xibaha

[eddwardharrison]

Did ya say... Dandy's World?? I love that game so much! What's your favorite things from it?

Everything about these men.

I was in this fandom faaar faaar before it got huge and suffering off of a few hundred players, when we found out about Rox we redesigned a lot of the characters and made an entire storyline we still work on today. Even though Rox is gone, I’ve grown too attached to the designs I have now and refuse to toss them away!

All of these doodles are pretty old by a few months. (Every photo is older than the last)

We have our own idea of the lore called the Clone Theory. In short terms, The Toons are all mass produced as a mini army and sent down into the floors to fix what Dandy destroyed. Unfortunately, it’s only making the problem worse. The original, First Toons are also down there…Dandy is trying to find them again, but hadn’t had any luck…until years later, he made it to Floor 42, where he realized he had finally found Astro.

[whumble-beeee]

Whumptober2024 | Day 9 | The Bee's Whumptober Masterlist

The Giant Won't Save You

AI-less Whumptober: Hypothermia, heatstroke, “You look pretty pale.”

Whumptober: OBSESSION | Broken Window | Bruises | “Frame me up on the wall, just to keep me out of trouble.” (Fall Out Boy, Irresistible)

* * * * * * * *

“You're so beautiful,” the creature boomed above them. “I've been looking for a specimen like you for years, no, decades, you're going to revolutionize–..”

Their voice practically cut through whumpee's eardrums, shook their entire soul in their chest as they sat shivering and pinned in the giant's warming hands. They knew they should run. They knew they should fight the hands and bite and kick and punch until they were free to fly away. Right back out into the cold. Into the frigid air that practically pierced through their skin.

Made them unable to fly.

Unable to get home.

Unable to escape.

They should fight.

But they were so, so tired. Even the jumbling around of the giant as they ran who knows where didn't rouse them from the impending unconsciousness, the dip into the dark. The blackness closed in on them, just like the hand that had snatched their frigid and fragile body out of the freezing snow.

Then suddenly there was bright! And warm, even warmer, not just the hands enclosing them, but the very air around them was warm.

They must be in a home of some sort. A home of the giant's.

Their heart skipped a beat as clarity flooded through their head.

No.

No no no no NO.

They needed to get out NOW before it was too late.

They started kicking in the giant's grasp, and the giant recoiled slightly, their hold growing looser so that whumpee felt the joy of promised freedom. RIght before the hand closed around them even tighter, pinning them completely.

“OW!!” The giant cried. “NO, no, I'm sorry, no escaping for you. I need you here. And you're in no shape to be by yourself anyway! Just let me help you, I want you to be the best you can be!”

Whumpee wanted to cry. They didn't understand a single word the giant was saying, the language a constant patter of deep vowels and slewed gibberish. Pain and surprise laced through their voice as they reprimanded their tiny captive, but somehow, thankfully, not anger. If anything, there was a sort of tenderness to their booming tone. As if they were another Faery, speaking to one of their young.

Whumpee spotted a golden cage. They were headed right for it.

I'm going to be caged like an animal.

They tensed, frozen not by the icy freeze that still hung around their body, threatened their fleeting consciousness, but by stone-cold fear.

“Oh!” The giant seemed to remember something, then suddenly their course altered, and Whumpee was staring at a wall. Their energy continued to sap out of their body and into the imprisoning hand. “This is where you're going to go! Well, not now of course, just when you die. Hopefully that won't be for a long time...”

Whumpee's heart seemed to stop beating. Their eyes widened as they beheld the sprawling wall.

Wings. Butterflies. Pinned. Pinned up on the wall. Faery wings. All types of wings with little placards explaining in foriegn type and blocky, unrelenting letters, sprawling out and out seeming to go forever, so many wings, so many insects, their fragile blood seemed to all but drain from their face, they shook at the sight, so many wings so many wings, they looked like whumpers wings was this what was going to happen to them was the booming giant going to hang them up alive and let them suffer pinned up until they die?? They fought and they fought within the grasp but it did absolutely nothing and they still remained pinned in the vice grip and their blackness threatened the edges of their vision, threatening to swallow them entirely, forever–

Then the wall was gone. They saw the cage. The booming voice of the giant rumbled through their body like wind through rickety tree branches, soothed their chest, filled their being as their limp body was laid among some sort of surprisingly soft furs and leaves and dry, comfortable down. They were still so cold.

“Sorry. Guess that must've been upsetting, I should've guessed. I'm not going to hurt you, though, I promise. You're safe here. You've had a long day now, so just go to sleep, recuperate, get warm... Science is going to love you, little creature.”

Whumpees head laud heavy against the plush they laid upon. They tried to move, but their body simply shook with violent protest. The cage door closed gently, almost daintily between the giant's forefinger.

They settled deeper into the cushions. So comfortable. Thr darkness swirled around them. Inviting. They really should try to escape–...

They jerked awake. Had they nodded off? No. Dont–... dont–... dont give in don't let it–

Then they fell away into a warm, plush, comfortable nothing.

* * * * * * *

Whumptober Taglist: @whumperofworlds | @whumptober-archive | @regular-whump-sfx | @whumpninja

(If you'd like to be added or subtracted from the taglist, don't be afraid to ask!)

[meret118]

But what’s happened now is that this has happened so often with so many shows, that Netflix has created a self-fulfilling loop with many series that probably could have gone on to become valuable catalogue additions otherwise.

The idea is that since you know that Netflix cancels so many shows after one or two seasons, ending them on cliffhangers and leaving their storylines unfinished, it’s almost not worth investing in a show until it’s already ended, and you know it’s going to have a coherent ending and finished arc.

So you hold off watching new shows, even ones you might otherwise be interested in, because you’re afraid Netflix will cancel them. Enough people do this and surprise, viewership is low! And the show ends up cancelled. The loop is closed, and reinforced, because now there’s yet another example cited, causing even more people to be cautious the next time around. And now we’ve reached a point where unless a series is some sort of record-breaking fluke megahit (Wednesday) or established super franchise (Stranger Things), a second or third season feels like not even a coinflip, but more like 10-20% shot, at best.

Netflix’s cancelation policies have informed its viewers that if you want a show you like renewed, you need to watch it immediately, you need to tell all your friends to watch it immediately, and you need to finish all episodes in a short period of time. Anything less than that will result in likely cancelation, with the problem being, of course, that this runs contrary to the entire promise of a streaming service like Netflix in the first place. The core concept of “on demand” streaming was that ability to watch what you wanted, when you wanted to. But now binging a series in its opening weekend isn’t just an option to have, it feels almost mandatory, lest the negative data reflect poorly on a show you might otherwise like.

Something has broken with this model. It’s now created a system where creators should be afraid to make a series that dares to end on a cliffhanger or save anything for future seasons, lest their story forever be left unfinished. And viewers are afraid to commit to any show that isn’t a completely aired package lest they spend 10-30 hours on something that ends up unresolved, which has happened dozens and dozens of times, creating a vast “show graveyard” within Netflix, full of landmines viewers are going to be discovering for years.

More at the link.

------

I've wondered if it's driving creators to their competitors too.

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

Warnings: Smut, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, slight fluff, dominant Penelope, threesome, some comfort, plus sized reader, self-esteem issues, slight anxiety, and NSFW.

Pairings: Colin Bridgerton x Penelope Featherington x Female Reader

Wordcount: 1,926

A/N: Hi! This is my first piece of fic (trash) into the Bridgerton world. I’ve never read any fics, haven’t seen all of the show yet. I’ve only recently gotten into it because of Penelope/Polin. Hope you enjoy, and I look forward to producing more content (likely turning this into a storyline)!

Your hands feel cold, slick with an icy sweat that seems to evaporate into heat. The more you seem to fold into yourself, she can recognize and wrap her fingers in your own. It is a comfort, however, also a reminder, as your fingertips would brush across the diamond she bears. He is not meant for you, she is not meant for you. They belong to one another.

You have to remember why you were brought to their home in the first place. And ultimately, what you do to earn your way in this life. That would surely shame their family name if anyone were to see you here, sneaking through corridors in the middle of the night with the newly married Penelope Featherington — now proudly assuming her Bridgerton name. Your thoughts are shaken from you, as you round the corner, stopping short at the buttery glow of light spilling from beneath the doors. You edge away slightly, spare hand reaching to clutch your sleep attire closed.

“You know that we will not object if your mind has changed.” She speaks with a soft reassurance, the nail on her thumb scratching along your palm.

That is the most odd thing — an emotion, in which you cannot process yet. A connection you’ve already established with them. It prevents you from shying away, from objecting. You’re shaking your head, inhaling rather sharply. “I do not have very many reservations, Mrs. Bridgerton —“

“ — Penelope, please?”

You can do nothing but smile in return. “Penelope. Forgive me, I suppose my curiosity has taken a walk with my nerves tonight. But I will not let it get the better of me. I still want this. To give what I can, to you and to your husband.”

She stops short of those doors and takes both of your hands into her own. She’s a picture of this fine, smooth porcelain, so full and perfect that you could spend hours worshipping if given the chance. Maybe that night is tonight?

Her voice is roping you back in. “This is a mutual thing that Colin and myself have agreed upon. It is not just about us. This consent you’ve given, it does not extend only to our pleasure, but also to your own.”

You’re inhaling sharply, understanding her implications, but unsure why. Your role is to give them whatever they need and then go. And this is what they’d like? It’s as if time stops when Penelope wraps her dainty fingers around the door handle, pushing, the force bringing your dressing gowns a few inches off of the floor by their hems. If you thought that was something, the sight that you’re greeted with is enough to wake your entire bloodline from beneath the soil.

Candles are draped around the room for more than just the ability to see, giving it all a personal ambience. This is their personal bedroom, not a study, not a hidden place, but where their marriage bed is located. Your mouth becomes parched as you look around to truly take it in, the doors closing behind you not even startling you. Penelope stays close by, especially until you’re noticing him. He’s patient, a slight smile pressed into his beautiful mouth.

“Good evening, ladies. I take it we’re alright then?”

It’s that honey-hot depth that captivates you, causing you to reach back to Pen, seeking her support. She encourages you to meet her husband in a few short feet. He’s clad in his cream colored night shirt, his silhouette shrouded in candlelight. His hair has grown out a little, a slight touch of curl sweeping across the top. Their radiating body heats caging you in, it’s a feeling you are sure won’t ever occur again in your lifetime.

“Mr. Bridgerton. Good evening, Sir.”

He grins as though a feather has tickled the crafted end of his jawline. Penelope shares a fond look over your shoulder.

“No need for formalities. It’s safe in here, I promise you.” Penelope is nodding as his arm raises, one eyebrow to gauge your permission. You don’t object. And his rather large hand is caressing your cheek, stifling the air inside of your lungs. “Call me Colin, yes?”

Like the sweetest of sugar, his name rolls off your tongue without pause. “Colin.”

Penelope’s hands find your shoulders from behind, sliding around your collar to dip in, caress your skin. You swallow, but accept. “Whatever you wish to do, you have my permission.” Your head briefly attempts to look over your shoulder as you also address her. “The both of you.”

~*~

It hadn’t taken long for things to progress between the three of you. When Colin’s mouth found your own, Penelope had slowly unraveled your gown from your torso, everyone holding their breaths as it hit the floor. Your chin became pinched beneath his sturdy fingers, tilting until he had access to your neck. Pen’s hands aimlessly wandering with what you thought wasn’t a purpose, just an exploration. How wrong you’d been the moment that her hands had found your full breasts, ever-so-gently caressing your areola.

It wasn’t that she was experienced in her movements, no. It was how eager she seemed to touch you, to have your body beneath her grasp like this. And it only added energy on top of the mounting tension already in the room. You did not have to guide, nor teach. Colin maneuvered, gave his wife space to learn, to feel another woman’s body.

He’d coaxed her around, taking her previous placing behind you, her pupils had encased her irises into an inky black velvet. The way her mouth had become swollen from biting her full, lower lip, her hands unable to stop touching you. In the end, you closed the gap, Colin caressing the nape of your neck as you kissed his wife with fervor. It was beautiful, the two of you. Your shape wore a little more weight than Penelope’s, but it was exceptional, in his eyes — seeing women that could not see the beauty in themselves, lost in one another this way.

He could only hope that you’re both seeing it now, as well.

As you’d broken apart, Colin stepped to the side, voice a bitten rasp, offering both hands. “Shall we take this to bed?”

~*~

You aren’t able to breathe correctly, breasts heaving, legs wide open to make room for him, for her.

The second that they had laid you down, that he had undressed his wife and kissed her, he whispered something in her ear. She’d gone red, but nodded and joined your right side. You tried not to let languid anxieties find their way inside, tried to remain proper when he had stood before you, bedside — all hard muscle, trim hips that held his length in between. He would be a fit, even for you.

He’d licked his tongue at the corner of his mouth, inhaling rather sharply, his hair covered chest already drenched in desperate perspiration. “I am going to show Pen how to touch you between your thighs. Will you let me — us, will you let us?”

How her hand looked in his as he guided, separating two fingers and sucking them into his mouth, causing a not so proper word to leave your lips — it’s surely a sight that could cure those without clear sight. The way their lips had parted when her finger breached your opening, sliding into your wet heat, knowing how it felt for the first time. She’d moved to his ministrations along your jugular, everyone entangled in a pulling, a pushing, more. Heavens, more. You had felt the tears glisten in your eyes, melt into your lashline, cooling on the air.

Colin had asked if you were alright, to which you drug him by his wrist, cupping his palm over your breast. “Please, please.”

~*~

The way the ceiling looks above you, you cannot see through your hazed over vision. The candles burning, melting down, you are not concerned with. Even the summer’s rain that has begun to pour on earth, there is no room to ponder. What you’re thinking of within this moment, it is the man between your legs, one hand held behind your crown, the other holding onto your waist as he moves so deeply inside of you, precise, wonderfully intricate thrusts, that discover a place in your body that you weren’t aware existed. Why should you? No client had ever taken this much time, nor care for what your body felt.

It was never about that. You were there to serve, purpose fulfilled, you left tattered and empty. But with Colin and Penelope Bridgerton? You aren’t sure what this is. The singular certainty that you do have, however, is that you do not wish for this to end.

There’s a fire in Penelope’s eyes as she sees you holding back a brewing question, your hands shaking. The one wound around Colin’s shoulder, the other that you have currently working between her legs. She can barely hold it together, beautiful and angelic to you, keeping you able to take her husband without issue. She is nodding at you, knowing what you need. You’re past that point, coasting over realms undiscovered, heavenly worlds that only Colin Bridgerton has directions to, powers to unlock.

She removes her hands from you both, dipping them down to his bottom, feeling, grabbing, and that moan drips from her like the cream that’s accumulated across her thighs, and she pushes, locks in tight. Like he’s under command, under her spell, his hips take you faster, harder — giving you exactly what you could not ask for. You’re not sure who is louder at this point, but everyone begins to breathe harder, lungs exerted, hands finding one another. You clip onto his neck’s nape, your other hand finding Penelope’s soft, soaked mound, and he is gripping onto her breast, his spare reaching back to hold onto your hand that is on his neck.

Penelope reaches her peak first, how she tightens around your fingers, collapsing right into the pillow beside your head. It triggers you to follow, body briefly arching, throat unable to let out anything that is not a pitiful, intense cry. You’re swimming with this, ignited in a reality that you cannot imagine not having endured before. Colin tenses, his forehead finding your own, and Penelope is lifting to watch you to complete your peaks. He sighs himself into a drawn out whine, right into your open mouth.

And then it’s over, his full weight pressed into you. It’s like there’s instruments that have suddenly stalled and cast a curtain aside to let you hear every sound you’ve been ignoring, incapable of. Heavy rain, battering winds, and rushing heartbeats. You all take a thoughtful moment, before Colin is lifting on forearms. “You’re alright? The both of you?”

You concur with Penelope. Colin smirks, bringing your slick covered fingers, letting them work into his mouth. He sucks her essence free of you, and they lean to trade a kiss, before taking a place on either side of you. Pen reaches for the blankets, pulling them up and gently tucking you in.

“I believe I will ask Mr. Bridgerton to extend the invitation.”

You turn to Colin, a question written into your features. He doesn’t give you too much time to ponder. “You will stay with us? Tonight?”

It’s everything that you want, but also everything that you cannot ask for. Like a fool, you’re already falling lovesick.

What have you done?

[sonamytrash]

I Aim To Please.

Plumber Toji Fushiguro.

Porn trope Toji series, part 2 🖤

Part one here 🖤

Warnings: Smut, Plumber Toji x Fem!Reader, P in V, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding k!nk, pregnancy k!ink, no foreplay, Toji Fushiguro has a big dick, not proof read, trashy porno storyline, I don't know anything about plumbing, anything I learned about plumbing for the sake of this fic was through porn, reader you're a slut.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

It was a quiet Friday afternoon, and you had the weekend to yourself—or so you thought. You had finished work early, arriving back at your apartment having scheduled a plumber this afternoon.

The soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional chirp of a bird outside were the only sounds that filled the air. You felt a sense of calm wash over you as you slipped off your shoes and work attire, donning a baggy t-shirt and shorts before walking into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. The apartment was your sanctuary, a place where you could unwind from the stresses of the week. But, as you filled the kettle, you were reminded of the persistent drip from the sink that had been driving you crazy for days.

