#it is long as shit. sorry except not really. at least i kept it under 30k

[missingn000]

TPG 49 IS NOW DONE.

[ierr]

╭﹐ఌ﹕Teasing You﹒〣 ﹕‹𝟹 －𝖡𝖮𝖭𝖳𝖤𝖭 𝖦𝖠𝖭𝖦

cw/tw. cussing, drugs, soft smut, choking, gun kink, smoking, weed, making out, black!reader

an. i’m a fool for Koko..thats it no its not anyways hey guys! decided to write one shots for the bonten boys 😜 hope yall enjoyyyy

𝖬𝖠𝖭𝖩𝖨𝖱𝖮 𝖲𝖠𝖭𝖮

✰ 𝖮𝗇 𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗄．

You did not like this one bit.

Your top was half way off, same with your bra strap lazily lying on your arm, your skirt slid up to the top of your thigh..you didn’t like it!— well actually that’s a lie you loved every moment of it but you didn’t like that fact someone could burst in on you two. Manjiro kissed and bit your neck, gripping onto his arm whimpering from the sudden feeling of his fangs biting at the skin of your neck. Your mind was fuzzy as the heat in the room and pleasure was getting too much for you, his knee pushed against your clothed crotch earning a flinch and a squeal leaving your throat. He grinned pulling back from your neck, now attacking your lips with his own sliding tongue in savoring your taste, you moaned into the kiss wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him closer earning a groan.

His hands on your waist glided themselves to your ass giving them a harsh squeeze, your hands started to unknowingly roam around his tinder body, gliding them from his shoulder to his chest and down to his pants loop tugging him forward, you trailed your fingertips to his bulge grouping him through his pants. He smirked before abruptly pulling back from standing inside your legs shaking his head making you furrow your eyebrows. “Why’d you..” You started with a slight whine, Manjiro shrugged looking at the mess he made outta you in satisfaction. “M’Don’t know.” He simply answered, you bit your lip feeling embarrassed, “But, I've been good this whole week. Don’t I deserve at least something?” You looked at him with a slight pout, he chuckled, walking back in between your legs grabbing your jaw with one hand pulling you close to his face, “Do you think you deserve something?” He faked pouted, teasing you, you frowned.

This wasn’t fair at all. He was teasing you and getting enjoyment out of it while you’re over here tryna get off! He’s teased you for far too long today it was starting to piss you off, at first it started with soft kisses to the cheek and pecks, then turned to kisses to your neck, then..to your lips…and then leading up to now. You really thought you were about to get dick down after getting denied for two weeks.

How pathetic.

You should’ve known he would be fuckin with you as soon as he gotten you half naked ontop of his office desk with soaked panties. You glared at him as he grinned leaning down pecking your lips, “Wipe that glare off your face,” He warned raising a brow, rolling your eyes in response looking away from him. “You’re being a bully.” You mumbled, earning a hum. “I wouldn’t have to be a bully if someone knew how to be respectful when being asked to do something.” He scowled, making you scoff, “You’re STILL on about that? Manjiro, I said I was sorry!” He shrugged his shoulders, “Oh but baby, sorry isn’t good enough for me. If you really want me to forgive you..” He paused leaning down towards your ear, “Why don’t you show how good you are for me, hm?” In an instant you nodded your head. You were so fucking desperate for relief, your fingers couldn’t even do shit for you. Your hands went straight to his belt to unbuckle it but got stopped when he grabbed your wrists gripping them. You gasped at the tightness looking up at him to see that dark and lustful glare in his dark eyes, “Oh no. We’re gonna do this a different way.”

“My way.”

𝖧𝖠𝖱𝖴𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖸𝖮 𝖲𝖠𝖭𝖹𝖴

☆ You didn’t expect Sanzu to do this in all honesty.

He had you sitting on top of his lap at the club you guys were at with the rest of the gang, except Mikey of course. At first you didn’t mind it thinking he seen some guy look at you weirdly or had googly eyes but the way he kept shifting under you bucking his hips up against your ass told you otherwise,

He was teasing you.

