#i seriously thought he was gonna strip in the first few secs
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narashikari · 1 year ago
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Holy Helheim Hiromi
Thanks @kanelune for the sauce
Not even the Rider Trinity can save my soul now 🤣
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venusguks · 4 years ago
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Unlike You
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pairing : jeon jungkook x fem!reader
summary : As daydreamy and romantic as you are, you decided true love was going to have to wait for you tonight. That was because tonight, you were getting laid !! ...Your best friend doesn’t make it easy for you when he finds out why, though.
warnings : smut, dom!jk, sub!reader, unprotected seggs, fluff, bsf!jk, degredation, dumbification, possessive jk, jealous jk, fun sexy times, jk is whipped for mc, oral (fem receiving), body worshipping, jimin/reader but only for a sec
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“A club?” Jungkook raised his brow.
He was incredulous and slightly displeased as he watched you pace around your room. It was rare after all, new to see you like this―in a black, satin dress with a slit high enough to make him upset. He didn’t need you catching anyone else’s attention, especially in a neon lit bar full of ravenous people.  “For the seventh time, yes, Kook,” You huff, jarring your mouth slightly to dab a dreamy red over your plush lips. 
You couldn’t recall the last time you felt so confident as you applied mascara and tickled a delicate pink over your cheeks. More than anyone, Jungkook couldn’t recall ever seeing you this way, this excited to be amidst a crowd of sweaty bodies. You honestly didn’t see why he was being so apprehensive, it wasn’t like you necessarily hated parties―you just always preferred the coziness of your home better. Huge social interactions were never your thing, and that was okay. Being an introvert wasn’t something to be ashamed of anyway, but staying in came with the everyday comforts of baggy sweatpants and sweaters.
So could anyone really blame you for your excitement? You just loved the way getting ready made you feel, missed it. You already knew you were beautiful with or without makeup, but damn did it make you feel confident.
“It’s just...” Jungkook furrowed his brows and ruffled his hair. “This isn’t like you, love. Did something happen? Are you okay? We can talk about it, if you want. Whatever it is, I’m here to listen you know.” 
You sighed exasperatedly at your best friend’s reflection through your vanity. His eyes were uncertain and full of concern as he watched your figure with crossed arms. “Koo, we’ve been over this so many times already. I’m nervous enough as it is, and you’re not helping at all. I want to do this, okay? It’s been awhile. Plus, I haven’t seen the others boys in so long.”
A part of you didn’t want to be annoyed at Jungkook for his incessant worrying, but it truly was hard not to sometimes. “You’re being such a fucking dick, you know that?! Can’t I just live my life without you being so fucking hysterical about it every time?! ” It was that winter a few months ago when you unleashed all your pent up frustration. Jungkook had always been overprotective, and you appreciated him for caring, but he just made it so hard for you to even breathe sometimes. It was the biggest argument you guys ever had when you started dating a boy a few years older. You ignored Jungkook’s calls and messages for weeks, but when you discovered that he cheated on you, Jungkook was the first to be by your side. You still remember the assurance and safety you felt in his arms; with his soft lips against your forehead, murmuring sweet consolations as you sobbed on his shoulder. After that day, Jungkook agreed to be less protective. 
“I just don’t get why it has to be a club. We could meet the hyungs anywhere else, baby.”
“Oh sure, maybe a strip club would do,” you said, chuckling when you see his shock. “I’m kidding, Koo.” Though that wouldn’t be such a bad idea...
Maybe you couldn’t blame him for being so appalled. You usually opted out whenever your friends went out to celebrate, which by the way, was rather often. Night after night, the few of them would call you, practically beg until they realized their efforts would end in vain. By the morning, notifications would spam your phone of their wild night; pictures and details that showcased hookups you didn’t need to know about. Now that you think about it, it was sort of ironic that you’d always grimace to the crude texts.
That was because tonight, you decided you were getting laid.
That’s right, to hell with sweet, wholesome love! If true love had to make you wait, true love would have to wait for you too! Your subscribing 48K readers have been expecting a new chapter of Spring’s Breath, an erotica series, which you’ve delayed for 2 whole months now. You didn’t exactly know when your writers block came, but by the fourth hour you stared at your blank screen, unable to come up with any other synonym for dick or thrust or moan; or how the overused dirty talk you wrote made you cringe―you realized the firecracker you had in writing erotica died out.
It was your dear friend, Hoseok, who suggested the whole ordeal. He was the only one who knew your secret, anyway. You had so much trust in him, so when he professed that maybe if you slept with someone, your spark would come back, you had truly considered it. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. After all, no cons would come out of it. It was just odd to think about.
You have always been such a huge romantic, your literature proved it. Jungkook nor you nor anyone would anticipate you hooking up with someone just to hook up with someone. The tenderness, the connection, the intimacy... you’ve always prioritized genuine adoration over whimsical one night stands. You were an honest daydreamer, and maybe that’s why your works would always take off.
But maybe... maybe it was okay to let go once in awhile.
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When you mentioned Jungkook being less overprotective, you forgot to put an emphasis on less―because there he was, his hand possessively squeezing your inner thigh every time you even dared to look at a cute boy. You let out a frustrated sigh when he nuzzles his nose into your neck.
You tried not to mind it. It was just in his nature anyway―ever since kindergarten when he found you crying over your dropped ice cream. Jungkook left only to come back with another cone, rubbing your fat tears away with the palm of his sleeve. In elementary school, he peppered you with tiny kisses when you sobbed over the death of your kitten. You’ve only had him for a month, dedicated all your time to him and skipped play dates to care for your little serendipity―but just like that―he was lifeless. It was Jungkook who found him on the road. In middle school, he’d go through the enveloped confessions in your locker and rip them apart, saying you deserved better than any of them. You’ve always looked up to him througha lens of admiration. Everything he did for you, he did it out of thought and care. It was sweet.
It was times like these where you really started to mind though. 
You’ve been giggling with your friends for the past hour, catching up on every minuscule detail. You were sitting in a booth wedged in the middle of Jungkook and Hoseok, brimming with happiness to see Namjoon and Yoongi again. Its been so long, and your heart would swell to the stories you’ve missed out on.
The night was carrying on delightfully! ...except for the fact that Jungkook sent death glares to whoever even glanced at you. The countless of times you shyly returned someone’s gaze, only for them to rush away when they caught sight of your best friend left you agitated. When the boys were engaged in a conversation about a class they all shared together, you decided it was a good time to bring it up. 
Gulping a shot down, you let out a huff. “Kookie...”
“Yes, baby?” He whispered into your ear, his large hand grazing the access of your slitted dress.
“Stop it.”
“Stop what, love?” You sharply inhaled as Jungkook rubbed sensitive circles on your skin.
Immediately standing up, you squeezed yourself out of the booth. “I’m gonna go dance!” You yell through the loud music, avoiding Jungkook’s eyes, because seriously, the nerve of that man! The rest of your friends cheered, “We love to see you like this, y/n! Enjoy yourself, cutie!” Hoseok laughed when you blew a kiss to him. He made you feel so much more at ease, so much more confident. Okay, you got this! No use in sitting around. You couldn’t get anywhere tonight with Jungkook by your side, anyway.
Fluffing out your hair after you downed another shot, you strut your way into the dance floor. Your hips swayed in a rather alluring manner as you made your way into the crowd, your fingertips tracing seductive lines from your hips up to your waist, your neck and finally, into the air. The alcohol slowly took its effect as your confidence settled in, rolling your head back and moving your body fluidly to the loud music. 
Truth be told, you didn’t know what you were doing, just knew you must’ve looked good as hell doing it as you felt hands grip your waist. You gasped as a body pressed against your back, sticky with sweat.
“You’re so captivating, princess,” His dulcet voice was enough to make you weak...or was it the alcohol? Whatever the case, get your grip together y/n! It was just four words for star’s sake! 
“I, um, th-thank you...um! You too..” Your confidence from only moments ago dissolved with your voice. “So shy now, princess? How come? You were dancing so sexily just moments ago.” He chuckled lowly against your ear, nibbling it. You whimpered to his brazen touch, his hands guiding your hips with his. “Are you shy for me? Is that it? What a cute little princess you are... so beautiful, fuck.”
Annnnnnnnd you truly were fucked. You professed only hours ago that true love could wait, that you’d be a different woman tonight, yet you couldn’t help but feel bashful to the man’s praise. His voice and his nectar sweet words enough to make you feel wobbly.
“I’m Jimin. Can I know my princess’s name?” He pressed his hardened member against your ass, the silk thin fabric barely doing its job of coverage. “Ah Jimin,” you moaned breathlessly as he kissed your neck. “I...I’m-”
“―Mine,” a low, husky voice finished. Jungkook stood behind you, jaw clenched and arms crossed. The veins on his biceps protruded under the incandescent lights; His white shirt and tight, black jeans doing wonders to complement his physique. 
“Are you deaf? I said she’s mine so why the fuck are your hands still on her?” Jungkook had always been intimidating, even when he didn’t try―so in the rare times he did, even he scared you sometimes.
Much to your disappointment, Jimin immediately lets go, hands in the air, “sorry man, I didn’t know.”
“W-what? Wait, he isn’t my...!” Before you could try to reach for the pink haired man, Jungkook firmly takes your hand. “Y/n, we’re leaving.” You didn’t even have a second to feel shocked before he swiftly guides you through the ocean of bodies. Loud music reverberated with your disappointment, and by the time the night’s cold air stings your cheeks, you've processed what just happened―what you just missed. It’s when Jungkook latches your seatbelt on and drives that you feel anger simmer in your chest.
“Why did you...Why the fuck did you do that, Jungkook?” You were exasperated with your emotions. You just didn’t get it. You were finally having the time of your life, finally stepping out of your comfort zone, finally dancing with a guy who made you feel amazing―just to end up on a drive back home before anything could happen. “Seriously, what the hell is your problem? That was my..! He was..!” You groaned, too frustrated to conjure up words.
Jungkook scoffed, “what, y/n? He was what? Your soulmate or something?”
“I didn’t say that! And even if I think so, why does it matter?! I was having fun! I was having so much fun and you just..! (hiccup) I was having so much fun....” You cried into your hands. “I haven’t felt that way in so long, j-just for you to mess everything up. God, I can’t even muster up words right now. I hate you so much.”
“Love...” Jungkook finally sighed, shutting the engine off. You had cried the whole ride home. The anger he once felt diminished with your tears. “Baby, please look at me.” 
“F-fuck (hiccup) off, Jungkook.” You quickly unbuckled your seatbelt and opened the car door. Knowing him as long as you did, you knew he would take your chin to force you to look up at him―but you had enough of him for the night, and honestly, the whole week.
You were just so fucking frustrated at everything. At Jungkook for unnecessarily budging in, at your writers block, at your own sexual frustration left with Jimin. What did you have to offer your readers now? A heartbreak of a possible relationship that never happened with a shitty friend on the side?
You tuned out Jungkook shouting from behind you, striding to you complex and up the stairs.
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It wasn’t long after you slammed the door shut that you heard it click open again. You had forgotten Jungkook had an extra spare of your keys. “Just leave me alone, Kook.” You groaned, storming off into your room.
You kicked your heels off and stomped to your bed, taking out your frustration on your pillow where your sobs were muffled. The bed dips down when Jungkook sits beside you, silent as he caressed your hair in the way he always did to soothe your nerves.
Deciding it wasn’t enough this time, he carefully lifts you up to sit on his lap, sliding his arms around your waist to pull you into his chest. Jungkook knew you long enough to know hugs were the best remedy for you, even at your angriest moments. He knew you wouldn’t push him away.
“You jerk...” You buried your face into the crook of his neck, sniffling. “I don’t get you, Kookie. Why do you always do this?”
“I...I just wanted to protect you, baby. People have bad intentions, I didn’t want to see you end up doing something you’d regret,” His voice was gentle, brushing hair strands away from your face.
“Stars, Kook, I knew what I was doing. Whether I’d end up regretting it or not, that’s for me to sort out. I didn’t need you to ‘protect’ me. I was really enjoying myself, something I haven’t done in a long time. A-and you just..! You ruined it for me.”
Jungkook scoffed, “so you liked it then, how he was touching you? You were just going to let him fuck you?”
“Yes, Kook!” You yelled. “He could’ve fucked me in the public bathroom or in his car―in front everyone for all I care! He was hot and we were in the moment and you just interrupted! I know you care for me and I’ll always appreciate you worrying but there’s a fine line where your protectiveness should be. I’m not a kid anymore, Kook.”
Jungkook was gritting his teeth, and the two of you only glared at each other before he let out a sigh. Despite him wanting to be mad, he didn’t like making you upset. If you were going to cry because of him, he wanted it to be for an entirely different reason. 
He gently cupped your cheeks, holding your gaze with tender, sad eyes. “You know I’d do anything for you, yes? That I’ve always done anything and everything I could to help you?”
You furrowed your brows, unsure of how that related to anything, but nonetheless, you nod. “Yes, I know Kook.”
“Then why didn’t you just ask me to sleep with you, hm? If you needed help so bad, why didn’t you just ask me, baby?” You stared, dumbfounded and mouth ajar as his thumbs brushed the remnants of your tears away.
“W-What are you...?”
“Was so concerned for my baby. Hoseok got drunk and told me everything I needed to know. Did you know how hurt I was? How Hoseok knew something about you that I didn’t? Especially that you were a writer, love. I thought I was your number one, how could you keep that from me?”
“O-Of course you are, Koo! You’ll always be my number one. I just...didn’t want to tell you because it was embarrassing,” you mumbled, glancing away. Damn it Jung Hoseok! After all these years, this is when he accidentally slips it out? “Nuh uh, baby, I’m not having any of that. Look at me.”
Jungkook pressed his forehead against yours, an act you were certainly no stranger to, but nevertheless making your cheeks warm. “Not only that, you wanted to go clubbing tonight just to find a stranger to help you, is that right, baby? Wore this tiny dress just so someone could fuck you? Wanted Jimin to fuck you? Wanted to write about him fucking you in the bathroom stall?” Jungkook was speaking softly, though his words were anything but as his hands left your cheeks to trace sensuous lines up your thigh.
Your hands weakly held onto his shoulders, gasping when you felt his bulge press against your sensitive core.
“What was that you said....In his car? Wanted him to fuck you in front of everybody? Wanted to be a dirty slut just for your readers?” You didn’t know how exactly this moment came to be, but his honeyed voice brought you to a daze as you grind your hips against him. You were desperate to feel more—of anything, of him—only to let out a whine when he forcefully holds you down, burying your clothed center into his bulge. 
“I don’t think so, baby. I don’t think you deserve it,” Jungkook’s hot breath tickled your ear. You whimpered as he bit it, hands squeezing your hips. “You used to be so good for me baby, used to come to me for anything. Used to be a good little girl and depend on me. I would’ve helped you, baby. Instead, you became a dirty little slut, let another man touch you. Is that what you are now? A fucking slut?”
“N-no Kookie,” a new bundle of tears welled in your eyes at his harsh words. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sh-should’ve, ah, went to you,” you felt your body succumb to his touch. His nose brushed your jaw, placing warm kisses all over your neck before he glided his tongue down to your collarbone. “Please forgive me, I-I’ll be a good girl for you now, p-promise.”
“Yeah? Wanna be a good girl for daddy?” Jungkook licks the base of your collarbone before sucking it. “Yes..ah, yes daddy. Gonna be so good for you.” 
“And yet you weren’t,” you cried as you felt teeth sink into your skin. “J-Jung― ah, Kookie stop! Please i-it hurts!”
“You deserve this, fucking slut. You know how much you hurt me tonight? You’re secretly just a desperate whore, aren’t you? Missed your tiny cunt getting fucked so much that you’d let a stranger do it for you, hm? Answer me, slut.”
You felt tears drip down your eyes, embarrassment washing over your face. “What? You’re not going to speak now?” You shook your head in desperation. You couldn’t. How could you? It was too shameful.
You yelped when Jungkook picked you up by your waist and turned you over so your face was smushed into a pillow. “Ass up, now. Don’t make me repeat myself.” He snarled, and you immediately obliged. Jungkook was on his knees, eyes lidded to your position as he rubbed slow circles on your bare ass. “My slut is voiceless now, hm? Begged to be daddy’s good girl but can’t even answer when I talk to you. Why are you being so disobedient tonight, baby?” It happened so fast you could barely gasp as your body lurched forward to the slap. It repulsed through your skin as your right cheek stung with a faint red.
“J-J-Jungkook, ah!” You cried as another slap came, face burying further into your pillow. “I’ll be obedient from now on! s-so please! I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry, daddy!”
Jungkook’s lips pulled to a smirk, grabbing a bundle of your hair before pulling you towards him. You whimpered and he bent down so he could see your face, tisking. “Oh, my poor baby. Did that hurt? Want to be a good little girl for daddy now?” You nodded ferociously, “p-please yes daddy! I-I’ll be so good for you. Please let me be good for you!” 
Jungkook’s dick felt constrained in his tight pants. He licked his lips to your messy, desperate state. Your eyes were red and puffy, lips just the same as heavy tears streamed down your eyes. Fuck, what Jungkook would give to fuck you senseless right then and there. But no, he needed to wait, needed to be patient. You deserved this.
“Make up your fucking mind, slut. If you want to be a good girl, then take your punishment like a good girl,” Jungkook pushed your face back into the pillow before slapping your ass once more. 
You didn’t know how long it went on, only knew the room was filled with your sobbing and the alarming sound of the contact that met your bruised skin. It hurt, it hurt so much. Your thighs were trembling and both your cheeks were a lovely shade of red and purple. But no matter how much you screamed your endless arrays of i’m sorry’s, Jungkook didn’t fail to notice how your juices soaked your underwear and spilled down your thighs
“Already making such a mess baby,” He groaned to the sight, palming himself to his creation. 
“P-please....hurts so bad...please let me l-lay down daddy, can’t hold myself much longer, please,” Jungkook adored the way you sounded for him, the way he corrupted you. You were perfect there, so perfectly powerless under him. 
“Mm, keep begging baby and maybe I’ll let you,” he unbuckled his pants and discarded them, his cock throbbing to your feeble pleads. “Please, please, p-please, please daddy... please. Hurts so bad, I-I can’t... please i-i’m a good girl. I’m a good girl for daddy. I’ll do anything please.”
“Did you learn your lesson, then?”
“Yes, I-I did, daddy!”
“You’ll be a good girl and obey daddy from now on?”
“Mhm!” You nodded vigorously, and Jungkook chuckled to your desperation. He peeled your soaked thong down, lifting your limp legs momentarily to pull it off until he set you back. You were so tired you felt your thighs give up on you right then, but before you could submit to your exhaustion, Jungkook lifted your ass up higher, arching your back deeper with one hand.
“Mm I don’t think so baby. Obey daddy and keep your ass up like a good little girl.” A gasp left your quivering lips when you felt Jungkook’s breath on your throbbing core.
“You smell so sweet baby, so fucking wet for me,” Jungkook hikes your dress up and glides his tongue up your inner thigh, wiping your dripping juices clean. “Kookie, mm, please,” he trails delicate kisses over your skin, nibbling it. “Yes, baby?” 
“P-please...please Kookie..!”
“Use your words, baby. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you want.” Jungkook smiles against your thigh as he hears your soft sniffles muffled by the pillow. His poor baby, always so shy. It was true he loved to tease you, tempt you, and loved making you cry for him—but more than anything, he wanted to take care of you. “Please touch me, Koo, please.”
“Of course, sweetheart.” A sharp shiver crawls across your skin when your pleads are obliged, moaning as Jungkook stuffs his face into your cunt. He kisses your clit softly. One, two, three times before sucking it with his plush lips. His hands were the only thing keeping you up now because you practically melted to the touch. The way his tongue rolled over your sensitive bud already having you see stars. “Ah...feels so good, Kookie.”
“Yeah? Would it feel even better if I do this?” He easily slides his middle finger into your slippery hole, slowly pumping in and out. “O-oh...oh my god, more please.”
“Anything for you baby, but first,” a whimper escapes your lips when you feel him leave you, that is until Jungkook swiftly but gently flips you over so you’re finally laying on your back.
Jungkook’s breath hitches to the sight of you below him, frozen for a moment to the aching pull of his heart.
“You’re so pretty baby, so pretty,” Jungkook’s voice was sweet and smooth as he helped you undress. Fuck, did you know how much you pained him? How much he held back for you, all these years, in this moment? It was so hard not to take you right then, to kiss you until you couldn’t breathe, to touch every single part of you with his lips.
Jungkook has fantasized about you ever since he could remember, but you truly went beyond his imagination. You were so fucking beautiful. 
“...so pretty here,” he kisses your cheeks and your jaw, down to your neck. “And here,” he kisses the valley between your breasts, his hands trailing down your curves. “And here,” your stomach...and finally, taking your clit back into his mouth.
“The prettiest cunt baby, dripping so much for daddy,” he murmurs. His tongue rolls around your clit, pumping two fingers in and out of your slick pussy. It was all too much, the sensations overwhelming your senses as ungodly moans escape your mouth. You felt fuzzy and almost light headed, reaching down to hold Jungkook’s curls.
Your back arches and tears stream down your eyes from the intense pleasure exhausting you, his fingers curling into your sweet spot mercilessly. “Do you like this baby?”
“Love it so much, Jungkook,” You moaned breathlessly, looking down at him through your tears and ... wow. 
Jungkook’s brows were creased as he focused on his tongue devouring your wet cunt, plunging his two fingers steadily in and out of you. His bangs were sticking to his forehead, glossed with sweat while your hands curled around the rest. 
You were taken aback with your emotions. Was it strange, how timid you felt then? Doing this with him was supposed to be sinful, yet for some reason, it felt anything but at that moment.
It was the fact that Jungkook looked so intent, so concentrated in making you feel good. How Jungkook showed his care for you, how he always did, how he was doing right now, cherishing you with his best effort. He wanted to give you the best experience he could, wanted nothing more than to make you feel good.
It was unbearable how much your heart swelled for him.
A knot tied in your stomach, and as if noticing your stare, his eyes flutter open to look at you.“Hm, does baby wanna cum now? You can do it love, cum for daddy.”
With that, you came undone in Jungkook’s mouth. Your cries filled the room, and Jungkook opened your hole wider with his fingers, devouring your cream. The sound of slurping made your cheeks heat with an impure red. “That’s my girl, so good for daddy. So sweet for me baby, so beautiful.”
When you went limp in his arms, he gives your lips one last sweet kiss before standing on his knees. Jungkook smiles at the sight of you, already so fucked out even when he was no where near finished with you. 
He crawled forward, his forehead resting over yours once again. “Did that feel good, sweetie?” You nod shyly, your chests heaving up and down together. With rosy cheeks, you weakly bring your hands up to trace his jaw. “Jungkook?”
“Yes baby?” You melted to his dulcet voice, keeping his loving gaze. It held so much affection, so much adoration for you, you wondered why you never realized it.
“Kiss me, please.”
Jungkook smiles warmly. Without hesitation, he takes your lush, sweet lips in his. It was gentle, a kind of kiss that was so tender it made you warm with reassurance. You were kissing Jungkook—your silly, annoying, bratty, and all the while, lovable best friend of 20 years. It was strange and odd but more than anything, it felt so, unmistakably right.
You took Jungkook by surprise when you deepened the kiss, your hand squeezing his hair. He chuckled softly, pulling himself back momentarily to look into your eyes. “I love you,” he whispers.
Your cheeks heat up, but you fight your timidness as you smile back, “I love you too, Kookie.” 
With that, Jungkook delves back into your lips. A kiss that wasn’t so delicate this time. Rather, untamed and furious, as if Jungkook wanted to show you how much, how long he’s wanted this all this time.
You moaned into him as his hands groped your breasts, fingers twirling your perky nipples. “Jungkookie,” you hold your breath, feeling his clothed cock press against your core. “Fuck me please. Please, I need you so bad.”
“Yeah?” He lowers himself to take a nipple into his mouth. “Tell me how much you want it baby.” He flicked, swirled, and sucked it with his tongue, alternating with the other.
“W-Want it so bad daddy. Please, n-need you to fuck my wet pussy mm, daddy please.”
“Since you asked so nicely,” he grins and sits up, pulling his shirt over his head, discarding his boxers and...
Oh.
Your breath hitched, blinking at Jungkook’s huge, painfully hardened cock. His tip was pink with sticky, white precum dribbling down his long member. It slightly pretruded up and its veins throbbed as if it’s been aching. And truly, he was. He’s been aching to feel your walls wrap around him for so long. You have no idea how hard he’s been trying to hold himself back for you. How painful it was to—and now, seeing you there, perfect and pretty, so shy and red just for him, Jungkook wasn’t sure he could anymore.
Jungkook needed you. He needed you getting stuffed full of his cock right now.
“I-Its so big...” You gulp as he centers himself in between your legs. “I know baby, so big and ready for your tiny cunt. Can you be a big girl and take it for me baby, hm? Let daddy fuck you until he’s satisfied? Let him use you like the little cock slut you are?”
“Y-yes daddy,” you whimper as he rubs his slick tip against your soaked, smooth cunt, sliding it back and forth. “I’m yours so please, p-please just use me daddy!”
“So good for me baby, such an obedient little slut for daddy, fuck,” Jungkook groans, slipping his tip into your lush walls. You cry as he stretches you all the way out, leaving no room for you to breathe with his tip poking your tummy. Your mind felt dizzy, mouth ajar with drool slipping out even when he hadn’t even moved yet. 
“Shiiit you should see yourself baby. Such a fucking whore for daddy’s cock. Can I move, baby? Or can this tiny little pussy not take my big cock?”
“I-I..mm, please, I can take it! Please fuck me daddy!”
“That’s my girl.” Jungkook starts off painfully slow but just as painfully hard, pushing your knees to your chest. He completely draws himself back so he can see his glistening, twitching tip before driving himself back into your core. “Shit baby, your pussy’s so, fuck, tight.” Jungkook moaned to how your breast bounced up and down every time he shoved himself in.
You were sobbing by the time he quickened his pace, the intense sensation having you light headed. Jungkook loved the way you looked under him, eyes rolled back with buried balls deep inside of you. “You like this baby? Love my cock filling you? Answer me.”
“L-love mm love so m—ah, Kookie..! f-feels so....g-good daddy.”
“Look at you, baby. Can’t even talk with daddy’s cock stuffing you. Such a dumb slut for daddy, so fucking hot baby.” Jungkook moans, juices spurting everywhere and dampening the sheets with every thrust.
“I-I’m not d-dumb..!” You whimpered, fat tears streaming down your eyes. Jungkook smirks, licking his lips.
“Aww, of course you are baby. Just a dumb little cock slut for daddy. Can only think of daddy’s cock, can you?”
You can’t bring yourself to answer, your mind too scrambled with each and every thrust. Jungkook was going so fast, so hard, you felt so full.
“That’s what I thought baby. My sweet girl, fucked dumb for daddy. You only need daddy’s cock, nothing else.” Jungkook positioned your legs over his shoulders, clenching on to them to drill deeper into your tummy.
“Oh, o-oh my god, ah d-daddy...! ‘m your slut...love your dick so m-much...love being stuffed with cock.” Jungkook groaned to your sinful moans, feeling his stomach tighten.
“Just want daddy to cum inside you, don’t you? Want daddy to fill you up until you’re dripping with my cum, baby?”
“Y-yes, please daddy! Want daddy’s cum so bad! Please give me cum..!” Jungkook shoves his thumb inside of you plush lips, and god, he’s so proud of his work, so proud of you. You were taking his thumb like a good girl, sucking it as if it were his cock.
Jungkook felt his dick throb inside of you, aching for release. He pulls his thumb out with a pop of your wet lips, coated with saliva, and rubs figures over your clit. You scream, gripping onto the sheets. it was so much, too much for you to handle. Your back arches as he abuses your clit and sloppily fucks your hole.