You had tried to fix it yourself, watching YouTube tutorials and armed with a wrench, but it was clear that your DIY skills had their limits. That's why you called in the cavalry—Toji Fushiguro, the plumber with a reputation for getting the job done swiftly and efficiently.

Just as you finished making your drink, the doorbell rang, and you took a deep breath to compose yourself before opening the door. There he was, tall and broad-shouldered, with a tool belt slung low on his hips. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, and his eyes, a piercing shade of brown, met yours with a professional yet alluring gaze. "Hi, I'm Toji," he said, flashing a smile that made your knees wobble just a bit. "You got trouble with a tap, sweetheart?"

You nod, stepping aside to let him in, trying not to stare too long at the way his muscles moved under his tight-fitting t-shirt. "Thank you for coming," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. As he passed, you caught a whiff of his aftershave—a faint scent of pine and mint that sent a shiver down your spine. "The problem's in the kitchen."

Toji nodded and followed you, his heavy boots echoing in the hallway. Once in the kitchen, he set down his toolbox and surveyed the situation. You pointed to the sink, feeling a bit self-conscious in your oversized t-shirt and shorts. "It's been doing that for a while now," you said, gesturing to the slow, maddening drip.

He leaned over, his muscular arm brushing against your side, and you felt an unexpected jolt of attraction. His closeness made the air feel thick and charged. He turned the faucet on and off again before he began to inspect the pipes under the sink. You couldn't help but watch the play of muscles across his back, the way his biceps flexed with each movement.

"Looks like it's just a loose washer," he said, his voice deep and reassuring. "It's an easy fix."

You leaned against the counter, sipping your tea as you watched him work. Truthfully you would usually leave workmen to their own devices, but it seemed a shame to miss out on the view. The way he moved with such confidence, his hands sure and capable, was surprisingly arousing. You felt your cheeks flush as you remembered the last time you had been intimate with someone—it had been months, and it was definitely not this handsome.

As he knelt, reaching into the cabinets, his pants tightened around his thighs, and you couldn't help but imagine what lay beneath them. He looked up at you, his gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary, and you knew he wasn't oblivious to the tension in the room.

Toji removed the faulty washer with ease, and the silence that followed was deafening. The air between you crackled with unspoken desires. "It's fixed," he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through your entire body. He looked up at you, his eyes dark and intense. "But it's going to take a few minutes to let the water pressure settle."

You nodded, your eyes lingering on his full lips. He took a step closer, and before you knew it, he had set his tools aside and was standing right in front of you. The heat from his body was palpable, and you could feel his breath on your skin. "Is there anything else I can help you with?" he asked, his voice a seductive whisper.

The question hung in the air, loaded with meaning, and you knew that he wasn't just referring to the plumbing.

Your heart raced as you set your tea down, the porcelain clinking against the counter. "I don't know," you replied coyly, your voice barely above a whisper. "What did you have in mind?"

Toji's smile grew into a smirk, his eyes traveling over your body with a hunger that sent a thrill of excitement through you. He took another step closer, and you could feel the warmth of his body against your legs.

"Well," he said, his voice dropping an octave, "I've got a few... tools that might be of use to you."

You felt a shiver of anticipation run down your spine as he reached out and lightly brushed your thigh with the back of his hand. His touch was like a spark that ignited a fire within you, and suddenly all you could think about was the heat of his body against yours.

"Maybe you could show me?" you offered, your voice breathy and hopeful.

Toji's smirk grew into a full-blown grin as he reached out and gently tugged on the hem of your shirt. "I'd be happy to, princess. " he said, his eyes never leaving yours.

You took a step closer, feeling the heat from his body, and the air between you grew electric. The flirting was no longer subtle. You bit your bottom lip, and he took it as the invitation it was. His hand traveled up your side, his thumb grazing the curve of your waist, and your breath hitched.

Without another word, he closed the distance between you, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer. His lips found yours in a kiss that was rough, his tongue demanding entry as he tasted you. You responded eagerly, your arms wrapping around his neck as you gave in to the lust that had been building since the moment he had arrived.

You could feel the fabric of your t-shirt stretching tightly across your breasts as he cupped them, his thumbs brushing against your hardened nipples through the thin material. A moan escaped your lips, and he took it as an invitation to deepen the kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before he sucked it into his mouth.

His hands traveled up to the hem of your shirt and with a swift tug, he lifted it over your head, revealing your lacy bra. He took a moment to appreciate the sight before unclipping it and letting your breasts spill into his waiting hands. His rough fingers tweaked and pinched your sensitive flesh, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You reached down and unbuckled his tool belt, letting it clatter to the floor. Your hands worked on the button of his pants, and when they were open, you slid them down to expose his boxers, the outline of his substantial erection straining against the fabric. Toji stepped out of his boots and shed his pants, leaving him in just his underwear, which he quickly discarded.

He lifted you onto the counter, the cold marble a stark contrast to the heat of his skin. His hands roamed over your bare thighs, making you gasp as he pushed aside your shorts and panties. The tip of his finger traced the wetness of your sex, and you bucked your hips in response, desperate for more.

"You're so fucking wet for me, already?" Toji teased, his breath hot against your neck.

You bit your lip and nodded, unable to form coherent words. "Mmhmm," you managed, your voice a breathy purr.

Toji chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming with desire. "I want to hear you say it," he demanded, his hand sliding up your inner thigh. "Tell me how much you want me."

You looked into his eyes, feeling a rush of boldness. "I want you," you whispered, your voice a seductive purr. "I want you to fuck me."

Toji's eyes darkened at your words, and his grip on your thighs tightened. "Is that right?" he said, his voice a gruff challenge. "You want this rough plumber to pound you like you're his personal fuck toy?"

You felt a thrill of excitement at his crude language, nodding eagerly. "Yes," you breathed, your voice thick with need. "I want you to use me."

Toji's eyes narrowed, his grip on your thighs tightening. "You're going to get exactly what you ask for, sweetheart," he growled, his voice full of promise. He stepped closer, the head of his cock nudging against your wet folds.

You could feel the head of his erection pressing against you, and you were still surprised by how big he was. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the feeling of being filled, but Toji didn't rush. He took his time, rubbing the length of his cock against your wetness, building the anticipation.

When he finally entered you, it was slow and deliberate, stretching you with a delicious burn that made you gasp, considering you had no prep from his fingers, it was no suprise that there was a stong to accompany the intrusion of his cock. He didn't stop until he was all the way in, his hips flush against yours. You could feel every inch of him, and it was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"You're so tight," he groaned, his eyes squeezed shut as he took a moment to adjust to the snug fit. You felt your body quiver around him as he began to move, his hips rocking into yours with a force that made the countertop creak.

The sensation of his huge cock filling you was almost overwhelming. It stretched you to the point of pain, but the pleasure quickly overtook any discomfort. You had never felt so full, so claimed. His movements grew more urgent, each thrust hitting a spot deep within you that had you crying out his name.

"Fuck, you're taking me so well," he grunted, his eyes locked onto yours. "You're made for this, aren't you?" His dirty talk only served to heighten your arousal, making you wetter and more eager for his rough, unbridled passion. "You're greedy cunt is taking all of me, every inch," he continued, his voice gruff with desire.

You whimpered, biting your bottom lip as he began to move faster, his hips pistoning into you with a relentless rhythm that had you clutching at his shoulders.

Toji's eyes were blazed with lust, "You like it rough, don't you?" he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "I could tell as soon as I saw you, that you like being pounded like the slut you are."

You couldn't deny it, and you found yourself moaning back, "Yes, yes, I do." Your voice was shaky, your body trembling with every impact. "Fuck me harder, Toji," you begged, feeling the edge of an orgasm approaching.

"That's it, take it," he grunted, his hips smacking against yours with each punishing thrust. "You're such a good little whore for me, aren't you?"

The words sent a thrill through you, and you found yourself responding in kind. "Yes! Yes, I am," you moaned, the dirty talk adding a delicious edge to the already intense experience. "Fuck me like you own me, Toji. Make me cum!"

Toji's pace didn't let up, his eyes locked on yours as he pounded into you. You could feel your body tightening around him, the beginnings of another orgasm building. The way he talked to you, the way he used you, it was all so new, so raw, and it was intoxicating.

"I'm going to fill you up," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "I'm going to breed you right here on this kitchen counter."

You gasped, the shock of his words mixing with the pleasure coursing through your body. The idea of him impregnating you was both terrifying and thrilling, a taboo fantasy that had you clutching at him even tighter. "Do it," you moaned, your voice barely a whisper. "I want to feel your cum inside me."

Toji's eyes lit up at your response, his strokes growing more erratic as he approached his climax. He leaned in closer, his teeth grazing your earlobe as he whispered, "You're going to get pregnant with my baby, aren't you?"

The thought of his seed filling you up, his child growing inside you, sent a fresh wave of desire crashing through your body. "Oh God, yes," you moaned, your nails digging into his back. The idea of being filled with his essence was too much to handle, and with one final, powerful thrust, you felt your body give way. You squirted everywhere, your juices spraying out around his cock and coating the counter beneath you. The intensity of the sensation was like nothing you had ever felt before, and you screamed out his name as your muscles clenched around him.

Toji grunted with pleasure, his eyes locked onto yours as he continued to pump into you. You could see the effort in his face, the way his jaw was clenched and his muscles bulged with the effort of holding back. "Atta girl, make a mess on my cock," he murmured, his voice thick with lust.

Your orgasm seemed to go on forever, your body convulsing around him until finally, with a groan, he buried himself deep and emptied himself inside you. You felt the hot spurt of his cum fill you up, and the sensation was like nothing you had ever experienced. It was raw, primal, and utterly exhilarating.

As the aftershocks of pleasure subsided, Toji leaned in and kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth with the same hunger he had shown moments before. His cock remained buried inside you, still pulsing with the last remnants of his release. You could feel his heart hammering against your chest, his breathing ragged and erratic.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, savoring the feeling of his warmth and the weight of his body pressing you into the counter. The kitchen, once a place of domesticity, was now a stage for your carnally charged performance. The scent of sex mingled with the faint aroma of mint from your tea, creating a heady blend that seemed to intoxicate you further.

"You're a naughty girl," Toji said, his voice still thick with lust as he kissed along your neck, making you shiver.

"Is that a compliment?" you teased, your voice light and playful.

Toji chuckled, his grip on your hips loosening slightly. "You bet your sweet ass it is," he said, his eyes raking over your bare chest. "I've never seen anyone look so fucking good with their legs spread on a kitchen counter."

You couldn't help but smile at his crudeness, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the aftermath of your orgasm. "And I've never had a plumber quite like you," you retorted, running your nails lightly down his back.

Toji chuckled, "I aim to please."

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone (Part 15) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 5.6k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY.

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Some Body Insecurity (Pregnancy Related); Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You and Jake work on your relationship. Jake is officially promoted to Lieutenant Commander

Series Master List

Master List

After you moved back into your apartment with Jake, the two of you spent the next week focusing on your relationship.

While the two of you weren't strangers, there was still plenty of relationship moments that you had skipped over before and after you got pregnant. And now was the time to figure all of that out before the baby came.

You talked about the past. Jake explained the steps that he took after he left home to protect himself and now, by extension, you and your daughter. He had already been to see lawyers in the past about protecting his assets and what money was legally his and what money was legally his parents' money.

You told him more stories about your parents and about how their lives impacted how you viewed raising your own child. About the safeguards that you wanted in place to protect either one of you. And to especially protect your child. Jake updated his will to ensure that everything he had went you and the baby. And you were in the process of updating your own when one slightly contentious subject popped up.

Who would be entrusted with your child if something happened to both of you.

It was a subject that you brought up initially, playing off your own fears from your own childhood. Jake echoed your concerns and shared your desire to have it all down in writing.

But the question remained: who were you going to ask?

“You want it to be your brother?” Jake guessed, resting his arms on his thighs.

“And you want it to be Javy?” you returned softly.

You stared over at Jake from the couch. Your arm was lazily draped over your bump as you lounged around in Jake’s shirt and a pair of your boy shorts.

“I would feel more comfortable with Javy, yeah, but this isn’t just about me.”

“Or me,” you agreed, sitting up. “We have to pick someone that we both agree on.” You leaned back and rested your hands on your bump, looking at Jake through your eyelashes. “Why do you want Javy and Nat?”

“Javy’s the only person—besides you and the baby—that I consider to be my family. And I trust both of them with my life. And I'd trust our child with them too.” Jake paused for a moment before asking, “Why do you want your brother?”

“Well, he’s the last biological family that I have left. And Emma and I are really close. And I know that they want to have their own family one day. Bradley can tell the baby stories from our childhoods and our parents.” You shared a look with Jake before continuing, “And I trust Javy and Nat with my life too, but I’m worried that with both of them being in the Navy and neither of them expressing an interest in leaving it or having kids, that our baby wouldn’t fit into their lives.”

Jake didn’t disagree with any of your points, but it didn’t change how he really felt about your preference. Even though he and Bradley had a chat after your and Jake’s fight where Bradley apologized to him, they weren’t best friends. There was still distrust on both sides, and Jake was worried that if the baby went to Bradley and Emma, then he'd be written out of the storyline.

And he knew that Javy and Nat would never do that to you.

“But I know that you and Bradley don’t have the best relationship,” you replied softly, careful with your words. “And I don’t want you to feel like you don’t have a choice in this decision. This is your baby too and we need to agree on a couple.”

“I don’t feel that I don't have a choice,” Jake assured you, causing you to nod. “It’s just . . . there’s some thinking to do.”

“We don’t have to decide today,” you stated, slowly getting to your feet. Resting a hand on your back, you walked over to Jake, who automatically placed his hand on the curve of your bump. “I think that I’m going to shower and get dressed for lunch. I feel all gross and sweaty after this morning.”

“Do you need help?”

“If you want, but no funny business,” you warned him.

You bumped him on the nose with the tip of your finger, causing Jake to grin, remembering the last shower that you took together.

“Yes, ma’am.”

~~~~~

“You know that I can still drive, right?” you reminded Jake as he drove to Penny's house.

“I know, but I like driving you around. It makes me feel like I’m doing something for the two of you,” Jake replied, making you swoon a bit. “And besides, you have more space over there.”

"Alright," you agreed as Jake threaded his fingers through your own. "But after your promotion ceremony, I can drive home so that you can actually enjoy it."

"We'll see how it goes," Jake replied as you neared Penny's house.

Jake parked on the street and the two of you walked together around the house. It was the first family event since your and Jake's fight and you were hoping that it went well. At least, better than the last few had gone. Giving Jake's hand a squeeze, you called out to your family, who were seated around the lawn furniture.

“There they are,” Penny stated, standing up from her seat and moving to greet the two of you. “How’re you feeling?”

“Sweaty,” you joked, accepting Penny’s hug. “Thanks for having us.”

“Don’t even start with that. You know that you’re always welcome here. You too, Jake,” Penny stated, offering him a quick hug too. She took the plate of sweets that you baked before ushering you over. “Come and sit. Dinner’s almost done.”

You and Jake took your seats on the couch beside Emma, who greeted you both with a kind smile. While the two of you chatted about your weeks, Maverick walked over to you and Jake.

"How's the little birdie?" Maverick asked, referring to your child.

"Getting more active," you replied, accepted Maverick's hug and the bottle of water with a thankful smile.

"And you ready for your promotion, Jake?" Maverick questioned, handing him a beer.

"I guess," Jake replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "Not really much else to do except show up at this point."

"Yeah, I always found that the week after always ended up being more stressful than the week before it. Because then it all sinks in," Maverick stated, taking a sip of his beer and raising an eyebrow when he caught your look. "What?"

Bradley called out that all of the grilled items were done, and everyone got up to make their plates. The six of you ate in relative peace. There was still some tension there. Bradley and Jake were actively avoiding each other, but it was better than glaring at each other, so you would take it. As Emma told you about a wedding invite that she received from someone that you knew from college, Amelia came running down the stairs.

“What’s wrong?” Penny asked, standing up from her seat.

“My driving instructor cancelled,” Amelia stated, causing Penny to sigh and lower her head. “I’m not going to pass my test, Mom!”

“Amelia, you’ll be fine.”

“You won’t even let me drive to the bar, Mom,” Amelia replied, staring her mother down. “And I don’t think Rooster’s going to come driving with me again.”

“If you give me time to drink four more beers—”

“—Bradley,” Emma admonished, nudging her husband in the side. “She’s learning.”

“She hit the mailbox. Three, actually.”

“And you won’t let Mav teach me,” Amelia reminded her mother, folding her arms over her chest.

“For a reason,” Penny stated firmly.

“Mav taught me how to drive when I was her age,” you spoke up, reaching for your water. "And I turned out fine. I'm sure that she'll be perfectly safe with him, Penny."

“I can teach her,” Jake offered as soon as you finished talking, causing everyone to turn to him. He added, “But only if that’s okay with you, Penny.”

“Yeah, my test is in three weeks,” Amelia agreed, turning to her mom. “I need to practice.”

“Alright, fine,” Penny consented after a few moments of thought. “But no speeding. And don’t hit anything this time. Please.”

“Thanks for offering to teach her how to drive,” you told Jake, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “You didn’t need to do that.”

“No, I felt like I should,” he replied, squeezing your knee before getting up from his seat.

“Like you . . .?” you trailed off, running through the last few seconds of the conversation in your head. “Jake?”

“Hmm?” he asked, turning around after Amelia handed him the keys.

“Are you calling me a bad driver?” you asked him, frowning when you saw how his expression changed at your question. Now offended, you pressed, “Jake?”

“You did hit the garage,” Bradley reminded you, taking a long sip of his beer.

“Shut up, Bradley,” you told your brother before turning back to your boyfriend, who was quickly walking away from you with Amelia in tow. “Jake Seresin!”

“Sorry, I can’t hear you over the waves!” Jake called back, motioning to his ears as he and Amelia walked around the corner of the house. “I love you!”

Huffing, you sat back in your seat, folding your arms over your chest and pouted a bit. Rooster snickered to himself, earning a sharp look from you.

“Yeah, laugh it up, you big chicken. You stole the neighbor’s Playboy magazines and let Mav take the fall for it.”

And that got him to shut up.

“So, you guys are using the ‘l’ word with each other now?” Emma asked you, causing your frustration to leave your system.

“Yeah, we are,” you replied softly, a bit bashfully.

“So, everything’s patched up?” Maverick asked with an edge of parental concern.

"We're working through everything together," you stated, rubbing your bump with your thumbs. "And we've been doing a lot of planning for the future together. Wills, joint checking accounts, loan applications."

"All good steps," Penny told you with a supportive smile.

"So, you guys are looking at houses now?" Emma questioned, causing you to smile and nod.

"I'm hoping to get one in your neighborhood. So that our kids can go to school together," you admitted, causing Emma to beam. "But we'll see what we can find."

"We'll keep an eye out for any signs in our neighborhood."

"Thanks."

"So, you guys are buying a house together and doing all of these other things together," Rooster trailed off, sharing a look with his wife before asking, "Are you guys getting married then?"

"We've talked about it," you admitted quietly, glancing over at Penny and Maverick.

"And?"

"And when it happens, it happens," you replied with a shrug of your shoulders. "I mean, I'm due relatively soon. We'd have no time to plan anything. I'd look like a whale in all of the photos. And Jake could still get deployed without a lot of notice . . ." you trailed off, glancing down. "So, we'll just wait and see."