If you tried to tease him back you wouldn’t get a chance when you felt his gun press up against your back making you stop. Sanzu always knew about your little gun kink when he had you pinned against a wall holding it to your temple that night seeing how you weren’t afraid knowing he wouldn’t hurt you and saw that look in your eyes, the same look you give when you’re turned on. Ever since he would use that against you whenever you acted up. Feeling the coldness of the head pressed up against your exposed waist sent shivers down your back, when he pressed the gun up to your back he pulled your head back with a chuckle whispering in your ear, “Now now doll, don’t even think about it.” His harsh voice echoed leaving you to nod your head trying to keep your cool, the shit he was pulling was completely unfair.

He was teasing you infront of the group who paid no mind thank goodness making you feel many things. You weren’t really big on public sex or PDA but sometimes you were, but on the other hand..Sanzu was a big freak for public sex, doing it in the bathrooms, at house parties— you admit the thought of getting caught kinda turned you on. You huffed feeling his gun go back to wherever it came from giving you freedom to lean over to the table to roll up a blunt you had to pause on. You smiled in relief, finally finishing up your blunt, placing it between your lips, leaning towards Koko who had his lighter out and ready to light yours. Koko shakily leaned his arm out lighting your blunt, soon having that marijuana smell enter your nose. You took a big inhale leaning back against Sanzus chest releasing that built up air into the open night, you hummed feeling his tender hands massage your waist slightly groaning at the one spot that felt nicer from the rest, taking another inhale from your blunt but soon choked on it feeling his hands go to your inner thighs, close to your crotch. You turned your head slightly giving him a warning glance but he of course ignored it and grinned,

He bucked his hips up rubbing his now boner against your ass hearing a soft groan from him, you held tightly onto your blunt trying to hide your moans taking another inhale, he smirked unknowingly hearing that quiet moan from you. Sanzu started to slowly rotate his hips along your ass making you start to squirm against him, you desperately needed him to quit and fuck you already.

You couldn’t take this anymore.

Moving forward right now you didn’t care about your surroundings you needed to get off. You abruptly stood up catching a few eyes, “Y-You okay (Y/N)?” Koko said drunkly with a smile on his face, you nodded your head, “Yep! I just gotta go to the bathroom so i’ll be back.” You said in an instant walking off to the restroom having Sanzu raise a brow, he knew that look..that look when youre desperate for something. He grinned seeing you speed walk away standing up as well, “Imma go grab us some more drinks, yeah?” The drunken group all nodded their heads not paying attention to that knowing smirk on his face.

When you reached the bathroom you slammed your hands onto the sink counter, squeezing your legs together trying to get some pleasure. You thanked the heavens that the club had separated bathrooms leaving you to do your business with your fingers, you glided your fingers from your waist to the hem of your pants, before you could slide your hand into your panties a hand stopped you snapping you back into reality. You forgot to lock the door. You gasped at the harsh grip feeling his boner press up against your ass as he leaned down towards your ear, “Did i say you could fuck your self?” You groaned shaking your head hearing him chuckle with a deep echo, “If you’ve been a good little girl and jus sat there lookin all pretty takin what i gave you, i would’ve rewarded you.”

What I say? He’s unfair.

You gripped the sink counter feeling your pussy clench around nothing, “Please Haru..I couldn’t take anymore, I need you inside please.” You practically begged, backing your hips into his boner earning a groan, he snarled under his breath moving his hand to grip your throat pushing your head back against his shoulder, using his other hand to press his gun up against your crotch. Your eyes widen by the sudden shock. “Oh but i’m sure you could’ve but chose not to, and now you gotta face the consequences pretty girl.” He growled into your ear, you whimpered feeling the head of the gun press harder against your core, you felt as if you were gonna cry. You were extremely impatient and he knows this, the feeling of being horny was not fun when you’re dating the psychopath of bonten. You felt his hand loosen around your neck instead grabbing onto your shaky fingers placing them on his gun, you furrowed your eyebrows from the sudden switch till you felt him push you, bending you over the sink counter smirking.

“If you wanna get off so fuckin badly use the gun..pretend it’s my dick since a desperate little whore couldn’t wait.”

𝖱𝖠𝖭 𝖧𝖠𝖨𝖳𝖠𝖭𝖨

☆ “I don’t think doctors are supposed to be this rough with their patients, yeah?”

“Shut it before I stitch your lips together Haitani.”

He smiled teasingly in response as you continued to treat his wounds, he had came back all..fucked up, he had bruises everywhere you felt like killing the older Haitani brother yourself. There were bruises on his face, his back, his arms, stomach just everywhere! When Ran came into your room with a smile on his face you knew something was up and well…here you are.