“J-Jung–Jungkook, ah, please! Kookie! I-I’m..!”
“Its okay, baby, its okay. Gonna cum with daddy, hm? You can do it baby, sweet girl, cum for me,” Jungkook cooes, attempting to soothe your nerves, but his words are breathless and ragged. He thrusts in and out one, two, three, four more times until he burries himself deep inside you, spurts of thick cum filling your womb.
Jungkook groans as your pussy clenches around him, and you’re a sobbing, moaning, wet mess as you milk him. “Fuck, my sweet girl. Taking my cum like a big girl baby. So good for daddy, so fucking good for me.” With his praise, you feel yourself release soon after. Jungkook continues to thrust in and out of you, helping you ride out your high.
When he feels you falter in his arms, he pulls out and lays on top of you. Both of you stay like that for awhile, exhausted and in a daze.
With your moist bodies tangled with one another’s, you shut your eyes. You can hear Jungkook’s heartbeat hammer against yours, you short-winded breaths, and the soft whirring sound of the air conditioner.
Moonlight filtered in through your windows, casting a luminescent glow on Jungkook’s skin when he pushes his upper body up, his shoulders resting on either side of you.
Jungkook had spent the whole night cherishing you, telling you how pretty you were, and yet there he was—so ethereal under midnight’s grace. How could he be real?
You bring your hand to caress his cheeks. You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.
In that moment, so intimate and sacred, His doe, gentle eyes that you could get lost in—that hold all the lost stars of the night sky, tell you all you need to know.
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You yawn, stretching your arms high up. “Here’s your order maam,” two porcelain cups of matcha are placed in front of you, steam following it’s every movement. You mumble a thank you, smiling before your eyes drift to the man at the other side of the cross walk.
He’s wearing all black as per usual, revealing the beautiful tattoos that adorned his tan skin. His hair was tousled and he looked sleepy—after all, he’d just gotten out of class—but as soon as the crosswalk lights up with green, you chuckle when he sprints across and into the shop.
The bell that hung by the door didn’t even finish ringing before he runs to you, sweeping you off your chair and into his arms. “Kookie, let me down!” You giggle, but nonetheless wrapping your arms around his neck.
“I’m so proud of you baby,” he nuzzles his nose into yours. “You finally published it right? The twenty second chapter?”
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a / n : ahhhhh its exactly 3:01am and i have class in the morning which is why the middle ending is super rushed sorry ! i truly wonder why i do this to myself.
this is my first smut fanfiction so i’m not sure how i did , but if anyone ever reads this , i hope you enjoyed ! i dont think im cut out to write smut, i truly did have headaches thinking of synonyms for thrust and dirty talk . i really admire smut writers ,, writing smut is not as easy as it seems !!
anyways , sending love abundance and happiness your ways. you deserve love, you’re worthy of love, and you are love.
stay safe and healthy starlights <3
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plan3tlvrs · 4 years ago
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Pinky
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Summary⛧ eren a underground mafia leader visits a strip club with his friends.
Contains ⛧ 18+, nsfw, oral sex, (male and female receiving), riding, mentions of spit, gagging, face fucking, spanking, car sex, modern au 
2.k+ words
⛧ x fem!reader
⛧ mafia eren
A/n⛧ this is my first post so I hope you all enjoy and feel free to leave request.
Saturday night’s was when the club you worked at got the most customers; it was called the Pinky. You’ve worked there for almost two years now, first starting when you were a sophomore in college. Of course, you needed the money to pay for your tuition fast and debt free as your college days were ending and you were soon to be graduating. 
You landed this job with a friend that you met in college. Her name was Jenny. You didn’t think you would qualify for the job, but somehow Jenny worked her way around the requirements and here you are almost two years later. 
The club was lit up with different colored LED lights, mainly pink obviously. 
"Hey I need you at table ten in about five minutes" Rick, your manager, spoke to you through the mirror with a clipboard in his hands. 
You nodded and adjusted your outfit so you wouldn’t be uncomfortable all night. It was packed and you knew it by the sound of the crowd outside the dressing room door. You could see the strobe of the lights peeking from under the door as people passed by. 
Ruffling your hair in the mirror, you checked yourself once more and made your way out of the dressing room. Heels clicking on the floor as you surf through the crowd of people and make your way to the bar and pick up your notepad and pen. 
"Yo _____ did Rick tell you about table ten?" Jenny yelled over the music while sitting at the bar. She was on one of her many breaks of the night. 
She rarely did anything but somehow still managed to make money. 
"Not really, he just told me he needed me there in ten minutes" You looked at your phone before shoving it back in your pocket "well now two". 
Jenny laughed a little before putting her drink down. "You see those group of guys in the booth over there" 
You looked over at the booth and saw four men seated in all black from head to toe. They all had some type of expensive jewelry on, as you could tell from the watches, rings and chains they had, including some of them having piercings. 
"Yeah, what about it?" 
"Well, I heard that they are part of the biggest underground mafia in the city. Apparently they come here often and tip big. That's why Rick is always quick to get someone to their booth." Jenny reached over the bar and poured another drink. 
You studied them more as she spoke about them. The one on the far right sported a mullet, with a slight scruff forming around his face. Next to him, the blond had somewhat of a bowl cut that surprisingly went well with his undercut. You could see his piercing blue eyes from where you were standing. The third person was a brunette with his hair in a low messy bun, with a few pieces falling around his face here and there. To you, he was the most attractive. The way he sat with his legs spread, not even bothering to care about the men seated around him, showed that he carried himself highly. And lastly, the one at the end had a buzz cut, his hair kind of shady gray. You don't know how he pulled it off, but somehow he did. 
"The one with the mullet is kind of cute don't you think?" Jenny spoke, snapping you out of your trance.
"Eh I'm leaning towards the one with the bun" You placed your hand on your hip before looking at the clock above the shot glasses. "Shit" You hissed, turning back to Jenny, "I gotta go. I'll catch up with you later tonight?" 
Jenny dragged, obviously a little tipsy, "Yeah girl, go make that money."
Laughing, you walked away and, to your utter surprise, the table Rick had assigned you to wait at was in fact the so-called mafia gang Jenny was babbling about. 
"Good evening gentleman, can I get a few drinks started for you?" Taking out your notepad and pen, you looked at the men scanning them as they all stopped talking. 
The brunette with the man bun stared at you harshly with his green orbs before he spoke, his voice taking you back a bit. 
"Yeah, I'll take you and a round of vodka shots for me and my boys," the brunette smirked, looking around at his friends as they all let out small laughs. 
"Okay, vodka shots and some manners coming right up," you scribbled on your notepad as you returned your gaze to the brunette.
By now, his friends were astonished at your response and found themselves bursting into laughter as if it was the funniest thing on the planet. 
"Damn Eren, she really got you didn’t she" The one with the buzz cut said, slapping his hand on the brunette's shoulder. 
"I'm not gonna lie Eren, she's got sass. "The one with the brown mullet said, leaning back into the booth more. 
"Shut it horse face you too baldie," Eren said sternly, and the two men immediately straightened up.
"Tch" you said before walking away to retrieve their shots.
Eren watched you walk back as your hips moved with ease and your thighs rubbed together against the skimpy uniform shorts you wore. He could feel himself tighten up in his lower region. 
"Alright, a round of vodka shots will that be all for now?" As you leaned down to place the tray of shots on the table, your deep cleavage was visible as you leaned back up.
"Actually, I would like a dance" Eren spoke up, looking at you. 
"Sure, I'll go get someone for you. Just give me a sec" Before you could walk away, Eren spoke again. 
He leaned up from the booth, resting his elbows on the table with both of his fists under his chin.
"No from you" he said, looking you in the eyes. 
"Sorry pretty boy, I'm just the waiter" you said, picking up the tray of now empty shots. 
"I'll pay you name your price," Eren said before you walked away.
He just doesn't stop does he? 
"I don’t need your money" You turned your heels to make your way back to the bar. 
"Ten grand take it or leave it" 
You swear your heart stopped beating for another ten grand? That was more than you made here at night. That was more money than you made in a week, and you could really use it. You stood there deep in thought before making your decision. 
"Fine, but it can't be here. I could get fired" 
Eren smirked widely "That’s fine with me baby. My car is just out back when your shift is over. Meet me out there yeah?" He leaned back and continued a conversation with his friends who couldn't believe what had just happened. 
You waited tables and helped the bartender all night. Sometimes you would catch a glance of Eren staring at you with a hard gaze as you chatted up with people in the crowd which was made up of manly men. 
Eren had seen you talking to another group of guys laughing at something the raven haired man had said. For some odd reason, it made his blood boil like tea in a kettle. He was watching you the whole night and you knew it. Just by your body language, he could tell that you knew his eyes were on you every step you took. 
"Dude, you gotta stop staring at her like that it’s becoming creepy" The one with the buzz cut spoke. 
"Connie I'm not being creepy, I'm just observing" 
"Jean tell Eren he’s being weird," Connie said, rolling her eyes. 
"Is he being weird or creepy? "Pick one, Connie," the blond said, picking up a shot glass.
"Oh shut it Armin" Connie said harshly, leaning back into the booth. 
"Well, he is being kind of weird but-" The one with the mullet spoke after downing what was his sixth shot. 
"Thank you! Jean "Connie exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. 
"I wasn't finished Connie" Jean said, looking at him. "What I was going to say before I was so rudely interrupted was that it seems like Eren here has the hots for her already" 
By 2am you were in the backseat of Eren's car with his cock shoved down your throat. You didn’t know how a lap dance could turn into this, but it did. 
"Fuck yes just like that" Eren kept his hand on your head tangled in your hair as you bobbed your head up against his length.
Eren was bigger than most guys you had been with, but you weren't complaining as he shoved himself down your throat more and more with the push of his hips, lifting him lightly off the seat. You pushed your head as far as you could take him, your nose meeting the top of his stomach. He was seriously toned and had strong abs along his stomach. You gagged around him slightly as spit formed around your mouth and dripped down his shaft to his thighs. 
"You're taking me so well baby yes" Eren praised you as his eyes stayed on yours. 
Looking up at him, you could see that the bun he had on his head was falling out as sweat formed around the baby hair on his forehead. He looked so good above you like that as he smirked, catching you in a starry gaze with his dick in your mouth.  
He pulled you from his length, a trail of spit connecting you to his head. 
"Lay down" Eren ushered
Eren was already removing your skimpy shorts as you lay in the back seat.
"Watching you walk around all night in these made me want to ruin you even more," he said as he stroked your thighs.
"Yeah?" you inquired.
"Yeah" His voice was raspy as he grinned at you.
"Do it" you said eagerly. 
"Be careful what you wish for princess" 
Eren toyed with the hem of your panties, staring down at your aroused cunt, seeing it clench at nothing. He took his thumb and ran it over the material circling around your clit as you squirmed for more. 
"Fuck" 
"Use your words baby, tell me what you want," Eren said as he continued his actions. 
"Please" You squeaked 
"Please what" 
"Please fuck me" You pleaded with your eyes wide. 
"Don’t worry, I planned on it" 
Eren pulled your panties off as the hot air of the car hit your cunt. Bending his head down, he placed a soft kiss on your bud, trailing it down to your hole. Licking from the entrance to the top, he gripped your thighs in his hands, working his tongue at a fast pace, taking some time out to even suck on your clit. 
You were a moaning mess, your head pressed against the backseat window of his Mercedes. The windows were fogged up all over and there was a strong odor of sex in the air, but that didn't bother you. You could care less about getting caught by the club security guard. The thought of getting caught made you want to continue even more. 
Eren let go of your right thigh and reached for your soaking cunt, which was mixed with your slick and the spit from his mouth in one. Trailing his two fingers around your hole, he collected your juices before bringing them to your lips. 
"Open" He spoke slowly. 
You opened your mouth, allowing him to push his fingers inside, swirling your tongue around the tips before going all the way down to his knuckles. You could taste the sweetness of your cunt on the tips of his fingers. 
He watched you with lazy eyes and a smirk, grunting "fuck you look so hot right now". 
Eren pulled his finger out of your mouth, trailing them back down to your pussy before entering the two digits. His fingers began to move at a steady pace before you urged him on with your moans. As you grabbed the handle bar above the window to keep yourself from collapsing, his fingers hit the perfect spot.
He was so good with his fingers, the way he would move them against your walls. You couldn’t wait to feel the rest of him inside you. 
"Eren I'm gonna-" You let out a panted breath as he latched his mouth to your clit once again, flicking his tongue as his fingers continued their work. 
"Hold it," Eren said before pushing his fingers knuckle deep inside of you, hitting your g-spot every time.
Your legs shook as he held your left thigh in his hand and your right thigh over his shoulder, preventing you from closing your legs. Placing a hand on top of his head, pushing his hair from his face. He looked like a Greek god from below, those green irises glistening in the moon light that peaked through the fog of the window. You could hear the music from the club still going on and people walking through the parking lot. 
"Fuck Eren, I'm gonna cum right there" Your hands gripped his hair tightly as he let out a groan. 
"Your gonna cum all right, all over my dick now come here" Eren separated himself from your pussy by grabbing you by the hips and squeezing you into his lap.
Hands went behind his head to grip the back of the seat. Eren teased the tip of his cock against your slick folds, getting it wet with your arousal before pushing the tip in bit by bit. You shuttered above him, eagerly waiting for him to enter you fully. 
"Stop teasing" you said, looking him in his eyes. 
"You sure you can take it?" 
He grinned as you nodded your head, quickly placing his hands on your hips, he slammed your hips down. Letting out a wincing moan at how big he was inside of you, his tip kissing your cervix. Eren started guiding your hips in a back and forth movement after letting you adjust to his size. He was long and thick, splitting your walls perfectly. 
You moved your hips at a steady pace while leaning your face in the crook of his neck, kissing him softly and nipping at the skin. You wanted him to remember how he ruined you in the back of his car for the next week. You wanted him to constantly think about how he fucked you into oblivion. 
"Good girl, you're taking me so well, darling," Eren grunted, lowering his hands to your groin and gripping the flesh with both hands. He gave it a few slaps as he started to go faster with each one. They left his large hand to bring in red markings.
Of course, he had fucked many girls before, but you were his favorite by far. Your attitude made him want to have you even more. He wanted to teach you a lesson. 
Eren stopped your hips and lifted you up slightly. 
"Let me do some work," he said before ramming his hip into you at a fast pace. 
Your mouth hung open and jaw slack as he fucked you into next year. Eyes rolling into the back of your head and tears forming at the ends of your eyes. 
"Shit shit shit right there don’t stop" Your hand reached up to grab your breasts, which were still hidden beneath your bra.
You detached your hands from around the seat and around your back to take off your bra as he fucked you into the roof of the car your head almost hitting the ceiling. Eren took your naked breast into his mouth while looking up at you as if he was innocent. Eyelashes fanning against the skin as his hips continued to meet your ass. 
"Yeah right there you like that don’t you?" "Use your words, baby," Eren grunted, jutting his pelvis into yours.
"I do, oh my god." Your hands wrapped around the base of his nape, holding onto it. 
Eren grabbed your neck making you look him in the eyes as he fucked you. Brining you down as your lips connected with each other’s molding perfectly. His tongue entered your mouth as your moans muffled.
His moans became staggered signaling that he was close to his own release.
A few strokes later, you felt the bubbly feeling in your stomach reappear again and your legs began to shake more than they already were. By now tears had streamed down your face and your mascara running. Eren smirked as he watched you cry, giddy with delight at seeing you gasp for him every time he jutted his length into your walls.
"I'm cumming" You spoke as your orgasm ripped through you like a blade. 
Legs shaking as Eren continued to fuck into you, pulling out at the last minute to release himself over your stomach. 
You rested your head on his shoulder and it was silent as you both tried to catch your breath. Rolling to the seat next to him, you sat sweaty and sticky with arousal. Looking to the side, Eren was doing the same but staring at you out the corner of his eye with a grin before speaking.
"So you want ten grand or are you gonna let me take you on a date?"
_________________________
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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 4 years ago
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COSMIC - S3:E1; Chapter One, Suzie, Do You Copy? - [Pt. 5 - FINAL]
A Will Byers x Reader Series
Summer brings new jobs and budding romance. But the mood shifts when Dustin’s radio picks up a Russian broadcast, and Will senses something is wrong.
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a.n: thank you guys so much for waiting, I know it must have frustrating but I don't regret taking time off. FYI i ended up skipping some scenes like Hopper's talk with Mike and Joyce going home cause I just kept getting stuck
||𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||
Dustin is the first to reach the top of the hill, his sister, the last. And when she does, she hastily unhooks the bag from her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground before she does.
"We made it!" Dustin happily declares, choosing to ignore the bitter attitude of his cranky and overheated friends.
"Yeah, only took five hours." Max sighs, dumping her weight on the grass beside Y/n who buried her heated face in the cool grass.
"Quick," Y/n groaned, rolling herself over onto her back. "someone... water. I'm gonna be a raisin soon... please,"
Lucas's face lit up at the mention and instinctively he dropped the bag off of his shoulder and retrieved their shared canteen of water. Y/n's eyes fluttered closed and a frail smile strung across her face when she saw this. Lazily, she reached for it, expecting Lucas to hand her the refreshments she had asked for.
But a frown quickly flew across her face when she heard the flat splashing of water on grass and the obnoxious sound of guzzling. Hesitating against the downpour of golden sunlight into her eyesight, she allowed her eyelids to unscrew just enough to see Lucas downing the rest of the group's water.
Her lips drew back into a snarl, ready to chastise the boy, but her friend had beat her to the punch.
"Did you seriously just drink the rest of our water?" Max deadpans, her icy glare piercing Lucas.
"Nope," Answered Y/n from her spot on the grass, eyes peeling open again to scowl at Lucas. "I know for a fact he wouldn't do that, Max, cause that would mean I'd have to kick his ass."
Lucas cautiously met her eye, his puffed-out cheeks filled with water slowly drained themselves back into the canteen leaving behind a sheepish smile. He held out the container for Max, then Y/n as a peace offering. All he was met with were tired glowers.
"That's it. Your ass is grass, Sinclair," Y/n seethed, no real threat behind her words. Or her actions, as she showed no signs of moving other than the depleting motion of her tired heaving from her spot on the grass and a lazy pointed finger hanging in the air in his direction. It fell back to the ground. "You know, after I get up. The moment I do, it's over for you,"
Despite the creeping smirk, Max rolled her eyes at the duo as she grabbed for the duffle bag she had previously been carrying.
"Is it just me," she addresses the group as she unpacks, her mischievous smirk blossoming on her pink cheeks. "or has Y/n gotten meaner?"
Everyone shares a hum of laughter that floats amongst them, including Y/n who smiles to herself pleased, her eyes once again closed.
Unknowingly, Dustin does the same as he unpacks his duffle. A fleeting sense of deja vu passes over him.
"Yeah, it's my probably my fault," he says, beginning to put the first pieces of the Cerebro together. "all that time we spend with 'that douchebag' Steve Harrington,"
"Hey," pipes Y/n shortly. Thinking of the running joke that had started up earlier in the year thanks to Robin, her voice falls into a mocking tone. "don't talk about mom like that, Dustin."
Dustin gives her a funny look before ultimately rolling his eyes as she laughs quietly to herself. The sight drew a smile on Will's face and he briefly paused his unpacking to smile at her, then shook his head returning to work.
"Weirdo," Dustin mumbles. "Alright, sunbathing time is over. Come on. Get up and help us!"
It's Y/n's turn to roll her eyes and she does so with another impressive groan, though she does comply. She rolls herself over and sits herself up so she is sitting on her folded legs, and gets to work on the bag she had previously discarded.
What members of the party remain pull together underneath the setting sun and got to work. Under Dustin's word, the team was able to make quick work of the scraps they had lugged with them.
Lucas, Max, and Dustin took up the work of assembling the base of the radio antenna as Will and Y/n got to work dismantling several bare umbrellas for the makeshift directors. Dustin, who had been so engrossed in his work, had gotten to his third strip of tinfoil only to realize the roll was running thin and that Y/n had been sneaking strips to make various types of hats; one shaped like a baseball cap resting on her head, the second on Will's was shaped like a wizards cap to match Will the Wise, and a third, half-finished cowboy hat sat tucked away behind her back on the grass when Dustin's suspicions grew.
Dustin had learned better with the duct tape; keeping it on his person and only distributing it to those who asked. And he had been so caught up in it guarding the duck tape to avoid another incident he failed to stop the first.
After finishing her section of Cerebro, Y/n had gotten to work on her "side project", this one in the shape of a bucket hat for Max. Dustin tried to scold her again, but she knew they were just about one strip of duct tape away from finishing.
After some conniving on Max and Y/n's part—out of an act of spite, Max defiantly accepted the cap with honor as Y/n placed it on her head, both of them glaring at Dustin—the party came together to hoist the now finished Cerebro into the summer air.
"Pretty impressive, right?" Dustin declares as they all gaze up at their finished work.
Several of them nod.
"Now," he says, all but throwing himself on the grass beside the receiver. "ready to meet my love?"
Dustin is met with scattered agreement.
"Yeah,"
"Sure,"
"Go ahead,"
Y/n, however gladly takes a seat across from her brother, stretching herself out in the grass as she finally enjoys the absence of work in the sun. "Dustin, as your sister, I can honestly say that I have been waiting for this moment all my life. Fair warning though, I will be talking her ear off."
A hopeful grin touches Dustin, slowing blooming on his face. And despite her next words, he finds himself laughing a little.
"But I'm afraid I can't promise I won't be telling her anything and everything embarrassing about you."
His face falls flat, a hint of playfulness still lingering. And as he does so, Will gives into Y/n's lead and takes a seat beside her in the grass. Dustin only narrows his eyes at the pair.
"Telling you really was a mistake, wasn't it?"
Y/n breaks out in a devilish grin and she is unable to stop the quiet cackle that tumbles out of her, yet still it turns Will's insides to jelly. He, like his friends, had been watching the siblings' exchange with great amusement.
"Yes," she agrees, eagerly. "yes it was."
Dustin rolls his eyes before bringing the device up to his mouth, his fingers already on the speaker button.
"Suzie, this is Dustin. Do you copy? Over."
A silence falls over the group as they wait, the only sounds to fill it are the crackling of the Cerebro's interference and the sweet sounds of nature that put even Max at ease. But no response comes.
Dustin shrugs it off, scratching his nose nervously as he mutters softly up to his waiting friends.
"One sec. She's probably... She's still there," he smiles, turning back to the speaker in his hand. "Suzie... This is Dustin. Do you copy? Over."
The others begin to shift uncomfortably where they stand; the awkward tension growing heavy in the air and they share uneasy glances outside of Dustin's field of vision.
"I'm sure she's there," says Dustin, his voice so soft and quiet it was nearly carried away by the breeze. "You know, maybe, she's just like, busy or--"
"Yeah," Lucas quickly agrees, avoiding eye contact and adjusting his cowboy hat.
"You know, it's around dinner time."
Everyone is quick to mumble an agreement, and Y/n, desperate for something to keep her busy and her mind off of whatever was happening mindlessly pulled a pack of gum from her pockets. Her eyes were fixed on a random spot in the grass as she unwrapped a bit of f/f gum and slipped into her mouth. Before putting the packet back, she just as mindlessly pulls another slip and offers one to Max who gladly accepts.
"Suzie," Dustin tries again. "this is Dustin. Do you copy? Over."
Will watched Dustin continue his efforts to contact his girlfriend and couldn't help but note the bit of sadness growing in his chest at the sight. Dustin seemed so hopeful, and to see—
The spiraling thought was interrupted when he felt something move his hair; he smiled when he realized Y/n was readjusting the tinfoil wizard's cap on his head that had been slipping. He breathed a quiet laugh, watching her lips twitch up in a smile as she readjusts a few strands of hair she had messed up
"Suzie, do you copy? This is Dustin. Over."
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
"...do you copy? Over."
The summer moonlight spilled out onto the hill still occupied by five of seven party members; Max and Lucas, who lie on their backs side by side as they stargaze together while Dustin was still at Cerebro. Will—like his friends—wanted to make most of the scenery and found himself sprawled on his back in the grass. The back of his head was resting on Y/n's leg as she mindlessly played with his hair, her stare a million miles away. His eyes began to flutter closed having grown content by her warm and soothing touch.
"Suzie! This is Dustin, do you copy? Over."
The breeze picked up in a pleasant wave, making the trees sing around them. And it was gentle enough to pull Y/n from her thoughts, and back on her brother.
"Suzie, this is your Dustin. Do you copy? Over."
It dawned on her just how hard it was to see him in the darkness, and it hit her just how long they had been there. As her fingers continued to fiddle with Will's bangs, her downcast eyes landed on his face; the sight of him in a state of such relaxation put a smile on her face and a warm feeling in her chest.
He had been through so much for so long and was given so little time to readjust. This was one of the many reasons she enjoyed planning campaigns with him; he was always in his element, supercharged and bursting with ideas. That is when he could manage not to lose concentration whenever a love song came on the radio that didn't make him all dopey and lovesick.
At the thought, Y/n felt a heat creep all over her skin as it always did whenever she thought about Will—but she knew it had nothing to do with her powers. It was just Will. And his innate ability to lift her spirits higher than the skyline while simultaneously bringing her back down to earth; A superpower all his own.
Just as it had happened only just the other night with Will, the lovesick gaze holding her hostage was broken when the other took notice.
"What?" Will whispered up to her in a funny smile.
The softness in his voice pulled Y/n back down and into reality where she was faced with the embarrassing truth of being caught. She shook her head with a simper, a mischievous idea blooming in her mind as one hand crept out of sight and curled around the discarded tinfoil hat he placed in the grass.
"Nothing," she whispered, shrugging. Y/n scrunched her nose as she put on a silly look of fake disgust. "Just getting tired of this ugly mug is all,"
She placed the tinfoil hat over his face where it wobbled, threatening to fall. Y/n smiled again, breathing a laugh through her nose as he laid there still. Oh, so easily she could imagine the unimpressed look now plastered on his face.
"Funny," came his muffled, echoed response.
"Right?"
"Suzie, this is—"
"Dustin!" Cried Max suddenly. Her frustration had been growing with every call and it was a wonder she hadn't broken yet. "Come on! She isn't there."
"She's there, alright?" Dustin argued. "She'll pick up,"
Will craned his head up to look at the disturbance and in doing so sent the tinfoil dunce cap tumbling off his face and back into the grass.
"Maybe Cerebro isn't working?" Will offered.
"Or maybe Suzie doesn't exist," wondered a greatly agitated Lucas.
"She exists!" Dustin defended, the pitch of his voice rising as he got more defensive.
"She's a genius AND she's hotter than Phoebe Cates?" Lucas countered. "No girl is that perfect."
Max shot up from her spot in the grass and cast down a look at her boyfriend.
"Is that so?"
Lucas is quick to back peddle and throws himself into a sitting position with a growing look of concern.
"I mean," Lucas stammers. "you're perfect. I mean, you-you're per—I mean like you're perfect in your special way—you're own special way."
Max finally releases the laugh she had been holding in and shakes her head. "Relax, I was teasing. I'm obviously perfect and Dustin is obviously lying."
"Max," Y/n sighs. Her eyes flickering sympathetically to her brother who is downcast.
But Max doesn't think much of it and climbs to her feet. She throws her hand out for Lucas to take and pulls him to his feet. "Come on, Don Juan."
Together they start down the hill, prompting the final couple remaining to follow as they pick up the pieces left behind.
"Where are you going?" Dustin calls out to Max and Lucas.
The redhead barely throws a look over her shoulders as they retreat. "Home,"
Y/n watches with great disappointment as they retreat down the hill. She finally broke away when Will offered his hand from where he was standing.
"Well, guess it's just us," says Dustin longingly, not yet realizing they too were heading out.
