#i swear production companies have no idea what they are doing

[emotinalsupportturtle]

Malcolm Bright really exists for a sole purpose; for me to obsess over him

He has GREAT hair, he is quirky, smart and has a deranged sense of humour, is always in a fancy suit and killing it (whore), has absolutely no sense of sense preservation and is completely unhinged but at the same time a massive softie. Also he has really really pretty eyes

He really has everything (including a serial killer father)

absolutely gutted that they cancelled this show btw

[drunkkenobi]

Hi bb, ty for the prompt to write my thoughts!

So I can't get on tumblr at work anymore unless I go outside to get good signal on my phone so I have only been privy to what's going on here today from friends on discord. So maybe I'm missing some nuance or the what my mutuals think and I apologize in advance for that but I'm going to speak plainly.

This is the only way Watcher is going to survive.

The view counts have been steady through Mystery Files season 2 but they aren't, like, astronomical. A video with a million views nets a channel between $10,000 - $30,000. Guys. That's nothing for Watcher. They have to pay each of their 25+ employees a salary with insurance and benefits and for everything else their channel requires. Steven said in the video today that a season of Ghost Files costs hundreds of thousands of dollars. I don't think everyone is hearing that part and understanding how much money that is, especially compared to many other YouTubers they watch. I'm not an expert on other YouTubers but I look at the Sims people I watch. They are successful with views in the hundred k range because they are a company of one. Themselves and maybe paying a freelancer to help edit their videos. For one person, the stakes are lower and the potential for profit is higher! Especially for gamers that are filming in their homes. YouTubers like this, making niche content on the cheap, are who is going to make it in YouTube now.

Watcher is none of those things. They have, from day one, wanted to make high quality unscripted content. All of their shows are shows. They aren't just "Ryan and Shane do [thing]" or "Steven eats [whatever]". They are shows, like ones you see on cable TV or any streamer. And shows are not cheap. Unscripted is cheaper, sure, than scripted. But that doesn't mean cheap. Especially not with the sheer production value we've seen on all their shows, in particular Ghost Files (hundreds of thousands of dollars). That is how much something like Ghost Adventures costs, which is on Travel Channel, an actual TV network that puts up all those costs.

So. That's why Watcher has to pivot to survive.

I think it's a great idea, personally. And yes, I am in a position where I can financially afford it no problem, which I know is a privilege! I am very lucky in that regard. And I understand that many people are upset they won't see the boys as easily on YouTube anymore. That is valid! But they have openly said they are totally fine with password sharing and I think that's a great way to cut down on costs for some folks. Also right now there's a great deal on the yearly sub for early subscribers. $40 for a year is cheaper than any streaming service and it doesn't go to anyone other than Watcher.

I understand that people feel hurt and blindsided, but I think Watcher is also feeling this too. They have been so excited about this and being able to make whatever they want without having to worry about sponsors and now they're mostly seeing anger directed their way. Especially at Steven. Steven is not rich. You know who's rich? David Zaslav, a man who is single-handedly ruining Warner Brothers and making himself a billionaire while he's at it. THAT is the kind of person we should be directing our anger at streaming prices and quality of the media landscape at. Not one small business that is just trying to survive so they can continue paying their employees.

And one more thing. I've seen folks saying they'd rather watch more ads than pay and while I get that, that's not going to help Watcher make what they want. YouTube famously demonetizes videos with swears which is why I can't watch a video with DRAG QUEENS without every other line being bleeped and Watcher has been so good about not bleeping their content because they know we would hate it. And YouTube does this because of advertisers. Advertisers only want to appeal to the most broad of audiences so that means not supporting anything slightly left of center. Having to deal with ads sucks from the creator perspective and does not help them in the long run.

Anyway, this is all a bit rambling, but these are my thoughts on WatcherTV. I'm extremely excited to subscribe and make them make more Weird Wonderful World. I hope to see you all there.

[write4cench]

kisses and braids.

summary: you braid central cee’s hair, but he seems to be a bit too distracted.

pairs: girlfriendreader x boyfriendcee

genre: fluff + making out?

word count: 1.2k

a/n: idk about u but something about braiding a mans hair just does it for me. 😩

“oakley, if you don’t stop moving i swear your braids won’t turn out right.” you complained as he leaned over to pick up something that he managed to drop on the floor, a smile only grew on his lips amused at your annoyance.

central cee and you were seated in the bedroom of your apartment as he found himself comfortable upon the floor, rested on a pillow within your legs whilst you were seated upon your bed.

it was a random time within the evening when the idea of braids came across his mind and of course he turned to you, pleading for you to braid his hair.

and now here you were, braiding his hair into cornrows and having been doing so for the past hour or so, only getting to about half of his head.

one thing about central cee is that he had a lot of hair, but for some reason despite your advice, he always decided to keep it underneath something.

“shit, does it have to be this tight?” he asks you as his tattooed hand comes to rest upon his newly braided hair, you giggled at his silliness.

“baby i’m sorry, but if you want them to look good for longer they can’t be loose.” you insist to him and he sighs, staring off towards the television in your room.

“i just wanna look good for my show this saturday.” he mumbles as he opens a packet of whatever it is that he decides to eat, eyes glued onto the screen.

you pick out a comb and part his head, pulling apart his hair as you do so. “you always look good, “ you start causing an adorable smile to grow on his lips, “why don’t you just keep your hair out once in a while?” you ask him.

he shrugs his shoulders, “i guess it’s too much work innit, at least now there’ll be something done to it.” he insists, implying towards the braids you do.

you pull off of his head and lean back checking out your job so far, unable to see the front you sigh. “can you like turn this way?” you ask him.

you tilt your head towards him to get a better view of the job you’ve done so far. the two of you make eye contact with one one another and a smile grows upon his lips.

“what’s funny?” you ask him confused, comb in other hand. he smiles brightly and adorably, “nah nothing, you just look cute when you’re focused.”

you roll your eyes upon hearing his words and it only makes him laugh, “shut up.” you mumble. “it’s real cute.” he continues.

the room fell quiet and you turned your focus back onto braiding as neat as you possibly could do so, you were on the final braid luckily so it wasn’t a hard job.

cench was too busy eating upon on the crisps within his hands as he found himself interested in whatever it was that he was watching, one thing about the two of you is although you might not talk a lot with each other, something about the quiet company is comforting.

his hand came to playfully hit against your leg in a rhythmic form, the sudden feeling wasn’t annoying but comforting knowing the way he would be playful with you.

“why are you hitting my leg now?” you ask him, slightly moving after each hit of his hand, he doesn’t stop instead continuing on not uttering an explanation causing you to let out a stressed sigh. "alright i guess you want to be annoying." you mutter, loud enough for him to hear.

your hands focus on finish the braid, your hands interwinding his hair between one another as you approach the end, trying to finish it as fast as you possibly can, and when you do you sit back and glance at the finished product.

cench remains seated for a moment, filling his mouth, when he doesn't feel your hands on his hair he turns around to look towards you, eyes wide and hopeful, you beam.

"are we done?" he blinks and you nod your head, he exhales tired yet excitedly whilst you lean over, wrapping your arms around his shoulders pulling him into a hug from behind, he eases into your embrace.

"i'm tired." you yawn as you rest your hands for a short moment, "get some rest." you insists and you refuse, shaking you head.

as soon as you lean back he gets up from the floor, stretching for a short moment and you watch him do so. you take the chance to get up from the bed as well, standing beside him.

"wanna see how it looks?" you manage to say through a yawn, he only looks towards you with thankful eyes, pulling you into his arms.

you almost squeal at the sudden affection, his arms rest against your lower back as he holds you close, his eyes studying yours noticing how you pretend to wish to pull away from him.

"i asked you if you wanted to see your hair, not if you wanted to kiss me." you tell him and he tiredly laughs, arms still holding around onto you. "i don't care, why can't i be close with my girl?"

his head comes to teasingly rest against your shoulder and you giggle as you find a comfort in wrapping your arms over his own, you feel him pecker a few lips onto your skin and since your ticklish a few laughs manage escape through your lips.

"stop." you manage to say through your laughter a hand gently holding onto your head, but he only continues holding you close, you feel his lips form a grin against the skin of your neck.

as soon as he pulls apart you meet eye contact once again, you don't utter a word instead your smile lingers upon your lips and one mirrors upon his own. you lean in, your lips meeting his and he doesn't hesitate to kiss you back.

you kiss one another a passionate moment, enjoying the feeling. the sound of your lips against one another sounds throughout the silence and the comfort of your bedroom. you forget about everything, instead you're focused about spending this moment with the man who you truly love.

you pull away from the kiss when you feel it begin to grow a little too heated, feeling the tingles and sparks that flow throughout your body. playfully you push him away from you, his arms widen and his mouth drops jokingly confused yet enjoying the act.

"we need to stop there." you tell him warningly, it almost as if he knows the affect you have on him since he doesn't complain and you know that he knows.

"alright." he simply says.

nothing but love fills his eyes and it's almost as if you always catch yourself smiling whenever you're with him. "i love you." you say.

he remains quiet for a good moment, realising he's about to catch himself saying something he never thought he would, you watch him expectantly watching how his lips agape to utter the words, just when he's about to he buries his head into his hands.

"i love you too."

[whimsiwitchy]

I hear the secrets that you keep (series)

chapter one: a new beginning

Pedro Pascal x F!reader 

series masterlist

series summary: 24 year old y/n is an insecure and struggling actress in Los Angeles until she finally books a leading role in a big Hollywood movie next to her leading male, Pedro Pascal. A spark of friendship flickers between the two and it slowly begins to blossom into something more. As y/n is navigating a new found fame and a new found romance, she fears that a lie she has been sitting on might ruin everything.

Warnings: plus size reader (no specific description of reader, slight descriptions of weight: stomach fat, stretch marks, etc.), hefty age gap (24 years/14 years), female anatomy description, she/her pronouns, use of gendered terms (girl, girly, etc.), y/n used, descriptions of nudity, swearing,  use of the word fat, warnings may change as the story progresses. 

authors note: Hi everyone. This is my first time writing anything, so this might end up being pretty bad lmao. I kinda have an idea of where I want to take this and want to continue this even if no one reads it. Please let me know what you think! Thank you and enjoy. <3

chapter summary: Angie books y/n an audition opportunity and she is terrified. Y/n reflects on her insecurities and heads to the audition room. 

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

It was 9am and you’ve been staring at an email Angie had sent earlier in the morning. The subject read “AUDITION INFO BIATCH”. This would usually be deemed pretty unprofessional for an agent to send a client but Angie wasn’t just  your agent, she was also your long time best friend. You both had big dreams of making it big in Los Angeles and made the move six years ago. While you continued to search for acting jobs, Angie decided to become an agent after years of no luck. You wished you could give up, maybe gain some happiness back instead of having constant disappointment running around your head like it was trying to win a goddamn gold medal at the olympics. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ���─── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Good morning sunshine, 

You have an audition scheduled for 3PM tomorrow! I attached all the details down below. If you need anything, give me a call babe! 

Sincerely, 

Angie Hawthorn (aka the best agent ever hehe) 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You read over the email and clicked on the files attached. One file was the original casting call information describing what they are looking for and a description of the project. The other was an audition offer explaining what you needed to prepare and where the audition would be held. You clicked on the casting call file and began to read it. 

“Fleeting Productions presents Risky Disco directed by Samual James.”

You stared blankly at the first sentence. “That is such a stupid fucking move title..” you huffed under your breath. You shook your head and continued reading. 

“Starring Pedro Pascal as Daniel Mendez. Daniel travels back in time to the 70s to live his dream of being a disco king. On his journey, he takes lovers every chance he gets and swears to himself that he won’t fall in love.” 

You picked your phone and called Angie. When she answers the phone she greets you with excitement.

“Y/n! Oh my god are you excited?!? This can be your big break. Your first audition for a big production company!!” You stared blankly at the wall while she spoke. “You’re fucking with me right? Like you have to actually be fucking with me..” You said with exasperation. She was silent for a moment. “What do you mean? This is great y/n. I’m not sure-” You cut her off before she could continue. “Angie, I need you to be so fucking for real right now. Did you read that shit show of a description?” She didn’t answer for a moment. “What’s so bad about it?” “Ang…you’re telling me, you saw this casting call, and thought of me? You have known me for how long? What about me is screaming 70s lover girl to a disco maniac? First of all, I'm fat. You know F A T. Fat girls don’t exist in the 70s it’s like-” The line goes dead. “Hello? Ang I’m trying to rant to you over here, don’t you care?” You looked down and noticed she hung up on you. “That stupid bitch.” You say in aggravation. As you go to call her again, a text pops up.

“Call me when you’re done being a self shaming loser <3”

You sighed and sat your phone down. You know that what you say isn’t always nice and you also know that Angie can’t stand when you talk down on yourself. It’s become a bad habit you can’t seem to break. You grab your water bottle from your night stand, take a sip, and continue to read over the audition information. 

“Our casting directors are looking for 12 women from the ages 35-40. All weights accepted. All skin tones accepted. One role will be filled as the leading lady alongside the leading male. The 11 other roles will be filled as lovers of the leading male. Each role may include sexual acts with a male actor as well as partial or full nudity. All actors will work closely with an intimacy coach before all scenes.” 

Okay, you definitely owe Angie an apology since they're throwing a weight limit out the window on this film. This film has the potential to be very… wait what the fuck does that say? You pick up your phone to call Angie again. 

“Are you done being a loser?” 

“Angie, honey, darling, my love…Why does it say that the age requirements are 35-40? I’m trying to be very calm about this right now but I really need to know what you were thinking in that little pea brain of yours? Hm.. a 24 year old auditioning for a role that is for a middle aged woman, what was the thought process behind that one love?” 

“Y/n I need you to keep that calm demeanor when I tell you this. Can you do that?” You think about your answer and sigh. “Yes I can do that. Spill the beans.” “Okay so, I might have sort of lied and said that you were 35…” You stood silent on the other end for a few seconds. “YOU DID WHAT???” “Y/n calm down it-” “HOW IN THE WORLD IS MY FRESH 24 YEAR OLD BABY FACE GOING TO PRETEND TO BE 35?? HUH ANGIE??” “Well you don’t have that much of a baby face, you can pull off 35.” “I’m gonna hang up now before I actually kick you in the head.” You hung up the phone and screamed into your pillow. 

It can’t be that hard to pretend to be 35 right? You sat up and set your head in your hands and took some deep breaths. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

After your mini freak out yesterday you went to work and got home at 8pm. You showered, ate, did some rehearsing, and hit the hay. You woke up at 7am the next morning and began getting ready for your audition. You searched pinterest to look for an appropriate outfit for a 35 year old. As you descaled your closet, you began to feel hopeless. After settling for an outfit, you headed to the kitchen to eat some breakfast and do some warmups. As it got closer to audition time, you started to feel the nervous butterflies entering your tummy. You took your phone off the charger to send Angie a quick text. 

