#in my head is Not Very Good and its totally a weak point of mine when im trying to think of stories of scenes w different characters | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mellow-island7 · 1 year ago

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Twitter Drafts

was writing down my twitter drafts in a word document cause i'm gonna deactivate my twitter again cause i'm getting overwhelmed again by everything and thought i'd share some of these on tumblr lol

These drafts start from now (8/23/23) and go all the way back to i think like a year ago or something like that, some of the drafts are unfinished but yea anyways heres some of them

(pt 1)

(ps my bad i probably sound like an asshole in some of these, i was really sad and have been stuck in a perpetual shit cycle for the past 3 years)(but also i have to learn to stop apologizing for things that i don't need to be sorry for)

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Stuck in a body that isn’t mine,

Everything is a waste of time

Dumb yuppie mfkrs talking about being “broke” with a car, a house, gear that works and a house that has food everyday :|

Lol :|

We need a show in south florida for the Daniel Johnston fans all 5 to 6 of us

Mfkrs will literally kick you down and be like dude get up already, stop being lazy

Its funny hearing people talking about getting older and gaining weight and running out of breath and I’m like “dude literally all you do is smoke weed and watch shit on Netflix, what the fuck would you expect”

Lol you really not grown till you get sued for the first time

Mad respect and appreciation for anyone that takes the time to try and and understand themselves emotionally

In my head thinking about how it totally not cute to be this sad at my age

In my head counting all the people that hate me

I’m grateful for the people that I’ve been friends with since middle school

The online therapists are exploiting mental illness, places like b*tter help want you to think you are weak and they want you to think you can’t do it yourself so that you can pay them a good amount of money to talk you into fixing your own problems

Yea I’m probably gonna hold off on doing shit seriously till I have money again

I know where I am, I know where I’m going and I know how I’m gonna get there

You should be scared you fucking limp dick weasel, I hope you get everything that you have coming for you

Wtf you could bs nose slide? :o

I just wanna skate and make music with my friends, its not that complicated

This mini ramp is slowly but surely making my brain so much stronger

Don’t understand plus don’t care plus don’t wanna understand plus I gotta st

Do things for genuine reasons

I need to stop apologizing for things I don’t need to be sorry about

(added this in rn, wasn’t originally in our twitter drafts ^^^)

Nick is like the mike Sinclair to my billy marks

One day when I’m older and more stable with money and more in a place of comfort, I look forward to being able to smoke weed while playing playstation 2 games

Lifes moving in such a weird direction and I’m really happy and excited but also a lil sad also goddamn some of the things happening are so bizarre

Educate the yuppie jits, they don’t know any better

You are exactly like all the people you complain about and if you weren’t busy having your head so far up your own ass maybe you could see that

I love being an internet music nerd, all I wanna do is be on my computer and listen to music and make shit

I’m trying very hard to stay optimistic and keep working hard towards things that I think actually matter and if you are in any way trying to impede on that optimism (no matter how false you think it may be) then FUCK YOUUUUU just SHUT THE FUCK UP

Growing up means literally faking being happy every day

I can’t wait to turn 30

I need a job so fucking bad and I desperately need to leave this house

Steel reserve suicide? 👀

Fuck it lol I think imma finish as much as I can of the ruffans stuff and put it out as a demos album LOL (at this point that makes more sense than having this be an actual album)

Definitely gotta keep our friends humble cause :| some mfkrs are getting so prideful and arrogant :|

I think we need to start roasting our friends a bit more, so many specific people are getting way too prideful and arrogant, like there’s nothing in with feeling a sense of pride in your self but definitely gotta humble people when they’re getting out of pocket

Being in a car with people that drive like shit :| is so fucking annoying :| and then they wanna act like you’re annoying as fuck for being scared :| fried ass mfkrs :|

Too many people down bad rn, get it together

:| talking about these things with the people you love is :| so :| fucking :| hard :| life is moving and changing in so many directions in so many ways :| and

You will only come to realize this when it is way too late and you’ve done an insane amount of irreparable damage and then you will regret so much as we all come to do

Life at 17: I need to kill myself Σ('◉⌓◉’)

Life at 24: yea fuck this dude I’m out :|

Lol its funny to me that theres people that only like me because I’m so sad and that feels soo fucked up for some reason

I don’t care if it’s good enough because it is genuinely the best can do

(rn)

Phone password is **** and my computer password is ******, theres a lot of live video and audio recordings of peoples bands and maybe some photos and logos and art and other random bullshit, if anyone cares to go and try and find that, go for it

I tried, sorry, thanks

(anecdote: lol fucking dumb edgy imbecile thinking anyone would give a fuck to try and find any of that garbage

Thanks

Its fireeee :,| <3

Goddammit ramon just do it already, watching you get up and keep trying is humiliating it feels like watching a one legged dog keep tripping over himself tryna cross the street, its so fucking sadd

No I’m not doing okay why the fuck would you askme some stupid dumbass question like that, tryna be on some hold your head up king bullshit, like I’m glad that you’ve managed to convince yourself that you’re happy, that’s awesome for you I love that for you genuinely but what the fuck I am obviously not happy why the fuck would you ask me that like what the fuck am I actually supposed to say to that

I am not too fond of punk music or shoegaze music or metal music(as genres), theres specific bands and individuals that I like but in general sense most of those genres are so fucking boring

I feel like I haven’t had a real conversation with another human being in so long, I feel so detached from reality like as if I’m not real and I’m watching myself continue on autopilot from outside my body

I’m the kind of stupid where I’ll have no money, get $5 and decide to share it with someone so we could eat together

Sitting thinking about how many days will have to pass before have to sell my fuzzwar and amp and other belongings that mean a lot to me?

(something is wrong/broken)

One brain cell dimwit human being who is not doing anything to fix it or help in any way: “why are you not fixing this? What is wrong with you you useless irresponsible asshole?”

I wish I had what you had

(plural)

I’m getting real close to selling my fuzzwar, at this point in life I have no one I’m close enough that would know what that would mean to me or even care but maya gave me that for my 19th brirthday, it was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me ever

Jesus christ the way that asia argento looks at rip torn in marie Antoinette and just thinking about times in life when someone looked at you like that while touching your face

#me #words #3761 #twitter #sorry #asia argento

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colossal-fallout · 4 years ago

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Can we have a hella needy (to the point near crazed) dom Hange annihalating a GN reader's cognitive functions with a strap? Thanks :D

I certainly can. 😚

Hange just awakens something in me...

GN reader X Hange

Warning: NSFW 18+ SMUT. Mouth spitting. Slight deg. Strap on.

“Levi, did you need section A3b put with the Research grant, or the Research progress report?” You ask, holding up two rather large chunks of paper work.

Levi’s eyes flicker up to you from his standing position at a table in Hange’s office; elbow deep in his own work.

“I have no idea.” He mutters honestly. “Ask shitty glasses.”

You turn to look at Hange who was usually at her desk in the corner. “Hange, do I pu-”

You freeze when you notice she’s staring at you intently, her elbows on the desk and covering her mouth with her entwined fingers; her eyes dark and an eyebrow raised. You knew that look. She was so deep in thought that you would probably have to rouse her from her daydream.

“Hange?”

“Oi, wake up.” Levi scolds, throwing a wooden pen-pot in her direction.

She flinches as it crashes onto the surface of her desk.

“Hm?” She blinks. “Sorry. I was miles away.”

“We know.” Levi mumbles with a cold glare from his steely eyes. “Which file do we put A3b into?”

“Both. You need two copies.”

You and the captain both let out an exasperated sigh, pulling out an extra sheet of paper and readying your quills.

Her chocolate pooled eyes return to you, her mind slowly sinking back into her daydream as if she were sliding into a hot bath. Those beautiful orbs latch onto your form, drinking you in deeply. You’d assumed she was pondering some science thing like she usually did. But unbeknownst to you and Levi, under her desk her legs were crossed tightly, her crotch thudding and pulsing with intense yearning for you. There was just something about you that just ignited the kerosene of her wildest, most feral desires.

The way you moved for example; to anyone else you’re just... moving. But to her its like your movements are pronounced, your unique mannerisms standing out as if the air around you were a liquid and you just sort of...stood out.

And those eyes... that smile... that ass.

You and Hange Zoe had been dating for a little while now, but it wasn’t too often you got to spend time alone these days. Erwin was really piling on the workload and the much needed anti-stress hormones only added fuel to the fire.

Her thighs tense and squeeze together, hardly not able to take the hot gushing sensation her body was providing her with; her skin heating up as she watches your furrowed brow concentrate on your writing.

She runs a hand through her hair in frustration, her leg beginning to bounce up and down with impatience.

Come on, Levi. Hurry and finish your work... She silently pleads, her nails now digging into the wood of the chair her own perfect ass was placed upon.

Her eyes enlarge when you bite your lip in concentration - the last time she saw you do that was when you were riding her face into glory. Your cum so deliciously sweet and filling. Who needed food if she had your bodily fluids to feast upon?

She relives the moments you’d come undone at her doing, your cries of pleasure melodic, your facial expressions as you -

“I’m done.” Levi finally sighs with relief, head rolling back to your direction. “You need any help? Or can I go and take a shit?”

“They’re fine.” Hange snaps her head up. “I’ll help them if they need it.”

“Okay.” Levi shrugs. “Don’t torture them too much.” he heads for the door.

Oh if only he knew.

Hange gets to her feet, slowly circling to the other side of her desk as he makes his way to the door, trying to hold herself back as much as possible during those torturous last few seconds of Captain Levi’s presence.

She follows him to the door feigning a yawn as he opens the door.

“Goodnight, Levi.”

“Night.”

Not even a second after he leaves the threshold of her office, she slams the door behind him and locks it, the loud bang catching your attention.

“H-hange?” You ask, noticing her expression as she stalks towards you - The very same she rarely showed when she was about to go ape shit over something. “S-sorry, i’m almost done I swea-”

She silences you by yanking your hair and slapping her lips off yours, tongue instantly sliding down your throat with no reservations. Her free hand rips your shirt before you even have time to register what’s going on. Her hands ravish you, like a person who’d been staved for days, finally able to get their hands on a human sized piece of meat.

“Take off your pants. Now.” She growls.

The authority in her voice sends an immediate rush of arousal down between your legs, yet you were still trying to take in what was going on. You automatically obey, sliding your trousers down your thighs, her hand grabbing your sex as soon as it tasted the fresh air.

“This is mine.” She growls, her teeth nipping your neck. “And I demand to use it. Right now.”

You nod, lips parting. “Y-yes ma’am...”

In a flash she has you bent over, face on the desk sticking to the now not-so-neat stack of papers, your hands pinned behind your back as she harshly takes her free hand and slithers it around your body, starting to rub and caress between your legs, her crotch grinding against your bare ass as her clit demands your friction.

Her long body leans down and caresses her face into your nape, hand still working you as you whine, her hips rolling against your soft flesh.

“mmm...” She groans in your ear, “Your body is mine. I can do what I like to you.” She reinforces this with a territorial sinking of her teeth, sucking your neck and leaving a nice darkening mark upon your flesh.

Hange is beyond feral.

She crossed that bridge an hour ago when you’d dropped your papers and bent over in front of her.

She was now well within the territory of hysteria.

Her grinds become more desperate, your shoulders hurting from how she hand you pinned, but it was complimented deliciously from how her hand and fingers were attentive to your sex, your knees weak as her hot breath invades you in the best possible way.

She suddenly spins you around, the relief of her grasp making you sigh deeply while you watch her remove her own trousers and unveiling her pussy - her arousal leaking from her lips and spreading to her thighs and ass as she harshly pushes you down onto your knees, pushing herself into your mouth with a high pitched whine.

“Good little soldier...” She hums, eyes closing and head throwing back as her hands rock your head at her own pace, totally under her control. “You make me feel so... ah~! so good.”

The taste of your lovers thick juices makes you whine like a little lap dog, wanting nothing more than for her to totally ruin you like the little bitch you were for her.

Her over sensitive slit that was good to blow at the best of times began to flex and quake, her loud moans warning you she was about to detonate.

Your eyes enlarge as she screams your name again and again into the heavens, her orgasm igniting the flames of your own yearning as she cusses and swears, her grip on your hair becoming tighter.

She begins to laugh softly as she comes back down to earth, the euphoria of finally having you possessing her - that succubus within her clawing its way to the surface as she throws you back onto the desk with ease, reaching into the drawer.

She'd been prepared.

She knew you were going to be in her office this evening and she wasn't about to let this chance of annihilating you slip through her starved fingers.

"Hange..." You whine in wanting when she pulls out her large strap, not taking her snug eyes off you as she fastens it to herself, adjusting it with such familiarity she didn't need to look down.

Running her tongue up your neck and into your ear, she lines it up to you, the anticipation a disgusting drug that made you feel almost ashamed to be excited to be destroyed by this magnificent woman. Hange turns you into something you weren't too familiar with, but you didn't care; especially as she slides it into you after spitting down onto your entrance.

You cry out as she thrusts, the friction on her clit from the toy enticing an evil grin as she fills you to the brim over and over again - that wild insane gleam in her eye as she smirks at you was enough to hurtle you into your own corner of lustful insanity.

"Beg for me" she hisses with malice, grabbing your face with force.

"Hange! Oh my god! Please! Harder!"

Her nails dig into your cheeks as she graces your wish, slamming herself roughly in and out of you, watching your eyes roll and cross, your body becoming a pile of mush in the palm of her hand.

She gives your cheek a squeeze. "Open."

You obey, parting your lips and flattening your tongue as she gathers spit at her lips, pushing it out with her wet muscle and watching you swallow it like it were holy water - a sinner desperate for their retribution.

Her hips slam harder, the desk clanking everything that were in the drawers as your orgasm quickly hurtles towards you.

"Cum for me." She commands.

You heard the scream. But it didn't feel like it came from you. But apparently it did as your body explodes into waves of white hot surges, rolling through you over and over again, your jaw slackening, still in Hange's grasp, your tongue falling out - the sight of this pushing your lover back into that higher plane of existence her own loud cries almost harmonising with yours and you both blindly tumble down into the void.

Hange had wanted - no needed you for days. The supernova of finally having you was more than heavenly as your ruined sex gets pushed into ecstasy again and again. Hange really does bring some dark shadow aspect of yourself to the surface. You really were just her bitch.

And you love it.

#snk #attack on titan #snk imagines #snk season 4 #snk fandom #hange smut #hange x reader #hange zoe x reader #hanji x reader #snk hanji #snk hange #aot hange #snk smut #aot smut

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bigtittybitch10 · 4 years ago

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Fezco, Maddy, Nate *"That was amazing"* PT2

Not Requested (This is part 2 of "Three's a party")

TW//

Y/N POV:

Ever since the first threesome Fez and I had with Maddie it became a regular occurrence. We always joked that it would be hot if Nate joined us but we knew he was "too good for us." I definitely wanted it to happen. From what I hear Nate is really good in bed and he's also really rough. And not that size matters but from the pictures I've seen (Maddie's doing) he's BIG too.

Like to sound like a total slut I would love to gag on his dick while being fucked by my boyfriend.

Texts// between Maddy & Y/N

To Y/N: I have a really good idea to make the foursome happen with Nate

When I read this I could feel my face heat up and my pussy start to tingle a little. I was always attracted to Nate but he was always with Maddy and I eventually got with Fez.

To Maddy: HOW?!

To Y/N: Well we were just talking and I mentioned the idea kinda casually and he wasn't disgusted like I thought he would be. He said that as long as Fez didn't touch him and that he could fuck you into bliss he would be down.

He wanted to fuck ME?! I mean I wasn't complaining I would love to be fucked by him. I knew Fez wouldn't want to be touched by him anyways so that wasn't even an issue.

To Maddy: HOLY SHIT!!! I'm so fucking down! I'll talk to Fez and let's make this shit happen. Sunday at the motel? 9 pm?

To Y/N: Ya that should be fine I'll double-check with Nate to make sure. Dude, I'm so fucking excited. I'm gonna love watching you get used by my man. It'll be so hot hearing you moan out his name while he's buried balls deep in you.

To Maddy: I can't wait! I miss making you cum, to be honest.

To Y/N: Girl I miss it too!

With that, we stopped texting about it knowing if we kept talking about it we would become even hornier than we already were.

When Fez got home from dealing with the business I brought up the idea of the foursome on Sunday and he was so down! I was happy because I love watching him make Maddy cum, I don't know if it's the way his name slips from her mouth or the way she shakes when she cums hard but it was really hot and I was so fucking excited.

To Maddy: Sunday works for us

To Y/N: Us too, see you then. Nate booked a room for us

To Maddy: Okay see you then

"Maddy just confirmed with Nate, ITS HAPPENING!" I tell Fez excitement clearly laced in my voice.

"Not gonna lie its gonna be hot watching you get used by another guy" Fez replied whispering in my ear a little. WIth me already being turned on and not just thinking about it more I was a horny mess for my boyfriend.

"Fez will you fuck me?" I ask with while sitting on his lap looking his him straight in the eyes.

"Of course baby girl, but this is the last time before Sunday. I want you to be a horny mess the rest of the week so you're DESPERATE for Nate." Fez said back to be right before he smashed his lips onto mine.

FLASH FORWARD TO SUNDAY

Fez was serious about not letting me cum for the rest of the week and to say it was rough was an understatement. Not only did I have Fez teasing me at home but Nate was always teasing me at school. Whether it was him getting close to my neck and breathing, dirty texts, or even whispers right into my ear. He knew he was having an effect and he loved it.

Fez and I where on our way to the motel and the closer we got the more and more nervous I was getting. Fez could tell so he just put his hand on my thigh to reassure me that it would be okay.

To Maddy: I'm here

To Y/n: Come in, room 217

Fez and I made our way to the second floor and found the room Maddy had told us to go to. Once at front of the door, I gave it a soft knock and when the door opened to a shirtless Nate I wanted to jump on him right then but we had agreed to smoke a little to break the ice.

After about 40 minutes of smoking and talking I could feel a hand start to creep up my thigh making a little moan slip out of my mouth.

"Someone's a little needy," I hear Nate whisper in my ear.

By now his finger were slowly tracing circles on the outside of my panties. "Fuck," was all I could moan out when he pushed my panties to the side and started playing with my clit. When I looked over at Fez and Maddie, Maddie was in Fez's lap making out with him hard while grinding into his hard-on.

"Nate, Fuck," I tried to piece a sentence together but fail from the pleasure I was receiving.

"What baby, you trying to say something," He whispers into my ear. Even though I couldn't see his face I knew he had a prideful smirk plastered on his face.

"Nate, I'm getting closer," I was finally able to muster out. I was already on the edge and I really wanted permission to cum but I knew I was gonna have to wait a while before that happened.

"Hold it," Nate replied back sternly. This just made me even wetter from his tone and I really wanted to release my juices all over his fingers.

At this point, Maddy was on her back and had Fez's face buried into her pussy making her moan out loud. Nate followed suit and pushed me on my back and started eating me out. My face was close to Maddy's so I took the opportunity to start making out with her. Fez must have slipped a finger into her pussy because she let out a loud sigh. I took this opportunity to slip my tongue into her mouth to explore. I was getting closer but the second Nate slipped 2 fingers in my pussy I knew I wasn't gonna be able to hold back much longer.

"Please," I begged for my release.

"Cum with Maddy," Nate replied and the boys gave us a quick little count down and when they finally got to 1 Maddy and I both squirted all over the boys.

While we were recovering from our first orgasm me and Maddy made out a little while the boy lightly played with our pussies. Once we were basically recovered me and Maddy decided to take over for a few minutes and take a load down our throats. We had both of the boys sit on the end of the bed and we took turns switching between each boy.

Nate was bigger than Fez but that didn't matter because both of the boys knew how to use it properly. I don't know when we decided that I was gonna swallow Nate's load and Maddy would swallow Fez's but I could tell Nate was getting close by the way he was gripping my hair even tighter than before and just before he released his load he pushed his whole dick down my throat forcing me to gag on his dick while he came. I swallowed his load with a hum. When I looked over I could tell Fez was getting to the edge so I took my hand and started playing with his balls. It was a weakness he had but I was one of the only ones to know about it. As soon as he squeezed I heard his groan that he always made when he was about to release a load. I knew Maddy was eager to swallow the load just by the look on her sexy face.

The boys decide to put us back on our backs and climb on top of us to start making out while they got hard again. Nate decided he wanted to fuck me good first so he was roughly grinding his growing dick on my very wet pussy while I was a moaning mess during our heated make-out session.

After a couple of minutes, I feel Nate start to tease my clit with the tip of the dick before he slipped his large dick into my tight pussy. This made a moan slip out of my mouth and arch my back off of the bed. He started his thrusts out deep and slow before he slowly built them up to being fast and deep. I had already cum on his dick once but he was clearly far from done because even after squirting all over him he didn't stop not even to give me a quick cool down.

"Nate I'm close again," I moan out to him which only encouraged him to fuck me harder.

"Hold it," Nate said as he kept fucking me.

All of a sudden I felt a pair of fingers on my clit and I instantly recognized them as Maddy's. This made me rub my fingers on her clit which threw her into a moaning mess as she came for a third time on Fez's dick.

"Cum," Was all I needed to hear before letting go and allowing my body to have one of the best orgasms of my life.

After a short break, Fez climbed on top of me and flipped me into doggy style, and fucked me harder than he had ever fucked me before. It didn't take long for Fez to get close and he had been fucking Maddy for a hot minute.

"Cum with me," Fez grunted out as I let out a scream before squirted for a third time that night. I quickly felt Fez fill my pussy up with his warm seed.

Next to me, I hear Maddy let out a loud moan and I see Nate start to give short aggressive thrust signalling that they were both cumming.

"Fuck that was amazing," Nate said as he kissed the top of Maddy's head as they were cuddled together.

"We should make this a regular thing," Maddy said which made all of us agree.

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That was honestly a lot of fun to write! I will be writing more Threesomes/ group sex soon! Just tell me who you wanna see and I'll make it happen.

#Fezco #Nate Jacobs #hbo euphoria #euphoria #maddy perez #smut #dirty imagine #euphoria one shot #euphoria imagine

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duskholland · 4 years ago

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Cuddle Buddies | Peter Parker

summary ↠ you’re touch-starved, Peter’s your best friend, and there’s a whole lot of unresolved romantic tension between you; friends to lovers.

word count ↠ 3.4k

warnings ↠ uh oh.... there’s only one bed..? additionally maybe two swear words? also copious amounts of fluff lmao

a/n ↠ so apparently I really wanna cuddle Peter Parker. wbk. this is very cute and made me so soft when I wrote it. I hope you enjoy it! please let me know if you have any thoughts :D

“God damn, MJ, I think I’m actually going to die if I don’t get a hug soon.”