~~~~~

“Gently,” Jake told Amelia as she pulled into an empty parking lot. “You’re not a NASCAR driver.”

“Says the man who flies around in a fighter jet all day,” Amelia scoffed, driving into the parking lot. “Can we try backing into a spot? I really need to practice that.”

“Yeah, go over there.”

Amelia drove into the corner of the lot and stopped a bit suddenly, causing Jake to grunt as his seatbelt locked to prevent his head from slamming into the dashboard. Rubbing his chest where the seatbelt tightened, Jake turned to Amelia, who winced.

“I know, I know, easy,” Amelia sighed, slumping in her seat. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just straighten out and drive down the row like you’re going actually to park.”

Amelia followed Jake’s instructions and eventually slowed to a stop. Looking over his shoulder, Jake pointed at the parking spot that he wanted her to aim for. Walking her through the process of backing up, Jake guided Amelia through the maneuver, taking the steering wheel from her for a moment.

After Jake walked her through it again and she pulled out of her spot, Amelia tried to do it herself. But when she finished crooked, Amelia let out a groan of frustration.

“It’s alright. Just straighten out and try it again,” Jake coached her. “You just need to pull the wheel less before you move.”

Amelia pulled out of the spot and tried to back in again. Jake helped her straighten out the wheel properly as she moved into another parking spot. The second try was straighter, though there was still room for improvement. And by the sixth try, Amelia backed into the spot on her own. Once she put the car in park, both Jake and Amelia opened their doors to check the lines.

“See? You just needed a little practice,” Jake replied, closing his door.

“Thanks,” Amelia returned, shutting her own door. “Especially because I know that you’re just doing this to impress her.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure, you don’t,” Amelia replied, glancing over at Jake. “You know, you’re a lot better than my mom at this stuff.”

“I’m used to staying calm,” Jake stated, turning to Amelia. “And besides, your mom does a hell of a lot more than I could ever do. She's allowed one weakness.” He paused for a moment before turning back to the lot. “Who’s been teaching you how to drive?”

“Just my driving instructor, really. Mom doesn’t trust Mav to do it because she’s worried that he’ll teach me to speed.” Amelia turned back to Jake and asked, “Do you really think that your girlfriend is that bad of a driver?”

“No, not at all.”

“If I promise to not tell her?” Amelia rephrased.

“I’ll be driving our family every chance that I can,” Jake stated, causing Amelia to laugh. “But you said that Bradley went driving with you once?”

"Yeah."

"It was that bad?"

“He freaked out and only lasted about ten minutes.”

“That doesn’t shock me,” Jake scoffed, shaking his head. “About him, not you.”

“My mom thought that I gave him a heart attack.”

“He gave himself a heart attack over nothing, I’m sure,” Jake replied, turning back to Amelia. “Besides, you don’t even have your license yet. You have plenty of time to learn and improve.”

“Thanks. You too.” When Jake turned to Amelia with a questioning look, she explained, “For when you teach your own kid how to drive.”

“Oh,” Jake replied quietly. “Thanks.” Controlling his own emotions, Jake cleared his throat and pointed at the space in front of him. “You should probably learn how to parallel park too if you’re going to pass your driver’s test.”

~~~~~

“I’m just worried that I’m going to look ridiculous,” you sighed to Penny and Sarah, glancing at the racks of clothes in the store.

It was only a few days before Jake's promotion ceremony, and you still didn't have anything to wear to it. So, you enlisted the help of Penny and Sarah Kazansky to find a dress for the occasion. But so far, it was not going well.

“You’ll be fine. And no one’s going to think that,” Sarah Kazansky assured you from another rack.

“Will I? Have you noticed that more than half of the maternity dresses look like they just used the fabric that no one else wanted to wear?” you sighed, showing Sarah a dress from the rack that proved your point. "This print is giving me a headache."

“Here, try this one,” she offered, handing you a plain blue one.

With some help from Penny and Sarah, you collected a few dresses before walking back into the changing rooms. You tried on one that you picked and immediately cringed at your reflection.

“How’s it going?” Penny called through the door.

“Oh, great,” you called back sarcastically.

“Just come out in one. I’m sure that it’s not that bad,” Penny tried to convince you.

Stepping out of the changing room, you shot Penny a look as she tried to hide her expression behind her hand. Sarah, however, noticeably winced. You sighed, turned on your heel, and walked back into the changing room. After you went through all of the dresses that you picked, the three of you headed to another store.

“Jake will love you in anything,” Sarah encouraged you, as you started to look disheartened.

“He has to,” you sighed, inspecting another dress. “He’s the reason why I’m fat.”

“Here, what about this one?” Penny suggested, holding out another dress to you.

“It doesn’t look half bad,” you agreed, studying it.

“Go try it on.”

You walked into a changing room and pulled on the dress. Letting the zipper in the back hang open, you stepped out to show Penny and Sarah. Penny got up and zipped up the back of the dress for you before the three of you looked it over.

The fabric was soft and stretchy and not too heavy. It accentuated your bump and breasts without making either look too big. And with Sarah’s approving look, you knew that it would be appropriate for the promotion ceremony.

“I think we found it.”

You paid for the dress and then Sarah and Penny insisted on taking you out for a meal. Sarah asked all kinds of questions about the baby and your pregnancy and you, in turn, had some questions for her.

"What did you get Ice for his promotions? I haven't been able to come up with anything good to get Jake yet.”

“When he became a captain, I got him a nice watch. When he became an admiral, I got him a new desk for his office." Sarah reached for her drink with a small smirk. "And when he was promoted to Lieutenant Commander, I gave him a baby nine months later.”

“Aunt Sarah!” you groaned, sticking your tongue out.

"Well, you're already working on that one," Penny teased, causing you to hold a hand to your face. "You could always get him something related to the baby."

"But is that really a good gift for his promotion?"

"You know, one time for Ice's birthday, I took a few portraits with the kids so that he could take the photos of them with him if he got deployed or sent to conferences.”

“Jake did love the ultrasound photos,” you replied, mostly to yourself. Thinking it over, you smiled and turned back to Sarah and Penny. “I’ll think of something.”

~~~~~

“So, what exactly did you need my help with?” Javy asked as he and Jake drove into San Diego.

“I need your advice.”

“Thank you for narrowing it down.”

“I need your help with picking out a ring,” Jake stated, causing the sarcastic smile on Javy’s face to fall.

“A ring ring?”

“Yeah, a ring.”

“No, Jake. A ring ring? You’re going to buy the ring?” Javy repeated, turning to face Jake, who kept his gaze on the road. “You’re going to ask her to marry you?”

“That’s the plan,” Jake agreed, pulling into a parking lot. “But I need a ring first to do that.”

“You’re serious?” Javy asked, causing Jake to shoot him a look.

“Of course, I’m serious, Javy.”

"What made you suddenly decide to take my advice?"

"I had a lot of time to think while we were fighting and she wasn't there with me," Jake began, turning off his truck. Turning to Javy after a pause, he added, "And every dream where we were separated, of her looking at me like she did during our fight . . . I couldn't fucking bear it, Javy." Jake looked down at his hands for a moment. "She and our baby deserve the world, and this is just another step in me giving them that. I want to call her my wife and fucking hell I want her to call me her husband."

“I get it,” Javy replied with a proud smile. "You're finally growing up, Jake. I knew it would happen one day."

"Yeah, yeah," Jake scoffed, pushing Javy's hand off of him. "Now, come on. I still got to pick one."

Jake and Javy got out of his truck and made their way down to the jewelry store. Standing in front of the display case with all of the engagement rings, Jake tried to not get overwhelmed with all of the choices. It almost felt like a test. Would he pick one that you would wear and cherish for the rest of your life? Or would he just look like an idiot kneeling there?

"What's your budget?" Javy started off with.

"We're having a baby in three months," Jake reminded Javy, staring down at the rings. "And we're trying to buy a house."

"Should we go to Walmart then?" Jake shot Javy a look, clearly anxious, causing Javy to chuckle and turn back to the display case. "Don't shit your pants over it. We'll find the perfect one."

"I remember telling you that," Jake mumbled, studying more of the rings below him.

"Turn around is fair play," Javy joked, picking up a card that showed off the different cuts and sizes. "Here, does this give you any sort of idea of what to get?"

"This is her mom's ring," Jake replied, showing Javy a picture of it. "She held onto it until Rooster proposed to Emma with it and I think she still has that in her head."

"You're just going to get a replica then?"

“No, but something similar, I guess. We're not her parents, but I know that she holds onto their story. And she's already cried to me about them not being here and I just want to make her happy and feel like they're still apart of this whole thing."

"You need to save these little speeches for your proposal. Stop wasting them on me," Javy stated, though it made Jake smile to himself. "Alright, those ones are similar over there."

"Can I help you gentlemen with anything?" an employee asked as he walked over to them.

"He's buying an engagement ring," Javy explained, causing the employee to nod.

Jake pointed out a few that looked good to him and inspected them closely as the attendant listed off their details. Moving onto the third ring that he selected, Jake paused, admiring it.

It was a simple three stone ring on a silver band. The middle stone was fairly bigger than the surrounding stones, which gave the ring an intricate appearance. It was similar enough to your mother’s ring, but it was distinctly its own ring too.

And Jake quietly favored the three stone rings, since you were going to be a family of three shortly. It just felt symbolic.

God, he was turning into a sap.

"She'll love it, Jake," Javy replied supportively, staring down at the ring too. “And you already got her pregnant anyways, so she'll probably agree right away.”

"Thanks, Javy," Jake returned, rolling his eyes before handing the ring over to the attendant.

~~~~~

After some research and asking around, you decided to reach out to a local photographer to put together a gift for Jake’s promotion. You never really saw yourself as the type to get a maternity shoot done, but Jake loved the photos from your ultrasound so much that you felt like it just made sense.

Ringing the doorbell and waiting a bit nervously, you smiled when the photographer came walking over to the door. She unlocked it and let you inside, offering you a kind smile.

“Hi, I’m April. It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she greeted you, shaking your hand.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” You followed her back into her studio, your nerves building a little bit. "I've never done anything like this before."

“Not a problem at all. I'll walk you through the process."

April gave you a brief rundown of her equipment and how the photoshoot would go. You already sent her some references and April told you that you would work off of those and see what direction that the photoshoot would take.

“So, you’re doing these for your boyfriend?” April asked as she fixed the lighting.

“Yeah, he just got a big promotion at work, and this was sort of my best idea of what to get him,” you explained, setting down your bag.

"He's a pilot, right?"

"He's a naval aviator," you agreed, looking around the studio.

"I can see the appeal," April mused, hopping down from the ladder and walking over to her camera. "Alright, let's start with that long dress then."

You posed a bit awkwardly for a time but as you and April talked more about your baby and your relationship with Jake and she put on some soothing music, you grew more confident and comfortable with the photoshoot.

"Do you know if you're having a girl or boy?" April asked, straightening up.

"Not yet no. We wanted to wait. Or, I wanted to wait, I guess. I don't think he cared."

"Do you have a preference?" April questioned, lining up another shot.

"Well, I'd be happy either way. I just want the baby to be happy and healthy. But I have a suspicion that we're having a boy."

"Does he want a boy too?"

"No, he wants a girl. Of course, he'll be so happy with a little boy, but I just know he's picturing a little girl." Smiling to yourself as you looked down at your bump, you heard the sound of April's camera going off. "She would have him wrapped around her finger the second that he sees her. That's the thing about men in that kind of industry. They're all tough and macho and then they have a little girl, and then they turn into puddles like that."

April took another photo of you as you talked about your child and Jake before walking over to show you the results. As she slid through them, she smiled at your reaction.

"The best photos are usually the ones that you don't know are being taken," April replied, stepping back. "Did you want to do some more in the dress, or did you want to change?"

"I think those are perfect. Can we do those black and white photos that I showed you next?"

You pulled on Jake's white button up and a simple pair of black stretchy shorts. Buttoning up the shirt so that your breasts were covered but your bump was completely shown off, you returned to where April was waiting for you.

Repeating a lot of the same poses that you did before in your pink dress, you added some more that really focused on your bump.

"Have they kicked yet?" April asked, taking a close up of your bump.

"No, not yet. But we're counting down the days until it happens. My boyfriend always tries to get them to kick before bed, but he hasn't been successful yet."

"He sounds like he's really excited," April mused, taking another shot.

"He is," you agreed, smiling softly.

April walked over to her prop box and pulled out a toy plane. Walking back over to you, she placed the toy on your bump and with just a little sticky material, it stayed in place for a few shots.

You wrapped up the photoshoot and April uploaded the photos to a flash drive for you to take home. You picked a few photos to get printed in time for Jake's promotion ceremony as you contemplated doing a few more. Especially as you looked over the other references that April pulled out.

"Do you do a lot of these?" you asked April, pointing at one.

The woman in the photo was kneeling on the floor, her bump and a well-placed arm protecting her modesty. You had seen photos like that one before but thought it was too bold.

But now you were having second thoughts about it.

"A fair number," April assured you, causing you to bite your lip. "Did you want to try them out?"

"I'd feel weird about those getting printed," you admitted, causing April to smile.

"I print those in house, usually. Or I just do them with a Polaroid. Does that change your mind?"

You went and changed again, still a bit shy as you kneeled down on your mark. You knew that you weren't exactly anywhere near your most beautiful right now, but these photos were for Jake, and he only seemed to get more loving with you as you got larger.

Resting one arm over your breasts, you arched your back and held the pose from the reference shot. April directed you to turn your head a bit towards her.

“Now, imagine that he’s standing right behind me.”

You adjusted your head a bit more and changed your expression until April took the photo.

~~~~~

It was a scorching hot day in Miramar, and you were trying to focus on the ceremony and not how much you were sweating. Hoping that you didn’t already look like a mess, you started to fan yourself with the ceremony pamphlet.

“You alright?” Bradley asked quietly, leaning over.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled back, fanning yourself some more. “Just a little sweaty.”

“A little?”

You elbowed him in the side before focusing on the stage again. You knew that Jake was up next and you didn’t want to miss it. And when they called his name and he got his new pins, you clapped proudly with everyone else as he shook Cyclone’s hand.

The ceremony wrapped up shortly afterwards and everyone stood up, but you continued to sit, not wanting to have to push through everyone. Not when your baby was sitting uncomfortably and moving around at the least opportune times. So, you would just wait for him.

Jake shook hands with the high ranking naval officers, trying to politely move his way over to where you were waiting for him. Excusing himself, he weaved through a few more people before he finally spotted you sitting towards the back. You smiled and waved to him, continuing to fan yourself with the pamphlet.

Jake strode quickly down the aisle towards you. Taking your time, you slowly stood up from your seat as Jake slid into the row in front of you to get to you faster because there was no way that Bradley was going to move out of the way in time.

“Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander,” you told Jake, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“Thank you,” he mused, pulling you in for a soft kiss and resting his hand on your bump.

“There are other people around,” Rooster reminded the two of you, earning a pinch from his wife.