"Um," he checks his watch, wincing at the timing. Like his girlfriend, he sends Dustin an apologetic look. "it's late. I'm sorry."
Dustin doesn't bother to hide his disappointment, but Will perks up with a hopeful smile. "But maybe tomorrow we can play D&D?" He flashes a smile to Y/n. "We've been working on a campaign lately. We've been dying to show you, we think you'd like it."
Y/n nods eagerly. "Yeah, and maybe you can tell us more about Suzie?"
"Yeah," Her brother nods, sad eyes still locked on the grass and limply his shoulders rise in a shrug. "sure."
Will tries again, giving his friend an earnest smile. "Welcome home,"
Dustin nods again and Will begins down the hill. He looks back when Y/n's hand slips out of his own to see her lingering. "I'll catch up in a minute,"
Will nods and starts after his friends leaving the Henderson siblings alone. Dustin is the first to break the ice, his voice sullen.
"She is real, you know," he mumbles, head nearly sagging all the way to the grass.
"I believe you, Dustin," says Y/n. She gestures to Will's retreating form with a gentle smile. "We both do."
His mood doesn't lift but Dustin's gaze does curiously. He's surprised to find nothing but sincerity in her eyes.
"I'm sorry about today. I really am. We were really looking forward to it," pessimism flashes across her face. "well, I know Will and I were."
"Is that why you guys are leaving?" He can't help but ask bitterly, making Y/n frown.
"You know it's not like that," subconsciously she starts fiddling with her watch to take away from the worry that had been growing all day. Her gaze stays on Will and the longer it does the more obvious it is she's scared. "It really is getting late and... Well, honestly I think something's bothering him. Like there's something he's not telling me. I don't know, it could be nothing but I'd feel better if I saw him home."
"I guess I can't blame you for being careful with him. I just— I guess I pictured today going a lot differently."
Y/n nods. "I did too."
A small silence falls between them. It's filled with nothing but unsaid words and the melodic choir of crickets singing to the night sky.
"For what it's worth, I know I've been teasing you pretty bad but... I am really excited to meet Suzie. I'm sure she's great,"
"Thanks," For the first time since before the sun had set, Dustin's lips hook upward in a threat to smile. "She is..."
"Get home safe, Romeo," Y/n quips. When he sends her a soft 'you too' she decides it's gotten too chummy and impulsively she yanks his hat over his eyes, chuckling at the look on his face.
Dustin chuckles under his breath and eagerly fixes his hat just in time to watch Y/n scurry down the hill to catch up with Will.
"You too," he mumbles more to himself than anything.
He watches as Y/n casts one apologetic look over her shoulder and that's that. He now stands alone on the hill next to the homemade radio tower, watching sadly as everyone leaves. It's nearly enough to break the dam of tears he can feel collecting in his eyes but he perseveres.
And nearly jumps out of his skin when the transceiver comes to life. It angrily spits out static and Dustin throws himself to the ground, making a grab for the speaker.
"Suzie? Suzie is that you?"
A voice can be heard here and there; not the voice of his beloved Suzie but much deeper, and unmistakably Russain. He snaps himself out of his daze and makes quick work of doing his best to clear the interference. His assessment was right; the voice was Russian, and it calmly spoke a string of words he wished desperately to understand. And yet, no matter how confusing, he can't help but feel his skin crawl with excitement when he realizes...
Cerebro had just intercepted a top-secret Russian transmission. Arguably the most vital piece in the puzzle of what would come to be known as the most important summer of their young lives.
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lovewriting-5 · 4 years ago
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Wastelands:
Tumblr media
*photo is not mine*
8. Paradise Lost
10. Bad Harvest
Side note: I reversed the roles in this one. I’m not writing smut.
*I know I had him get a haircut in “Campfire Tales” but this was the best picture I could find*
9. Midnight Swim:
I can faintly hear Sean’s footsteps behind me. We reach the lake. I reach the edge of the lake and pause. Sean comes up behind me. He places his lips to my right temple and asks “Ready for this?” I hesitate, “I’m not sure.”
Sean gives me a wink and begins stripping down. I turn away in surprise. “What exactly did you have in mind, Diaz?” I ask. He says nothing and starts walking into the water. Sean begins “Oh fuck! FUUUCK! Whoo! Yes, I’m in! What are you waiting for?!” I dip my fingers into the water, “Oh, fuck this! It’s freezing!”
He’s swimming a little back and forth, “It’s all in your head! Just don’t think about it!” I mumble to myself “Huh...sure...Don’t think...”
I roll my eyes and give in. I begin lifting my shirt when he says “Whoo!” I give him a smirk and do a rotating motion with my hand. He throws his head back, “Really?” “Please.” I say. “Fine.” As he spins to face the forest behind him.
I strip down and make my way into the freezing water. “Brrrr...Okay, here I come...I think...” I tell him. I go as far as the top of the water reaching just below my clavicle. Sean turns back around, “You look a little cold. Want me to help with that?” He gets a smirk on his face. It took me a couple seconds to realize what he’s talking about. I hold my hands up, “Sean...do not even - -“ as he begins splashing me. I tell him “Dude, you are so...”
Sean raises an eyebrow, “Adorable? Yeah, I know! Not bad, (Y/L/N). Didn’t think you’d actually do it!” I tell him as I shiver a little, “My body just had to get used to it...Not that cold.”
He smirks “That’s because I had to pee...” I splash him as I say, “Ha ha HA! You’ve been spending too much time with Finn. But...speaking of...what are you gonna do about Finn and...You know, his plan.” He says “It’s a really stupid idea. Way too dangerous. Especially for Daniel.” I tell him “I know...Finn acts like this is no big deal, but...this feels bad.” I look down at the water, “Plus, I don’t want you guys to get in any more trouble...”
The water on my right side splashes a little. Sean has moved a little closer, “Yeah, tell that to Daniel. He’s gonna be pissed.” I look at him, “He’s your brother, he’ll listen to you. Finn says he wants to take care of us but...but he doesn’t always see other people...It’s all about him.” It was his turn to look at the water, “I know. But I feel bad for ruining his dream.” I tell him “I’m sure he’ll rage for awhile but then he’ll be cool. He likes you.” Sean asks “What do you mean?”
“You seriously can’t tell?” I ask him. He says with a smirk as he swims closer, “Actually, if you can’t tell...I really like you.” I place my arms around the back of his neck, “If you haven’t already noticed but we are both naked...” Blushing, he says while he puts his hands on my waist, “Well...I’m surprised you joined me. I thought you were going to bail because it was so cold.” Changing the subject, I ask “So what did Cassidy do to your arm?” He holds it out of the water, “Oh...she just gave me my first tattoo.” I wrap my arms a little more around his neck, “Oooo, you’re a badass. What did you get?” He says “A wolf.” Kind of circling back to the previous topic, “So...do you wanna kiss me?”
“Considering I’ve kissed you multiple times but never in a lake at night while we’re both like this...yes, I do.” Sean says. I kiss him. After a half hour, I pulled away. I ask “So, what do you say we get outta here?”
We walk out of the water and this time I don’t try and hide while getting dressed. I can feel the clothes starting to cling to my body. As we walk back to the camp, the clothes feel a little stiff with the cool air. I intertwine my fingers with Sean’s. On our way back, he would look over and lean down to kiss me.
Since him and Daniel share a tent, we make our way to my tent. We reached my tent, I say “Hold on a sec.” I kneel down, unzip the flap and move a few things out of the way. I stand back up, “Sean, hello?” We both are nervous in this moment. He asks with nervousness, “You want me to come inside?” I tell him with a small smile, “Only if you would like to.”
“Yeah, I do...” he says with a small smile. Sean kneels down and crawls in. I crawl in after him. He lays on his left side propped up on his elbow. I sit cross legged. I look at him, “You cool?” He begins tracing a circle on the floor of the tent, “Um, totally. Uh...I’m...I’m just nervous...Kinda bummed we waited ‘til now...” “Me too. We’ve had a few moments before but there was too much other stuff going on at the time.” I tell him. I lean close and give him a quick kiss.
I move to laying on my right side also propped up on my elbow. He looks down again at the floor, “Uh...Hey listen, I...I think you should know that I’m...uh...” I tell him “Sean, it’s okay. I am too but how about we both learn together.” He looks at me, smiles and then leans in to kiss me.
We get intimate and after some time, we stopped. Sean sits up and wraps his arms around the top of his knees. I sit up, place my arms around him and lay my chin on his left shoulder.
I ask him “Hey...What’s up?” He says “Nothing, I just...Never mind.” “Come on...you can talk to me! Sean, this is the first time for both of us...How about we promise not to give each other a bad review online? Promise?” I tell him. He says with a chuckle, “Promise and that’s very sweet. But you don’t have to be like that.” I say “Hey, I mean it, Sean. Just take it easy and...We’ll have time to practice...Okay? Okay, we need some fresh air, let’s get dressed...Until we fuck again.”
Both of us get dressed and step out of the tent. I tell him “Sean, it’s all good, okay?” That’s when Hannah and Cassidy come over to us. Hannah asks “Hey, what’s happening? Wait - - did you guys just have sex?!” I tell her with a small smile, “Yeah, kinda!” Sean embarrassingly, says “Uh, yep...”
Hannah asks “Did you see Finn? He was with Daniel but now I can’t find him.” I tell them “We didn’t see anybody out there...but...” Cassidy gets a realization, “We better go now.” Irritated, Sean says “Figures Daniel is with him...” Hannah says before walking off, “Just tell Finn I wanna talk. Thanks much. Later.” She walks back to the campfire.
Before walking off, Sean gives me a kiss. Cassidy and him begin walking away. As I watch them walk off toward Merrill’s place, I start getting really nervous and anxious. I begin thinking about all the things that could go wrong.
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bre-meister · 4 years ago
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So, I just watched the first 3 episodes of Fate: The Winx Saga and I know I don’t usually talk about Winx on this blog but... girl gotta put her thoughts somewhere. This show was my childhood and Netflix really said “Fuck it”.
 I’ll leave it under the cut so if you wanna stay for this rant, feel free
 I went into this knowing I would hate it and, honestly, I do and I don’t
 I think it is an absolute shit dumpster fire of an adaptation that someone poured gasoline on and then tried to lite on fire with Bloom’s inconsistent control issues and shit just got even worse 
But, this could have been a fairly decent show If it was a stand alone- It had no need to be attached to the Winx name because it really is not Winx
There are some problems I had with it that everyone had before the show even dropped - The whitewashing and lack of diversity, the atrocious outfits, the lack of wings (“We evolved” that’s fucking bullshit y’all know good and well that part of the fun of the OG show was the new transformations and the outfits and we can’t even have that)
Also there is def technology here so why the FUCK do we not have Tecna? She’s the straight laced girl of the group but at the same time I feel like she could have added some much needed levity 
And my girl would have told it like it is. Sometimes these people (not the Winx because they are NOT the Winx) do dumb shit for the sake of doing dumb shit and Tecna would never have allowed this!
Combining the Trix into one person is still iffy for me, like I get why they did it but I just don’t think it has the same effect as having the three of them
Sometimes she gives me Icy vibes and most of the time she gives me Darcy vibes and almost never she gives me Stormy vibes (even though her powers are most like Stormy) and that shit just gives me whiplash
 I also think that having the witches at cloud tower provided the original show with this great idea of “even though we use dark magic and are considered witches we still make the choice ourselves as to whether or not we use that magic for good or for evil” but then again I might be reading into it too much who knows 
It’s bad enough they had to go and make Aisha the token black character but then they also make her this mean, black woman caricature (and I know it stems from her frustration that she can’t do this one thing perfect but still, as a black young woman who has seen black women portrayed like this constantly it is damaging as hell)
On that note - why did they have to make the one black and overall minority girl the control freak? Idk it just doesn’t really sit right with me
Speaking of jealousy...we gotta talk about Stella
 I know this is supposed to be more realistic and grown up and ya, I get it, girls can be catty but dude, Stella WOULD NEVER
THIS Stella endangered Bloom on PURPOSE because she was Jealous and then she really wanted to dipp on her in the woods after Bloom was trying to help her get back HER ring she shouldn’t have given her in the first place all cause she was a bit scared? Even scared Stella in the original show wouldn’t have done that! Would she have complained? YES! But she wouldn’t be so quick to give up
Need I remind everyone that she almost drained herself completely trying to protect her friends in the Omega Dimension from the Ice Snakes and only stopped because Musa was like “Stella, your hurting yourself. Take a break everyone will be ok”
And this shit show wants me to believe that these are the saem people? I think not!
 So I’m only on episode 3 but I can already tell that whatever they’re trying to say happened with Rickie is not what actually happened and that whole storyline is just super annoying like bro, there better be a good ass reason why she is pretending to be such a terrible person and I just don’t trust this show to be that creative 
This thing between her and sky is so confusing and makes like, no sense
Moving on...
I love Sam, he is so sweet and cute and amazing 
 His introduction “uh...I’m Sam...what’s up” made me laugh my ass off and I can’t even tell you why
Truly I love him but at the same time...he’s kinda getting in between Musa and Riven
 Like I get that their relationship was not the best at all (and this Riven has even more problems which was kinda unnecessary cause he already had SO MANY!) but at the same time when we’ve only got the opportunity to have 2 of the original couples like... I’m gonna need this show to give me something 
Riven - I loved him in the original show because he always had so many issues but then season 4 rolled around and he was genuinely trying to become a better person. And to have the guts to realize later that he was not ok and that he had to leave to figure that out? Respectable. I recognize that this dude had issues (and that Musa deserved better) but I respected him by the end of his journey
THIS Riven? He can eat shit. I know this is kinda supposed to be the whole Darcy arc he had in the first season or whatever but at least then he was being mind controlled to a certain extent which explained a lot of why he was doing what he was. But this dude is just an overall douche. 
Isn’t he supposed to be Bi? Internalized homophobia is amazing guys we definitely want more of that - -  (just to be clear that was sarcasm)
And I know this contradicts my wanting him and Musa to be together but I think that these two things go hand in hand
I hate that they upped his issues by 100000x because I legit want them to be together and have a genuinely good, functional relationship
But Sam is precious and should be protected
So now Terra
Honestly I think making her say “I have a cousin named Flora�� only made the whitewashing more obvious and worse. If they seriously wanted to go this route they should have just committed and not brought Flora’s name into this at all. We the fans are not idiots Netflix! We know what you did!!
This might just be a more personal thing but I kinda feel like they made her entire personality (at least this far) only about her being plus size 
And this was FAR more prevalent in the few chapters from the book I could stomach to read
And wasn’t that their defense for whitewashing? That they wanted to have more inclusion in body types?
You can have a plus size character and not make almost 90% of their screen time about them being self conscious about their body- Like this legit seems to be almost 99% of the reason she’s socially awkward
Again, if you’re going to commit, COMMIT! Show her being ok in her own body and her own skin. Let’s fight against the same culture that makes this character feel self conscious
As far as Musa goes... still don’t really like that they changed her powers 
I guess they thought her new ones would be more useful in a more “practical” setting but um... they haven’t been? Not really?
I know she said she’s not a human lie detector but... they show keeps making her one whenever it’s convenient 
I guess they thought her new ones would be more useful in a more “practical” setting but um... they haven’t been? Not really?
 I still don’t understand why they have to sneak around but, idk maybe they’ll explain it later ( like I get that Sam is Terra’s bro but Musa and Terra don’t even know eachother like that for this drama to be such a big deal)
Bloom is alright
That’s all I have to say about her
Her mom though?
Idk why she was acting the way she was, Just why?
Not her making fun of Bloom going to antique shops when Vanessa owns a literal FLOWER SHOP in the original show!
I will say though, “This basic bitch will pull out her PhD and take you to school. Every comeback is another week without your door. Hit me.” with that confidence? BEST LINE IN THE SHOW!
She had my support for like .5 sec there
“Slam the door, loose the door” she was on some Black mother shit right there - the amount of time my mom has threatened me with this? 
It wasn’t even a threat it was a promise
Sky seems to be the most in character but then again the bar isn’t set too high
Why are the teachers so fucking shady? And are there only 3 professors in this giant ass school?? (I say that knowing there were only, like 4 in the original - 5 if we count Daphnee)
It also took me a min to realize that they kinda combined Feragonda and Griselda into one person. I don’t really like it that much
 I still don’t understand why they had to strip Aisha and Sky of their titles. I felt like that added so much to their characters - Aisha felt the need to be so perfect because she was a princess and Sky had all these increasing obligation through the show that would create conflict (sometimes it was stupid but still)
Also for a show about they Winx they sure as hell don’t spend that much time together 
They got their name in the FIRST EPISODE of the original show. It’s been 3 and the only mention of “Winx” was a quick pan of the door label for their suite. Blink and you missed it
And they seem to keep flip flopping between being best friends to being indifferent to each other, to “I don’t really know you” to sometimes hating each other (the emotion flop is mainly Stella but the others seem to have some weird ranges as well)
From a technical standpoint this show has some weird choices
 Sometimes cuts will just ...happen? Especially during actions scenes sometimes it’s hard to make sense of what’s happening 
And all the fight scenes - especially the training scenes - just seem so rehearsed it hard to watch
and why does Riven keep flip flopping between the worst specialist and a great one?
The utter lack of creativity in terms of the technology and weapons and even just the representation of the magic in this show is sad
The Original was so magical and colorful It was always obvious that this was a different dimension
I feel like I could legit go to Switzerland and find a place just like this and it wouldn’t be anything super different or weird
I also still don’t get why earth can’t know? Are we just gonna pretend that the Earth fairies and Believix and the Wizards of the Black Circle just... didn’t happen?
If this person that Beatrix is working for isn’t Lord Darkar or Valtor like...idk what to do
Again I would just like to stress that this show did not need to be an adaptation
 In fact it really isn’t I don’t know what they hell they are adapting cause this is NOT Winx and I cannot stress enough just how utterly wrong this felt while watching it
 All most of the characters have the same names but they are not the same people at all - no where close
Also can I just say, Sky’s hair seemed so different (length, part, style) almost every other scene sometimes I would legit have to sit back and be like “this is the same actor right?”
 Speaking of I’d like to finish this off by saying: absolutely no hate to the actors and actresses - I can see they are doing their best with what they have been given and most of the more controversial decisions were not made by them 
I will say I did think that linking Fairy magic to emotion was a good touch - idk if they did this in the Original show or not. I can’t remember 
So far this show...
As and adaptation:
words cannot describe how bad it is
As a stand alone property:
 I mean, it’s noting amazing or truly different but I’ve definitely seen worse 
I’ll probably make another one of these for the last 3 episodes. I could literally get 0 notes on this and still do it anyway. Sometimes you really just gotta rant
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lloydskywalkers · 6 years ago
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n stands for neutral
So the trend is to just kill everyone with angst today, huh? Huh? It’s not like I need love and happiness in my life anyways-
“I can’t believe this.”
“You really should’ve seen it coming.”
“From everyone else, maybe, but from you? I trusted you, Kai.”
“Lloyd—“
“You were supposed to be my brother!”
(Haha psYCH this isn’t even angst, somebody’s gotta bring balance to the force so here is!! totally self-indulgent bros being idiots, aka Kai tries to teach Lloyd how to drive, as inspired by treasured classic Disney Channel show The Suite Life of Zach and Cody.) 
“I can’t believe this.”
“You really should’ve seen it coming.”
“From everyone else, maybe, but from you? I trusted you, Kai.”
“Lloyd—“
“You were supposed to be my brother!”
“For the love of—“ Kai turns around in the driver’s seat, staring at Lloyd where he’s (very much against his will) sitting in the passenger’s seat with his knees pulled up to his chest. “Are you seriously quoting Star Wars at me right now?”
“You tell me, Anakin Mc-Scarface, you traitor.”
Kai rubs a hand across his face, counting to three under his breath. “You are the worst drama queen, you know that, right.”
Lloyd folds his arms across his chest, looking grumpier than the wet cat Kai had rescued from a drainage flood the other day. “Takes one to know one,” Lloyd mutters.
“Look, I’m still serious about picking up that cookie cake, promise,” Kai says, wincing a bit at the reminder that he has, technically, stabbed Lloyd in the back, just a tiny bit. “Driving practice is just a stop on the way.”
Lloyd shoots him one of those I’m-Gonna-Flaunt-My-Overlord-Heritage looks, the one that could strip paint from a wall.
“I don’t need a stupid driver’s license.”
“Yes, you do!” Kai exclaims, throwing his hand up in the air. “What are you gonna do if you need to get somewhere? What are you gonna do if you get pulled over?”
Lloyd’s lip juts out stubbornly. “I’m gonna light the car on fire and fly away on a dregon.”
Kai wonders briefly if this is how Nya feels. “You’re the worst gremlin of a brother I’ve ever had.”
“And you’re a stir-fried ice cream head.”
“I should’ve let you burn in the fire temple,” Kai mutters, as he pulls the car into a mostly-empty parking lot.
“But you didn’t,” Lloyd says, a bit more cheerfully.
“A tragic mistake, really,” Kai sighs.
“Yeah,” Lloyd says, propping his elbows up on the armrest of Kai’s seat and grinning at him. “Just think — then you could’ve been the green ninja right now. Blew your chance.”
“It might not be too late,” Kai says, side-eyeing him. “I could still off you and steal the green gi, you know.”
Lloyd snorts. “Yeah, then you could give the motivational team speeches—“
“You haven’t set a super high bar—“
“—and you get to fend off whatever rabid ex-student of Sensei Wu comes by next week—“
“On second thought—“
“—and you’d get Garmadon for a dad—“
“No I wouldn’t!”
“Well you’d have to see him all the time, at least—“
“Well that’s the nail in the coffin, there.”
Lloyd giggles, falling back in his seat. “As if you could defeat me anyways,” he says, smugly.
“Oh yeah?” Kai says, pulling the car into one of the vacant parking spots (not that it matters, the entire lot is empty save for one car in the corner, but you know, lessons). “How about this: I’ll trade you five cookie cakes for the green gi—“
“Done.”
Kai blinks, his hand pausing on the gear shift as he shifts it into park. “Seriously? That’s it?”
“I’d probably trade it for one,” Lloyd says, messing absently with the string on his hoodie. “Cookies are a way better trade off.”
Kai has words for that, but he desists. The Preeminent was only a few months ago, after all, and not that long ago Lloyd had a greasy emo jerk possess him because he was salty that he wasn’t the chosen one.
Kai suppresses a snort. After meeting the guy, he honestly wonders why anyone was even surprised—
Anyways. Rant aside, Kai is on a mission here, and he’d promised Nya and the guys he’d have Lloyd driving like a pro when he came back. In hindsight, this was probably too big a promise on Kai’s part.
“Do I have to?” Lloyd complains, as Kai unbuckles his seatbelt and gestures for them to switch places. “We drive mechs, Kai, why do I even need to know how to drive a car?”
“Because,” Kai says, insistently. “This is a normal person check box. If you ever want to have a life outside of obsessive ninja training and world-saving, you gotta at least know how to parallel park.”
“You don’t even know how to parallel park,” Lloyd accuses.
Kai bristles. “Just because I hit another car once—“
“Twice.”
“—twice, doesn’t mean I haven’t parallel parked right before!”
“Sure,” Lloyd says, in a voice that sounds way too much like Kai’s own snarky skepticism, oh geez, has he created a monster when he wasn’t looking—
No, Kai decides, calming himself. He’s been nothing but a stellar role model, of course.
“Anyways, it’s an important part of growing up,” Kai says sagely, like the absolutely amazing older brother he is. “You’ve only got a certain number of important life events, and you already steamrolled past becoming a teen. We gotta treasure the rest. Getting your license, being old enough to vote, having alcohol for the first time—“
“Actually, I already had alcohol for the first time,” Lloyd corrects him.
“…what.”
“Yeah,” Lloyd says, wrinkling his nose. “When Morro possessed me he took this shot or something, it was super gross — wait, Kai, where are you going? Kai, get back in the car!”
“—find a way to the Departed Realm myself, and then I’ll show him where he can stick his shot glass—“
“Kai, please—“
“—shove his ugly emo head in a blender—“
“Kai, people are watching us!”
******
After a good ten minutes of Lloyd coaching Kai through calming exercises, and a bad five minutes of Lloyd dragging Kai by the hair back into the car before he tries his hand at necromancy, Kai finally convinces Lloyd to get into the driver’s seat.
This is, unfortunately, the easy part.
“Okay,” Kai says, pointing to the gear shift. “These here are super important, ‘cause if you put it in the wrong one, you’ll shoot backwards on accident.”
Lloyd snorts. “Speaking from experience?”
Kai shoots him a look. “Just listen, okay?”
Lloyd shrugs, but he doesn’t say anything else. Kai shakes his head. “Anyways, like I was saying — this is an automatic car, so it’s easier than stick shift, but you still gotta pay attention to the gear shift. It’s in park right now, which is the P, see?” Kai taps the transmission. “That means it won’t move, even if you hit the gas. If you want to move, you shift it into drive, which is D, right here. The R is for reverse, which is if you wanna go backwards. N is for neutral, which is pretty pointless I guess. And the L is for low, which means, uh….low,” Kai finishes awkwardly. Huh, maybe Nya should have taken this one…
He shakes that off and directs his attention back to Lloyd. “You got all that?”
Lloyd, who has been tuning him out for the last five minutes in favor of watching the little bee that’s outside their window buzz around the antenna, quickly yanks his attention back to Kai, trying to seem like he’s been listening like a diligent little brother the whole time.
“Yes. Totally got it. The PRDNL. Good to go.”
Kai narrows his eyes at him. “Then what’s the P stand for?”
Lloyd rolls his eyes. “Park, duh.”
“And the N?” Kai says, shrewdly.
“Uh…” Lloyd tries not to sweat. “Never hit…another car?”
Kai thunks his head against the glove compartment. “You’re not even gonna make into the car for the test,” he groans.
“It’s not my fault it’s so boring!” Lloyd defends. “All this stuff about the park and reverse and braking is stupid—“
“Really, the brakes are stupid?”
“You know what I mean!” Lloyd huffs, slouching down in the seat. “I don’t even want to be here.”
“Look,” Kai says, trying his very best not to make a crack about the five year-old that Lloyd is. “If you stop whining about it, I’ll make cookies with you when we get home.”
Lloyd eyes him, looking slightly more receptive. “Chocolate chip?”
“I was actually thinking oatmeal raisin this time, change it up a bit—“
Lloyd gags. “Oatmeal raisin?” he repeats, scandalized. “You’d rather have oatmeal raisin cookies than chocolate chip? Who are you, satan?”
“Yes,” Kai says, flatly. “I’m the devil incarnate.”
“The driving devil—“
“You know what, just go ahead and start driving,” Kai says, grinding his palms in his eyes. “You know which is brakes and which is the gas, right?”
“Obviously,” Lloyd rolls his eyes. “Get ready for the ultimate driving master, heh.”
“I can’t believe I helped raise you.”
“Psh, you were lucky to,” Lloyd says. Kai shakes his head, grinning against his better will. Lloyd falls quiet, and Kai watches him expectantly.
Then watches him expectantly for another minute.
“You can drive now.”
“…”
“…Lloyd.”
“…”
“Lloyd, you can drive.”
Lloyd remains frozen at the steering wheel, gripping it hard enough to creak. “Um.”
Kai stares at him. “Lloyd?”
“I’m going,” Lloyd says, tightly. “Just. Gimme a sec.”
Kai blinks, staring at him another minute. Lloyd makes no move, and the car doesn’t either, quietly puttering away in park.
Kai gestures to the gear shift. “Just start with changing the gear—“
“I know,” Lloyd grits out. “Stop putting so much pressure on me.”
“Pressure, I’m not even—“ Kai cuts off, trying not to face-palm. Okay, new tactic. “Just…imagine the road is Morro’s face,” Kai suggests.