You’re rambling, your voice full of heavy frustration. Your hair is unkempt and messy from all the times you’ve run your fingers through it, and you stare at Michelle with a wild look in your eyes that makes her press a hand to her hips and laugh lightly.

“Has anyone told you that you’re really good at being dramatic, Y/N?” She replies casually, causing you to mock an outraged gasp. You sit down at the lunch table together, setting down your trays in front of you.

You manage a glare at your friend. “You’re so mean to me,” you whine. “You don’t understand how desperate I am.”

MJ narrows her eyes. “I don’t think it’s possible to die from lack of human contact,” she chimes.

“Who’s dying?”

You startle as a third, familiar voice joins the conversation, and crane your neck to see Peter slipping into the open seat beside you. He gives you an easy smile that stretches all the way to his soft, lovely brown eyes, and you feel your heart ache.

“No one’s dying,” Michelle replies. When Peter shoots her an inquisitive look, she adds, “Y/N thinks she’s going to perish if she doesn’t find someone to hug.”

You scowl at MJ, biting the inside of your cheek as you try not to let the embarrassment show on your face. It’s one thing to have this conversation with MJ - your close friend and number one confidant - but Peter? It’s an entirely different story. He may be your best friend, but your feelings are far more than simply platonic when it comes to him.

“Oh…” Peter looks at you curiously, his eager eyes darting over your face. He leans his elbows on the table and rests his chin in his hands, looking utterly adorable with his face pulled into a cute smile. His grin widens as you meet his gaze, and he nods knowingly. “Hugs are nice.”

You nod in appreciative agreement. “Exactly!”

MJ just rolls her eyes. “You guys are so weird.”

Ned joins the table and begins talking to MJ about a chemistry project, and Peter turns to you properly.

“Hey, so, are we still on for that study session later?” He asks you, his teeth briefly gliding across his lower lip. You try not to focus too much on the curve of his mouth, but it’s very difficult.

“Um, yeah,” you squeak, feeling your cheeks heat up a little as you remember the arrangement you’d made with Peter earlier in the week. “Mine or yours?”

“Yours?” Peter suggests.

“Okay. My parents are still away on business, so it’ll just be us. Is that okay?”

Your friend nods his head, his fluffy brown curls shifting around his face. “Sounds great.” Peter gives you a nervous smile, and it sets your heart racing. “I can’t wait.”

-----

Peter turns up a little after 7pm, a box of pizza in his hands. You spend a while chatting and watching Star Wars, and then eventually pull yourselves around to studying. You opt for your bedroom, with its very comfortable fluffy carpet, and you spread out all of your notebooks and pens around you before lying on your stomach and lazily flicking through your notes. But you can’t quite focus because something is amiss.

Peter is acting very oddly tonight. And he’s normally a little hyperactive, but it’s as if he’s on another level entirely. He keeps glancing up to you, then looking away the moment you bring your eyes up to meet his, and he hasn’t stopped drumming his fingers over the front of his maths textbook all night. You’re already nervous enough being around him, alone and within such close proximity to him, and his antics aren’t helping you at all.

You might have a teeny tiny crush on Peter Parker. Possibly. But you’d never tell him that.

“Pete,” you say, reaching breaking point when you catch him staring at your face for the fifth time in one minute. You sit up and turn to look at him, meeting his guilty, rose-tinted face. “What’s going on? You seem so unsettled. Are you okay?”

Peter opens and closes his mouth a few times, his eyes meeting yours nervously. His voice is more a squeak than anything else as he says, suddenly, “Do you want to cuddle me?”

You blink, totally blindsided by the change in topic.

“Uh, cuddle you?”

“Um, I mean, sorry, that’s such a weird thing to just come out and say, I- I just remembered earlier, with MJ, what she was saying, and I was wondering if you’d want to hug me, if you- if you want a hug so badly.” Peter breaks off, a disgruntled groan coming up his throat as he buries his flushed face in his hands. “I’m sorry, Y/N, shit, that was such a weird thing to ask. Can we just pretend I never said anything?”

You chuckle, your lips pulling into a wide smile. “You would let me hug you?” You ask gently. Peter parts his fingers and looks at you through the gaps, nodding slightly. “I’d like that, Peter.”

He looks so shocked by your statement that it brings another quiet laugh from your mouth. “O-Okay.” Peter clumsily opens his arms. “Um, here?”

It’s painfully awkward at first. He’s sitting at the foot of your bed, his back resting up against the mattress, so you have to do a weird sort of crawl over to him, feeling his wide, anxious eyes pressing onto your figure the whole way. It doesn’t help that you’re practically shaking from nerves now.

You’ve known Peter since the start of high school, but you’ve not really hugged him before. The most you’ve shared is a brief celebratory high-five after acing a biology presentation together, and even that contact had lingered in your mind for days after. The concept of crawling up to and hugging your crush makes your palms sweaty and your mind a numb anxious mess, but you do it, because it’s Peter, and the opportunity to cuddle up next to him is so enticing you think you’d do anything just to feel his arms around your body.

The angle is difficult, but Peter spreads his legs out across the carpet and pats his thighs, and you realise he wants you to straddle his lap, so you clamber into his hold gently. He’s sturdy beneath you, with a pair of dark denim jeans stretched over his firm thighs, and he’s quick to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you in. You let your hands find his sides, and then you settle into a very close, very intimate hug with your best friend.

It’s lovely.

He smells of soft bubbles and peppermint, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck, partly because it’s comfortable, but mostly because you don’t want him to see the massive, embarrassing grin fixed to your mouth. Your heartbeat’s going crazy - you can feel it pressing against your ribs almost painfully, and it only doubles in speed as Peter’s hands move slowly across your back, rubbing large, soothing circles over your hoodie. You savour the moment, your eyes closed as you enjoy just being held by your best friend.

“Is this okay?” Peter asks, after a few moments.

You hum against his neck, squeezing his torso softly. He’s wearing one of Midtown’s navy hoodies, and it feels particularly soft against your forehead. “Thanks, Pete,” you mumble, enjoying the moment entirely too much. “You’re really good at hugs, you know that?”

“You’re also a very nice hugger,” Peter replies. You swallow deeply as you feel him tighten his grip on your sides and pull you even closer.

“Sometimes it’s just nice to be held,” you find yourself saying. You’re starting to feel really comfortable now, and find yourself relaxing and shifting further into him.

“Definitely.” His voice is still ringing at a higher pitch than you’re used to, but you put it down to the late evening hour. “Um, Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“If you, uh, ever need another hug, you can always text me.”

You’re so glad you have your face buried in Peter’s warm neck because the grin latched to your lips is so large you think you’d die from embarrassment if your friend could see how giddy his words make you feel.

“Okay,” you say. “Thanks, Pete.” You pause for a moment, and take stock of the way he seems to be clinging to you just as tightly as you are to him. “You can always text me too, if you ever want a hug. Or anything, really.” You manage to collapse your smile so it’s more of a weak grin, and you pull back to look at Peter. His hands fall down to loosely grasp at your hips, and you find him looking at you with warm, attentive eyes and a wide smile hanging from his pink lips.

He looks so cute, and relaxed, and perfect, and you really can’t believe your luck that you’re sitting holed up in his arms just now.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he mumbles shyly, eyes flittering across every part of your face. “You’re a great friend.”

You deserve an Oscar for maintaining the smile on your face, despite the way his words stab painfully at your heart.

“You too, Pete,” you mutter. “The best friend ever.”

The air between you holds just a little too much tension, so you shift and push your face back into his shoulder, hugging him again. Peter’s arms tighten around your waist, and you sigh softly, revelling in rare the feeling of him so close to you, even if it isn’t under the circumstances you crave. You’d take anything Peter could offer you, even if it makes your heart ache.

------

It easily becomes a habit.

Soon enough, it’s been three months, and you’re spending almost every evening with Peter. The more you meet up, the more natural folding into his arms becomes, and soon you find that your favourite parts of the day are the moments you share curled up together.

Sharing affection with Peter is easy, but it comes at a cost - it ties your heart up in knots to spend so much time pressed up against his chest, acting so intimately with him, but then to pull back and go back about your day like nothing really happened. Every second you spend hugging him hurts you because your heart yearns so deeply to have more, but you just can’t bring yourself to tell him how you feel. You value your friendship with Peter too much to risk ruining it all because of a stupid crush, and you’re not ready to stop your evening shenanigans, so you decide to just put up with it and suffer in silence.

A few months into your arrangement, you find yourself at Peter’s when the power across the city goes out in the middle of a thunderstorm.

“Holy shit,” you mutter, shivering as you glance outside and see a flash of sharp lightning cut across the city. The rain pelts down against the pavements so loudly that you can hear it through the gap in the window. You turn and look at Peter, wide-eyed. “Bet you’re glad the Stark internship let you leave earlier than usual today. I’m not looking forward to walking back in that later.”

“Y/N, you can’t go home in the middle of a thunderstorm, especially if the power is out,” Peter tells you firmly, his arms crossing over his chest. He looks so cute with his eyebrows scrunched into a caring scowl that you can’t stop yourself from smiling. “Stay here tonight. May’s out of town, but I can sleep on the sofa. I don’t want you to go across the city by yourself at the moment.”

You bite your lower lip, eyeing the slants of rain that pour over Queens. “It does look pretty horrible out there,” you admit. Your expression shifts into guilt as you eye Peter closely. “You can’t sleep on the sofa, though. I will.”

“No, I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“Peter, it’s your apartment, I’m not about to kick you out of your own bed.”

“Then join me.”

“In your bed? With you?”

“Yes.” Peter’s face is a bright red as he flusters, “Um, only if you’re comfortable with that though, Y/N. You don’t have to. I just thought that- because, y’know, we’re kinda… close now, you might want to. But you don’t-”

“I want to,” you say, the words tumbling out before you can think them through properly. You’re rendered utterly incapable of sensible thought, because Peter’s looking at you so intently that it whips the breath straight out of your lungs. “Really, Pete, that would be nice, if you’re sure you don’t mind..?”

“No! I want to,” he replies. Peter runs his delicate fingers through his brown waves, pushing his strands away from his face easily. His smile is gentle, and it grows as you return it shyly. “I’ll go get you some clothes.”

You make light conversation as you both get ready for bed together. Peter even finds you a spare toothbrush in the cabinet beneath the sink, and you pull faces at him in the mirror as you brush your teeth together side by side. It feels so domestic, but also incredibly comfortable and normal, and you decide that you feel more at home by Peter’s side than you do anywhere else in the world. You realise that maybe you’d just been deluding yourself each time you’d dismissed your feelings for him as simply a crush. Maybe, your feelings run a lot deeper for your friend - far deeper than you’d ever intended for them to grow. Because you realise, as Peter laughs loudly when you pull a face at him in the mirror, that your feelings for the boy have taken firm root in your heart, and you’re absolutely fucking in love with him.

“So, um, I normally sleep on the left side, but I can swap if you want that side,” Peter tells you. The power has finally come back on and the weather has cleared up, but neither of you comment on it as he closes his bedroom door behind you and gestures at his nice, gingham-patterned bedspread.

“I can go on the right side,” you offer.

Peter turns off the light and you both shuffle to your respective sides of his bed. You’ve been in his room a thousand times before, but you’ve never ventured beneath his lovely soft covers, and you find yourself sighing slightly as you shuffle beneath the duvet. His pillows are light and feathery, and your head sinks into them easily.

He seems intent to stay as far away from you as possible, and he clings to the far edge of the mattress. It brings a frown to your mouth, but you let him be; if that’s where he has to be in order to feel comfortable, then you’ll let him stay there. Just because you feel something else fluttering about in your heart for him, does not mean he feels the same way - even if you were sure he’d been hugging you a little closer, recently, and staring at your lips more than he used to. But maybe that was all in your head.

“Do you need anything?” Peter asks slowly. You stare up at his ceiling, your eyes taking in the dark curves of his smooth roof.

“No,” you reply. “Your bed is very comfortable.”

You hear the sheets ruffle as Peter slowly turns over. You fold over onto your side and find yourself facing him, his bright eyes twinkling slightly beneath the light that streams in from the city outside. He looks very cute, with the duvet bunched up beneath his chin and his fluffy hair all messy and waved out across his forehead, and it makes you happy to see him so relaxed and free. Sometimes it feels as though Peter carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, and you’d give anything to see him gentle and carefree like this. It makes you feel a surge of pride to know you can give him just a little bit of peace.

“Yeah, I dunno where May got the mattress but it’s amazing.” Peter breaks off, shifting around a little, and you freeze up when you feel his hand brush against yours beneath the covers. “Oh, uh, sorry,” he mutters, immediately jerking his hand back. You can just about make out the dark flush of his cheeks.

“‘S okay,” you murmur, biting your lower lip. A beat passes, and then you add, “We hug all the time, Peter. You can touch me, y’know.”

He takes it as an invitation, and he tenderly reaches out. His warm hand finds the curve of your waist, and you stay remarkably still as he slowly shuffles a little closer.

“Is this okay?” Peter whispers into the air.

“Yeah.”

Finally you unstick, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. You shift towards him, as if magnetised, and your hand goes up to rest on his side, too. His t-shirt feels soft beneath your hold, and you find your mind reeling as you take in his warmth, his scent, his touch.

Peter’s face is very near you now. Your legs are tangled together. Your head shifts onto his pillow, and suddenly he’s holding you flush against him, your noses almost touching.

“Y/N,” he says slowly. His eyes are wide and nervous, and they keep dipping down to settle on the curve of your lips.

“Pete,” you respond, your voice fragile. You can hardly keep still, for how nervous you’re feeling now. He’s pulled you right against him, and for the first time, you question whether your feelings are actually one sided. His warm fingers burn against your side, tracing delicate circles over the material of your borrowed shirt. “You’re really close.”

“Do you want me to move?” You’ve never heard him like this before: all warm, and gentle, and inviting. It ignites a whirlwind of butterflies inside your chest, and you really can’t stop yourself from saying, quietly,

“I want you to kiss me.”

Peter’s lips are on yours before you know it. Soft, at first, and a little bit bumpy and awkward. But he loosens up as you reach up and wrap your fingers around his hair, and you kiss him back with all that you have. Peter pulls you closer as you kiss him deeply, savouring the feeling of his warm, pillowy lips and enjoying the way your heart blooms in your chest as your best friend kisses you back. He releases a small noise of enjoyment into your mouth as you nibble over his bottom lip, and then he’s pushing his tongue into your mouth, and you’re making out, your figures lazily intertwined.

It feels so right to be kissing Peter that you briefly wonder why you’ve never tried this out before.

“I, um, I really like you, Y/N,” Peter whispers against you, when you finally pull back. Your lips tingle as you giggle into the air, your fingertips trailing through the soft strands of his chestnut hair. “In fact, I… I’ve been in love with you for months.”

Your mouth runs dry, and all you can really do to stop the tears of relief from slipping out of your eyes is lean in and kiss him again, hard. You kiss him like you’ve been dreaming about for months: slowly, passionately and lovingly - growing in tempo as you fervently try to convey everything you’ve kept hidden away inside your heart.

When you break away, you keep your lips nuzzled against his and breathe out a deep, “I love you too, Peter.”

You giggle together, and you feel so overcome with adoration for the boy that you simply have to kiss him again.

“D’you want to go on a date with me?” Peter asks gently, between gaps in your soft kisses. You finally move away from his lips and settle nearer, your forehead finding his chest as his arms encircle your waist and he holds you close in a warm, consuming cuddle.

“I would love to go on a date with you, Peter,” you mumble against his front. You smile softly as you feel his lips trail across your forehead, and your heart stirs happily in your chest.

“Okay,” he says, sounding immediately relieved. “I’m excited.”

You hum sleepily into his chest, your fingers curling around his strong back. “Me too,” you mumble.

“Night night, Y/N,” he says, his voice already being carried away as you drift further into dreamland. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Pete,” you reply. You know nothing else will compare to the feeling of being holed up in your best friends arms, with his lips scattering a dusting of kisses across your forehead, and you try to cling desperately to every single moment and sensation. “Sweet dreams.”

Peter leaves a final kiss on your forehead, and then you drift off to sleep with him, your figures entangled, and, for the first time, your hearts beating together as one.

------------

any feedback?

masterlist

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fanfic #peter!friends to lovers #friends to lovers

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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 3 years ago

Text

Fic: What We Don't Know Can't Hurt Us

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Librarian!Reader (cishet female) meet-cute

Warnings: No warnings really, some language and mention of masturbation and sex. Reader doesn't like kids. Yearning. Frankie is a TOTAL DILF SWEETHEART. Sad ending.

Summary: Reader is a librarian who has to temp at the kids' section desk from time to time which is a pain because she doesn't like kids. And who is a regular if not a very hot, scruffy-looking dad with the very polite and mild-mannered daughter? Sparks fly but some things maybe aren't meant to be.

Words: 5,155

a/n: Just to be clear, this one doesn't end well. I just wanted to write something sad, I guess.

Oh, shit, there he is again. The Hot Dad.

You straighten a little in your chair and once again curse the fact that you’re working in the children’s section at the library: the only desk that isn’t adjustable. You prefer to do your service desk duties standing up, not only for ergonomic reasons but because you hate how patrons look down on you – literally – when you’re seated by the desk. Also, you tend to slouch and it’s not an attractive look. And at the kids’ section, you’re all supposed to work on the same level as the little tykes. And you’re not particularly keen on those.

You are, however, keen on hot dads. God knows you only get them once in a blue moon and if they show up, it’s usually in tow of a whole clan of children and a wife. But this dad has been in once before when you’ve had desk duty and you saw him stop at the shelf for picture books about divorce and pick out a few. You also heard him tell his little girl that she shouldn’t bring the books she chose to her mom’s. Divorcee, so fantasizing was even more allowed – although he probably had a girlfriend. Guys like that always do.

“You don’t want to lose them, sweetie,” he had explained patiently to his daughter. “You can keep them in your room at my place but if you take them to your mom’s there’s a risk you lose them and that means I have to pay for them. You see, we’re only borrowing these books, that’s what you do in a library.”

You had smiled an inwards smile when listening to him. There was nothing you loved more than parents who actually seemed to understand that all the material in the library was free at one simple condition: return it in time, in the same condition as you borrowed it. A lot of people did not seem to grasp this and made a huge deal when they failed to meet these conditions and were faced with late fees or even had to compensate for lost books. But when parents who knew how to use a library include their offspring, explain how it all works for them, well, that’s how you foster a new generation of good library patrons.

This dad did just that. And he was very careful with the books, prompting his daughter to be the same. Every book she pulled out of the stacks, he helped her put back in the right place. That’s practically marriage material right there and it was enough to make you weak at the knees, to be honest. After almost ten years working in a public library, you were disillusioned about people in general and their intelligence in particular. Sure, you liked your job enough to not cry in the mornings when you had to leave bed, and you did enjoy the work itself (mostly), but… having to deal with people was exhausting. Having to deal with little people even more so, and the worst was having to deal with adult people who had little people with them. Parents.

Hence your absolute obsession with Hot Dad who was soft-spoken, really good with his kid, understood to appreciate the library and its services, nodded his hello to you when passing by the desk, didn’t make a mess, clearly read to his kid regularly and encouraged her to read for herself. You just didn’t get to see people like that so often, and it triggered your interest. You allowed yourself to daydream about him.

Francisco Morales. You remember his name from his last visit, when he and the kid came up to the desk with their haul. You always encouraged patrons to use the self-service check-out (the less you had to do deal with them, the better), but for this guy you were more than willing to go the extra service mile, even with the kid staring at your every move from across the desk as you registered all the loans. You silently gave her plus points for not trying to “help” like some kids did, and for the quiet but clear Thank you she gave you without prompting from her father.

You’re busying yourself with the returns, loading them onto a cart, when you hear a soft, deep voice go Excuse me behind your back. You twirl around and see Morales, pulling his baseball cap off his head to reveal curls that would make any hair model cry of envy.

“Sorry to bother you,” he offers. Take me now, you think to yourself but instead, you give him your brightest customer service smile, the one you rarely give patrons.

“No worries, how can I help?”

“We’re looking for picture books about farm animals. You don’t happen to have those separated? I noticed you have some subject areas separated.” He gestures back towards the picture book stacks where his daughter is quietly perusing.

“We don’t, but I think we have some Julia Donaldsons available, let me come and have a look.”

You don’t always offer. With most patrons, you’d tell them to look under D for Donaldson and then smile sweetly and ask them if they’re okay to do it themselves. You can’t do everything for everyone, that way they’ll never learn. But for Francisco Morales and his well-behaved little girl, you’re absolutely willing to make an exception.

There are some Donaldsons that the girl, whose name you learn is Sofia, eagerly accepts when you present her with them.

“I love fawm animals,” she sighs happily as she browses the first one. “Do you?”

“Who doesn’t love animals?” You make the effort to small talk although communicating with kids usually makes you awkward.

“What’s youw favowite? Mine is bunny. And howses. And lambs.”

“Goats! I love goats, they’re so cute and sweet and playful.” You almost add something about goats being the devil’s favorite animal as well but manage to stop yourself in time.

“Is there something else you want to ask the librarian?” Morales asks his daughter. “If not, I’m sure she has a lot of work to do, and we shouldn’t keep her any longer.”

“I’m here to help,” you shrug and give him a little smile: not a polite, impersonal one that you’d give a patron, but a more intimate one. A flirty smile. “You just need to ask.”

The smile he gives you back is warm and grateful, and you realize that he doesn’t have different facial expressions for different people. He doesn’t work in customer service because if he did, he’d know the difference. Not that you ever thought he worked in retail or anything like that, well, maybe a hardware store, but no. He just doesn’t seem like the type. The way he moves his body suggests something a lot more physical.

Oh, you’d like to get physical with him, alright…

All the sucky library-themed pick-up lines flash through your head. Can I check you out as an overnight loan? Can I insert my private collection into your empty stacks? My reference desk or yours? Am I being too loud, well, you’ll just have to shush me with your lips. You’re like an overdue library book because you have fine written all over you.