“Sorry we’re so far back,” you stated as Jake pulled away. “I was worried that I’d have to pee and need a quick escape route.”

“That’s fine. You’re drinking enough water, right?” Jake asked with a dash of concern.

“Yeah. And now I really need to pee,” you replied sheepishly, causing Jake to chuckle.

“I'll go with you,” Emma offered, standing up too.

“We’ll be right back,” you promised Jake, pressing another kiss to his lips.

You and Emma walked away, leaving Jake and Bradley alone with each other. Jake could have walked off, but he wanted to wait for you. So, he just stood there awkwardly with your brother.

“Congratulations,” Rooster stated calmly, standing up from his seat.

“Thank you,” Jake returned with a nod. Taking his cap off of his head, Jake tucked it under his arm. “I’m sure that the rest of the squad will get their promotions soon.”

“It doesn’t matter to me. I’m separating in six months,” Bradley replied seriously, causing Jake to blink with surprise.

“You’re not renewing?”

“No. Neither is Payback.

“Right,” Hangman spoke, rubbing the back of his neck. “Why now?”

“Emma and I agreed to start trying for a baby in a few months. I’m already working towards my masters and Mav has a friend who could get me a job in the city once I finish it.”

“Have you told everyone?”

“She already knows,” Bradley stated, causing Jake to glance in the direction that you left in. “I’ve already accomplished everything that I wanted and now I’m ready to be home with my wife and our future kids. And maybe a dog if I manage to convince her.” Bradley scratched his cheek before dropping his hand. “We’ll tell everyone else after your baby’s born and things settle down.”

“Congrats to you too then,” Jake responded quietly.

“Thanks.” Bradley shifted his weight on his feet before asking, “Did they give you your orders yet?”

“Not yet. But I’m dreading it already.”

“Nothing you can do about it,” Bradley reminded him.

“No,” Jake agreed quietly. “Doesn’t make it easier.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

They didn’t say much more than that, but there was a silent understanding that passed between them. Jake looked up as you came walking over with Emma.

“You good?” you called out to Jake, noting his smile was slow to return.

“I’m good,” he assured you, pressing a kiss to your head. “I’m very good.”

“For the love of—”

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[54625]

What I want out of a QSMP season two.

(Some of these points may be a little divisive - it's just my personal opinion. Content creators will be referred to as players for conciseness. QSMP as it has been for the past year, for the sake of this post, will be referred to as "season 1".)

1. TAKE A FUCKING BREAK.

I do not want to see the QSMP coming back in less than two months at the very, very least. Five or six months to a year is ideal, in my opinion.

This is for a few reasons. Firstly, the obvious; I want Quackity Studios to take the necessary time to make 100% sure that everyone who has worked, does work, or will work for them is compensated. Not just this, but I want the communication among the studio to become streamlined and consistent, for the purpose of maintaining the quality of the SMP, the quality of life of the employees, and entirely avoiding a repeat of the previous situation. Any less will be unacceptable, and prove that all people in charge, including and especially Quackity himself, have not learned their lesson.

Secondly, I am very sure that a lot of players will lack or have completely lost their motivation for the QSMP, due to the nature of the last few months of season 1. I am sure that those who had a lot of lore written up and had to scrap it or cut it short are probably still quite sore about it, and may not have the energy to pick the QSMP story back up. This is especially true if they had already given their characters a canon ending and don't want to overshadow it. When creating a new SMP, or a new season of an SMP, you first and foremost need player motivation to be high. Waiting several months would ensure that the wound of player lore being ruined would have mostly healed over by the start of season 2.

Thirdly, viewer engagement will always be an important thing to take into consideration when creating an SMP that will be televised. The large majority of QSMP fans are completely burned out from watching. Leaving a large gap between seasons 1 and 2 would let fans, who have had an exhausting last few months, recover and reset. It will also allow hype and anticipation to build up when things eventually start being teased and announced again. Fans have a lot of disdain for this project at the present moment, and waiting for a while between seasons will not only let fans know that serious action is being taken behind the scenes, but also will let the sour attitude a lot of fans have right now wear off over time.

2. RESET. FOR REAL THIS TIME.

Probably my most controversial take on this topic will be; I fully believe that if a QSMP season 2 is to occur, it should be a completely new server. By completely new I naturally mean a new map, but also ZERO LORE CONTINUATION. I know this is a hot take, but I personally believe QSMP season 2 is a perfect chance for a completely fresh start, and a fresh start cannot happen if it still takes place in the same universe.

We all know that season 1's lore was overwhelming, slightly confusing, and at the end of the day, completely disjointed. We all fell in love with the terrifying Federation and Codes, yes, we all loved the basis of the story; a group of people from different countries get stranded on a "perfect" paradise island controlled by a governmental body that won't let them leave, and have to work together; but at the end of the day, the lore of season 1 became messy. Very messy. Instead of trying again and again to salvage it, the best option is probably to just start again.

Put the same players in a different map, give them a completely different premise, and let the lore unfold anew. Which leads into my next point.

3. PLAYER DRIVEN LORE.

Let the players develop the story. If a player has an overarching storyline they are unfolding themselves, prioritise letting them do so. All of the best lore in season 1 was player created, and player enacted; Cellbit's regret arc, the happy pills, Cellbit's murdering Fed workers arc, literally everything Fit ever did, Roier's lore, ect ect ect. Server admins should only intervene in player's lore when directly asked, and big changes to the server's status quo should only occur when there is no active lore to be interrupted, everyone agrees it should happen, and it would actively drive engagement up, rather than down.

The best case scenario for a QSMP season 2, in my opinion, is for the server admins and Quackity to come up with an exciting and engaging premise for a brand new universe with brand new characters, to place the players in an interesting themed map, and just let them loose. Let the lore build naturally, and see what comes of it.

IN CONCLUSION.

I vehemently disagree with people who believe the QSMP should not have a season 2. The QSMP is a brilliant idea, and its noble goals shine through all of the incredible friendships and memories it, and only it, made. There is no other server like QSMP.

The act of uniting people from all over the world has been proven to be an extremely important and worthwhile goal. I, genuinely, admire Quackity for his passion in this, and for understanding that this thing should not be easily given up on or let go. Drastic changes need to occur, but the QSMP is bigger than just a Minecraft server; it represents so much unity, community, and love.

It is worth saving.

I hope, desperately and for the sake of everyone involved, past future and present, that the QSMP can come back better and stronger than ever, continuing to further its goals; to tell amazing stories, to forge impossible friendships, to spark joy and laughter, and to bring people together no matter the barriers keeping them apart.

Thank you for reading.

[fractualized]

"#if the depiction is aware of the context of this image #and why it's so fucked #then yeah I'm into it"

well I'm not aware of the context but now I'd like to be 👀

Haha, oh boy. Apologies for how long this is, but I felt some context is useful. (And there's even more context than all of this!)

Alright, so here again is the panel in question:

Out of context, we have Bruce praising his friend Clark for making him believe in the impossible, and Clark happy to have a friend who believes in him.

In context...

This image is from Justice League (2018) #25, which takes place in the lead-up to Dark Nights: Death Metal. The full storyline, "The Sixth Dimension," starts in #19, but long story extremely short, in their attempts to find a viable plan to stop the consequences of breaking the Source Wall that surrounds the multiverse, the League finds themselves going up against another version of the League in a future dimension of their own multiverse, except for Clark, who is trapped on a dark planet in a pocket universe.

Silver Fox Clark turns out to be the World Forger. He says that the perfect world he's shown the rest of the League up to this point is the only version of the multiverse where the League ensured the multiverse's survival. They did so by determining which beings would side with doom instead of justice, and then locked up or killed all those beings to ensure the multiverse survives judgment. (If you want any of this to make more sense, you'll have to read Snyder's whole multiverse thing.) To prevent the impending calamity, the World Forger wants to replace the present multiverse with this future one.

The League refuses, of course… except Batman expresses doubt. So the World Forger sends the others to be imprisoned on Apokolips, but he talks with Bruce one-on-one.

The World Forger says Bruce needs to convince the rest of the League. He also says that it's possible Clark will escape the dark planet, and no doubt doom the whole plan.

And Bruce chooses.

DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNNNN

So that's bad! Also, to make it worse, we learn that Future Bruce achieved this future by brainwashing everyone before he died, but that's a weirdly small detail.

Of course the League escapes Apokolips and find themselves battling not just the World Forger and their future brainwashed selves, but Batman. During this fight, Bruce tries to convince his team that the World Forger's plan is the only way they can save everything. In the meantime, Clark is struggling to complete the flight out of the pocket universe.

Clark gets to the suns via the power of will and love and all that good stuff, and he makes it back! He stops the World Forger from overwriting the multiverse, and then Bruce explains his thinking.

Yay! They found another way forward! So let's just glide past:

1) Bruce agreeing not only that the World Forger's plan was likely their only chance, but that the League had a better chance of winning if Clark died. 2) Bruce giving Clark a chance to prove his doubt wrong by pushing the suns further away from Clark. It was entirely up to Clark if he had the hope and will to travel even further than he originally had to in order to get back. (I keep thinking that Bruce had to have meant he figured out how to put the suns in a better position for Clark to get to them, but he explicitly does not say that.) 3) How if Clark didn't manage to make it back, Bruce was fully prepared to align with the World Forger and brainwash his friends.

Admittedly, yes, if you read the whole storyline, there are many pages of Clark struggling to get out of the pocket universe, even before Bruce moves the suns. The reader is meant to understand that Bruce pushing Clark even harder is what made this victory possible.

But that doesn't mean that Clark responding like "aw, shucks, thanks" isn't wildly fucked!

To be clear, I'm not saying there aren't superbat fans who share the initial panel because they like exploring how Bruce's bonkers behavior affects Clark, and how that behavior gets repeatedly dismissed as Bruce just being a loner with a heart of gold. But when that image gets posted in isolation, inevitably some of the people who share it will be those who prefer a rosier view of superbat, and sorry, it's just funny.

Read comics: you'll understand more, and it'll ruin everything!

[mandaplease10]

A Polin Take Nobody Asked For #5

*Penelope & Colin Aren't Friends*

Once again, there are complaints about how Pen & Colin were never actually friends because we never see them be friends. We're simply only told they are friends and now we're supposed to believe Colin loves her after saying he would never court.

Well, I am here to tell you why that is wrong. Oh and someone on twitter claimed this season has no narrative... like are we watching the same show??

FYI this is a long post!

Season 1:

Colin dances with Penelope after Cressida spills a drink on her. Even before this, he sought her out to have a conversation with her.

There are several times we see Colin and Penelope speaking at balls or gatherings.

Penelope tries to tell him about Marina and he is grateful for her friendship and care, but he doesn't listen to her because he thinks he knows Marina. Yet, he still took the time to hear her out for the most part.

Once Marina's secret is revealed, Colin apologizes to Pen and recognizes she was just trying to look out for him.

Colin goes traveling the first time because of Pen inspiring him to do so.

Colin singing in the drawing room and lowers his voice/stars at Pen when she walks in.

Season 2:

Their letters - This is a huge element to their friendship and their storyline. Honestly, I would love to have seen what their letters entailed over the years. Maybe one day we'll have a scene of them going through their old letters or something.

Colin's arrival - hello! That look he gives her when he sees her there in the drawing room after greeting his family. I believe had Hyacinth and Gregory not rushed him and Anthony didn't walk in to go to the races, he would have walked over and said something to her.

At the races- he sees Pen and walks over to her. He initiates the conversation and talks about their letters until Eloise ruins the moment.

Another moment he initiates a conversation is when Pen assumes he met someone on his travels and he talks about how he 'found himself' thanks to her letters.

Lady Crane was right about you - He knows that Pen cares for him and is special in his life and the fact that someone else saw that made him open his eyes a little more.

Defending the Featheringtons - Colin stood up to his friend Will when he said something negative about Pen's family and then again when he realized Jack was scheming around.

You are special to me. I will always look out for you - HELLO! Yes, Colin has a hero complex, but he doesn't do this for everyone! He doesn't seek out to help Cressida or other women of TON, but he risked standing up to a "Lord" to save Pen's family from ruin.

You are Pen. You are my friend - Colin literally calls her his friend and holds her above just another woman. Yes, in this moment she was sort of friend zoned, but the fact he still wanted her in his life, means something.

"I would never court Penelope Featherington" - Yes, this was not a good look, but this was also Colin trying to put on a facade in front of the gentleman. Plus, I also believe that in his state of mind, what he was doing and how he is around Pen, is just how they are together, yet in other's eyes, it was very much courting action.

Season 3:

His arrival - Immediately looks for Pen and when he doesn't see her, looks towards her house confused as to why she isn't present.

The Gardens - Smiles when he sees her and is eager to talk to her, upset when she cuts their conversation short.

The ball - Stares at her and watches her from afar and rushes after her when he sees her in distress.

Goodnight Mr. Bridgerton - Tries to joke around with her and have a friendly conversation, but realizes something is wrong. Feels horrid when he realizes why she is upset with him and wants to talk it out, gets upset when she leaves.

The Featherington Garden - Again, he seeks her out because he wants to make things right with her. THIS ENTIRE SCENE IS PRACTICALLY A WHY YOU ARE SPECIAL AND MORE THAN A FRIEND TO ME DECLARATION. If you actually watch this entire scene, you will see that there is genuine friendship and love there.

The Meet Cute - Seriously, the fact that HE remembers how they met AND he was the one who brought it up, says A LOT.

The Drawing Room - He listened to her and brought her to a place that makes her comfortable. He even made sure it was during a time when they would be alone. Also, it is obvious he feels something during the touch of hands and her attempt at flirting with him.

The Ball - They have yet another conversation amongst the two of them and he encourages her to talk to someone. Then they have a laugh. A genuine laugh, one that she never really had with Debling later on... Then we have the little bouts of jealous Colin when she's speaking to Lord Remington. Then how angry he gets when the word gets out about him and Pen and how he rushes after her in worry.

The First Kiss - Once again, Colin is seeking her out... in the middle of the night... bribing her maid for alone time. Like... not just anyone does that. Colin only had to do the one kiss. The one peck because that was all Pen asked for, but guess what? He went in for another one and would have kissed her again if she didn't leave. We can tell on his face, that he felt something he never felt before.

The Dream - Most people don't have romantic dreams about their friends unless there are feelings there.

The Willow Tree - The awkwardness is everything and pure friends to lovers.

I could continue the rest of their moments, but I'm not going to because so many of the same people keep saying the only reason Colin wanted Pen is because of Debling, well guess what everything that I listed above is PRE DEBLING. Yes, there is that moment in episode 1, but it isn't until episode 3 when Debling actively tries to pursue Pen and vice versa.

So, yeah, Polin haters can keep complaining and trying to make excuses as to why they dislike the season, but the receipts are the there to debunk those claims.

[mattzerella-sticks]

Y'know what would be a good storyline coming out of Bruce taking on the mantle of Nightwing (briefly)?

If he enjoys it a little too much.

Nightwing is freedom. Nightwing is light. Nightwing is fighting bad guys while smiling laughing throwing out a funny quip.

Things he never gets to do as Batman.

So what if, after things have settled in Bludhaven and Absolute Power has come and gone, Bruce decides to make a short visit and help out again.

As Nightwing.

"People are used to seeing Nightwing in Bludhaven. It makes more sense for there to be 2 Nightwings than for Batman to be here," Bruce argues. "Besides, this will only help you. Make it seem like Nightwing can be there at any moment."

And Dick relents. For now.

Barbara finds it strange (as does Dick) but he waves off her concerns with, "it's just an appearance here and there. Besides, I've never seen him so happy."

Except the odd appearance "here and there" starts to become a consistent thing. And it reaches an apex when Bruce diverts an emergency call from the Titans and makes an appearance in Nightwing's stead and hangs out with them afterwards (they are a little put off by the total 180 in Batman's personality but don't tell him to leave).

I think Dick stages intervention one telling Bruce he has to go back to Gotham and stop being Nightwing because Dick is Nightwing and Bruce is Batman.

"Maybe I don't want to be Batman?"

And the issue ends with Batman renouncing Batman. Saying that if Dick thinks there needs to be a Batman, he should take up the mantle. It wouldn't be the first time. Which leaves Dick speechless.

The next issue picks up in Gotham with Damian fighting crime, getting ganged up on, when Batman descends and helps him out. Except this Batman is Dick.

They debrief and we also get an update on what's been going on with Gotham in the weeks, perhaps months, of Bruce being in Bludhaven and how the rest of the Batfamily are picking up the slack in his absence. We also see Dick picking the Batfamily's brains about what to do about Bruce, if anything should be done about Bruce.

It takes a conversation with licensed medical professional Harley Quinn to give Dick insight into what's going on with Bruce ("trying to feel young again") and how to shock him out of it ("Bats is a stubborn guy. Even if all of you kids gathered around and said how this was affecting you, he'd say that you weren't seeing the bigger picture or whatever other excuse he can think of. What you need to do is goad him into giving up Nightwing and going back to being Batman.")

So Dick corners Bruce one day in Bludhaven and presents a challenge. Rooftop race across the city. First one to finish is Nightwing. The loser is Batman. Bruce, drunk off playing Nightwing, cocky, agrees.

