It was early, but you had had a long day. You just wanted to hit the bed and get a good night’s sleep, but the only problem with that was you wanted to discuss your health with your boyfriend Jiyong, but he wasn’t home yet. He was working and, on some nights, he would go out for a drink, and get late. You were just about to change into your pajamas and lightly complain about him not being home to yourself when you heard the front door open. Through all your worry, you felt a light smile spread across your face. Jiyong was home. You just needed a little comforting, and no one was as good at comforting you as Jiyong. You walked towards the front door, smiling and wrapping your arms around him.

“Hi Ji. How was your day?”

You were more than surprised when he shrugged you off harshly and turned around looking furious. You took a few steps back, shocked at his reaction. Before you could ask him what was wrong, he said very sarcastically,

“I don’t know Y/N. You tell me.”

Your eyebrows shot up, too shocked to say anything. He rolled his eyes and started off.

“Why did you ditch my sister, Y/N? You know how important she is to me. Even if you don’t like her, just be civil to her! Why can’t you even do that?”

Your face furrowed up in confusion.

“What? Jiyong, no. I love your sister. I didn’t ditch her. What happened-”

Jiyong got even angrier.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake Y/N. Don’t lie to me. Why did my sister call me asking where you went?”

He paused to glare at you. Running his fingers through his hair, he said,

“All you had to do was have lunch with her Y/N. Why was that so hard?”

You were on the verge of tears. You had a long day. You didn’t ditch his sister. Halfway through lunch, your stomach began hurting furiously, so you apologised for leaving and left for the hospital, where you got diagnosed with appendicitis and had your surgery fixed. You were scared, you were in pain and you didn’t mean to hurt his sister’s feelings.

“Ji, sweetheart, listen to me. That’s not-”

You paused when you saw the look of sheer disbelief on his face. He rolled his eyes again and scoffed. His voice furiously low, he said,

“Oh, come on. Don’t give me that crap. You know you crossed the line here.”

You could hear this ringing in your ears and you felt your gut twist a little. You voice soft, you asked,

“There’s a line?”

He snapped.

“Of course, there’s a line Y/N. This is my family we’re talking about.”

Your voice was still deadly quiet, so much so that he couldn’t hear the small break in your voice when you said,

“And I’m not?”

And when he didn’t reply, you knew you were both on different pages.

You stood there, frozen in shock, trying to comprehend everything that was happening, but Jiyong sighed and said,

“I’m going to go talk to my sister and fix this.”

And he left. Just like that, he left you. You knew what you had to do. You knew you needed to end the relationship. If Jiyong drew a line and never considered you his family, then you were both worlds apart when it came to where you wanted things to go. You wanted nothing more than to start a family with him, but this wasn’t right. He didn’t even let you tell him what actually happened. He didn’t notice that you were sick and in pain. You scoffed. Wow, what a day. You didn’t want to dwell on what happened too much, so you went to pack your stuff for the hospital. You could ask your best friend Mirae to pack up the rest of your stuff later. She was super busy with work, so you couldn’t ask her to stay with you for the surgery and while you were in the hospital, but you also knew she would kill you if you didn’t tell her about this. So, you called her. She answered on the third ring with a groan.

“Oh my god Y/N. Get some sleep!”

Normally, you would have had a snarky comeback ready, but you didn’t have it in you.

“Hey.”

Immediately, Mirae was more alert.

“What’s up? You okay?”

And that’s when it all came rushing back to you. You choked on a sob.

“No, no I’m not.”

Mirae, perpetually ready with sarcastic comebacks, could only say,

“Oh honey, I’ll be there in ten minutes. Do you want to stay on the call with me?”

You managed to get out a muffled no, telling her to focus on her driving and to be safe, opting instead to just let yourself cry for a while. You didn’t even realise when Mirae got there until she slowly hugged you and pulled you up from the floor.

Mirae patiently waited until you finished crying and calmed down before asking you what happened. She also waited patiently until you were done and didn’t even say anything. She just hugged you and helped you relax. When she finally spoke, she said,

“Listen, Y/N. I’m always going to be here for you. No matter how busy I am with work. I can’t believe you weren’t planning on telling me about the surgery. I’m going to cancel my flight to Japan right now and then we can go to the hospital.”