Worst part is, if Hot Dad Morales tried any of these on you, you’d probably forgive him and go for it. Maybe. You’re really not that simple, but a girl can dream, right?

The kid thanks you and you return to the relative safety of the desk and the mundane task of alphabetizing returns. You need to calm the fuck down and act professional. Daydreaming is fine but you’re barely toeing the line.

God, you need to get laid. As if that’s something that one can remedy just by walking into a store and ordering a medium dick with a side of hands and tongue.

📚📚📚

The next time you see Francisco and Sofia Morales, you’re taking your lunch break in the small park outside the library. It’s a sunny day and you didn’t fancy sitting in the breakroom with your salad, listening to colleagues talking about who cares what. So you took your lunch box, fork, and water bottle, and went to sit on the park bench the furthest away from the swing set and sandbox. The weather is nice and you enjoy yourself and your break from the library’s chat service. You never know what you’re gonna get when you work the chat: a stupid question about opening hours which anyone could google the answer to, or something more complicated like requests for books with partial or no titles, rarities, or subject areas that you don’t know much about. That’s when you get to use your whole competence and really dig deep, think outside the box, solve problems. You love it but it’s challenging at times, and takes a lot of energy. Your outdoor break is welcome.

“Hi!”

You hadn’t noticed the girl walking up to you and the greeting startles you.

“Oh, hi.”

“We’we wetuwning the animal books,” Sofia informs you seriously. You have to smile.

“Good job. You want more of those or something else this time?”

“Mowe. Will you help me find some?”

“I’m not working the desk at the children’s section today but my colleague there will absolutely help you. Just ask her.”

Now you see Morales walking towards you from the swing set, carrying the large, flowery canvas tote that says “book bag” he always brings to the library.

“Hello,” he nods with that warm smile that he definitely gives everyone. “Sofia, don’t disturb the lady on her break. I’m sure she wants some peace and quiet before she has to go back to work.”

Jesus fucking Christ. How does this man just know shit like this?

“I’m sowwy,” Sofia immediately offers. “I wanted to say hello.”

“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” you allow, although technically, he’s not wrong. “I’m almost done. It was nice to see you. I hope you have a good visit to the library.”

“Thank you!” She skips along and Morales chuckles as he takes off his baseball cap and scratches his head, swipes his long locks out of his forehead, then puts the hat back on.

“You’re her favorite, you know,” he tells you. When you raise your eyebrow, not comprehending, he hurries to elaborate. “Of the librarians. She says you’re the best.”

“Thank you, but whatever for?” You know you do a good enough job at your usual position and that your regulars appreciate you, but you are also very aware of not being at your finest in the kids’ section.

“You have to ask her,” Morales grins as he looks out for his kid, who has returned to the swing set and is pumping her legs on the swing, brows knitted in concentration. “But she’s very taken with you. I think it’s because you’re very calm and focused with her.”

Calm and focused??? You almost laugh out loud. That’s everything you’re not when you’re at the kids’ desk.

“Thanks,” you manage, because you have to say something.

“She’s also really interested in your tattoos and I definitely think she wants to get her nose pierced now,” Morales goes on. “I told her that we don’t comment on people’s appearance, but just a heads up, she might ask you about those.”

Ah, the unpredictability of children.

“I appreciate it.” You really do. You don’t mind talking about your tattoos or the septum ring you have but if a kid suddenly asks about it, you’d rather be prepared.

“Anyway, sorry to intrude on your lunch.”

“No worries,” you reassure him. “You can… sit down for a while if you want to? I have ten minutes left.”

Your heart beats faster at your proposal. It’s not exactly appropriate but you just want to enjoy his company for a moment. And discreetly sniff him because he smells so fucking good, woodsy and smokey but with a hint of… vanilla? You’re terrible at recognizing smells but it reminds you of some aroma reeds you had a couple of years ago that smelled like a wood cabin with vanilla sugar spilled on the floor. You loved it but like everything you love, it was discontinued.

Morales looks over at his daughter before nodding, the book bag slipping down from his shoulder as he places it next to the bench.

“If you’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.”

He likes your straightforward answer, you can tell from how his eyes crinkle a little and how relaxed his body language is when he sits down.

“I’m Frankie, by the way,” he says, like he just remembered that introductions are a normal part of human interaction. He extends his right hand to you and as you accept it and tell him your name, you can’t help but marvel at how huge his hand is. Big, warm, slightly damp but not in a weird way.

“Nice to meet you, Frankie.” Frankie. Francisco Morales is Frankie. It suits him better than Francisco, to be honest.

“And that’s Sofia.” He points to the girl who seems content swinging by herself. You realize you’re expected to say something nice about her to the proud dad.

“She seems sweet.”

“Yeah, she’s awesome. And she loves coming to the library, it’s all she talks about when I have her.” He clears his throat and adds: “Her mother and I got divorced quite recently. I only get her five days every other week.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Shit, it’s divorce and custody talk from the start. You have no idea how to respond to that.

“That’s life,” he shrugs, “but I figured that going to the library every time I get her could be a good routine to ground her. And then we have books that we can read together for her entire stay.”

It’s definitely a good routine as far as you can tell.

“When I was between nine and thirteen years old, my dad would take me to the local library every Monday evening,” you tell him, smiling at the memory. “My dad never opened a book in his life but he patiently read the auto and tech magazines while I collected half the kids’ section with me. When I went to tell him that I was done, he always pretended to object to the amounts, but then he’d help me carry it all to the car.”

As you tell him this, you’re looking at him, no, staring at the patchy, grey-splashed beard he’s sporting. It’s the most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen. What’s the story there, why doesn’t it grow evenly? Is this a thing? You don’t have enough experience in the field of facial hair. Is it genetic? Is it always like this?

He keeps looking at his daughter as he listens to you with a small smile on his face, clearly enjoying your little anecdote.

“That’s lovely,” he says, turning his attention back to you when you’re finished. “Dads and daughters, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

You pick up your phone to check the time. Shit. You have to return to the chat.

“I gotta go. Lunch break’s over.”

You collect your things and stand up, brushing off your skirt. Frankie stands up as well and picks up the book bag.

“I’ll see you in there?”

“I’m not a the desk today.”

“Oh.” He seems disappointed, his eyes flickering from you to the ground. “That’s too bad.”

“And the kids' section isn't my primary department.”

“The bad news just keep on coming, don't they,” he jokes as the two of you start to walk towards the entrance. Sofia jumps from the swing and comes running.

“She's not at the desk today, daddy,” she tells Frankie precociously.

“I know, mija. We'll have to ask someone else about the animal books, okay?”

Sofia doesn't seem too happy with this solution but nods. You take your leave before she has the opportunity to ask about your body modifications, and disappear through a door marked “Staff Only”.

📚📚📚

The following weeks you seem to see Frankie everywhere. You run into him at the supermarket and get drafted into advicing him on what cereal to buy for his kid. “Something healthy, but good so she'll actually eat it.” How the hell should I know? you want to scoff, but you're simping for him enough to help him choose something you'd never in a thousand years touch yourself. You see him in town one afternoon when you're running errands and he suggests you grab a coffee - holy hell, in your book that's a fucking date - but you decline as kindly as you can, citing a busy schedule when in fact you're mostly just scared out of your mind. The daydream is becoming a little too real and you're absolutely not ready for that, especially not because of the kid. If it wasn't for Sofia, you could have dared the leap, but dating a guy relatively fresh out of a marriage, and with a kid to boot? No, that's asking for trouble and you don't want trouble.

One afternoon at the kids' desk, you once again get to help Sofia find books, this time on sharks.

“She went from farm animals to sharks in one week,” Frankie confides in you when the girl is sitting quietly in a reading nook, carefully studying every page and occasionally widening her eyes at what you suspect is pictures of shark teeth. “It's sharks this and sharks that. She asks if there are sharks in every body of water she sees, from the pond in the park to the ditch outside my parents' house.”

“Have her watch Jaws and she will never want to think about sharks ever again,” you suggest, earning a laugh although the idea was probably a little bit on the morbid side.

“Maybe, but that would probably scar her for life. I actually want her to learn how to swim.”

“Then best not.”

You pick up a couple of books someone else left behind on a table and make a gesture that says I have to re-shelve these, come with and Frankie follows you to the right shelf.

“You know, she talks about you as her friend at the library.”

Now, some people would find that adorable but you don't. You're not friends with this kid, you're in a position where you could possibly influence her keenness to literature and literacy but you will always risk critique from her guardians. Being a children's librarian is like a hybrid between being in customer service, and being a teacher. You get to form young malleable minds but you are always subjected to criticism, even when you've done nothing wrong. Kids are patrons, like adults, and to have them see you as friends is only going to complicate things.

“That's nice,” you reply carefully, not really sure what else to say. It's so hard to talk to parents sometimes, one wrong words and you're basically Satan, you can't know because you don't have kids yourself, how dare you not worship the ground my offspring just vomited all over?

“You're definitely her favorite librarian.”

That you can take. You have a couple of adult patrons who come in regularly and prefer to get their reading recommendations from you. They always have time to discuss literature and they bring you a box of chocolates for Christmas.

“Well, she's easy to help. She always knows what she wants and she's polite. And quite easy to please,” you smile, meaning every word. You don't mention that the only time you like kids is when they're like Sofia is right now: reading quietly in a corner, handling the books with care.

“You're my favorite librarian as well,” Frankie adds, and now that sweet smile he's always wearing when you see him is shy. There's definitely a red tinge on his cheekbones as well and it makes you want to lean forward and kiss him on his goddamn mouth with that goddamn full lower lip that he sometimes sucks into his mouth or fucking licks...

“How many librarians do you know?” you ask and manage to sound easy-going, or at least you think so. The laugh Frankie produces is low and rolling and it makes your stomach coil in on itself. Fuck him and that deep voice he rode in on!

“Got me there. It's basically you and Mrs Wilkerson, the school librarian who scared the shit out of me when I was in elementary school. She made sure I didn't step foot in a library until, well, now.”

“Oh, I so wanted to be a librarian like that when I was a kid!” You grin at Frankie's horrified expression. “No, no, hear me out! I always had this idea that those librarians led these super rich, fulfilling lives as night-time vigilantes or that they were actually millionaires who spent their free time floating around in pools with fancy drinks in hand.”

“Were you... a normal child, besides these illusions?” Frankie teases you and before you can stop yourself, you're slapping his arm playfully. Like a girlfriend would. Or someone more intimate than a Favorite Librarian, at any rate.

“I'll have you know that the voices in my head are saying that we had a very normal and healthy childhood,” you reply with as much dignity as you can muster, while desperately wishing for the phone to ring or another patron to ask for your help. But no, the ones present seem to be managing on their own - except for one mom who seemed to have overheard your joke because she is now staring at you with hesitation in her eyes.

It's Sofia who comes to your rescue with her request of being taken to the bathroom. By the time she and Frankie are done there, your colleague has come to relieve you of your duties at the children's section.

📚📚📚

You knew of course that it was coming. You may not be that experienced in the terms of dating and relationships but you weren't stupid and you had some experience: Frankie was going to ask you out. It had to happen. Technically, it had already happened that afternoon in town when he asked you out for coffee. He maybe didn't see it as a date, but you certainly did.

It happened when you had just started your shift in the children's section and it was a fucking mess. A class of kindergarteners had just left and the teachers hadn't bothered to keep them in check, so there were not only books on every available surface, they were also put in the wrong way and in the wrong places. Your colleague who you were relieving stayed behind to help you, feeling too bad to leave it all to you.

That's when Daddy and Daughter Morales showed up. You weren't really happy about the existence of kids in the first place but made an effort for Sofia, who brought you a drawing she had made in preschool that day. It featured some figures in green, slightly reminiscent of animals and one human but you wouldn't be able to tell. Luckily, Frankie explained it to you.

“She's waited all day to give you this drawing of you with goats.”

“Wow,” you manage. “Thank you, Sofia, this was so kind of you.”

The girl is beaming with pride. “Will you put it on the wall?”

“Super probably!”

“I can see you're busy,” Frankie notes and ushers Sofia along. “We won't distract you. Come on, honey, let her do her job now and maybe you'll get to talk to her later.”

You nod your thanks and focus on cleaning up the entire department before you colleague leaves and Frankie and Sofia come to the desk to borrow this week' picks. Sofia seems uncharacteristically giddy.

“Do you want to come with us to the awbowetum?” she asks with a wide, expectant smile. Fuck shit ass hell.

“We're going on Saturday,” Frankie fills in, “and we were both hoping you'd want to join?”

Saturday. Thank goodness.

“Sorry, I work on Saturday,” you say, trying to sound rueful. It's true and you're relieved about not having to lie. “But thanks, it's sweet of you to ask.”

Sofia is clearly disappointed and so is Frankie, but he masks it better.

“Some other time, yeah?”

If it were only him, you'd tell him it wasn't a good idea. But you can't say that with the kid right in front of you. You may not like kids but that doesn't mean you want to scar them for life.

“Yeah, maybe.”

You loan them the books and as they leave, Sofia waves happily at you and Frankie shoots you one last smile that makes you press your thighs together in your seat.

Come Saturday, you're by your usual desk in the section for adult fiction and you almost fall off your chair when you see Frankie come up the stairs and straight up to the desk.

“Hi.” He's had a haircut and a shave and looks different. Still good, but very different. The dark locks of his hair are more tamed. The mustache is still there but you miss the patchy beard.

“Um, hi? Where's Sofia?”

“In the car, with a friend. We're going to the arboretum.”

“Right. I hope you have a good time, the arboretum's lovely.” You still don't understand what he's doing here and he seems to have some difficulty in telling you. Moving his weight from one foot to the other, he scratches his neck and looks down - why does he have to be so freaking cute? - before looking up at you.

“About that... I wanted to apologize. I wasn't sure it was a good idea to ask you to come with, but Sofia was so persistent. She likes you so much. I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. I'm sorry.”

“That's alright,” you brush it off because there's not really anything else you can say. “Don't think about it, just go have a good day.”

“I also wanted to ask if you wanted to go grab a drink with me. Just me. Maybe next week when Sofia's at her mother's.”

Fuck, there it is. His hopeful face makes you hate yourself for the answer you have to give.

“I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Frankie,” you begin carefully. “I'm really flattered, but you're... recently divorced with a kid. That's a lot of baggage and things could get complicated. I don't want to get caught up in that.”

You've practiced this speech at home but it still breaks your fucking heart because Frankie is so good-looking, kind, funny, and sweet. You would've asked him out yourself already if it wasn't for the baggage. Fuck, you masturbate to the thought of him, for crying out loud! You imagine what it would be like to be with him, to make dinner together and watch movies and go to bed and wake up in each other's arms. You think about sex with him a lot. You make an effort with your appearance those days you know he'll show up at the library, you don't even mind the kids' section that much anymore because you get to talk to him.

You are fucking in love with him, or at least the idea of him because you don't know much about him, only that he used to be a pilot in the special forces but now he trains new pilots, he has best friends who are like uncles to Sofia (and who have been asking about this mystery librarian she always keeps talking about), he likes cooking and loves baking with his daughter, he hates working out but knows he should take better care of himself, hell, you even know what brand of milk he buys.

He's clearly disappointed but keeps a brave face, one that you can see right through because he wears his heart on his sleeve.

“I understand that,” he says quietly, mildly. “I'm sorry, I hope I didn't embarrass you.”

Jesus fucking Christ can this man not???

“No, don't worry. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the answer you wanted. It's just... not a good time.”

Shit. You shouldn't have said that. Now he might think it could be a better time later.

Frankie nods and smiles sadly. “Yeah, you're probably right.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He clears his throat and nods. “I better be going. You have a good weekend now.”

“You too.”

He shoots you one final smile before he turns around and leaves. As you watch him go down the stairs to the exit level, you just want to call his name, do your run through the airport and hurry after him, throw yourself into his arms, kiss him, Jesus, imagine that somewhere there's someone who'll get to kiss him some day, tell him that you made a huge mistake and you want to go out with him, you want to have drinks with him and dinner and breakfast and lunch for the rest of your lives because nothing would make you happier than making him happy. You want to be the reason his eyes crinkle and his cheek displays that little dimple that makes you lose your train of thought every time you see it.

But it's not for you. People with kids need to prioritize their kids and you know that you can't be anyone's number two. You don't want to get caught up in custody disputes, you don't want to be "your father's new slut", you don't want to be anyone's stepmom. You don't want to have to spend five days a week in the same house as a five-year-old. Being in a relationship is difficult enough as it is and if you can make choices that avoid some of the problems, you're going to make them, no matter how much it hurts.

And it hurts. A lot. But so much in life hurts and you've made it through before.

He must already be out the door, probably in the car. Does he say something about this to his daughter and friend? Is it a female friend? No, it must be one of his army buddies, probably one of the brothers.

You pull up Frankie's profile in the library database and see his phone number. You could call him anytime. Or send a text. Keep talking to him, flirting.

Shit. It's a bad idea.

A patron approaches the desk and you force yourself to look mild and service-minded.

“Hi, do you have Hate To Want You by someone called... Ray, I think?”

“Please hold a moment, I'll check.” You stifle the sigh that threatens to escape you and hope that the day will be busy so you won't have time to think about Francisco Morales again.

#my fic #triple frontier #francisco catfish morales #francisco frankie morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader

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trumpkinhotboy · 4 years ago

Text

All in good time

Pairing: Jacob Black x f!reader

Type: Not requested

Genre: Kinda fluffy i'd say

Warnings: None!

Rating: g

Requests: Open (for Narnia and Twilight, maybe?😳)

A/n: Alright, alright, I know I said this blog was going to be centralized on Narnia stuff, but lately I've really gotten back in my Twilight phase🥴 Plus, I had a really shitty week and needed a pick me up. Jacob is one of my biggest comfort characters so I felt it was only suiting. I hope you'll enjoy it😬 I suggest reading this while listening to any kind of Twilight ambiance playlist.☺Also, I know my title sucks HAHA. Couldn't think of anything better so yea, I'm sorry, but this is what you get

Update: changed my title huhu!

* gif is not mine!!

There were days that just deeply and inherently... sucked. Days where everything seemed out of rhythm, where no matter how hard you tried, it all seemed wrong; it all fell apart.

Today was one of those days. When your dad jokingly said: "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed." you did not think it the tiniest of bit funny. When you opened one of the kitchen cabinets to get your favorite brand of cereals and found an empty box, you almost threw a full-on seven-year-old crying on the floor tantrum. Especially when you saw the half-emptied bowl sitting in the sink. Too bad, no breakfast for you this morning. Ridiculous, immature, and not changing anything? Yes, of course, but you still did it out of pure spite. As if that would punish anyone else than you.

Like any other day in Forks, it was raining, nothing awful here, if it was not for the fact that the window on the driver’s side hadn’t been properly closed. Your seat was by now totally drenched. With your pants completely soaked you rode to school, your knuckles turning white from angrily gripping the wheel. Once you arrived, it seemed that everyone was annoyingly happy and enthusiastic while you just couldn’t get out of your personal, unchangeable, black cloud. Not to help, your friends only kept making fun of your moody behavior. Could you not be taken seriously on one of your worst days?

In your least favorite class, you were horrified to see written in big letters on the board:

“20% exam!! Leave your personal effects in front of the class.”

You would have run away if it wasn’t for the flow of students coming in to push you further in the classroom. Convinced the exam was for the next week, you did not even open the pages of your manual concerning the subject. It is with panic and exasperation that you sat at your desk waiting for your doom. Did you need to add that along with all that bull crap of a day, the only person who could have made your day a little less annoying was, once again missing. No calls, no texts, no news, nothing. Probably on another mission with the rest of his mutant gang. You got to the Rez after school, hoping you would see him, but were only welcomed by Leah and Seth. It almost felt like they were waiting for you as they were sitting outside of Billy’s house. Why they were the only ones left here was a mystery for you. The pack usually always stayed together.

- “Where are the others?”

- “On some kind of mission around the lands.”

- “Is everything alright?” They nodded nonchalantly. “Then why are you two here?”

The answer Seth gave you while chewing loudly on yet, another snack, made you grith your teeth so hard he thought they were going to fall out of your mouth.

- “To protect you.”

- “I thought it was nothing, so why would I need protection?”.

- “You should talk about it with Black. He’s the one who ordered us to stay to watch over you or something.”

- “I am PERFECTLY capable of WATCHING OVER MYSELF.” you answered a little louder than expected, anger rumbling in your chest. That earned you some awkward looks from your two friends, but at this point, it didn’t even matter, you were seeing red.

Leah, never intimated by you, shrugged her shoulders. Seth looking a little bit more nervous still laughed at your display of anger. Jacob was the one assigning babysitters over you? Of course, you and he would have a little discussion, that mutt would not see it coming.

When you got back home, you called your father to warn him; there was no way you would be cooking dinner. With your luck, it wouldn’t be a surprise if you burnt the whole house down. Fortunately, he was in good mood (unfair) and answered there was no problem; he would get pizza. He got home with the box in hand and a “Hey sweet...heart”. One quick look at your rough appearance and frustrated expression and his mouth closed shut. He dropped politely, almost carefully, a plate with a slice of pizza before quickly leaving for the couch. You mostly played with the food, incapable of swallowing it down, looking at the forest many times, waiting, expecting to see a tall figure appear on its verge but nothing. Time passed, still no sign of life. There was no way that by now Leah or Seth didn’t give him your message. You had time to wash the dishes, do some homework, and get in your sweats. At 7:30 pm you gave up; he wasn’t coming. Your father was still watching TV, completely oblivious to your growing anger. You picked up his plate to put it in the sink but tripped and dropped it, the delicate plate exploded into a thousand pieces.

- “Y/n? Everything okay?”

- “Y..ea.. an accident. I’ll pick it up.”

There was a slight tremolo in your voice. That was it. Your day had been terrible with no sign of sun, and this broken plate would be your breaking point as ridiculous as it sounded. You leaned on the counter, head hanging low, feeling tears of frustration swelling up in your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you looked up; in a second you were out the back door.

- “Where you going?” you heard your father ask.

- “Getting the trash out.”

The figure backed in the woods as you rushed into them without hesitation. You smacked against something big and warm, warmer than it was normal to be, yet you had become quite accustomed to it.

- “You little piece of shit.” your index finger digging in his chest. “You weren’t even here today, and it was terrible, and you can’t do this. I do not need any PROTECTION. Oh my god, do you really think I am weak and helpless without you or Leah or Seth or ANY werewolf to protect me?!”