An hour later still treating his wounds because he wants to keep moving and fuck around.

Ran was getting enjoyment out of making you mad because first you look cute whenever you get/got mad at him, second those cute threats you throw at him, and third your scolding’s, he couldn’t take any of it serious. Same goes with Rindou just by watching from afar seeing how he acts just to purposely piss you off he felt your pain, i mean he grew up with the asshole, he did nothin but mess with him. You turned around to grab more bandages, slightly bending down to grab them when you felt a harsh sting on your right ass cheek making you jolt forward, turning around in an instant seeing that smug smirk on his face, “What? It looks slappable plus it was in front of me, couldn’t help it.” Any moment now you were about to pounce on him but held back knowing he could easily pin you to the ground,

You groaned heavily walking back in between his legs continuing to work on his face, Ran watched how concentrated you were, staring at you with his gold eyes getting lost into your (E/C) ones as you worked. You were so damn cute, he slid his hands around your waist pulling you closer to him, feeling your chest onto his, you raised a brow, “Do you need something?” He shook his head rolling his eyes, “I can’t even hold my own girlfriend without you questioning things.” He huffed but smiled seeing you roll your eyes continuing to clean the cuts on his face, “I only do it cause you always pull some typa bullshit.” He smirked sliding his hands down to be placed on your ass giving them a slight squeeze seeing you jolt, “What do you mean?” You glared at him earning a laugh in return, you ignored the foolishness placing a bandage on his right cheek moving on to the last bruise that was placed by his lower lip,

But of course you got interrupted when he decided to become a real asshole by leaning his face closer to yours feeling his breath hit your lips, you looked wide eyed by how close he was, it wasn’t anything new but everytime he did this it made you flustered. You weren’t really good when he held eye contact with you for that long, along with being so close to you, he brought his hand up to be placed on your throat tilting your head up slightly placing his lips ontop of yours sliding his tongue in catching you off guard, shooting your hands to his knee gripping it. He smiled into the kiss giving your throat a harsh squeeze earning a soft moan from you. Making out with Ran always leads to something, even if you don’t want it to lead to something he always finds a way to lead you both to having sex. Kissing him always made butterflies enter your stomach, it was rough yet gentle at the same time sometimes he could get carried away with the touching. If the heat of the moment gets more heated then it is his hands start to roam every inch of your body, your ass, tits, waist even groping you through your pants!.

You felt his hand start to roam your body, he glided them from your boobs, to your stomach and finally up your skirt, you whimpered into the kiss feeling his hands brush up against your pussy feeling the fabric move along with his fingers. You gripped tighter on his knee as his fingers rubbed you, Ran pulled away from the kiss slightly biting your lip leaning his head towards your neck starting to suck on it, you bit your bottom lip trying to avoid more moans escaping you scared you would alert someone. Rans fingers continued to rub against your pussy feeling that wetness soak through your panties, he smirked into your neck before pulling back same with his fingers having an unexpected whine leave you. “Why’d you stop?” You questioned with desperation in your tone, he shrugged his shoulders, hopping off your bathroom counter towering over you with that same dirty smirk, “I don’t think my doctor is supposed to make out with their patient now, eh?” That dirty bastard, he wasn’t playing nice nor fair! You were standing there with soaked panties. You crossed your arms glaring at him, “Ran there’s no way you’re gonna leave me like this..” He chuckled, placing his hand on your throat pulling you close to him and tilting your head up to meet his gaze…that dark and lustful gaze. He leaned his head down slightly,

“Oh but i will princess, you got fingers for a reason. Now use em.”

𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖣𝖮𝖴 𝖧𝖠𝖨𝖳𝖠𝖭𝖨

☆ Let’s be honest, Rindou isn’t that much into teasing like Ran.

He’s the type to just instantly get what he wants without doing any such teasing, he wants to fuck you? He does it, he wants to eat your pussy? He does it without warning. He’s just a typical guy who gets what he wants with no question, but I would say he does tease you every now and then. When he does decide to tease you it’s to weaken you and get enjoyment out of it it was horrible..for you at least. His teasing would contain a lot of…toys. The worst toy out of all is the Vibrator..that pink of a toy shoved into your pussy with him controlling it. Basically controlling your orgasms, half the time you would forget you had it in you till you felt that shock of pleasure vibrate through you making you choke a moan. You hated it so much but if you refused you would’ve gotten the choice to get the two way which was extremely worse than the single, so without a single hesitation you snatched the pink toy silently cussing him out.