Oh no. You couldn’t make Mirae miss out on the huge project she so painstakingly planned over three months. Taking a deep breath, you shook your head.

“No, Mirae. You have to go. Your flight is only in the night. My surgery is in the morning. You can wait for that and make sure I’m okay and still make it in time.”

Mirae eyes lit up, because the project meant a lot to her, but she still sounded a little unsure.

“Y/N, but what about moving all your stuff out of here? And staying with you in the hospital?”

You shook your head.

“You’ll only be gone for twenty-hour hours. I’ll be in the hospital for three days after my surgery. That’s plenty of time to get all of my stuff from here. And I’ll be fine staying in the hospital alone. It’s not a big deal. You’ll be there for the scariest part, the surgery.”

“Y/N, are you sure?”

Hiding just how scared you were, you nodded.

“Yup. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

Jiyong groaned as he slammed his car door shut. He was irritated by you, but he was angrier at himself for having said those things. He just hadn’t realised it yet. He walked into his sister’s house, not realising it was late. She jumped up from the couch, nearly spilling her hot chocolate.

“Oh my god Jiyong. What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

Jiyong couldn’t stop pacing.

“Everything’s fine. I just wanted to apologise for Y/N. I don’t know what got into her. I’m so sorry she ditched you.”

Dami looked very confused.

“What’re you talking about?”

Jiyong couldn’t help the eye roll he let out.

“You told me on the phone earlier today that she left halfway through lunch.”

Dami groaned.

“You cut the call before I could finish talking, didn’t you? Jiyong, she didn’t ditch me. She apologised so many times for having to leave. And I didn’t call you because I was mad. I called because it looked like she left because she wasn’t feeling well, and I think I heard her ask the taxi driver to take her to the hospital. I called because I was worried about her. It looked pretty bad. She was so pale and tired.”

Jiyong froze for a minute, slowly trying to process everything Dami just told him. He suddenly looked up, eyes widening.

“Fuck.”

“What have you done?”

But Jiyong left before she could complete that sentence. Jiyong was so frustrated. Why was he so mean? Why did he have to do that? Were you okay? He didn’t remember what he said. He just knew that he hurt you.

“Fuck Jiyong. What did you say to her?”

He got back to your apartment at around 5 am the next morning. It was a really long drive. And he walked in, heart sinking when he didn’t see you on the couch. Usually, when the two of you fought, both of you would wait for the other to calm down and talk things out on that very couch. Well, he had fucked up very, very badly. Jiyong nervously wrung his hands as he walked closer to the bedroom. “

Y/N, love, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I said and why I said it. I’m so sorry for taking everything out on you. I heard you aren’t feeling well. What’s wrong, love?”

There was no response from you. The panic in him rising, he opened the door to your shared bedroom and when he saw you weren’t there, he felt his heart stop for a minute.

After his brain started working again, he rushed to check whether you had taken your things with you. You couldn’t leave him.

“Please, god, let her things be there”

was the only thing he could mutter to himself over and over again as he checked your closet. What he found just confused him further. Most of your stuff was there, but your favourite hoodie, that you wore nearly every day, was gone. he was just about to try calling you for the millionth time when he heard the front door open. He rushed out, hoping you were back, but he only saw Mirae walking in. His heart sank again, but he knew she would know where you were.

“Mirae, where is she?”

Mirae gave him a sympathetic smile before saying,

“I’m not telling you.”

“What?! Mirae please.”

“No.”

“Then why are you here?”

She shot him a pitying look.

“I’m here to start packing up her stuff.”

Jiyong just fell to the floor, in shock.

“A-are you saying she’s leaving me?”

“Yes.”

“Mirae, no. Please just tell me where she is. I need to talk to her. I need to apologise. We can fix this.”

Mirae sighed before turning to face Jiyong.

“Look. I’m mad at you for the way you treated her, but I told her that I think she should talk to you first. That she shouldn’t just leave. That if nothing else, she needs closure. But she refused. And she told me she doesn’t want you knowing anything about where she is. So, while I don’t think she’s doing the right thing, as her friend, I will do everything she wants me to. I’m sorry.”