He didn’t interrupt your monologue, only looking at you spitting your anger out.

- “You are SO annoying. Honestly who- who do you think you- are?! I’m- I am not, I can DEFINITELY, I don’t ne-eed any-one.” Your speech was becoming less and less coherent, your emotions taking control of your mind.

Without waiting any longer for you to finish your incoherent thought, he pulled you in for one of his signature bear hugs.

- “You can’t do this to me I’m an-ang-angry...”.

- “Shhh, it’s okay.”

- “You-you weren’t there.” you gave up fighting him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

- “I’m sorry, Leah told me.”

- “Wh- why didn’t you come sooner?” you continued, sobbing.

- “Some wolf things, Paul got in trouble.“ you backed off, immediately lifting your head at the mention of one of your friends in trouble.

- “Is he okay?”

- “Of course, he is, but Sam was very upset this time.” he stroked the side of your face with a small smile. “Enough with the boys, tell me what's wrong.”

- “Everything. I left my car window opened my seat was drenched. At school, everyone was disgustingly happy and in a good mood. I did not know I had an exam, I didn’t even study the subject. And this morning, my dad half ate the rest of my favorites cereals, and then I didn’t eat anything else as a silent protest, I know that’s stupid, but”

- “You didn’t eat anything else?”

- “Yeah, but I…” you lifted your gaze to meet his disapproving one. “I mean, I must have eaten a snack at lunch today…”

- “Must have?” he looked angrier.

- “Y/n??? Where are you??”

The calling of your father interrupted your conversation; he looked in its direction.

- “You should go back inside before your dad comes out.”

- “What? No, please. Can’t you kidnap me for tonight?” he chuckled lightly.

- “Trust me, go back in, okay?”

You looked at him unsure, even though you knew he was worthy of your trust. You finally nodded before running back inside.

- “What took you so long?”

- “Oh, uh, I thought I saw something and got a little carried away.”

- “Mokay, I don’t like you being so close to the woods. We’ve still had a few complaints about some trekkers finding traces of big animals in the woods. I’d prefer you be careful, alright?” You held up a smile, thinking about your friend just outside.

- “Sure.”

You stayed in the middle of the living room, expecting, waiting to see Jacob’s next move. You expected something quick, but when ten minutes later, there were still no signs of him, you felt frustration rising again. Not sure what to do now, you sat next to your father, half paying attention to what was happening on the screen. If he just left you, he was going to pay for it. You needed him, and just like that, he was gone? Probably, got called away by Sam again. Maybe it wasn’t in his control? But if it was…

Knock. Knock.

You looked up, surprised. The door opened with a creaking sound.

- “Oh, Jacob. Hi, what are you doing here?”

- “Hi Charlie, I heard Y/n had a pretty bad day. Came to kidnap her, if that's okay?”

- “Bad day? That’s an understatement. I swear, at one point, I thought she was going to scream at me. I ate her last bowl of cereal this morning; the thing was disgusting, I only ate half of it. I don’t think that helped.” You heard your friend’s low chuckle. Your dad seemed to feel pretty guilty about his crime, which did make you feel a tad bit better. “But yeah sure. Y/n! You have a visitor.”

You walked to them, Jacob awkwardly fitting in your small house; he seemed so disproportionate with his imposing size. For once, he was wearing actual clothes, a shirt and a pair of jeans, a sign he wasn’t planning on having to transform tonight. A sign that he was planning on being entirely dedicated to you.

- “Ready to go? I’m kidnaping you.” He said that last part with a smirk, a hint to your previous request.

- “Sure.” You grabbed your coat, said goodbye to your dad, and left without waiting any longer.

First, he took you away to get some food in you. It wasn’t until your teeth were digging inside a delicious burger that you realized just how hungry you were. Jacob being the glutton that he is, ordered two cheeseburgers along with a pack of large fries. You went for a milkshake, the perfect dessert for a night like this, and took your victuals to the La Push beach. It was empty and peaceful; the sun was slowly going down, the wind just a whisper in the night. It wasn’t even that cold, but the excuse to snuggle into Jake’s wolfish warmth was too good to pass.

- “Feeling better?” he asked while wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

- “Yes. Thanks, Jake.”

- “Kidnapping mission was a success?”

- “Yes, it was.” You answered with a smile.

- “Alright.” He muttered under his breath, looking in the distance.

You stayed for a while in comfortable silence, simply enjoying the other’s presence.

- “So, what were you saying about me not being there today, like that made your day worst?”

His question took you by surprise. A look at his cocky expression was all it took you to punch him in the ribs as hard as you could.

- “You wish idiot.”

He laughed at your attack, he probably didn't even feel a thing but leveled his face with yours in all seriousness.

- “You can avoid this conversation for now since you had a shit day and all, but keep in mind, it’s not over.”

- “And you keep in mind that our discussion about you ordering werewolves to stay behind to protect me, is not over. You won’t get away easily with that one Black.”

He laughed again, visibly amused with your threat. You laughed too but were slightly less amused. These two conversations were important ones, although one you apprehended way more. You looked at Jacob's happy expression and felt a fuzzy feeling warming your body. No, right now was not the time for such serious topics.

All in good time, right?

...

Tagging my two gals because they know how nervous I was😭...@imjustdreamingig @gonzalezyon I did it gals🥺 I hope you'll like it, thank you so much for your support💕💕

#ilya writes ❤#jacob black #jacob black x f!reader #jacob black x reader #jacob black fic #twilight #taylor lautner #twilight saga #wolves #werewolves

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andraaste · 3 years ago

Text

I am not your enemy - Lance fanfiction part 15

No, you’re not dreaming, here is indeed chapter 15 ! I sincerely hope you’ll enjoy it 💕 (and please, forgive me for the quality of the translation 😭)

Chapter 15 : We’re going to make a deal, you and me

- Good evening, my little dragon.

I closed my eyes for a moment to savor the sound of his voice in my ear, feeling like an eternity had passed since the last time we were alone. At this probably late hour, the corridor was quiet, there was hardly anyone to surprise us which helped me to let myself go and take advantage of his proximity.

- Good evening, I answered, amused to hear him call me like that a second time, the first being when his ice had mingled with my breath.

I felt his lips in turn sketch a big smile close to my head. Running one of his hands to the doorknob of his bedroom door, he opened it before placing his two palms on my hips to push me into the room, leaving me no possibility of stealing away. Once inside, he closed the door behind us with a snap. I took the opportunity to finally turn to him and remained speechless for a moment.

Lance was visibly coming out of the shower as his loose hair was dripping onto his black t-shirt and the rolled up towel he had laid casually on the back of his neck. His locks, an almost bluish white, fell wildly on his face, making him look younger than I had ever seen him before.

I literally thought I was fainting when he looked at me with his eyes both icy and burning under the barrier of his frivolous locks.

My God, he was so beautiful.

- How are you feeling ? I went to see you in the infirmary but you were snoring pretty loud, I didn't want to wake you up, he said seriously before bursting into a frank laugh at my bewildered look.

I really hoped I hadn't done this.

- I'm much better, thank you, I replied, giving him a grimace in passing. And at least I hope you liked it, otherwise I don't know how to go about looking attractive.

Approaching with a bemused air, a thin amused smile stuck on his face, he slipped his hands under my neck until his fingers came to mingle fiercely at the base of my scalp, thus tilting my head in his direction and giving birth to light currents of energy on the smallest bit of skin he touched.

- I'm really reassured, he confessed intensely, before resuming in a much lighter tone. Your snores are the sexiest I've heard, don't doubt it. Besides, if you hadn't been bleeding, I would most likely have had a hard time resisting your charm.

I couldn’t help but laugh in my turn at his nonsense. I wasn't sure if I'd ever seen him so relaxed before, but I liked it more than I dared admit.

- In that case, I'll try to be careful not to look too attractive, you shouldn't give up.

As if to prove my words right, his intense gaze drifted shamelessly to my lips, giving rise to a new sensation in my lower stomach. His expression, meanwhile become indecipherable, literally hung on me at the slightest of his movements, my heart pounding so hard I was sure it could almost become audible.

But it was with disappointment that I felt him slowly let go of me, brushing my neck with a tiny involuntary caress.

- You’re right. I unfortunately have the impression of not being far from it, at times.

Suddenly absent, he lost himself for a few seconds in contemplating the void behind me, which allowed me to observe him more openly. I was about to answer him when his voice echoed between us again.

- You look much healthier than yesterday, anyway. Besides, were you able to eat something ?

Oh. How could I tell him that the only thought I had in my head when I woke up in the infirmary had been to see him, before even thinking of anything else ?

Realizing he was right, I rubbed a hand on my stomach as a low gurgling sound was heard.

- Uh... not yet, I said, caught in the act. In fact, I didn't have time to take a shower either.

A new smile surreptitiously dawned on his lips.

- Was the little human in too much of a hurry to find me ?

- No matter what, I defended myself, looking away, the blush rising in my cheeks. I just walked past your room before arriving at mine. And then, you didn't give me the choice to enter, I'll call you back.

- It's true that you seemed completely against it, he said ironically.

This idiot was having too much fun with the situation for my liking, so I decided to fake my departure.

- Well now that I'm gone, I'll be able to go take care of all that. I'll probably see you tomorrow, Lance.

My light tone didn't seem to baffle him for a second. I walked around him to make my way to the exit while watching him out of the corner of my eye casually remove the wet towel from his neck. But, when my fingers were about to engage the handle, a dark-skinned hand suddenly entered my field of vision, coming to rest with authority on the wooden frame, keeping the door firmly closed. His breath tickled my cheek.

- Alright, we're going to make a deal, you and me, he began. You can go take a shower, but then you meet me here. I take care of the rest.

- When you say "the rest", do you mean that I take my meal in your room ?

- It's almost midnight, the refectory is closed but Karuto is still in the kitchen. I know very well that he will make an effort for you, on the other hand he will never let you eat on the spot when he has just cleaned the room.

I did indeed imagine Karuto reacting that way, which made me laugh.

- What if I don't accept ?

- Who said you have the choice ? he wondered, breaking into a broad, confident smile.

I crossed my arms, an eyebrow raised and an amused pout.

- Isn't a deal just supposed to be accepted by both parties ?

He withdrew his hand before shrugging, feigning innocence.

- Call it what you want as long as your butt comes back quickly here, and know that I will not hesitate to come and get you myself if necessary, he concluded with an air that didn’t leave the leisure refuse.

This man was just incorrigible, but for once I must say I was ready to listen to him very wisely.

Once my shower was finished, I quickly went to my room to put on some clean clothes. Was I stressed about joining Lance ?

Totally.

With a lump in my stomach, I knocked on his door and then entered without waiting for an answer. Leaning over a book with an ancient cover, the dragon seemed to be searching for something in these pages yellowed by time. Crouching on the ground, his long top hair fell over his eyes, hiding part of his concentrated face.

I walked into the room as he carefully closed the book, straightening up in the process.

- Hey, I said softly, stopping near him. What are you looking for ?

Seeming relieved to see me come back, he grabbed me delicately by the waist to plant a kiss on the top of my head, making my poor heart resume its frantic run.

- Hey, he replied calmly while releasing me, as if nothing had happened. I go through all of the HQ books relating to the three great races of Eldarya, including dragons and aengels, but I can't find anything similar to what's happening between our powers. I almost wonder if this phenomenon isn’t totally apart, even if it’s quite insane.

Tilting my head to the side, I observed the old cover he still held between his fingers before noticing that the title was written in Greek. Turning my head in the direction of the bookcase that adorned the wall beside me, I was amazed to discover that it was filled with a multitude of alphabets that I was unable to read.

I returned my attention to him.

- Maybe this is information that has been intentionally suppressed ?

He seemed to think about my guess, his gaze in turn lost on the covers.

- At the point where we are, I think anything is possible.

He tried to push the wicks that blocked his view with a passage of his hand, but they immediately returned to their place, which made him look incredibly... wild.

And sexy.

When he returned his attention to me again, I had the unpleasant feeling that my thoughts were on my face, which probably made me turn crimson. Fortunately, the dragon seemed in a calm mood and did’nt get up.

- Are you hungry ?

His question caught me off guard, I had totally forgotten that point of our "deal", if I could really call it that. Lance went to get a tray on his desk, on which sat a real full meal. So he wasn't laughing when he said that Karuto would agree to do this for me, I clearly hadn't expected that much.

He put the tray down on his bed and invited me to sit down.

- I don't really have a suitable place to eat here... I hope it will be okay anyway.

My heart warmed even more at his attention. I felt... good, to be completely honest.

- It’ll be very good, don’t worry. Thank you so much.

I sat down and began to eat timidly at first, then with more and more appetite as my hunger aroused. By the time I swallowed my meal, the dragon had returned to his activities, leaving me plenty of time to observe him.

Entirely dressed in black, only the color of his hair contrasted, highlighting the trace of his scar on the back of his neck. It was the first time that I had seen it almost entirely, it ending its way under his top.

Leiftan's words came back to me then. This scar, it was probably the wound with which he had been made dead, becoming as a result of this incident the character of Ashkore. What had happened to him, exactly ? The aengel had described it as his only weak point, which was why he never went out without covering the back of his neck. But another question was bothering me.

Did he ever show it openly to others, as he was doing with me now ?

My gaze fell on his back, which was both wide and slender. Our relationship was progressing step by step, it was a fact, but had it evolved so much without me realizing it ?

It was true that we had kissed, but this incident had only happened once. I had reacted with my deepest fears, seeking some comfort in the arms of the only person who had actually seen me. And, in truth, Lance had ultimately only responded to my urges.

But, calmly, what was it then ?

I ended up swallowing my entire meal, and it was with a full stomach that I got up to put the tray back in its original place. Probably remembering my presence, the young man decided to stop his research and put back the books he had taken out. I decided to join him, placing myself at his side in order to help him.

- Did you manage to find something ? I questioned him, cascading my long black hair down behind my shoulder.

- Not at all.

Leaning forward slightly, he came to rub his face with both hands, looking visibly overwhelmed at not finding any information that could be of use to him.

- I didn't find anything about your connection with Leiftan either, to believe that these phenomena are totally unique to you, he said while giving me a sideways glance. You really have something special, no matter what you think of it.

I pretended to be focused on my task to hide the cloudy feeling his assertion gave me.

- Something special, that's for sure. I'm sure there hasn't been any aengel before me that's been on the verge of death because she couldn't pull out her poor wings.

Lance laughed frankly at my reflection, visibly amused by my jaded expression.

- On the verge of death, exactly ?

- Obviously ! And don't laugh, it's a lot more complicated than you think, I continued on the same length.

His gaze much sharper than a moment earlier, made butterflies born in my stomach. I liked to see him come alive when one of our discussions amused him.

- Indeed, I had forgotten that I did’nt know what it was like to have wings, he quipped before nimbly intercepting my vain attack on his shoulder, making resonate again his hoarse laughter as his hand decided not to let go of mine.

- You will end up hurting yourself, I will prevent you for your good.

Personally, I used to call it an oversized ego. I assumed, however, that it was too late to make up for this point on him.

- Besides, you could see your back when you went to take your shower ?

- Yes, I said, remembering the image of my skin, it strangely almost healed. We hardly distinguish anything, there are only a few traces of bruising. I don't understand, yesterday I passed out because of this, and today... it's like there never was anything.

The dragon was silent for a moment, probably analyzing my words.

- It's already a good thing that it has improved, even if I understand your frustration at not reacting in a "normal" way, let's say.

I stopped, my free hand resting on a book and my gaze fixed in front of me. That was it, he was right. Although in this particular case it was a good thing, my body was once again reacting in an abnormal, inexplicable way, and it was this point that bothered me the most.

Without ever showing anything, Lance always listened attentively to the slightest of my silences.

Sometimes I felt like he understood me better than I did.

I turned my attention back to him and was surprised to fall directly on his gaze of such cold blue and such deep intensity, that I lost myself in it without any escape. His hand finally let go of mine to move up my arm, stopping its course when his long, thin fingers reached my cheek. When these slid down the back of my neck, I instinctively turned my face in his direction.

Just before his lips caught mine bluntly.

I in turn buried my fingers in his hair while responding eagerly to his kiss. Without warning, his other arm wrapped around my waist to lift me up against him, pinning my legs on either side of his hips. In two long strides, Lance turned off the overhead light to turn on a new, much more intimate one, then laid me confidently on the mattress. His body positioned just above me, I pushed him to stand up with my hands against his chest, following him in his race. When he found himself only leaning on his knees, I lifted his dark t-shirt to pull it over his head. The dragon helped me without flinching, rolling his muscles under his tanned skin as he sent the garment to graze.

Without giving me time to do anything, he made me tilt back again so as to come over me completely. Catching my hips with his large hands, he slid me so that I was pushed up higher in the bed.

I grabbed the hem of my t-shirt and pulled on it, quickly baring my stomach and then my chest. Lance didn't have the patience to wait for me to finish removing it to take it to the next level. With dexterity, he was already unbuttoning my pants with one hand while kissing each part of my body which was revealed little by little, then, with a sharp and precise movement, he pulled on them in order to slide first my buttocks then my legs, until I remove it completely.

Only wearing my panties, I dug my fingers into the quilt above my head under his feverish gaze. He continued to kiss my body, varying sometimes between a nibble or a lick on my burning skin, his eyes disappearing in the wake of his messy hair as he started the slope of my curves.

When I felt my underwear slide over my thighs, his kisses became softer, deeper. He parted my legs with his suddenly patient hands, stroking my thin skin in a slow trajectory as he positioned himself lower.

My breath quickened in a split second when his tongue met me.

First applied, the young man wasn’t long in settling on the crescendo of my moans to deepen each of his licks, bringing me to the climax when his fingers joined the dance, sinking deep into me. My legs began to shake, forcing me to sink my teeth into the flesh of my arm so as not to wake up the whole HQ. When my jolts finally subsided, the dragon didn't give me a second's respite. Kissing my mouth passionately, he stood up to remove the only clothes he had left. I couldn't help but bite my lip as I admired the beauty of the man standing in front of me.

A slight smile spread across his full lips as he towered over me again, making his way effortlessly between my thighs. He leaned on one arm and grabbed one of my legs with his free hand, pulling it over his hip. I took the opportunity to wrap it around him and at the same time raised my pelvis, so as to make it easier for him.

Sliding my hand on his cheek, I anchored myself in his gaze so intense that I was deeply moved.

Unfortunately, I couldn't keep my fingernails from digging into his flesh when he pushed hard inside me. A single drop of blood immediately escaped the scratch and came to his lips as he began to perform several massive back and forth movements.

He leaned close to my ear.

- My angel, I have just started and you already bleed me, he laughs weakly.

But he didn't give me a chance to answer, at least not as I would have liked. Accentuating his jerks, my cries began to fill the room more and more loudly.

It didn't take long for our mouths to meet again, as if magnetized now that they had finally found each other, in turn making the red pearl flow to the hollow of my lips.

(Chapter 16)

#eldarya #eldarya new era #i am not your enemy #eldarya lance #lance eldarya #lance #eldarya the origins #ashkore #beemoov #eldarya fanfiction #fanfiction #eldarya fanfic

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youngbeezer · 3 years ago

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hi!! can I please request something?

going to a lake house, maybe friends to lovers with bowen byram?

thank you! 💗.

A/N: HI IM SO SORRY THIS LITERALLY TOOK 4 EVER!!! i was having such bad writer's block with also zero motivation, but i eventually put a little something together and i hope whoever requested this first off actually sees this bc seriously its been a good month of this sitting in my inbox but also i hope you like it :)

Word Count: 2940

Warning(s): kinda angsty in beginning, curse words, ends fluffy !!!

masterlist || join my taglist

These next few days is either going to turn out to be the best week of the summer, or the most awkward week of the summer...

I’m currently stuck in a car surrounded by couples on our way to a lake house in Colorado. Somehow I ended up being lumped into this chaotic group of professional hockey players and their drop-dead gorgeous significant others.

About a year ago at my local salon, I just so happened to be seated right next to a woman named Grace, who I immediately hit it off with. We became fast friends and are now basically inseparable at this point. Her boyfriend just so happens to play hockey for the Colorado Avalanche, Cale Makar. Now I have also grown quite close with Cale as well, since I am always at their shared apartment for Grace. At this point Cale is basically third wheeling us, instead of it being the other way around. Therefore I was also always invited to team parties and get-togethers, which prompted more friendships with most of the guys on the team and their respective partners.

Someone I have surprisingly grown super close with is Bowen Byram. As soon as Cale introduced us two, his blue eyes and raspy voice immediately drew me in. Straight away we bonded over common interests and that night we talked for almost three hours. After that, we were thick as thieves. So thick that recently I have come to the realization that I have caught major feelings for him along the way.

It has only been a few weeks since I have come to this realization and it has already started to affect our relationship. I definitely started to ignore Bowen a little bit when I first figured out my feelings because I was scared he would somehow find out or I would just end up blurting it out at some point. And the last thing I want is for my silly feelings to ruin such a great friendship.

Thus why this week can either turn out to be the best or the worst.

I’ve decided that at some point during this trip I need to confess my feelings for Bowen. He’s also seemed to notice the shift in my attitude towards him. I have become more closed off and not as touchy as we used to be. Bowen and I are both very touchy/feely types of people. So what seemed like just some harmless cuddling and play wrestling with each other, to me did very little to quell down my feelings.

For example, this morning when we were packing up the cars for the trip a group of us are taking to Tyson Jost’s lakehouse, Bowen went to wrap his arms around my middle from the back and I subconsciously flinched away at his touch. I know he definitely noticed my mood shift from the defiant pout that was resting on his face. After that I did what I do best, and ran away to the other car that was driving up and basically begged Nate to switch seats with me.

Which now leads to my current thoughts. The entire car ride up I have been contemplating on ways I could tell him, but each scenario just ended up with him telling me that he doesn’t feel the same, and our friendship essentially being over. Obviously I was just overthinking just a little, but I’ve never been stuck in a situation like this before-- and now we are going to be stuck in a lake house together for an entire week, so I am going to be forced to face this situation whether I want to or not.

“Yo. Earth to y/n?” Tyson draws, trying to gain my attention. I snap out of my thoughts as soon as I hear my name, and bring my gaze to the rearview mirror to meet Tyson’s questioning look. “We’re here.” He announces.