Cue the night of the race Dick and Bruce, both dressed as Nightwing, stand on the rooftop with Barbara between them. She drops the flag and they're off.

It starts with Bruce in the lead, it's been a while since Dick has run these rooftops, but as the race progresses Dick slowly takes the lead as Bruce's stamina wanes.

It also doesn't help that Dick has been chatting the entire time. First nonsensically which Bruce tries to keep up with as well, but as it goes on it's deliberate strikes at the reasons why Bruce is clinging to Nightwing and, in his exhaustion, in his still existing in the 'Nightwing' persona, Bruce actually engages in the dialogue Dick creates between them and the rapport is strong.

Dick gets Bruce to admit how Dick is the kind of person he wants to be and that he thought it was Batman holding him back, and if he dropped Batman he could be the kind of person worthy of having the family he does now.

Dick tells him that it's because of who Bruce was that Dick is the man he is now, and that Bruce has the potential to be like Dick in those regards even while being Batman.

Then Dick brings up Alfred, at the exact moment they reach the statue of Alfred in Bludhaven. A statue Bruce has been avoiding since he arrived. A statue which Dick had been leading Bruce to in the guise of their 'race'. Dick has Bruce confront Alfred and what Alfred wanted for Bruce and how it's a) things he already has and b) he's never too late to change who Batman is and can be.

Bruce takes off the mask and thanks Dick for helping him out, and they hug as the race is over. Dick has won. He is Nightwing. Bruce will go back to being Batman.

However, the night before Bruce is set to return to Gotham, he and Dick are getting ready to patrol Bludhaven together one last time, as Batman and Nightwing, when suddenly another Nightwing appears. And another. And another.

The entire Batfamily drops in wearing their own Nightwing costumes. "What?" Damian says, "we heard that all we need to do to become Nightwing is win a race. Who wouldn't jump at the chance for something that easy." And the story ends with Nightwing looking to Bruce, saying "Fine. One more time." Cut to a full page panel of Dick Grayson leading a throng of Nightwings across the Bludhaven skies.

The Midlife Crisis event is over.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Can we please get a yandere alucard part 4 🥹🥹 Prettyyy Pleassee 🥹🥹🙏🙏

& Anonymous D asked: Is there a chance you will continue the yandere Alucard x reader storyline part 4? I’m sorry. I’m just so invested in the story. Your writing is good. - D

A/N: It’s been a while so I had to go back and reread/refresh myself. Here they are Part One, Part Two, and Part Three for you to read if you also need to catch up. Or you can use the tag: ‘yandere alucard’ on my blog to see all of the Yandere! Alucard-themed writings I’ve done. 

And a HUGE THANK YOU to @allthegoodbobdylanlyricsaretaken, my lovely beta-reader for this installment. Not only were they kind enough to offer to read this over for any grammar/writing mistakes, but they were so patient with me! I had writer's block pretty bad in the middle of this, and they were sweet enough to give me encouraging reminders. To them- I am so incredibly grateful! Normally, I finish something and just throw it up, so I want you all to know they are why this piece comes off as much more polished. 

I also wanted to thank @rl800 for commenting on Part 3, about how they hope Y/N’s father eventually gives Alucard some sort of blessing for a relationship with his daughter. I was initially planning on killing him off early, but because I like rl800’s suggestion better, I’ve changed my idea for this part to include Y/N’s father as a contributing character. Oh, and as always...

TW!: This is a fictional work about a fictional character. Manipulation and abuse in real relationships are never okay, and it’s never your fault. If you need help, please click on any of these: [x] [x].

Word Count: 3.2k 

If you’d like ambiance for this part, check out this link: [x]. 

*    *    *    *    *    * 

You were rather disheartened to learn that what your Father had was phthisis. 

The white plague. 

Of course, in the back of your mind, you supposed you had considered such reality a possibility, but you could not bring yourself to admit as much. You suppressed those sobering thoughts with various dissensions. 

If it was the plague, how come it wasn’t sweeping through the entire town? Why hadn’t you yet fallen ill? If it were truly a plague, then perhaps it was a milder strain?  

You had warded off accepting the unspeakable for so long that, even now that it was true, a good degree of your mind still refused to believe it. Surely, Alucard was mistaken in some way, despite his seemingly infinite wisdom. It simply could not be true. Then again, your heartache alone could not change the circumstances. 

You were grateful to be shown to your room quite soon after learning the true nature of your Father’s condition. The devastating revelation was the straw that broke the camel’s back— its brutality kicked you in the teeth— unveiling the weeks of fatigue that had been slowly gnawing at your battered bones. Besides the reprieve for yourself, you were extremely thankful to now have aid in caring for your Father, your cordial hosts’ compassion for your father’s condition released the short leash you had once ensnared yourself with, the one keeping you tethered to his bedside. Now you were free to sleep in your private bedroom, hell, on your private floor.

Seated on silky luxurious sheets, feeling the soft night shift’s fabric against your skin, you were forced to reconcile with the present reality: you were only a guest in this opulent room because your Father was ill, and at this point, there was nothing left you could do for him. In all honesty, it sounded as if there was little Alucard could do either. So much of the situation felt hopeless, despite your newfound companion’s assurances to the contrary. 

Alucard announced, quite casually, that should you need anything else, or if he could be of any more assistance to you, his bed chambers were just a few paces down the hall from your own. 

This sense of freedom was foreign to you, and it felt rather suffocating to be seated upon such a luxurious throw, all by your lonesome. Yes, you knew your Father was sick, and quite possibly contagious, but you had yet to catch anything at this point. What would be the harm if you spend an hour or two with him? For all you knew, you could have become immune to this illness. 

Earlier in the evening, you had asked Alucard if he truly expected you not to visit your Father. He firmly, but sympathetically shot the question down. 

‘It is still too great a risk to take,’ he had told you. ‘Your body needs time to be free from stress if you are to hopefully remain without illness yourself.’ 

The frailty of your muscles and the bags under your eyes made it obvious to you and Alucard that you were teetering on the edge of complete burnout. Should you continue to push through at the rate you were going, you’d no doubt join the ranks of your late family members. 

Nevertheless, the silken sheets and large feather-stuffed mattress atop a tester canopied bed did not stop the faint chill of loneliness from ghosting across your skin. You wondered briefly if your Father’s room looked like yours. Or perhaps, it was designed to be more medicinal than comfortable. Was he up thinking of you, just as you were thinking of him? 

It was late by the time your mind had ceased its seemingly endless racing, well into the early hours of the morning. Laid out flat on the bed, robed in a plain night shift with your hair uncovered, you felt an odd equilibrium of settled and aroused. 

You felt small in the extensive room. For example, there was a tiled area intended for bathing off the left of where you lay, separated from the wooden floor by an exquisitely hand-crafted partition. It was stocked with fresh towels, a matching wash-stand set, and pitchers of clean, warned water. Next to the washstand’s porcelain basin was a variety of bar soaps, each one a more exciting shade and scent than the next, and on the lower shelf was a series of glass bottles— shampoos, cleansing oils, and perfumes. Everything was in perfect order, arranged in such an inviting manner. 

The thought that Alucard took the effort to prepare such a collection just for you was almost disquieting. You had hoped he hadn’t gone to too much trouble securing such lovely items before your arrival, especially since it was rather short notice. Then again, perhaps these were just some things he happened to already own within the castle. The place was huge, after all. 

Honestly, you didn't know what would be more daunting, the thought of Alucard giving up his items for your sake, or the idea that Aluard hurriedly procured these new items with your freshly negotiated stay in mind. Both options felt significantly intimate; either act felt like a kindness you were unworthy of. 

As you formed a loose plan to kindly reject Alucard's lavish gifts and attentions, the man of the hour himself came to knock upon your door. 

*    *    *    *    *    * 

Alucard was beaming. No, he was more than beaming, he was practically flying. Well, not literally. Although, that would be no extraordinary feat for The Alucard, son of Dracula and Lisa Tepes. In his years as sole inhibitor and keeper of both Castlevania and the Belmont Hold, his wisdom and abilities flourished greatly, free from the looming threat of time that burdened the rest of humanity. His prowess had come to be unmatched, his dual heritage leaving little he could not accomplish. Alucard possessed the ability to conquer all things if he so wished; all things, except for one.

At the time this bold young woman had trespassed his home, it had been nearly a hundred or so years since the deaths of his last human companions. And while Alucard was not predisposed to loneliness, he was prone to fits of melancholy. 

Even though the castle was alive, it was quiet. It did not provide comfort or companionship the way a human would. Hell— at times Alucard found himself imagining what a close allyship with another vampire would look like among these vast hallowed halls. He certainly had no shortage of vampires and other supernaturally inclined beings desperately vying for the Great Lord Alucard’s attention. 

It was always futile, Alucard had come to learn. Vampires were paranoid and power-hungry by nature and rarely lived long enough to outgrow their newfound bloodlust. Young, power-hungry vampires who sought to usurp Alucard always came to meet the same swift, almost boringly inevitable demise. They did not present any real challenge to him, not anymore. 

It did pain a part of him. His human side, he supposed. Perhaps, it was the influence of his Mother’s memory, the way a sudden ache for companionship— a friend, a lover, an acquaintance, anything— would seize his heart at times. Mother wouldn’t have wanted him to be alone. She wished for him to be kind to humans, even if they could never understand him. She had always emphasized kindness when encouraging Alucard’s journey of self-discovery. Lisa Tepes knew her son would never become the kind of man her husband was, but she wanted Alucard to understand that it was okay. She did not wish for him to be defined by his relation to Dracula but by his relationship with humanity. 

It wasn’t that Alucard hadn’t tried— he had. For years, he had kept himself surrounded by humans, even after Trevor and Sypha, Greta, and the original descendants of Danesti had passed. But as humanity grew more evolved, and began to long for traditions and independence beyond all that his gothic castle could offer, he found himself alone for years in which there was little else to do other than take to his underground coffin and sleep to pass the time. 

His solitude had been weighing on him especially hard for the past several decades or so. But with his isolated routine so ingrained, Alucard could not see a viable way to invite a human into his life. He was aware that out there, perhaps even beyond what was once known as the independent region of Wallachia, several branches of the Belmont line continued to thrive. Of course, Alucard was certain he would be all but a myth to them at this point, something one of their descendants would speak of as they shared ancient stories around the campfire. 

In truth, he did not wish to seek them out. He did not wish to have to seek anyone out. 

Alucard wished that someone— someone worthy— would come to him. He had only found himself desiring such a circumstance for a little under a month when this strange woman, this (Y/N) made her way past his front door. 

‘Perhaps,’ Alucard mused, as he strode down the hallway between his and (Y/N)'s room, ‘There is a God after all.’ 

Balancing the tea tray in one hand, Alucard lifted his other to knock softly upon (Y/N)’s door. If she was already sleeping, he did not wish to wake her. 

Alucard felt a wave of relief wash over him as her melodious voice answered from the other side of the door. 

“Alucard? Is that you?” 

Amused with her question, Alucard opened the door with a carefree smile. “Yes. I’ve brought you some herbal tea. I assumed you would have difficulty adjusting to sleep in such a new environment.” 

His words were perfect: just the right mix of compassion and concern, yet not overbearing or anxious. If he just kept this up, if she could just see how well her life could be here, with him, how simple things would be, everything would work out beautifully. And speaking of beautiful…

Dressed in a simple white night shift, Alucard was taken aback at how elegant and feminine (Y/N) looked while robed in such a plain garment. Her hair, finally uncovered before him, had been unbraided, and let down to naturally frame her face. Her locks were full and lush, no doubt a sign of good fertility in addition to her overall health. This indication of her reproductive health ignited visions in the back of Alucard’s mind of all the different children they would have running around the castle halls. 

Swallowing down the fantasy for now, Alucard retained his external composure. ‘Remember,’ he chided himself, ‘For humans, it must be their idea for it to work.’ 

(Y/N) took the tray from his hands and set it down on the small table, opposite the washing room. It was centered between two wooden chairs, made to accommodate intimate meals between two people. 

“You needn’t do so much for me, you know? You’ve done plenty already.” 

“It is no trouble. I’ve found myself enjoying having someone more than just myself to feed.” Before his bravado could falter, Alucard took a seat at the table, gesturing for (Y/N) to join him. 

“Is it lonely?” (Y/N) asked. The sincere curiosity in her tone caught Alucard off-guard. “I’ve never lived anywhere on my own. I can’t begin to imagine being all by myself, especially in a place of this size.” 

Aiming to keep the conversation light, Alucard opted for a more humorous response. 

“Nonsense. The ghosts and ghouls in the dungeons keep me plenty occupied.” 

“In that case,” (Y/N) smiled, eagerly reciprocating Alucard’s playful parley. “Remind me to stay far away from the dungeon.” 

“Certainly,” Alucard answered, retrieving a cup of steaming tea. “I would hate for you to become the latest poltergeist haunting these grounds. Just imagine what your Father would say.” 

At the mention of her Father, (Y/N)’s smile faltered. Silently, she seated herself before picking up her cup. Taking a tentative sip, her brow furrowed at the odd taste. 

“It’s mandrake tea,” Alucard explained, continuing to swallow his down nonchalantly. 

“And do you normally drink, uh mandrake tea?” (Y/N) asked, politely feigning another sip. 

“It will keep you healthy. Ward off any infection or cold,” Alucard misled. 

Misled, not lied— mandrake root did have healing properties. Truthfully speaking, its main uses were as an anesthetic and a fertility aid. But until (Y/N) was as committed as he to their collective future, it was best she did not know such things. 

“Oh,” (Y/N) blinked in surprise. “I thought it was just used in witchcraft. And that it was dangerous to harvest.” 

Alucard chuckled, shaking his head. “The myth of the mandrake screaming is nothing more than an old wives’ tale, which the Church has exploited in their favor. They claimed Joan of Arc was carrying a mandrake root when she was seized by the Burgundians in the city of Compiègne.” 

(Y/N) shook her head, not quite understanding. “I’ll admit, I’ve never heard of this ‘Joan of Arc’. Nor the city of Compiegne, it must be quite far from here.” 

Alucard smiled, knowingly. “Very far, yes.” 

“Oh.” (Y/N) nodded, this conversation clearly out of her depth. “Well, those people, ah the Church,” (Y/N) corrected herself, “Why would they say that? What did they have to gain?” 

“They sought to cast a shadow over her reputation, and to besmirch any scholars proclaiming the mandrake’s healing properties.” 

“How—” (Y/N) started, “How do you know all this?” 

Alucard shrugged. “The original keeper of this castle collected centuries of suppositories of knowledge, many of which contained science previously vilified by the church. I’ve been fortunate enough to read nearly all which is stored here.” 

(Y/N) forced herself to swallow down another mouthful. “‘Original keeper’?’” she repeated. “I thought that was you.” 

“No,” Alucard said, somewhat decisively. His sharp tone indicated the matter was not up for discussion. “I was not the one who brought this castle into existence. I merely inherited it.” 

(Y/N) nodded again, her posture more notably hunched than before. She forced herself to take a good long sip before swallowing harshly. 

Thrown by all this newly shared information, (Y/N) licked her lips before pressing them together in a tight line. “I know earlier you said that it would be unwise for me to go see him, in the event I’d catch something…” 

“Yes.” 

“And while I certainly don’t like this being this situation, you are the expert here, as well as our host so I’ll respect it…” 

“But?” 

“I need you to promise me one thing. Just one thing, and I swear I will stop pestering you about visiting him.” 

Alucard nodded, encouragingly. 

“You will tell me when he’s dying.” 

Alucard felt the air in the room grow cold. 

(Y/N) said ‘when’ he was dying, as if she had come to that hopeless conclusion already. Did she truly have so little faith in him, that she couldn’t envision her Father recovering? Had he not been firm enough in assuring her of his medical knowledge? Was he doing too little to comfort her? Too little to distract her? Or… perhaps too much? 

Had Alucard’s honeyed words and kind intentions accomplished the opposite of what he intended? Had his constant reassurance acted as a warning for grief that had yet to come? 

This was not good— not good at all. 

Internally, Alucard’s mind was racing through potential future scenarios. 

If her Father died now, she’d have no reason to stay. She’d pack up and leave, and forevermore associate his name, his memory, Alucard’s very existence with heartache. No. 

No, she had to stay! Which meant her Father had to live! But, how?

Alucard was powerful; still, he had no dominion over Death. 

In every outcome, (Y/N)’s Father remained a crucial aspect of his plan. She revered him, she loved him— and most importantly—  she trusted him explicitly. 

‘Perhaps,’ Alucard’s mind supplied, ‘Therein lies the answer to our question. Instead of working so hard to gain (Y/N)’s approval, I could gain a blessing from her Father. If he were to see us as someone worthy of his daughter’s hand, he would no doubt share that final sentiment with her, before his passing.’ 

It was genius, foolproof really. 

If it was made clear to (Y/N)’s Father, that Alucard was the best option for her, and the one most capable of ensuring her safety and happiness… 

If the last thing her Father ever did was command them to be together, no daughter, especially not one as respectful and obedient as (Y/N) could refuse. 

Alucard needn't be so alarmed after all. 

Nodding solemnly, Alucard’s golden eyes bore unflinchingly into hers. 

“I promise.” 

Once the tea had been finished, Alucard bid (Y/N) goodnight, encouraging her to at least try and get a few hours of sleep before the coming sunrise. 