Jiyong didn’t get up from the floor. He couldn’t. he couldn’t stop thinking about losing the relationship that finally felt right. Mirae started packing and left, but he was still there, on the floor, head in his hands.

2 months later

Jiyong was in the supermarket. It was 2 am, and he desperately wanted those snacks he tried a while ago. At least, that’s what he came there for. Somehow, he found himself in the wine aisle.

“Ah, should I get one more? “Fuck it, let’s buy it. Just another night of having sad grocery store wine and falling asleep on the couch crying.”

He was about to reach out to pick the wine bottle when he felt someone else also reach for it. He jumped back, apologising immediately.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise- Y/N?”

You froze like that, but then quickly pulled your arm back down. In your cropped hoodie, he would have been able to see the scar from your surgery if you waited too long. You were too late though. His eyes were wide and his voice was serious when he said,

“Y/N, what was that?”

You looked away, refusing to answer. His voice rang a little louder.

“Y/N, please. What was that? Did you get surgery?”

You sighed, not wanting to talk to him. You managed to cut him out of your life, but you weren’t over him. In fact, you were very much in love with him and wanted a bottle of wine to get drunk and rant your woes out to Mirae. You didn’t want to talk to him and spiral again. He reached for your hand, only for you to back away. Jiyong’s eyes were hurt when you looked up. You gave in.

“Fine. I guess I owe you that. We can go back to your place for a bit.”

He winced when you said that. His voice was obviously pained when he said,

“Our place Y/N. That’s home.”

You missed him too. You didn’t want to do this either, but what you had wasn’t a good relationship. You forced yourself to sigh and look bored.

“Jiyong, it’s been two months since I left. We’re done.”

His face fell and he could only whisper,

“Y/N, please don’t just write us off yet.”

You remained silent. You didn’t have it in you to lie and tell those trusting eyes that you didn’t love him when you clearly did.

The car ride back was silent. Jiyong was driving and you were staring out of the window, thinking about how you were going to manage to pull this off. As soon as Jiyong shut the door behind you, you were about to turn around and say,

“Listen, Jiyong, I can’t do this. We can’t be together.”

But you never got around to that, because Jiyong’s hand gently brushed against your hip, feeling for your scar.

“Did it hurt?”

You gasped lightly when you felt his hands on you after so long. Only Jiyong could make you feel that way. Although you wanted to let your knees cave and let him hold you, you didn’t. You tried to stay strong. You reached around to grab his hand, but you couldn’t throw his hands off you. You didn’t have it in you. All you could manage was a pained whisper.

“Jiyong, please don’t.”

Jiyong’s thumb lightly brushed over your scar again before turning you around to face him, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“I’m sorry, love. I ‘m sorry I wasn’t there for you throughout all of this. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. I’m sorry I took out my frustrations on you.”

You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped you then. That was all you wanted during the surgery. You were scared and you just wanted your boyfriend there.

“I know you’re hurt. I know I said some horrible things. But can we please try talking about this? I can’t lose you.”

You took a deep breath and tried to gather your thoughts.

“Jiyong, I can’t do this again. You made it very clear that you didn’t think I was as important as your family. Which is fine. It really is. But I can’t be in a relationship like that, because if things are already like this, the family I start with you will also never be as important to you.”

Jiyong looked taken aback.

“Y/N, what did I say that would make you think that? Oh, I’m so sorry. That’s not what I meant. At all. I want a family with you. And you are important to me. You’re the most important person to me.”

You couldn’t help the small stray tear the slipped out when you said,

“That’s not what you said then Jiyong.”

He held your hand, trying to look into your eyes.

“Y/N, love, I know this is going to sound bad, but I don’t remember what I said to you that night.”

You laughed. A biting, hurt laughter.

“You said all those horrible things and you don’t even remember them? Wow, guess that makes it clear how much I mean to you then.”

He winced, but persevered.