Susanna, Mikko’s girlfriend, adds on, “You alright? You seemed kind of out of it the entire car ride.”

I shake my head to try and clear my thoughts and notice that we are indeed here at the lake house we will be staying at for the next week. I clear my dried up throat before croaking out a weak, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just don’t like long car rides.”

Both of them nod, content with my answer and exit the car to join Mikko in unloading all of the luggage from the trunk. I take a few more moments to fully get my head together after dealing with all my jumbled thoughts throughout the entire three hour car ride.

Jumping out of the car, the first thing I see is Bowen letting out a yawn and stretching out. As his arms raise over his head, some of his shirt rises up with it and immediately my eyes are drawn to the small portion of skin and v-line that is in front of me. Bowen then notices my presence and makes eye contact with me, giving me one of his adorable little smiles. I advert my gaze as quickly as I can so my obvious ogling isn’t as obvious and go to finally retrieve my luggage.

Yeah this was gonna be a long week.

…

After everyone got pretty much all settled into their rooms, we all ended up coming back together to sit around the firepit to chat and enjoy some drinks. For this trip that Tyson orchestrated there are in total ten people staying in the house. Me, Tyson, obviously since it’s his house; Bowen, Cale, Grace, Alex Newhook, Mikko and his girlfriend Susanna, and lastly Nate and his supposed new girl who will be joining us later on in the week.

Apparently a group of the guys and their partners have been taking trips together at the end of the hockey season for a while now, and since growing closer with the team this year, I graciously got an invite.

Since it was getting later and a little bit more chilly, I grabbed a random sweatshirt that I saw already laying around in the living room before making my way outside to join everyone by the firepit. Getting closer I noticed that the only seat available just so happened to be next to Bowen.

Cale and Grace give each other a not so inconspicuous knowing look when they see me approaching. As soon as I sit down, a question is being thrown at me.

“Whose sweatshirt is that y/n?” Cale brings everyone's attention to me with a growing smirk on his face.

“I don’t know, I just found it in the living room.” I give Cale a questioning glare, trying to figure what his endgame is right now.

“It’s mine.” I hear that same raspy voice that I love and know so well. I feel my face start heating up at the idea of wearing Bowen’s sweatshirt. Am I wearing his name on my back right now, and I just didn’t even think to check earlier?

“Oh, uh. Sorry, I can give it back to you, if you want it.” I stumble out, now feeling awkward and a little embarrassed about how flustered I am getting over a simple sweatshirt.

Bowen gives me a little smile before replying back, “Nah, it’s fine. It looks better on you anyway.”

I clear my throat and stumble out an awkward ‘thanks’ at Bowen and then turn my attention to Grace right next to me so I don’t embarrass myself even more. What I don’t see though is the way Bowen's face immediately falls when I turn my back on him.

…

Around midnight is when everyone started to make their way back inside the house to start getting ready for bed. I was mindlessly scrolling through my social media, so I didn’t notice that mostly everyone had already gone inside.

“Y/n.” I look up at the mention of my name to notice that Bowen and I are the only ones left outside.

Also noticing the intense gaze I am receiving from Bowen, I quickly gather my things and stumble out, “Oh my gosh I didn’t notice everyone left already. I should head inside as well.”

Bowen is quicker though because he grabs ahold of my wrist, halting me in place before I make my very obvious escape.

“Hold on, please. Can you please talk to me?” Bowen pleads out.

“What do you mean? We’ve been talking all night.” I countered, trying one last time to get out of this conversation.

“We’ve been talking as a group all night yeah, but you couldn’t even make eye contact with me. You know what I mean. What’s been going on? Did I do something?” Bowen frowned.

At that moment I felt so guilty. I’ve been so focused on trying to ignore my feelings that I have developed that I ended up pushing my best friend away and hurting him in the process. I close my eyes and let out a deep breath. I knew I would eventually have to have this talk with Bowen during this week, but I just didn’t expect it to be on the very first night.

“Okay. Yeah, let’s talk.”

I lead the way down to the dock overlooking the lake and sit down to dangle my feet into the water. I know for a fact that Grace and Cale realized that we both haven’t come in behind them, so they are most likely snooping by the backdoor wondering what we are doing.

Bowen joins me, after slipping his shoes off and dangling his feet in as well.

“What’s been going on y/n?” Bowen asks again.

“I-I think I’m in love with you.” I blurt out. I can feel my heartbeat pounding in my ears as I await any type of response from Bowen. Taking a peek over at him, I see the pure shock on his face. Probably wasn’t the best idea to start off the conversation with that.

Taking his silence as a bad sign, I start spewing out whatever I can to try and calm the anxiety coursing through my veins. “I-I think I have known for a while and I just tried to ignore it, I guess. But then I realized that I was just pushing you away, an-and I never wanted to do that. Our friendship means that absolute world to me, and I would hate myself if anything I did, or-or my stupid feelings jeaporized that.” At some point during my little rant, a few tears escaped. I turn my head away as I try to hold back on a full on sob breaking loose.

“You think?” He eventually breaks the silence.

Confusedly, I turned my head back around and let out a strangled, “Huh?” I see the corners of Bowen’s mouth start curving up into a tiny smile, confusing me even more.

“You said, you think you’re in love with me.” He pointed out.

My eyebrows raise in question and I give him a little shrug, prompting him to elaborate more.

“Well… I’m pretty damn sure I’m in love with you.” Bowen softly declared.

My breath catches in my throat and my mouth turns as dry as the Sahara Desert. Those were definitely not the words I was expecting to come out of his mouth. He chuckles at my surprised face and scooches a little closer to my body to wipe a stray tear on my cheek.

“Are you serious?” I whisper out.

“Of course.” He whispered just as softly back to me as his head inched closer to mine.

My heart pounds in my chest as Bowen’s hand comes up to cradle my cheek. All of our pent up feelings and emotions that we both have been too afraid to admit all come crashing together as our lips finally meet. He kissed me gently, almost carefully, but after all this time gentleness was not what I wanted right now. Bowen let out a low groan as I pulled him flush against my body, my fists bunching up the collar of his shirt.

Before this could go any further, we both pull away breathlessly, basking in what truly just happened-- just now realizing how much our relationship is about to change.

“Fuck.” Bowen breathed out, running his hands over his face. “If I knew that was what it was like to kiss you I would’ve blurted out my feelings the day I met you.”

My ears perk up at his last few words and it seems like he also realizes what he just admitted, as his cheeks immediately turn a rosy color.

“You’ve liked me for that long?” I bashfully question.

Bowen runs his fingers through his hair and blows out a breath of air before answering, “Yeah, I-I mean… yeah I have.” He stumbles out, awkwardly letting out a laugh.

I lean my head on his shoulder and connect our hands, feeling super content and never wanting this moment to end. We take a moment to just sit on the dock-- with our feet hanging in the water, hands intertwined; and bask in the feeling of finally letting our feelings out into the open.

“You know everyone in that house is going to have a field day when they find out.” Bowen mumbles against my shoulder, before leaving a lingering kiss on the exposed skin.

“Oh I wouldn’t be surprised if they all had a bet going or something.” I chimed. I raise my head that had previously been resting on Bowen’s shoulder back up to look at him, and see that he is already smiling at me. “What?” I drawled, feeling my cheeks heating up under his gaze.

“You wanna sleep in my bed tonight?” He asked hesitantly.

My cheeks now feel on fire as I ponder on how I want to go about this. I raise my eyebrows up at him in question as I ponder out, “Do you want me in your bed tonight?”

Bowen gives me an almost incredulous look as he voiced, “Of course I want you in my bed.”

I just give him a simple nod and push my body up in a standing position, reaching out my hand to prompt Bowen to join me. “Okay, let’s go.”

Bowen immediately shoots up from his sitting position, clinging onto my hand as we make our way back up the yard to the sliding glass doors of the lake house. Just as I predicted earlier, Cale and Grace were totally snooping. Actually, the entire house was snooping. Everyone was gathered in the kitchen trying to act casual as we walked in, but as soon as they noticed our conjoined hands, all hell broke loose.

“I fucking knew it!”

“Aw you guys look so cute.”

“Bout time.”

“Ha! Nate, you owe me fifty bucks.”

I looked over at Bowen with an unimpressed look, “Told you they probably had a bet going on.” Meanwhile Bowen has an incredulous look coating his face watching his friends freak out over his newfound relationship. Instead of questioning our oddball friends, Bowen just simply shakes his head, letting out a little chuckle.

“Alright I’m heading up, I can’t deal with these idiots right now.” Bowen gives me a quick peck on the lips before announcing his departure for the night. Most of the others also start making their way up to their respective rooms for bed, the guys putting on a show of making kissy noises and making a few chirps as they follow Bowen up the stairs.

Grace joins me by the counter, making a show of wiggling her eyebrows at me. I’m smiling like an idiot as Cale also joins us, chuckling at my lovesick expression.

“You’re welcome.” Cale smirked.

I scrunch my face up in confusion as I question him back, “For what?”

“For introducing you two, duh.” Cale teased. Grace smacks him on the arm with a tut, making a show of rolling her eyes at her boyfriend. “Alright, seriously I am happy for you guys though.” He eventually relents.

My cheeks heat up from the attention but also from the thought of Bowen and I’s new relationship. Grace grabs me by the shoulders and starts pushing me in the direction of the staircase.

“Obviously I’m happy for you too. All I’ve wanted is the best for you and I think Bowen is just that. And with that being said, go get your mans!” She sends me off with a quick smack on my ass. I giggle the whole way up the stairs on the way into Bowen’s [now our] room feeling extremely giddy and content.

When I enter the room, all the lights except for the bathroom are already off, and it looks like Bowen is already settled into bed. So, I quickly do my night time routine and change into my pajamas before making my way over to the bed I will now be sharing for the week.

Bowen is awaiting me with his arms wide open, which I happily cuddle into the second I am under the covers. He buries his head into my neck, leaving featherlight kisses here and there.

“I love you.” Bowen mumbles into my neck. I card my fingers through his hair and kiss the top of his head as I mumble back those same words, in complete awe over how fast my life has changed in one night. We both knew that we would eventually be together, it just took a little time and a trip to Tyson Jost’s lakehouse for us to figure it out. This week will definitely be one for the books.

Taglist: @barzysandmarnersbitch @handwrittenheroes @hockeyplayerstories @barzy-xoxo @gnemgn @joelsfarabees

Tagging some mutuals as well so this doesnt flop,,,

@2manytabsopen @bb-nhlqueen7 @frederikanderson @simon-edvinsson @coltonndach @carepriceisgoodathockey @lovereadinghockeyy @pettypeteys @kentjohnsons @joekellys @mattybenierss

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sky-scribbles · 3 years ago

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Fanfic ask game for procrastinating on writing (very accurate, since I should really be working on either the Aeor Fic or my dissertation right now). Tagged by @essektheylyss and @saturdaysky - tysm, this is very fun! <3

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

28! I only really started posting regularly on AO3 after I got into writing for CR, so there’s a modest amount there right now.

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

~126000; probably going to be a lot more by the time the Aeor Fic is finished!.

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Only three on AO3 - Critrole, obviously, plus some from my Star Wars: The Old Republic days and a single lonely Dragon Age fic. I’ve written for some other fandoms in the past (Elder Scrolls, mainly).

4) What are your top five fics by kudos?

Show me where my skin begins: Shadowgast; a study of Essek’s touch starvation and the important of touch between him and Caleb as their relationship develops.

My reasons for defying reason: Oneshot looking at Essek’s friendships with each of the Nein in turn, and the Nein’s different love languages.

I shine only with the light you gave me: The wizards slow dance at a fancy Dynasty ball, and Essek negotiates Den dynamics.

I’ll use you as a focal point: Essek summons a familiar, and as he adjusts to life with her, she helps him speedrun his character arc.

How to struggle gracefully: The Mighty Nein and Essek have dinner with Deirta Thelyss, as told through Veth’s perspective. Feat. Veth unpacking some of her own issues and her relationship with Essek

5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Not as much as I’d like to anymore; my current health issues mean I have trouble writing at all, let alone replying to comments... but when I’m functioning better, I do try to reply to as many as I can! I absolutely love seeing people’s insights and hearing their thoughts; you guys make every second of writer’s block worth it! <3

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hmm, I really don’t know! I’m generally an angst with a happy ending person, so I tend to round things off hopefully. I’d say that The scars that silence carved on me maybe qualifies, because from Essek’s perspective, it ends somewhat ambiguously - but the reader obviously knows that he’s about to get tackle-hugged by a little blue tiefling the moment after the fic ends.

7) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

Not really. My Inquisitor!Essek AU is about the closest I’ve got, but I’m not sure I’d ever write anything or it.

8) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not since I was about fourteen, thankfully! I’ve had the odd ‘I hate [x character/fandom] but I love this story’ comment here and there.

9) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Not really. I’ve occasionally strayed into very vaguely nsfw stuff, but I don’t think I’d enjoy writing real smut, nor do I have any confidence that I’d do so halfway decently!

10) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

11) Have you ever had a fic translated?

I did once, many years ago back when I was writing Elder Scrolls stuff.

12) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but I’m definitely not opposed to the idea!

13) What’s your all time favourite ship?

My fic history says Shadowgast, for sure, and I can see them being a love of mine for a very long time.

14) What’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Nothing that’s posted, thankfully, but I’d truly love to finish the one that currently sits under the working title of ‘the Essek and soup fic’. I’m very fond of it, but just don’t seem to be able to make work beyond its first scene. (Maybe I’ll post that as a standalone someday.)

15) What are your writing strengths?

I like to think I’ve got a good sense for prose rhythm? When I’m proofreading, I can generally count on a voice in my head to be saying ‘this sentence needs to be x length’, or ‘this sentence needs another adjective in it to carry the right emotional weight’, and to tell me when something just feels right and flows nicely.

16) What are your writing weaknesses?

I think I have a bit of a tendency to want to include everything - every interesting thought and bit of character exploration that I come up with in the planning process. Also, plotting! The reason I’ve generally stuck to oneshots is because I find writing lengthier plots really, really hard; sooner or later I just get stumped, thinking ‘ok, but what happens now?’ There’s a reason planning the Aeor fic has taken several months!

17) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

It’s not something I’d do myself, mostly because I really wouldn’t want to mess up another language in a fic - but I’ve seen it really suit certain stories before.

18) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

It is... really hard to remember that far back, but probably either Skyrim or Torchwood. I did not do so well, but I did it :’D

19) What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

Show me where my skin begins has a special place in my heart for being such huge fun to write and for being a truly feelgood fic. Familiar (like my mirror years ago) will always be important to me just for being my first CR fic and my entry point, as it were, to the CR fandom.

... but I really do hve a soft spot for The scars that silence carved on me, a study of Essek’s growth between 99 and 124. It’ll never be one of my most popular fics - the Nein don’t even appear in it - but I just loved taking Essek through all of these little changes, bridging the gap between the negotations and his reunion with his friends. And there are some scenes and lines in here I’m really proud of.

I think just about everyone I’d love to tag for this has already been tagged, so consider this an open tag for anyone who’d like to do this!

#this was a lot of fun! ty again #... and I should really get back to work on the aeor fic now #tag meme #writing meme #critical role

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mysingularitybts · 4 years ago

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Will You Marry Me? || M. YG

Pairing: Min Yoongi x OC

Genre: Idol!au, romance

Warnings: none

Word Count: ~2.5k

The sun was barely peeking out from the horizon, it was too early and yet here I was waking up. It was automatic no matter how many hours I slept I was bound to rise with the sun. I laid on the bed, stretching my tense muscles, waiting for my brain to turn on. Relaxing and sinking on the bed again, I carefully peeled the bed sheets beside me to reveal my boyfriend's face. He had the bed sheet's imprinted all over his puffy face. It all made him look even cuter than he usually is.

I debated if I should wake him or not, but knowing he was going to wake up soon I got closer to him brushing his hair away from his face and proceeding to kiss all over his face. Feeling the soft pecks his eyes slowly blinked in an attempt to get rid of the sleepiness.

"Merry Christmas Yoongi," I whispered halting my attack.

Yoongi took his time stretching, yawning, and scrunching his face before responding a soft, "Merry Christmas, Yun."

Laying on his back, he opened his arms, knowing I'd want to cuddle him before we had to get up. It was a habit we had to talk about how we were feeling that day and about our plans for the day. There wasn't much to do today it was Christmas after all, the only things allowed to do was be lazy and open presents.

Alluring me to stay in bed for longer Yoongi kissed my lips very well knowing he was my weakness. It felt like we spent hours whispering sweet nothings as if scared someone would hear when in reality, we were the only ones in the whole apartment. Yoongi's hands almost lulled me to sleep again as he caressed my hair.

"Remember, we're going over to Hobi's for the Christmas party," Yoongi told me in between kisses.

"Stop thinking about Hobi while I kiss you," I laughed, pulling away, "He's not the one marrying you."

"From what I recall, I'm not marrying you either," he quickly responded, eyes narrowing in question and lips forming its natural pout.

He had a point, but it's only because he hasn't asked! We've talked about marriage before and it's something we both want to do we just don't know when. I know I'm ready to take the next step we've been in this relationship for about five years, we live together, we're basically a married couple already and that's fine I'm happy with what we have. But I would love to marry him officially, have a ceremony, say our vows to each other, and most importantly, call him my husband, the love of my life.

Sitting up on the bed, I straddled him, holding his shoulders and getting close to his face and asked, "Min Yoongi, will you marry me?"

Yoongi's eyes widened for a second before going back to their natural shape, "No."

"Why do you keep saying no?" I whined, slumping down in his chest.

Yup, it wasn't the first time I had asked. In fact, it's been a month since I first asked, and he keeps saying no. Every time he'd say dumb excuses as to why he wouldn't marry me by now it was more like a joke to see what silly thing he'd come up with.

"I'm too young to get married," he explained with a whine while grabbing hold of my thighs and flipping us over.

"Yoongs you're 29," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Exactly, I'm a baby!" he exclaimed, burying his head on my neck.

"At what age will you consider saying yes?" I sighed, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"35," he said, the sound coming out muffled.

"That's a long time by then we would have been dating for ten years," I grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back to look at his face.

"So?" Yoongi shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm gonna keep asking in between in case you change your mind."

After an hour of waking up I finally stood from the bed and went into the kitchen to get breakfast started. I turned on the coffee maker first and prepared our preferred cups to pour it in. Just as I placed Yoongi's cup on the counter, he emerged from the room with a new set of pajamas and damp hair.

"You should dry your hair don't want you getting sick," I mentioned over my shoulder while whisking together the ingredients to make pancake batter.

Cold hands landing on my hips made me jump, "Yoongs your hands are freezing."

"Sorry," he lightly chuckled behind me, "In that case you should put on a pair of pants too."

"You should know by now I'm a rebel I do what I want," I sassily said, turning to look at him.

Yoongi was looking at me with a blank face, "You forgot to do laundry, didn't you?"

"Yes," I admitted with a sheepish smile.

"Alright, let me get my coffee and I'll dry it," he sighed letting go of me.

I thought I was alone when I felt a harsh sting to my backside, "Ow Yoongi that hurt!"

"That's not what you said the other day," he yelled from the hallway.

"Yoongi!" I swear this man is so inappropriate sometimes.

After breakfast we stayed in the living room and exchanged our Christmas gifts. It was honestly a very relaxing morning between the two of us and I couldn't be happier. We watched old Christmas movies and drank hot chocolate to get even more into the Christmas spirit. Somewhere in the early afternoon we crashed and napped on the sofa while 'Home Alone' played in the background.

"Yun...Yun...Yun," I heard Yoongi's soothing voice calling me and shaking my arm.

"Five more minutes," I mumbled, hiding my face in one of the cushions.

"Come on, wake up we have to get ready for Hobi's party," he said, rubbing my arm soothingly.

"On one condition," I pouted, lifting my head.

"What's that?"

"Marry me?" I asked, a smile sneaking past my lips.

"Ugh, I can't, I already promised this girl in a fan meet," he groaned, pulling me by my arms so I'd sit up.

A girl can only try. I don't want to be that girl who keeps insisting her boyfriend to marry her, but like I love this man so much I want to make it official! If he would've told me in the beginning, he didn't believe in marriage, I would've prepared myself and accepted it. Sometimes it makes me question if he isn't sure about us, luckily, I know him well enough to know he loves me just as much as I love him. I mean marriage is a huge step, and between my job and his career as an idol it can get tough. I understand he wants to have a more stable life before taking this step and possibly starting a family.

Feeling well rested, I got ready for tonight's party. Yoongi has been telling me about this party for the past month apparently Hoseok wanted everyone there because he has a surprise for everyone, I think he's finally going to introduce us to his girlfriend.

With my make up done and my hair curled I put on my red dress I bought it solely for this occasion. Yoongi helped me pick it out in the store there were so many good choices and at the end, I was in between two dresses. I had no choice but to ask for his help. With one long glance at each he ended up picking with the red one, he made a good decision because I looked stunning in this color.

"Yoongi are you ready?" I yelled while slipping into my heels.

He was in the other room because he insists I kicked him out of ours and that is a lie. I simply told him to get out of the way because he was hogging the mirror and I needed to do my makeup. The mirror he was using has the best lighting.

"Yes," he muttered, stepping into the room. He stopped in his tracks taking in how I looked, "You look beautiful."

"Beautiful enough to marry me?" I jested, shooting him a flirty smile.

"More like too beautiful for me to marry you," he grinned, walking over and pecking my lips.

"Don't be acting cute," I pouted, melting at his words, "I love you."

"I love you too Yun," he murmured, kissing me again.

When he pulled away, he had red all over his lips. Giggling, I grabbed a makeup wipe from my makeup bag and brought it up to his lips to wipe off any lipstick.

"There we go perfect once again."

Thanking me he grabbed my hand and off we went to Hobi's house. He didn't even let go of it on the drive. I'd spontaneously squeeze his hand tightly to see if it bothered him, but due to my lack of strength, he barely felt it, in turn he squeezed mine making me wince.

"Ow, stop hurting me," I whined, tapping on his hand so he'd let go.

"I barely did anything besides you wanted to hurt me first," he argued yet his hand was still on mine and I didn't dare let go.

"No, I wasn't," I defended myself, "It was an experiment to test my strength."

"In that case you have the strength of a toddler," Yoongi deadpanned.

"I know," I huffed, there was no denying that fact.

Once parked in front of Hoseok's house Yoongi opened the door for me and together we went to the front door. Hoseok opened the door with a huge smile and ushered us in.