Quietly, he gathered all the teacups back onto the serving tray and exited the room, softly shutting the door behind him. 

For a moment, Alucard stood still. He waited until he heard the unmistakable ruffle of sheets, and the slowed heartbeat of a human finally at rest. 

Shortly after (Y/N) had agreed to bring her Father here, Alucard considered placing a sponge soaked in somnifera under her pillow. Now, Alucard was glad to have decided against it. Her body was beyond tired enough to fall asleep on its own, and it wouldn’t do him any good to set off any suspicions with unusual scents in the room. 

Besides, his plan had a new direction now— a superior direction. She was not the one he needed to charm, oh no. From where he stood, Alucard could also hear the person he needed to charm, coughing fitfully upstairs. 

And it was time, Alucard decided, to pay him an honest visit. 

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Notes: 

Mandrake, which gave Rachel children in the bible- used to be believed to treat infertility, but also loads of other stuff, but the fertile thing is what Alucard is utilizing it for here. It was also possibly in the wine given to Jesus on the cross. It had a strong sedative effect. The myth that could not harvest the roots without being killed up until 1597 (so this would be news prob to the reader, old news to Alu) It was also thought to be a love charm- medieval church cast it out as a demonic talisman, punished Joan of arc for ‘carrying’ one.

The mix called The Spongia Somnifera is From Arabian scientist Ibn Sina (c. 980 to 1037 CE), or Avicenna. In his authoritative Canon of Medicine, he identified certain plants with pharmacological action, such as mandrake, opium, and henbane. He described the Spongia Somnifera: “Opium, juice of hyoscyamine, unripened berry of the blackberry, hog beans, lettuce seed, juice of hemlock, poppy, mandragora. Put these all together in a vessel and plunge therein a new sea sponge, and put that in the sun during the dog days until all the liquid is consumed. And when there is need, dip it a little in water and apply it to the nostrils of the patient, and he will quickly go to sleep.”

TB was also called phthisis, or “wasting,” by Hippocrates. 

Some other interesting sources: Old-Timey Medicine; TB Throughout History; Mandragora: Anesthesia of the Ancients; Mandrake: The Scream of Death; and Gerad’s Herbal Chapter 65: Mandrake

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A/N 2.0: AGAIN PLEASE GIVE A HUGE SHOUT-OUT TO MY WONDERFUL BETA @allthegoodbobdylanlyricsaretaken , WHO VOLUNTEERED TO HELP ME WITH THIS INSTALLMENT. 

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Tag List: @peterpankat ;

Let me know, if you’d like to be added to the tag list by either commenting on this post, mentioning so in a reblog, or sending me an ask requesting to be added. 

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And as always… Please Like and REBLOG! 

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[tevanbegins]

This is a long rant to shoot down mad BoB theories insisting that Tommy is a villain / secret spy in cahoots with Gerrard / plot device / temporary LI. The show's writers are mature adults who surely wouldn't go so out of the way to villainize a queer character? To the extent that he'd fool all the main characters into thinking he was a good guy and great for Buck for an entire season, and then start revealing his true colors in the next season? To make a beautiful storyline about queer joy blow up into flames with such a major negative plot twist? All so that Eddie can suddenly realise he is gay and he and Buck can get together? I seriously don't think a 60 year old showrunner would allow such childish nonsense to happen on his show.

I'm not saying queer characters can't play dark / negative roles — Eva's character is an example from this very show itself. But the writers always told us that she is a bad influence on Hen's life right from the start, never got us attached to her by depicting her as a great person in the beginning and then revealing later that she is bad. If Tommy was meant to be horrible for Buck, the narrative would clearly tell us that from the start the way they did with Eva and Hen. The writers cannot be so insensitive as to give the LGBTQ+ community such significant mlm representation with Buck and Tommy, first making us fall in love with their romance and then humiliating us (as well as Buck) by completely destroying Tommy's character — all to serve the end purpose of making a fanon ship go canon? That might happen in B*ddie fanfics written by teenagers, but it can't happen on a show being written for a sensible, mature audience by grown-ass career TV writers!!!

B*ddie would have happened a long time ago if the writers wanted to make it canon. They are not going to do it now, definitely not by making Tommy the scapegoat in that awful mess, just so the toxic portion of the fandom can be appeased over the rest of the audiences who appreciate the show for its thoughtful and sensitive storytelling.

Why is maligning Tommy even necessary to make B*ddie canon? Like Eddie and Buck have seen each other dating one woman after another through the seasons but only Tommy being the bad guy will suddenly lead to a feelings realisation arc? Why didn't it happen before, or why couldn't it happen without reintroducing Tommy if B*ddie canon was always the end plan? Probably because the writers aren't interested in going there at all, and Tommy is genuinely being written as a long-term LI for Buck?

Backing this argument is the fact that most of the conversations had by the other characters after Buck's coming out have not been explicitly about him now identifying as bisexual, but more about him being involved with Tommy. If Tommy was being written as a plot device or a short-term LI, I don't think the other characters (including Eddie, mind you) would be hyping him up during these conversations. The writers would have probably framed the conversations on the lines of, "Oh wow Buck you realised you're bisexual? Congratulations!" instead of "OMG you and Tommy? Tell us more / We love him for you and approve of you two together!" They wouldn't take the efforts they've been taking to make Tommy a pivotal subject of these conversations if he was just a plot device as the BoBs believe. And if he was supposed to be a villain, the other characters would have told Buck to find someone better if they thought Tommy's vibes were off. Not all of them can be foolish to not see through Tommy if he was truly as bad as BoBs say he is (especially not Bobby.) Yes, Buck's bisexuality is valid regardless of who he dates or even if he doesn't, but the fact the characters talk so positively about both him + Tommy during these convos clearly implies this is an important love story blended into the coming out arc.

If B*ddie canon was in the works, JLH and Kenny Choi wouldn't have said on their IG lives that it's not going to happen, Ryan Guzman wouldn't be referring to Eddie as heterosexual, etc. So, we cannot let the BoB comments get into our heads because they are not the ones writing the show. I think we can expect a lot better from Tim & Co. than them giving in to the delusional fantasies BoBs want to see being manifested. Wanted to say this piece because I am fed up of seeing the BoB conspiracy theories all over and don't want to give them the power to steal our joy. That's all for now!

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[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: I'm just going to come right out and say it, I love Kafka Hibino. He's so goddamn cute that I literally want to just eat him alive. This is my first time writing for him - though I've been thinking about it for ages. I hope you like it, @supersecretsaga And I apologize, I'm wholly incapable of writing without it exceeding 1k words. So, SORRY. I proofed this once on google docs and that's all I have in me today. Any gross errors that look like I didn't mean to do them, message me!

C/W ::: Human Kafka, F.reader, not a lot of swearing. I just don't get the sense that Kafka would swear unnecessarily. Maybe I'm wrong. My perception will probably change. Really, who cares. Um, P->V (unprotected), jumping the relationship gun (but, with him, I would, too.)

WC ::: 3,094 (about 7 3/4 pages on G-Docs).

MDNI UNDER THE CUT

Kafka Hibino was simple, through and through. But when he met you that day in the hospital, his whole life changed. He knew he'd never be the same man he was before he was admitted.

You're a nurse. You were great at your job, and you knew it. Though the first time you saw that big, dumb puppy-energy-giving man, you knew that you were a goner, as well.

He was admitted around 2 am. Settled in around 5 am. He was in a lot of pain from the fight he'd gotten into with the Kaiju around midnight. He had 2 broken arms, bruised ribs. A number of different things had happened to him.

Kafka would be in good hands, though. Really, really good hands.

Your hands.

**** 7:30 am ****

"Oh- oh my god. What was THAT!?" You pulled your hand from the large porcelain tub in his bathroom and squeezed the sponge out over his short dark hair.

Giggling, you blinked slowly because you couldn't deny the warmth that was spreading throughout your whole body. And not just between your thighs. No, this was something else entirely. His stupid haircut, his kind eyes and dumbass smile were hammering their way through your boundaries. The same boundaries you'd worked so hard over the years to build to not get emotionally attached to patients.

"You're an idiot, Mr. Hibino. A complete moron. Have you never been bathed before? That was just a little something extra to help loosen up your muscles, a quick massage. My goodness. It's as if you've never been pampered." You stood from where you were on your knees on the floor and shook your hands out, purposely getting water on his face - you hoped in his eyes - so you would have a reason to gingerly wipe it dry.

"Call me Kafka," he said, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched you grab the towel and stand over him.

"What?" You were confused. You didn't realize he'd been asking you something.

"Call me Kafka. It's my name, yeah?" He sounded so serious, so sincere. You nodded and wiped his face with the towel, noticing the small wrinkles as he smiled up at you.

Fuck. He's adorable and you're finding it harder and harder to stay professional.

"No. Your name is Mr. Hibino and that's what I'll be calling you. Ok? Mr. Hibino? Now, let's finish this bath and get you back in bed. The doctor will be coming by soon to check on you and he can give you another massage if you need it." You moved your hands to his shoulders, gently massaging them as you continued talking. "You've been through a lot, Mr. Hibino. Your body needs to heal."

He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning back against the tub.

You kept massaging him, not stopping until he was almost asleep.

This sweet, gentle man, had a power over you that no one else did. And you weren't sure how to deal with it.

Quite a while later (sorry, storyline faux pas - I didn’t take into account healing time. But let’s just say that because he’s part Kaiju that he heals exceptionally fast. Ok? Ok!)*****

**** 1 month later, 10 pm ****

You hadn't seen Kafka since the morning bath you'd given him. He was discharged and sent home to continue his recovery. As a nurse, you knew he would be alright. But as a woman, you were left feeling empty and wanting more of him.

You were home that night, exhausted, but unable to sleep. You tried to keep your thoughts away from the big, gentle man who had stolen your heart with his kind words and warm smile, but it was impossible.

Your mind drifted to the way he looked at you as you bathed him.

How his body was perfectly balanced between the hard muscles he'd earned in his training and the slight squish around his mid-section that you wanted nothing more than to run your fingertips over.

His arms were thick and strong. Yet not battle-worn. He didn't have too many scars, though they'd have only added to his appeal.

His legs were muscular, too. Thick and strong, like his arms. His thighs were something else, something you found yourself daydreaming about wrapping your own legs around.

You wondered what his cock would feel like inside of you. You snuck a glance when he was in the tub. You knew his eyes were closed when you looked at it, bobbing away in the water. You're certain he was hard. Otherwise, you prayed he wasn't a grower because any more than that and you'd be the one being admitted to the hospital.

You thought about his hands on your body, squeezing your breasts and sliding between your thighs. You imagined what it would be like to feel his fingers inside of you, massaging you and bringing you to orgasm faster than you could imagine.

You rubbed your clit slowly, gently. You couldn't bring yourself to fuck yourself with a vibrator or even your own fingers. You didn't want to give yourself that much pleasure. 

You wanted it to be Kafka.

You wanted him to be the one to take you, to fuck you, to make love to you.

You rolled over onto your stomach, burying your face into your pillow as you yelled out in frustration.

"This is ridiculous. This is so stupid. I - I'm not some teenager who can't control herself." You stood and walked to your closet, grabbing some comfortable clothes and your purse and left for the mini mart down the street from your house. 

Chocolate was the next best thing you could think of. Other than, of course, Kafka running his hands all over your body. But what are the chances of that.

What are the chances of that?

The night air was cool against your skin. A nice contrast to the heat you'd built up while thinking about him.

You grabbed a pint of chocolate ice cream and began walking back home.

You felt better, slightly, but still very much wanting.

**** 10:30 pm ****

You were halfway through your pint and the movie when you heard a knock on your front door. "Coming, hold on, please." You walked to the door and looked through your peephole to see who it was. "Oh, you're fucking kidding me. What on earth are you doing here, Mr. Hibino?" The smile on your face was causing the back of your head to strain. You couldn't hide that you felt like your prayers had been answered all at once. But at the same time, you didn't want Kafka to see this look of bliss on your flushed face.

"Call me Kafka," he said softly, leaning against the doorway and smiling back at you. "And I wanted to see you again. May I? Come in, I mean. Please?"

You stepped aside and let him in, closing the door behind him.

You watched as he looked around your living room. You could tell he was a little nervous, but so were you.

You'd never felt this way about a patient before. Ex-patient, you had to remind yourself. He was no longer under your care. 

"Ok, Kafka." He smiled at the way you said his name. He'd never heard anything like it before. "Would you like some ice cream? I was just sitting here, eating some, watching a bad movie." You chuckled, showing him the container and spoon.

"Sure. I'd love some." He sat down right in the middle of your couch, and you sat next to him.

You handed him the ice cream and he dug in.

You both ate in silence for a few minutes until he said, "This is good."

You nodded and smiled. "It is. Sometimes chocolate, um, well, sometimes it's the only thing that helps. Y'know?" You looked at him, noticing the way his lips had turned up into a smirk. "What? What did I say?"

"Nothing, nothing. You're just ... you just ... h-here. Can I? There's a little bit of ... right ..." He swiped his thumb across your bottom lip so slowly and then sucked the ice cream off. "... there. You just had a little on your lip. 'S gone now."

You weren't sure what to do. Your body was telling you to jump on him and fuck him until neither of you could walk. Your brain was telling you to wait and see what other kind of sweet nothings he'd do for you. 

So, you waited. You had no idea your self-control was this well-honed. Again, you’d never been tested like this before.

But Kafka was different.

"You're beautiful, y'know." He whispered, looking at the floor like he was trying to burn holes in it with his eyes. He turned his head, leaning in a little bit closer than you were to him at the hospital. His hand moved to rest on your knee. And he said, "I've never met anyone like you before. I thought I was just going lay in the hospital bed until I was better. But you showed me kindness and care. I know you were just doing your job, but I'm grateful that you were there. That you were … you."

You didn't say anything. You were too busy trying to keep your heart from leaping out of your chest. You're sure if he'd looked, he'd see your tits jumping ever so slightly from the heaviness of the beating.

"Thank you for that. Thank you for everything you've done for me, Miss. I don’t know your first name. I’m embarrassed at how many ‘L/N’ households I went to looking for you.”

Your hand shot up to cover the smile that immediately bloomed across your lips. "That's not important. It's Y/N. And you're welcome. I'm happy I was able to help you. I didn't expect you to come here, though. I'm glad you did." You shifted, moving your knee so that your legs were touching. He didn't move his hand. He held it there, squeezing your knee gently.

"I didn't think I'd come here either. But I couldn't stop thinking about you. I know it's not appropriate for me to be here, but I had to see you again. I wanted to say thank you, in person." He turned his head and looked at you. You leaned in closer to him, your noses almost touching. "And maybe something else. Something that would make you feel as special as you made me feel when you took care of me."

You were so close to him you could feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek. He smelled like the air before a storm, and whiskey. But a little liquid courage never killed anyone.

"Kafka," you whispered, reaching up and touching his face. You were fidgeting with a small piece of his hair as you rest your forehead against his. "Kafka. I ..."

He sat up abruptly, "Oh shit! You're not married, are you? I should have asked, I'm so sorry for showing up here so late. Without any warning." He bowed to you and started for the door.

"Kafka! I'm not married. I'm not even seeing anyone right now. Please, come back. Come sit." You stood and took his hand, leading him back to the couch. "I was going to say I've never felt this way about a patient before. You make me feel like there's something more to life than just my job."

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours for any signs of dishonesty. He couldn't find any. "So, you don't mind me coming here?"

You shook your head. "I don't mind you coming here at all. I'm glad you did. I was just surprised, that's all. Please don't leave. Not yet." You held his hand tighter and urged him back down on the couch with you.

Pulling him back in, kissing him gently on the lips. "I've been wanting you to do that since the first time I saw you, too. But you in terrible pain when you came in. How did you have the presence of mind to want to kiss me when you were so badly beaten up?"

He laughed, "I wasn't beaten up, per se. I just didn't come out on top." He paused for a second, and then continued, "And the pain wasn't as bad as you think. I'm used to it. It's a part of my job. But being here with you, it's like I can forget all of that. And just be me. Kafka. Nothing else."

You leaned in and kissed him again, this time with more urgency. His lips parted slightly, and you could taste the chocolate on his tongue. You moaned softly, shifting so that your legs were wrapped around him. He pulled you onto his lap, and you straddled him, grinding yourself against his crotch.

"Oh my god," he moaned, pulling back slightly and looking into your eyes. "Y/N. You're so beautiful." He reached up and touched your cheek with his thumb, rubbing it gently.

You pulled his shirt off, tossing it to the floor. His chest was chiseled and smooth, his abs flexing slightly under his cute belly as he breathed heavily.

You ran your hands over his shoulders and down his back, feeling every muscle and every scar. You kissed his neck, biting it gently and sucking on his skin. "Kafka, I want you. I want you so much."

He pulled your shirt off and threw it next to his. "I'm gonna make you feel so good that you'll forget all about chocolate."

You stopped, pulling back from his face, and you laughed so hard for the first time in ages. "Oh, that might be the most serious thing anyone has ever said to me. Challenge accepted!"

He pulled you back into him and kissed you, his hands reaching around to squeeze your ass as you ground yourself against him. He picked you up and carried you to your bedroom, gently laying you on the bed before climbing on top of you.