Lloyd blinks. “What?”
“Imagine the road is Morro,” Kai repeats. “And you’re, uh, running him over if you drive.”
Lloyd turns this over in his head, the epiphany dawning on his face. “You’re right,” he says, his voice hushed. “If I knew how to drive, I could run him over.”
“Well yeah, I mean, if he wasn’t already dead, and that’s not quite the point I was going for there, but—“
“I changed my mind,” Lloyd says, a look of hellish glee in his eyes. “I like driving.”
Uh-oh.
“Don’t get carried away,” Kai says, sweating. “Here, just take it slow—“
Lloyd throws the car into drive, and— oof, there’s the gas, he was paying attention after all, apparently.
“Okay, that was a little rough, but so far, so — um, Lloyd?” Kai says, weakly. “Lloyd, you might wanna — you might wanna slow down a bit—“
“That would defeat the purpose,” Lloyd says, resolutely turning the steering wheel as they pick up speed.
Kai looks at him in alarm. “The purpose?”
A grin spreads across Lloyd’s face that looks way too much like it belongs on Garmadon’s face. “Of running Morro over.”
“Morro is hypothetical, Lloyd—!”
“I know, but—“ Lloyd pauses, a slight look of panic crossing his face. Kai follows his line of vision, and realizes that they’re now headed in the direction of the lone car in the lot with them.
“Uh, which one was the brakes again?”
Kai stares at him in disbelief. “The left.”
“The left what?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“The left what, Kai?!”
“The left pedal, Lloyd, hit it, hit it — no, with your foot, you idiot—“
As it turns out, they’re both idiots, as no one thinks to turn the wheel in time.
******
“Can I say a bad word.”
“No.”
“Rats.”
“I can’t believe this,” Kai moans. “There is literally one. One single car in this parking lot, and you still managed to hit it.”
“I’m going to prison,” Lloyd says sadly, surveying the two wrecked cars, Sensei’s old rented car neatly smashed into the considerably more expensive sports car, crushing the side in.
At least neither of them got hurt, Kai thinks, dully. Property damage was only kept to a few couple thousand dollars this time, that’s…probably a record for him and Lloyd, actually.
It’s still not good, but Kai is nothing if not a loyal brother, and if Lloyd goes down to his own inability to touch a car without wrecking it, he’ll go down with him. But preferably neither of them are going down, Kai likes living life outside prison.
“No, you aren’t,” Kai says, shaking his head and rising in determination. “You’re too young to go to prison.”
“Yeah, I haven’t even voted yet.”
“Cut the sass or I’ll make prison look like a playground next time I’m on training with you,” Kai says, tightly. “Look, we’re just gonna—“
There’s a slam from the door of the building near them, and Kai hears voices sound from around the corner. Lloyd takes a careful step behind him, going pale.
“Ah,” Kai says. “Okay!” he claps his hands together. “Lloyd, this next lesson is called hit and run, which is terrible and bad and you should never do, ever, however—“ Heavy footsteps round the corner. “Desperate times!” Kai yelps, grabbing Lloyd by the arm and hauling them both into a sprint. “Run for it!”
******
“Weren’t Kai and Lloyd supposed to be back by now?”
Nya looks up from her book, meeting Zane’s concerned expression. “They’re probably just taking their time,” she says. “Lloyd didn’t look super enthusiastic about driving.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Zane says, not looking entirely reassured. Nya can’t blame him — they’re trusting their only normal car into the hands of Kai and Lloyd, the odds aren’t exactly great.
Zane shifts, making to stand. “Perhaps I should check on—“
The heavy sound of a dragon landing on the deck echoes from the ceiling, and Nya gives a tiny sigh of relief as twin footsteps echo across the deck, heading down for the cabin. Both her and Zane glance at the door as it swings open — and blink. Kai and Lloyd look fairly cheerful, which probably has something to do with the three large boxes from the Great Ninjago Cookie Factory Lloyd’s balancing in his arms, and the half-eaten slice he’s got stuffed in his mouth.
“How’d driving go?” Nya asks, eyeing the boxes shrewdly. She’s already debating how difficult it’s going to be to wrestle those from Lloyd before he makes himself sick, chances slim to none.
“It went okay,” Kai shrugs, hanging up his jacket. “Lloyd knows the gear shifts now.”
“Yeah,” Lloyd says, through a mouthful of cookie. “The PRDNL.”
“Oh,” Zane says, staring at them. “That’s good. Did you bring the keys back?”
“Yup,” Kai says, tossing Zane the key ring. Nya relaxes, exchanging relieved glances with Zane. Ah well, she sighs to herself. Its not that she’s unhappy to be wrong about her brothers’ capability, but she’d really thought they might end up—
“By the way, the car’s in downtown Ninjago,” Kai says quickly, placing his hands on Lloyd’s back and shoving. “It mightbealittlewrecked too but we gotta go, training awaits, go Lloyd go—“
Before Nya can blink, Kai’s shoved Lloyd down the hall, the two sprinting away as Lloyd cackles. Zane gives a tiny, quiet sigh of utter despair.
Horrible as she feels, because poor Zane and his dejected expression, he doesn’t deserve this…but Nya can’t help the tiny smile of satisfaction that spreads across her face. Ha. Cole’s losing twenty bucks to her after all.
276 notes · View notes
fanforthefics · 5 years ago
Note
The bachelor au with sidgeno, bennguin or kidline. Idc about the pairing ur I'm starving for headcanons 👏
1) "Next, Tyler Seguin,” the producer says, flipping to the next slide as the team flips over to the next page of their packet, “He’ll probably be good for some drama.” 
Jamie studies the picture, the stats--6′1, as good looking as all the rest of them, a bartender in Boston. Loves dogs, hockey, and having a good time. He’s grinning in the picture, smirking a little. He looks like every other ex-athlete fuckboy Jamie’s seen come and go over his seasons as a producer on the Bachelor and Bachelorette. 
“Are we thinking villain edit?” another producer asks. Jamie doesn’t have seniority to say it, but he’s already thinking the no as the producer says, 
“No, unless things change. Just some excitement--add some chaos in.” 
Jamie agrees. He’s gotten to be a decent judge of character, or at least figuring out who’s going to be the kind of person who’s insufferable to the producers and always ordering them around and thinking that they’re there to serve the contestants, and who isn’t. Tyler Seguin looks like many things, but there’s no malice in those laughing brown eyes. 
“And next,” the producer goes on, and Jamie flips the page, quickly. So Seguin’s got pretty eyes. He’s seen plenty of pretty eyes come and go. 
///
2) Tyler goes on the Bachelorette partly on a whim, partly because it seems like fun, partly because his Insta deserves more followers, and partly as a way out of--well, as a change. 
In any case, no one is surprised. “This seems inevitable, yeah,” Brownie told him, with a noise that’s a laugh and a sigh put together.” 
So Tyler goes on the show, and it’s cool. Like, sort of stressful, because of the whole competition thing, but the Bachelorette, Liv, is hot and fun and the rest of the guys seem chill, except for the ones who aren’t but Tyler can ignore them, and getting to hang around a pool all day and drink and hang out and work out is maybe Tyler’s idea of heaven. Or, no--if this was heaven he would have gotten to make out a little with the hot guys around him, but hey, it’s close. 
///
3) Tyler latches on to Jamie quickly, though. Jamie’s one of the first of the crew he’s introduced to, to herd him around where they need to go, and Tyler is incapable of not trying to make friends with people, so he starts chatting with him or whatever, and Jamie mumbles something back, and Tyler thinks that that’s that--that he doesn’t like Tyler and it’s a pity because Tyler’s into the whole big dude big eyes thing Jamie’s got going on, but Tyler’s not going to force his presence on anyone. 
Then it’s a few days later, and Tyler’s feeling a little tired, already. He loves it, he does, but--it’s a lot, and he’s hungover and the other dudes are getting into a shouting match about something and he’s standing nearby watching and it’s all getting to be a lot, and then he feels someone appearing next to him, which is a feat for how big Jamie is. 
“You can take a sec,” Jamie says, and he’s not mumbling now. 
“What?” Tyler asks, turning and smiling instinctively. Jamie’s watching him, with those big eyes that look...well, kind. 
Jamie glances at his feet, then back up. “Cameras aren’t on you all the time. You can take a break, you know. Go get some sleep or something.” 
Tyler raises his eyebrows, but he’s grinning. “Are you supposed to be saying that? Shouldn’t you be encouraging me to go do shit?” 
Jamie shrugs, doesn’t quite meet Tyler’s eyes. “I’ll make sure the cameras don’t bother you.” 
It could maybe be the producers trying to manipulate Tyler, or some shit like that, but--Tyler doesn’t think so. There’s something about Jamie that makes it impossible to think so. Jamie radiates Good Guy energy, in a way that Tyler doesn’t think he’s ever seen before. 
“Yeah,” Tyler agrees, and punches Jamie’s arm companionably before he goes. “Thanks, bro.” 
Jamie shrugs again, like it’s nothing. 
///
4) So after that Tyler officially adopts Jamie. Jamie...isn’t quite sure what to do with it, because Tyler should be spending his time with the other contestants, and maybe Jamie is making it up anyway, that Jamie seems to be his favorite producer. Like, sure, Tyler’s always hanging out near him, and chatting with him when he has a chance, and he’s started teasing Jamie in a way that manages to seem fun and not dickish, but he does that to a lot of people. Jamie’s sure it doesn’t mean anything. Tyler makes friends with everyone. Tyler’s one of the favorites to get into the top four or five, though he’s not favored to win. But the bachelorette seems to be charmed and amused by him, so he keeps getting that rose. 
And after he gets it, sometimes he looks up, grins over at where Jamie’s watching, and if Jamie blushes sometimes, well. The lights cover that. 
///
5)
Tyler just likes Jamie. A lot. The dude’s quiet, and mumbles a lot, but Tyler’s been watching him and he sees how he manages the other producers and crew, how even the contestants fall in line when he starts laying down the law. He sees how once there were kids around for a date and Jamie knelt down to talk to a little girl, folding up that big muscled body to admire the picture she drew. He sees how Jamie never turns Tyler away, when he needs a break from all the filming shit, and Tyler tucks himself into a corner with Jamie to chat about nothing at all, about his dogs and Boston and Toronto and hockey and just--anything. 
Also once Jamie gets water on his shirt and has to strip it off to change and Tyler sees all that, too. 
It’s not like Tyler’s obsessed, or anything. He likes a lot of the contestants, even Chad, who’s getting the villain edit but isn’t like, that bad a dude. He likes a bunch of the producers too, and some of the camera people. 
But somehow he always finds himself circling back to Jamie, especially after a date where he’s been charming and drinking and is so wired he feels like he’ll shake out of his skin. Jamie has a way then, of putting a hand on his arm, and Tyler can just--settle. He has a way of listening to Tyler talk about his life back home in a way that doesn’t quite feel judgmental, but does make Tyler feel like--like he’s looking at it from the outside. 
Tyler learns things about Jamie, too. He learns he’s the youngest of three and he’s from Victoria and that he’s been working this job for a couple years now. He learns that he wants to be a director, someday, which he admits with a mumbling blush but Tyler kicks his foot until he looks up and tells him that it makes sense. Jamie’s good at being in charge. 
He does not learn if Jamie is single or not. He tells himself that’s okay. Jamie’s a friend, a good friend, and Tyler’s for sure keeping him after the show, but. Who cares if he’s single or not? Not Tyler, that’s who. 
///
6) A scene: Tyler, in a confessional setting. He’s wearing a bathing suit and an unbuttoned shirt over it, with a backwards baseball cap on. 
“Yeah, no, I mean, I love Boston,” Tyler says into the camera. “It’s been a lot of fun, you know?” He looks over the camera, to the side. [Not pictured: Jamie, standing there, watching him. Listening]. 
A pause. Someone asks a question. Then, “Is it--do I want to live there forever? I don’t know. I thought so.” A look, to the same side. Steady. “I’ve been thinking recently, though, maybe I need to grow up a little? Start taking things a little more seriously. And I don’t know if I can do that in Boston.” 
Another question. “What? Would I go to Liv in LA?” He chuckles, looks a little surprised. “Yeah, sure, LA sun, what’s not to love?” 
///
7) Another moment: It’s late out, and Jamie’s waiting out the last of the contestants to go to sleep so he can go home and grab some sleep before being back on set early to prep for the date. Most of them go easily enough, but Tyler lags behind. Jamie's not surprised. He wishes he were a little less pleased. 
“So you have a big night planned?” Tyler asks, leaning against the bar. He’s in his yellow bathing suit, which is maybe the douchiest set; it’s still painfully attractive. “Gonna go out on the town, once you’re rid of all of us?” 
Jamie snorts. “I’m going to get some sleep.” 
Tyler tsks his tongue. “Really? No big date night? Doesn’t all this want to make you fall in love?” he drawls the last words, like he’s mocking them. 
“After running interference on you lot all day, who has the time?” It’s not quite true. Jamie could, probably, if he wanted to. Jordie definitely thinks so, and says so, loudly. But Jamie--he doesn’t want to. It’s hard to feel like he could, after watching all the ridiculously attractive men out there, all day. “Anyway, I’m boring, right? That’s the general opinion.” 
“Boring’s not bad.” Tyler’s watching him again. “Doesn’t mean you have to stay that way, though.” 
Jamie shrugs. “Makes it easier to, though.” 
Tyler hums, then, all at once, he reaches behind himself to grab a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses. “Tyler!” Jamie yelps. “What are you doing?” 
“Let’s do shots,” Tyler says, easy. Like that’s not--
“We can’t drink now, it’s after hours,” Jamie hisses. And then, also, “And I can’t drink anyway, that’s for contestants. And I shouldn’t be drinking with you, I’m not supposed to even fraternize with--” 
“Come on, Jameson.” Tyler grins, and it’s all temptation there, smooth as silk. Wild, Jamie remembers them calling him, way back at the beginning before Jamie started to see what that wildness covered up. “Cameras are off, you’re off the clock. Take a chance.” He holds up a shot glass, smirking a little. 
Jamie hesitates, but he’d like to see the person who’s strong enough to stand up to Tyler’s smile. 
“One,” He says, and takes the glass. Tyler cheers, then he pours the shots, grabs salt and some limes from behind the bar too. 
“You do know how to do this, right?” Tyler asks, setting it out. Jamie rolls his eyes. 
“Yes, I know how to do a tequila shot,” Jamie retorts. Tyler grins again, then licks at his hand to put salt on it. His eyes are very dark, watching Jamie. 
Jamie swallows, does the same. He can’t look away from Tyler, somehow. It feels like no one else exists, not the show, not the bachelorette, not all the rest of it. Just the two of them. 
It’s a long, long moment. Tyler’s tongue flicks out to wet his lips, Jamie--tries not to look. Tyler’s a fun guy, of course he’s going to be fun. It’s not--anything. 
“Cheers,” Jamie says at last, to break--this. 
“Cheers,” Tyler replies, and tosses back the shot. Jamie does too. It burns, but maybe in a good way. 
///
8) Tyler falls in love on a Tuesday. 
He’d been feeling a little--not homesick, really, but dog sick; he misses his boys more than anything else. And he must have mentioned it to Jamie, or maybe he just talked about his boys more, or something, because he comes downstairs one day and there’s just a dog there, a few of the other guys who are up huddling around him and petting him. 
Tyler follows the leash up to Jamie’s hands, blinks. “Are they yours?” he asks, a little dumbstruck. 
Jamie shrugs, glances away, and blushes a little, like he’s been doing more of since that night Tyler had talked him into taking a shot. “He’s my brother’s, technically, but he said I could borrow him. I thought it might do you some good--all of you,” he adds, too quickly, but Tyler knows that’s not what he meant. Jamie brought in the dog, for Tyler, because Tyler had been feeling shitty; like he’d always done the little things to make Tyler feel better, like he’d known what Tyler needed. 
“Um, thanks,” Tyler mutters, because he doesn’t know what else to say, and crouches down to greet the dog--Juice, Jamie tells him--properly. It’s easier than looking at Jamie. Jamie is--it’s too much. Tyler hadn’t come on the show to find love. 
///
9) Tyler makes it to hometowns, brings the show to meet his family and his dogs, and actually insists that Jamie come along to. Jamie doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes when another producer mentions it. It’s--fine. 
He continues to be fine as Tyler is lovely and sweet with his mom and sisters, as Tyler is adorable with his dogs, as he introduces Liv to each of them in turn. The cameras go on Liv and Tyler’s mom for a little, so then Tyler drags Jamie over, introduces him to each of the dogs too. All of them--humans and dogs alike--clearly love him. 
Jamie gets the feeling. 
///
10) Tyler’s eliminated after home towns. 
Liv pulls him aside, after. “Sorry,” she says, and Tyler shrugs. He likes her, but he can’t really pretend that he’s cut up about this. He’s pretty bummed about how going home means he can’t hang out with Jamie anymore, but he’ll get his phone back, so they can talk. 
“No hard feelings,” he tells her. “I hope you’ll be happy.” 
She grins, a little knowing. “You too, Tyler,” she says, all sincerity, and glances over his shoulder, where the producers are standing. “I’m pretty sure fraternization rules are over once you’re eliminated, you know.” 
Tyler smirks. Of course everyone knew. He’s not capable of being subtle.  “You are honestly an amazing woman,” he informs her, and kisses her goodbye. 
///
11) Jamie’s not surprised that Tyler stops by to say good-bye before he leaves. He’s probably doing it for everyone. He’s a little concerned--Tyler hadn’t seemed too devastated by being eliminated, but you never know. Tyler’s decent at hiding what he’s feeling for the cameras. 
He’s ready to express that, when Tyler knocks on his hotel room door. Except Tyler doesn’t look devastated. He looks--nervous. 
“Everything okay?” Jamie asks, as he lets Tyler into his room. Tyler turns around a little, looking at it--he’s never been here, Jamie guesses. Contestants wouldn’t. But Tyler doesn’t look like a contestant anymore, in just sweatpants and a tank top, his hair a little messy. It’s too messy for TV, but it’s a good look. Somehow, it makes him look older. 
“Yeah. Or, I think so.” 
“I’m sorry, about the elimination--” 
“Don’t be.” Tyler turns to face him. “Look, tell me if I’m off base here, but--” 
Jamie’s about to ask him about what, but then Tyler’s kissing him. 
It takes Jamie a second to get on board, then of course he kisses back. How could he not? Tyler is wild in his arms, pushing, devouring, and Jamie feels wild too, his hands in Tyler’s hair, on his hips. 
They break apart infinitely later. Tyler’s definitely messy now. “Fuck, yeah,” Tyler says, and looks like he’s about to fist pump. “I knew you’d be awesome at that.” 
Jamie’s too dazed to give him shit for that. “What--really?” he asks, and Tyler snorts. 
“You had to have guessed. I’m not subtle, man.” 
“I--I didn’t think you could--there’s all the contestants, and Liv, and--” 
“And you,” Tyler cuts off, and slides his arms around Jamie’s shoulders. “You’re just as hot as the rest of them, you know.” 
“I’m really not.” Jamie’s okay with that. 
“You are.” Tyler smirks then. “Want me to prove it?” 
Jamie really, really does. 
59 notes · View notes
lastbluetardis · 5 years ago
Text
Family of Six (3/14)
After James and Rose bring their newborn twins home, they work to find a balance between all four of their children, and each other. Ten x Rose AU, Soulmates AU.
This chapter: all ages, 4500 words
Ages of the Tyler-McCrimmons at the start of the chapter: James: 39, Rose: 33, Ainsley: 9, Sianin: 5, Twins: 9 days
If you like reading my stories, consider leaving me a tip? Or leave a reply on this post to tell me what you thought? And as always, reblogs are very much appreciated so more people can see this.
Chapters will be posted every other week — next update: August 6th
AO3 | TSP | FF | Perfectly Matched Series
Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14
The second week home with the babies did not go nearly as smoothly as the first—this was primarily due to the fact that all four children got sick. Exactly one week after James and Rose brought the twins home, they received a call from Sianin’s school in the early afternoon, asking them to come pick her up. When James arrived at the school’s infirmary, he found his daughter lying lethargically on a cot, her face pale except for the pink spots on her cheeks.
“Hiya, darling,” he whispered, crouching beside her. He smoothed her hair away from her face, letting the backs of his fingers linger at her forehead. She was burning up. “I hear you’re not feeling well.”
“I’m really sleepy,” Sianin mumbled, barely keeping her eyes open.
“I know. I’m gonna take you home and get you in to bed,” he said.
He planted a kiss to a rosy cheek, then stood. After signing a form, he walked back to his child and lifted her into his arms. She tucked her face into his chest and was nearly asleep by the time James deposited her into her car seat. She was completely out when they arrived home.
Rose greeted him when he walked through the front door with their daughter.
“How is she?” she asked, pressing her fingertips all across Sianin’s face.
“Very fatigued,” he answered. “I’m gonna go put her down.”
“You don’t think it’s the flu, do you?” Rose asked, her forehead crinkling with concern. “She had the shot for it. And it’s the end of flu season.”
“I don’t know, Rose,” he sighed.
“Daddy?” Sianin blinked blearily up at them.
“We’re home,” he announced. “I was just about to get you into bed.”
“Will you lay with me?” she asked, nuzzling her hot face into his neck.
“Sure thing,” he answered.
“How do you feel, sweetheart?” Rose asked.
“My head hurts,” Sianin replied, turning her head to peek at her mother. “And my cheeks hurt.”
Rose gently pressed down on Sianin’s sinuses. “Here?”
Sianin nodded, then sniffed. “My nose is getting stuffy.”
“I’ll give you some medicine to help unstuff it,” James promised.
He then moved down the hall and crawled into his and Rose’s bed with Sianin, and stayed there until it was time to pick Ainsley up from school.
By that night, Sianin had a full-blown fever and completely clogged nostrils. Her fever stabilized then broke by the next morning, but the rest of her symptoms remained the same. James and Rose concluded it was nothing more than a bad cold and sinus infection; nevertheless, they continued to monitor her closely.
Unfortunately, she’d managed to infect her older sister. Ainsley awoke with a sore throat, clogged nose, and the beginnings of a fever, prompting them to keep her home as well. The day didn’t get any better when the twins began showing signs of illness, too. They were both being fussy, but when their normally-quiet breathing morphed to raspy pants, James and Rose knew that their youngest children had succumbed to whenever infection Sianin and Ainsley had.
If they thought it was difficult watching their elder children struggle with a severe cold, it was nothing compared to the agony of watching their newborns struggle with one. James lived in a perpetual state of anxiety, worrying whether or not his babies could breathe okay or if their temperature was too high. He and Rose were glued to the internet, Googling their babies’ symptoms; they also placed several calls to their pediatrician to ensure everything was okay and were ready to take them to the hospital at a moment’s notice.
James barely slept, and he knew Rose wasn’t faring any better. They awoke at the slightest cough, sneeze, or hitch in their babies’ breath. They’d adjusted the bassinets to be at a slight incline to hopefully help their sinuses drain.
But their draining sinuses upset their fragile little bellies, and more than once, James and Rose found themselves cleaning up a new puddle of baby vomit.
“Da-aaad,” Ainsley called from the living room one morning. “Hannah and Maddie puked all over themselves.”
James took the pan of frying eggs off the burner, then walked into the living room. Both babies were, indeed, lying in a puddle of their own sick. They were on their stomachs, so there was no fear of them choking, but he picked them up and wiped their mouths, just to be certain.
“I’m gonna go finish the eggs real quick, then I’ll come and clean them up,” James said, setting the babies down on a clean patch of blanket.
“Want me to change them?” Ainsley asked.
“No, no, I’ll do it,” James said. “Besides, your breakfast is nearly done.”
“Mum lets me help,” she grumbled.
James bit back a sigh. “All right. Get them naked. But if at any moment, you think something’s wrong or if you’re having trouble getting their clothes off, give me a shout. Promise me, Ainsley.”
“Yeah, yeah, I promise,” she said. 
James went into the kitchen to finish breakfast, half-focusing on the eggs, half-listening for a shout from Ainsley, and half-asleep from the all-nighter he and Rose had pulled. He made quick work of scrambling the eggs and putting bread in the toaster, then he went to the fridge and poured a glass of orange juice for Ainsley and Sianin.
As though he’d summoned them, Ainsley and Sianin trotted into the kitchen and sat down at the table.
“Did Mum give you your meds this morning?” he asked.
They shook their heads, and he went to the cabinet. He paused, then asked, “Er… did I?”
That earned him a giggle from both daughters, and again, they shook their heads. He nodded and pulled the liquid cold medicine down from the top shelf. He poured out their dosages and stood guard as they swallowed it down with a grimace.
“Are Maddie and Hannah nice and naked?” he asked.
“Yep,” Ainsley answered.
“I got them new outfits to wear,” Sianin interjected.
“Thank you for your big help,” he praised.
He then plated their eggs and toast before going to the living room. Both babies were in only their nappies, a bit of residual vomit streaked across their necks and chins. He talked to them quietly as he cleaned them up and got them tucked away in their new onesies. He then balled up the vomited-on blanket and took it to the laundry room, putting it and a few towels into the washer.
When he returned to the living room, both babies were staring alertly up at the ceiling. He bent down to pick up one of his daughters. “Right. Now my sweet little…” James’s body went numb as he looked down at the baby in his arms. Hannah? Or Maddie? Shit. “Hey, Ains… Can you come here for a sec?”
He heard the sound of a chair scraping across the floor, then Ainsley appeared in the living room.
“Yeah?”
“Where were Hannah and Maddie when you stripped them?”
“Um. I think Hannah was to the left and Maddie to the right,” Ainsley said, cocking her head to the side.
“You think, or you know?” he snapped, his voice coming out harsher than he intended it in his building panic. He didn’t remember where the baby in his arms had been lying, so even if Ainsley was remembering correctly, that wasn’t helpful for him.
Ainsley’s face fell at his tone.
“I don’t remember,” she said quietly, dropping her gaze to her feet.
James caught himself before he could say something else. This wasn’t Ainsley’s fault.
He set the baby down on the floor next to her twin, then crouched in front of Ainsley.
“It’s okay,” he said. He cradled her cheeks in his hands and made her look at him. “I’m very sorry for getting short with you. I’m really tired is all, but that’s not an excuse. I didn’t mean to raise my voice. I’m sorry.”
Ainsley nodded, then asked, “How are we going to figure out who’s who?”
James shrugged. “I’ll figure something out. I am rather clever after all. Go back to your breakfast.”
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then ushered her to the kitchen. He turned to his two newborns and sank to his bum as he looked between the babies. His eyes traced their chubby pink cheeks and wispy brown hair and murky blue eyes, straining to find a difference or hoping for a spark of recognition.
“All right, my darlings,” he said, absently bouncing their little feet with his fingertips. “You’re only eleven days old. How detrimental could it possibly be if I accidentally mislabel you? Of course, the best case scenario is that you’re not identical—which, at the moment, I would be shocked if you’re not—and we can go to the doctor and have them run another DNA test to let us know who is who. They should have your DNA on file somewhere, right?
“Other best case scenario: I pick correctly, and you continue your wonderful little lives as Hannah Brianne and Madeline Emily Tyler-McCrimmon.
“But honestly, the worst case scenario is that you still continue your wonderful little lives as Hannah Brianne and Madeline Emily Tyler-McCrimmon without ever knowing you were anything but who you are. Seriously. You’ll never know that you were, for eleven days, called by the opposite name. What could be the harm? I’ll make up something to tell Ainsley, and we’ll keep it a secret from Mummy. No harm, no foul, eh?”
“What are we keeping a secret from Mummy?”
James squeaked and snapped his head towards the sound of his wife’s voice. Rose was leaning against the wall at the entrance of the living room.
“Er… I don’t suppose you could pretend like you didn’t hear that sentence?” James asked sheepishly.