“Y/N, that’s not what it is and you know it. You know I love you. And I really am sorry I hurt you. I hate myself for that. But you know the reason I don’t remember anything is because I didn’t mean a word of it. You know I remember things that I mean. I was being an asshole, not listening to everything that happened and trying to pick a fight with you. But can you please tell me what I said? I want to know so that I can apologise properly.”

The two of you sat on the couch in silence for a while, you sipping on the cup of tea he made you while he waited nervously. You finally started.

“You told me I crossed a line when I ditched your sister.”

His eyes widened.

“And I was hurt, so I asked you whether there is a line I can’t cross, and you said that they’re family. I asked you whether I wasn’t family and you never responded. You just left for your sister’s place.”

Jiyong looked shocked beyond measure.

“Love, I’m so sorry. I promise I didn’t mean any of it. You’re my number one priority and I want a family with you too.”

His voice turned small.

“I wanted to propose, but I didn’t because I didn’t think you wanted to get married and I didn’t want to put any pressure on you.”

You sighed, looking at him for the first time, and continued.

“I ditched her because the pain got too much for me and I had to go to the hospital. They told me I had to get an appendectomy done the very next day. I was terrified. I wanted nothing more than your unconditional love and support, but you left me alone. Mirae was there for me, and I know she always will be, but where were you when I needed you? You never let me tell you what happened. You never listened. Jiyong. Why shouldn’t I break up with you?”

You wanted to hear his reason, whether he’d be able to find one, because deep down, you wanted him to. Jiyong moved a little closer to you.

“Well Y/N, for starters, we both still love each other. I never stopped caring about you. And I was not there for you when you needed me, and believe me, I regret it. But it wasn’t because I didn’t care. It was because I didn’t know. My fault again, but I want you to know that I care. I will change. I will be more careful about the things I say, and I will definitely never snap at you for no reason again. But I know I love you and I want you to be my home. I want us to start a family together. I know you used to want that. And I think it’s tough to find love like that in the world. So, please. Let’s give us another shot.”

You looked into his eyes and you knew he was being earnest. You still hadn’t forgiven him completely but those small glitches could be worked out in a while. You gave him a very light smile before saying,

“Well, marriage and family is a bit much for now, but let’s try and work this out and see where we go, hmm?”

And before you could put your cup of now cold tea down, Jiyong roughly pulled you onto him, kissing you deeply as though starved. Your tea had spilt all over the two of you and Jiyong ended up pushing a book off the couch by accident, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was the smile on both your faces as you wrapped your arms around him and kissed him back, letting him sink back into the couch.

#kpop scenarios #g dragon scenarios #kpop angst #g dragon angst #bigbang scenarios #kpop fluff #when you're sick #when he doesn't listen #kpop #angst #fluff #g dragon

56 notes · View notes

onestowatch · 3 years ago

Text

Oston Pens Her Coming-of-Age Story on ‘Am I Talking Too Much? [Q&A]

Photos: Dolly Ave at Lollapalooza

Rising star OSTON is no longer sitting at the kids' table. In her new EP, Am I Talking Too Much?, the singer-songwriter puts her fears, frustrations, and deepest thoughts on display. It’s a victorious display of emotion sonically paired with massive pop moments, an ethereal interlude, impressively sharp lyricism, and so much more.

Am I Talking Too Much?, which has been in the works since 2019, has forged a path through a time of tough life lessons, self-realization, and most importantly confidence. The project navigates topics such as the pressures of growing up and the universal fear of falling in love in just eight poignant tracks. Overall, the EP tells OSTON’s coming-of-age story, learning when to not take things seriously and gaining the ability to spot those who underestimate her tenacity.

We had the chance to chat with OSTON about the making of the EP, what it means to her, and an exclusive track-by-track breakdown.

Tell us about what’s different this time around, versus making your debut EP, Sitting at the Kids Table?

Am I Talking Too Much? feels astronomically different from my debut EP in so many ways. When we were making my first project, Sitting at the Kids Table, I was really focused on creating a project and getting it out into the world rather quickly. The songs were written and produced with a very fast turnaround, and because I was so new to the industry, I was more than okay with that.