“I’m sorry for freaking out on you yesterday, please forgive me my love. ♥ ️ Also OOTD, do I look 35? Oh and why the fuck are they casting that age for a disco movie… Love you!” You went to sit your phone down but immediately got a response from Angie. 

“It’s okay, you don’t look a day under 40 babe <3. And girl idk. I think it’s because Pedro is pushing 50.” 

“Okay fuck you. Who’s Pedro?” 

“Ummmm… the leading male. Like the whole ass dude you're probably going to be getting down and dirty with if you get this part. Did you not look him up?” 

“There ain’t no fucking way you lied about my age so I can bump and grind with a 50 year old man… I’m actually going to kill you.”

“Girl he’s hot as fuck, I’m doing you a favor. Who gives a shit if he's old, he can get it ANY day ;)” 

“You’re fucking gross dude. I gotta head out soon to try to beat a little bit of the traffic. Wish me luck. Love you!!”

“Love you girly, break a leg!”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You turned into the studio lot and parked when you found the building the auditions were being held in. You’ve been to the studios more times than you can count, but this time felt different. This time felt real. You entered the building and walked up to a woman at a desk. “Hi, I’m here for an audition.” You smiled and she handed you a form to fill out. Once you were finished you handed it back to her and she instructed you to wait until your name was called. You looked around as you sat and waited. There were only 4 other women waiting in the room. As you looked at them, all of your insecurities started to pour out. This was not the time to be doubting yourself. You settled on looking down at your shoes instead. Each woman was called back one by one until you were the only one left. 

“Y/n Y/l/n?” You got up and greeted the man that called your name. As you followed him to the back your heart began to pound. Once you got to the door, you shook out your nerves and plastered the most sincere smile you could muster. 

You opened the door and walked up to a table in the back of the room. You shook everyone's hands and handed them your material. You stood in the center of the room and began your slate. After the prepared material was performed, they asked you various questions. You were answering with all honesty. Even flying by their questioning of your age. “Your paper states that you're 35. You look really young for that age.” You gulped “Just good genes I guess.” You gave them a laugh and a smile to which they returned. “We’re going to have to do a quick reading with some sides from the movie if that’s okay with you?” “Of course, that would be great!”.

You got into character as they handed you the slides. “You’ll actually be reading with the leading man himself. Pedro, whenever you’re ready go ahead and start.” You looked over to where the man looked when he spoke. Your breath caught in your throat as you looked at who they spoke to, Pedro you assumed. He smirked as you stared. How didn’t you notice him before? With a face that handsome, you’re thankful you somehow skipped over it. He for sure would have had you shaking with even more nerves. 

“You ready to start sweetheart?” You could have melted into a puddle right then and there. After a few seconds of silence you collected yourself. “Yea, I’m ready.” He gave you a smile and looked into your eyes. The two of you flowed through the lines with ease. It was like butter melting perfectly on a warm piece of toast. The type of toast that is so perfect, you don’t need to add jelly at all. It’s golden and beautiful. The chemistry between you two was golden. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

4 hours later…

The reading with Pedro was intense. There are no other words to describe it. Everything felt so natural and it was electric. The whole room got 10 degrees warmer by the end. Once the reading was over, everyone thanked you for your time and you were dismissed. You thanked them and gave a quick bye. You tried to sneak one last glance at Pedro but he was already looking at you. These memories that happened just a few hours prior keep swimming in your head. No matter how hard you tried to think about something else, you couldn’t stop thinking about the handsome man and how he looked at you.

You’re yanked out of your thoughts when your phone starts ringing. It was Angie. 

“Hey Ang, what’s up?” 

“Bitch….you must have left one hell of an impression.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Y/n you got the lead!” 

“Oh shit..” 

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝ 

Thank you for reading <3

chapter two

[brain-of-rain]

Kaiju no. 8 x Godaigo Daigo

Ya'll I'm going to be honest, I really hate writing. However, I am so obsessed with this concept I can't stop myself from trying. Here's an attempt to slap some ideas together into something comprehensible.

Overcast skies shade the city. It's been cold today, the first undisputable sign of changing seasons. Most citizens groan about the chilly air, not ready to let go of summer yet. Some welcome it, and others have been waiting for this moment all year. The lack of sun and cool breeze do wonders for reducing the rotten stench of a stagnant kaiju corpse.

It's noon, and the Monster Sweeper Inc. crew is breaking for lunch. No one wanders off to buy food as the surrounding stores are abandoned. Buildings were left empty during the kaiju clean-up efforts. Co-workers find seating on grassy hills and benches in a nearby park, unboxing packed lunches and chatting aimlessly as their hour rest ticks by. “Man, It’s been a while since the big guy has dropped in. Guess the defense force is keeping him busy” “Sir?” Reno Ichikawa pauses, looking up from his vitamin pouch, too curious to ignore the comment. “Someone from the defense force works for the company?” “Well…” Kafka peters off, gesturing incomprehensibly. “His situation is a bit… complicated.” Glancing at Reno he's met with a deadpan look. “Ok ok, so Big Guy doesn't exactly work for Monster Sweeper Inc., it's more of a volunteer contract. He comes and lends a hand with cleanup when the defense force lets him go out at least, I swear he probably begs to clean up Kaiju, they barely let him out nowadays.” “So what you're saying is the defense force has a prisoner who prefers digging around in kaiju guts over whatever solitary confinement they have him trapped in at the base. You can’t be serious. How could you see the Force with such high favor if that were true.” “No no, you've got it all wrong! He's not a prisoner… well I guess prisoner isn't entirely inaccurate, but his situation isn’t so simple! He's a prisoner of circumstance, not the defense force! UGH, why is this so hard to describe.” “Jesus Kafka, you could not be any worse at explaining things” Mitsuike grins from his bench, scoffing good-naturedly, sympathetic to Ichikawas’ position. “You're beating around the bush too much. What Kafka is trying to say is that Big Guy is the unfortunate product of human experimentation and is required to stay on base unless deployed by the higher-ups due to his terrifying appearance… Ok, I see why you’re having trouble.” Kafka leaps up, dancing around like he won some important bet “HAHA! See! I-” Thud - a familiar sound interrupts the celebration. Thud - There it is again, followed by another at a regular cadence, getting closer with each repetition. The cold, empty streets echoed with the noise. Ichikawa leaps to his feet eyes locked onto his mentor, vitamin lunch forgotten entirely. “Why aren't the kaiju alerts sounding?” His tone was sharp yet controlled. “Why isn't anyone moving? We need to evacuate.” “Ahhh speak of the devil.” Kafka is looking elsewhere, towards the resounding footsteps. “Looks like we don’t have to explain after all.” His nearsighted squint breaks into a smile as he begins waving. Ichikawa stares blankly at him before another footfall breaks his confusion. He looks up, and up and up until he meets the subject of Kafka’s attention. It’s a man, an unnaturally, tall man, dwarfing nearby buildings and interrupting the cityscape. It stops and raises a hand to return Kafka’s gesture. The figure softens, suddenly familiar, friendly, and human. “Oh.” That is all Ichikawa can muster. “That…” Kafka smiles, “Is Big Guy.”

[bullet-prooflove]

Something Else: Bode Leone x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @jeysbae @cloveroctobers @dizzybee03 @a-porcelain-gir1 @missy203 @floydsglasses @@alixw22x @shelbygeek @muligatorrr @jaybae @yousigned-upforthis @kmc1989 @brenobikenobi @mini-bee-bee @timmybradford @zippeylay @rhilee91 @switchbladeclub @itzkiarabxtches @girlinwounderland @choppedgalaxynerd @drunkangels @freecreationpost @stefani-topaz @chlo-lo14

One of Bode’s favourite things about being out on parole is the upgrade in shower facilities.

In prison you get ten minutes in the company with at least one other person, you try not to look but it’s incidental. The water was always freezing cold or scalding, there’s no in between. It was different at fire camp, you get fifteen minutes to yourself but the water pressure was shitty and the temperature tepid at best.

At home with you he gets as much hot water as he wants for as long as he wants, and baths…

They are a game changer after a hard day working construction or volunteering with Cal Fire.

Another thing he enjoys is the aromatherapy aspect. He’s used to relying on the shit they have in commissary and then what Cap was able to source from the General Store. It was always nameless, scentless, rough on his skin.

When he comes across the Wild & Sage stall at the Farmer’s Market he’s overwhelmed, he’s always liked the idea of natural products he’s just never been able to try them due to his legal predicament.

“I don’t know what to choose.” He says softly to you, his fingertips trailing over the silver reuseable containers. “There’s so many…”

“That’s what samples are for.” You say quietly, taking his hand in yours. You dab your fingers into the moisturising cream before spreading it across the back of his hand. He raises it to his nose inhaling it and that scent, the woodsy overtone, it makes everything feel a little lighter. His skin feels softer, less tight, less dry.

He spends over thirty minutes in front of that stall, talking with the vendor, trying all the samples. He works out what he likes, what he doesn’t like. He ends up spending a small fortune on toiletries, something he’s never done in his life.

“It’s nice to see you investing in yourself.” You tell him, when you come back from the florist with a bouquet of sunflowers tucked into the crook of your arm.

He smiles when the bathroom door clicks open, he sees your shape beyond the frosted glass, hears the sound of your clothes falling onto the tiles. This is the other thing he likes, the company.

“Hi.” He murmurs as you step underneath the stream of water with him.

“Hi.” You say, your fingers threading through his damp hair as you press against him.

“God you feel good.” He whispers against your lips, your fingers wrap around his cock and he inhales sharply because the sensation of your hand working him over, it’s bliss.

“But this is better right?” You tease, your thumb tracing over the tip of his cock.

He moans into your mouth because you, you have magic hands. He’ll never get tired of the way you touch him, the light brush of your fingertips, the steady intense pressure of your palm. The ecstasy, it builds in the base of his spine, searing through his synapses as you stroke him a little faster, a little harder. His breathing becomes ragged, his kisses messy, he’s right there at the edge of the precipice when your pussy envelops him.

He can’t think, he can’t breathe, all he can do revel in the sensation of that tight wet heat as it grips him.

“Baby.” He drawls as you clench around the tip of his dick. “Fuck baby, fuck!”

He comes so fucking hard that he sees stars, his release spilling into you. When he pulls out, it coats the head of his cock. You grasp his shaft, smearing his spent all over your pussy and he almost loses it all over again. You kill him with this shit, he swears to God, you do.

“You are something else you know that?” He murmurs, his forehead coming to rest coming to rest upon yours. “Truly you are.”

Love Bode? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[outofconcheol]

Sign Here For... (HJS x F!Reader)

pairing: delivery boy!Jisung x afab!reader genres/au/rating: crack, smut, fluff, one night stand au, 18+ summary: Feeling frustrated and reeling from your recent breakup, you put in a special order on your favorite delivery app. However, with the goods, comes Jisung, who's a lot more than you'd ever bargained for.

word count: 4.0k

warnings: past relationship and referenced breakup (Minho x reader), regrettable decisions are made, Jisung and reader are both so very shy and cute but also bold, lots of innuendos, alcohol use, swearing, some little thoughts of self-doubt, Jisung's black nail polish, unexpected feels, smut warnings: nsfw thoughts, sex toys, making out, nipple play, fingering (f receiving), oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex (the pull-out method)

a/n: djsksk what is this?? except the unhinged product of both my imagination and my infatuation with Han Jisung. this is my first time writing a fic for anybody besides bts, so I'm super nervous about this. Special thanks to Miss Emme (@temptaetions) for informing me that Dashmart, of all places, sells sex toys which then became the impetus for whatever kind of delusional thing this is. i hope you enjoy, and please be nice!

This had the potential to be a bad idea. A very bad idea. Rubbing at your eyes, you glare at your phone screen in the dark, legs tucked underneath you on the couch. If this backfired, maybe you could blame the blue light. Your psych professor in college had always loved to mumble about how cell phones were killing the younger generations’ brain cells. 

Or, you could blame the fact that you’d shown up to Chan’s party last night, determined to have a good time after months of moping over your breakup, only to find your ex, Minho, sucking face with a new girl. Yeah. You could definitely blame it on that.

It wasn’t like you didn’t expect him to move on — it was just that you also expected yourself to have. Minho had been your first and only relationship, lasting through all of college and beyond before you’d broken up, deciding your lives were heading in different directions.

Honestly, you hadn’t been upset until the party last night. You’d accepted the breakup, growing pains were inevitable when you’d gotten together so young. But the fact that he’d moved on this quickly and you hadn’t stung.

Not to mention you were horny. Four years with Minho and then just like that, it all stopped. All you wanted was to get laid again. Unfortunately, after a disastrous drunken encounter on a dating app with a physical therapy student named Changbin, in which he’d fallen asleep before you’d even done the deed, you decided that it might have been too soon, and to take a step back.

But you were human, and if devoting your college years to studying the human psyche had taught you anything, it was that humans were needy. Very needy. For food, for shelter, for company. Which is why you were surprised at how the human race hadn’t crumbled already, given the rate of break-ups and divorces occurring these days. The problem was, that despite being needy, humans were also overthinkers.

So you’d spent a week pondering over what you were about to do, rationalizing every aspect of it in your brain - the pros, the cons, the consequences. And had almost talked yourself out of it when running into Minho tonight had been the catalyst for driving your decision the other way completely.

All you wanted was to hop onto your favorite delivery app, ready to wallow in pity over some ice cream and chips, and maybe Pride and Prejudice (2005), but then you’d seen it. 

It seemed delivery apps were becoming more and more full service these days. Because right there, past the Doritos and the body wash, were sex toys. 

You feel your throat go dry and eyes widen as they flash across the screen - all different sizes, shapes, and colours. There was more variety than you expected.

Immediately, you groan at yourself. More variety than you expected? Who expected to see sex toys on a delivery app anyway? The drought must finally have been getting to your brain.

Throwing your phone aside, you groan, trying to ignore the throbbing at your temple and in between your thighs. Maybe it was time to go out and find someone – maybe your self-imposed celibacy was driving you stir-crazy. It wouldn’t be so crazy to check out Minho’s Instagram, and see how he was doing…

“Get it together!” you mumble to yourself, pinching your arm. You were not going to stoop to the level of texting your ex. However, you were going to stoop to a different level entirely. You wipe your clammy palms on your thighs, picking your phone back up and clicking on a pink one quickly, immediately scrolling down to avoid dealing with the consequences of your transgression.

A few minutes later, you’ve managed to fill the cart with a dozen different snacks…and well… the other thing. It taunts you as you check out, and you focus your mind elsewhere, like the berry cheesecake ice cream you’d ordered. This was just another form of self-care, right?

You can feel the blood rushing in your ears and a bead of sweat trickles down your back, and you make the decision to hop into the shower while you waited. Sighing, you push yourself to stop being the overthinker you’d always been. Whoever was in charge of it would just put it at the door and then leave. It was none of their business, right?