You unclasped your bra and tossed it to the floor, allowing him to see your breasts. He gasped as quietly as he could manage, running his hands over them and squeezing them gently. "You're so beautiful. You know that?"

He leaned down and took a nipple in his mouth, sucking on it gently as his fingers worked at your pants. He slid them off, revealing your black lace panties. You'd never felt so exposed in your life. And you loved it.

"Kafka, please," you moaned as he sucked harder on your nipple, his hand moving down to rub your clit through your panties. "Please fuck me. I need you. I need you so bad."

He pulled back, looking at your face. "You want me to fuck you? You want me to make you cum? Oh-hoh baby, I will. I might even cum before you do! But don't lose faith. It's just, well, it's been a while? I guess? But that's not important right now." He leaned in and kissed you again, biting your bottom lip and sucking on it gently.

"It's ok, Kafka. I want you. I don't care if you cum before me. I just want you inside me. Please, please." You looked up at him with tears in your eyes. You couldn't believe you were begging like this, but you didn't care. You wanted him so badly.

He nodded and pulled your panties off, throwing them to the floor. He pushed his own pants down and pulled his boxers off with them, his cock set free.

You gasped at the sight. It was so much more than what you saw when he was in the tub. "Jesus, I-"

He looked down, "Oh. That?" He turned his head away, "Yeah, sorry. I'm sure you've seen um, better? But I make up for it in other ways! I promise, y/n. Just give me a chance."

You shook your head and smiled, "That's not at all what I'm trying to say here. There's not a doubt in my mind you won't fuck me stupid, Kafka." You giggled and reached your arms out to pull him down against you.

He positioned himself between your legs, rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit as he kissed your neck.

You moaned, "Ohhh, fuck. Yes. Do that." Your hand moved to his ass, squeezing it as he rocked against you.

He pushed himself inside of you slowly, stretching you out as he went. The slight sting you noticed dissipated as quickly as the onset. You moaned, your nails digging into his back as he started to thrust faster. "Kafka, oh my god. That feels so fucking good. More. I want more,  please."

He grunted, his cock sliding in and out of you as you arched your back, grinding yourself against him. He sucked on your nipple again, his tongue flicking over it as he fucked you harder and faster.

You couldn't believe how much he was making you feel. You hadn't had sex in so long, but this was different. This was something else entirely. He was with you. He wasn't just there to get himself off. You'd been with guys like that before and they, more often than not, left you with a (literal) bad taste in your mouth.

Your breathing quickened, and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. And the closer you got, the harder your nails dug into his muscular back. "Kaf-hoh shit. Y-that ... pl- fuck. 'M gonna cum ... very … very soon."

He pulled back slightly, looking at your face as you bit your lip, your eyes rolling back. "Me too, baby. Me too. You're so tight, and you feel so good. I can't believe I'm inside of you. Fuck. I'm gonna cum, Y/N. Oh shit, I'm gonna cum." He grunted again, his cock twitching inside of you as he came hard, filling you up.

You came with him, your pussy squeezing around his cock as he kept fucking you, slowing his thrusts until he stopped completely.

"Fuck," you whispered, reaching up and touching his face gently. "Kafka."

He smiled and kissed you softly. "RIGHT!?" 

You laughed through a yawn at the high energy he had when you first met, despite his injuries, and how he seems now. “Stay? Stay with me. I don’t want you to go. Tonight. Ever.” 

He held you close to him, kissing the top of your head and brushing your hair down as you drifted off to sleep against his warm chest.

"Just try’n get rid of me, y/n." 

@darkstarlight82 @katkusuo @kazutora-kurokawa

@arlerts-angel @southside-otaku @trevengersprincess

@bakubunny @reiners-milkbiddies

***If you guys absolutely hate this anime or don't give a shit, please please let me know so I don't keep writing and tagging you in stuff you don't care about! Thanks, mooties! <3***

[erooca]

daycare

ellie williams x reader

description: ellie williams is forced to take a shift at a daycare. she knows she’s gonna hate it, that is, until she sees you. 1.9k words

this is very self indulgent cuz i work at a daycare. i’d be so down to continue this storyline if it gets any interactions :)

part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/erooca/725335248989208576/daycare-pt-2

why the fuck am i here? is exactly what ellie was thinking, pulling into the small, but cheery daycare. it was 9:30 in the fucking morning. she should still be asleep, not getting prepared to run around with little kids for the next eight hours.

after feeling sorry for herself a bit longer, she turned off the ignition and headed into the double doors.

“good morning, ellie!” maria said with a bright smile. ellie almost rolled her eyes at the enthusiasm. maria was sitting behind the front desk, clicking away on the computer in front of her.

“morning,” ellie responded back, a complete opposite from the way maria had greeted her.

“i know i’ve already thanked you a million times, but seriously. thank you for coming in,” maria thanked.

right. the reason ellie was here in the first place. maria had mentioned how the daycare she owned was extremely understaffed recently and needed all the help she could get. of course, joel offered up ellie as help. he said it would be good for her. ellie would have shut them both down, but maria mentioned how much she’d pay ellie. ellie was sold.

“yeah,” ellie responded, still not happy about the experience.

“listen, ellie, as soon as i get some more workers you’ll be free to go,” maria comforted.

“i know. so what am i gonna be doing?” ellie asked, praying to whatever’s out there that she won’t have to change any diapers.

“i think i’m going to put you in the big three’s. it’s a good group of kids, so don’t stress. it’s just down that hallway. second door on the right.”

ellie nodded her head and set off to the room. she already knew she was about to have the most frustrating and long shift of her entire life.

as she walked down the hallway, she admired the kids’ art that was strung on the walls. she noticed more of it around the big three’s door. she took a deep breath, and then entered through the door.

and then she saw you. you were kneeled down, ground level with a little girl who was crying. she watched as you gave the little girl a big hug, and how you helped her focus on the tower she was building with the colorful blocks.

when you finished calmed down the kid, you spotted ellie. maria told you that you’d be having another teacher today, but she never mentioned that teacher would be fine as fuck.

“hey. ellie, right?” you asked.

“um.. yeah,” she answered.

you introduced yourself to her and the room.

“they’re doing centers right now. you should go around and try to get to know some of the kids. once we have circle time, we can do proper introductions. that sound okay?” you suggested.

“sure..” ellie said. you could sense the nervousness radiating off of her.

“don’t stress. these kids are fun to be around. at least most of the time. let me know if you need anything,” you encouraged.

she nodded her head and looked around the room. from what she could see, the centers included music, blocks, art, math, science, and a play kitchen.

of course, she felt inclined to visit the art table first. there was only about three kids over there, and it was a topic she knew pretty well. was she overthinking this? probably.

she took a seat on the uncomfortably small chair in front of the table. immediately, the three kids looked up at her.

“hi! what’s your name?” a girl with short brown hair asked her.

“ellie,” she answered, then realized she should probably talk a bit more, “um what’s yours?”

“pippa,” she answered, putting away the green crayon in exchange for a red one.

“what are you drawing?” ellie asked, looking at the mound of colors on the girl’s paper.

“my family!” pippa smiled, “that’s my mommy, and that’s my kitty kat, and that’s daddy!”

to ellie, it looked more like scribbles of different colors, but nonetheless she praised the girl for her creativity.

she felt a light tap on her arm and when she turned she was met with a shy looking boy. he had black braids in his hair and wore a toy story themed shirt.

“hi.” ellie said to the boy.

“can you draw me something?” he asked, handing her his blank sheet of paper.

“okay..” she said, taking the paper from him, “what should i draw?”

the boy thought for a minute, “ooo, i know! a dinosaur!!” he said, excitedly.

this request made ellie’s smile grow. of course she could draw him a motherfucking dinosaur.

“what’s your name?” she asked him.

“king!” he replied, awaiting his dinosaur.

as she drew, king watched intently, and once pippa noticed ellie was drawing, she started watching too.

when ellie was finished, she gave it back to king.

“woah!!! it’s a t-rex! i’m gonna color him green!” he said.

“ellie. can you draw me a mermaid?” pippa asked her.

ellie obliged and soon she had a good line of kids asking her to draw things for them.

as she was working on her third princess drawing, she heard you singing the clean up song.

she didn’t have chance to admire how beautiful your voice was before the kids started singing along. the three year olds started cleaning up their messes and ellie helped them out.

you had them gather on the carpet, where you finally introduced ellie as their new teacher (for the time being). you watched as ellie awkwardly smiled and you had to hold in a laugh.

after doing a couple songs and shit with the kids, they all went outside and played on the playground.

you took this opportunity to talk to ellie.

“hey, so, how you liking it so far?” you asked her, curiously.

“i thought i’d hate it, but it’s actually not too bad,” she said, glancing over at you with a smile. you swear you almost passed out right there.

“haha, yeah. it can take a second to get used to. you’re lucky they didn’t put you with the two year olds. those children make me want to quit my job,” you laughed, “so you know maria?”

“yeah. she’s sort of my- aunt-in-law - i guess?” ellie said, trying to find the right words.

“really? tommy must be your uncle then. gonna be honest, maria scares me,” you admitted.

ellie laughed, and your heart skipped a beat.

“pretty sure tommy feels the same way. she’s not bad once you get passed the cold exterior. how long you been working here?” ellie asked, intrigued to know more about you.

“about a year. its just a steady job while i’m in college,” you answered.

“you’re in college. where do you go?” she asked.

“jackson state!”

“no way, me too. you on campus?”

“yeah, campbell north.”

“no fucking way-“ ellie said, but caught herself, “shit-SHOOT, no freaking way. i dorm there too.”

after you laughed at her slip up, you continued your sweet conversation with her. you felt like you’re falling in love with her by the second, and little to your knowledge, she’s was feeling the same way.

“do you have any favorites yet?” you asked.

“um.. i like king. he’s sweet,” ellie answered, thinking back to the dinosaur drawing.

“yeah. he’s really smart too. he’s actually in the foster care system and can be a bit sensitive about it. try not to mention moms or dads around him,” you told her.

this struck a chord in ellie. she had been in foster care a long time before joel came along. she knew exactly what it was like for king. she hopes he will be as fortunate as her in the future.

when the time came, you and ellie corralled all the kids back into the room. there was a cart at the front of their door that had lunch on it. you explained to ellie that you guys will have to make the plates and then hand them out, same with the milk.

you passed out the plates to each kid who was sitting down at the small tables, while ellie came behind with the bowls of food, placing a nice scoop on each child’s paper plate.

you went to start pouring the milk but soon got distracted. you couldn’t help but watch ellie as her lean figure slid around the room. you liked the way she kneeled down when a child was asking her a question, acting as if that child were her equal. you studied how her hair was sticking up a bit on the sides, probably from being outside and running around with the three year olds. most of all, you loved how she was smiling. how it seemed that she was enjoying herself. the beautiful curve up of her lips was enough for your heart to beat at a rapid pace.

you snapped out of your trance when you saw ellie look up at you. you flicked your head away before she could catch you staring (even though she definitely did and you knew it too). you started actually doing your job and pouring the milk for your children.

as the day went on, ellie was very fond of learning more about you. you both spent nap time learning new things. when ellie told you how much she loved space, you told her how you thought you could be the first person to pluto as a kid, since it was your favorite planet. you guys talked about your favorite constellations and which ones you spot first. you told her how much you liked to read and shared your favorite stories with her. you asked what maria was like at thanksgiving dinner.

you were sat together against the wall, just chatting. the lullaby music played on the tv. the lights were off and curtains were closed. the three year olds were all asleep. ellie was all to yourself right now. you were so starstruck with how easily your conversation flowed. she sat with her knees up, resting ur arms on them as she looked at you. you could see glint in her eyes, even in the dark room. it made you like her even more.

once the kids woke up, it was less talking and more working, much to your disappointment. the rest of the day went by smoothly. you did a fun craft with the children that they enjoyed, and ended the day with tv time. once the number of kids got lower, maria came in to let ellie know she could go home.

“well. i hope all these kids didn’t scare you off. will you- be here tomorrow?” you asked with a hopeful look on her face.

ellie chuckled, “some of them are a bit scary, but they didn’t. i think i will be here tomorrow, but only so i can see you again though,” ellie smirked.

once her words sunk in, your cheeks turned a blushy color. no way the new, hot teacher just flirted with you. you stammered a bit but regained your ground.

“looking forward to it, ellie. have a good night,” you smiled brightly.

ellie have you a slight smile and a wave before walking out the door. you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. holy shit were you in deep.

ellie joyfully said bye to maria, earning her a weird look. she felt on cloud nine as she walked to her car. the day went better than she could’ve ever expected. she was already making a mental list on ways she could win you over.

maybe this daycare job won’t be so bad. is exactly what ellie was thinking as she drove away.

[somehow-a-human]

Whose POV is it Anyway?

Bodysnatchers & Cosplaying a bookseller

DO NOT ASK NEIL ABOUT FAN THEORY

I'm back! I took a few days off of doing internet thingsss so I took a break from writing this series of posts but I'm back and continuing with episode 3 in its entirety!

For reference & context, I recommend reading these posts:

Whose POV is it Anyway? - Introduction

Lens Filters

POV "Your 'Something's Wrong' Voice"

POV a Trip to Hell and a 25 Lazarii Miracle

POV a Companion to Owls

POV The Dirty Donkey & I think I Found a *Clue*!

Shall we get cracking?

Episode 3 gifts us the arrival of Muriel! Sweet adorable Muriel! We see them arrive to the bookshop, with the Bronze Glimmer Glass filter in full effect. Aziraphale is the only one there so it makes sense we'll have Aziraphale's POV to start. Cupperteas ensue, and Crowley arrives to be grumpy but fully accepting that Aziraphale is taking their car, I mean, he's already brought the plants inside. His sideburns are long here as well.

When the duo head into the backroom to discuss what's going on, the filter changes, the lighting is much cooler toned, and we're now looking through the Black Diffusion FX filter in Crowley's POV. Crowley's sideburns are also short now, and if my theory that POV is also correlating with his hair length, it's standing here.

As Aziraphale drives off, we see Crowley watch him from the window and sigh, sideburns still short, still his POV.

I'm going to stick to the present day storyline and switch to the bodysnatchers minisode at the end!

The time Aziraphale and Crowley spend apart in this episode is interesting to say the least. If we're trying to look at the lighting and possible lens filters used to determine the narrator or POV for these scenes... I think they're switched!

When we see Aziraphale driving the Bentley, the scene isn't awash with glowy warm lighting which we know isn't reserved just to the bookshop since we've seen it used in the record shop, coffee shop, and in the Job flashback.

It's rather cool toned lighting for a yellow bentley. Aziraphale's whole trip to Edinburgh is cool toned. The time he spends in The Resurrectionist, the graveyard, everything. I would have expected Aziraphale's magical little newspaperman cosplaying extravaganza to be dripping in his golden glow through the gorgeous Edinburgh when I started thinking about the scenes and these lense filters and these metas.

But then you look at the opposite, Crowley alone in the bookshop with Jim. Something he would hate right? Sounds like worst case scenario for him. He loves the bookshop but he's there alone with Gabriel who tried to kill the person he loves more than anything and didn't have an ounce of compassion, while Aziraphale has taken himself and his car very far away.

But what is Crowley's experience like? He and Gabriel are chummy as ever, they talk about rainstorms, vavooming, gravity. Crowley dresses down and is wearing sleeve garters? A bit old fashioned for Crowley but not for Aziraphale no? He's playing bookseller, carrying books around, albeit not quite correctly, chucking them at the end. Every scene is drenched in warm golden haze and Crowley's sideburns are long the entire time.

They aren't together, but they've always probably got one thing on their mind...

I think we're seeing these scenes through each other's eyes, or the POV is swapped if you will. Maybe that's why Crowley is wearing sleeve garters and cosplaying bookseller and being very kind to Jim? And Aziraphale is being the worlds cutest little investigator to ever exist. I think maybe they're imagining each other, or it just points to the idea that they're apart but still the only thing they're always thinking about.

Okay, cute lovebomb, now let's talk digging up dead bodies!

There isn't a lot to go off of for lighting in this minisode, but there is one detail I wanted to point out that has to do with Crowley's hair length. In all locations BUT the crypt his mutton chops are longer. When they enter the crypt both times, they are shorter.

You can see they are a distinct "J" shape in most scenes but in the crypt scenes (for example when he drinks laudanum and busts through the roof) they have been trimmed back). So if I'm going just on hair length, all scenes except the crypt are Aziraphale's POV.

If you can look past my terrible image quality, you can see on the right image his chops are notched where on the left they're doing the opposite.

NEXT

POV 1941

[bookuce]

Fools Rush In

SUMMARY: Nessa wasn’t looking for love, neither was Joe, but when you know, you know.  Isn’t it funny how fate work?

*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OCs. The book uses actual names of wrestlers. Josh is Jey, Jon is Jimmy, Trinity is Naomi, Joe is Roman. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events (matches, storylines) could pop up in the story eventually. I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REPOST MY WRITINGS ANYWHERE. THAAAAAANKS. *

PAIRING: Roman Reigns x Black OC

TROPE: Love At First Sight

WARNINGS: N/A

WORD COUNT: 3,659

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

Nessa’s Uber stopped in front of the InterContinental Hotel of Miami. A valet driver approached her door, opening it for her to step out. “Good evening, miss.” The Valet greets her with a smile. Slowly, she steps out of the car, her head tilting back to take in its size. It was nothing short of luxurious—which made sense for Joe to stay there. 