You, Ran, Him, Koko and Sanzu were all hanging out at this local bar Ran had found, it was a nice laid out bar with a lot of space inside looking like a club almost, you were sat by Ran laughing at him as him and Koko began to fight about a bet he set out, on the other side of you Rindou was staring at the back and of your head twirling with small remote he had hidden in his pocket. You felt his stare but ignored it taking a sip of your drink, before you could swallow it all you felt the toy go off directly hitting your g spot making you jolt up choking on your drink catching Ran and Kokos attention. “Woah (Y/N) you good?” Ran questioned making you nod your head not trusting your voice, Rindou smirked at you trying to keep yourself together taking a sip from his beer, he had the vibrator at a low speed but still it felt too damn good and it was perfectly hitting your g spot! You shakily grabbing onto the counter feeling an orgasm start to come, you silently squealing to yourself squeezing your legs together ready for it to happen, but right as it was about to come out you felt the vibrator turn off, you clenched your fist together groaning to yourself. He denied you for the third time tonight! You were getting sick of it,

Again and again you felt the toy shoot waves of pleasure into you, clenching around the toy from the lost of your orgasm was pissing you off, he’s denied you five times already. Luckily the group was drunk asf to even focus on you at the moment, your legs were shaky you felt as if you tried to stand up you would be denied and hit the floor. You chugged the rest of your drink glaring at your boyfriend who only grinned in response, you squeezed and moved your legs to get the toy moving so you can at least have that pleasure, Rin raised a brow turning the toy on to max speed seeing your eyes widen and hands covering your mouth having silent moans leave your mouth. Your eyes started to water slightly but quickly blinked them away focusing on the movements that were hitting your g spot, again you felt that knot in your stomach you’re about to cum, without any second you finally felt yourself cum onto the toy feeling your eyes roll back and legs squeezing. Rin turned off the toy, standing up grabbing onto you, “Me and (Y/N) are gonna go, we have meetings tomorrow,” He simply said to the drunken trio who only nodded their heads going back to their convo, he lifted you up to your feet seeing how shaky you are. He raised a brow with a grin on his face, “Rinny..i don’t think i can walk.” You whispered, he hummed in response picking you up bridal style and making his way towards his car.

-

“You’re such an asshole you know that?” You huffed pulling your pants off along with your panties taking out the vibrator to see your cum leaking around it, he shrugged his shoulders, looking at the ruined toy that leaked with your juices. “Be thankful I even let you cum on that pathetic thing.” You silently mocked him rolling your eyes, “Yeah yeah…but since that’s over i can get dick right?!”

“No.”

𝖧𝖠𝖩𝖨𝖬𝖤 𝖪𝖮𝖪𝖮𝖭𝖮𝖨

☆ You were his princess.

He loved spoiling the fuck out of you, buying you clothes, shoes, purses, getting your nails done and especially giving you dick. But he also loved teasing the hell out of you, loved the way your nose scrunched in pleasure when he rubs his boner on your clothed pussy, loved how you begged for him..he just loved it all! His favorite is having you sat all pretty and dressed up on his lap counting his money for the day, he would do it but honestly he likes it when you do it so he could have you sitting on top of his dick like this. Every now and then he would try to distract you by placing his hands on your waist or having them rest on your tits, it was most definitely working! But you got a good memory which is helping you out,

Koko laid his head on your shoulder as he watched you count the third stack, slightly rotating his hips along your ass grinning hearing a soft groan in return. “Would you stop it? You’re making my job harder than it is.” You scowled as he chuckled, “That’s my job princess, now continue being a pretty little thing and count.” You rolled your eyes huffing as you continued counting his stack, sometimes you wish you could smack that smirk off his face by doing your own teasing but if you even tried it you would’ve gotten denied instantly. Koko saw how you were almost done with the third stack moving onto the last one, he leaned his head to peck your shoulder blade feeling his soft kisses being pecked on you.