Jisung really wasn’t a judgemental person. He knew people went through so much in their lives, which is why he never questioned orders with enough food for twelve people, only for one person to show up at the door. Or when someone ordered just yogurt and Tide Pods. People tended to forget things. Or they wanted to enjoy things. And who was he to stop them?

But right now, he was conflicted. He’d thought nothing of the order he’d just gotten, clicking accept on his delivery app, but then he’d done a double take when he actually saw what he’d had to pick up. Chugging along to the store on his red bicycle, he heaves for breath, trying to calm the racing in his heart.

You had to be joking right? Maybe you’d clicked it by mistake. He was more than used to his fair share of strange requests, but delivering a vibrator to someone’s doorstep was a new one. For a second, he’d thought about calling to confirm that you’d actually meant to order it, along with a mountain of snacks, but pushed the thought away immediately. That would only make things more awkward.

He wondered what could have possessed you to do something so impulsive. But then a lightbulb went off in his head. People tended to make rash decisions when they were going through a tough time — like a breakup. And suddenly, it all made sense to Jisung.

And being the empathetic person he was, his heart twinged for your sadness. You must have been really lonely. He wondered who could have broken up with you to make you so upset - from what he saw from your snack choices, you already had impeccable taste and he liked you. So he’d make sure you got your things safely.

Pulling up to the store, Jisung parks his bike away safely, the bell above the door signaling his entrance. The store clerk takes one look at him in his snapback with the app’s logo on it, and can barely hold back a smirk. Jisung feels his cheeks heat up… this wasn’t even his stuff, why was he feeling self-conscious?

“I’m uh, here for, —” he chokes out, feeling his throat close up, unable to get the words out. “Yeah.”

“Here you go,” the store clerk pushes the bag his way, unable to hold back their laughter, and Jisung feels a flash of anger go through him. Yeah, it was odd, but there was no reason to be so judgemental about it. “I hope whoever it is enjoys themselves.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they do,” he blurts out, watching the clerk’s eyes widen before he realizes what he’d just said. “I-, I mean I’ll make sure they get it, you know?”

He decides it’s time to leave before he does something even more stupid, slapping his palm against his forehead while he rushes out. What was it about this specific time that had him so flustered?

Actually, he knows what it was. He’d taken one look at the pink vibrator nestled away in its packaging, and thoughts of what would happen to it after he’d left it at your door raced through him. Rubbing a hand at the back of his neck, he wipes away the sweat that collects at his nape, taking a few deep breaths before hopping back on his bike.

Looking at the map, your apartment was only a couple of blocks away. He had to get it together before then.

Shaking out your wet hair, you slip your oversized t-shirt on, pulling up your fluffy socks, only to be interrupted by a knock at the door. That couldn’t be what you thought it was. You decide to wait a few minutes to see if they knock again, and sure enough, they do.

You huff, looking down at your app. You’re pretty sure you’d clicked “leave at front”. But whoever “Jisung” was, he clearly didn’t get the memo, knuckles continuing to rap at your door. 

“Helloooo,” his voice calls out, laced with genuine concern. “Is anyone there?”

Filled with annoyance, you stomp over to the door, pulling it open, ready to give this guy a piece of your mind when—,

Oh. Oh.

Big, brown doe eyes look at you from the other end, glassy and filled with sparkles, and your mind immediately goes blank, forgetting what you were so upset about. You stay there, lips parted, taking in every detail of the handsome stranger currently at your door, from his longish hair that falls in his eyes underneath his snapback, to the black painted fingernails on his slender hands. 

The two of you remained locked in a stare for a few moments, Jisung unable to take his eyes off you either, and that’s when it registers that you’re only wearing a t-shirt and socks. You have the urge to slam the door in his face and scream from embarrassment, but then you wouldn’t be able to see his pretty face. 

Jisung lets out a strangled sound, somewhere in between choking and a cough, hitting his chest in order to get the words out.

“Hi, I’m here with your order,” his voice cracks when he presents the bag full of things, the pink vibrator lying right on top 

Your lips remain parted in an “o”, unable to say anything, eyes flitting in between your order and the cute delivery boy at your door. Eventually, you realize you should do something. Just maybe. So he doesn’t think you’re weird.

“I, uh, thank you, uhm, Jisung was it?” you watch his eyes widen at your acknowledgement, a smile lighting up his face. And it has your heart doing backflips. 

“No problem, I hope you enjoy it!” Jisung responds enthusiastically, his ears reddening when he realizes what he’d just said.

Time seems to stand still when you accept the bag, watching him zip up his backpack and put on his jacket, those black nails taunting you. For a moment you imagine what they’d feel like inside of —

“Do you wanna come inside?” The words tumble from your lips before you can stop them, and Jisung freezes. You swear you hear him curse underneath his breath.

This was insane. Probably the most insane thing you’d done since breaking up with Minho. But he gave you butterflies in a way that no one had for a long time, and maybe, just maybe, this was a sign from the universe to take a risk. One more time. 

“Jisung,” you repeat slowly, and he finally looks up at you, checking over his shoulder to see if you’re talking to him. “Do you want to come inside?”

He shrugs his jacket off, letting his backpack slip off until it’s hanging off one shoulder before he nods, unable to take his eyes off you standing on the other side of the threshold.

“I’d love to.”

Jisung feels like he’s going to pass out, wondering if he was having an out-of-body experience. Not only did he deliver his first sex toy today, but of course it had to be to one of the hottest girls he’d ever seen. None of it seemed real, as he followed you into your cosy apartment, filled with fairy lights and soft cushions.

A troublesome thought crosses his mind as he slips off his jacket and shoes, when he thinks back to how maybe you’d been going through a break-up. You inviting him in only served to strengthen that suspicion in his mind, but you’d been nothing but nice, just as shy and nervous at he’d felt. Whatever this was, Jisung was down for it, whether you just needed someone to talk to or — he thinks back to the pink vibrator. 

Perhaps it was better not to get ahead of himself.

“Make yourself comfortable,” your soft voice echoes from the kitchen. He can hear you rustling around in there, putting away your things, and it makes him even more flustered. He looks around for anything to distract him from his racing mind, settling on a few photo frames of you and another guy, posing with three cats.

“I should probably take those down,” you surprise him again, coming up from behind and setting down some of the snacks you’d gotten and a few bottles of soju. “I haven’t really had anyone over here since the breakup.”

He was honestly shocked you were still on the rebound from your last relationship, given that you were — well you. If he’d known you then, heartbreak wouldn’t even have been a word in your vocabulary.

“It wasn’t horrible, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you reassure him, seeing a cute frown cross his face. “Minho was my first for a lot of things, but eventually you realize not everything is meant to last forever.”

“Is that why you, uh, you needed the things today?” Jisung chokes on sip of soju, hoping the sharp liquid can make him a little less awkward. From the way you fidget with your hair, he realizes it’s not helping at all on that front.

“Enough about me,” you take another swig, a bit of soju dribbling down your chin, and Jisung fights the urge to reach over and wipe it off. But then he’d be too close.

Jisung is a natural talker, opening up easily about himself and his life, from his own cute puppy to his friend group. Through the course of the conversation, he realizes that you’re older than him, but it doesn’t bother him. Something about the earnestness in your eyes makes him feel comfortable. It doesn’t help that you’re stunning under the dim lights, your damp skin shining and lips twisting into an adorable grin while you listen to him talk.

He wonders if he’s being a bit too forward, unable to keep his eyes off them while he goes on, but if you notice, you don’t say anything.

Half an hour later, and the distance between the two of you on the couch is completely non-existent, your thighs pressed up against Jisung’s while you giggle at his Doraemon impression. 

He knows he’s probably a little tipsy, both of you are, but that doesn’t stop shock from registering when you pick up his hands, intertwining your fingers to marvel at his nail polish.

You bring them close to you, and even though he’s not touching you, he can swear he feels the thud of your heartbeat underneath your shirt.

“Do you like them?” his voice is gravelly as he asks the question, the soju making him feel like he’s floating. 

“I do,” you stutter out. “They look really fucking good, I want them to, I-I mean I want some like them, shit–”

Another giggle bubbles from your lips and Jisung thinks he’s going to lose his mind, watching your eyes grow heavy-lidded, still clutching his hands in yours. The two of you are impossibly close now, any more and you’d be on top of him, but maybe he wants that. Maybe you want it too. 

You squeak when he pulls you on top of him, the haze clearing momentarily when he feels your legs straddle him, clutching onto his shirt to avoid falling over completely. Jisung grips your thighs to hold you steady, and your stomach swims at his proximity. Looking into your eyes, he sees your pupils go dark, your throat bobbing while the two of you remain frozen, contemplating your next move. 

He watches you suck in a breath, breaking eye contact to look over at the photo frames on your shelf, sadness flashing in your eyes. It stirs something within him, and he stops you midway, cupping your chin in his hands and tilting your head back towards him.

“Can I kiss you?” His voice is lower than he’s ever heard it, desire seeping into every crevice, and he sees you give a little nod before you’re leaning in, crashing your lips onto his. 

Jisung stifles a groan, melting into the kiss, your soft, slightly chapped lips adding to the fire that fuels in between you. A whine escapes the back of your throat, your nails raking through the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him into you. He traces the inside of your mouth, pressing you down onto his thighs, shocked to find wetness leaking onto his jeans. 

You pull away with a flush, realization dawning on your face. Chewing your lower lip, you give him an apologetic look.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I forgot I wasn’t wearing anything underneath…”

Jisung pulls you back into him, nipping at your bottom lip, before he’s pulling away again, his warm breath fanning into your neck.

“You don’t have to apologize baby,” he voice makes you shiver. “I came here for you after all.”

The two of you stumble back into your bedroom, lips clashing desperately, and you tug at the hem of Jisung’s shirt. He breaks away from your lips to allow you a small bit of focus, but it’s gone in seconds when he eyes your neck, pressing small kisses along its length, pausing to graze his teeth in a few spots. 

You flutter your eyelashes against Jisung’s temple, finally grabbing hold of his shirt and slipping it over his head. You pause, taking him in, running your knuckles along his sides, and he shivers. 

Jisung doesn’t even wait for you to finish undressing him, pushing you back onto your bed softly, watching the way your oversized t-shirt hikes up, exposing more and more of your body to him. 

You feel your stomach fall into knots at the appreciative look in his eyes. It’d been so long since someone had looked at you like that, and you feel like you could explode from that alone. You cling onto his biceps, giving them a squeeze, and he moves quickly, pulling you flush against him so he can grab your shirt and tear it off. 

Shoving you against him, he mouths at your jaw, tugging your hair so you arch up into him, grinding against the rough denim of his jeans. You collapse into a series of moans and sighs, rutting against him while Jisung continues to work you over, moving down to your neck, before he thumbs at your breasts.

The first swipe of his thumb against your nipple has you keening, throbbing with need until —

Jisung pins you in place, lifting his body slightly so you’re no longer touching. He toys with your nipple experimentally, giving it a squeeze, and you nearly sob at the contact, wanting to feel him again.

“Had to cut it off or I wouldn’t last,” he rumbles into your ear, stroking the soft skin of your stomach before he dips down in between your thighs, stroking exactly where you need him.

Jisung’s eyes widen in surprise at exactly how wet you seem to be, curiously swiping up and down before he plunges a finger in.

“Jisung, please, god, I—” you’re unable to get the words out, tugging at his hair while he fucks you open, your clit throbbing. Your hands roaming underneath the waistband of his pants, pushing at them uselessly, before Jisung pauses. You watch your arousal coat his fingers while he works the button open, finally pulling them off. 

Closing your eyes, you ready to finally feel him, but like everything else today, Jisung is full of surprises, kneeling until he’s face first with you, exposed and open for him. The first press of his tongue against you has you bucking up into him, and you feel him smirk, his other hand reaching to press on your neck.

Your eyes flutter, your entire focus narrowing to where Jisung sucks on your clit, and then you’re breaking, nearly flying off the sheets as your thighs clamp around his head, both of you unable to contain your moans. 

Jisung looks down at you, his lips swollen and messy with you on them, and you watch him study you, flushed and fucked out underneath him.

“Hey,” he says softly, brushing away the hair that’s fallen on your face. “You okay still?”

“Better than okay,” you mumble through your lips, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. It’s too soft a gesture for what this was supposed to be, but Jisung melts into it anyway, reveling in the quiet moment. 

“Keep going please?” you breathe into his neck. There’s barely a moment to think before Jisung’s hands are on your ass again, pushing you up into him so he can line himself up with your entrance. Without warning, he slides in, bottoming out harshly, and you dig your nails into his back.

You open up wider, letting him grab your leg and rest it on his shoulder, and his arm braces itself around your waist, lifting you up so he can find your lips again, tongue catching all the sounds that fall out of you. 

His hands roam all over you, like he can’t get enough of your body. Jisung’s sweat soaked bangs are messy as he throws his head back, thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier, and you know he’s close. 

“Fuck,” he groans, rubbing tight circles on your clit, until you feel yourself snap, gushing around him. “Where can I–”

Your hand rests on his jaw, rubbing small circles into it, and you’re pushing him back, watching his eyes widen in shock as you lower, taking him in between your lips. Jisung makes a strangled noise when he feels himself hit the back of your throat, twitching once before spilling into you. 

The two of you fall into each other, heavy breaths mingling, and Jisung buries his head into the crook of your neck. You feel him smile against you, and your own soft smile lights up your face, the both of you falling asleep holding each other.

It must be the middle of the night before you muster up the energy to move, cleaning yourself off and changing into a comfy shirt and sweatpants. Behind you, Jisung is still dozing off, his face even softer in sleep than it was awake, and you stroke his cheek.

Feeling bad, you slip out, deciding to make him a cup of coffee. There’s a pang in your heart when you realize that he has to leave after this, that the two of you made no promises to each other. Every muscle in your body is aching as you hunch over the boiling coffee pot, begging you to ask him to stay. 

From the corner of your eye, you spot the pink vibrator sitting on the counter, still in its packaging, and you chuckle, realizing you’d never got a chance to put it away.

“I hope you’re not thinking of using that without me,” you jump in shock at Jisung’s voice, turning around to see him grinning at you, hair mussed and clothes rumpled. 

“Oh god, Jisung, I’m so sorry, your job, I didn’t even realize,” panic sets in as you try to make an excuse, guilt filling your chest for dragging him into your heartbreak.

“___,” he comes up to you, wrapping you in a hug from behind, his head resting on your shoulder. “Believe me, I wouldn’t have stayed unless I wanted to. And I wanted to.”

“Really?” you breathe out, unable to believe he’s actually saying this. “Why?”

You can’t stop your voice from cracking, the doubt creeping in again when you thought about how things had been good with Minho, and yet they hadn’t lasted, believing that someway, somehow, it was your fault. That you hadn’t been enough.

Jisung chuckles into your neck, pressing a kiss onto your cheek. 