“Yeah, hi.” She says, slightly turning her head to acknowledge the man. When he noticed she had no bags, he would move off to the side, his arms clasping behind his back. She ascended the granite steps to the glass doors, where a doorman stood by to open the door for her. “Thank you.” She says, briefly glancing at the doorman. She walks into the hotel lobby, her eyes wide with amazement. She’s never been in something so grand before. She expected them to start charging her for even breathing the air here. 

“Good evening, ma’am.” The concierge clerk greets her with a smile from behind her desk. “May I help you?” She asks. Nessa forces herself to look away from the grandness of the lobby, walking over to the employee.

“Um, I’m looking for Joe?” She asks. The woman’s smile falters slightly, and she leans in a bit. She was going to need a little more than just a first name. Joe was a typical name to have, and without a last name, she couldn’t help her. 

“Last name?” She presses. It was then Nessa realized she never got his last name. Joe was simply Joe to her. 

“I don’t know…we met earlier tonight—he invited me here.” She explains, slightly shaking her head. “I can describe him?” She suggests. “He’s tall,” She lifts her hand above her head a few inches. “About yay high, bearded. He has long hair, but it’s tied back in a tight bun. Really, super attractive and—.”

“Super attractive, huh?” An amused voice says from behind her. Nessa becomes incredibly still, her eyes widening. She was busted. Slowly, she turns around, coming face-to-face with Joe. He was standing a couple of feet away, two bags in his hands. He had just gotten their food from a delivery driver. There was a grin that matched his tone of voice on his lips. 

“Um,” She drifts off, becoming silent.

Though she remembered who she had seen earlier, he appeared to her now an entirely different person. The hairs in his bun threaten to leave the up-do, beginning to stand wildly on his head. The suit was gone, now replaced with a tight black shirt and dark grey sweats. It was giving ‘I just rolled out of bed’ but in the best way. Her eyes would flicker down to his heavily tattooed right arm. She couldn’t examine it for too long without being caught ogling him. He glances past her at the concierge clerk, lifting his brows slightly with a nod. “She’s with me.” He tells them, his gaze then shifting to his date for the night. He gestures with his head for her to walk with him, which she does. 

“So this place is nice,” Nessa mentions, trying to create small talk.

“Yeah, it’s alright.” He replies. He’s been to better, but he wouldn’t say that out loud. He didn’t want to come off arrogant to her. “How was your ride over here, though?”

“It was fine.” She answers. The Uber Black he ordered for her wasn’t necessary, but she wouldn’t dare tell him that. Obviously, he had money, so who was she to advise him how to spend it? She walked with him over to the elevator. “Thank you for that, by the way.” She says quietly.

“You’re welcome.” He says, reaching out to press the button to call the elevator. The lift would ding and then open, “After you.” He says, gently swinging one of the waffle house bags towards the inside. Vanessa followed his orders, quickly moving into the elevator. He followed behind her, his eyes fixed on the back of her head. Once inside, they both would turn to face the doors. Where Nessa was staring ahead with nervousness apparent on her face, Joe wore a big smile. He was happy she was here. She was, too. She’s still in disbelief that she chose not to be a coward for once. 

Joe presses the R button for the rooftop, prompting the doors to close and the lift to ascend the building. Nessa would glance at him, taking a second to admire his side profile. His ears, though large, fit him perfectly. His nose was straight, his cheekbones high. On those cheekbones, there were faint speckles of pigment. He was perfect. She was now back to questioning his profession. Model? He has to be. Feeling her gaze on him, Joe looks in her direction. Nessa quickly looked away, but it was too late. He had caught her staring. 

Now, it was his turn to admire her. Her face was small, but her features were the perfect size. Her nose was small but curved out to accentuate the fullness of her lips. Full lashes hid her almond-shaped eyes, but when she looked at him, he could tell they were soft and full of innocence—at least to Joe, they were. Even in this relaxed state, she was drop-dead gorgeous to him. Her hair was in a messy bun on top of her head. The black hoodie she wore was oversized, swallowing her frame. 

The elevator dings, letting them know they have reached their destination. The doors open, revealing an empty Olympic-size pool with plenty of vacant chairs lining the sides. “I got us over here.” He says, leading them beyond the pool area onto green turf. Nessa was walking behind him, still taking in the sights around her. She’s never seen the skyline of Miami from this point. The sound of waves crashing against a concrete path down below soothed her. Altogether, it was a vibe.

Joe stopped in front of his setup, and Nessa didn’t notice. She collided with his back, prompting him to turn to look over his shoulder. “You good?” He asks, laughing softly at her.

“Sorry, I wasn’t—.” She mutters, her eyes finding the scene on the faux grass before her. “Oh,” She breathes. Her reaction was everything Joe hoped it would be. He steps to the side, allowing her to take it all in. He had set up a picnic spot for them. Decorative pillows lined a white comforter spread neatly on the ground. On the comforter was a small table with an ice bucket, wine, and two crystal glasses. 

“The hotel helped me put this together. It was the best they could do with forty minutes, but I think it’s okay.” He glances at her, trying to gauge her feelings off her facial reaction. “What do you think?” He asks. She looks at him, a soft smile on her face.

“It’s perfect. Less is more.” She answers. He’d match her soft smile, now kicking off his slippers.

“Then let’s eat.” He says, moving onto the cushioned pallet. She removes her shoes, stepping on the back of the heel to take them off. Her feet would sink into the prickliness of the turf before she sat down next to him. He was opening their bags and removing their to-go boxes from the bag. “Steak and waffles for the lady.” He says, passing off the container. “I told them to include A1—just in case you needed it.” Though Waffle House was a great late-night meal, it can be a hit-or-miss.

“Thank you.” She says, giving him a small smile.

Nessa and Joe would spend the entire meal asking questions about each other. She’d discovered he was Samoan, which would explain the beautiful tattoo she’d been staring at all night. He’d find out Vanessa was the eldest sibling of three. She’d learn he was an athlete but hadn’t played football in several years. He’d learn that she was a well-established photographer and had dreams of one day opening a studio. Now, he was overseeing the family business with his two cousins. He didn’t talk about the family business, but that was all for good reason. 

He noticed something about her earlier that made him want to know her even more. Nessa didn’t know who he was before he approached her, and he appreciated it. To her, he was just another man. Something about not being recognized as one of the most prominent faces in Sports Entertainment was refreshing to him.

The pair finished their meal within thirty minutes of sitting down. Now, they were talking over a glass of wine. They lay on their sides facing each other, their elbows propped to hold up their upper bodies. “So, have you checked in with your cousins you abandoned?” She asks, peering down at her smartwatch. Joe snorts at the mention of his cousins. He’d forgotten all about them. “It’s three in the morning.” She informs him. 

“I have their locations.” He says, pulling out his phone. He had hoped they made it back to the hotel and nowhere else, or this night would be cut short. When Josh and Jon’s location appeared at the hotel, he sighed softly. “They made it back in one piece.” He informs her. 

“What are they like?” She asks, now curious about his family. His eyebrows jump at the question, and he takes a deep breath.

“They’re a lot. Luckily, Jon got his wife Trinity to keep him grounded nowadays.” He explains.

“And Josh?”

“It’s complicated with him.” There is a girl his cousin is interested in, but they are in a weird spot. He has his hopes for them, though. But he and Josh are the single ones in the group. “He’s trying to find a way out of the friend zone.” Nessa would bare her teeth at Joe, sucking in a breath through them in a hiss.

“Ouch,”

“I know, right? I admire his dedication, though.” He says, shaking his head slightly.

“I guess that runs in the family, then.” She says.

“What?” He asks.

“Being dedicated.” She replies. Joe looks up at her, those dark eyes finding her own. “Seeing that I’m here right now.” She adds.

“We were always taught that if we want something, we should go after it. No matter what it takes.” He explains. The pair would grow silent, eyes locked on eyes. There was heat building in Nessa’s chest at the sight of this man. Her anxiety was no longer a factor, thanks to the glass of wine she’d been sipping. That heat would spread throughout her body but make itself known in her ears. Why was it hot all of a sudden? Was it the wine? It had to be the wine. Red wine always did this to her. 

“Is that what you’re doing?” She asks finally.

“Mhm.” He hums. 

His gaze would become too much for her, her body feeling as if it was on fire. She begins to fan herself, taking a deep breath. “Is it hot up here to you?” She asks, her brows furrowed slightly. He chuckles softly at her.

“Might have something to do with the hoodie.” He says, plucking at the baggy sleeve with his thumb and index finger. “Although it looks comfortable, you can always take it off.” He says lowly. Where the wine was making Nessa hot, it was making Joe more confident than before. Her eyes would find his once more when he mentions her removing the article of clothing. Suddenly, she couldn’t remember if she had anything on underneath this hoodie besides her bra. 

“I-I don’t have a shirt on beneath this.” She admits. He lifts his eyebrows at her. Perhaps that was too much information. “I mean—I have a bra on, it’s just—.” She stammers. 

“This is the shirt. I get it.” He finishes for her. She’d nods, her eyes closing as she mentally kicked herself for the word vomit she spewed. “We can go in then?” He suggests. Joe begins to push himself up, sitting upright in front of her. “Get you some cool air, maybe an actual shirt?” He jokes. 

“No, no, it’s fine.” She says, holding up her hand. Her eyes shift from him to the glowing blue pool across the way. She was now pushing herself to sit up. “Question.” She says.

“Answer.” He replies, watching the side of her face. 

“Do you swim?” She’d ask, turning to look at him. She’d meet his intense gaze, her heart jumping at the sight.

Joe’s eyes would drift off from hers, now watching the large pool in the open. “You want to swim?” He asks. She grins at his question, now moving to stand to her feet. She’d down the last gulp of wine in her glass before leaning down to put it on the tray. 

“Yep,” She breathes, now walking away from her date. Joe watches after her, his eyes immediately finding the first section of skin she exposed while removing her hoodie. Nessa hooks her thumbs into her sweatpants and yank them down. There she was, standing in a matching black Calvin Klein set. Nessa eyes the water, taking a slow breath in. “Here we go,” She whispers, closing her eyes. She didn’t know what she was doing anymore and had the wine to thank for that. 

Joe’s eyes scanned her semi-clad body one last time before slowly moving to stand to his feet. She’d kicked the two articles of clothing to the side before reaching up to pull her hair from that messy bun. It’ll fall effortlessly to frame her face and cover her shoulders. She finally opens her eyes, now backing away from the edge. She was about to dive in and wanted a running start. Mentally, she prayed she didn’t trip on the way in. To embarrass herself in front of such an absolute man would be a death sentence to her. That was just her being dramatic. Joe hadn’t moved to remove any of his clothes just yet. He was in a trance he couldn’t seem to break. 

This woman was captivating to him and somehow unknowingly unique. The way she talked reminded him of himself. She never wants to receive recognition and deflects praise of any kind. Such a humble and down-to-earth woman she is. She was quiet for the most part, making it known that she was listening to him. She was what he liked precisely. He would be honest; he thought he’d never see her again after tonight. His mind kept telling him that maybe she gave him the wrong number and maybe, just maybe, she thought he was weird for approaching her while she was out with her friend. But something told him—no, urged him to call her, and here she was, standing on the rooftop of his hotel with him at three in the morning.

He should really stop being pessimistic. 

If he was truly Roman Reigns, this night would have gone differently. It wouldn’t be her on this rooftop with him, though—no, it’ll probably be some typical woman looking for a one-night stand, some easy picking, someone who knew Roman and wanted to fulfill a fantasy. He’d treat her to a night of great sex and then send her packing before the sun was up. That was what Roman would do. 

But he wasn’t Roman. His name was Joe.

Nessa takes off, throwing her body into the pool’s deep end. The water would splash around her, leaping out and onto the concrete Joe stood on. She would allow herself to sink briefly before swimming back to the top. Her head would break the surface as Nessa sucked air into her lungs. She lifts a hand, ridding her eyes of the salt water she floated in. Joe stood at the edge of the water, still watching her. 

“How’s it feel?” He asks, smiling slightly at her.

“Eh, it’s alright.” She answers. “It would probably be better if you got in.” She says, cutting her eyes up at him with a grin. She begins to float backward, allowing the giant man the space to jump in, all while still holding his gaze. She was like a mermaid trying to lure an unsuspecting victim into the water. “Take it off, take it off, take it off!” She cheers, causing Joe’s smile to grow in size.

“Alright, alright,” He says, waving his hand at her. “That’s enough of that.” He finishes, ridding himself of his shirt in an impressive one-arm swoop. Unashamedly, Nessa allows her eyes to take in the godly physique of the man standing before her. The arm tattoo had become an entire chest piece resembling armor, making him look as powerful as ever. He’s begun pushing his sweatpants down, revealing red briefs. Nessa would whistle at him, causing him to laugh and shyly turn away. “You’re making this extremely hard.” He says, no pun intended. 

“I’m just trying to hype you up.” She says with a grin. His hands go up to the bun on his head to remove his hair tie. Long black, wavy locks would drop, remaining pushed out of his face. He wrapped the hair tie around his wrist, now repeating the same steps Vanessa did. Joe backs up a few paces before charging at the pool. He leaps in, pulling his legs to his chest. His splash would be significantly larger, drenching his swimming partner in the escaping water. She’d squeal, turning to shield her face from the impact. 

Joe would pop back up, shaking the water from his hair like a dog. “Happy now?” He asks, splashing water at her with his arm. She turns to face him again, laughing softly at his playfulness. 

“Very,” She says, splashing him back. “The water suddenly feels a hell of a lot better.” She confesses. As time progressed, Nessa became increasingly flirtatious—again, she had the wine to thank for that. Joe would drift toward her, but she would drift away teasingly.

“Come here,” He requests.

“What is it?” She asks, floating back to him. Beneath the water, his arms would wrap around her, pulling her to his body. Her heart rate would soar at the feel of his hands on her body, causing her slight pain. She gasps softly in response before quickly recovering and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. They’d spin slowly, eyes watching eyes. Joe doesn’t say anything; he watches her silently through half-open eyes. There was a faint grin on his lips. “What?” She asks, hoping he’ll say something finally.

Being this close to him, having his hands on her like this, was suffocating in the best way for Nessa. The longer he remained silent, looking at her like this, the harder it was to breathe. She needed a sweet release only his words—his voice could give her right now. “You’re beautiful, Vanessa.” He says, using her full name for the first time. 

“I know.” She says before turning her head to laugh. “I’m sorry—I can’t take myself seriously.” She confesses. Her legs tangled with his the longer their spinning went on. Joe watched her with another fascinated grin on his face. 

“Hey,” He calls to her. The fingers on his right-hand curl against her skin, drawing her attention back to him. Her body responds to the action, making her press her body to his even more than it already was. “Thank you for coming to see me tonight.” He whispers. 

Her eyes lock onto his. “I’m happy I did.” She confesses. Her left-hand tangles in the back of his hair, scratching gently at his nape. He hums at the action, slowly tilting his head to the side. His eyes would venture down to her lips for only a second. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asks. Butterflies would fill Nessa at the question, her lips parting as she thought of an answer. “You can say no, I just—.” He pauses. “I’m acting off of feelings—.” Again, he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. She presses her index finger to his lips, forcing him to stop talking.

“Shhh…” She says, moving her hand from his lips. She’d cup his jaw, her thumb caressing his cheekbone. “Kiss me, Joe.” She requests in a gentle tone. His dark eyes watched her for a second longer. She, just like him, was acting off feelings. If she was sober, this would be out of the question, but you know what they say: Drunk words are sober thoughts, and she wanted him. 

Joe leans in, pressing his lips to hers. The kiss started slow to gauge her feelings about it. Once she began to return it, then and only then did he pick up the tempo. His tongue would find hers, making her moan into the kiss. Remnants of the Cabaret Sauvignon they had drank coated their tongues. If possible, they’d get drunker off this kiss alone. They’d float back toward the pool wall, their mouths still attached. Once Joe’s back and her arm hit the wall, they’d break the kiss, both panting as an aftereffect of such an epic kiss. 

Nessa hovered over him, her eyes locked on his once more. She wanted more of him. Vanessa wanted kisses. She wanted touches. Nessa wanted to be groped, marked, to have her name breathed so sweetly in her ear as she drew any and every little moan from his body. It had been entirely too long since the last time she’d been interested in a man physically, mentally, and sexually. The opportunity was presenting itself, so she might as well seize it—and so she did.

The pair would pull each other together in another crushing kiss, sealing their fate for the night and moving forward. 

CHAPTER 4

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A/N: I've been working on this damn chapter for what feels like forever (literally started it Sunday, I'm just impatient). I shouldn't be awake currently bc I have to work in 3 hours, but here I am...wide awake. The Capricorn in me never allows me to stop something once I finish it. I either will hyperfixate about it the rest of my day, or do something outrageous like stay up till 4 in the morning to finish a chapter. But now that it's finished, I will now slip into a slumber and be pissed off at myself later for doing this to myself lol

K. nighty night or good morning 😭

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