After that project came out, I started really digging into my artistry. Since Am I Talking Too Much? was written over the course of two-and-a-half-ish years, I got to choose exactly which songs I felt described this second chapter of my musical life. I went through some huge life changes while writing this EP, and I think that’s very apparent in the story arch of this project.

Taking “last time pt. II” into consideration, do you feel Am I Talking Too Much? is a continuation of the topics explored in Sitting at the Kids Table or does it exist in your head as a separate entity entirely?

This EP feels like an entirely new chapter of my life, just as I hope the next generation of music I put out can serve as something completely new. This project follows me on a journey of moving away from home, shedding toxic relationships and old layers that used to hold me back, and learning not to define myself by how others view me (or at least trying not to). Other than the name “last time pt. ii,” the two songs live as their own entities, and I’m really excited for listeners to discover that.

You have some special collaborators who worked on the EP, can you tell us about your creative journey with everyone who helped this project come to life?

I was lucky enough to get to work with some of my closest friends and collaborators on this project, which is part of the reason it’s so special to me. My boyfriend, Drew, executive produced the whole project (with me staring over his shoulder the whole time). Our great friend, Nydge, came in on two of the songs (“Am I Talking Too Much?” and “Sour”) to help spice up the direction a bit. I also co-wrote a few of the songs with my friends JORDY, lixa, and Mr. Popular—who all helped bring the crazy stories inside my head to life.

What are some of your goals for 2021, if any? Or are you just taking things day by day?

2021 has been an absolutely crazy year for me so far, and I’m lucky enough to say that I’ve already reached a lot of the goals I set for myself at the beginning of the year. For starters, finishing up and releasing this EP has been an enormous box on my to-do list, so finally having it out in the world is a huge accomplishment in itself.

Last weekend, I experienced a crazy, unexpected run of shows – I opened for Omar Apollo at the Metro in Chicago for a Lollapalooza aftershow, and then stepped into the official lineup of Lollapalooza on Friday at the Lake Shore Stage. I hadn’t even imagined playing my first music festival for another year or two! Another bucket list goal of mine has been to go on a support tour with another artist, and I’ll be joining my great friend JORDY on his “Mind Games” tour in the fall!

What do you want listeners to take away from listening to Am I Talking Too Much?

If you listen to this EP and take anything with you, I hope it’s the understanding that there is always room to make mistakes, and nobody ever gets everything right the first time around. We all live through our own tragedies, and that’s what makes us the badass people that we are.

Would you mind breaking down each track on the project for us?

“Am I Talking Too Much?”

This was actually the first song we wrote for this project. At the time, I was thinking it would just be a single, but I could never get over the idea of a whole body of work called “Am I Talking Too Much?.” It just felt so fitting with who I am as a person.

The concept came from a date where I was talking with this guy, and he turned to me and said, “Wow, you sure talk a lot don’t you?” I walked away reflecting on how talking “too much” and overthinking are such big characteristics of mine. But, it’s also a part of what makes me who I am, and I realized that maybe the people who love and accept me for that are the people I really want in my life anyways.

“Hypocrite!”

“Hypocrite!” was such a fun and quick one to write that came from one day in the studio with the amazing writer/producer Mr. Popular. We started talking and joking about the stereotypical “shitty ex” that gaslights you and tries to make you think that everything they do is somehow your fault. It was particularly fun and therapeutic for me because I got to pull from multiple different relationships throughout my life to create this one sort of evil, hypocritical character as the star of the song.

“I Think You Should Leave”

Man, I love this song. It’s such a fun one! I’ve never really let myself get as pop as I did with this one. Drew and I really just aimed to have a fun time writing this one and wanted it to be as out-there as it could. I’d call this the “party anthem” of the project, telling off all the haters and mansplainers. This is the song that gets the most hate on social media, and it’s quite funny to me that the main group of people getting angry online are exactly the demographic we wrote it about.

“Lie About You”

“Lie About You” was the last song written for this project. In all reality, the song was never supposed to see the light of day. After I got the demo back, I actually really hated the song and it felt way too personal and on-the-nose with what I was going through to ever release.