“You’re so cute. I wanna be here for you, in whatever way you need. If that wasn’t evidence enough, I’m kinda into you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

You feel your heart explode at his self-assuredness, finding comfort in his presence. When the morning came you knew he’d have to go, but maybe, just maybe, you’d let yourself be needy again. Especially when it worked out so well the last time.

a/n pt. 2: As always, any comments or feedback are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi &lt;3

[goldenseresinretriever]

False Confidence: Chapter 11

Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: The Athletic named Javy Machado the fifth sluttiest player in the NHL last year. He’s a known playboy who leaves every game with a different girl. As far as he’s concerned he’s living the dream, playing his dream job with the dream lifestyle. Unfortunately his friends and bosses don’t agree. At 33, they think it’s time for him to settle down. You’re a kindergarten teacher at an esteemed private school. You don't expect much when you finally accept your colleague’s invitation to attend her husband’s hockey game but when you accidentally get separated in the post-game rush, you find yourself in a compromising situation with the last person you’d ever expected to meet. When his PR rep suggests a mutually beneficial agreement, your hands are tied. How long will you have to keep up the act? And how long will you be able to?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, angst, fluff, fake relationship, suggestive language, anxiety, school system inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: I planned to wait until 5pm but fuck it, we ball

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

You pick at the knit fabric of your sweater before you remember how much it cost and forcibly pull your arms back to your sides. The sweater and skirt you’re wearing under it are another product of your shopping spree with Nat and you’d secretly chosen it for today, planning of course to find some Javy-related event to wear it to later to justify putting it on his card. You couldn’t help it, you wanted something special for tonight. After an anxiety-ridden week spent pacing your living room every night trying to choose the pieces you wanted to showcase, it’s finally the night of your gallery showing. Pop-up gallery, you remind yourself. It’s a one-night event, promising minimal exposure for your art, but the idea of hanging it somewhere that’s not on your walls is enough to have you bouncing on your feet as you overanalyze your canvases currently hanging on the wall. You didn’t have the budget for the ornate frames you secretly envision your pieces inhabiting so the naked canvases are on display and you try not to let it bug you. Your little area is flanked by plenty of other artists, ranging in notoriety. None of them are particularly mainstream, but you’ve heard of a few of them on social media including the one hosting the event.

You’ve only been allowed five pieces tonight, but you know even that is more than nothing. Hanging in the center is the piece Nat had complimented and then gone on to text you about multiple times this week insisting that you include it in the gallery exhibition. You gaze at it as you bounce on the balls of your feet. The gallery should be opening anytime now, and while Nat promised to swing by sometime tonight, you aren’t expecting any other company. Your art has always been something intimate and personal, and you don’t talk about it often. Most people don’t know you paint, and even those who do rarely get a glimpse of your art. Despite your unwillingness to share it with the people in your life, you long for the world to see it, just perhaps not those who know anything about the artist. You tell yourself that you want your paintings to speak for themselves instead of adding to your friends’ perception of you. In reality, you’re probably afraid of criticism, of them seeing the darkest parts of yourself, unveiled and hung on a wall for their scrutiny. What if they don’t like what they see?

The painting of the bay makes your stomach twist. You don’t usually paint scenes from your life, rather using your experiences and emotions and pouring them into whatever your brush creates out of them. This painting feels oddly intimate, but you assure yourself that it shouldn’t. The only person who could possibly recognize it is Javy and he won’t ever see it. To the rest of the world, it’s simply another piece in your collection. Your eyes trace the canvas, slowly but surely making their way to the nondescript figures in the corner. Your heart tugs painfully as you’re taken back to that night, remembering the storm in your head and the way he’d quieted it with a single touch.

��Holy shit, Meep, this is amazing,” you almost think you hear his voice and chuckle to yourself. That is until you hear it again and feel a body step closer to you, the air between you crackling with electricity. “You’re amazing,” you turn in surprise, face transforming as you run through a thousand emotions at once. Shock at his sudden appearance, surprise that he’s here, terror that he’s here, and joy because he’s here. Your lips part in shocked surprise as you stare at Javy, standing next to you, eyes glued to the canvas in front of him, a bouquet of tiger lilies in his arms.

“Javy?” Your voice comes out choked with the emotion you can barely contain. He’s here. What’s he doing here? He turns to you and the strength of his smile almost sends you to your smile. “What? What are you doing here?” You stammer, as your brain fires at a mile a minute as it tries to understand how.

“Meep, as disappointed as I am that you didn’t tell me about this, I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

“B-but how?” Your brain has descended into a world of gray static as you stare at this man standing here, who showed up for you when you didn’t even ask.

“Nat said the gallery opened at 8, but she’s running late because she’s always running late. I would get used to that, by the way, she doesn’t mean anything about it, she’s just always been that way-” You cut him off as you throw your arms around his neck and seal your lips against his.

***

You’re kissing him. Javy’s brain short-circuits. He’d expected a lot of things when he arrived here without an invitation. Nat had mentioned that you’d seemed surprised that she’d even wanted to come, and he was sure you’d already be overwhelmed by the event itself, and even more by Nat’s presence since he knows she can come on strong. Not to mention that it sounded like she essentially invited herself to the event. He knows he’s not much better, but you’ve been entertaining a lot of his antics. You’ve come to games, you’d come with him to the auction, and on top of that, you somehow hadn’t blocked him despite all the silly texts he’s been peppering him with. Not to mention that he wants to be here. He’s wanted to see your art since you first mentioned it, but you’ve never offered. You’re even protective over your home, which he’s realized is at least partially due to your art being all over the living room according to Nat. Today is different. If the public gets to see your art, he should count as a member of the public, right? He’s brought the flowers as a peace offering. That and he can’t erase the look on your face when he gave them to you out of his mind.

He’d expected you to be good, you’re a hard worker and determined. You put your all into everything you do, and he’s sure it would translate to your art as well. He hadn’t expected to be so completely blown away, though. He almost feels silly, having taken you to that auction, paying such high prices for someone else’s art for his home when he’d rather have your work all over his walls. Especially the piece in the center. He recognizes it immediately, the stretch of road off the coast of the bay where he’d been scared he’d lose you before he’d even gotten to know you. The cliffs, the highway the water churning below, are all painted in various shades of dark moody blue, and there in the corner, a pair of indestinct figures locked in an embrace. Suddenly all his feelings are at the front of his mind, and he wonders nervously if maybe you feel for him a fraction of what he feels for you and it sends his heart into a tizzy.

Then there’s the look on your face. He watches every emotion process clear as day as panic slams against his ribcage, afraid of overwhelming you, afraid of hurting you, afraid of ruining your evening, afraid of ruining everything. Then before he can find the words, words to apologize, words to try and calm you in an effort to calm himself, your arms around his neck, and your lips are on his.

He can’t breathe but if this is what not breathing feels like, he never wants to take another breath. Your lips are soft, so damn soft. How does he not remember them being this soft? Though the initial kiss was full of adrenaline-fueled determination, he can feel you begin to falter, your lack of experience threatening to let the nerves win so he kisses you back, meeting your hunger with his own, doing his best to control himself from pinning you against the wall like the piece of art that you are. He lets his hands find your waist, hauling you impossibly close as your fingers twist into the fabric of his turtleneck, holding on for dear life as he kisses it out of you. He guides your lips with his own and you’re the perfect student, as your nerves melt and you let your body respond to him. He registers a sticky texture on your lips and almost groans against your mouth as he recognizes it as the gloss you’d worn to the art show. He’d been desperate to kiss it off you that night and he takes the opportunity to do it now. His tongue darts past his lips to taste it before he can stop himself but your soft whimper in response tells him it’s okay. He almost sinks to his knees right there at the sound.

***

Your brain turns to mush as you feel Javy’s lips move against your own. His hands find your waist in a way that’s simple, perfectly respectable, and yet the force that he’s gripping you threatens to leave bruises on your skin. Secretly you hope he does so you can assure yourself later that this is real, that you’re really kissing Javy Machado. And he’s kissing you back, returning the hunger that’s been stoked to life in your heart. You feel something wet dart against your lips and your eyes almost roll into the back of your head as you realize it’s his tongue. The deep rumble that comes from his chest after that forces a whimper from your throat. Heat washes over your face as you realize but he doesn’t seem deterred or embarrassed, he just pulls you closer and you go like a moth to a flame.

It’s been so long since you’ve kissed someone and meant it. It feels like falling into a fire and somehow coming back to life after burning down to microscopic ashes. Your heart squeezes in your chest as your brain pounds with the realization. He wants you. He wants you back. He wants you too. You want it to last forever, even as you grip Javy’s shirt with a desperacy that screams at him not to slip through your finger. That screams at you not to be the butt of another joke. But you won’t be, not this time, because he wants you. The cynical voice in your head drowned out by each desperate press of your lips. You want it to last forever even as your lungs beg for relief. Your head and heart are at war and you’re not sure how you’ll make yourself choose that is until a voice breaks through the pounding in your ears.

“Really? Come on, you guys, we’re in public for heaven’s sake.” You reluctantly pull away from Javy and your vision spins as you come back down to the ground. You don’t get very far, Javy’s lips chasing yours until he registers the voice. He groans and you suppress the urge to shudder at the rumble of it against your skin as he leans his forehead to your temple as you turn to face Nat who’s standing with her hands on her hips, a playful look of disapproval on her face as she suppresses the giddy grin fighting it’s way to the surface and you follow her gaze to where the bouquet Javy was holding has fallen to the ground and your cheeks heat in embarrassment.

“Fuck off, Nat,” Javy grumbles, pressing a kiss to the side of your face before turning to pepper the nearby skin with dozens of small pecks.

Nat raises a single eyebrow. “This is Roadie’s big night, Javy, come on, let her have her moment.” He groans against your skin, still not moving.

Your eyes widen as Jake appears behind Nat, coming around the corner, followed by Bugs, Zam, Bradley, Dragon, Bob, Mickey, Reuben, and Josie with the kids. You feel tears well in your eyes as Jake approaches and you realize he’s carrying a cake. He grins and you catch sight of the cake. The edge has been decorated to look like a frame and inside are the words, “You’re a Work of Art, Congratulations Roadie!” You don’t realize you’re crying until Javy pulls you against his side and strokes your hair gently.

“Congrats on the gallery spot, Roadie!” Jake says and suddenly you’re surrounded by these people who are slowly but steadily becoming your friends and you’re sobbing harder as each of them hugs you. When you finally get to Nat you throw yourself into her arms and she squeezes you tight.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you sob over her shoulder.

“Welcome home, Roadie,” she whispers back and you hold her tighter.

That’s how your first gallery show that you’d spent the whole week stressed out over turns into a party. Everyone sits down on the floor around your wall and Josie expertly cuts the cake that Zam reveals Bradley made, to which you launch onto him to give him a big hug he instantly stiffens in response to before he relaxes and hugs you back. Mickey brought paper plates and soon you’re all eating cake and chatting, and if the other artists give your group dirty looks, you don’t even notice.

You’re leaning against the wall under your paintings when Javy scoots beside you, shoulder brushing yours. “So, is any of the art here for sale?” He asks and you shake your head, gesturing around the room.

“Not exactly, this is different than an actual sale, but I’m sure some artists end up selling if someone shows up and is willing to pay a good price. We come here for publicity and hopefully to make some connections, but if you sell a painting I’d say it’s a pretty good night.” He nods before turning to you.

“And your art? Is it for sale?” Your eyes widen in surprise.

“My art?” He nods. “You want to buy my art?” You stammer, trying to wrap your head around the idea. “I couldn’t make you pay for my art,” you say, frowning and he pokes your forehead with a finger, soothing the frown away.

“You wouldn’t be making me do anything, I want to. After all,” he gives you a pointed look, “it’s the least you can do after letting me pay $50,000 for what you claimed was the perfect centerpiece for my living room.” You frown again and he reaches up to attempt to smooth it away again.

“I meant that, why, did you not like it once you hung it up?”

He chuckles. “I like it just fine, but not as much as this one,” he moves his finger from your forehead to gesture above him to the cliff painting. Your cheeks warm as you follow his finger.

“Javy…”

“I mean it, Meep. I love that painting, more than anything else we saw last week. I love it even more knowing that you painted it.” He leans his head against yours. “I want to buy it.” He turns then and you feel his nose brush your ear as he whispers, “I want to buy my girlfriend’s painting and have it hanging in my house because that’s where it belongs.”

Your cheeks are burning and you feel dizzy as Javy whispers that word. It feels different somehow and you find your lips repeating it, trying it on, trying to reconcile that it’s real. “Girlfriend?” He nods against you.

“If you’ll have me,” he whispers back and you reach down where his hand is splayed between the two of you and lace your fingers together before you turn slightly so his nose slips against yours.

“I’ll have you,” you whisper against his lips and he shudders. This big, strong, proud, cocky man shudders at your words. You look at him in silent awe, committing every bit of his face to memory. His beautifully smooth skin so close to yours, his eyes so dark and yet so bright, dancing with mirth when he doesn’t notice, and those lips, so full and steady and you marvel at the way they’re slightly swollen, your subtle mark on him.

“Like what you see, Meep?” he asks, his voice a soft exhale like he’s trying to avoid breaking your concentration as you stare at him. You hum in affirmation. You want to paint him, to try and capture his likeness even when you know you’d never be able to do him justice, like taking a picture of the moon.

Nat blows a raspberry at the two of you and Javy squeezes his eyes shut like he’s praying for patience. Your cheeks heat as you’re reminded that you’re not alone. Nat winks at you cheekily and you turn back to the group. Jake looks over and gives you a fond smile that you return shyly. You look around at the people who’ve come into your life over the last week and smile as you think over Nat’s world. Maybe they could be your home after all.

***

Javy’s thigh bounces as he watches the screen of his laptop while the video call rings. He’s been abnormally poor about catching up with his family since he met you. Deep down he knows why, but he’s finally decided he needs to say something. He doesn’t doubt that Isa’s opened her mouth since he told her about you but he’s hoping he’s in time to do some if any damage control. His oldest sister is more than capable of reading him for filth and has done so her own fair share of times over the years. Most of the time he deserves it.

The call finally connects the four faces that pop onto the screen. Isadora’s sitting next to his mother and Javy’s once again stricken by how similar they look. Cecilia and Sophia are perched on kitchen stools behind the older women, but even they’re not little girls anymore and Javy finds himself mourning the days when they still looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. Instead, all four women are wearing the same suspicious look and he heaves a sigh. It’s going to be a long evening.

“Hi Mama,” he starts but before he can continue, her eyes narrow.

“Don’t you ‘hi, mama’ me, Javier,” he swallows, hard. “You haven’t called in almost a month. Don’t think I didn’t notice. I know you’re busy but it looks like you’ve been busier than usual this month.” He swallows, again. “It seems everyone but your own mother knows you have a girlfriend.” She arches a single eyebrow in question and wishes you were here. You’re so much braver than him.

“Fake girlfriend,” Isa clarifies, and Javy closes his eyes as he braces for the onslaught about to come his way.

“Okay but is she a fake girlfriend, if he actually likes her? Doesn’t that just make her a crush, or is that one of those ‘situationship’ things?” Cece pipes up and Phe rolls her eyes.