You smiled to yourself at the soft action leaning into his touch but soon moaned softly feeling his hands travel down to your inner thigh close to your crotch squeezing it. You almost forgot what number you were on before instantly remembering forcing yourself to continue, you were almost done there was no way you were gonna forget what number you’re on….untill you felt his legs spread a little wider directly coming into contact with his boner. It rubbed perfectly against your ass as he started to move your hips back and forth, “Shit princess..” He groaned making you bite your lip trying to get this done, you were so close you only had a few more to count. As soon as you counted the finally bill, you huffed in relief turning yourself around on his lap instantly slamming your lips onto his, he grinned kissing you back as one hand was on your ass moving you against his hard grinding on it as the other was placed on your mid back making you arch, you breathed heavily pulling away attacking his neck with love marks as he leaned back letting you do whatever. Chuckling breathlessly, going towards your ear.

“M’finna ruin you.”

[marsosims]

Hello! I've been super busy finishing up requirements for school... Today's the last day for the submission of requirements and I've been rushing to do them and submit on time, but I've been struck with a bout of procrastination, and I thought I'd participate in simblr appreciation day!

(under the cut because it's surprisingly long [that's what she said...])

I don't really have any particular people in mind but that's mostly because I cannot remember every single person and I would feel bad about forgetting anybody,,, ANYWAY! here's some appreciation to:

The people who make CC and mods - y'all make this game bearable and I genuinely cannot live without them so I am very much thankful to all of u ily all (except the permawallers)

The people who make those CC and mods POSSIBLE - the people over at s4s and all the other tools like s4castools, as well as the tutorials they've made over the years have been INVALUABLE to the community and I just wanted to recognize them and say thank you <3

The people who reblog CC and mods - I feel as a creator, I've always been very appreciative of people who reblog my content because it genuinely helps me out to have my content spread to a wider audience. On the flipside, as a consumer, I'm also very appreciative of these people because I LOVEE discovering new creators that I've never known before who make literally the best items out there and AAA i'm just so happy

The people who download and play with said CC and mods and create the most beautiful sims, stories, and builds with them - as a creator, I honestly feel very giddy whenever I see people use my cc or even my mods. I know I don't generally reblog (because I usually forget) but I genuinely appreciate all of you! Thank you so much! All of the sims and builds I've seen with my CC have been incredible and have been truly inspiring <3 The stories and edits that I see on my dashboard (or when I stalk people on my activity dashboard IM SORRY) are honestly amazing and I LOVE to see it!

Of course, the people who play vanilla! - whatever type of gameplay you make, whether it's vanilla or with a shit ton of CC and mods, I love to see it! It's so refreshing to see how differently people use the same game to create such a diverse community! Vanila players, however, I have SOO much respect for. You guys are the strongest soldiers out there. I am weak to the temptation of custom content. Always have been.

The people who made this a thing! - this has honestly been one of the best things I've seen on simblr in a while, all the negativity and drama have made me a little less keen on being here a few months ago, but I've slowly come back and I'm genuinely so happy to see something like this happen :D

My patrons - honestly couldn't really end this appreciation post without saying a thank you to my patrons. Seriously, thank you :D You don't know how much your donations mean to me and my getting through college. The extra funds from your donations have allowed me to be generally independent in terms of funding myself and my activities. Seriously.

Anyway, this has been a super long post and I'm actually kind of embarrassed to post it because it feels like a long diary because I've been rambling about stupid stuff that I should have probably kept to myself but uhh yeah!!!!

Hope you guys have a happy holiday season!!! Expect more things from me, at least until the end of this year! I've been working on some stuff! Probably not exciting, but it's stuff!

[homeless202]

I’m new here and I absolutely love your type of blogs with analysis and meta and long texts~~

I was wondering—is Eunyung and Haejoon’s relationship the kind that could be interpreted as romantic?

first of all, welcome and ty! and sorry it took me so long to reply, i hope u're still around anon. now to answer ur question

i'll take this opportunity to share all my thoughts on the topic bc i have Many.

TLDR: it is possible to read it as romantic if you really want to, but it's not meant to (at least not as of right now in the story aka ch.224)

deep dive under the cut as to why

-> can Eunyung and Haejoon’s relationship be interpreted as romantic?

i like how you phrased that bc, the thing is, interpretation is very subjective. you're welcome and allowed to interpret things however you want, but in EY&HJ's case, i feel like you'd have to work a lil extra hard to get to that point.