I don’t know what willed me to throw the demo up on TikTok (maybe it was the fact I was visiting home, drinking wine, and feeling sappy as per usual) but the next morning I woke up to a viral video and thousands of people asking me to release the song for real. That same day I was supposed to announce “I Think You Should Leave,” but my management called me and was like “Dude, we’ve gotta finish this one and put it out like, tomorrow.” and that’s exactly what we did!

“Hurt Like___”

“Hurt Like___” came at a time when I wanted to write something really sad and emotional, even though that wasn’t how I was actually feeling in the moment. I decided to write this alternate ending for my relationship with Drew—one where I had let my fear of things going wrong take over. I wrote the story of our breakup and how I thought I would’ve felt if we ended things when I moved to LA, instead of continuing to date long-distance and then eventually move in together. I’ve actually never written a song from this point of view before, so it was pretty challenging, but so worth it.

“How To Feel Human”

JORDY, Drew and I wrote this on a little trip to Drew’s old Chicago studio in the middle of the pandemic. We all had a little pink wine (this was also the same week that we wrote “Tomorrow” for JORDY’s project, so clearly we were feeling pretty sappy) and we started reminiscing about how easy things used to be when we were younger and living at home with our parents – even though it didn’t always seem like it back then.

We realized that as you get older and move away from your upbringing, the idea of “home” starts to become less and less clear. You start to find “home” in the places you move to and the people you surround yourself with, and the childhood memories of “home” sort of start to fade into the distance. It’s a pretty somber topic, but when you surround yourself with the right people, it makes growing up a whole lot easier.

“last time pt. II”

All I’ll say about this one is that Drew and I wrote it before our very first date. It was kind of our way of saying goodbye to the people in our lives that were holding us back, and realizing what we had sitting right in front of us. This song makes me wanna cry every time I hear it.

“Sour”

Sour is my unapologetically-honest diary entry to myself. Funny enough, this record actually started out in a completely hyper-pop direction with massive synths and drums, but I couldn’t get any of the lyrics or melodies to make sense. When we went back in and stripped it down to just piano vocals, this whole story started flowing out of me. I started asking myself why I treat myself the way that I do, and similarly, why society encourages us to be so critical of ourselves and one another.

I wanted to pay tribute in this song to one of my biggest musical inspirations, which is the Melodrama album by Lorde and Jack Antonoff. The outro bit of the song deviates away from the piano/vocal vibe and shifts into a very musical, ethereal space. This is where the project starts to culminate and become blurry—I wanted this bit to feel like a conclusion to the chaos of the seven songs that came before it.

Ending the song with the words “but I gotta go” felt like the best parting gift as I left to start another chapter of my musical life.

#oston #interview #am I talking too much?#singer songwriter #pop

2 notes · View notes

fenheart87 · 4 years ago

Text

manikin

Lukanette 2020 Exchange piece For @the-alice-of-hearts, enjoy!

Marinette was on a mission,step outside of her comfort zone and again echoed by her technical design professor to be more daring and assertive and bold. She needed to round out her styles and portfolio as much as she could to make herself a more attractive candidate for any applications she submitted or even just expanding her online commissions and bulking her portfolio that way if she chose to start out on her own. It was difficult to just be set in one style and make it big when just starting. Mari figured that she would explore as much as she could before committing to one genre or style, it would keep her far from being burnt out like some of her fellow classmates.

“Hey Nathaniel! Have you seen Juleka?” She called out, walking a bit faster to the redhead who waited for her to join him.

“She was around this morning but I haven’t seen her since. Have you tried calling or texting her?”

“Yup, nothing but silence though. I’m out of touch with everyone’s schedules the more time goes by.”

“Is she complaining she can’t be super Mari and be our everyday ladybug again?” Marc teased, sneaking up and poking the shorter girl’s sides resulting in a squeal.

“Marc!” She smacked a red clad shoulder before they disappeared behind their boyfriend. “Stop doing that!”

“Stop making it so easy?” Nathaniel offered, smirking at Mari’s adorable pout.

“I hate you. I really do. Welp, if Juleka is busy and you’re both too shy to play model and dress up and have proof of it, I guess I need to find a model.”