“Javy doesn’t even know what situationships are, how could he possibly be in one.” Phe points out. His youngest sister has a good point but it doesn’t keep Javy from frowning as Cece gives him a shrewd look.

“Okay, but do you like her, Javy, or did you just tell Isa that as a cover?” Cece asks with an accusatory tone. He suddenly wishes he’d just called every member of his family separately to explain before attempting a group call.

“Why would I even call Isa to ask for help buying her flowers if I didn’t like her? I have female friends, you know.” He points out and Cece rolls her eyes. “I consulted a professional for a reason.”

“And that reason is?” Isa asks even though she knows.

“Look I know what you want me to say but I’m not saying it to you before I say it to her, that’s cheating.”

“Javy, you wouldn’t know cheating if it had its tongue down your throat.” Cece remarks and Javy glares at her even as his stomach roils. She doesn’t know the half of it.

“Well, I’m not saying it, until I tell Roadie, I stand by that. And if you’d let even get two words out, I’d just tell you that she’s my girlfriend. My real girlfriend, not my fake girlfriend, and yes I know the difference. I asked her out yesterday.” He fights the urge to cross his arms defensively as he scowls at the screen. He thinks it might be frozen because for once the figures on the other side don’t say anything.

That is until Cece breaks the silence “And she said yes?” It’s Javy’s turn to roll his eyes and this time he does cross his arms across his chest.

“YES.” They all fall quiet again and then Phe screams. She jumps off her stool and brings her face up close to the camera.

“JAVY HAS A GIRLFRIEND! JAVY HAS A GIRLFRIEND!” Is his youngest sister twenty-six years old? Yes.

“Sophia sit down.” Javy’s smile dies before it fully eclipses his face. Phe returns to her stool, flashing him a supportive smile before his mother speaks again. “Javy, I want the whole truth, not just bits and pieces from you, Isa, and the media.” He swallows, hard. He’s done a lot of regrettable things in his life, but he’s never had to explain them to his mother before.

He fights the urge to squirm in his seat and he’s wishing you were here again. A wet nose nudges his hand he looks down to see Roxy cocking her head at him. He scoops her into his lap, letting his fingers bury themselves in her fur and trying not to wish it was your hair. “So, I… I met Roadie after a game. She came with her friend who’s one of the other guys, Reuben’s wife. I found her wandering around lost after a game, and I thought she was a puck bunny looking for a hookup so I kissed her.” He winces as Cece’s jaw drops and his mom’s and Isa’s mouths tighten into identical thin lines.

Roxy nudges his hand for pets and he continues. “The press somehow managed to get a photo and it started making the rounds. Zam had her come in so I could apologize and we could find out if she wanted to sue, which she would have been well within her rights to do, and instead, we made an agreement. She would pretend to be my girlfriend to help my public image, and I would pretend to be her boyfriend because the school she teaches at has some new backward policy that has her teaching contract renewal hinging on whether she’s in a relationship.” He shakes his head in irritation at the unfairness of your situation all over again.

“So we started fake dating and it turns out she’s amazing. She’s a kindergarten teacher and she’s so good at her job. The kids love her, and you can tell she loves them. She also does art in her spare time,” he pauses then, bends the laptop screen back, and picks up the computer so he can show off the painting hanging behind him. “She painted this,” he explains proudly. “She’s so damn talented.” He sits back down, places the computer back on the coffee table, and Roxy climbs back on his lap. “I fucked up somewhere in the middle. I could tell I was starting to have real feelings for her and I hurt her,” he falls silent, the image of your teary eyes as you pushed past him at the karaoke bar playing before him.

“She helped me realize that there were things I needed to fix, to change. My friends all helped me try and get her back, and she let me back in. We decided to continue the charade as friends but I was already in love with her. It was too late. And then yesterday she kissed me.” He feels hope bubbly giddily up in his stomach. “It's still new and it’s probably too soon to say, but I think she’s the best thing that ever happened to me, and I’m going to fight for her. Not because I deserve her, because she deserves a hell of a lot better than me, but because she chose me, and that’s enough.” He looks back up and sees a small smile on his mother’s face as she watches him. He expects her to say a lot of things, but he doesn’t expect the next words out of her mouth.

“Bring her to Dallas, Javier, I want to meet her.”

A/N: AAA AAAA AAAAAA!!!! I’M LOSING MY MIND!!! It’s been a long time coming~

[thefanficmonster]

Phases

Colby Brock x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Implied Sexual Activity, Paranormal Investigations, Referenced Drinking, Swearing

Genre: Angst with a happy ending, Friends to Lovers, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: They're running through the motions, going through phases. Somehow, they always miss each other. Yet they always come back to each other

NOTE: No hate or disrespect is meant to any of the people mentioned in the story. If you find something wrong in the way I have depicted them please let me know. Just keep in mind that has in no way been my intention.

First it was Shea and Brennen.

Well, first it was Shea and Brennen came along afterwards. Or he was in the wings, so to speak.

Y/N was doing cartwheels to set the two up. She didn't expect she'd land on her head in the end. She didn't realize it until she saw them being openly affectionate with one another.

Realize that she may be a terrible friend despite her attempts.

Sure, she bent over backwards to play matchmaker between Colby and Shea, as a good friend would. But the epiphany that she may not be as happy with the product of her labor as thought she would be hit her like a train, carrying bags upon bags of self-accusations.

Because of course that burning in her gut wasn't jealousy. They're just friends, duh. The two are incredibly happy and head over heels for one another and she, as a good friend, should be happy. Proud even. Glad her efforts paid off.

Yet, she's anything but.

"Get a room already." She'd heard a playful scoff from right next to her, grabbing her attention. She'd been sitting on the ledge of the pool, damp hair curtaining her full view of the love birds across from her.

She looked over to the now occupied spot next to her. There, like a beacon of hope and comfort, sat Brennen. Her best friend. Someone she could always turn to for anything and everything. Someone who'd always catch her in open arms no matter what.

The burning in her gut turned to sickness when the idea lit up her gloomy mind. Not only the idea itself. But how quickly it got conjured up, how quickly a part of her accepted and justified it. Despite how wrong it was. Despite how low it would require her to stoop.

And stoop she did when she let the constant and trademark flirting between her and Brennen turn into something not so unserious.

That's when we're gonna switch the perspective to the other ledge, the one across from theirs. Across the pool. Where Colby and Shea were seated.

It was a hard feat - sulking in his a pit of self-pity while in her company. Shea has always been a ray of sunshine in his life. Platonically, though. He doesn't remember who came up with the concept of their relationship potentially developing into something more nor what prompted such an idea. He just knows Y/N took it and ran with it, strongly believing her best friend was madly in love with this girl and just didn't have the balls to tell her.

She did the most. Coaching him, advising him, lecturing him, hoping to finally push him into confessing feelings she had no clue were nonexistent.

Colby had tried to tell her numerous times but with no success of convincing her. She was adamant that she wanted to come through for him, saying she wanted him to do what she'd been too afraid to do on too many occasions. Which, via an overall observation, could be seen as sweet. If you were to undermine the fact that the feelings she wasn't able to express were meant for him. And that the feelings he was truly feeling were toward her. With that in mind, it's a very overdone rom-com plot.

Her reservations regarding his relationship with Shea were replicated and planted right into his chest when he first saw Brennen with his arm around Y/N's shoulders, the gesture lacking the slight platonic distance this time around.

But he knew he had no right. He viewed it as the universe showing him in a plain and cruel way that he's a coward and practically watched his train depart without making an effort of getting on it. He was aware he was grasping at straws with both his relationship and hers. There was nothing to complain about between him and Shea. She was and always will be such a lovely person. The only gripe was the fact that he went into that relationship out of defeat - seeing Y/N so eager and excited to set him up with someone else just cemented what he already feared: she felt for him none of what he felt for her. And so, continuing along his cowardly ways, he gave in. Which was so far from what Shea deserved.

Just like Brennen didn't deserve to be a second best.

He treated Y/N as nothing less than royalty. He was an incredible friend to her for as long as they've known each other and an even better boyfriend once they agreed to put a serious label on their relationship. To him, she meant the world. To her, this whole thing was just a ton of guilt she couldn't stomach. How he'd ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time to get caught up in her bullshit she'll never know. She wishes the universe was kinder to him and didn't throw him in the jaws of her self-loathing but alas maybe he was the saving grace she needed all along to get over Colby.

Yeah, well that was wishful fucking thinking.

To nobody's surprise, neither relationship stayed afloat for long.

Unlike Shea and Colby however, nothing really changed between Brennen and Y/N. The two's nearly decade long friendship withstood the year of their relationship without batting an eye. The break up wasn't so much a permanent full stop to anything potentially romantic between them. More so a delay, a postponing. Y/N couldn't deny the feelings that bloomed for him but she couldn't pretend they stemmed from upmost honesty either. She was aware her best friend deserved that honesty so until she could cleanse her system of a particular someone, she decided she would stop dragging him down with her.

But it would be so unlike Brennen to not stick around by her side regardless.

Colby and Shea distanced themselves quite a bit though. And the guilt was eating away at him. He'd pushed her away with his hollowness and numbness but didn't have the backbone to actually put an end to it. He was - for a lack of a better term - quite relieved when she took that weight off his shoulders and did it herself.

"I can't have a long distance relationship with someone sitting right next to me, Colby. I can't stand the way you look at me with that thousand yard stare. Like you're fucking miles away." Every word was spot-on for how their relationship had been transpiring as of recent.

And every word was further confirmed by how Colby could do nothing but blink and nod somewhat absentmindedly while Shea bared her soul.

He knew she deserved better from the start. In that moment he was made cruelly aware that he was so far away from what she deserved, he was practically a punishment.

But did either Colby or Y/N learn their lesson after that?

Of course they fucking didn't.

Because then comes the sequel: Amber and Nate.

It's lightyears away from Y/N's proudest moment everything that happened that summer when Nate moved to LA. And same goes for Colby and his whoring around at parties and afterparties alike. His reckless behavior - all witnessed by Y/N in real time, by the way - was actually the main catalyst that sent this second chapter of idiocy in motion.

That's not to say that Nate didn't have plenty of cards playing in his favor. He's attractive, charming, kind, responsible. He was in many ways the embodiment of all the attributes Colby had lost in Y/N's eyes. He was a walking green flag and she knew just little enough about him to pursue something. Anything to get her mind off the unchained party animal Colby had turned into.

It's not like Colby was unaware of his antics. The worst part that he was never drunk enough to justify his bullshit. His liver could only handle so much so he was always at least half sober. Yet he was still wilding out to the point that Sam felt obligated to keep him in check, turning their dynamic upside down.

Most nights Sam wouldn't have even a sip of alcohol to prevent letting his guard down. He didn't trust his best friend to be able to look out for himself in the slightest. Given that he was sober practically 90% of the time, he was the first to pick up on the building sexual tension between Nate and Y/N.

"They're cute and all, but they should just fuck already." He'd laughed as he accompanied Colby to the bar so he could force him to down a glass of water.

Water he almost choked on and spit out when the words Sam said processed in his brain. Following his gaze, he found a sight that nearly cleaned his stomach of all the alcohol he'd consumed that night. Nate and Y/N were omitting all subtlety as they danced together across the club. There was no room to question their intentions for one another.

It would be rather hypocritical of Colby to clutch his pearls and be a prude over a simple one night stand between his friends. He was actually hoping it'd remain as that - a one-time thing.

He was let down quite rudely when the two announced they were officially dating about a week later.

And, as the pattern goes: enter Amber.

Ok, that's just some dramatic flare, she'd been there all along.

She had been there for Colby the way Brennen was for Y/N during the previous phase. She too found herself at the wrong place at the wrong time and faced the same fate of being a second best.

It would be three long years before both relationships would come to an end. These two a lot less calm in their conclusion.

For Y/N and Nate it was three years well spent, but also down the drain. It was an unfortunate case of two people traveling in opposite directions. Nate could see them together for years to come. But Y/N couldn't do that. Not to him and not to herself. The immense pain and heartbreak this break up brought on cemented some distance between them although they were both adamant they didn't want to lose one another. And so it's remained, they're still close friends with lingering feelings sticking around.

On the other side of the spectrum were Colby and Amber. Their relationship did not end so quietly and calmly. In fact it blew up, going up into the flames of their endless petty fights. In that fire burned up their friendship also. They lost all that connected them. They lost everything. The break up was the far lesser evil than staying together.

You'd think each with a three year relationship under their belt, their feelings for each other would have faded by this point. For a while that's what they wanted to believe.

"It is what it is." Colby said, handing her a beer as he took a seat next to her on the pool ledge.

She accepted it with a small, sad smile, "It is what it is." She agreed, swishing around the clear pool water with her feet as she rested her head on his shoulder.

It always came back to this. Three years ago after phase one, they found themselves there and now history was repeating itself. At the end of each chapter, they'd always find their way to one another, seeking comfort in each other's company. They are best friends, after all, but they also seemed to be running through the same motions at the same time. They lived on two sides of the same coin regarding romance, unaware they were practically prompting on another.

And Sam saw it all. That night too, when he came downstairs for a late night snack and peered out in the backyard. There he saw his two best friends, enjoying a quiet moment of mutual understanding. It got a little too perfectly coincidental for him to even believe it was a coincidence anymore. The patterns were too perfect, too alike. The timelines were adding up too well.

But he said nothing. He knew better than to try. He's never met more stubborn people in his life. He was just left to hope that eventually they'd find their way to each other permanently. Not for comfort or understanding, but for forever and always.

Phase three would soon commence, again following a pattern. Summer. Parties. Drinking. This time Y/N was just as engaged in the insanity of LA parties as Colby. In fact, he was the one slowly pulling out of that lifestyle. He needed to keep a level head to prevent his best friends - yes, Sam was back to his wild ways also - from making bad decisions.

Yet he just stood and watched, almost frozen, as Y/N was making another big mistake to kick-start the third installment of their trilogy.

That mistake being Seth.

This time is different, however. There's nothing romantic going on there. Anyone with two eyes and a brain could see that. It was purely physical. Just sex, just momentary relief. No strings were attaching them other than shallow attraction and occasionally alcohol.

All Sam and Colby could do was watch. They wouldn't want to make the wrong move and come across as babying Y/N. The previous couple months had made her emotionally unpredictable and they didn't want to lose her due to her continuously shortening temper.

But Colby couldn't just stay away and observe her slipping through his fingers. So, he let her go and found himself in the company of Stas. Another mutual friend, much like Seth. And he was wholeheartedly hoping she'd be the one, that it would last. That it wouldn't be another repetition of old ways.

Oh if only...

That's where we are now, half a year later with two loose relationships over which hangs the question 'what are we?'. None of the parties know. Or at least they don't want to.

The comfort Y/N was seeking in the nonchalant rendezvous with Seth has now become bitterness. She wanted someone to have and to hold, not someone that was gone minutes after the deed was done. To be frank, she's not sure if she even wanted him to stick around. There's nothing colder than an insincere embrace. She had her blankets to keep her warm, she didn't need Seth. She's been joking with Kat that at this point she needs a lobotomy.