“Nope,” she replied, popping the ‘p’. “Come on. Spill. What secret are you and our twins colluding about to keep from me?”
James sighed and returned his attention to the twins. One of them was sucking on her fingers, while the other had snot running down her cheek. He picked up the snotty one and swiped her face with a tissue, much to her annoyance. She let out a loud, squawking wail. After a moment of cuddles and kisses, she calmed down, and James set her on the blanket.
“What’s the matter, love?” Rose asked, sitting on the floor next to him.
“Oh, not much. Just that I’m an awful father,” he lamented.
Rose frowned. “I don’t believe that for a minute.”
“Oh, you will when you’ve heard what I’ve done,” he said. He steeled himself for her reaction before he admitted, “I don’t know which twin is which.”
There was a beat of silence before Rose broke into a round of giggles.
“I’m serious, Rose!” he said, upset that she was amused by his anxiety. “I don’t know who is who!”
The hysteria in his voice sobered her. She reached out and hugged his arm, then she touched the baby nearest to her. “Maddie.” She pointed to the one closer to him. “Hannah.”
“How the hell did you know that?” he demanded, feeling both relieved and miffed at the same time.
Rose shrugged. “I just… do. And you do too.”
“I clearly bloody well don’t,” he snapped.
“James, you’re sleep deprived and got stuck in your own head,” she said soothingly, massaging her fingers through his hair for emphasis. “I have no doubt that if you would’ve calmed down a little bit, you eventually would’ve gotten them right.” She pecked a kiss to his cheek then whispered, “And you know what… they’re eleven days old. I don’t think it would have mattered if we accidentally fucked it up and switched them.”
James breathed out a chuckle through his nose, then rested his head on top of hers. “That was the secret we were going to keep from you. I was going to pick randomly which baby had which name and I’d resolved to never ever mention that maybe I’d gotten it wrong.”
Rose’s resulting laughter was interrupted by the phone ringing in the kitchen.
“Mum, Dad, phone!” Ainsley called unnecessarily.
“Yep, we hear it, love,” Rose said, pushing herself to her feet. She turned back to James and helped him up too. “You all right?”
James nodded and looked down at the babies. Now that Rose had pointed it out, of course—of course—the baby on the left was Hannah and the one on the right was Maddie. It seemed so obvious now. And yet…
“I feel like a rubbish dad for getting my own children confused with each other,” he said, watching more snot roll down Hannah’s upper lip and cheek.
“You’re not,” Rose assured him. “I promise.”
She lifted onto her toes and brushed a kiss to his stubbled jaw before going into the kitchen to take the phone call. James, meanwhile, bent down and picked Hannah up. He rubbed yet another tissue across her poor nose, which was beginning to chap and turn red from all the abuse it had been suffering over the last few days.
She squealed and arched her head away from his touch as best as her limp little body could.
“Daddy’s just helping,” he soothed. He cursed when his tissue-covered thumb snagged on a huge wad of crusted mucus, ripping it out of her nose. She screamed and began heaving great big sobs. “Oh, darling, I’m so sorry. Daddy’s so, so sorry.”
He kept repeating his apology into her ear as he cradled her close, bouncing as he walked around the living room. When she still hadn’t quieted five minutes later, Rose stepped up to him and held out her arms.
“She might be hungry,” she said. “She probably puked everything up.”
James nodded and jutted his chin to the living room. Once Rose sat down on the couch and unzipped her cardigan, he handed the baby to her. It took a few tries, but Hannah finally latched on and suckled lazily.
“Who was on the phone?” James asked, going over to where Maddie was half-asleep. She made a few noises when he picked her up, but she quieted almost instantly. He sat down beside Rose and watched the rhythmic motions of Hannah’s jaw as she nursed.
“Elizabeth,” Rose replied. “Serendipitously, the DNA results came in. Hannah and Maddie are indeed identical twins.”
“No shit,” he grumbled to Rose’s amusement.
Rose knocked her knee into his, then reclined against him.
“Are you feeling all right?” he asked. “We’re surrounded by four snotty, feverish kids. It’s only a matter of time ‘til we get infected.”
“I’m okay, I think,” she said. “Though I am utterly exhausted—part of me wishes Ainsley and Sianin could go to school so I could nap more easily.”
“They’ll probably sleep for most of the day,” he said, hoping that were true.
Rose hummed noncommittally. Then she said, “Oh, crap. The girls and I are supposed to have a hair appointment tomorrow. But I dunno if I want to take them out anywhere when they’re ill.”
“Gimme your phone, I’ll cancel it,” he said. “Want me to reschedule for next weekend? No, wait, that’s Sianin’s birthday. Er… the following weekend then? Unless you want a mid-week evening appointment?”
“I promised Sianin we’d make it a girls’ day out,” Rose answered, digging her phone out of her pocket. “Better try for the weekend after next. Thanks, love.”
“Anything for you,” he replied, making a kissy face at her before he called Rose’s preferred hairdresser and moved the appointment.
The entire family spent the day napping and generally lazing about the house. Ainsley and Sianin had no energy and the twins were uncomfortable and fussy. The sounds of their near-constant whimpering and wailing drove Sianin to tears—“They’re so loud and I’m so tired!”—so James and Rose traded off spending time with their sick babies in the living room and their sick bigger babies in their bedroom.
James made a mental note to strip his and Rose’s sheets that weekend as he lay with Ainsley and Sianin, each of them coughing and sneezing all over him and the bed. (He tried to ignore the tickle in the back of his throat… it was just early allergies, is all.) Ainsley’s and Sianin’s hot cheeks were pressed to his chest as they cuddled into his side, and he wrapped his arms around them, hugging them tight and wishing he could magic their illnesses away. 
He joined his children in a nap that did wonders for his sleep-deprivation headache. When he awoke, he saw he’d been sleeping for over three hours.
Bugger, he thought to himself, especially when he realized Ainsley and Sianin were no longer beside him. He rubbed his fingertips across his sleep-crusted eyes and stumbled into the living room, where blissful silence greeted him.
Ainsley and Sianin were snuggled up together on the couch, a blanket strewn across them. Rose sat in the rocking reclining chair, the twins curled to her chest. Her eyes were glazed and she looked like she was about to nod off.
Rose glanced over at him as he approached and gave him a weary smile.
“Feel better?” she asked, tilting her face up to accept his swift peck.
“Loads,” he replied. “You could have woken me sooner. I feel bad I left you alone for so long.”
“We were fine,” she said, then she looked down at the twins. “Weren’t we, girls? Haven’t you been so good for Mummy this afternoon?”
He brushed the backs of his fingers across both babies’ foreheads. They didn’t seem as hot anymore, but their little chests were still rapidly rising and falling as they strained to breathe.
“I hate this,” he murmured.
He didn’t remember ever having this much concern for his sick children before. Then again, he couldn’t remember one of his children getting sick this young. They weren’t even two weeks old yet; their immune system was still pathetically fragile, and with every cough and sneeze and cry of their delicate bodies, his heart broke.
“I know, love,” Rose said.
“Do you need a break?” he asked. “Want to go lie down?”
“Would you mind?” she asked.
“Yep, I definitely mind you getting a bit of rest after I took a three-hour nap in the sanctuary of our bedroom.”
“Smartarse,” she said fondly.
“Give me a minute to wee and get a snack,” he said.
When he returned, he took the twins from Rose and shooed her off down the hallway.
Finally by the weekend, the prognosis wasn’t as bleak. Sianin and Ainsley were more or less better, minus some lingering sniffles and exhaustion. The twins’ breathing had also returned to normal, and now they were just snotting all over themselves as their sinuses continued to drain.
After an exhausting morning of cleaning up yet another vomiting spell by the twins, James settled with both babies on the couch while Rose, Sianin, and Ainsley played the kids’ edition of Monopoly. 
“Can we watch a film?” Ainsley asked when the game was over.
“Sure,” James mumbled, half-asleep. “Pick something out.”
“Daddy, I wanna cuddle,” Sianin announced.
“Daddy’s cuddling with the babies,” Rose said. 
“No, no,” James said, slowly wriggling himself to the center cushion. “I don’t have any arms, but if you don’t mind being the point person with snuggling…”
He let the sentence dangle, and Sianin’s face lit up. She clambered onto the couch and pressed herself into James’s side, wrapping her arms around his middle as far as they could go without squishing a baby.
A moment later, Ainsley came to his other side and lay down with her cheek pillowed on his thighs.
“Everyone comfy?” he asked as Rose draped blankets around both eldest children.
“Mhm.”
Ainsley was already half-asleep, but Sianin was flipping through Netflix for something to watch. She eventually settled on an animated film they’d seen dozens of times. He could probably quote it in his sleep. At least he could use this time to rest and not think about anything.
He was proud of himself that he managed to make it twenty minutes into the movie before he felt himself begin to doze off. Rather than fight it, he secured his grip on the twins and let his head fall back. After days of caring for four sick children, James’s exhaustion caught up with him. His mind went utterly, blissfully blank as he joined his daughters in a late morning nap.
He was groggy and disoriented when he awoke some time later, but the moment he realized the warm weight of two babies was gone from his arms, he jolted upright. Before his panic could choke him, he saw both babies facing him from the safety of their cots.
“Thank God,” he muttered, having had visions of Hannah and Maddie on the floor, face-down, with their necks cocked at awkward angles.
Ainsley and Sianin were still tucked beside him, but now that his arms weren’t full of the twins, they’d more completely wrapped themselves around him. Sianin was half-straddling his lap, her head tucked in the crook of his neck and a knee hovering precariously over his groin. That was the first thing he shifted away from him, not only to save his bits from being squashed, but also because he was in desperate need of the loo and her leg pressed into his lower abdomen uncomfortably.
Sianin stirred when he scooted her to the side.
“Hey, darling,” he whispered as she blinked up at him in confusion. “You can keep sleeping, but Daddy needs to get up.”
She grunted unintelligibly and rolled away from him, resting her head on the armrest.
Ainsley’s cheek was pillowed on his thigh, and she’d reached up and was hugging his knees. He unwrapped her arm from his legs, then slowly shuffled out from under her head. He guided it onto the couch cushion, folding up a blanket to support her neck. She sighed and hugged her blanket around her shoulders, tucking her face into the soft fabric.
Despite his screaming bladder, James leaned down and pressed a kiss apiece to Ainsley’s temple, then Sianin’s, overwhelmed by how much he loved his kids.
Once he’d relieved himself, he moved to the kitchen for something to nibble and found Rose sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop and camera. She was bowed over a steaming mug, a tissue mangled in her hands.
“Rose?” he asked, setting his hands on her shoulders.
She started and glanced up at him. Her eyes were red and puffy. His heart fell.
“What’s wrong, love?” He pulled up a chair beside her and sank into it as he reached out and rested his hand on her thigh.
“Nothing,” she croaked, a trembling smile crossing her lips. “Postpartum hormones, y’know.”
He frowned. 
“Honestly,” she insisted. Then she turned away from him and pressed a few buttons on her computer. “Look at this.”
She pivoted the laptop towards him, and his breath caught in his throat. Rose must have photographed him with the girls as they napped on him. She’d forever frozen this moment in time, the stillness of having four of his favorite humans in his arms or pressed up next to him, all of them sleeping peacefully.
His throat tightened; he wanted to live forever in this photo.
“When we were trying to get pregnant, my mind would always show me visions of you holding all of our kids,” she said softly, her voice breaking. “I wanted that so badly.”
“Me too,” he croaked, remembering back to that desperate yearning that had overtaken his entire body.
“But those pictures my mind conjured up were so weak compared to the real thing,” Rose continued.
“Well, probably because you imagined only three kids,” he drawled, earning him a pinch on the side. Sobering, he admitted, “I thought I knew how this would feel. I thought I knew how utterly in love I would be. But God, this is so intense. Don’t get me wrong—I was overwhelmed when Ainsley and Sianin were born. But somehow the birth of Hannah and Maddie has exponentially increased how much I love them, too. And you, Rose.”
“I’m so happy, James,” she said, covering his hand with hers. “I’m so happy.”
She looked it, too. Despite the difficulties of these past few days and the exhaustion that painted dark smudges beneath her eyes, she hadn’t lost the radiance of joy that becoming a mum again had given to her.
He swallowed against the lump in his throat and scooted his chair as close to hers as he could. He wrapped his arms around her, crushing her to him.
“I saw those visions too,” he murmured. “When we were trying… I saw you pregnant, and nursing, and helping Ainsley and Sianin hold our baby, and crouching beside a wobbly toddler who was trying to learn to walk. I saw it all.” He let out a shuddering breath, acknowledging the heartbreak he and Rose had gone through, but then replacing it with the happiness now coursing through his veins. “It was all worth it though, yeah? If we could do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“Me too,” she replied. “Though I do regret the pain we both went through and caused each other. Truly. If there was one thing I could redo, it’d be that. But Hannah and Maddie are so worth it. And I think we’re better for it, y’know? We’re stronger. Our love is stronger. I thought our communication had been great before, but now…” She let out a huge breath. “Now it’s incredible, James. We’re incredible.”
“We are, aren’t we?” he preened. He nuzzled his nose into her hair and pressed a series of kisses to it. “I’m so in love with you, Rose. I’m glad you’re my soulmate, my wife, and the mother of my kids.”
She gave him a tight squeeze but said nothing.
“What other photos did you take?” James asked, hovering his fingers over the laptop. “May I?”
Rose nodded. “‘Course.”
He pressed down on the arrow keypad and browsed the pictures Rose had imported.
“We really do make beautiful babies together,” James said, his chest puffing out as he gazed at his daughters’ faces.
“It helps that half their gene pool is from the most attractive man in the world,” Rose said, resting her cheek on his shoulder.
James blew out a breath. “Pfft. You’re the most attractive woman in the world, so that means both halves of their gene pool were comprised of the two most attractive people in the world. It was destiny it was, for them to be the most beautiful children in the world.”
Rose laughed, and James’s heart throbbed. He loved his family. He loved them more than he could possibly describe. He loved them more than his own life, a thousand times over.
“Maybe we’re a tad biased,” Rose said, a grin still splitting her face.
“Nah,” James said flippantly. “No parents are ever biased when it comes to their own kids.”
“Right,” Rose drawled.
He giggled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head and continued browsing the photographs on Rose’s computer. 
They sat together in the kitchen, basking in the silence of the house that they knew wouldn’t last, content to simply hold each other in a rare moment of stillness.
If you’ve made it to the end, consider leaving a comment or reblogging? I’d love to hear your thoughts.
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b-afterhours · 6 years ago
Text
Avenue of Sins (part seven)
summary: a story of two misfit kids from mid-west america making it big in the big apple. and in the true sense of the american dream they find themselves in a life of sex, money, drugs, and a little rock n roll too.
warnings: adult content, mature readers only.
if you’re seeing this for the first time you can read part one here and if you need to catch up on previous chapters go here.
series playlist
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Alma stirred in bed discovering that she was alone despite the fact that Bill had fallen asleep with her that night. She scanned her room briefly in her sleepy fog only to see he was nowhere to be found. The only difference she discovered was that her bedroom door was slightly ajar and the smell of rosemary and garlic wafted into her room. It felt familiar yet she couldn’t remember exactly when the last time she smelt those homey aromas but it clued her in that Bill was in the kitchen cooking. She looked above her door, to the standard round clock mounted above thinking that it must have been dinner time but it was only just an hour afternoon. Propping herself up on her elbows, her head felt as if it weighed a ton. Even with the considerate amount of hours she slept, it wasn’t enough to stave off the terrible cocaine crash she was experiencing. Her mouth felt dry, feeling as rough as a cats tongue and her hair stuck to the back of her sweaty neck. She collapsed against the mattress wishing for a few more hours of needed sleep but she begrudgingly rolled out of bed with a growling stomach for a quick shower.
With wet hair and a long tartan button up and panties she met Bill in the kitchen where he was plating fettuccine noodles topped off with chunks of chicken breast that had been cooked in a creamy sun-dried tomato sauce. He gave her a winking glance with a cigarette perched between his lips. Even in just his trousers and white tank top, she found him looking as handsome as he’d ever been.
“Cooking?” She smiled leaning against the archway between the kitchen and the small dining room.
“Yup it’s been awhile,” he said nudging his head for her to follow as he took both of their plates to the dining table.
“It has… and what about the club?”
“We can be a little later than usual. I already gave Cooch and Theo a heads up.” Convincing Bill to give them keys to open the venue was a pain in the ass but it was nice to not have to be there early or rather in this case late and having to face their disgruntled employees as they waited outside for them. “Anyway, eat.” He said handing her a fork as she took a seat. “I made your favorite.”
She looked at him skeptically before wrapping her hand around the fork he held before her. “Everything is okay, right? You didn’t… did you?”
“What?” Bill shook his head. “No, not that. I just thought we’d have a meal that isn’t take-out or pizza for once.”
Alma nodded, stabbing her fork into her chicken. Honestly, regardless of how good it looked and how tasty she knew it was, she wasn’t very hungry but for his efforts, she dug in. Bill watched her twirl and twirl and twirl her fork full of noodles only to take small bites out of the mound she had accumulated on the tines. She had put a considerate dent into her meal but she couldn’t help but feel just a little ungrateful when she saw Bill’s plate nearly clean. Noticing, he was quick to suggest to save it for her as leftovers.
“Thanks,” she smiled appreciatively. “I’m gonna get dressed,” she pushed her chair across the linoleum floor but before heading off she stuck her thumb out to wipe away a speckle of sauce from his mustache. It was a courteous gesture but it was so loving. He wanted to kiss her, to wrap her in his arms yet he held back. They were both on the right foot again so he was cautious about derailing it by being too needy. After all, they had only made up the night before. Besides after last night, there was so much there that hadn’t been addressed and quite frankly he didn’t have the balls to. …
It was a quiet night at Trigger Finger XXX and although steady Alma sent half her staff home only leaving Praline, Raven, and Diego and unfortunately Craig –  who charmingly convinced her to finish out his shift. She wondered when the hell Bill was going to kill him. One moment she was fine with him and the next she couldn’t stand his childish behavior but deep down she just felt sorry for him.
Portia had sauntered over to the bar after her set, digging into her cash pouch and gathering a few bills. “Could I get a tequila sunrise, sweets,” she asked. 
She was wearing white daisy dukes and a southwestern styled fringe jacket with nothing underneath it was a total bite off Kansas western gig. She wasn’t a favorite among the dancers in the club since she often stole other girls bits piggybacking off their acts as a way to gain extra cash for herself. She didn’t need to, her usual noir film damsel act earned her enough money. Past her snobby attitude, she was insecure about her knobby knees and the hard edges of her body as she was not as filled out like the other girls were.
While Alma prepared the cocktail she reached for the decanter of orange juice only to discover it was empty. She turned her head towards Raven who had already taken notice biting her lip nervously. It was her job to make sure the bar was stocked and for it being a slow night there wasn’t a good excuse she could muster up.
“I’ll grab some from the back,” she said quickly. “And I’ll check everything else.”
Alma sighed, shaking her head as she drew a cigarette from her pack. “It’s gonna be a sec’,” she said to Portia muffled by the cigarette she held between her lips as she lit it. “Get off your feet I’ll have Raven bring your drink over to you.”
Portia slid her bills across the bar rolling her eyes and as soon as she turned her back Alma lifted a corner of her top lip, sneering at her attitude. She was feeling antsy for another bump and luckily Raven had swiftly come back with two cartons of juice in hand and finished Portia’s drink for herself.
“Sorry,” she said before her boss could sneak off. “I tried to fill the bottles earlier but Craig’s been in an out of the back room yelling on the damn phone.”
“Great,” Alma sighed blowing smoke. “Where is he now?”
“He’s still back there.”
“You went alone knowing he was back there?”
“Well, I couldn’t wait any longer...”
Alma put her finger up and took off stomping to the stock room. She couldn’t be pissed at Raven, she should have been watching him anyway. Near the very back, in the view between pillars of boxes, she spotted him repeatedly slamming the receiver into the wall mount on the verge of tears.
“Hey!?” She said flicking her cigarette to the floor causing embers skittering across the concrete floor.
“Shit,” he said blinking his tears away rapidly as he gained his composure. It was strange catching him having a human moment when he often hid behind an act of cocky arrogance which was hard to sympathize with. 
“What’s going on? You can’t slam equipment around unless you plan to replace it.” 
“Okay, okay,” he said putting his hands up defensively. “Sorry,” he said taking a deep breath to calm his nerves.
“You can go home like I said you should earlier...”
“Not right now, I can’t go home right now.”
“I’m not telling you to go home. Where ever you go when you leave here isn’t my business,” she reached into her back pocket for her personal baggie of coke. “Do you mind?”
Craig simply shook his head. “Veronica, I mean, Blondie’s been giving me shit all day I don’t want to go home to a shit show, showdown you know...”
“Veronica.” Alma scoffed as she stuck her little finger in the pink baggie shoveling a mound out with her nail. “You know I gave her the name Blondie? Anyway, I don’t blame you I guess,” she snorted the powder, pinching her nose off briefly before digging in a second time. “But, you can’t spend your shift arguing with her on the club’s phone. Leave that bullshit at home.”
“Yeah...” Craig nodded, sighing as he looked terribly defeated. If he were fighting with anyone else besides Blondie maybe she would have lent her sympathies but she was too familiar with her pettiness that she couldn’t bring herself to. “She just gets really jealous sometimes. She’s pissed about me getting to see all the girls perform while I work.”
“Well… what does she expect this is a strip club?”
“Exactly! I asked her if she wanted me to work fucking blindfolded and she seriously said yes!”
Alma lightly laughed. “She’s fuckin’ nuts. You wanna bump? Feels rude not to ask even if it's you.”
Craig cracked a smile, “Well if you’re offering.” He took a few steps over to her where she leaned on shipment boxes and bent down aligning his nostril to her jutted out little finger. He smelled strongly of hair mousse but also she smelled the faint fresh musk of Acqua Di Gio, the same Bill wore. It was an expensive fragrance, she knew for a fact since she had bought it for Bill as a Christmas gift. No wonder he owed his cousins' so much money he was burning it all on himself. “Mm, thanks,” he said wiping his nose. “You know you guys have better shit than what my cousins have?”
“I’ve heard,” she smirked.
“If they wouldn’t cut it to hell maybe their clientele wouldn’t come scurrying here for any. I tell them all the time but they don’t listen.”
“Hm,” Alma nodded. “Well, we should probably head out now?”
“Right you mind if I get another though?” He said mussing the dark curls on his head into place.
What Alma and Craig hadn’t known was that while they were chatting in the stock room Blondie had come to the club waltzing in like a whirlwind looking for him. He had hung up in her face and she was going to tell him in person exactly how she felt about it. That was until Bill stood tall, looming from his high rise VIP section leering right at her in contempt. She wasn’t banned but she wasn’t necessarily welcomed either. She ignored him heading straight for the bar in her frenzy.
“What in the hell?” Cooch said to Bill who was talking business with him beforehand. “She’s not allowed here, right? Want me to get her out?”
“No, let me see what’s going on,” he told her. In a haste, he walked to the bar where Blondie was interrogating his staff on her boyfriends' whereabouts.
“Hey,” he said grabbing her by the arm. “What do you think you’re doing here, huh?”
She softened her features once in his presence. “Bill…” she sighed, smitten. “Oh, I uh-”
“I uh, what?” He mocked. “Come with me. We can talk in my office you’re making a fucking scene out here.” 
As Bill pulled her to follow she pointed at Violet who was inviting a client to the private room below the loft. “I see you’ve gotten yourself another blonde bitch in here!��� 
“Go. Don’t make another fuckin’ peep,” he said pushing her towards the stairs. 
“She’s not me though,” she grinned devilishly much to Bill’s annoyance. 
When Bill closed the door behind him, he stood with his back towards it. He didn’t want to lead her further in giving her any ideas but it was all for naught when in an instant she was all over him. He began pushing her way but she pulled his arms around her body placing his hand on her bottom. Her dress was so short, he could feel the skin right on the crease where her ass and thigh met with his fingertips. She was a desperate, hopeless little thing for him.
“Blondie quit,” he said pulling his arms away again but not before he copped a feel. She groped him through his pants. Which made him coil back a bit when he initially thought she was going for his gun but the thought faded when he felt that familiar rousing he’d been missing for too long. Before he could give in to her touch he placed both of his hands on her shoulders shoving her away at arm's length. “I said stop.” Dejected Blondie shrugged his hands off and fluffed up her teased bleached to hell hair back in place. “I appreciate the enthusiasm but desperate doesn’t look good on you, dear.”
“Oh fuck this,” she groaned trying to push past him but he blocked the door.
“Why the hell are you here?”
“’Cause my boyfriend – who’s about to be my ex – is being a fuckin’ wise ass. He hung the phone up on-”
“Christ, that’s enough,” he said waving her off. “I don’t care what you and Craig have going on. You have to leave. I can’t have you in my club causing shit-”
“Or what you’re gonna take me out back and beat my ass too? Huh?”
“Fuck sake. Blondie you quit working here that was on you. Just because your boyfriend-”
“Ex.”
“Ex whatever works here. Who, might I add, is enough trouble on his own and we don’t need you adding to that, alright.”
“Well, I don’t like him working here seeing all these girls tits who hate me!”
“Take that up with his cousins then?” Blondie shook her head at that impossible thought. “Right, you wouldn’t dare.”
“So but – I don’t like that he works with Alma at the bar! Okay!? Can’t you put him on security or something Bill? Just not, with her.”
“I knew it,” Bill shook his head. “I fucking knew it but I’m not going to do shit about it. And I’m especially not about to talk about how I run my club with you.”
“Craig… I can’t trust him when it comes to other girls. You remember what he was doing to earn that ass-whoopin'.”
“And, what were you just doing as soon as I shut the door? I don’t think he’d be very happy to know you were touching my dick?”
“I-I just can’t help myself when it comes to you,” she feigned a pout. “I miss what we had,” she pressed her body along his.
“Stop.”
“I know… you only have eyes for... for her. But we had something? You can’t deny that.”
“Maybe you’d like to think that. But whatever it was, it’s over.”
“Are you sure though?” She pressed her self harder against him, smashing her tits on him pushing them to the verge of popping out her dress top.
“It’s time for you to leave. Deal with Craig at home,” he said reaching for the doorknob behind him and stepping aside for her to exit.
When they had reached the bottom step from the loft Alma and Craig had emerged from the stock room together laughing about something but it cut short. The four of them stopped dead in their tracks for a moment all observing each other, gauging the vibe. Alma looked from Bill to Blondie, blinking in disbelief before pulling her brows together and her top lip turning up slightly, perplexed yet disgusted. She could sense that Craig had done the same but despite all the accusations he could have thrown at his boss and his girlfriend he steered away from it instead, directing all his anger towards Blondie. 
“Blondie what the fuck?” Craig said. “You come to my job looking for me really?”
Bill raised his hands up. “Enough. Craig, get off the clock and go home. Take her with you,” he said pointedly looking down at her.
“Come on baby. I missed you,” she said pouting up to him just as she was with Bill not even five minutes ago.
Craig swallowed hard looking like he was holding back a scream. He grabbed hold of her hand leading her out the club feeling pathetic, taking her back for what might have been the hundredth time. Bill leaned on the bar in front of Alma pulling a smoke from his pack, shaking his head.
“They’re a mess,” he said darkly laughing.
“Hundred percent. Looks like you got a taste of it before she left though,” she said flicking a spot just below the collar of his slate gray dress shirt. He looked down to a smudged pink lipstick print and rolled his eyes.
“I didn’t touch that bitch,” he said as he tried to dab it away with a cotton rag Alma had handed him. “I swear.”
Alma raised her brows. “She’s lucky.”
“What?”
“I was this close,” she said with her thumb and index centimeters apart, “to beating her ass.”  ...