“I’m pretty much free if you need a mannequin, class ends at three for me this week.” Marc offered kindly, green eyes peeping over Nathaniel’s shoulder.

“Oh wonderful! I found another sample fabric I wanted to try for you!” She did her jump and hip shimmy, ignoring the giggles.

“Only exception being Thursday, that’s date night this week.”

“Fine, have your boyfriend Marc on Thursday, I get your girlfriend Michelle the rest of the week. See you later!” Mari dashed away, giggling as the bright red spots on Marc’s cheeks.

After walking around campus and deciding against searching too far as she still had classes, she was no closer to finding her muse model but it did nothing to dampen her good mood. It was a sign that meant she would just have to explore the in and outs further and stay away from her usual haunts. Instead of using her eyes she decided to let her ears guide her, Marinette glanced around a few times and focused on conversations instead of what people were wearing, hearing the emotions in their voices. With the new mindset, carefully the young designer wandered around and sketched some expressions, new emotions to craft into fabric choices and color schemes to make them come alive as clothing to wear the emotion plain as day. There was a ton of laughter and giggles around her until she got closer to the library. The sound of a guitar drew her in like a sirens song.

Marinette needed a break from all the walking and climbing she had done so far and decided to stop by the library for the few books she had on hold. Skirting around the cliques that hugged the stairs more often than naught, the petite designer made her way into the library. Seeing Max working the check out desk, Marinette bee lined for him, smiling wide enough to crinkle eyes just slightly.

“Marinette, how are you today?” Max greeted, shuffling books around to scan them and write the names on the cards for the reserved items.

“I should have a few books on hold, all fashion related of course, there was one that was checked out but if you could see if it’s been returned?”

“Sure thing, book title, author or DEWY code?”

“There’s several, here’s my card.” Marinette held it out for Max to scan, rocking on heels slightly to a rhythm she could hear every time the door opened.

“Ah yes, you have five reserved and it looks like two have not been checked back on yet. Would you like me to check the return bin?” Max asked, finding the appropriate stack of books and setting them on the counter.

“Yes please, even if we can find one more that makes it easier to study and hopefully pass with flying colors.”

“Fashion has always been a huge part of you Marinette, as long as your heart is in it then you’ll pass with flying colors.” Max smiled at the rare blush on the young woman’s face, “I’ll check the returns for you, be right back.

Marinette breathed deeply to calm her sudden nerves, her friend’s unwavering faith in her abilities always managed to take the designer off guard but she wouldn’t change any of them for the world. While waiting, she filled out the cards for the books in the pile to make Max’s job easier but kept getting distracted by the wonderful music that kept sneaking through.

“I managed to find both luckily, if you could fill these out then you free to chase whatever has you so distracted.” The glint from his glasses made Marinette squeak in embarrassment as being caught.

“Thanks Max!” Quickly she stuffed the books in her backpack and marched at a reasonable pace to the door and only let out the breath she was holding once outside.

Students shuffled to and from the library, stopping to chat quietly or bask in the music for a moment before continuing their way. The solo guitarist was the center of attention, playing a mix of old and new songs. The overall genre seemed to be with the intent to soothe stressed students and teachers alike as they passed by, Marinette could feel herself relaxing and her creative block lifting. Deciding to obey her muse, the slim young woman snagged a bench that was being vacated by a couple who had finished their coffees. Unsure how much time had passed, the designer lost herself to the world of inspiration, completing outlines with notes and vague sketches with the knowledgeable experience telling her to be swift and flesh then out later.

The music had become a soft and sweet ballad, just hovering in the background for anyone to notice or ignore if they were passing by. Marinette took a quick glance at her outlines and notes, polishing little things or rewriting fabric choices, her eyes fell to the musician that she could finally see and she froze. This was exactly what she was looking for, his expression spoke of calm but hid the slight anxiety every time he started a new song. When he suddenly changed tunes and a couple stopped fighting because the music took over made his lips quirk in a faint grin. His clothes were made to blend in, ripped jeans and combat boots topped with a plain Jagged tee and lightweight layered Hoodie. That did absolutely nothing to help hide his hair with the blue tips, was that a tongue ring?! Marinette felt the need to sketch and design and she had to see what color his eyes were.