Kat, much like Sam, has started taking not of the patterns. Of the perfect coincidences. Of the reason none of their relationships worked out in the end, no matter how wonderful they appeared all throughout. Shea and Colby were adorable, no one saw or could pin point where it all went wrong. There was a bit more understanding to Brennen and Y/N's situation. Their friendship was just stronger than their romance and that's what they picked. Amber and Colby were great, until they weren't,. Until the petty bickering and fights started. Until tensions got high and they could no longer even look each other in the eye. Nate and Y/N were the couple everyone was certain would eventually put a ring on it. It was quite the shock to find out they'd decided to break up. Once again, no one could pinpoint why.

Now, it's Seth and Stas' turn. Only time will tell if the pattern will take hold again.

"What's up guys, it's Sam and Colby!" Colby starts the intro to the video they're filming as per usual.

"Today, we'll be diving into the dark history of Savannah Penitentiary. This monstrosity of a building behind us." Sam picks up on his usual cue, turning to point at the indeed both ginormous and hideous building behind the group.

"It's gonna be a long night." Josh says through a nervous laugh, unaware just how right his prediction would prove to be later on.

So, in they go. It would be rude to keep the spirits waiting.

* * * * * *

Well the spirits sure as hell didn't keep them waiting. Even during the tour, they were very adamant on letting the group know they were present and waiting for the opportunity to talk. Bangs, knocks, taps, footsteps - each sound sending the five huddling just a bit closer together.

Sam and Colby always made it a priority to keep their guests feeling safe and comfortable on these investigations. That was - and still is - the case when they first managed to convince Y/N to tag along with them. Now she's no longer a guest but a staple of their videos, having become a fan-favorite within her first investigation. Still, her comfort and safety was of upmost importance to them. She's grown thicker skin to the paranormal over time but they're all only human and there are very few things more human than fear.

That, however, doesn't mean she's absolved of the trademark Sam and Colby solo investigations. This time she just happened to be the unlucky last on nose-goes which sent her path into the woods next to the penitentiary with nothing but a camera and an EMF meter.

"Fuck you all! I'll fucking haunt you when whatever's out there kills me." Y/N flipped Sam and Colby - and by extension Seth and Josh - the finger before making her venture out into the eerie and all too noisy night, turning on night-vision on her camera.

That's where she is now, minding each and every step with the very little visibility her camera is providing her. "This fucking sucks." She mumbles to herself, taking a drag from the cigarette she lit to calm her nerves. She's never one to publicly chicken out but she is most definitely panicking internally. So much so that a clap of thunder makes her jump and almost drop the EMF.

"Is no one here or do you just not wanna talk to me?" Y/N says, her voice louder now. She secures the cigarette between her lips to properly show the device to the camera. Nothing. Literal crickets. "Is it cause I'm a woman? Shawn told us you're not very fond of women." She attempts again, referencing what their tour guide had said earlier.

And it proves successful when the light flicks up to yellow.

"I see." She rolls her eyes as she stomps out her cig, "Well could you please refrain from being mean because I'm not just gonna stand here in this oncoming storm for you to give me nothing in return. The people want to hear what you have to say. This is your chance. Can you make this device in my hand light up if you're willing to talk to me?"

For a split second, it does light up. Almost as though the spirits are begrudgingly agreeing to converse with a woman.

"Ok great." She smiles in success, "I'll ask you yes/no questions. Light my device up for yes, ok? Or maybe give me a more obvious sign?" The EMF lights up to orange this time, scaring her briefly but it's showing progress. "Alright." Right on time as well because the first rain drops have just hit her skin. No rain will get her to move now, though. She has spirits to talk to.

Back inside the even colder halls of the penitentiary, more specifically in the basement cell unit, is Colby. He's pacing around with a frustratingly inactive Ovilus.

He's flipped the entire basement to find at least a pocket of activity and has been slapped in the face with paranormal rejection each and every time. With the quiet spell having taken over, the moment the Ovilus came to life was quite the mini heart attack.

"Woman?" Colby reads the word on the screen after recovering, his brows furrowed as he tries connecting the word to anything they've learned throughout the night. And then it clicks, or at least he thinks it does. "Are you talking about nurse Helen? Was she the one who killed you?"

Earlier during the tour, the guide showed them the medical wing where a particularly malicious spirit resided. Nurse Helen. She was a mean older woman who exuded her own justice on the inmates by method of 'medical mistake' or 'accident' which 99% of the time resulted in the death of the inmates she was supposed to tend to.

Another quiet spell before the Ovilus sounded one more word: 'Woods'.

"Huh..." Colby's initial idea is now null and void. He tries drawing a connection between the words. The conclusion comes a lot quicker this time around, coupled with a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder just as a downpour starts.

The woman in the woods.

Y/N.

Seconds later he's running up the stairs to the ground floor, breaking the rule of the solo investigation with five minutes left on the clock. He runs out in the pouring rain, using his phone flashlight for guidance because he'd left his camera in the lobby. He has no indication of where she could be exactly. The woods take up a huge portion of the property and they're paced with closely planted trees that hinder his visibility futher.

After a solid minute of no sign from her, he decides to just call out to her.

It's safe to say all color drains from Y/N's body when she hears her name echo around her through the sound of the downpour. Sounds of leaves crunching follow which serve only to further terrify her. It isn't until the second time the voice rings out calling to her that she recognizes the voice as Colby's and calls back, hoping to God it's actually him.

"Yeah?! What is it?!" She inadvertently turns off the camera and brings it down to her side, her arm sore from holding it up. She fumbles to find her phone in her pocket and shine its flashlight in the direction his voice is coming from. Just in time to illuminate Colby, soaked to the bone, much like herself.

"Oh thank God you're ok." He sighs, panting to catch his breath, resting his hands on his hips to stabilize himself and let the assurance of her well-being sink in.

"Why wouldn't I be?" She asks, pushing her damp hair to the side, pulling up the hood of her hoodie over her head, taking a couple steps toward him. She lifts his bowed head with a finger under his chin, forcing their eyes to meet. "Hey, hey...I'm ok. Relax. Everything's ok. What happened?"

In that moment, it's clear as day even in the pitch black rainy night, that these two will never find a bridge that will help them get over one another. There's no getting over what they want to be, what they could be. They may run through phases all their life and continuously miss each other.

But something will always bring them back to this. These pure, raw, intimate moments between them. Moments perfectly constructed for them to finally spit out what's been plaguing them for literal years. But they may never actually...

"I thought you were in danger. I thought...." He inhales sharply, calming himself and forcing the stuck words out, "I didn't want anything to happen to you."

Y/N gives him a smile unsure of if it's meant to reassure him or if it's just a display of how his words are making her feel. "Nothing happened, Colbs. I'm ok. I was having a nice conversation with whoever is here. Nothing's wrong. I wasn't in danger. But thank you. The fact that you came here to check on me means a lot." She lowers her hands to take hold of his ice cold ones, instinctively bringing them up to her lips to blow some warm air onto them. "You're fucking freezing, you dumbass." She laughed, pulling down the hoodie sleeves she had rolled up to cover his hands too.

His skin might be cold as ice but his heart just swelled three times its size, a small fire having been lit inside it. And it's spreading throughout his whole chest, his whole body. He can't contain it. Not the fire and not the urge to kiss her.

So he does.

And pulls back just as quickly, fearful that he'd just ruined a decade of friendship. He came out to these woods out of fear he might lose her to an uncertain danger but he may have just lost her because of his own inability to suppress his feelings any longer.

He's just about to apologize when she pulls him down by the collar of his hoodie, their lips clashing once more.

Remember what I said about their shitty situation being a classic rom-com plot? This is the perfect ending to that movie, is it not? We've seen it many times on big and small screens alike. It may be an ending to the movie but it's just the beginning of something new.

The end of the phases, the undoing of the patterns.

The start of that forever and always they were seeking with other people because they thought they could never get it with each other.

And no one's happier to see it than Sam. He witnesses it via a perfect parallel two nights later - going down to grab a late night snack and peering out in the backyard to see his best friends sitting on the pool ledge, beers all but forgotten by their sides as they are lost in each other. Their eyes, touch, scent, kisses. All they'd been starving each other of for so many years.

Seeing this, Sam knows what he has to do.

"Get a room already!" He shouts, chucking a kitchen towel at the couple, startling them into almost toppling over into the pool.

There it is - the perfect circle. It always comes back to this very pool with them two.

This time however, it's actually perfect. Because they are finally each other's. Officially, that is. He's been hers and she's been his for longer than anyone could've imagined. But none of that matters now.

Their lives are finally perfectly complete.

[skzhua]

a price i'm willing to pay | part 14 - the sparklers.

MASTERLIST

pairing: ceo!bang chan x entrepreneur!reader

genre: social media!au, arranged marriage, fake relationship, fluff, angst.

warnings: swearing, alcohol.

summary: following a scandal threatening the survival of your business, you have no choice but to associate yourself with a competitive company.

"Wonhee will be there!" you exclaimed as you tossed your phone away.

Both Hyunjin and Minho looked at you curiously. "Who?" Hyunjin asked.

Minho was quick to hit his arm, causing the man to wince at the touch. "You've met her before, don't act like you don't know who she is."

"I would but I genuinely have no idea."

"Y/N's sister," Chan informed as he joined the three of you with a clipboard in hands. "We saw her at the bar last time we went."

"Right," Hyunjin hummed with a frown.

"Alright," Chan continued. "Hyunjin, we still have the pictures with Lix to take and then your part will be over. Jisung?"

The assistant hurried to his boss and smiled. "Here."

"Could you and Changbin change the background?"

Your best friend let out a grunt. "Again?"

"Do you want me to forgive you or not?" you said with a glare and it was plenty to shut him off and make him join Jisung at the task.

Things were advancing well with the campaign. You had much more positive feedback, even if many still believed you had tried to poison your clientele. Nonetheless, people were loving seeing you and Chan interact in such ways that they would have never thought of seeing ever. Still, he remained very unpleasant towards you, but you weren't any better so it was a fair game.

"Hair and makeup done!" Felix cheered as he walked in the studio, his GoPro pointed towards himself. "Y/N has chosen beautiful colours as you can see," he showed his eye makeup. "And, of course, Chan's new cream was used for my skin."

"Do you ever stop filming?" Jisung rolled his eyes.

"And we have our beloved Jisung who seem to be pretty grumpy this afternoon."

They continued to bicker in the background which made you chuckle as you moved on with sorting products out. You peeked at your checklist to make sure you had everything you needed and began to check the items. It wasn't long after that Chan leaned next to you on the table. With his rolled up sleeves of his black buttoned shirt, he perked an eyebrow as he watched you intensely. You did your best to ignore him but the man was not budging.

"Can't you see I'm busy?" you said between your teeth.

"Busy doing something totally unnecessary. Might I say, Y/N, I am disappointed," he said in a cheeky way.

"I prefer double-checking and being organized, is that so wrong?"

He shrugged. "I just think you're wasting time. Besides, the guys have the makeup on already. What's the point in checking?"

"In case we forgot, we can still put it– Why am I even bothering to explain this to you?" you groaned, dropping the list on the table and walking off.

This might have been the tenth encounter of this sort that you'd had with him today and knowing he was still going to be around until late at night, this was not encouraging in any way. Perhaps backing out and staying at home was a better option.

But having Wonhee as a sister meant she had to force you to come along, especially since you were the one to invite her technically. After you had went back home, washed up and changed, you were walking to the club with your arms linked. Jeongin was the one to change the destination, arguing that it would be more fun than a regular restaurant with alcohol on the side.

"So how many are we going to be exactly?" Wonhee questioned you as you were getting closer to your destination.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you counted in your mind. "Let's see... Well, Bin and Minho obviously so them plus us is four. Jeongin, that makes us five. Chan and his staff, so that's now eight... And with Hyunjin and Felix, that makes us ten," you smiled.

Your sister, however, looked at you doubtfully. "Chan's staff... Does it mean..?"

You chuckled. "Yes, Seungmin will be there."

She stopped on her tracks right away. "You didn't think of telling me that?"

"When I said everyone would be there, I thought it obviously implied Seungmin."

"Y/N, I can't meet him like this!" she shouted while looking down at her outfit.

"You look fine," you rolled your eyes.

Forcefully, you dragged her all the way to the club as she babbled about how ugly she looked — though she was very much adequately dressed for the occasion. As you walked in, it didn't take long for you to spot the tall Hyunjin who was chatting with the one you dreaded to see once again. Chan had, for once, decided to let go of his usual dark attires and wore a tight white shirt with oversized pants. His hair was slicked back and he adorned his ears with silver jewellery. You couldn't deny he looked fine as hell, especially with the lighting that emphasized the veins on his arms. The way he was leaning on the table and taking a few sips of his drink was insanely attractive.

"You're staring," Wonhee commented and you glared at her.

"I spotted Hyunjin, that's all."

She definitely did not believe you and was about to make another remark until her eyes fell upon Seungmin. Instantly, she froze on the spot with a gulp.

"Who's staring now?" you laughed and it was her turn to glare.

"And the Ko sisters have arrived!" Jeongin exclaimed as he came to join you along with Minho, engulfing you two into his embrace. "I managed to reserve a table for everyone."

He led you to where you had previously stared at and didn't let you say a thing before sitting you down next to Chan. You were about to get up and yell at your friend but a hand grabbed your wrist to pull you back down. Again, you were seated and Chan's grasp moved from your wrist to your shoulder.

"What-"

He put a finger on your mouth, shushing you. "There are people around, we're a couple right now."

As you scanned the club, you saw how some people had stopped to greet Hyunjin and Jeongin while others took pictures. Right, you were surrounded with well-known models. You hesitantly snuggled into his embrace before he placed a small peck on the top of your head. It took everything in you to not puke right there and then.

"Get a room," Felix joked as he sat on your other side. "Since when do you kiss her?"

Chan sighed. "It wasn't a kiss. Don't you have more important things to do instead of judging me?"

"I do, you're right. So? Who's paying tonight? I need to get myself something to drink."

Seungmin joined in and took his credit card out. "I don't mind paying this time."

This caused Wonhee's eyes to glow and she rushed to the man. "Seungminnie, could I get something too?"

"Of course," he said with a smirk.

You noticed Minho — who had watched the interaction with much displeasure — rolling his eyes with one hand in his pocket and the other holding his newly bought cocktail. Poor guy.

"Could you please order my drink as well, Felix?" you asked the man as he snatched Seungmin's card out of his hand.

"Yeah, what do you want?"

To this, Chan's eyes darkened at his friend. Before you could give your answer, he spoke for you. "I'll pay for her drink, you may go."

Felix gulped, getting slightly scared of his friend, but nodded before walking to the bar. You scoffed at your fake-lover and removed his arm that laid on your shoulder.