A day later Alma had stepped out buying cartons of orange juice from the bodega down the street from the club. Raven also failed to inform her that the two cartons she had gotten from the stock room was all the juice they had for the weekend. She couldn’t blame her, it was Alma’s fuck up too not realizing she forgot to add it to the restock list. 
Lately, she felt that she was losing it, she was always on top things at work but not so much. She was feeling antsy, only thinking about her next cigarette, her next beer, or her next bump. And although she was high most of the time, she couldn’t even focus on what was important and when she came crashing down everything became foggy. She was overdoing it, she knew it. Maybe she had a problem – actually, she knew she had a problem but she took to an account that her life wasn’t crashing down because of it and that was enough to justify her habit even if by a little bit.
The bodega man, Kwame, a man with long amber brown dreadlocks meticulously stacked in a bun on his head and wrinkled cheeks was helping her fill a spare milk crate with all the juice she bought that would tie them over when the next shipment arrived Monday; while she snacked on a bag of plantain chips she grabbed from a rack by they counter adding it to her total.
“You need help carrying this? Please, take my nephew he will help,” he said pointing at his disinterested nephew who was sitting down watching a soccer match on a small buzzing tube tv set. Shooing away the orange bodega cat who was rubbing its head on his shin vying for his attention.
“I’m not too far, Kwame. He kinda looks busy anyway,” she winked, tucking her bag of chips in the crate and putting her half-smoked unlit cigarette between her teeth while perching the crate on her hip.
“Busy my ass!” She heard Kwame say as she pushed out the door with her shoulder.
She was halfway back struggling with the weight of the crate that only seemed to get heavier the closer she got to the club. When she heard someone call for her it felt all too familiar like deja vu. Only this time she was walking towards the club she now worked instead of away feeling crushed and hopeless when she first arrived in New York. And instead of Bill, she turned her head back and saw Craig jogging up to her, grabbing the crate from her arms.
“Shit that got heavy,” she said shaking out her arm. “But I could have carried it.”
“I know you could have,” he smirked.
“You seem to be in a better mood.”
“Eh,” he shrugged. “Better than usual I suppose?”
“Glad to get rid of your ex?”
“Ex? What? I haven’t broken up with Blondie?”
“Oh.”
“Why?”
“I, I just assumed after...” She didn’t mean to slip up but that night after Blondie stormed in, Bill told her all about their conversation in the loft before bed. “Nevermind.”
Craig walked backward, pushing the club door open while letting her in first. Bill was there at the bar with his paranoia creeping up on him once again when he saw them together. They seemed friendly in the way coworkers were but even that, was the last thing he wanted. Alma was all business and knew Craig had a target on his back but if she formed some type of attachment it could fuck everything up. Besides that, it bothered him knowing what type of person he was that she would even give him any time of day outside the usual work orders.
“Just in time,” Bill said stubbing out his cigarette out in a glass ashtray on the bar just as soon as Craig walked passed him with a nod. “We’ve got some important business.”
“Important?” She lifted a knowing eyebrow.
“To the loft, love,” he said placing an arm around her waist, his fingers grazing her tight jeaned ass.
Her heart pounded in her chest, it always happened when she was anticipating a romp with him. He knew her body so well, he could touch her here and caress her there and she melted in his hands like a strawberry swirl on a hot summers day, sticky and sweet.
They broke apart once they entered the loft, he took the lead towards his desk as her hands went to the top button of her jeans but stopped when he reached into his desk drawer pulling out the white land phone he kept hidden and placed it on top the desk while he sat. Her hands immediately snapped away from her waist, she felt silly for completely crossing his signals. She also found it peculiar, she was feeling desperate for his touch, didn’t he feel the same? It had been a while since they hooked up. She figured he might be getting it in with someone else but then with who? Her mind wandered briefly thinking maybe something did happen with him and Blondie the other night but it wasn’t like him to lie about something like that. Still, she wondered.
“I got a beep from Joey. I figured since we’re gonna be a team on this I’ll let you listen in on whatever the hell he has to say,” he said looking less than pleased with having to speak with a Russo.
“Oh shit...” she reached into his shirt pocket taking his pack of smokes as she sat on his desk next to him. “He’s probably wondering what’s the hold-up,” she said hushed before drawing on her cigarette.
“Maybe but I have some questions of my own.” He dialed on the receiver and held the phone to his ear as it rang.
Alma hunkered down a bit, putting her ear as close to the receiver as she could so that she could listen in. She smoked silently while they gave each other surprisingly pleasant greetings.
“Well, I’ve got two questions for you buddy,” Joey said.
“Well, I’ve got one for you first.”
“Go on.”
“I need Blondie gone.”
Alma whipped her head towards Bill, her lips apart in shock looking almost dumbfounded. Was he really asking the Russo’s to whack Blondie too? Of course, she didn’t like her whatsoever but not so much that she deserved to end up at the bottom of the Hudson.
“That, that was one of my questions… What the hell was she doing over there? She missed her set here and we put two and two together. Are you trying to pull some shit on us?”
“Pulling shit? No one’s pulling nothing but your favorite little cousin!”
“Alright, alright cool it. Those two are a fuckin’ mess, I know. She’s always crying about something in the dressing room every other night but I just wanna know what the hell compelled her to even step foot on your turf when she works for us now?”
Bill plucked Alma’s half-smoked cigarette from her fingers and took a long lung burning drag that he often did when he felt stress. “She’s got some issues with an employee of mine,” he said shifting his eyes at Alma briefly. “She gets jealous-”
“Does she!”
“She walked her happy ass in my club causing a scene interrogating my whole bar crew on whether he was cheating on her.”
“Christ, I see.”
“Now I’ll hold my end of the deal but I can’t have her starting shit when her beau goes missing. She goes snooping enough it’s your ass too.”
“You make a good point, I have to admit.”
“She’s a hellion. She gets under peoples skin for a fucking hobby.”
“I know you two had a thing. This certain employee though, it doesn’t so happen to be your girl Alma would it?”
“Alma?” She said harshly. Bill put his finger up for her to keep quiet but she shoved it away. “He knows my name?” He quickly cupped his hand around the speaking end of the phone to keep Joey from hearing her.
“Shut up,” he said through his teeth, brows raised. “You’re fine, okay?”
Alma huffed, “I guess...” she ripped the nearly gone cigarette from his fingers taking the last drag to the filter.
“Bill?”
“Sorry,” he began as he slid his hand away from the receiver, “the line must have crossed or somethin’. But yeah, unfortunately.”
“Hmm. I’ll talk to Batter about it but I’m sure we can get her out of your hair. Which leads me to my second question, when are you gonna get it done buddy?”
Alma turned to Bill with a look that said I-told-you-so. “As soon as Blondie’s a non-issue. I need him out of here as bad as y’all do.”
“Sounds good to me. How is he there by the way?”
“He doesn’t give me much trouble unless he brings personal bullshit from home here. But surprisingly, he’s not a bad employee.”
“Wow, you musta beat his ass real good cause he was worthless here,” Joey laughed. “Well then, I’ll give you beep on Blondie and you take it from there kid. Later.”
“Wait. Uh, may I ask what you’re gonna do to her.”
“Don’t worry about that. Worry about what you gotta do.” Click.
Alma sat back on the desk while she watched Bill light another cigarette, leaning back in his chair and hooking his other thumb in the front of his waistband.
“So that’s what was important? You’re ordering hits with our enemy?”
“I wasn’t necessarily ordering a hit. I just need her gone, however, that might be. I thought you’d be happy to hear that?”
“I am… but I’m not happy about racking up a body count now all of a sudden? One is okay but two-”
“One isn’t even okay, what are you even saying? How fucking high are you right now?”
Alma glowered at him, her lips hard pressed. “You got yourself into this shit Bill. I know one isn’t okay? But for as long as you’ve been running the show here and how cocky you can get you’re lucky it has now only been one!”
Bill rolled his eyes. “Remind me not to have you for any more calls then. If you want to act like that.”
“Fine then,” Alma shrugged. “Being left in the dark was heaven now that I look back. Frankly, when you said important business I thought you wanted to fuck,” she pushed off the desk and on to her feet to leave but he quickly sat up snatching her by the thigh pulling her back on to his lap.
“So,” he said sliding his hand up her warm thighs. The smoke from his cigarette wisping and whirling around them. The smell and the Acqua Di Gio he wore was making her dizzy. “That’s why you’ve been so wound tight, huh? You’ve been wanting me inside you?”
Alma bit her lip, shying away from the intensity of his eyes. She wanted him bad but being stubborn she shook her head.
“No?” He slid his hand as far as it could go, pressing her jeans against her pussy causing her to coil at his touch ever so slightly. “If I kissed you would you change your mind?” Her heart was thumping in her chest and all she could do was nod as she swallowed hard. Bill reached over to the corner of his desk, setting his cigarette down to give himself a free hand. “Do you want me to kiss you here,” he pointed at her lips, “or here?” He asked squeezing her with his other hand making her whimper. “Tell me what you want, baby girl?”
She responded by connecting her lips with his, kissing him feverishly while he still worked her through her jeans only this time she bucked her hips against his hand wanting more sensation than what the material would allow. She sucked on his tongue moaning as she did it until she slid off his lap and sat back on the desk in front of him shrugging off her leather jacket. He got to his feet trying to help her out of her sheer body suit but she stopped him.
“Wait you gotta unclasp it from the bottom first. Help me get these off,” she asked as she sucked in her belly struggling to get the ultra tight pants off.
“I really miss your tight little dresses right now,” he said as he struggled with it as well while trying not to hurt her. She had to agree with him on that. If she were wearing one he’d already have his head buried between her legs by now. “Christ is this why you asked for a wrench this morning? To get these on?” He said just as he got them unbuttoned and ripped them down her legs laughing with her.
There was a knock at the door, they both groaned turning their attention towards it.
“Tell them to go away,” Alma hissed.
“What?!” Bill hollered.
“Uh It’s Theo Boss, I’ve got Alvin with me,” he announced from the other side of the door.
“Shit,” Bill said slamming his fist against his desk. “I gotta take this.”
“Really? Tell him to wait a second we can-”
“I don’t like keeping him here long, love. Sorry...” he said pecking her lips.
“But my pants?”
“You’ve got a dress in the cash cabinet? I broke a sweat just trying to take them off.”
“Fine,” she groaned sliding off his desk, rubbing the sore skin on her stomach where her jeans cut into her skin.
“It’ll make it easier for later?” He winked watching her shimmy out the rest of her clothes. He felt his dick twitch seeing her in just her tiny panties in the corner of the room thinking about what could have been. “No panties, take those off. I don’t want anything else in the way.”
Alma slid into her black crushed velvet mini dress, one with a plunging draped neckline. She reached under the skirt and pulled her panties off with a smirk, twirling it around on her finger as she approached him.
“God damn it,” he said playfully leaving scratchy mustached kisses from her shoulder up to her neck. “I was about to fuck you up baby girl.”
“Boss?”
“Hold your horses,” Bill said opening the door for his bodyguard and his guest.
“Coulda let us in sooner me and the oaf wouldn’t have minded a private show,” Alvin patted Bill’s shoulder.
“What show?” Alma retorted back. “No one in a five-mile radius can get off when your skeezy ass is around.”
“Nice to see you too Miss Echo!”
“Go, take a seat Alvin, Christ.”
With her panties balled in her fist, she discreetly tucked them into Bill’s front pocket, “something to remember me by.”
Bill smiled and kissed her on her way out. It was funny, he thought when she’d put on a show for him. Like she needed to earn her way into his pants. He would drop to his knees with a simple snap of her fingers. Although he insinuated a merciless fucking – one where he’d choke the breath from her as he pinned her head against his desk while he slammed hard and deep into her he really just wanted to feel her from the inside. It made him feel safe and he felt like a chump thinking that but it was true. No one could make him feel like that but her and only her.
Once Alvin left, he cut into the half kilo brick he had bought from him taking a few hefty bumps with the sharp tip of his pocket knife. He sat back thinking of what Alma had said before about his “hit” on Blondie. He had, had a thing with that girl and now he was getting rid of her like it was nothing. He did like her, just not in the way he could promise her. She was the most volatile and exciting person he had ever met in his life. He hated playing games but he foolishly went along with hers gaining a rush from it even. He was in a weird place then. He had only been operating Trigger Finger for only a short while when he met her. Lonesome, he’d close up and take the train to an after-hours club for a beer and a good head bob to loud thrash music...
~~~
He saw her at Damned, a little hole in the wall dive bar close to where he lived at the time, looking like another Blondie lookalikes he’d often spot at punk clubs he’d frequented. She set herself apart, moshing and kicking with men twice her size and fearless. Even in the thrashing of limbs and bodies under the black lights, he could see that wild spark in her pale blue eyes right until she got elbowed straight in the nose knocking her back on her ass. She sat there stunned for a second, her nose leaking like a sieve running down her face and on to her shirt.
Compelled, Bill hopped from his seat and hurriedly helped her up afraid if she stayed there she’d gain an extra kick to the face.
“Are you okay?” He asked once they were in the clear of the pit. 
Blondie, touched her face as if she couldn’t even feel the wetness running down face clearly still in shock.
“Oh fuck? Is it bad?” She whined.
Bill raised his brows, frowning and nodded. She began to laugh maniacally, wiping the blood with the back of her hand further staining her skin and spreading it everywhere. He was taken aback for a moment wondering if she was severely concussed or if she was just insane.
“Gnarly, huh!? I got hit fuckin’ hard!” She said still laughing with blood stained teeth. “Will you get me a beer?”
“Uh, sure?”
“I deserve it? Don’t you think?”
While she certainly seemed crazy all of his red flags were ignored when they started talking about music. It was refreshing to meet someone who knew their shit, it reminded him of conversations he’d have with his old friend Alma who he hadn’t seen in some years then. When she asked about what he did for a living he was slightly hesitant to mention his line of work worried about how she might receive it but when he did she became very intrigued.
“Is it good money?”
“Depends,” he said taking a sip of his beer.
“On?”
“On how well you can shake your tits and work a pole,” he chuckled. “But it just depends. I have girls that make money all the time because they build a clientele for themselves in my club. Then some nights even the worst girls cash out more than my best. Depends.”
“Jesus. You sound like a fuckin’ pimp.”
He shrugged. “It’s not so far off I guess.”
When they parted ways that early morning she tried to go home with him until he reminded her about her busted nose.
“Right. Maybe I should get it checked? So... I’ll see you around?”
“Yeah. You can always find me at Trigger Finger. I’ll get you a drink and a show,” he winked. “Nice meeting you Veronica.”
“Pleasure,” she playfully curtsied. “See ya... oh shit, I forgot your name?”
He hadn’t seen her for months after that until she nervously walked into his club on an incredibly busy night. Theo approached the VIP booth while Bill was flanked and flirting with various girls as if it were a sport and informed him that “some girl was looking for him”. He looked passed Theo to the direction he pointed and saw Veronica there sheepishly waving cast in the pink neon light from the bar. When he joined her, she was staring wide-eyed at the stage watching Cooch clapping her heels from the top of the pole before graciously spinning down as dollar bills rained around her.
“She’s a fuckin’ amazon!” She exclaimed.
“She’s one of my best girls,” he said proudly.
Cooch came down in a smooth split, scooting toward the edge of the stage while shaking her plump rear and allowing the patrons tuck bills into the straps of her red thong.
“I can tell!”
“Here,” Bill said taking his wallet out and handing her 10 dollar bills. “Give this all to her and she’ll give you a little something back. I’ll get us a drink, have fun,” he winked.
She stood there looking at the cash hesitant until she mustered up the courage to approach the stage, fanning the money out in the air to gain her attention. She’d only ever been to a strip club once and it was hardly as extravagant and engaging as this place. Cooch crawled to her seductively once her attention was caught. She took Veronica’s wrist brushing the bills along her body before pulling the front of her panties open letting her tuck the cash inside. She was blushing the whole time trying to avoid directly staring at her tits as if it were rude to. Until Cooch took her other hand letting her run her hands over her bare breast as she stood there at a loss for words, cheeks hot with embarrassment.
“Thanks, love!” Cooch winked, twirling on her knee over to the next patron.
When she turned around towards the bar Bill was laughing with their drinks in hand.
“You should have seen your face!” He said when she approached.
“This place is wild,” she said taking her drink, laughing with him.
It only took a couple weekends hanging out and hooking up with Bill at the club that Veronica got the gumption to ask for a job. 
“Maybe you should think on it?” He was hesitant to hire her. 
“Think on what? It looks like good money and I need a job. I got fired a few weeks ago.”
“Fired for what?”
“Nothing. My boss just didn’t like me?” 
Bill lifted a brow. “Why didn’t they like you?” 
“It doesn’t matter. I just need a job... please.” She almost looked pained to say it, to be begging a near stranger.
“You know it’s hard work? My girls make it look like fun because they’re professional. I don’t like to hire girls without prior experience. When I did they were crying out of here within a week.”
“That won’t be me. I’m a fast learner!”
“You might be but I don’t do the official hire ‘til Cooch gives the green light. And she’s tough, she’s been in the business for a long time if you get the okay from her-”
“Then I can work here?”
Bill’s attention was taken watching his best friend who seemed to have fallen from the sky and back in his life that very evening walking down the steps of the loft. “Uh, maybe. If you get through Cooch you still gotta get a yes from me.”
She was going give him some sort of smart ass reply but she held her tongue knowing he wouldn’t hear her anyway. She slightly turned her head to see who he as looking at like a devoted puppy. A gorgeous shapely girl with black hair was looking at him in the same way. Veronica had noticed girls take an admirable shine towards him during her visits but how she was looking at him was genuine. Like he was the shining light at the end of a tunnel. She felt an irrational pang of jealous bubble within her with how they looked like lovesick teenagers. 
Foolish, she thought she may have been the only girl he’d been legitimately interested in by how he charmed her. She should have known better to think a strip club owner would have loyalty to anyone with so much pussy running around him. Though she wasn’t positive that if she did take that to account sooner that she still wouldn’t have bent over for him across his desk the other night giving her the best fuck of her life but it made her sick.
“I’ll talk to Coo-” she began to say but he was blatantly ignoring her, waving Alma over to the bar with a smile stuck on his face and forgetting she even existed. “See you later,” she said but her dejection was drowned out by the loudspeakers. “Bye then,” she said grabbing her purse and flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder.
“Sure,” Bill nodded hardly even hearing her.
Alma took her space right after as Bill ordered her a drink. “Who was that?” She asked.  
“Some yuppie...” 
tags: @dreamtherapy @bskarsgardlove92 @tinygayfungi@skarswhat @nutinanutshell @xskarsgardx @reinamysterio @darling-dearest-desired@erika-beau-berika @fine-i-suppose @corlin90 @codependentcellist @loveforbillskasgard@kikilikes @twosupergayghosts @umbriellethenightfall @tigers-pat @billullabies
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junkyardlynx · 6 years ago
Text
Pt. 10
She was in a bad way.
Her teeth had been impacted through her cheek, white tombstones flecked with red grit peeking through. She smiled in spite of it as I reached out to touch her shoulder with a shaky hand, fresh blood welling up in her mouth from the effort of the movement. My chest, already heaving, felt suddenly empty and cold. The fire from before was gone. Casting a critical eye eye over her, I could tell that her jaw was broken in several places and her cheekbone was mostly shattered; scorch marks from the flame of his fist had imparted second degree burns to her flesh. She shouldn’t be standing right now. I could tell that she’d managed to throw up a barrier of ice just before impact.
Sarisa would have died if she didn’t.
My breathing became erratic and frantic as I looked around for a scrap of flesh, a mote of mana, anything. I could easily heal this, it would be fine, if I could just find a scrap of material, plea-
It was just...gone. 
Amduisas and I had used it all up. Even his body was gone, as it was more thought than flesh - when the will and mana that comprised it was exhausted, it couldn’t maintain it’s form and turned to a brittle husk of, well, nothing.
If I’d fought more carefully, if I thought about what I was doing for once, if I just...
It was too late to think like that.
“Sarisa, follow me. I need to, ah, dress your wound.”
Her right hand, burned and slightly bloody, found mine. 
She gave it a tender squeeze. 
The weight she entrusted to me as she leaned to my side was less than it should be, but more than I could bear. 
She nudged me with her shoulder.
I suppose that was her way of saying “let’s go” without saying it. We started walking, heading towards our destination, though I was sure nothing remained for us to find. This was all orchestrated too well. They probably meant for us both to perish back there, as the...reagents required to summon a Duke of Soritoroth were particularly hard to come by. Not many people had that high of a magical capacity, and the number required was frankly insane. You had to be insane to do anything like that. Insane. It was simply without sanity.
Just like everything about my fucking life, apparently. Seeing Rissa’s shattered face might just mark the first time I’ve ever cursed this existence. Well, it’s not like it was anything I could fix by having regrets. The time for that was long past. I’d given too much of myself, my soul, my innocence to discard this way.
The observatory loomed in the distance like some sort of voyeuristic patron of our struggles, the rusted and decaying dome open slightly as a broken telescope hung partially out of it. It reminded me of a sleeping dog, in a way. Watching and waiting on the edge of consciousness for the return of it’s master. Would it cause a ruckus when that lost master returned to it?
As we approached the building proper, we could see the immense disrepair it was in. The white paint was cracked and peeled away, revealing the dull concrete underneath. The sign denoting it’s name had completely rusted away, the reddish-brown of oxidized metal being the only thing left. A small auxiliary building constructed from wood and sheet metal stood as an access and rest area into the observatory dome itself.  Noting the obvious signs of recent use, I suddenly turned to Rissa and let go of her hand. 
She looked at me quizzically. 
That gave me enough time to scoop her up with one arm under her knees and the other under her shoulders, carrying her into the doorway. Almost like one spouse carrying another into the bedroom. I shook my head of the thought even as my cheeks went red, placing her on top of a relatively clean table.
“Sorry.”
I could read her as well as she read me, and the look in her eyes was, ah, yeah. Something of a “No you’re not, playboy.” I could hear the playful reprimand. 
I wanted to hear that playful reprimand.
I stripped my torn and mostly-useless shirt from my body, slipping it under her head.
“You’re probably gonna get a little of my blood on ya. You’ll just have to deal with it.”
I felt like I was talking just to fill the spaces where she’d speak. I probably was. She gave me a little shrug and the twinkle of her eyes signaled her smile to me. Once I made sure she was comfortable, I scrubbed the dirt off my hands as best I could in the sink. I was surprised at first to find that the water was running to this place, but then realized that of course it was. They’d been out here kidnapping my fucking friend and plotting my death. Gotta have water for that. 
“Give me just a sec, I’m gonna see if I can find anything useful in here before I play Surgeon Simulator on you.”
I opened dented filing cabinets, forced open warped desk drawers and pilfered mildew-ridden cupboards. My search was fruitful, and I produced an ancient pack of gauze pads and a nigh-empty bottle of hydrogen peroxide.
Ah, good. I’d really, really need those.
“Okay, close your eyes, champ. This is gonna hurt. I’d say it’s gonna hurt me more than it’s gonna hurt you, but uh, I can’t lie. This is just really gonna hurt, Rissa.” 
I swore internally at my own nervous, talkative mouth. You never talk this much! Shut up, you idiot. She’s gonna know something’s wrong. 
“Hhits’ nishe...’earing ‘ou talk.”
Oh, man. Did someone push Rhongomyniad through my chest? Her broken voice was killing me.
“Maybe I’ll have to do it more. If you speak again before I’m done though, I’m gonna delete your Steam account. C’mon, mushmouth.”
Before she could even think of formulating a response, I gave her undamaged shoulder a comforting rub and then set upon her. I carefully began to pull her cheek away from her impacted teeth, and she hissed loudly. She didn’t scream, though. 
I’d have screamed if I was her. I guess girls really do have a higher pain tolerance. Damn. 
A line of tooth-holes remained in her cheek, but her teeth were free. I pressed a section of my shirt to her dripping cheek to stem the flow of fresh blood. With that, I gave her an exaggerated thumbs up and, well. She attempted to kill me with a look. Not really, but also, kinda really. 
“Hey, I’m gonna do something and you can’t get mad.”
What? Sarisa inquired with a cock of her head.
“No, you gotta promise. You can’t get mad.”
With the most perfect eye-roll I’ve ever seen, she shrugged as if to say “whatever, fine.”
I smiled.
Reaching into a Wound under the table to extract a small dagger, I kept talking to distract her.
“I don’t think Thom’s here. I think he was here at some point, judging by the state of things, but I think...we were manipulated into coming here. They probably wanted to kill us. Too bad they suck at it.”  
I managed to hide my own hiss of pain between the “s” in suck. I was running the blade along my left side, like carving meat from a particularly juicy ham.
I needed materials, after all.
I tapped my toe in time with the steady dripping of blood to mask the sound, covering my tattered sneakers in fresh shades of red. I’d heated the blade, cauterizing the wound as it cut, but hey. Blood still happens.
Side note: don’t buy white shoes. It’s not worth it.
“But I don’t think Thom is an entirely willing participant. I think he was fed a string of lies and thinks he’s helping us or something. There’s no way he’d just give us up. I’m concerned as to how he learned, but it doesn’t matter as long as we get him back safe and sound. I still need him to teach me how to be good at Counter Strike - did you know he bought an entire fucking car with the money he earned from betting on his own matches? An entire Honda Civic.”
A piece of my own body came free, falling into my waiting hand with a soft but audible squish. Knowing my time was pretty much up, I basically threw the peroxide on my side as I hurriedly slapped the gauze patches onto my skin. 
Ah, fuck. I think she noticed. She started to scramble, the worry and anger clear as day on her currently Picasso-esque face.
“Nope. You said you wouldn’t get mad, Rissa.”
With that, I channeled mana into my hands, leaning heavily on the table. Holy shit, this actually hurt a lot. I didn’t notice my pain when I fought Amduisas, but this was different. I wasn’t in the middle of some rage-fueled fight for my life. I was talking to someone I lov-loved? Loved? Was that the word? 
I glanced at the inchoate mass of unbound life in front of me, cut from my own body.
Ah, yeah. I guess I really did love her.
The flesh, freshly separated from my body, seemed to slither through the air as it melted into a black sludge, attaching itself to her face. The teeth-holes in her cheek knit themselves closed and the crunching of bones and cartilage signaled the repairing of her own body as the viscous sludge faded.
She didn’t scream.
Sarisa just placed her hand on my wrist and gripped it tightly, nails digging into my skin. 
Hey, I can’t afford to lose more blood right now, you know? Not that I’d say it.
In a few agonizing minutes, her face was restored. Dried and flaked blood still covered her face, but the damage was healed. Unfortunately, I didn’t have enough to fully mend the burns on her hand, so they’d probably end up scarring. Add it to the list of things I’ve failed at today, I guess.
“Hey, doofus.” 
I murmured as my head slipped from the cradle of my hands, ending up on her stomach with a gentle thud.
“Seriously, Jeal? That’s gonna scar, you know. You think I’m gonna find it hot that you have a big stupid sexy scar on your side or something?”
Her playful reprimand reached my ears as darkness came over me, pulling me down into sleep. The last thing I felt was her fingers in my matted, bloodied hair.
I’d really, really need a shower when I woke up.
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bratdroid-blog · 6 years ago
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The love story of the century, in cinemas now. 
@paradoxidolatry
Coco
> You have the smuggest smug smile to ever smug on your face as you start singing for your boyfriend. 
 "Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do. 
I'm half crazy all for the love of you. 
It won't be a stylish marriage. 
I can't afford a carriage. But you'll look sweet upon the seat. 
Of a bicycle built for two."
Carro
> You are blushing ear to ear, and though you've got your mouth covered with the heel of your hand, you are grinning widely and earnestly.  You laugh, a bit breathlessly. 
 "Hal..."