Swiftly but carefully she put away her supplies and made her way to the musician that was quietly packing away his guitar and removing the tips from his case. The designer caught his attention and when the weight of gaze met hers, Marinette just blurted out what came to mind.

“You’re hot, can I undress you?” With a squeak, she smacked her face with her sketchpad and took a few deep lungs full of air. “I’m sorry! I want your clothes- I just, you were playing and sound sexy- GOOD SOUND! I really like you- YOUR style it’s mysterious but like nice- I really want to undress you- I mean I-!”

“Deep breaths.” His melodic voice cut through her anxiety like a hot knife to butter. “I’m Luka.”

“Ma-ma-Marinette!”

“Nice to meet your Ma-ma-Marinette. You’re an artist too?” He nodded causally to her sketchbook.

“Yes. Fashion designer. Project.” Few more deep breaths. “I need to branch out and try a new style and I usually create women’s clothes. So my professor told me to challenge myself and your music inspired me and when I looked at you, you’re perfect. That is- I mean, if you wouldn’t mind being my model?”

“So do I get to undress myself or is that your job?” Luka teased with a grin, causing Marinette to hide her face again with a squeak. “I have a crazy schedule but I’d love to help.”

“I have time on Tuesdays from two to five, Thursdays from five to seven and Saturdays after the morning rush so more like three or four to eight.” She rattled off, pulling out her planner to his amusement.

“Okay I’ll have to check my schedule, two of my classes are up in the air. How about we exchange phone numbers and then I can text you what’s my schedules going to look like? It changes week to week.”

“Most musicians do it seems, one of my best friends is a DJ and he takes all kinds of gigs so it’s hard to sit down and catch up.” They traded phones and saved their numbers before swapping back. “Some of this we can do via Skype if needed, you have to be comfortable with the design too and just wearing it to help my grade.”

“Seems like you’ve done this before.” Luka stuffed his phone into his pocket and packed away his guitar, shouldering his case.

“Fashion student, too broke for mannequins so I lure in unsuspecting folk with delicious free pastries from the best bakery in town.” She teased with a huge grin.

“Well then, I look forward to those pastries.”

Waving, they went their separate ways and Marinette had a skip in her step that had been missing due to the stress. Texting her other friends that were her usual models but this time with ideas of clothing to compliment the designs she had drafted for Luka. Everyone had a positive response and she had just enough people for a full collection, Marinette was sure to blow this project out of the water.

- - -

Luka stared down at his phone with a smile. As far as first impressions go, he didn’t think negatively of Marinette. It was easy for the musician to recognize the spark of creativity making her blue bells shine and the dark circles the byproduct of sleepless nights from the muse keeping her awake to do her bidding. Her song was the dead giveaway, it was beautiful but unfinished with the crash of crescendos and decrescendos in spots, showing she was afraid to stay loud and bold.

“That had better not be another cat meme.” Juleka muttered, sliding into the booth across from him.

“Nope, I just got asked to undress for a pretty cute girl.”

“What girl wants to see you naked?”

“Not naked, she wants to dress me up.” Luka corrected, waving the waitress over so they could order. “Caramel cappuccino and one hot fudge vanilla shake.”

“Design student or art student?” Luka had no trouble hearing his sisters mumbles, even over the din of the coffee-shop.

“Design student, I guess she felt a good vibe with the music I was playing and she got bit by the creative bug.”

“Not the only one that got bit.” Juleka smiled innocently as the waitress set down their drink orders. “When’s your first fitting?”

“I don’t know, I told Marinette I would text her my schedule for the week once I figure it out.

"Well them, you had better bring me back an eclair and a chocolatine, try the macaroons.” With that cryptic advice, Juleka took her drink and left her brother confused. A ding from his phone had him opening a picture of a very familiar face forwarded from his sister.

Is this the ‘go get em tiger high-five from you?

You hurt her and you’ll answer to your future sister-in-law.

Thanks for the vote of confidence.

#lukanette-exchange #lukanette 2020 #marinette dupin cheng #marinette freakout #luka couffaine #flirty #lukanette endgame

29 notes · View notes