"You really are a pain in the ass," you grunted.

"I should be the one paying for you, don't you think?"

"I can pay for myself."

He scoffed. "You say that now but asked for Felix to get you something with Seungmin's card. You had no issue with that."

"It's Seungmin, not you."

With that, you stood up and headed towards where Minho was as he was the furthest away from the man you despised so much. As he saw you approaching with fuming ears, his eyes widened.

"Woah, don't be mad at me, I did nothing," he hurried to say with his hands up.

"Where's Changbin?"

"No idea, he disappeared when we arrived."

You groaned out of frustration. "Great, it's always when I need him that he disappears."

Minho faked being hurt. "Am I not a good enough? You really prefer Changbin over me?" he cried.

You deadpanned at him. "Shut up, I'm pissed and he's the only one who can calm down. Besides, you're pissed as well, you wouldn't be much help."

"I'm not pissed," he muttered under his breath.

"Yeah, right. Don't tell me seeing my sister all over Seungmin doesn't fill you with anger."

That shut him up real quick and he pouted while sipping on his alcohol. From afar, the two of you looked miserable. You watched people on the dancefloor with a bored stare. It took only a few minutes for Chan to find you again and you couldn’t help but groan again.

“I’m going to find Changbin.”

Minho nodded at your statement as to say “good luck” and you took off. It was hard to walk through the sweaty crowd but, eventually found your best friend discussing with a woman who had definitely drank more than she could handle. He was quick to meet eyes with you and abandon the lady upon seeing how displeased you looked.

“What did I miss?” he asked while you stole his beer, drinking it in one go. “Woah, take it easy!”

“I won’t when this bastard is up in my ass.”

He sighed. “You can’t be saying this here.”

“Why? Because we are in public? Weren’t you the first one to disagree with this?”

“I was but it doesn’t mean I don’t care about how a small thing can ruin you again.”

You scoffed. “I’m only speaking the truth. Now, where can I get a shot?”

Changbin didn’t want to comply to your demands as he knew you would get yourself so drunk to the point you wouldn’t be able to stand. At the same time, you were so stubborn that it was impossible to get in your way sometimes. Felling guilty already, he brought you to the nearest bar and ordered four shots for the two of you. You chugged them not even a second after getting a hold of them. Wincing at the strong liquor, you still ordered one more, and one more after.

“How many has she had?” Jeongin asked in a concerned voice, watching you dance clumsily with Changbin.

“Who?” Chan said as he hadn’t really been observing what was going on.

“Your girlfriend,” Wonhee laughed as she pulled her phone out to capture the moment in a video. “Oh, she’s so going to hate me for this.”

Chan’s head shot up from his nearly empty glass to try and find you. When he did, his eyes widened at the sight. With your rosy cheeks, you were smiling admirably to your best friend who was trying his best to keep you up on your feet. He was glad you were not alone but the way you were holding to one another didn’t look as if you were only friends. It bothered him. Only because of your arrangement, of course. Before he was thinking, his body got up from his seat and he walked towards you. Without saying a thing, he separated you from Changbin and took over with holding you. You were probably too drunk to even process the change of dance partner, but Changbin only removed himself silently. He wouldn’t bother with protesting anyway; Chan’s eyes were enough to make him want to pee himself right there and then.

“How many did you drink?” he said into your ear, and you shivered.

“I don’t know.”

“I think you had too much.”

You pouted at him. “It’s your fault.”

“Mine? You were the one storming off.”

“Because you were annoying,” you cried, which made him sigh.

He dragged you all the way back to the table where the others were drinking reasonably. He sat you next to your sister, but she wasn’t much of a help. If anything, she was only laughing at your physical state and taking pictures. Sighing again, he took it upon himself to get you water to sober up. You already seemed to be a little better.

“They’re selling cakes with sparklers if it’s your birthday!” Felix said enthusiastically while pointing at the corner of the club. “We should get some.”

At this, you pushed the glass of water away from you and clapped. “Oh, for sure!”

Chan mentally cursed at himself before glaring at Felix. “Do you really want to fake a birthday only to get some cheap sparklers?”

You slapped his chest and his eyes widened from the contact. “They’re pretty.”

“So am I and you have me for free.”

Felix and Seungmin held back a laugh while you simply shrugged. “I’m getting some whether you like it or not.”

Before he could stop you, you were off with Felix, Seungmin and Wonhee to get sparklers. Who the fuck were selling these things in a club anyway? It was bound to be a disaster. He wondered if he should at least follow to keep an eye on you but the decision was quickly made when he saw you stumble on your feet, almost falling.

You felt a pair of arms holding you and you frowned. "Why do you have to act like I can't do things on my own?" you whined.

"Y/N, you almost fell face first."

Grumbling disapprovals, you still grabbed onto him for safety until you were at the cake counter. Felix was the one to discuss with the girl in charge of the cakes and they argued a bit as she noticed it was none of you's birthday. As they keot on bickering, Chan rolled his eyes as he knew he had to step in.

"Excuse me?" he cleared his throat grabbing the woman's attention.

The moment she saw he had just spoken, her posture straightened. "Mr. Bang," she almost whispered. "What an honour to have you here!"

"I understand my friends do not fit into your criterias for the cakes but I swear they only really want to play with the sparklers."

"I'm sorry, sir, but sparklers in a club-"

"I'll take them outside for when we lit them up, I promise."

By magic, this did the trick and the woman gave you about thirty of them. Seungmin went to get the others and you all went outside to lit them up. You, Felix and Jeongin were the most excited about them while Chan and Changbin were the most worried. Nonetheless, you took Minho's lighter from him as soon as he took it out of his pocket and hurried yourself to lit your sparklers up.

You admired them for what seemed to be an eternity until you ran out of them. Hyunjin declared this was enough for the night as he still had work to do the following day. The rest ended up agreeing and you all walked home.

"I'll take her," Chan said to Changbin who was not willing to let you go.

"I'm the assigned person to take her home."

"It'll be weird if a man other than her lover does it."

Changbin, for once, didn't budge. "Listen, Bang. I get you two have this thing for publicity but she is in a vulnerable state right now. While I do get your point, you're not the one who has known her for eight years and been there when she needed someone the most. Don't think because you are supposedly her boyfriend that you get to take this from us."

And he left with you.

This might have come from a deeper place than simply getting you home but Changbin had had enough. He couldn't risk you getting hurt by this man. Especially not when he had noticed how you were warming up to him.

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Copyright © 2024 skzhua. All rights reserved.

[urfavlarry]

Male!Carmilla Carmine x gn!reader

warnings: bad grammar, swearing

A/N: This one is a bit short sorryy 😭

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Being a worker at one of the most powerful overlords company really was.. something. Especially when you were the CEOs most trusted assistant. You handled almost everything; scheduling meetings, working on paperwork, working on the new ideas the boss has and go to meetings with the boss and his daughters. You’ve worked there ever since you could remember, taking care of his daughters since they were little. You liked the job, but it was tiring and you had to deal with really.. how can you say it lightly.. idiots. People constantly doubted you and your skills or just toyed with you as if you were some side whore they could use.

“He’s only keeping you around for your looks.”

“He doesnt think you’re skilled”

“When he gets bored of you he will just kill you off.”

Those are some things you hear at least once a week. But you learned to ignore it. You knew your boss had a bit of a temper, but you knwo he cares about his people more than anything, especially his daughters. He was hardworking and he was a passionate person, always coming up with ideas and working day and night. It didn’t have to look like it but he cared about most of his employees, yet you were told he favored you more so over the others, but you didn’t really see it.

Today was a particularly busy day, you were buried in the depths of paperwork and you were just counting down the papers and prayed you hopefully finish at 1am at least. It was 2 hours after your shift and your hand ached from all the writing and your eyes were drooping. A sudden knock on the door wakes you up and every bit of sleepiness leaves your body in an instant. You straighten yourself and dust off your clothes and yell a weak “come in”. And there he was, your boss. He had a stern look on his face and he walked up to your desk. He eyes you closely and a low voice with an Italian accent starts to speak; “Y/N, would you mind telling me what time it is?” He says and circles around you like a shark watching his prey. “1:43am, sir.” You say and look down at the almost finished pile of papers. He sighs and crosses his arms over his chest; “And could you kindly explain to me why the hell you are still working?” You stumble over your words and make up a really weak excuse and he looks at you unamused; “Sir I’ll just fini—”“Ah, ah. The only thing you are finishing is working. Pack up and go home before I make you leave myself, and we wouldn’t want that would we?” He says and ushers you out of your office, making you comply since he did have a bit of a temper. “Oh and Y/N I have a meeting tommorow with some company, they want me to model my products or something I could have cared less what those idiots had to say.” He says and walks with you to the exit of the company, his hand on your waist, pulling you closer to his body. “I’ll have to leave the other responsobilities to you while I’m gone, but I’m sure you can handle it, that’s why you’re my asistant.” He says a bit too smoothly as it made your stomach turn.

Your face feels a bit hot and he spins you around, smirking down at you. “But, maybe you could come to my office after I get back.” You stutter over your words and you internally slap yourself; “Sir but that would be after my shift.” He shrugs and dips you, face inches away from yours. “Then I guess I’ll have to pay you extra for the service hm? Amore mio~” His hands wander up to your cheek and pulls you closer, your lips touching. His lips were a bit rough, your soft ones moving in sync with his. You pull away when you suddenly hear a voice calling for him, needing him urgently. He mumbles some swears under his breath but calms down and pulls you up. He kisses your cheek and smiles, something he doesn’t really do often. “Good night la mía vita~” He says and leaves you on the streets of hell.

You walk to your apartment and kick off your shoes, finally relaxing in bed when you feel something in your pocket; a piece of paper. It was a phone number written in neat handwriting and you smile, quickly adding it into your phone.

“xxx-xxx-xxx-xxx

- Can’t wait to hear your lovely voice Amore~”

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 45 (Improving the Clinic)

QUESTION: Why is it so difficult to raise the clinic's rating? Has anyone ever gotten it to five stars? How??

Brindleton Pawspital was steadily improving, but every day at work was hard. Heather now had three vet techs who improved their skills every day (even Marcus Flex!), but they all had a long way to go to catch up to Heather.

She still worked long hours, earning more four-star reviews and increasing her clinic's reputation. But four stars wasn't five and left plenty of room for improvement, so she set to work upgrading the décor to add to the ambiance. She added a box of pet toys and an espresso machine in the lobby, new artwork, and better couches. Conrad liked to send her flowers, and the arrangements always brightened up her office.

She placed a community board by the edge of the square and installed a unique statue crafted from bird feathers found by her cats. A vendor at the docks traded for it when she'd collected twelve different bird feathers. He said it was a Spotted Sixam bird, but her mother was an astrobotanist and she'd never heard of one before. Nonetheless, she displayed the local artwork proudly outside her clinic.

At the end of another successful workday, she convened with Kaori Hayashi, her best vet tech, to discuss her newest hire. "Do you think Rico will be able to get his skills up as naturally as you did?"

Kaori shrugged. "He's great with the animals but he's a bit slow yet. But he's enthusiastic, and keeping him away from Marcus for most of the day was pretty smart!"

Marcus was still prone to take too long on his exams, even if he was getting better. "I don't want Rico learning how to do everything the hard way. Thanks for taking him under your wing."

"It's no problem, Doc. Oh, by the way: Petcare keeps sending emails about raising our prices." Kaori smirked as Heather rolled her eyes. As important as it was for her to raise money for the buyout, she was well known for quality service and products at reasonable prices. She didn’t want to change for Petcare or Landgraab Corp.

"They think if they just keep sending price suggestion emails, I'll suddenly stop ignoring them," she scoffed. "We can raise enough to buy them out without making the clients pay more."

"There is one thing we could try. I saw it on Simdit a while ago, but a friend of mine has a connection to this old armour-maker from Tartosa. His suits of armour actually make people so happy they drop more money. He says businesses always notice better ratings once they put them in every room."

"Sometimes I feel like nothing I do can improve our rating, no matter how successful we are." Heather sighed. "Do the statues really work that well?"

"My friend swears they're really special."

"A suit of armour seems so out of place in a vet clinic..."

"He says people like what they like, and they like these statues! Besides, when have you ever really cared about aesthetics?"

She had a point there. "How much do they cost?"

"They're expensive," she said, pulling out that f%$@*& lump of clay. "Probably eight or nine thousand simoleons apiece."

Heather cringed. "The clinic doesn't have near that kind of money right now."

"I don't blame you for not jumping at the chance. It sounds like a crazy idea, but my friend's a good dude. I trust him on this, but maybe you should focus on paying off the Landgraabs first."

Heather was proud of the way she was running the clinic. If she worked hard and saved properly, she'd be rid of Nancy and her company sooner than later.

There was little she wanted more. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

[villain-menagerie]

Honestly, the most red flag thing isn't even the trailer or name change, but the tryhard overpositivity over smallest things

It reminds me of so many bad games and movies where creators knew the product was shit but still had to sell it so they overhyped it so much it's almost comical (Lion King remake, Alien Marines game, Dragon Age 2, etc... "Wha Happen" and a lot of other YouTube documenatires really showed me how common it is)

"it's about the team!! You'll see it when you meet them!! It's such a focus on team!! It's special!!! We pinky swear guys :))))))"

Okay, you changed the name, whatever, you could've just said it's a creative decision or better marketability or whatever, I wouldn't give half of a thought to name change I do now if Bioware wasn't bringing extra attention to it

If I wanted to bring up the real issue with name change is that it's an indicator that the development was so bad that they had no idea what game was gonna be called (and about) till last second since they changed their tune from "it's about Solas!!!" to "actually Solas isn't the main part of it" pretty late

"the best companions of the entire series!!! trust us!!!"

Okay, companions look alright, but what's with the constant insistence that these are "the best companions of the entire series" and that they have "unique stories, abilities and choices" that affect them??? Did old companions not have "unique stories" and abilities that affect them????

Why not just say sth about "continuing Bioware's legacy of writing strong, compelling and memorable" companions with "fun combat abilities"????? Why insult previous companions by implying they're not as good????? Is this the same "Hawke is the most important person in Dragon Age history" they did before DA2 came out when they tried to make DA Shepard... right after DA:O when the Warden was clearly true "Shepard" of the series???

"Everyone who worked on this game feels like this is the best game we ever made and we're super excited to see you play it I swear guys plz :))))))) everyone loves it!!!!!"

Half of ppl who worked on this game got tossed by the company like trash and you expect me to care about game testers opinions???? Same game testers and insiders who wouldn't criticize Bioware or game for fear of getting blocked by Bioware/EA??? DA2 was also called "evolution of the series" and see how that came out. It's almost like they're trying to sell us sth...

[noeou]

COMPETITION ASIDE! —- octavinelle + pomefiore

( modern au! ) when they find out you’ve been working beyond your limit.

. . . ⟢ GENRE: fluff.