Coco
> Aw yeah, that's what you lose to see. You were already feeling extra soft after last night, filled with Anime, sentimental moments and soft touches. A good reminder of why exactly you do love this man despite all his flaws. 
> You quickly pull him into a embrace, and press a sweet little kiss on his face.
"So, what do you say, Daisy?"
Carro
> You are, by all counts, a big man.  Not the biggest, no, especially in this city of meaty mobsters and bodybuilders, but you know you're fairly tall and well-built for a regular ass human.  But that doesn't stop you from feeling so small right in this moment, arms wrapped around Hal, just.  Absolutely lit up like a Christmas tree. 
> You're still grinning. 
 "You... are you serious....?"
Coco
"I don't sing Daisy Bell for just anyone, dude. Told you: It's always been just you.  I won't ever sing it for anyone else."
> You just wanted to tease him but... The moment seems just a bit too perfect to back out now. This isn't something you had ever expected or calculated but that alone makes it worth it. The unknown is exciting when you get to take the jump with your lover. 
> Weird. Were you always THIS gay?
Carro
> You are....for lack of better word, speechless.  Your mouth flaps uselessly and soundlessly for a few moments, floundering for something intelligent and witty to say, and you come up painfully, awkwardly short. 
> But you do find some words, and those words have a strange, exciting shape: "...Fuck it.  Yeah.  Yeah, sure, yes, let's.  I'd love to... I.  Yes, Hal."
Coco
> Just watching him struggle to form a sentence is already enough of a reward but the words that do end up leaving his mouth?  Make you wish you had a heart to skip a beat. 
> Once again it's a blessing that you can kiss him deeply and talk at the same time. 
"Then let's do it, Daisy Bell. You're going to be mine forever, and I'll be yours."
Carro
> You laugh again against his lips and you throw all of yourself into that kiss.  You feel 17 again--light and excited and hopeful for the future to come. 
"No one else's." 
> Shit, are you crying?  You sniff and lean back to swipe at your eyes.  Fuck, you've been doing this weaksauce shit a lot lately.  Goddamn you, Hal--reminding you that you, in fact, still have a heart.  You take a moment to step away and breathe, fan yourself off a bit, but you're still grinning. 
"Well, fuck, alright, so this is happening.  How's it happening? When? We gonna do a whole ass white wedding or?"
Coco
> This is all you ever wanted for him, and if a silly human tradition is what it takes to have him feel that again, you will gladly go along with it. You don't think either of you has ever so much as seriously thought about marriage, let alone considered getting married yourself but damn. If not him, who else? You give him his moment, but the smile on you face doesn't die for a second. Your eyes may be artificial creations but the love in your gaze is as real as it can be.  It's always been all for him. 
"Well...Don't have a ring right or anything for you babe, but I was thinking we should do something more permanent anyways. You're into tattoos yeah?"
You had considered that one for a while at least, if not in the context of god damn marriage. 
"Right now, is what I want to say but I'm afraid my papers aren't official quite yet. That means I have time to get the prettiest damn wedding dress this shit moon has ever seen though, so there's that."
Carro
> A tattoo wedding band.  Well, shit goddamn.  If that ain't just the best idea you've ever heard.  He's already given you a nice scar to mark you by.  Why not a tattoo? 
 "Fuck yeah... Fuck yeah, aight, we can do a tattoo.  Maybe engrave your finger or somethin'... get a ring to slow in it later, but just like, something to always have around that can't get lost."
God, what is this feeling?  Is this the human emotion called marriage? Aaaand then there's the papers. 
"Shit, that's right... How long's that supposed to take, anyway?"
Coco
"That's exactly what I was going to suggest. Let's do this shit. You got a tattoo shop of choice who will take us on today?" 
> You are literally buzzing with excitement. This joke got real fast but you are not complaining. 
"I'm gonna beg the Queen for this shit, dude. Bitch is a major sucker for this gay shit, I think we have good chances at getting this. About...Sec. About 80%. Messaging her as we speak."
Carro
"Might be able to find someone, but if not, y'know... I trusted you with a scalpel, I think I can trusts you with inking me up." 
> You might also literally be buzzing with excitement, and then your jaw drops. 
"You're- seriously? The Queen? Right now?"
Coco
"Aw babe... Sure, I can do it if you got the equipment." 
> That's even better actually. You haven't done this before, but with the power of internet tutorials? No biggie. 
"Fuck yeah I am. Look, we're both not great with authority and whatever, but she runs this damn gay ass moon and she adores me. Might as well use that to get my gay on. right?"
Carro
"Sure do.  I'll dig it up after the uh, the wedding I guess." 
> You laugh, and you nod, and then you... you exhale deeply, scrubbing your face with your hands as the depth of what's happening slams into you. 
"Holy fuck, we're getting married.  For real.  Tonight."
Coco
"Fuck yeah we are. She said yes. Gotta get our asses to the courthouse asap, dude." 
> Yeah, you really are vibrating with excitement. You are running too hot already, but not to the point where you are going to fry your brain for good. Just the good, gay warmth. 
> You couldn't possibly resist pulling him close for another deep kiss. 
"God. I love you so much, you piece of shit. How dare you do this to me." 
> That about sums up your relationship, yeah.
Carro
> And now you're back out of your intense spiral with a laugh and a kiss.  You hug him tight and you kiss him again and again until you are utterly breathless. 
"Cuz I fuckin love you with every little ... gay-ass bit of my heart, you motherfucker.  I can't fuckin believe us, goddamn U-haul gays.  'Hey, long time no see, you wanna move in and get hitched, maybe?'"
Coco
"You said it yourself, we've already been an old married couple before I got this sweet bod of mine. It's only right to make it official, yeah?" 
> God, you can hardly believe this yourself. Best stupid decision that started as a joke you made in your whole damn life though. 
"Can't wait to start my new life as an official, real ass person by marrying you. Seems fitting. You are stuck with me forever now."
Carro
> You lean in and touch your forehead to his, staring deep into those beautiful fuckin robo eyes. 
"There's nobody I'd rather be stuck with."
Coco
"That's fucking gay, dude." 
> And you love it, so much. Your hands cup his face, itching to be as  close as possible. 
 "Not gay if it's with a robot, right?"
Carro
> You smile somewhat bashfully at Hal and you shrug lightly. 
"...Might still be pretty gay, even with a robot."
Coco
> Oh wow. Is that what it takes to make Dirk Strider finally fucking realize he is indeed, fucking gay? Just a little gay marriage, huh? You said you wouldn't push it though, so you don't. 
"Glad I get to be your gay robot exception, dude. Couldn't be happier."
Carro
> You're glad he doesn't push it; you're still gonna be struggling with that one for a while, but... But this? This is good.  Great, even. Perfect, actually. 
> You kiss him again, and don't let up for a long time, before murmuring, 
"Gotta get dressed and get going, I guess.  Gonna go pick up Sock along the way.  Is Dave... here? We gonna have to pick him up too?"
Coco
> You could spend another few hours kissing him, but you will have plenty of time for that after he becomes your husband. What a weird thought that is. Has you smiling all over again. Seems like your face is stuck like that for now. 
"Shit, I don't have any formal clothes dude. How embarrassing is that?" 
> Not that you really give a flying fuck over getting married in your usual clothes. 
"Yeah, here's hoping he'll be ready in under an hour."
Carro
"Haha, I don't think I've got my good shit out and ready... You can, uh... borrow some of mine, if you want, though? I mean, shit, you could just go naked and I'd be happy." 
> You, though, are already stripping off your BIG MILK t-shirt and looking for a clean, half-decent button-up. 
"He better be.  We got twenty minutes before Sock's ready to pick up."
Coco
"You think all of Derse is ready for my beautiful bod, though?"
That's really the main reason you even bother with clothes at all when you leave the house. Looking at least a bit more normal. Not that you exactly care for anyone's opinion, just makes shit easier. 
"Sure, that's romantic right? Boyfriend style is in yeah? Or husband in this case."
Carro
A shudder runs visible through you and your turn a grin back at Hal. 
"Say that again."
Coco
"Nu uh. Not yet, my dude. Gotta earn the H word first."
Carro
"Awww, c'mon." 
You laugh and then you rummage through your closet until you find a dark red button up for Hal, with silvery white pinstripes. 
"Just once."
Coco
> Aw it's your color. He does care. That earns him a quick peck on the lips. 
"Fine. You are my motherfucking husbando, Dirk. Better than any fucking anime guy, even Android 17."
Carro
"Shit goddamn.  Even Android 17, for real?  I must be special." 
> You wink and then toss on an orange shit and a black jacket and slacks, before fishing out a matching pair for Hal. 
"Does that also make you the husbando? Or is one of us the waifu?"
Coco
"I mean, i ain't giving up on my figures of him for you, but yeah. I'm choosing you over my anime boyfriend." 
> That's love bitch. 
 > This is actually yet another first for you, first time putting on a suit. That shit's not rocket science though. 
 "A family can be two husbandos and their two baby brothers, who are also dating. Y'know. That sounds exactly like an anime plot actually." 
> Thank god that you are not living in an anime, or this shit would be way weird.
Carro
> Jokes on you, life is the ultimate anime. 
> But you laugh and you get yourself sorted out, throwing a white tie around your neck but not quite tying it yet.  You turn to Hal and look to see if he needs any help...but mostly? You're just staring at him, in awe and full of warm, gay, fuzzy-ass dokis. 
"Guess you've got a point there.  Life with the Striders is my favorite fuckin anime this season."
Coco
> You have never tied a tie in your life, but you tie his like you've never done anything else in your life. You are a quick learner after all. 
 "Yeah same..Hey babe?" 
> There's never been as good of a moment to get gay. You continue your song from earlier, just for him. 
"We will go tandem as man and husbando
Daisy, Daisy 
Peddling our way down the road of life 
I and my daisy bell 
When the roads dark we can both despise 
Policemen and the lamps as well 
There are bright lights in those dazzling eyes 
Of beautiful daisy bell" 
> Naturally a song from 1892 did not in fact include the word husbando, but sometimes you just gotta get creative.(edited)
Carro
> Ohhhhh, Hal, you fucker, you've done it now. 
> There are actual, real tears running down your face, and you're stuck halfway between mopping them up, and just covering your face, and you really can't decide what to do with your hands, so you instead place them on Hal's hips instead of anywhere near the vicinity of you.  You're laughing, and you lean in to kiss him again. 
> If you could, you'd never stop kissing him. 
> Also you can't believe a song from 1892 is your song, but hey you wouldn't have it any other way.  Except maybe a hip-hop cover of the song, down the road. 
"I love you."
Coco
"Love you too, Daisy Bell." 
> You gladly kiss him again as you gently wipe some of those tears again. God, look at the two of you, getting all sorts of gay in fucking record time. You both really needed this for a long ass time, didn't you? 
> You are far too happy to ruin this by psychoanalyzing everything about it, not in this very moment at least.
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thebustedandtheblue · 6 years ago
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The Busted ch 3
Chapter 1| Chapter 2 | Chapter 3
Neither Stakar nor Yondu was sure if she was even tasting what she was shoving into her mouth but they didn’t say anything about it. N’Zar was on her third bowl of wet brown lumps that might’ve been soup at one point, but had given up the culinary ghost and congealed into amorphous slop that once had been meat or maybe potato. She didn’t care what it was. It was food and it was the best damned meal she had in what felt like a lifetime. The three of them were sitting in the mess, devoid of other Ravagers, whom all were not so silently watching from the doorway, Aleta at the door.
“Guess Aleta was right. She’s a skrull.”
“So she’s not a spy then?”
“I guess not. Looks like she picked the wrong ship.” “Heard she banged up the Dallos pretty bad.”
“Are you sure she’s not from the empire?”
“Y’know she’d be kinda cute if she tried.”
N’Zar turned to the group. She waved at the men and they waved back. She gave a big smile and they did so in return. Her eyes rolled back and her head lolled around her neck. Her jaw went slack and her mouth split farther open than should be possible, with an eruption of tentacles spewing from her mouth and ears. The men jumped back, save for Aleta, whom let out a long horsey cackle at the terrified crew. N’Zar returned to her usual skrull self and back to the bowl of brown with a satisfied grin on her face. Neither Stakar nor Yondu were amused.
“Nice crew. So when do I get one of those uniforms y’guys wear?” She asked, shaking a gravy-covered spoon at the two.
“Maybe when you pay everything off. We’ll give you some new clothes in the meantime.” Stakar said, eyeing the holes and stains in her shirt.
“I’m not going to have to like, do some initiation thing am I?”
The two men looked at each other. She wasn’t paying them any mind, instead focusing the bulk of her attention to scraping out as much of the thick broth as she could. She didn’t notice either of their subtle grins.
“As a matter of fact, you do.” Stakar said, leaning in to the table to emphasize the gravity of the statement.
N’Zar stopped mid-mastication. She stared at the stone-faced captain with pleading eyes, but he remained unmoving and unforgiving. It wasn’t until she noticed the crack in Yondu’s facade that she realized he was fucking with her.
She frowned and wiped gravy from her face. “That’s not funny.” “Yes it is” Yondu sneered. “Shit girl, you’d probably think gullible was written on the ceiling if we said it was”
N’Zar fought the urge to look up by returning to cramming lumps of meat or potato in her face.
“So what am I gonna do here?” She asked on her last nerve of the night.
“We are, but you just got here. You’re not going on any missions yet. You’ll be working in there.” Stakar motioned to the galley. “And in the lower decks. Cleaning.”
N’Zar set down her spoon in her bowl. “I’m a maid? Seriously? What about shadowing Yolanda?” She motioned towards Yondu.
“Yondu.” He said.
“You will be shadowing him. He’ll be down here too. For now.”
“I-What!? Why?”
“Because you’re the reason she’s on this ship. You still fucked up, Yondu, so you get two are going to get to know each other a bit better.”
Yondu and N’zar looked at each other with venom in their eyes.
“Yes, sir.” they both said.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me I have a ship to run.” Stakar stook from the table, heading towards the hall. “Wait, where am I sleeping? Don’t i get new clothes? Can i at least get more to eat?!”
“Bunks are on the fourth deck. There’s usually leftover clothes up there. No guarantee they’ll be clean but they’ll probably have less holes. Yondu can show you around for the rest. I’m heading back to my quarters i’m done with this headache for a few hours.”
And with that, Captain Stakar made his leave and back to his quarters. He sat down at his desk. The Skrull empire was very far from Knowhere. And the amount of debt she wracked up sounded like trafficking, and she looked like she’d been out there for a while. But thirty thousand units was ten times the rate. Whatever she did, she needed to escape, and she needed to disappear. Stakar opened a private channel of communication.
“Mainframe.” “Yes captain?” “Can you do a background check for me on the new kid? I want to see if she’s got a bounty on her head. Her name’s N’Zar N’Zenne.” “Gimme a sec....It doesn’t look like she does. Or at least there aren’t any skrull with that name.”
“Did you check the imperial databases?”
“I’ve been trying but it’s going to take a while to get through to the Skrull’s firewalls.”
“You do that. Wake me up if something pops up.” Stakar walked towards his bed, Aleta was there waiting patiently.
“You suspect her.” She stated.
“You don’t?” He asked, stripping down to his skivvies and climbing into the small bed they shared.
“I do, but I doubt she’s dangerous. Just not very bright.” She rolled on to her husband. “She’ll get along fine with everyone if Yondu doesn’t kill her first.”
A pensive ‘hmm’ rumbled in his chest.  
“She made me laugh.” she added. “Scared the stones right off Marty.”
Of course I’m stuck with this little green witch, Yondu thought. He was still in the mess hall with his new ward. She was sitting there now on her fifth bowl. Her eyes flashed at him for a second before focusing on the last scraps of food. Once Stakar had left interest in the new member of the crew had waned, and the other men dispersed to do their jobs, or to sleep.
“I can’t believe you ate all that.” He said.
“Shifting takes a lot of energy,.” she replied, sucking the last of the gravy off her lips. “And yer a pretty big shift, darling.”
“Stop calling me darling. It’s Yondu. Udonta”.
“All right, all right. I didn’t mean anything by it, d...Udonta.” N’Zar stood and walked towards the galley, bringing the bowl with her. Yondu had followed suit. To his relief it wasn’t to go in for a sixth bowl but to rinse it out in the already full sink.
“No dishwasher?” She asked.
“It’s busted. We put too many in there one night and never got around to fixing it.” He stated.
Her nose scrunched at the sight, and the thought that this was her job for the foreseeable future. It can wait until morning.
Yondu walked out of the mess hall with his new green shadow trailing behind him. Her mocking nature was gone as the two made their way through the decks and into the main crew’s sleeping quarters. Near everyone was asleep, and those who weren’t looked at her. Some with curiosity, most with contempt. Each had their own bunk in the hall. She could see in the low light each little nook was decorated how the men who slept there saw fit. Some posters, little decals, many had dimmed holographs of scantily clothed aliens, gyrating or. Her custodian stopped in front of one, in the back and the top most of the column of three, devoid of neighboring bunkmates. Little trinkets littered the small shelf next to the cot.
“Is this one taken?” N’Zar asked, placing her hand on the bed underneath his.
Yondu had taken off his leather duster, and began unbuckling the holster for his arrow. “Take it.” he said, unbuttoning the shirt he wore underneath.
She sat down in the bunk and the two disrobed in silence. She glanced at him briefly while his back was turned. He wasn’t terrible to look at now that she had the chance. He was young but already riddled with scars. Two stood out to her. They were old and deep. One was the long, jagged line that ran from the back of his implant to the base of his spine. The other was a dark and permanent bruise around his neck. He undoubtedly had similar ones across his wrists. The remnants of another life, one of blood and bondage.
“Do you see something you like?” a hoarse and deadpan whisper asked her. She hastily went back to untying her disintegrating shoes as if nothing had happened but the deep emerald rising on her cheeks betrayed her. She didn’t even bother taking off her clothes before sliding under the covers.  Yondu chuffed, satisfied with embarrassing the little green witch.
She laid there, hearing the loud snores of her new shipmates and staring up at the cot above her. She swore she could make out the contour of his back through the thin mattress. Damn him. Damn him for being so easy on the eyes. No. don’t think that. No matter how starved for affection she was, she was the most bottom rung on the ladder. She would not touch him. Her aim was on other things. On the cold unyielding units she so desperately needed. She reached up to the groan in the cot above her, her touch she hoped was feather-light. She closed her eyes in silent prayer.
Sl’gur’t thank you for sending me a fool in a scoundrel’s leathers.
As a matter of fate, down came said scoundrel’s arm. Startled at first. But noticing the familiar twitch of a nightmare in his hand.  N’Zar lifted her own, in experiment, barely touching him, her fingernails grazing his skin. His hand went slack at her touch. She brushed her thumb against his knuckles and fought the urge to cool and hush hin and frighten away the terrors that beguiled his mind. Once he calmed her hand retracted back to her own body. It wasn’t her business to keep company to those who couldn’t sleep, as long as she could eventually find peace of her own.
N’zar rolled to her side, into the bunk and screwed her eyes shut the best she could. This is what she was brought to, this is what she would endure.
At least he was easy on the eyes.
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tinyfierce · 7 years ago
Note
"Honestly, just stop it," for Evfra/Ryder. Or "We really need better people," for Jaal/Ryder. Thank you for all the ficlets, they are really awesome!
[Prompts from thispost. Still open!]
(Glad you’re enjoying these!
The first timeGil was on extended shore leave, the rest of the Tempest crew tookadvantage of his absence to have Poker Night on something resemblinga level playing field. Vetra, the only experienced bartender onboard, ran the whole thing like they were in a seedy off-strip bar onOmega -
-complete withabsolutely terrible alcohol.
“Addsto the ambience,” she said, and Drack let out a booming laugh.
“Damnright,” he said. “If your cup’s clean, you’re not on Omega.”
“Whatis Omega,” Jaal asked as his glass was refilled, “and why is itterrible?”
“Oh,let me.” Liam raked in the chips and started sorting them back intothe holding rack. “So, picture Kadara, except a tenth the size withtwice the people. Every type of crime you can imagine, and some youcan’t. No government and no rules.”
“Itwas great,” Drackinsisted.
“Itwas a pit,” Cora corrected him, “and the source of a lot ofproblems. Drugs, weapons, bribes, you name it – it could all betraced back there at some point.”
“Hadthe best strippers, though.”
“Drack.”
Rydersnickered as she listened to the banter around the table. They sorarely got to relax like this together, especially so informally. Thesmack talk that had been encouraged over the game – Cora cleanedthem all out, naturally – had made Liam practically vibratewith happiness. They were just coming off of a big win, too, havingKadara back in (at least for appearances’ sake) Angaran hands. Theywere salty, they were drunk, and they were bonding.
“We’vestill got hours in the night and a lotmore booze,” Peebee pointed out from her seat. Though the game wasover, no one had left the table. “And I’m not leavingempty-handed.”
“Iturn this over to our social coordinator,” Ryder said, sippingsomething god-awful with a curl of some mystery fruit wedged on therim. “Liam?”
Hethought a moment, flipping a poker chip between a few fingers.Suddenly, his eyes lit up, and he palmed it on the table. “Got it.‘Never have I ever,’ no limits.”
Theother humans at the table groaned, but Peebee leaned in. “Ooh, youhad me at ‘no limits.’ Rules?”
“Itgoes like this,” he explained, pulling the lowest-level chips outfrom their bay. “We go round in a circle, each person making a‘never have I ever’ statement, anywhere from 'never have I everbroken a bone’ to 'never have I ever had sex in zero-g.'”
Peebeetook a drink. “Oh, I am gonna lose this game.”
“Ifyou match,” he continued, “you’re safe. But if you have done it,you take a chip. Person with the least at the end wins.”
“Sowhat are the stakes?” Drack pulled over a bottle with scribbledKrogan writing on it and popped the cap.
Amoment of silence passed before a suitable prize occurred to Ryder.
“Ihave a photo of Director Tann faceplanting on his office stairs,”she said. “I framed it. Win and it’s yours.”
Judgingfrom the enthusiastic reactions thatgot, things were about to get fun. As everyone got up for last-minuterefills, Jaal leaned over.
“Areyou sure, taoshay? Youlove that picture.”
Rydersmiled over the rim of her glass. “SAM was taking video. I canreplay it in my visor whenever I feel down.”
Hechuckled and squeezed her thigh affectionately, straightening as theothers began to return. When the last butt was in the last seat, thegame was on.
“I’llstart,” Liam said, clearing his throat. “Never have I ever…tried Ryncol.”
Halfof the hands around the table went up, though no one was surprised.Drack, Vetra, Peebee, and Ryder all took chips.
“Iwas a bartender,” Vetra said. “What’s your excuse, Ryder?”
“Mybrother dared me,” she offered, and Drack snorted.
“Therest of you idiots don’t know what you’re missing.”
Liam folded hisarms. “Your liver, your baddecisions. You’re up, Drack.”
“Right,”he rumbled. “Never have I ever gotten my hand stuck in a vendingmachine trying to steal a copy of Fornax.”
Everyonelaughed as Peebee was the only one to take a chip, angrily snatchingit from the center of the table. “Damnit, Drack! I told you thatstory in confidence.”
Coraleaned back. “Oh, I want to hear this.”
“Iwas young and curious!”
“Howold were you,” Jaal asked, and Peebee looked sheepish.
“Fifty?”
“Speaking ofyoung and stupid,” Vetra interrupted, “never have I ever punchedmy sibling in the junk.”
Ryder, Jaal, andDrack all raised their hands, the latter most enthusiastically ofall.
“Par for thecourse,” he declared. “You only really need three balls, anyway.”
Jaal took his chip,chuckling at what clearly was a fond memory. “Does it still countif it was an accident?”
“Depends,”Vetra said. “Was it actually an accident?”
Jaal smirked. “No.But that was what I told our mothers.”
“That’s going inmy next e-mail to your mom,” Ryder threatened, and Jaal cleared histhroat as he pointedly tapped the chip she had alsotaken that round.
“Ibelieve it is my turn,” he said, leaning his elbows on the table.“Very well. Never have I ever… run about naked after drinking.”
Peebeelet loose a string of colorful swears as she took yet another chip,joined by both Liam and Drack.
“Tooktwo dozen C-sec officers to take me down,” Drack boasted. “Hellof a Monday.”
Liamlaughed. “Wish I’d been there. My bit’s boring – got overheatedand didn’t think I needed clothes, I guess. Even went for a swimin the Academy fountain and started a tradition.”
“Wereally need better people on the Tempest,” Ryder muttered into herdrink with a smile, and her second-in-command apparently agreed.
“I am institutingan at-least-pants rule on the ship, with the Pathfinder’spermission,” Cora announced, and Ryder toasted her assent, much tothe chagrin of the other players.
“Aw, don’t besuch a wet blanket.” Peebee pointed to Cora’s nonexistent pile.“Either you’re hiding something, or you are the most boringperson-who-decided-to-jump-into-deep-space ever.”
Cora said nothing,only smiled and drank, earning her a frustrated groan from the Asari.
“I told youI would lose. All right, who’s next?”
“I’m up. Neverhave I ever…” Ryder considered her statement, given theincreasingly risque turn they had each been taking. “Never have Iever had sex with someone of the same gender.”
Jaal, Vetra, andPeebee all took chips, prompting some murmurs around the table.
Vetra studied theAngara through her visor, mandibles flaring in amusement.“Interesting, Jaal.”
“Imake no effort to hide it.” Smirking, he seemed almost boastful ashe crossed his arms. “You’ve met my former commander, and have seenfor yourself how attractive he is.”
“Seriously,”Liam managed, “you’re telling me that you slept with yourC.O.? While still in the ranks?”
“Givesa whole new meaning to 'serving under’ someone,” Peebee joked, andJaal tilted his head.
“Youassume too much about the roles in our relationship,” he countered,and Liam choked on his drink.
“Jaal,”he coughed, “have I told you lately that I love you?”
Jaalrumbled a laugh. “I love you too, Liam.”“Don’tsee what the issue is,” Drack said, pouring himself another.“Krogan do it all the time. Fighting’s a hell of an aphrodisiac.That, and blood.”
“Was with you upuntil that last part,” Peebee said. “Going to have to callbullshit on Cora, though.”
Cora frowned.“What? I didn’t take one.”
“I know!”Peebee leaned over the table, practically crawling over the stack ofchips in the middle. “And I’m calling. You. Out.”
“All that time inclose with the Asari commandos,” Liam added, “and you never?”
“No.”
“Noteven once. Trapped in a cave or a safehouse, alone -”
“No,Liam.”
Vetragestured with the hand holding a glass. “And your hair.”
“Ohmy god,” Cora said, exasperated. “A Turiandoes not get to lecture me on my undercut.”
“Andif we’re all female, technically Asari are genderless, so…” Peebeeshrugged innocently. “She could technically still notbe lying.”
“That’s it, I’mending this right now.” Cora set her drink down and pointed to thechips. “Never have I ever slept with anyone outside my own race.”
This time, it wasPeebee, Vetra, Ryder, and Jaal who took chips.
“All right,fair,” Peebee muttered.
“Dated a Drellfor six months,” Vetra said, brandishing her chip. “Beats anyhigh on the market.”
That garnered someprobing discussion, cut short when Peebee took count.
“Wait,” shesaid, frowning. “Jaal, I thought that aside from the Kett, we werethe first outsiders to Heleus.”
Ryder tensed, andshe saw him do the same.
“You were,” hesaid plainly.
All eyes turned tohim, except for Cora - who nonchalantly sipped her drink and shotRyder a meaningful sideways glance.
Well?their silence asked, and Ryder could see Jaal hesitate.
Fuckit, she thought as she finished her drink and set it down on thetable. She raised her empty hand, waving it to catch their attentionand rescue her lover.
“Pathfinder,reporting for duty.”
Corasmiled, and Ryder felt Jaal’s hand seek hers under the table.