-> is Eunyung and Haejoon’s relationship meant to be interpreted as romantic?

this one's easy bc no. objectively Not. the genre of No Home is drama and slice of life (and once upon a time, horror). even if they were to ever end up in a romantic relationship, that's not what the story is about.

when i ask myself what the author's intention is with this story, i'd say it's to (realistically) portray how a young person with trauma would navigate another young person's trauma. and showing how easy it is to unintentionally fuck it up for various reasons: lacking context as to what exactly said trauma is, generally not knowing how to navigate it, their own trauma getting in the way, lacking the necessary resources. take your pick.

think of it like "how should i carry someone else's baggage when i have my own to deal with?" while also keeping in mind they're kids; they often don't have enough experience to know how to help, and even when they know what the right thing to do is, they're not old enough to take (legal) action.

and especially, the most heart-breaking yet realistic thing, when you're just getting to know someone, you can't know everything about them. it's so easy to accidentally do or say sth that cuts or offends when it wasn't meant to. but when they've got their own issues, it's hard not to take it personally (eg. EY talking about HJ's parents without knowing his mom died not long ago in the beginning of the story).

-> what even is Eunyung and Haejoon’s relationship??

this one's so funny bc i have no idea how to answer and i'm convinced not even EY and HJ themselves would know how to answer. they're not really friends; they got off on the wrong foot and kept walking with two left feet way too much to call themselves friends. the things that pushed them together the most were the dorms (not anymore) and the same friend group (more or less since EY has multiple).

what fits them best i'd say is "the universe forced us together against our will and now we're stuck with one another altho we hate each other" (<- at least in the beginning) extended with the "misery loves company" sentiment. finding comfort in someone who gets it, even tho they only kinda get it but not really but it works out anyway except it doesn't <- THERE'S NO NAME FOR THAT *cry* they invented a new type of character dynamic smh (i've never read a pairing with so much (romantic) potential only to see them completely fuck up their chance so royally by the end of their interaction EVERY SINGLE TIME. like yeah, enemies to lovers whatever BUT NOT TO THAT LEVEL HOLY SHIT)

they've changed each other, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worse. they're compatible in the way they understand each other on a deeper level and incompatible in the way they don't.

...however...

this is how HJ thinks of EY: (and also what No Home is truly abt)

and this is how EY feels about HJ after EY found out HJ used to steal as well (aka that HJ isn't perfect like the stuck up bitch EY thought he was at first):

so...

<- -> EY's first impression of HJ was that he was looking down on him and sth like "does this guy have ulterior motives? or is he just that naive being so trusting?" until EY found out HJ wasn't that different from him. after that, EY started admiring HJ for still managing to achieve things in life despite the hardships he had to go through. the type of admiration that can easily (and sometimes does) slip into envy.

-

since the beginning, EY has helped HJ (or at least tried to) without him knowing. sometimes it worked out, sometimes not. most times EY tried doing sth nice for HJ was (from EY's perspective) in return to HJ trying to help him or doing nice things for him (which, again, sometimes worked out, sometimes not). EY was just paying back a debt to "this stubborn naive guy who keeps getting into trouble and butting into his business. gotta look out for this idiot or he might get scammed." (<- eg. when EY offered to get HJ's money back from his uncle)

he doesn't do it for credit or friendship or out of obligation, he's just doing what he thinks is the right thing bc he doesn't want to owe anyone anything. he can't accept people just genuinely being kind, genuinely caring and genuinely wanting to help. but he's been learning and slowly coming to terms with it.

-

<- -> HJ first wanted to try befriending EY despite not liking him bc, well, the guy did steal his wallet and stab him in their first interaction. after trying and failing at it multiple times, thanksgiving happened, and HJ started thinking of EY as his underclassman bc he realized EY's just a kid with issues and he should keep an eye on him (discretely bc EY hates pity).