. . . ⟢ NOTES: old format for this post ‘cause im finishing this prompt. never got the chance to and i love it <3

[ azul ashengrotto | ceo and personal secretary. ]

as your boss, he was under the impression your day ended when his did. that’s why he didn’t work overtime at the office, so you could go home when he did. sometimes you stayed at his place when you worked late together, but that wasn’t too often.

he was concerned when you didn’t show up to his house at six in the morning, per usual. you weren’t ever late in the years he’s been working with you so he wasn’t mad you weren’t there, sure he was irritated but whatever.

when you don’t respond to his texts and show no signs of having shown up at the office, he gets worried. he drives himself to your place, despite the tweel’s protests that one of them should drive him, to check on you.

when i say he panics when you open the door, i mean he panics. you were in the same clothes you wore the day prior, hair a mess, and eyes deprived of sleep.

he pushes down the guilty feeling when he sees the same feelings occupy your eyes. he pulls you close with a hum of acknowledgment, then dragging you inside.

“you didn’t sleep well, if at all, did you?” azul shook his head, admiring your effort as well as your beauty. “go get ready, i’ll inform jade of our absences— ah, don’t object. you’ve earned a day of rest, i’ll see that you get it.”

[ jade leech | company secretary and employee. ]

made checking up on you apart of his duties, without being aware of it. he always stopped by your division just to see you, even if you didn’t notice him.

he was running late one day, unexpected errands his coworker piled up for him were holding him up. he got to your division at lunch, under the pretense he was checking on your project and he was beyond surprised.

your division was empty, as they probably went out for lunch, except for you; a uniform jacket was draped on your shoulder. jade was yet to figure out what pissed him off more: you not sleeping properly or another person taking better care of you than he was.

regardless, he shot a text to azul and tidied up your desk. when he was satisfied, he folded the jacket with an unknown owner and wrote on one of your post-it notes a thanks and put it on top before carrying you to his car.

you woke up at this point, it took everything in him for jade not to scold you on the spot. somehow he succeeded, letting out an uncharacteristic hum to lull you back to sleep.

after settling you into a guest room; jade prepared water, soup, extra pillows, extra blankets, anything you’d need as if you were sick. “i swear, the anxiety you give me takes year off my life.” you may or may not wake up to him asleep in a chair across from you.

[ floyd leech | employee and division leader. ]

unlike the former two, you’re floyd’s superior (aka his boss.) you worked in the testing division, you came up with food ideas and tested them for production.

you worked the most out of your team. yes they worked hard, but at work you were revising theirs; it’s only in overtime you get a chance to work on your own.

he was very much the attend all division parties type of guy, it’s one of the many things that made the both of you so different.

the recent month has been the busiest for you all, and shock horror— the crew decided to celebrate with a party. you were there as they planned on where to go outside the building, only cause you were looking for your keys and the inner parking lot was extremely dark.

floyd took this opportunity to wave said keys in front of you with a scheming grin.

“celebrate with me, l/n. we can go wherever you want… on me.” while it was uncharacteristic of him to offer to pay, you accepted. mainly cause you had nothing better to do, and also the fact you were his ride home so you wouldn’t here the end of it,

[ vil schoenheit | actor and preforming arts student. ]

allow me to start with you are an adult, in college in this timeline.

vil is an alumni at your school, it’s how you met. actually, it’s more because he was a prodigy that breezed right through the course, leaving you behind for another year or so.

guiding you where he could, vil was able to keep tabs on your well being. while he didn’t really struggle with school, it was quite different for you. having the tendency to hyper focus and forget the outside world, vil’s been the anchor to bring you back.

this weighed on him when he was offered an overseas project. while you reassured him to take care of yourself, he knew he’d be too busy to check that.

nonetheless, he went. it was quite clear within the first week, he’d be busier than you both expected. it was radio silence on his end; but you still made an effort to record yourself do skincare when talking about your day and sent it to him in place of face timing.

but what matters in behind the scenes, something that was meant to be his expertise. returning to your private doctor watching over you while you were on bed rest after fainting at school was most certainly unexpected, but not too shocking,

“what did i tell you about taking care of yourself? did we not make an agreement?” he scolded as your doctor took her leave. it took a while until he moved on from it; had only he knew his silence and exams on top of that caused you to be so anxious you fainted and not your lack of rest.. maybe he would’ve let you off the hook.

[ rook hunt | idol and manager. ]

tries not to bother you unless necessary because his group members can already be a handful, but makes sure to talk to you everyday (if that makes sense.) it doesn’t matter if it’s just hello, he’d prefer have a positive relationship with you.

one night you misdialed him, confusing rook a lot. he was surprised by the tiredness in your voice and your weak laugh when you realized it was him you called by mistake.

he stayed on the phone with you until you fell asleep, talking about random things. he didn’t hang up when you stopped responding, he actually went to go get you, your office wasn’t far away from where they practiced so he’d pick you up before going to the dorms.

it was at this point, being the leader of his group held an entirely different meaning and responsibility. slowly but surely, the other members stopped relying on you for all the trivial things, lifting a large weight off of your shoulders.

not only that, a new maturity settled in rook that you didn’t recognize. you weren’t sure what exactly prompted such a change as your memory of the night was hazy, but you were grateful no less.

“i already have their lunch handled. eat with me again, hm?” how could you disagree, your little lunch days were a welcome addition to your schedule.

[ epel felmier | farmer and baker. ]

you and epel are childhood friends, so knowing you well was something he prided himself in.

recently, you entered a baking competition and he was your partner (an honor, truly.) he couldn’t help but notice how much wasted bread began filling the trash cans in your kitchen.

while he wasn’t as skilled as you in the bread making department, he still made the effort of learning through online tutorials so he wasn’t clueless.

being the man of many talents he is, he seemingly surpassed your skill when you first started, however that wasn’t the point.

his intention was to learn terminology and the ‘baking dictionary’ per say, in an attempt to understand your ranting about your struggle in ‘lacking perfection’ better.

epel did make sure to carve you a special pastry as an reward, regardless of if you won or not. baking isn’t as easy as you made it look and he wouldn’t ignore that.

“each pastry tastes better than the last, don’t worry. you’re not giving yourself enough credit.” before you could protest, epel shoved a piece of the bread in your mouth with a smile, “—ah, i won’t hear otherwise.”

[cutepastelstarsalior]

Helluva Boss Episode 8, season 2

Ok so this show has

5 more episodes. Then the show will either

A be done

Or

B, have a season 3.

Whatever way it goes, I hope the show wraps and gives characters satisfying endings. Though I fear that will the episodes spread out, some element or plot continuity will be lost.

What does Pride Weather mean? Is it like the the normal weather report but gay????

GOD DANG IT ANOTHER SONG.

Ok, so Stolas is thinking that his and Blitzo’s relationship will help him deal with the divorce and the negative voices in his head. A fairytale like romance is what Stolas seems to want, where his problems can be fixed with the power of love. Meanwhile Blitzo is just thinking of the relationship as only a friend’s with benefits thing. Interesting that he is also using the relationship as a way to not think about his problems.

“Would he want me if he was free? And if he’s only here as a prisoner, what kind of monster does that make me? My entire life been written in stone. He taught me that I could choose. He desverse the choice to stay or go. Though it scares me to think of what I’ll lose.”

Wow. So far, this is a lot to take it. But what really gets my interest is that Stolas repetitively saying that he wants to free them. Both Blitzo and him. But from what? Is it judgmental from others? Is it from powerful demons that could break their relationship? Or is it from Stolas’s guilt and regrets? Another interesting thing is that when Blitzo sees the date, he has to mental hype himself up to the idea of sex. At first he has a strain smile in the mirror, but once Blitzo keeps talking about sex in detail, he’s like the idea. I don’t know if Blitzo doing this hype up is supposed to be taken has a funny thing, or a way to show that Blitzo is hypersexual. But it does feel like a coping mechanism. I don’t think people normally have to hype themselves up to have sex with someone, or even feel apathetic at first. Also, Blitzo talks about what HES going to do to Stolas, and not what Stolas does for him. Does Blitzo do all the work in bed?

YOOOO THE GOVERNMENT PEOPLE AND THE CHURRUBS ARE BACK YESSSS

Wait wait wait!!!! Are the two angels going to be more and more corrupted and the goat boy is going to go back to heaven YESSSSSSSS I love that.

Oh, 👀 angles can physically be hurt, hit with blow darts, and be electrocuted. Interesting.

PRIST WITH A GUN WHAT WILL THEY DO. This feels so cursed. Omg pls pls pls give the Angels or at least one of them a gun…

EXCUSE ME??????? THE GOVERNMENT WAS LIKE YEAH WILL GIVE YOU MORE MONEY. MAKE A LITERALLY PORTAL TO HELL AND MAKE SOME KILLER CLONE PREIST.., AHHHH THE ANGELS ARE IN HELL NOW

hmmm since Hazbin Hotel finally aired, would this story still be in the same world as Hazbin? Aka angels killing demons? Or no? If the churrubs seem so gun-hoe on killing, were they apart or admire Adam’s army?

There noticeable less swearing here! Wow! Good job Viv.

Oh! So interesting thing, 1 the demons get physical sick at saying the word torture. And 2 they don’t know what sex is. Or at least, they don’t know what sex equipment is. Do Angels natural not know these thing or get sick when saying certain words? Is it just heaven born angels that are like this? The 2 rouge angels (whose names i forget) seems fine with stealing and killing, but not at torture. Will they get comfortable with it as they stay longer in hell? Will being in hell at all make then like, permanently banned from heaven?

There lots of sex shops in the Lust ring. I thought it would just be one company? That kind of neat how there many stores of the same products but with minor variations. Some neat worldbuilding. Heyyyyy it’s Frizz. He seems more happy and cheerful! Yippee. Also he seems more sex neutral or positive? Also obsidian and jewel equipment? That feels very fancy? Maybe? I feel like hell would have lots of rocks and crystal around since, you know, under the earth.

🎼🎵IM A ANGEL WITH A SHOTGUN FIGHTING TILL THE WARS WON I DONT CARE IF HEAVEN WONT TAKE MEEEE BACKKKKKK ILL THROW AWAY MY FAITH BABE JUST TO KEEP YOU SAFE DONT YOU KNOW YOUR EVEYTHING I HAVEEEEEEE🎵🎼

Loona’s voice seems different. Maybe it’s because I haven’t heard it in a while, maybe the VA has a good microphone. But it feels sharper and clearer. All the voices do. It feels like higher quality.

Ok. Now the ending.

Stolas gave Blitzo a crystal, that way Blitzo and his team can legally travel to earth and back. Stolas called off the deal, and says that even thought they don’t have that agreement anymore, he (Stolas) would like to still have Blitzo stay. Blitzo, at first thinks it’s a roleplay, or a joke. But once Stolas starts to leave, Blitzo gets angry. He even calls Stolas a porous asshole, just like Striker did. Blitzo gets angry and even starts to tear up, saying that Stolas had, treated him like other imps. That Stolas looks down on imps and doesn’t respect them. Blitzo even comments on his imp butler.

In the background, many objects are covers in tarps, and all the paintings have Stolas’s wife covered, while Olivia has her face shown. It seems like Olivia either doesn’t live with Stolas, or goes back and forth between her parents. I’m bringing this up because like before, Stolas doesn’t want the relationship to be base off a deal. He thinks highly of Blitzo, but Blitzo only thinks of the relationship as something that’s transactional. Stolas wants this relationship because it the only one in his life that seems to either bring him joy, or doesn’t let him think about his problems. While I do like that Stolas calling off the deal and giving Blitzo the crystal. I feel like the last line “I think highly of you and you think so lowkey of me” feels a bit manipulative?

Like, yeah Blitzo does feel that way. Why shouldn’t he? What has Stolas done besides letting him use the book, what has he done for Blitzo? Did Stolas even gave Blitzo comfort? Did he ever let Blitzo talk about their deal? Does Stolas actually out effort into their deal or does Blitzo do all the work? Stolas let Blitzo not have sex for a few months, but is that it? Blitzo has being Stolas bodyguard, help him track down Olivia, save Stolas multiple times. He even bought a bunch of sex equipment and seems to do all the sexual favors. So yeah. It’s damn well in Blitzo right to think lowly of Stolas.

Man I hope and pray that the series dosnt have then be endgame.

Review 4/5. The song was ok. I like that the angels and government guys are back and have more power, hate Stolas.

[gilverrwrites]

Just imagining our dearest Reader being so hooked onto Sionis's cock. His most favorite plaything doesn't care where he do it with them or how he do it. Whichever holes of his choosing, and they can't have enough of him you know. The feel of him inside of them or the taste of him as he fucks them beyond stupid, and ruins them as they wish. So utterly addicted to this horrible, sick bastard and always wanting more and more. Even humping him like his own goddamned pet until he gives you what he wants. Always desperate to please him ...

While he parades them around in provocative dresses, and a tight choker with his name on it. Feeling them up in public, and having his way whenever. Just the Reader calls him Daddy, even in front of company and always rubbing that godawful fucking ego of his.

Fr, to be Romans' favourite little free-use plaything, not a thought in that pretty little head of yours that he didn't put there, so obedient and needy, desperate to please him if it means getting just a tiny taste of his cock, yes, please!

I've been thinking a lot about Janus Cosmetics CEO Roman. Specifically about him convincing you, his new assistant/soon-to-be plaything to wear a dress he’s picked out for you to the after-party of a big product launch. One of those sheer, sparkly diamanted dresses, a skimpy little skin-coloured thong, a matching JC necklace and a pair of heels. Nothing left to the imagination, and all night he's got his hand on you.

This is your first time at such a big social event after all. Assistant is just a stepping stone, you wanna make it in this industry, right? Who better to show you the ropes than Mr Sionis? Don't worry, he’ll make sure all the big shots know your name, and what a firecracker you are.

You're nervous? Don't be! Here have a drink? It’ll make you feel better, I swear. No? Maybe another will help.

Oh and the best part? Well, the paps just loved you and that gorgeous, one-of-a-kind dress. You’ll be all over the glossies tomorrow, doll. Bet your family is gonna be so proud!

I also had this idea that he would nickname you bunny affectionately, because you’d forgotten to take off your bunny-eared woolly hat at the beginning of your interview.

On your first day he gifts you one of those fuzzy keyrings that looks like a bunny tail, but before you can even touch it he clips it onto the belt loop at the back of your skirt/trousers. You think he's trying to be cute, and you don't want to upset your new boss so you keep it there. Clipping it as close as you can each day and forgetting about it.

When you first try on the dress you're all hesitatant, for obvious reasons but Roman reassures you; you're beautiful, don't worry, its not that revealing, and it’ll be dark. Do a spin for me? God, it would be a crime not to take you out in this thing.

But it is missing something. You've no idea what he means until you catch him fiddling with the clothes you'd switched out of.

“Oh, yeah. I don't think there's anywhere to put it.”

Nonsense! Before you even realise what he's doing he hooks his hand into the slit of the skirt, pulling it up to expose your ass and clipping your makeshift tail to your thong.

Now you're perfect.