Silence,then an explosion.
“Holyshit, since when -”
“Iknew it! Ha! I told you, I knew somethingwas going on -”
“Spirits, just tell me not on the common room couch-”
“Heh.Must be nice to be young.”
“Whomade the first move, then?”
“Well,he was already okay with sleeping with his commander, so -”
“Thisis legitimately historical and important-”
“Andnot in our showers, right?”
“Whoelse knows?”
Despitethe feeling of an onslaught, Ryder could see that Jaal was as pleasedby the attention as he was embarrassed, attempting to answer whateverquestions he could. For her part, the Pathfinder was surprised tofind herself rather nonplussed by the entire thing, almost relievedthat there was no need for some sort of grand announcement. She’d hadnightmares about the latter. But here, over drinking games and pokerand good-natured barbs, it felt as right as it was going to get.
“Details,Ryder,” Peebee pleaded from her left, and Ryder snickered.
“Oneword,” she said, pausing for dramatic effect. “Bioelectricity.”
Thatearned her some laughs, Peebee dragging her palms down her face.
“Ryder,I am literally so jealous of you right now that I could die.”
“Youcan’t die yet – it’s your turn.”
“Oh,shit. Right. Ahem.” She straightened, folding her hands neatly infront of her. “Never have I ever… seen a Blasto vid.”
Acollective gasp came up from the rest of the table, and she backedaway defensively. “What? They’re total trash.”
“You’rewrong,” Vetra toldher, and Liam stood up from his seat.
“Youneed to be educated,” he said, “and I have Blasto One througheight on my drive, including the holiday special.”
“Noo,”Peebee whined, but it was too late. Bottles were grabbed, arms weretaken prisoner, and the group was on the move to the bridge to hijackthe projector. Jaal hung back, waiting for Ryder to join him.
“I…”he began as they walked. “Was that… all right?”
“Yeah.It’s good.”
Hesmiled, lifting his arm to invite her beneath it. She accepted,draping her arm lazily about his waist.
“Iwas surprised,” he admitted. “You prefer to… discuss suchthings, and we never had the chance.”
“True.”She laughed. “I don’t know if it’s because I’m that drunk or I loveyou that much, but it worked out.”
Atthe word 'love,’ the hand on her shoulder squeezed warmly. He alwaysreacted when she said it aloud.
“So,”he prompted. “What is a Blasto?”
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it-is-reigning-men · 7 years ago
Text
Most of the Time [Jeff Hardy x Reader]
Request for Anon: Where you live in North Carolina for just the summer and one day this guy comes sputtering through on his motorbike because he ran out of gas in your front yard. You help him out and get to know him and then he disappears until some days later he comes back and asks you for a ride. (This is when he was younger btw!)
A/N: For once this isn’t smut!! wow !! I hope y’all still enjoy my fluffy stuff. Plus a teeny bit of angst. I actually really enjoyed writing this out, though I took a lot of breaks because certain parts got rocky.
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of drugs/rehab
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You needed the time alone.
It was weird to think that, when you were always complaining about the feeling.
That didn't change the fact you just needed to find something - god knows what - without any therapists or disappointed mother or fake friends to go giving you their "ancient wisdom."
After a lot of the usual yelling and door slamming, you'd managed to convince your mom (or really, your dad to talk to your mom) to let you have the old summer home in North Carolina. Maybe the thing that got her to let up and not force you along with them on vacation was that she thought the old house would get you to recall just how angelic you used to be. Or maybe she was just tired.
Whatever the reason, you didn't blame her. You were tired too.
...
The house wasn't huge, but it wasn't no 300 square feet; it was cozy as you remembered it, and honestly, what made it so comforting was having it all to yourself. You plopped down on the couch, curling into a blanket before switching the TV on. It only had the basic cable channels, but you weren't really watching it anyway... the dull noise helped you relax.
Days went on languidly, and it wasn't long before boredom set in. Contented boredom, but boredom nonetheless.
During the last week of your first month there, you emerged from the house and sat on the porch, eyes running over the grass of the front yard. It was hardly a yard, with long, dry pieces of grass sprinkled about.
You went around back to see if the lawnmower was still there. Indeed it was.
"Could use some... cardio, I guess."
Wheeling the thing out front, you managed to flatten out a good 2/3 of the yard before the damn motor died out; you were frustrated enough from spending at least ten minutes trying to get the thing running, so you left it outside.
Dragging your feet all the way back indoors, you splashed your face in the bathroom sink, before peeking into the mirror's medicine cabinet for some painkillers.
Okay.
So you weren't surprised the bottles you found were extremely expired, but you were more upset that you'd dived for medications even though your head was just barely throbbing. Maybe it wasn't even throbbing at all.
Weak.
You sighed, swiping all the contents of the cabinet into the trash can and tying the trash bag with a knot so you could dispose of it completely.
When you got to the porch again, chucking the small bag of garbage into the pickup bin, your ears picked up on something odd. A sort of sputtering, and it was getting closer.
The sputtering turned into an audible 'fuck.'
Well, maybe that was just the guy.
Staring blankly, you leaned against the porch fence as a young man rolled right into your yard from god knows where. The house was off of any main roads, but nearby a few forest trails, but nobody had ever bothered you till now.
He didn't even notice you as his motorbike's dirty wheels skidded onto your partially trimmed grass- just kept cursing to himself as he kicked the side of the vehicle.
"Great day, yeah?" You called, watching him dismount and snap his head up to look your way.
"The.. the damn greatest," he called back breathily, unclipping the strap of his helmet as he stepped to the middle of the grass.
"You just gonna stand there?" You taunted.
The man stripped off the helmet, finally, and tucked it under his arm, brows furrowed with a few drops of sweat rolling down his temple. His platinum blond and... blue streaked hair was pressed down, but after running a hand through it and giving it a pull there and a head shake here, it fluffed up a bit.
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"Well, can't exactly ride off into oblivion like I intended now." He flickered his eyes fiercely back at his bike. "Ran outta gas."
You figured.
And you decided you liked his hair.
"And here I was thinking you were my shitty Fairy God Mother coming to pay me a visit," you drawled, rolling your eyes and trotting down your porch steps. He chuckled and started to raise his hand as if to get a proper greeting, but you walked right past him toward his bike.
"Nice to make your acquaintance," he huffed, not really offended.
"Opposite of likewise to you, peacock. You ran over my gorgeous lawn." You peered over the bike at the gauge, just to make sure it really was running on empty and this guy wasn't just some psycho trying to get into the house. Not that doing this was any safer, but hey, you had little to lose.
The man pivoted around to look at the 'gorgeous lawn,' and couldn't help the face he made.
"What, not pretty enough for you?" You reiterated, but the amused smirk he tossed you said he knew you were kidding.
"So, do ya think I could ask for some help?"
"Depends what kind."
You locked eyes, tiny smiles melting over your faces. You didn't always get along with people right away, and you'd been on and on about wanting privacy... but at least this interaction wasn't between you and a couch.
"Whatever you're offerin'," he blew a strand of hair from his eye. "But maybe some gas would be nice. At least enough to get back into town?"
"Or you could just walk and I could keep your bike."
He paused.
You laughed.
"Kidding. Lucky I got some extra gasoline in the shed," You walked right past him again and he turned your way. Just as your foot touched the porch steps you stopped again.
"...One sec," You felt a bit dumb going back and forth but something occurred to you just before you wasted your time.
Kneeling by the dirt bike again, you inspected the wheels closely.
Shoot.
"Damn." You sighed.
The man walked up, leaning over next to your squatted form to see.
"What? Oh," He narrowed his eyes. "Shit."
There was a small, jagged rock lodged in the back wheel, the air seeping out every passing moment. At this point the wheel looked a little flatter than it's twin.
"I guess I gotta drive you into town then, sir." Your tone stayed bland, but honestly you didn't mind the mini mission. Shit happens to everyone, after all.
"You don't mind?" He was genuinely surprised.
"Not like I have anything else to do. I'm out here all alone."
You made eye contact again, leaning briefly against his bike.
"I guess I shouldn't have said that. I don't know you. You could be a creep." But you didn't get that impression. And even so. You did take self defense classes a year or so ago, and he wasn't a huge or very bulky guy.
The blond rolled his eyes, chuckling.
"I don't know if it helps any if I promise you I'm not."
"Not really, but it reminds me that I should check you for weapons."
He cocked his head, the twitch on his lips suggesting he wanted to smile.
"Seriously?"
You nodded, stepping up to him, grasping he was just barely taller than you.
"You gonna pat me down or ya expectin' me to strip?"
You brazenly flickered your eyes down his form, fully realizing it would be rather hard for him to hide anything in his clothing; his top was as skin tight as an active wear-long sleeve could be and the pants were more typical biking pants that were a tad puffy with padding and pockets. Plus, you weren't actually that paranoid and you'd been stabbed once before.
Long story.
But anyway.
He lifted his arms along with his eyebrows, expectantly.
"I don't mind. I just wanna fix my bike so I don't have to bother a nice lady anymore."
You smirked, but kept your hands on your hips.
"Pretty sure our short encounter has been enough for you to grasp I'm not a typical 'nice lady,'"
Shifting your eyes down at him once more, you cheekily patted his elbows to get his arms to lower.
"But unless that lump in your pants is a gun, I think you're safe enough for a ride into civilization."
He knitted his brows before checking himself in a fluster.
"- Made ya look." You poked, leaving him bewildered as you jogged in the house to snatch your keys before meeting him at the side of your car.
"You sure got a sense of humor," He lulled, sliding into the passenger seat.
The car stuttered to life, and you hooked your arm over the back of his seat to twist your body around to back out into the pathway and get going.
"Thanks," Only when you were turning to get onto the dirt trail did you register you still hadn't gotten the guy's name. Now that was funny.
"I got a few questions for you, lucky man." You stayed with the improvised nicknames, yet.  
"Shoot." He leaned back into the seat, eyes wandering past the dash onto the road ahead.
"You know the type of wheels you need?"
"Yeah, o'course."
"You have money to pay for it?"
He flashed you a look. "Yes. I wouldn't ask that much of ya."
You pursed your lips, keeping eyes trained forward as you maneuvered around the trails and the small residences that went toward the main town.
"...and your name?" You finally asked, like it wasn't oddly placed in priorities here.
His green irises sparked with bashfulness and he snorted. Looked like he had forgotten about the formality as well.
"Jeff." After smiling at your side profile, he continued. "Hardy."
You tossed the name around mentally a few times before locking it in the vault.
"That's your full name?"
"It's Jeffery Nero Hardy, if you must know."
Well you didn't have a must, but Jesus, that was a name. Cooler than your's, unfortunately.
"Cool." Is all you said.
He gave you a minute of silence before nudging your response with a hum.
"Oh!" You acted embarrassed, making another turn. "It's Y/F/N. I didn't pick it."
"Ya make it seem like it's a bad name," Jeff propped his cheek onto his hand, leaning into his door's armrest. "It's not."
Though the casual compliment was welcome, though unasked for, you felt a tingle in your chest at the smirk playing at his lips. You noticed it in the reflection.
The fact was, town— or at least the auto shop you were headed towards— was still at least twenty minutes away, so there was time to burn and for some reason you wanted to keep talking to this Hardy guy. By all accounts you loved indulging in peaceful quiet, but it was like you couldn't help it. The guy, who literally rolled into your world, pulled you away from the alone time you begged for and you didn't even mind.
Maybe you had taken those expired meds without realizing it.
Ugh.
No, you didn't, but this feeling reminded you too much of the cheesy-as-all-hell story one of the girls from group therapy had divulged about the fling that saved her life. This was not going to be a fling. And you weren't in any dark place that you craved stopping your life short. And you weren't interested in him.
You were stopping right now, though, because of the stop light.
"So, Y/N," Jeff abruptly crashed through the silence, eyes continuously (perhaps unintentionally) glancing at you. "Why're you livin' up the hillside all alone for, anyhow?"
Apparently he believed he earned himself some questions because you'd asked him some. He didn't, but you weren't enough of a bitch to ignore him.
"Not living up there. Just staying. It's actually just a Summer home."
Jeff nodded once, "That's nice."
You coughed into the crook of your elbow, clearing your throat.
"I just needed time to clear my head and... be independent. People were always in my ear or on my case back where I was coming from." You wrinkled your nose, recalling all the times before recent you had wanted to run from it all and be free to mess yourself up if you wanted. Granted, you were grateful to be how you were now, but that would never change how it happened.
"I hear that. I was so caught up gettin' distance between me and my problems that my bike ran outta gas."
"Kudos for carelessness and being a loner," You held out one hand for a fist bump. "Cause me too."
He bumped it eagerly, shifting in his place. "I guess we're just similar souls, then."
"Hah. Yeah. Since I'll... probably never see you again after our little adventure, I guess it wouldn't hurt to share a bit. It's not often I get to have conversations with complete strangers who don't already have an opinion of me." You said, not quite sure of the decision.
Jeff's attention dialed in on your voice, completely willing to listen you speak all day. He felt largely the same magnetism toward you, even if the acquaintance had only been around an hour long.
It took half of a song on the radio for you to fully gather your thoughts to deliver a short version of your life story, but you did it.
"So... I'm only just getting into my twenties, right,"
Jeff made a mental note that you were both in the same age range.
"But I've gotten into some bad shit. My own fault, really, but not so much my decision to get stuck with it. Drugs'll do that to a naive body. Any... body, actually."
Jeff's head perked up, although his gaze went down to his hands again, something stirring. No wonder something felt familiar.
"I just got cleared from rehab, thank the Gods for getting me out of that place, too white and clean and perfect. But at least I'm better than I was— sober and all. But my family sure ain't treating me any different." Your grip on the wheel tightened, and you hated that the back of your eyes felt warm; you shook off the feeling and stayed alert.
"You ever get a feeling like that?"
Jeff knew he had, but he asked. "Like what?"
"Like you're alone even when you're surrounded by people? Whether they love you or hate you, doesn't matter, it's just you."  
Jeff was sure there wasn't ever a statement that resonated with him so purely - but you'd said it like it was right from his own brain.
"Too often. Most of the time I kinda wish I had someone who got me," He sorta half smiled, seeing your eyes in the rear view mirror. The sadness in them made him feel terrible, like he knew you. "And it's kinda scary how alike we are. 'Cept I ain't totally clean just yet..."
You braked harder than was necessary when you reached the last light before you'd be at the shop.
"Still fightin' my demons. And stubborn enough to want to do it without any pro help. I like being in control of my own self." He breathed in one strained breath, daring to look up at your curious face.
"At least you're trying it. The only reason I'm around is cause my parents forced me into the help."
"At least you're better. Forced or not."
"I wish I had your self-determination. Maybe then I'd have gotten here myself and not have to feel like shit and get shit on by my folks."
"Sometimes ya need somebody to get on your case. God. Self-determination... more like self-sabotage." It was like he was just now wondering why he was running in the first place. He missed his family, but when your body's got unhealthy chemicals stirred in he supposed one didn't make great choices. "I'm just a stubborn ass." And that too.
For some reason you both hacked out a laugh.
"You did end up broken down on my lawn because you were too much of an ass to stop for gas, that's all I know."
He came out of the slump and cracked a grin at your blunt remark.
"If ya can even call that a lawn."
Finally you rolled into the minuscule parking lot of the auto shop, and you turned off the car.
"Oh, sorry, didn't know you had high lawn standards." You playfully rolled your eyes, popping open your door.
"I do. You should see my place sometime." He got out.
"Don't think I know you well enough for that." You chuckled, swinging your keys on your finger as you walked up to the open garage.
"I'm actually a pretty skilled with the lawn mower." Like that was something that sounded cool; when he said it all confident you were almost convinced it was.
"I'll believe it when I see it. Maybe if you're so enthusiastic you could repay me by finishing up my grass, then."
You weren't serious but he was nodding at you while you two browsed the tire selection. At one point one of the workers asked if you needed any help, but Jeff was already tapping his desired tire obnoxiously loud.
"This is the one. Go ahead and keep the change." Jeff was fetching his wallet from one of his side pants pockets, handing over (hopefully not too much over) the correct amount of cash to the worker without so much as looking up at him. The worker counted the money to be sure he wasn't being under paid but made to help Jeff out as soon as he put the money in the register and correctly rung up the tire.
"I'll bring it out to your car, si—" The man went over to the item, only to have Jeff hold up a hand and grab it himself. Not like it was a car tire or nothing, but it wasn't the lightest thing on earth.
"Have a good one." Jeff called, walking toward where you were leaning by the door, simply observing.
"You don't slow down, do you." You rose your brows, opening the door for him to get back outside.
"Nah. Probably why-"
"You broke down on my nasty lawn, yeah yeah." You shook your head and sat back in your car seat, looking back at him through the window as he put the tire into the bed of the trunk. It'd be fine till the house.
"You say I don't slow down, but I don' think I ever met a girl with as sharp a tongue as you, Y/N." He returned to his passenger seat, rubbing his hands together.
"I think that was a compliment." You readjusted your mirror, corners of your lips curling up. "Thanks, peacock."
...
It was the same time getting back to the house, and the conversations were far less angst-ridden. It was the kind of conversations people try to have with their family's during road trips, with the stupid eye spies and the jokes and then the comfortable silence.
You still didn't understand why it was that way. Why you were more in tune with this random guy than you'd been with anyone 'close' to you in your life... at least in the last two or three years.
It was refreshing.
But sadly? Short-lived. Figures it would be too good for you, huh?
You helped Jeff get the wrecked tire off and replaced then filled up his tank with the extra fuel you had, since you weren't in need of it yourself. For once your apocalyptic preparation paid off. After that there really wasn't any reason for him to stay.
"Well ah..." Jeff trailed off, wetting his lips briefly and getting shy suddenly. It was cute.
Geez. Now you felt like blushing. Stop.
He sorted his thoughts and swung his legs over his bike, hands planing on his thighs and not the handles, however.
"Thank you. Not just for the bike, either." He smiled, tugging at the roots of his dyed hair a tiny bit.
You frowned only because of the ambiguity.
He shook his head, turning his helmet in his hands after unhooking it from the handle bars. "Ya gave me a good talk. Hope I wasn't too bad a company, either." His tone stayed chipper, but it was obvious he was a little disappointed.
He didn't think he'd have to leave so soon, but he didn't want to bother you longer.
"You weren't. Despite my first impression of you." You snorted, crossing your arms.
"And what was that?" He queried, brows arched.
"Dumb blond. If that even is your real hair color."
He feigned great offense, mouth agape.
"Harsh, Y/N. Real harsh." Jeff slid his head into the helmet, flipping the visor up so he could still keep eye contact. "And I really am blond. Just not this blond."
"Figured that much. I ain't dumb."
He really loved that spunky little grin you did. But that was why he couldn't stick around any longer— goodbyes weren't his thing and he thought, maybe if he got going he'd be able to move on from this encounter without obsessing over it too much. God knows he didn't need more distractions when his career was on the line.
You hated how heavy your heart felt, but you still smiled politely enough and raised a hand for a finger-wiggle of a wave.
"Bye then," you almost called him another nickname to try and dull the distant despondency. "Jeff."
The biker nodded, closing his eyes in a deep breathe.
"Just so ya know," He touched a hand to the visor of the helmet, this time avoiding your eyes. "I liked ya from the beginnin'."
You damn near froze in place. But he drove off after that, disappearing right back into the clearing. Just like that.
"...What an asshole."
A hand clapped over your mouth when it started to smile. He was an asshole but his last words to you were nice. In a way.
Hard for anything to be nice when it's there and then gone.
Going back inside and flopping face first into the couch, it was cool and comfortable; but all at once you felt lonely again. Again, because in the short time you were with Jeff you had felt alright — miraculously one guy made you feel more at home than a house with parents or a visiting room of friends.
... ... ...
Three days passed and you liked to tell yourself you'd already started forgetting all about the peacock boy.
You had not, but nobody was stopping you from lying mentally.
The front yard stayed half mowed because you were one: lazy, and two: it reminded you how Jeff had joked about doing it for you. You wondered how his yard looked, since he seemed so proud of it. Unless that was a joke.
It wasn't a lie that you wanted to know more about him— you didn't know anything, not really, except he made you talk, he was funny, he got your rude humor, and he... he was rolling up to your porch right now. The noise had sounded all too much like it had days ago, only louder because the bike wasn't breaking down this time. He twisted the handles to further get your attention, since you were still staring out at him from the window.
Stepping over to the second step of the porch stairs, you had nothing to say.
Jeff removed his helmet, and used his free hand to pat the second one he happened to have resting on his lap. He beamed.
"Mornin', Y/N. Long time no see?"
"Not long enough." You snapped back, though the words were the absolute opposite to the joy bubbling up from your toes upward.
Thankfully, he still got your humor, and just lifted the other helmet with an extended arm. You couldn't move forward yet.
"Why're you back here, Jeff?"
His arm never wavered, but he took a second to glance around the yard.
"To mow your lawn, obviously." The man faked a yawn. "How'd I know you still wouldn't have it done?"
You huffed, finally walking down to him on his new bike. Your hands hesitantly took the spare helmet too.
"You don't know me though."And he had called himself a stubborn ass.
Patting your helmet with his gloved hand, then poking your forehead, Jeff scooted as much forward as he could be comfortably.
"Sure. But I'd really like to."
You were on the back of the bike before you knew it.
He revved the motor once more before snapping his helmet on and bravely reaching back to put your hands around his trim waist. The last glance he threw over his shoulder, you were barely able to see his eyes through the light tint of the visor, but his words were crystal clear from this proximity.
You liked this proximity.
"Hold on tight, darlin'."
You did. And for the rest of your days you didn't let go.
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meboysinblue · 7 years ago
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One of my Mass Effect Headcanon
My Shepard did not take only one family photo in ME3. My headcanon is that throughout the series she adimately found a moment’s time to take individual and group photos. Shepard wasn’t an overly sentimental person, but when it came to her crew she had no illusion just how much she considered them family, especially after Akuze. This is gonna be long. But I have no regrets.
Mass Effect 1: 3 pictures. 
The first is after Noveria. They stop for shore leave, drinks and time to unwind while the Normandy receives some maintenance. They hit the town, Shepard paying for drinks and dinner as she watches them all bond. They’re lounging at a rather laidback bar, crowding themselves onto multiple chairs and couches. The human crew talking with Tali and Garrus. Questions geared towards their two dextro-companions. Wrex leans against the wall, talking to Ashley about weaponry, Kaiden chiming in with a question here or their about battle stories. Before any of them notice Shepard’s roped in a bar tender and flops herself down onto Tali and Garrus’s lap, throwing her arms around their necks as the human crew laugh.
The second is taken before Virmire. Something in Shepard’s gut urges her to get the crew together, to let loose before reaching Virmire. A game of poker, mediocre rations, a few drinks and multi-cultural party games later they’re crowding themselves in the mess. More than a little tipsy and leaning on each other to keep those a little too wobbly on their feet. Shepard is in the center practically crushed between Wrex and Garrus.
The third is taken after the Citadel. They’re all finally out of the med bay, repairs are steadily making progress on the Citadel and everyone is getting ready to ship off in the morning. They get together for one last farewell before Tali goes back to the flotilla and Garrus returns to C-sec. Holed up on the Normandy, they’re stocked up on liquor and food. Taking a moment to honor Kaiden and gather together once more for a group photo before the festivities. Shepard squashes herself in between Garrus and Tali again, a suspicious shine in her eyes when the shutter clicks.
Mass Effect 2: 4 pictures
The first picture is after getting back from recruiting Thane. Deciding her old crew, new crew, and cerberus affiliates need to let loose and get along, Shepard takes them all out on Illium for drinks. Much like in ME1 she finds the perfect moment to take a picture. Liara has joined them for the night, sitting near the end of the couch with Miranda and Jacob they chat about the lazarus project and a few other things.  Tali is sitting with the engineers in a cluster of chairs, talking about the Normandy, EDI, and specs. Garrus, Zaeed, and Thane sit near the middle talking about omega, the gangs, and rifles from what Shepard has heard so far. Everyone is beginning to get into the swing of it after more than a few drinks. It’s perfect. Shepard wrangles a server and flops herself in between Garrus and Thane, grinning up at Garrus when he looks down at her with a knowing smile (flair of the mandibles).
The second and third pictures are after the derelict reaper. Shepard has taken them back to Illium, fuming at the Illusive Man’s betrayal. While EDI scans the IFF she takes the rest of the crew out on the town once more. Their bond closer than the Illusive Man anticipated after Shepard jumped around the Milky Way for her crew. A few of the crew a little irritated with Shepard herself as she recklessly laid cover fire while the ground team ran to the Normandy. But after a few drinks, a quick round of rough housing, and full bellies chased with more drinks they find themselves back in the bar from before. This time the picture is a little more composed than the previous pics. Shepard snags a bartender as the crew gets settled. A few too many drinks leads to closer pressed bodies and familiar talons catching her waist and pulling her into a certain Turian’s lap. The rest of the crew laughs, Shepard awkwardly seated on Garrus’s knee while steadying herself on Thane’s. The bartender snaps one then, a moment of lightheartedness. But Shepard insists on one more, cheeks and ears flushed with embarrassment and liquor. She settles herself  upfront between Tali and Jack this time, ears and cheeks still flushed.
The fourth picture is taken on the Citadel after the jump through the Omega-4 relay. Shepard drags the team and most of the crew who survived. Shepard herself is nursing some wounds still however most of her crew is patched up and better off than her. She watches as they drink, dance, and cement the fact that they did it, that they survived and are alive. Shepard’s eyes for the most part are on Garrus as he and Tali dance. Their eyes meet for a moment and before Shepard realizes it, everyone is crowding together on the couch with her, Garrus pressed into her side, Kasumi on her other side. Thane comes over with a server in tow and stands behind her with Tali, Jack, and Grunt.
Mass Effect 3: 3 pictures
Shepard only has one photo op, the chaos of the war leaves everything too tense and difficult to get everyone together before or afterwards. However when she first reunites with everyone she manages to snap a picture of just her and them. Something she does because she needs proof. Proof they were here with her. She has them playing on loop, all the pictures she’s taken up until now with even one of them in it. The crew drunkenly reminisce over the photos, telling stories from the original normandy crew to their newer friends. They mourn Thane and celebrate their time with him, they call Shepard out on her driving and dancing. On how she rarely drank when they went out or how she constantly was the last one on the ship because she was too busy staring at someone’s ass. They joke about her and Garrus, about their collective time on the Normandy as a crew. It’s a warm and nostalgic party but tinged with the very real thought hovering in their minds that this could be the last time they’re together. When it comes time to the picture they take two, one that is serious, one for the books. All of them neatly seated, accepting their roles, and duties. 
The second is of them crammed together on Shepard’s couch like the family they are. Drunk and obnoxious they hanging onto one another, laying ontop of each other, or spilling onto the floor. EDI is holding Joker in her lap with care, minding those around her so no one jostles him too roughly. Grunt and Wrex stand behind the back mid headbutt. In the center is Garrus and Shepard, Shepard sitting in his lap as they press their foreheads together. Tali leans drunkenly against Garrus’s should watching them with a hand on her chest and another on Shepard’s knee. Kasumi is leaning against her, smiling at Shepard and Garrus with a hint of wetness on her cheek.
The third picture is one they never thought they would be alive to take. As one of their few sober photos, this one holds an air of seriousness. They’re crowded around Shepard as she sits in a wheelchair. Garrus stands behind her, a hand on her shoulder and her hand on top. Tali stands next to her, holding Shepard’s free hand, her mask seemingly brighter. Shepard has a few fading bruises, but is alive, an N7 patch on her jacket and a “Normandy” tank on. In similar fashion, each of them has some sort of shirt or coat with “Normandy” on the chest. A strip of N7 red and Archangel blue run down their sleeve/side. Colors of the Normandy’s heart. 
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