"Sooyun, it's been so long I missed you!" he cheerfully said, pulling me into a hug.

"Yesterday was so long ago, my sunshine, the sky was so glum without you," I laughed as he rocked us side to side.

"I'm so glad you're here I want to introduce you to someone," Hobi excitedly said, dragging me with me. Before he pulled me away, I grabbed Yoongi's hand, so he'd follow us.

I was right Hobi wanted us to meet his girlfriend, Soojin. She was really sweet and nice I could totally see why Hobi likes her. We talked for a long while getting to know each other from my peripheral I saw Hobi constantly looking over in our direction and smiling happily that we got along. It was cute how he wanted us all to get along.

The night was filled with drinks, food, and lively chatter. Not soon after Yoongi and I got there the rest of the boys started filing in with their significant others. Something I didn't know was that the boys did a secret Santa amongst themselves, so it was a real treat seeing them exchange gifts and sweet words.

It was 2 am when we left the party. Hoseok and Taehyung were still hyped up, I just know they were going to collapse soon.

"Did you have fun?" Yoongi asked, briefly looking in my direction. We were in the car on our way home, music playing on the speakers at a low volume.

"I did, I'm exhausted though. I can't keep up with Hobi," I chuckled lightly, shaking my head.

"Tell me about it," he agreed.

"I can't wait to get to bed," I told him, kissing the back of his hand.

"We're almost there," he gently squeezed my hand, "Can you get my phone from my jacket pocket?"

"Sure," I nodded, turning in my seat to get the jacket he threw to the back seat.

After grabbing it from the back, I straightened in the seat and searched through the many pockets of the jacket. In the last pocket where the phone was supposed to be I found a small black velvet box. Opening it there was a beautiful diamond ring staring back at me. It had everything I've ever wanted on a ring it was much like the ones I had saved on my Pinterest page.

"Yoongi..." I barely spoke above a whisper.

Why was this in his pocket? Did it mean what I thought it meant? Did I ruin a surprise?

"What?" He asked with a side smile.

"What is this?"

"A ring for you," he answered nonchalantly.

"For what?" I insisted, determined to find the answer I wanted.

"To marry me," Yoongi lovingly added.

"Don't joke with me Yoongi," I pleaded, hoping this wasn't some sick joke.

"I'm not, I'm serious," he insisted.

"Wh-what? Pull the car over," I ordered him, I needed for him to tell me this was real, eye to eye.

"Okay," Nodding, he pulled into a fast-food parking lot.

"This is serious? This isn't because I keep asking, right? If you don't want to marry me, that's fine and I'll understand. You don't have to feel forced to do this," I felt guilty a part of me couldn't help but think this was because I kept asking him. It started with me being serious, but it's more of a joke now. Of course, I want to marry him that much remains true, but not if he doesn't want to.

"Yun, I'm as serious as can be. I've been thinking about it for a while now," he admitted, taking his seatbelt off and turning in his seat, "I wanted to surprise you and I know that if I did anything overly romantic besides our dates, you'd be on to me," he finished explaining.

"Oh." My mind was processing everything that happened in the last 5 minutes. The thing that I wanted most was happening and I couldn't believe it. The love of my life asked me (kind of) to marry him and I said 'Oh.' Way to go Sooyun.

"So, what do you say? Will you marry me? Spend the rest of our lives together until we're old and gray?" he asked, a nervous look in his handsome face.

Tears streamed down my face and with a vigorous nod I accepted his proposal, "I will."

"Don't cry or I'll take it back," he jokingly threatened, taking the ring out of the box and slipping it on my ring finger.

"I love you," I sobbed despite his words.

"I love you too," he warmly replied, cupping my cheeks and kissing my waiting lips.

"Let's get home so I can kiss you and hug you properly," I told him after our kiss.

"Your wish is my command," he chuckled, pulling out of the parking lot.

And that is how my wonderful boyfriend now fiancé proposed in front of a McDonald's, not very romantic yet surprising and I wouldn't have it any other way. I loved this man, and it didn't matter if he proposed with a ring pop because I would've agreed in a heartbeat. I'm sure there was a long time to go until we had the ceremony but this was enough for me.

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ollie-ollie-oxenfreee · 3 years ago

Text

then came the morning (aka: the post - canon cuddle fic)

The work in progress is finally done! I’ve been chipping away at it for the past couple weeks now, and it’s gone through many drafts / iterations, but I think I’m finally happy with it. :)

Title from an album by the Lone Bellow.

The first time the two of them “shared a bed” was about as awkward as one might imagine. The initiating circumstances were hardly any better.

The heating apparatus in their quarters had given out a week or so back in a spectacular fit of dust - laden wheezing. The engineering crew called in to inspect it informed them that it couldn’t be fixed until they could pick up the right parts at the nearest trading post (which was naturally thousands of klicks away on the ragged edge of nowhere). With the ambient heat from the nearby engine room seeping through the wall, the conditions were deemed “unpleasant but survivable.” They were issued two extra threadbare blankets and told in tersely formal military - speak to deal with it.

And they’d dealt with it really well for a while! They grit their teeth and carried on like a couple of champs: Harrow, having been thoroughly warned against using her magic too frequently, layering on spare cloaks and sweaters until she almost disappeared under a mountain of black fabric; Gideon curling up close to the engine room wall and wincing when the cold sent spiteful twinges shooting through her still-very-busted knee.

But then one night their grand flagship of the revolution chugged through a particularly empty sprawl of space and began to slow down. The heat from the engine room guttered like a candle flame. Frost spiderwebbed across the thin plex of their window. Harrow’s breath showed in thin wisps of vapor as she huffed, glaring down at the pages of her book like she wanted to reprimand the cold for daring to interrupt her studies.

Gideon had half a mind to encourage her to try (that glare could stop a full - fledged Lyctor in their tracks, who knew what other horrifying powers it possessed?), but thought better of it when she saw the genuine exhaustion in the other girl’s eyes.

“You doing alright over there, my vulturine vicar?” she asked. “I know it takes some time to absorb all that good bone knowledge, but you haven’t turned a page in like half an hour.”

The thunderous look on Harrow’s face darkened further as she set her book aside with an exasperated thump. “This is ridiculous. I studied in the depths of Drearburh for years without any issue, and yet here I am struggling to focus like a novice. It isn’t even that cold.” She bit her lip as a shiver ran through her at the words.

“Evidence seems to suggest otherwise, o mistress of melancholy. Do you want me to go ask that guy in the supply room for another blanket? He still owes me for his son’s fencing lesson.”

Supply room guy didn’t really owe her anything, but she knew that mentioning it would make Harrow feel better. If she could believe that the nice things Gideon did for her were actually for Totally Self - Serving, Debt - Settling reasons, she could accept them without feeling guilty.

(Guilt had haunted Harrow more than ever upon returning to her own body, making it hard to breathe on good days and leaving her shaking with sobs on bad ones.

It was one of those fun little things they had in common.)

From the way Harrow’s shoulders stiffened, though, it seemed that Gideon Nav’s patented Guilt Workaround wasn’t going to be as effective as usual. She shook her head - a stiff little gesture that made her earrings rattle - then sighed.

“No. Thank you, though, it’s kind of you to offer.”

The thank you was sincere, and that was admittedly pretty nice, but all the sincerity in the world wouldn’t change the fact that Harrow was still very obviously shivering. She looked miserable beneath her usual mask of face paint and stoicism. The dark red bead of blood-sweat trailing down her temple indicated that she'd probably tried using some kind of homeostasis theorem, but it wasn't working well enough.

There had to be a solution to this problem somewhere. Harrow's stubborn pride meant that she wouldn't accept help outright - she would sooner set her books on fire than admit what she thought of as a weakness - but if Gideon could play it just right, maybe she wouldn't have to. It would need to be done carefully - too sappy and she'd be uncomfortable, too straightforward and she'd balk. Casual, Gideon decided. Nice and casual was the way to go. It would just be a matter of execution.

"Soooo," she said at length, leaning back against the wall all cool and easy. (She folded her arms up behind her head as an afterthought, appreciating the way it made her still-atrophied-but-getting-there muscles stand out through the thin fabric of her shirt. Confidence boosts were going to be scarce and sorely needed in the conversation to come - she’d take them where she could get them.)

Naturally, Harrow did not appreciate the change in tack or the cool-and-easy-ness. She did, however, manage to muster up a look so steeped in wary disapproval that it cut through her earlier frustration like a hot knife through bone marrow. “So.”

“You sure about that blanket? Because really, it would only take me a second -”

“I’m sure. Thank you.”

“Then, um, did you want to borrow mine?”

Harrow blinked. “You need yours.”

“Yeah, I know! I meant that we could maybe - share. Pool our resources.” She patted the edge of her bunk gamely, then instantly regretted it when Harrow’s eyes narrowed even further.

“You want us to sleep together?”

"No? I mean, technically, but no. In the literal way. Not the other way.” Well maybe the other way sometime if you wanted to but that’s a whole other weird conversation that we probably shouldn't touch with a ten foot pole or we might explode.

"How exactly would that work?" The caution was still heavy in Harrow's voice, but some of the disapproval had ebbed away.

"I mean. We'd probably need to use my bed, since my sheets aren't covered in gross bone gobbets, but you could bring your blankets over and layer 'em over mine and then we'd have twice the blankets! And, you know, body heat. Which has its perks." Even Gideon's cool-and- easy-ness faltered at that, but she bravely soldiered on. "The point is, we'd both be warm."

"And it won't - make things weird?"

"Nope! Not weird. All perfectly chill, my shivering scion."

Harrow paused for a moment, worrying her lip between her teeth. "I'll get ready for bed," she said at last, clipped and decisive. "And I'll think about it."

"Take your time. I'll be here."

Moments later, after the shivering scion had swept grandly out of the room, Gideon's Thinking Brain crashed unceremoniously into her Talking Brain. Things were not, in fact, going to be perfectly chill. There were going to be some logistical problems with this arrangement. Big logistical problems.

Big logistical problems namely revolving around the mutually exclusive facts that the midnight monarch was not especially comfortable with touch, and Gideon Nav, space - bee slayer and resurrected badass, was a sleep cuddler.

Or, well, she was in theory. She didn’t have much (any) “real world” experience to go on, but she’d woken up many, many times back on the Ninth with a bundle of blankets wrapped up in her arms or nestled close to her chest. The habit had never really embarrassed her back then - she actually kind of liked it. She felt warmer and less lonely when she had something to hold, even in the frigid emptiness of her cell.

But that was back then. Things were different in the here - and - now. Harrow was in the here - and - now, and Gideon would never forgive herself if she ruined things with Harrow right when their relationship was on the upswing. They were actually talking, slowly figuring out how to work together again. The furious, tearful intensity between them in the wake of their reunion had calmed and warmed into something almost like real friendship.

After all that had happened - everything that had gone wrong over the past year and a half - they’d found a fragile sort of peace. There was no way in Hell she was going to ruin that peace now.

So while Harrow swished about getting ready for bed, Gideon leveled with herself and laid down some ground rules. Don’t make this weird, Nav. Make sure she’s comfortable, give her her space, and don’t think about cuddling with her.

...even though it would probably be warmer, and she has shitty necro circulation and essentially no body mass so she needs all the warmth she can get, and she gets that kinda soft peaceful look on her face when - no, fuck, see? You’re doing it already. Even if she did like you like that, which she absolutely doesn’t because she’s got a good old-fashioned frostbite girl back home, that’s not what you’re here for. You’re her cav. Her sworn sword. You’re here to do your job and make sure she doesn’t get her thumbs bitten off again. That’s it.

“You’re staring.”

Harrow’s voice cut sharp as a bone shard through Gideon’s nervous thought - spiral. Having apparently completed her grim evening rituals, she’d settled lightly on the far edge of the to - be - shared bed, countless dark layers poofing out around her like the feathers of a posturing crow. Her face was flecked with dots of gray from scrubbing off her paint, and her short hair stuck up in messy licks of black fluff despite her increasingly irritated attempts to smooth it flat.

It shouldn’t have been endearing. It really, really shouldn’t have.

It was.

Gideon was so screwed.

“Shit,” she muttered, scrubbing a hand over her face to ground herself. She glanced over to meet Harrow’s eyes (and wow, was that a mistake, they were as mesmerizing a swirl of black and gold as ever), then forced a smile like she wasn’t screaming internally. “Sorry. Zoned out a little. You good to go?”

The wryly exasperated glint in Harrow’s eyes made them glow even brighter in the dim light. “Yes, I’m ‘good to go,’ thank you. Are you, though? You look … troubled.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. Think nice, normal thoughts. Don’t let her know. She cannot know.

“I’m always good, my chthonic countess,” she lied, smooth as could be, throwing in a roguish wink for good measure. That was distractingly stupid enough, it was bound to work.

Harrow frowned. “Why are you blinking like that?”

The roguish wink apparently had not worked.

“No reason! Just dust. In my eye. Lots of very rude dust landing right in my eye. Anyway. How are we doing this?”

A flicker of genuine, anxious concern ghosted over Harrow’s face as her frown deepened.

“Gideon,” she began, in that slow, reluctant way of hers that heralded Incoming Indignity. “I know that you were the one to suggest this, but I want to impress upon you that if you aren’t - certain about it, there is another possible solution.”

She cast around the room for a moment and reached for a massive, dusty tome at the top of a nearby stack, flipping determinedly through the pages. “I've had the idea for some time, but I only just managed to convince our commanding officer that I could use theorems 'responsibly' without their constant supervision, so I haven't been able to test it until now. Small - scale thanergetic fission reactions produce sparks of flame that, if handled extremely carefully, could give off enough heat - "

“Wait.” Gideon held up a hand, her own anxious brain jolting back online at the word flame. “Wait, wait, wait. Harrow. Seriously? The concern is sweet, don’t get me wrong, but your other solution is death - fire?”

“I said that it was a possibility,” she snapped back, that old brittle defensiveness calcifying over the vulnerability in her voice. Her posture straightened with a great rustling of robes: shoulders back, chin high, eyes gleaming with disdainful pride as the bones scattered about their room twitched to life. Looking for all the world like she had when they were ten - twelve - fourteen - sixteen, bitter and vicious and spoiling for a fight.

She seemed to realize it right when Gideon did. Her eyes widened, then closed. The bowstring tension in her shoulders slowly ebbed away as her half - formed constructs clattered to the floor. “Sorry,” she said at last, her voice a threadbare murmur. “I’m sorry. That was - uncalled for.”

“It’s a reflex. I get it.” And she did - she’d done the same thing countless times, had a hand on her sword and a barbed insult on her tongue without even thinking about it.

Another one of those fucked up things they had in common.

An uneasy silence settled between them, broken only by the rumbling hum of the engines, the thud of footsteps in the hall.

“I meant it, you know,” Harrow said, after a long moment. “About other options. It was a half - baked and immature attempt, but I wanted to give you an out if you were uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, I know, my sepulchral sage. I appreciate it. Half - baked immaturity and all.” She bumped her shoulder gently against Harrow’s, then flopped back on the bunk to stare up at the low ceiling. “Are we, like, committing to honesty hour tonight? How deep into feelings do you want to get?”

“As deep as is comfortable.”

“That’s what she said.”

“It’s a reasonable thing for her to say.”

Another hush fell over them, marginally more comfortable than the last, as Gideon worried her lip between her teeth and counted the cracks in the ceiling above her. There were nine of them in total. Go fucking figure.

A bony finger poked her in the side after a few cycles of counting. “Were you going to elaborate, or was that all just a set - up for one of your charming jokes?”

“I can’t believe it took you eighteen years to finally admit that they’re charming, but no, that’s not why I said it. I’ll lay bare my tender squishy heart for you, penumbral lady. Because you asked so nicely.”

Because I think you might already have it.

No avoiding it now. Might as well bite the bullet and dive in.

“I was on board with the cuddle thing from the beginning, but I felt like you wouldn’t be, and I panicked. You probably already knew that because you’re way more creepily observant than you have any right to be, but there it is. Out in the open.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could just run away and hide from the other girl’s piercing gaze. “I just don’t want to fuck things up with you, Harrow. I feel like we’ve got a kind of good thing going now. You haven’t called me a useless halfwit in forever, and I haven’t called you a heinous bitch in forever, and I haven’t wanted to. That’s unheard of for us. I don’t want it to go away.”

Her voice cracked, and the most damning words burst forth like flowers through concrete: “I don’t want to give you a reason to shut me out again.”

The memories of those nine months flashed in fragmented mosaic through her mind - the slick stone walls of the well, the freezing churn of the water, the burn in her muscles as she desperately thrashed up toward the surface and reached for someone who didn’t even know she was there. The gut - wrenching loneliness that defined her entire fucking life coalescing in that pit of brackish darkness. The chant rattling on loop in her mind as the water pulled her under: Harrow, what happened, what did you do, why the fuck did you leave me here, I had a purpose, I threw myself on that goddamned rail for a reason, was that not enough for you?

Was I not enough for you?

A cool, fine - boned hand laced with hers and squeezed, just once. The memories blurred.

“Gideon,” the voice that had haunted her all that time said. “You know - you have to know that isn’t why I did it.”

“Why did you, then?”

A tiny hitch of breath. A soft, almost incredulous laugh. Then:

“Because I loved you.”

The words hung heavy in the frozen air.

“You - what?”

“I loved you.” She said it so simply. Like it was something she’d come to terms with long ago. “I loved you beyond reason, and for once in my life I wanted to do right by you and keep you safe as you did me. The motivation doesn’t justify a moment of it, I won’t pretend it does, and I can’t even begin to erase the hurt it caused you. But I need you to understand that it was never because of something you did wrong. You are good, darling. Good to the core. You always have been.”

Bright spots bloomed before Gideon’s eyes as her reeling mind fought to catch up. Three thoughts sprang unbidden to the forefront:

Mmf.

And: Darling?

And:

“Loved. You said ‘loved.’ Why the past tense?”

She sat there, staring blankly up at the ceiling, half - expecting a don’t be presumptuous, Griddle or something even remotely normal, at least. What she got instead was another laugh, halting and shaky and suddenly deeply bitter. The hand in hers went rigid and drew away.

“I came to my senses. I remembered the countless awful things I’ve done. Saw myself for the leech that I am. I’ve taken and taken and taken from you, over and over again, torn away at your life like a scavenger, I can’t steal anything more - “

“Who said anything about stealing?”

For the first time since the grand awkward commencement of honesty hour Gideon felt a genuine smile bloom across her face. “Come on, Nonagesimus, give me some credit. You honestly think I would have stuck around this long if I didn’t know what I was giving you? If I wasn’t getting something out of it too?”

“What could you possibly be getting out of it?”

“You. I like you. Like, a lot. More than I ever thought I would. And I know the brain weasels are going to start yammering about how that’s impossible, and you don't deserve it, and we've still got a mountain of baggage left to work through, but I’ve thought about it a lot and I really mean it. Having you with me has made this whole shitty thing infinitely less shitty."

With a surge of sudden bravery and dizzy emotion, she reached out to take Harrow's hand again and, giving her ample time to pull away, pressed a feather - light kiss to the back. “If you want me here too, sunshine - as your cav or your friend or something else - then I'm not going anywhere."

Harrow closed her eyes, took a deep shuddering breath, and - smiled. A real one, slow and hesitantly sweet, lighting up her careworn face. "I need to think about it - we both should think about it. But I do want you here, in whatever way you want to be."

"Yeah? Cool."

"Cool."

Silence settled upon them for the third time that night, but this time it was different. It was soft and tentative, fragile and new, like budding grave - flowers reaching for the sun. First flowers, the both of them, clawing up out of the grit and finding a way to bloom.

"Should we go to sleep now?" Harrow asked at last, her rasping voice low and quiet. "It's getting late."

"We probably should. Cam and Pal are gonna kill us if we're not up by 6:00 tomorrow. Are you still up for this, though? Like, the whole 'two girls, chilling in a military bunk, zero feet apart 'cause they're freezing and also maybe like each other' thing?"

"Yes. On one condition."

"Anything."

"This might be difficult for you."

"Seriously, Harrow, just tell me. Name it and it's done."

"No sex jokes."

She heaved a sigh, mock - exasperated and so stupidly fond. "As you wish, my dearest darling death omen. As you wish."

It took a while to get comfortable - with Harrow's knobby elbows jabbing Gideon in the stomach, Gideon's clunky knee brace getting tangled in the sheets, the blankets collectively giving up and puddling on the floor at least ten times - but eventually, like everything else, they made it work. They fumbled through the sleep - cuddling confession with an admirable lack of panic on both sides, culminating in a firm agreement that they would let each other know the moment they were at all uncomfortable and an "I trust you" from Harrow so pure in its sincerity that it would be ringing through Gideon's mind for at least a myriad.

Harrow was the first to fall asleep, curled up tight in a cocoon of black fabric, the dark crown of her head just barely brushing the sunburst scar on Gideon's chest. Her shallow breaths fell into an even, steady rhythm, interspersed with whistling snores that Gideon was definitely going to tease her about when her heart was less of a melted puddle of goo.

The minutes slipped by warm and slow as drops of honey as her own eyes grew heavier, fluttering closed. She gave her necromancer - her Lyctor - her beautiful baneful bone empress one last sleepy smile, and drifted off.

(When Camilla went to shake her sparring partner awake the next morning, she found the two of them still sound asleep, wrapped up in each other's arms and looking more peaceful than she'd ever seen them. She huffed a laugh, muttered "finally," and let them be.)

#the locked tomb #tlt #locked tomb trilogy #griddlehark #angst and fluff and love confessions oh my!#the girls are trying to do right by each other and it's a bit of struggle but they're figuring it out

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carlosxhook · 4 years ago

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The Law Of Total Madness ~ H.H

Pairing: Harry Hook x Reader (yes I wrote Got7 into this sue me) + (please don’t I’m broke 🤦‍♀️)

Y/N’s P.O.V

Being Chad Charming’s twin sister was an interesting occurrence, Ben being your best friend for your whole life and growing up around Chad expectation of the perfect sister was exhausting this was where you found your love for singing and dancing thanks to Ben. He also introduced you to your other best friend prince Yugyeom originally from Jypnation and 6 other his friends who made music together the 8 of you were always glued together, you stuck together and turns out it was good for you to get away from Chad he may of been your brother and yes you loved him but god was he unbearable! Even better the 8 of you talk in korean to confuse anyone trying to ease drop Princess love to be some nosey bitches, you were a hip hop dancing, princess role breaking rebellious free soul and Chad HATED that. Perhaps the icing on the cake was that you were secretly dating a Scottish pirate, the only son of Captain Hook, the love of your life Harry Hook. It happened when you and Ben were kidnapped with Ben after convincing him you should go with him for “protection” when really you just wanted to wag chemistry class they kept you and Ben seperate and you and Harry ended up in a long make out session about 15 minutes before the most epic battle you’d ever witnessed, Ben announced that after 6 months since Dizzy, The Twins and Celia came to auradon that 3 more vks would be coming over! Hoping it would be Harry, Uma and Gil you talked to Gil while ‘kidnapped’ you two were close it was nice he seemed genuinely like a good guy, it was nice that he’s loyal to his crew and today was the day they were to arrive. Ben, Chad, Mal, Carlos, Jay, Evie, Doug and I were all gathered around waiting for them to show them around and such, the limo pulls up and all three vks get out my chest gets tight thinking about seeing him again yeah we starting “being a thing” very quickly but I liked him a lot I knew that much “Welcome to Auradon” Ben smiles “Try not to break anything” Chad snarls and I smack him over the head earning a deep chuckle from Harry as he smirks at me “it’s very colourful here” Gil smiles he’s too pure omg “well I would love too stay and help but I promised NaNa I’d be at practice 10 minutes ago, it was lovely too see you all again.” I wave before running off towards the school dance hall and quickly issuing magic to get changed into a red crop top and some high waisted black shorts with black converse, damn I was too cute for my own good sometimes, poor Chad never got any magic my parents had me enchanted when I was little so I could protect myself.

Harry’s P.O.V

“I apologise for Princess Y/N’s departure she’s preparing for a very important event and competition as a representative for Auradon, if any of you need her she’s typically in the dance hall!” Ben hints looking towards me it’s not like her and I were seriously anyways, yeah I liked her, a lot but I’d barely say I thought about her. That’s a lie everyday that stupidly gorgeous girl plagued my mind and she just runs off before I can have her in my arms again, how selfish? Does she even still care about me, about us, we had a connection fuck I knew feelings and l..l...lov that l word made you weak, how pathetic I thought I had a happily ever after.

We go through the entire of auadorn and finally reach the Dance Hall we hear loud music coming from within and I peek in seeing Y/N practicing “let’s watch!” Ben opens the door and we stand at the back my eyes fixated on the gorgeous girl dancing her heart out, “she’s gonna win” Chad laughs at Gils proud statement “please who does she think she is this isn’t the isle she should be in a castle or locked in a tower” Chad snorts “I’m sorry say that again Princey” I growl “cool it” I hear Uma whisper “you wanna get found out huh” she follows. “He’s an ass” I mutter focusing back on the events in front of me Y/N walking towards us with a big smile “what did you think?” She asks as her sparkling eyes meet mine before Chad can even open his mouth I reply “Ye did very good indeed” winking at the now blushing princess “anyways” she chirps “we need 3 more female dancers to back up Yugyeom and I’s duo for the competition, because as much as I’d love too see Jackson, Mark and BamBam in skirts with wigs and heels... I don’t wanna frighten the audience” she giggles looking behind her at the 7 boys now making their way over once they reach us the throw Y/N a questioning look before speaking in what I can only assume in another fucking language.

Y/N’s P.O.V

I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss Harry I did and as much as I wanted to run into his arms and breathe in his scent and glory I know I can’t, I lean over to Uma to get closer to Harry “Hey Uma, I don’t know if ben told you but we are sharing a room, I’m barely ever in my dorm so don’t worry I won’t bother you!” I smile and she just scoffs she’s not the biggest fan of me I mean she did kidnap Ben and I after all, I couldn’t blame her though the Isle was shocking I would wanna get out too I am kinda thankful cause of it I found Harry. That was if he still even liked me, I heard from Mal he’s a player and no good that he flirted with anything that moved I mean one of the old exchange students Nana did that too, and he was harmless I was just hoping Harry’s flirting was too.

“Yugyeom, can we finish I wanna show em to the dorms?” I smile to the fluffy haired boy sweat dripping down his white shirt making it slightly see through “only this once ya, usually I’m the one to try cut practice shorty” he laughs “sweet, don’t forget we go all day tomorrow with the boys!” I point to our 6 other friends and wave shooting them a wink before turning around seeing everyone but the pirates had left “well I’ll shall show you to your rooms I guess” I lead the way to the dorms it’s a bit awkward and the silence burns.

“So Y/N” Gil cuts the air “what’s this competition?” He smiles coming and placing an arm around me I hear Harry growl but I just let Gil rest his arm on me “well it’s a multi-kingdom performance competition, we must sing and dance and the winner’s kingdom hosts a massive party and a heap of important musical performers come for all necks of the woods too play and come watch!” I smile getting excited just thinking about it “Yugyeom and I have a duo, I have a solo and so does he, then a boy group performance and then a girl group performance if we win 3/5 of the categories Auradon will host its first ever K fest, it’ll be amazing!” I stop abruptly “our duo performance is gonna be the best we’ve ever done, and we’ve done a lot” I chuckle “anyways this is the boys dorm 701 Gil and Harry are here and then just down the all at 690 is where Uma will be if y’all need her. Your belongings will be inside for you if you need anything please don’t hesitate to ask” I turn around and walk to my room Uma in tow “so Y/N, been a while huh?” She laughs “indeed it has, how’re you feeling about all this?” I ask pointing around “it’s where I’ve always wanted to get my crew, I got Gil and Harry here, now I need to work on the rest” I see a glint of sadness in her eyes “I’m only really here because I care about those boys and they don’t deserve to rot on an island, yeah they’re dicks and trouble but they’re loyal to me so I am loyal to them, they fight for me so I fight for them. Always!” I was shocked Uma was really caring I didn’t expect this side of her “I’m only telling you this because I know you and Harry are a thing” she pays my back “wait we still are?” I ask hopeful “yeah, the moment he gets you alone he’ll be all over you like a hungry wolf, watch ya back” she laughs I take a deep breath “thank you Uma I wasn’t sure he even still knew me” I lay on my bed and my stomach grubmles “girl you’re so busy dancing you don’t eat” Uma scolds “come on” she grads my hand “were getting you some food!” Running out the door she takes me too the kitchen and starts making food “I used to have make chips all the time at the shop, so hopefully Auradon sir makes them taste better than the grubby isle ones” she scoffs “Uma, can I ask something?” I nervously fiddle “sure princess what’s up?” She says cutting up potatos “Did Harry’s father ever abuse him?” She seems taken aback “it’s just I remember telling Harry I’d stay behind he just had to pretend he had me at sword point, and he said he’d never even pretend to do such a thing because he wasn’t his father.” I wipe a few tears I was confused was Harry harmful “Harry gets his father’s temper or therefore lack of, he had outbursts, I’m sure he’ll still have them, yes to put it shortly his father before he was in the crew would often abuse him. But it wasn’t uncommon, not in the isle love is a weakness.” “Then am I weak for loving him no matter what Uma” why was I even opening up to her “no because I think you could be good for him, just don’t turn him” she jokes “or I’ll use this” she holds her shell out “yes captain!” We laugh. “Maybe finally having a roommate won’t be so bad aye” I smile as she cooks Uma might actually be a really great friend and she knows more about Harry than anyone else maybe Hook and I could work.

*The Next Day*

“Those boys I swear are always late” I mutter to no one in particular “now what’s a gorgeous girl like you doing standing ‘ere all alone?” My heart jumps hearing his voice again “Hi Harry” I turn around smiling “ye know isle got boring without a princess to kiss” she smirks “is that so, awe Harry did you miss me” I joke about he moves closer “believe me or not love, I actually did. Let’s say you left a bit of a mark on me so to speak” I giggle “now come here babe” I pull him in for a long and heated kiss “Lovely doing business with ye princess” he smirks spinning around and walking out. What the actual fuck was that, what is he playing at I’m not just some toy, I turn on the music and start dancing to Bonnie & Clyde by Dean nothing can distract me not even Harry.

Harry’s P.O.V

I fucked it up I panicked and played fuck boy player again the confident fascade is what I’m know by I must keep it up, show no emotion, no weakness. Sorry princess. It’s just how I am.

I walk to uma’s room and knock on the door “yeah what” I hear her shout “it’s me” and like that the door flies open “Where’s Gil?” She questions “running round with Jay apparently they’re besties or whatever I’m just letting the dog loose” I plop myself down on the princess’ bed “geez Auradon beds are comfy” I sigh “I don’t think your little girlfriend would appreciate your smelly leather and metal scent over her sheets” Uma jokes “not me girlfriend” I point out “I’d watch it if I were you then, she gushed on about that Yugyeom boy for a very long time, of she ain’t yours surely she’ll be his I mean they’re never not together.” As if on cue in walks Y/N “Hey Uma did you see where I put my tablets, the ones with the orange jar, I’ve got a massive headache.” She rubs her head still unaware I’m laying on her bed “yeah left hand side of the bathroom counter top” she smiles did I miss something what are they all of a sudden so... friendly...

“Thank you so much oh and by the way I’ll be back late tonight so don’t wait up I’ll sneak in, Yugyeom and I have to rehearse til late cause Ben wants to come watch us and make sure it’s all good” I watch as she leaves then I close my eyes and drift off too sleep surprisingly.

“Harry wake up omg” I hear as I open my eyes too see Uma standing above me “what?” I ask rubbing me eyes then picking up me hook “get off of Y/N’s bed and wake up she’s gonna be here soon” she scoffs “surely she wouldn’t mind a handsome looking lad in her bed waiting for ‘er” I laugh.

Y/N’s P.O.V

“Ben I don’t really understand?” I question “you want us... to kiss?” I point between Yugyeom and I “yes the chemistry is there I’m telling you it’s the winning touch, the performance is so dynamic it just needs the big ending, it’ll leave everyone shocked, stunned and more importantly it shows how well you work together.” The king smiles “are you sure this is a good idea?” He’s gone crazy completely mad oh this is not going to end well “let’s call it a day you two need to eat and back again tomorrow for more practice” Ben smiles holding the door open for us both, “he’s not serious right Y/N” Yugyeom whispers “I hope he’s not, but something tells me he is, it’s fine gyu we are the best this is nothing!” I smile placing a hand on his shoulder “what about that boy?” He asks in a small voice “we aren’t dating he made that very clear, who cares this is our dream we are so close!” I smile side hugging him and briefly laying my head on his “fighting!!” I smile before grabbing his hand and walking to my dorm he always walks me to the door of my room when we practice late “Thanks Yugyeom!” I smile “let’s work hard tomorrow!” I hug him really tightly saying goodbye and open the door to find Uma working on something and Harry asleep on my bed “I don’t remember ordering a strange man in my bed, Uma I think this ones for you.” I point to the pirate passed out on my bed “he’s been like that for hours, I don’t think he’s sleeping at night” Uma shrugs “I’ll be back I have to go try round up Gil watch the scot” I laugh before going to change clothes in the bathroom I walk out no more than 10 minutes later and he’s still there snoring away. “Harry I told you if you were struggling to come find me” I play with his hair and carefully remove the hook placing it right next to my bed I grab the spare blanket from the cupboard and put it over him and when I go to walk away I hear “Please, just stay with me love” he says almost way too soft “I’ll explain later just please” I notice he’s shaking must be nightmares or ptsd “it’s okay Harry I’m right here, I’m always gonna be okay” I smile placing a soft kiss on his forehead and jumping into the free slither of bed he’s left much for my surprise he moves and pulls me close with his arm around my stomach before I know it I’m fast asleep.

Harry’s P.O.V

I woke up and there she was in my arms and it felt right, it felt like nothing could ruin this moment until once again I panicked I’m not used to feeling this I grab my hook and leave her all alone, pangs if guilt hit me but I ignore them I’m a pirate the best one I don’t need feelings they make you weak and I will never be weak. I will make my father proud he will call me his son and I’ll finally have a family, I don’t need some stupid princess to distract me.

Y/N’s P.O.V

I woke up alone in my bed with nothing left but the memory and slight scent of metal and the ocean, or was it leather? Doesn’t matter now he used me again and I let him, I need to watch myself no distractions that would discredit all of Yugyeom and I’d hard work I’m letting Harry ruin this for me. That being said another day another practice T-minus 1 week until we gotta rock this competition he’s obviously gotta work himself else I ain’t here for his amusement ugh, today there’s a big school meeting where we perform some songs as a taster for the school and our sister school (team) Ateez High are sending over their recruits to perform, I can’t wait we have had these prepared forever so we got this in the bag.

{Might do a series on this one, kinda proud my first imagine for Harry Hook x Y/N reader I had to add something kpop okay just bear with me! Got a few requests so I’ll be getting right into them⚡️🤍}

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spectrumed · 3 years ago

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5. sleep

It hardly gets dark in the Swedish summers. Between dusk to dawn, you’ve got about an hour to fall asleep before the sun rises again. If you struggle to fall asleep that fast, you can invest in some good window blinds. Or you can do as I do and place one big pillow over your face. Then the birds start singing around three o’clock in the morning. You can practically hear the sounds of Edvard Grieg’s Morning Mood playing at around four o’clock in the morning. Around five o’clock in the morning, it is as bright as midday. Did you have a good time sleeping? Or did you pace around in a circle having one hell of a panic attack? I thought you took some of those sleeping pills you got prescribed, they should have helped you fall asleep… wait, you did take them? They didn’t work? Oh, they did work, you just felt your body falling asleep while your mind stayed awake? That sounds terrible, real terrible. Very well. It’s morning now. Want some coffee?

You could form a religion out of sleeping. Let’s have sermons where we fill a whole auditorium full of beds and have our congregates take a big collective nap. Sleep for the sleep god! Pillows for the pillow throne! Sleep is a billion-dollar industry, there’s a plethora of handy products you can buy that promise to send you on a luxury liner to dreamland. Pills, mattresses, dreamcatchers, whatever your snoozy heart desires. You can go to a proper doctor and they might help you, or you can settle for the placebo effect and go to some fraudulent quack, instead. He might make you swallow some pills that contain arsenic, but hey, arsenic is a naturally occurring element. It can’t be all that bad for you if it is natural. And you do want to sleep, don’t you? If you take this pill in your mouth and swallow it with a glass of water, I promise you, you will sleep for a very long time.

The esteemed former president of the United States of America, Donald Trump, claims that he only needs four to five hours of sleep every night. While Mr. Trump is well-known to be a paragon of honesty, I do doubt he’s telling the truth. No, I actually do believe him when says that he only gets about four or five hours of sleep each night, I just don’t believe him when he says that is all he needs. He doesn’t look very well-rested, does he? And Margaret Thatcher, the similarly adored former prime minister of the United Kingdom, claimed that she also only needed about four hours of sleep every night. Yes, while researching the sleeping habits of famous monsters, I’ve come to the conclusion that amongst powerful individuals, not getting enough sleep has become a proper badge of honour. The belief is that if you don’t get enough sleep, that must be because you are living such a vibrantly successful life, and are so career-driven, that you simply haven’t got enough time to sleep for the full eight hours. People who sleep for more than four hours are lazy liberals. Go-getters like Trump has got to be out there, working, making decisions, raping women, and showing daddy what a good boy he is. Sleep is for the weak. But maybe I am weak. I sure like sleeping.

It’s the cultural hangover our society has had since the 80’s. Back when the yuppies wearing jackets with obscenely padded shoulders would happily chuck down eight to ten espressos in one go while A Flock of Seagulls was playing on the radio encouraging everyone to go running. And to be fair to them, with the constant fear of the doomsday clock hitting midnight, they really had no reason to think that they’d survive the decade. The new millennia, it seemed, would have no cities, no nature, no humans, only radiated mutants scouring the rubble that remains of civilization for cans of preserved something edible. Self-destructive behaviour was in. It was fashionable. Doubt people got enough sleep back then, between snorting coke and wondering if the next pandemic that hits the night clubs would start killing as many straight folks as gay folks. Well, here we are in the new 20’s, and we’ve got a pandemic that does appear to kill people regardless of sexual orientation. Sure, the looming threat of nuclear obliteration has been lessened dramatically, but we’ve largely come to exchange that anxiety for the fear of total environmental collapse, instead. No wonder 80’s nostalgia is a big thing right now. History doesn't repeat itself, but It often rhymes, said Mark Twain (supposedly.) I wonder how much coke Mark Twain would snort if he lived in the 80’s.

I notice a palpable difference in my mood and mental state when I’ve been getting good amounts of sleep. Lack of sleep results in lack of clear thinking. Caffeine, though it is something I am chronically addicted to, does not help fix a sleep-deprived mind. There are no tricks of revolutionary “life hacks” one can employ to get out of sleeping. To recover from depression, one has to sleep. Sleep often and sleep well. I cannot understate the importance of being well-rested. You cannot process information if you are tired. I am reminded of my teenage years seeing friends of mine who’d stay up all night, then come into school shuffling like agonised zombies. They got so frustrated when the teachers reprimanded them for snoozing in class. Well, dummies, it is your fault for drinking several dozen cans of Red Bull every day! I know that sleep does not always come easy. I know the terror of insomnia. But, c’mon! At some point, you’ve got to realise that sleep is essential. Maybe most of your problems stem from the fact that you refuse to get enough of it? Here’s where the tough love comes in. If you wanna get better, kiddo, then listen to me. It’s bedtime. Yes, I know you’d rather stay up late playing monopoly with your friends, but I’m confiscating your dice and I’ll only give it back to you when you’ve gotten some good sleep. Okay? You hear me, missy? You listen to your daddy now, and go to bed. No ifs or buts about it, princess, I’ve made myself clear. I know what is best for you, and you know that I am right. I’m your daddy.

But what if I can’t seem to fall asleep? Normally, it takes a long time for me to fall asleep. It is not uncommon for me to stay awake for two hours, maybe more, before I finally begin to sleep. Fearing that I won’t fall asleep gives me anxiety. That anxiety keeps me awake. I turn my body. I try lying on my side. First my left side, then my right side. I then try to lie on my back. I’ve got a song stuck playing in my head. Not even the whole song, just a ten-second segment of it. It’s playing over and over. I’m worried about the future, will I ever find security, will I ever find a wife, will I get to grow old? I worry about death. I keep hearing the music playing, it’s grating. I rearrange the pillows, in hopes that will make me feel more comfortable. But no, I keep tossing and turning like a fish caught on land. I’m getting frustrated. If only I could shut off my brain. I’m constantly thinking. I turn to my side again, but now I notice I’ve moved arounds so much that now the bed has shifted away from its position next to the wall. There’s now a gap between the bed and the wall. I almost fall down that gap. I get up and I push the bed back against the wall. I lay down in bed. The song is still playing.

How am I ever going to become a successful businessman if I am wasting so many hours just trying to get to sleep? This is the time I should be spending on the phone, yelling at people and making inappropriate sexual comments to my female employees. That is what good executives do. I need to get my life in order. I need to exercise more. I should practice mindfulness. I should get a life coach, a personal trainer, a stylist, an accountant, an assistant, a trophy wife, and a mistress. I need people in my life to take care of me. It’s funny how rich people create the sort of environment around them where people will take care of all their needs, effectively infantilising them. These people don’t even get to decide how to dress themselves. They’ve got fancy apartments, but they don’t choose any of the furniture. They’ve got art on the walls that they don’t like, but the art looks expensive, and that is all that matters. They’ve got kids, but they don’t raise them. Their spouses are cheating on them, but in fairness, they are cheating on their spouses. They don’t really even know what their jobs entails, as they’ve gotten promoted so many times that they’ve ended up in a position that is totally outside their realm of expertise. But they’re so powerful that no-one is able to fire them over their pretty blatant incompetence. They’re successful. They’ve made it. But they still can’t sleep at night. They only manage to successfully fall asleep at night after swallowing a fistful of pills along with a swig of vodka.

It must be easy being a self-help guru. Well, what I mean to say is that all you really need is charisma, which is something you need to be born with. But you don’t need to do any actual studying, any real research, or any kind of soul-searching or deliberation. All you need is to state what is obvious. You go on stage in front of an anxious audience, mostly composed of middle-class salesmen and miscellaneous white collar ghosts. You smile, show off your eerily bright teeth, and they clap. You tell them to go take care of themselves, to eat more healthily, to take walks, or go swimming, and love their partners. You tell them to drink less, or maybe, if they feel like it, they could drink more. I am sure you could spin alcohol as a positive or a negative, depending on what crowd you’re talking to. Tell them to appreciate family. Tell them to appreciate others. Live, laugh, but most of all, love. Tell them to go clean their rooms. Tell them to remember that if they’re on an airplane that is about to crash land, they need to put their own oxygen mask on before they can help others put theirs on. If you don’t love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else? Now, go to bed!

You know all this stuff. Me telling you that you should sleep more doesn’t really help you. You know that you should sleep more. It’s not like as if you’re too dumb to realise that. And it’s not like as if you’re too dumb to realise that it is better to drink in moderation, and that you should smoke less weed. There are many small little things you can do to improve your life, to stop being a terminally unemployed slacker. It’s like your grandpa who tells you stories about life after the war when you could walk into the biggest building in town, slam your fist against the table and demand to be given a job and a house and a wife and a couple of kids, and that was all you needed to do. He can’t comprehend the fact that society doesn’t work like that, any more. Most people my generation have given up hope of ever owning a home, at least if they happen to live in the vicinity of a larger city. It seems that, no matter where you live, the cost of homes has risen to an impenetrable degree. It seems just as likely that you will be able to afford your very own genetically-engineered pet dragon before you will get to be a house-owner. It’s the fault of those damn boomers, why bother changing your ways, when the boomers are still in charge? Others may accuse you of wallowing in your own depression, but you are perfectly aware that this is exactly what you are doing. You are self-aware. But self-awareness on its own is not enough to motivate anyone. You still can’t see the point in doing anything constructive with your life. Life just feels so aimless. It’s easier to sit, smoke weed, and watch cartoons.

Pop psychology is problematic. To say the least. Take all those self-help gurus suffering from their messiah complexes and put them through the shredder. Don’t buy books thinking that they’ll offer you the kind of treatment you would get from an actual psychiatrist. I know that, depending on where you are in the world, treatment can get very expensive, but you’re not going to get better reading the book of some self-aggrandising narcissist’s collection of wishy-washy platitudes. Dr. Phil has done great evil pretending to be a therapist on the TV, and Jordan Peterson (despite having once been an esteemed scholar) has turned a generation of young internet-savvy zoomers into proto-fascists obsessed with the monogamy of lobsters. Pop psychology has become a guise for cult leaders to reap new followers. Getting treatment should not feel like joining a new religious movement. Maybe I’m just one of those annoying atheists, but I dare say, psychiatry works at its best when it's secular. You should not look at your psychiatrist as a prophet speaking to God. They’re just a doctor, and you need treatment.

I do not aspire to create a self-help blog. I do not promise that reading this blog will help you in any way. I would be overjoyed if someone came up to me and told me that I had inspired them to seek help. You may tell me that reading my words have made you feel less alone, knowing that others have gone through all these things that you are going through. When I felt at my worst, I remember reading the memoirs of people I admired who had similarly struggled in their lives, and I felt less alone. But none of those books pretended to exist principally to help others. Those books did help me, through the candid descriptions of struggles that I thought I was alone in experiencing. Knowing that some people had pulled through, managed to find a light at the end of the tunnel, it made me think I could one day be like them. The books didn’t seek to fix me, but they offered me a perspective that came to be very valuable later on, when I started going to therapy, and when I later started taking medication. Sometimes that is all you need. Not someone standing over you and telling you to go to bed, or to clean your room, or to stop drinking. You know all that, already. What you really need is the reassurance that things can indeed get better. Sleep will come.

#neurodiversity #neurodivergent #autism spectrum disorder #autism #aspergers #mental health

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majesticbrownjawn · 4 years ago

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Delicate Part Three

Part One

Part Two

They rode quietly back to their side of town, Violet in a contemplative state of awe the whole way.

How'd he know her name? Maybe it was a freaky, weird coincidence.

She was completely taken by E. How'd he will her to give herself to him so quickly? She hadn't done anything like since her 20's. Her entire being wanted to stay there in Oakland, which let her brain know she had to do the opposite.

She had to stay away from him.

"You have to stay away from him," Trina said as she was climbing out of Violet's car. It was like her best friend had heard her thoughts and repeated them to make sure your got the picture.

"What?"

"He's no good, Vi," she asserted.

"How would you know? You just met him yourself." Violet's tone was defensive and she didn't know why, but Trina was absolutely right.

"I-I just know his type...AND know he had you with your drawers hanging around your ankles when I found you," she answered with an air of satisfaction in her voice. "God knows how many other women he's had like looking that."

Violet's eyes bulged in horror. She was always the more level-headed of the two. Sensible and practical were her middle names. Her role in their relationship was the responsible one. Violet relished in being the wise friend who always seemed to have it together and just a few hours with E was already tarnishing her image.

"Did you see him though?" Violet was trying her best to appeal to Trina's weakness for attractive men. She couldn't pick a guy with character to save her life, but they were almost always fine, and Violet was an eyewitness to Trina's inventory of E when she introduced them at the party.

Trina huffed and folded her arms at Violet disapprovingly.

"Fine. I already decided I would stay away from him. That's why I ran out of there so fast."

****

Violet loved food.

It was no wonder, though. She didn't just magically wake up one day in her pillowy-soft body.

But she turned that love for food into a craft, and studied culinary arts in Paris. Chef V's years of experience working under the best chefs in Europe made her a shoe-in for one of the few Michelin-starred restaurants in the States. She was the only Black woman executive chef of a restaurant of this caliber, which was both an honor and a shame to her. She wanted nothing more than to help other Black women in the her industry come up, but found the balance of trying to stay on top of her game and making time to give back a challenge. Doing anything other than working was a challenge for her. Maybe that was why she was so easily swayed by someone like E.

Her thoughts briefly went back to that day, now two months in the past—and she shuttered a bit at the thought of him. She would have been lying if she said she was glad he never contacted her. But she knew not hearing from him was for the best.

The sound of clanking fine china and sizzling kobe beef buzzed around her as she stood in the center of an upscale kitchen barking out orders like Gordon Ramsey. This kind of power gave her a high that was as exhilarating as it was exhausting. Everyone looked to her for direction and approval, a position she was quite familiar with.

Her younger siblings looked to her for guidance after her parents' death as a teenager and from then on, people kind of just sensed the leader in her. She was forced into being this person at a young age—maybe too young – but eventually embraced it. The consequence was that she came off as a snobby, slightly controlling bitch who thought she was smarter than everyone else.

Almost everyone.

Violet ran a tight ship and mistakes were not tolerated, so when her sous chef Suzie ran into the kitchen with beet-red cheeks and a half-eaten plate, she was curious as to what the flustered woman would say.

"There's a man out there," Suzie whispered.

"Speak up, Suzie. I can barely hear you."

"He said his steak is undercooked."

A collective silence fell over the kitchen as everyone stopped to see what Chef V would do next. She jerked her head back and studied the steak on the returned plate.

It was cooked to perfection.

She smacked her teeth before heading to the kitchen doors to peer out of its circular windows. She scanned the restaurant briefly, trying to pick up on who she thought the picky customer might be. She usually had an eye for patrons who liked to complain in hopes of a free meal, but she couldn't quite figure it out tonight.

"Who sent it back?"

"Him...over there at table 46."

Table 46 was the best table in the house. You could see the entire city skyline from its positioning and it was purposefully tucked away for the sake of privacy. Violet had served numerous celebrities and wealthy diners at table 46. She didn't think to look over there initially. When she did, the silhouette of strong, broad shoulders caught her eye. She pushed the doors open with frustration, ready to take on this tasteless customer, but as she marched forward, more of the man's physique came into focus. And the man's physique was familiar.

His hair—locs – specifically, was finally what caused her to stop dead in her tracks. Suzie, following a bit too closely, crashed into Violet, sending the returned plate cascading to the floor. The commotion caused half the restaurant to look in their direction and had Violet not been so caught up in the man, she would have been embarrassed.

But she was caught up.

Violet audibly gasped when he turned to face her. But it wasn't him. It wasn't E. As she dismissed herself back to the kitchen, she felt a bit of sadness that the picky customer wasn't the man who so easily made her feel open enough to do things she'd never done, but always dreamed of doing—especially as it pertained to sex. Unfortunately, there was a side of her that she'd never explored. She'd never found the right person she felt safe enough to do those things with, so she fantasized about them instead. That is, until she met him.

"Just cook him another one," she flatly told Suzie, completely defeated. Her sous chef quickly got to work on a replacement steak, while Violet slipped away to her small office in the rear of the kitchen.

"You would work at a bougie ass place like this, wouldn’t you?”

His voice caused an immediate reaction from her body, though she refused to let him know it. Part of her was angry, seeing him after all this time, smiling smugly at her in her office. She stared at him sternly before speaking.

"How'd you get back here?"

"You thought that nigga was me, didn't you?"

"Ye—you didn't answer my question."

"You didn't answer mine, babygirl." Her stomach fluttered at that name. Then she thought about him figuring out her real name.

"How'd you know my name?"

"Lucky guess," he smirked. "Your name is really Violet?" He said sarcastically.

She huffed and pointed to the embroidered script of her name and title on her chef coat.

"Lucky guess, my ass. How'd you get back here, E?"

He took a seat in front of her, as confident and fine as ever. The fitted turtleneck he wore had her feeling vulnerable. A bearded gentleman in a turtleneck was something she could hardly ever resist. So this man, though far from what she considered a gentleman, would certainly be a challenge to overcome. She'd already succumb to his charm once and she couldn't blame that time on piece of clothing.

She remained standing in between his obnoxiously widespread legs. He leaned back into the cushiony chair, totally relaxed.

And in control.

"One of my girls—" he cleared his throat unnecessarily. "I know one of the hostesses."

"Why are you here? Did you know I worked here?"

"Why you asking all these questions? You not happy to see me?" He leaned forward and rested an elbow to his knee.

"I don't have time for this. You come up in here playing games on the busiest night of the week. You can see yourself out, E."

She quickly side-stepped his legs on a mission to make it to the door, but he caught her hand just before she was out of reach.

"Where are you going, Violet." His question wasn't a question at all.

"What do you want from me?" She was sincere in her query. Why'd he show up here, two months later?

"I wanna fuck you, girl. Make them pretty ass eyes roll to the back of your head again."

Them eyes—her eyes, broke contact with his and drifted to his crotch. His dick print was visible on his inner thigh. She wanted to touch it so badly. She hadn't gotten the chance to the first time.

"You see it," he smirked.

It was hard to miss.

"Got me hard as fuck watching you do your thing, Chef V," he teased.

His hand led her back in front of him.

"Maybe I'll let you boss me around one day like you do these peons in yo kitchen."

She gulped loudly when he stood up, his physical presence looming over her making her feel small again, just how she liked.

E kissed her with enough power to topple her over, but the desk was there to catch her.

He didn't stop when her position suddenly lowered under him, he just readjusted and leaned down into her. She moaned shamefully when his tongue wiggled into her mouth and his hand groped her breast. The thick chambray material of her chef jacket was getting in the way of her feeling the full sensation of his hands and it frustrated her. The way his adept fingers teased her nipples the day they met was all she could think about when she moved his hand under her top.

"I guess you did miss me, Chef V."

"Shut up," she groaned. She didn't need him reminding her of the obvious. Reminding her what she was doing was uncharacteristic and stupid.

"I missed you."

Did he really just try that playa shit on her? I missed you? The sirens she heard when she met him at his house party had officially made their return.

"I said shut up."

"Aye," his voice was calm but his eyes were ablaze.

There was a passion in them that quickly reminded her of E choking her in his workroom. She was terrified at first, but when he realized it was her and his hands loosened around her neck, she realized she very much liked the way they felt. Warm and firm.

Invigorating.

"I said you could boss me around one day, not

TO-day."

His hands roughly gripped the back of her knees and pulled her closer. Their middles met and she couldn't help but grind up against his erection as he nibbled and sucked on her lips.

"You really just came here to fuck me, E?" She managed to get out.

"Yea."

Violet didn't expect such a direct answer. She kind of wished he'd lied to her. That he told her she was special and that he wanted to get to know her.

But who was she kidding?

She didn't really want to get to know him. He was dangerous and not the type of man she could settle down with. This was all they could ever have.

Good sex.

No—great, amazing, superb sex.

Top two, not two sex.

The best sex she'd ever had.

She prayed it wouldn't be the best she would ever have. But was fantastic sex worth the space he took up in her head the last few months?

E started kissing her again, successfully distracting her from overthinking. He'd started unbuttoning her jacket when a loud knock on the door startled her. She stared at him like she was looking for him to tell her what to do. He shrugged and kissed her again.

"They'll go away," he whispered.

Another knock.

"Hold on!" She yelled, trying her best to quickly button herself back up. E rolled his eyes as he watched her frantically try to gather herself.

"...Stay," he said, calmly unbuttoning each button right after she'd fasten them. He hoped a kiss to her temple would convince her to remain in his presence a while longer. She contemplated it until she saw the handle of her office door turning.

She yanked herself loose from his grasp and stormed out of her office. She didn't even look at the person who'd been knocking. All she saw was a blur of someone in black. Violet didn't even get mad that they'd opened her door without her permission. She was grateful in a way. Grateful for an escape. God knows how long and how loud they would have been in there hunching.

She took a moment to compose herself before returning to her duties. Violet was literally hot all over. She stealthily grabbed a cup of ice from a machine towards the back of the kitchen. There was a spot just past her office that was a hideaway for her when she didn't want to be found by the few people brave enough to knock on her door, which made her wonder who knocked on her door tonight. It wasn't someone from the kitchen. All of her staff wore white. The thoughts of what the mystery person had interrupted with E quickly flooded her thoughts.

The few top buttons of her jacket were still unfastened thanks to E. She slid a piece of ice up and down her neck and across the top of her chest. Her mind raced back to him. His hot hands grazing her flesh, inching closer to her breasts. Her mind was gone and her hands, with the ice in them, were making circles over her sensitive, hardened tips. She wanted to cum so badly. She focused on him. The way his turtleneck clung to his muscular arms, hinting at the wonder that was his scar-laden body. His scent was still on her from being so close moments ago.

Mahogany.

Coconut.

Cedar.

The way his tongue explored her mouth. The way he grabbed her like she belonged to him. The ice between her fingers soon melted and her digits quickly found their way into her panties, hungrily applying pressure to her clit. It didn't take much effort to make herself cum after being deprived of him for eight weeks. The thrill of seeing him was more than enough to excite her in ways she'd never felt before.

But why?

She chuckled to herself as she washed her hands before heading back to the main area of the kitchen. He had her acting totally different and part of her liked it.

The look of relief on her sous chef Suzie's face was comical as he drew close to her.

"Thank God you're back, Chef V."

"Everything okay?"

"Yea, I guess. You know I just get nervous without you here. I just don't want anything bad to happen when you leave me in charge."

Suzie was a young woman in her mid-twenties. Violet took her under her wing because she had great potential and because she was Black. Mentoring her was the least she could do to give back to the next generation, but sometimes Suzie was a worrywart and annoyed Violet to no end. She could already feel the high of her orgasm wearing off.

"Did you remake table 46's steak?"

"Yes. He loved it."

"Okay and did the kitchen catch on fire while I was gone?" She looked around in an extra manner for added effect.

Suzie shook her head no.

"See? Everything is fine. You need to relax."

Violet took her place back at the center of the kitchen, putting finishing touches on plates in the special way she's been gifted to, and even took moments to praise or constructively critique the work of her staff. She could see how pleased they were to have her working side-by-side with them and made a mental note to have more nights in the kitchen like tonight.

Minus the part with E.

And her private moment with the ice.

***

The restaurant was not only heralded for some of the best dishes in the world, but it was also home to one of the country's most expensive delicacies—a chocolate cake covered in gold leaves. It was rare someone ordered it, because despite the wealthy clientele they served, a $15,000 dessert wasn't something people ordered every day. When Suzie told Violet table 46 had ordered the expensive ass cake, she gave her an impressed look and headed for the refrigerated safe where they kept the golden flecks.

She made her way to the back of the kitchen, just past her office and private corner. As she strolled back by her office with the gold leaves in hand, she thought she heard something — a voice — on the other side of her office door. She brushed it off and kept walking, but then remembered she never saw him leave. But to be fair, she never saw his creepy ass enter the kitchen in the first place, so whatever she thought she heard had to be her mind playing with her.

Violet dropped the leaves off with her pastry chef and tried to busy herself with work that did nothing to keep her brain from thinking about who may or may not be still in her office. Finally frustrated enough with herself and him for making her crazy, she marched back to her office, her chest filled with air and ready to go off of need be.

She flung the door open but was quickly deflated by the sight in front of her. Her eyes immediately zeroed in on E standing in the corner of her office with a woman on her knees in front of him. His brows were knitted together tightly and the intense look of pleasure on his face made her pussy throb with want. E slowly brought his eyes to Violet standing at the door watching him getting his dick sucked. She knew that he knew she had been there a few moments before giving her his attention. It felt like he knew she'd arrive at the exact time she did. Just in time for his show.

Violet stood there frozen, mouth slightly agape in a mixture of shock, jealousy and desire.

The woman on her knees wore all black and was sporting hair extensions that trailed down her back. Violet concluded she was the woman who knocked on her office door earlier, likely the hostess E slipped up and called one of his "girls." Violet could see why she was. She could suck a mean dick. The woman's mouth slowly trailed up his shaft, saliva dripping down her chin. The chef looked in awe at his cock, seeing him fully hard from this vantage point had her wondering how she took him so easily. E's dick disappeared into the hostesses' throat and it was enough to make him groan.

"Yea. Just like that." He was staring at Violet when he said it, like she was the one on her knees in front of him. The hostesses moaned at his praise, but he wasn't talking to her.

Violet had quietly closed the door behind her and was palming her sensitive breasts. Her eyes closed as she listened to the sounds in the room.

His labored breathing.

The hostesses' lude slurping and gagging.

Her own barely audible mewls.

"Look at me."

Violet knew he was talking to her without opening her eyes. Somehow, the hostess was still unaware of a third party in the room with her and E, stealing his attention from the good work she was doing on his dick.

Violet's eyes remained closed.

"Open your eyes." His command was surprisingly sweet, but laced with urgency.

"Iljshfhro," the hostess garbled. Violet assumed the woman was trying to tell E was indeed looking at him, but the hot dick in her mouth was prohibiting her from being fully understood.

Violet's eyes opened involuntarily from quietly laughing at how ridiculous the woman on her knees sounded. E smirked at Violet, unable to control his smile as he looked at her amused expression.

"C'mere, baby."

The smile had widened across his face, making the caps on his bottom row gleam against the soft lighting in the office. Perhaps the warm smile he gave her was the trick to getting her close to him. He felt relieved when she took a step forward, he was growing impatient and was dangerously close to begging her to come to him. E's desire for her had ballooned over the course of eight weeks and was on the verge of exploding. After meeting and subsequently fucking her that day, his mind frequently revisited their dalliance, sometimes in the most inopportune moments, like when he was blowing the backs out of other women. The most recent time it happened, he went fully soft inside one of his favorites when he looked down and realized she wasn't Violet.

He thought not only of the way her ample backside bounced beautifully against his scarred flesh, but of her wit and bold personality. Then there was the way he naturally felt possessive of her. E's teeth gritted together when he thought of how his homeboy looked at her gripping onto his bannister as they had sex. He came to the conclusion that he had to have her again, despite the nagging voice in his head telling him otherwise. At the least, he hoped sexing her again would get her out of his system. But in the moments when he was honest with himself, he knew the opposite was a more likely outcome.The hostess' head shifted in the direction of the door, but E's voice stopped her before she saw Violet approaching them.

"Don't look at her," he told the woman. Her head snapped back to its original positioning. E said it like he wanted to protect Violet. Like he knew Violet wouldn't be ok with the thirsty hostess knowing she was just as parched and needy for him.

E looked back at V with more tender eyes than he'd just had with the other woman. Violet was unsure if she was okay with his tone with hostess, even if it was to her advantage. Nevertheless, she moved until she was standing in front of him, the hostess wedged between them on the floor and looking to E for permission to do anything.Violet was captivated once again by his masculine beauty. And she didn't know it, but he was just as taken by her. He licked his lips as he stared at her plump ones, longing to tug and taste them again. He broke eye contact with her to look down at the pitiful soul under him. Waiting for direction on what she should do next.

"Get back to sucking my dick. Now," he commanded.

He shoved the woman's head into his groin and she happily continued gagging on him. Violet stepped even closer to him. Close enough that her stance called for her to straddle each of her feet just outside the hostesses' legs. Ever the obedient sub, the woman never looked behind her to see the woman hovering over her. She only did want he wanted, and E wanted her servicing his dick at the moment.

E reached out to grab the back of Violet's neck and kissed her feverishly. Her hands instantly found a place on his pebbled chest. The sensation of his scars against her palms sent tingles throughout her body and she fleetingly wondered again just what they meant and how he got them. She watched as he painfully pulled himself away from her and took a long look at his dick making its way in and out of the hostesses' mouth. He watched it like he didn't recognize it as an extension of himself.

"You see how fat my shit is for you?"

Violet didn't answer. She only continued staring with her lip wedged between her teeth at the scene she'd now become a part of. Her eyes struggled to keep focus on just his dick, though. E was too entrancing just to focus on one thing, even if that thing was his long, thick and currently, sinfully shiny dick.

Violet watched the way his fingers massaged the hostess' scalp while she swallowed him, making his biceps flex in a way that made Violet want to snatch the other woman off of him and take her place on her knees—mouth open and tongue out.

"You wanna suck it, don't you?"

"Yes," Violet squeaked before she realized what she was doing. E really had her caught up. She covered her mouth in shame.

He shook his head at her, laughing at her slip up. "Not yet, babygirl. Sit your cute ass over there."

Violet quickly plopped down in an upholstered chair a few feet behind her.

"Pull them titties out for me. I want to see you play with them while I cum for you."

V felt an uncontrollable shiver come over her that literally rattled every muscle in her body. It felt eerily similar to the feeling she got right before she orgasmed. She unbuttoned her chef coat and just barely touched herself. The light passes over her nipples were sending her in a way that felt as intense as squeezing them normally would. The sight before him was too much for him to hold on to any longer. E's mouth curled into the shape of an 'O' before his eyes briefly fluttered shut.

"I'm bout to cuuum...Gotdamn, shit baby."

His eyes opened to look at Violet and he pulled himself out of the hostess' mouth, preferring to use his hand to finish himself off. He tugged at his dick while looking at her gently rolling her fingertips across her engorged nipples. The waitress knew him well enough to calculate the exact moment he would cum. She stuck her tongue out in excitement and anticipation of his seed, admittedly in love with the feeling of his hot cum plastered across her face and tits. It was always her reward for being a good girl for him.

But she wouldn't enjoy one of her favorite parts of sex with him today. Instead of painting her with his orgasm, E shot his cum over her shoulder and in the direction of the woman sitting in the chair behind her. It shot out of him like nothing Violet had ever seen, so much so that some of it landed on the hem of her top. She stared down at the creamy substance and licked her lips, tempted to taste it.

"Get out." E's voice was low and void of energy. That nut took a lot out of him.

Violet remained in place, fixated on the jizz on her jacket.

"Babygirl," he called again. Violet looked up at him. His eyelids were heavy, but the look was sexy on him. He tilted his head and looked at her for a moment before shifting his head in the direction of the door. "You should leave."

"But I—," she started. He shook his head at her, silently telling her not to speak. In this moment, Violet didn't care about the waitress knowing who she was. All she cared about was staying with him. She knew what eight weeks without him was like and the yearning she felt for a man she'd only been around for a few hours was agonizing. And pitiful. She stood her ground—silently–for a few moments, hoping he'd demand the other woman to leave instead.

"Go," he told Violet once more. This time she finally turned to make her way to the door, but not before giving him a pout that she was completely oblivious of. Her feet were going one way, but her head was turned and looking at E. He kept eye contact with her until the hostess tugged on him.

"Why didn't you give me your cum?" the woman whined. "Wasn't I good for you?"

E let out a sigh, but it didn't feel like a frustrated one.

"We need to talk," he told the hostess as Violet reluctantly left them alone in her office again.

————————

I low key have no idea where this is going lol. It was a supposed to be a one shot. We’ll see what happens. Thanks for all the love on this series so far🖤