-

with time HJ has come to understand EY better by going after him whenever he ran off and slowly realized that EY does mean well and has his reasons (as fucked up as they might be sometimes). but his mentality abt EY is still "i gotta push him in the right direction cuz he's my underclassman and i unintentionally got attached to him (somehow??)" (also bc he knows EY already gave up on himself so he needs a lil help to find his way again. also also bc he knows EY is lowkey suicidal and he's scared it'll be his fault if sth happens) <- his care for EY comes from a protective/nurturing (/possibly maybe guilty) place which started when he realized EY was just a kid^^. in other words, HJ still bothers with EY out of a subconscious sense of responsibility/obligation in a way (a good way tho. or at least a way that gets better)

see, sth i struggle with is if HJ thinks he has to or wants to or thinks he should or can't just not help/care for EY. i can't exactly pinpoint where the sentiment is coming from. his face is too blank for me to read sometimes T_T

-

to summarize: HJ is EY's goal, what EY wishes he could've been. and EY is HJ's 'responsibility' so to speak (bc 'burden' doesn't quite fit since HJ is there for EY willingly) -> EY has a positive opinion of HJ while HJ has a neutral opinion of EY (which is also gradually getting better)

note1: i think HJ's intention (maybe subconsciously) was to be to EY what HJ's upperclassman was to him. aka someone who's there when you need it and can help guide you. it would explain why HJ kept chasing after EY despite not really having a reason to and EY repeatedly rejecting HJ's care/help.

note2: i also believe the 'upper-under-classman' relationship dynamic fits them the best atm bc it also matches the way the story often singles EY out as he's the only second year (aka younger) of the 6 MCs.

-> Romance in No Home?

another thing i should mention is that No Home rarely leaves things open for interpretation. the deepest arguments EY&HJ had were always spelled out for us, to make us understand exactly what the problem was, and how there isn't a good guy and a bad guy. it's just two people with issuesTM.

from what we've seen in the story up to this point, i couldn't pick out a moment where i'd go "here! that's romantic! that's the moment they realized SomeThing!" yk

when it comes to romance specifically, i feel like a handful of opportunities were missed. there are scenes which could've easily been written trough a rosy lens but simply weren't.

exhibit A:

HJ was speechless bc "wow this mf really is actively picking a fight with an authority figure. i gotta make sure things don't escalate" not bc "hoLY sHiT hE's PreTTy. all his fangirls are on to something". however, this only becomes more clear when you keep reading the next few chapters, so i understand how you could interpret it as the latter.

exhibit B:

here they got so close and the moment was so deep bc "woaa he said he believes me. no one's said to me that before!". unfortunately, EY was panicking too much for it to mean something bc of the guilt he felt for HJ trusting someone so undeserving of trust like EY.

exhibit C:

this is maybe the closest we got to romantic between these two. i think this might be the only (or at least first) ever deep interaction between them that didn't end in a fight or misunderstanding. is it meant to be romantic tho? -> ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

-> what do i think?

first, full transparency: i went into reading this story fully expecting it to be a BL and for EY&HJ to end up together. but the more i kept on reading, the more i got the ick thinking about them being in a (romantic) relationship bc, at least from what we've seen so far in the story, their relationship would be so ToxicTM (which i personally don't enjoy reading).

as they are right now, i wouldn't want them to be together like that. like, honestly, you still can't really consider these two even friends; they just tolerate each other if the stars align correctly (altho, i'll admit, their relationship is gradually getting better!!). every big argument they had i thought "god, there's no coming back from that. i'd cut ties so quickly if was them wtf". i still don't know how they managed to keep on interacting, props to them ig.

there's a lot of unresolved issues between them. and a lot of resentment which would not bode well in a romantic relationship. the smallest argument would turn explosive and they'd be, at best, in an on&off type of relationship. they both have the power to break the other and neither would be afraid to use it. they have a lot of history together, which is not always pleasant, so if they ever were to go the romantic route, it would have to be a long way to go.

technically, i could see them in a romantic relationship if they both went to therapy first and talked out all the baggage they're carrying (both individual and shared). realistically tho, what i think will happen at the end of No Home is that either they never cross paths again after high school ends (which would absolutely break my heart Wanan pls don't), or they somehow (unintentionally) end up living together bc they both desperately needed a roommate to pay rent (which would be a hilarious fucking gag LMAO). just, HJ going to uni/work and EY doing his own thing (prolly an actor) while still cohabiting together; hanging out to watch a movie before bed <- (whether platonic or romantic being left up for interpretation)

<- -> in conclusion, from what we've seen up to this point, their relationship is mainly upper-under-classman; reluctant (maybe) friends who tolerate each other but also care (too) deeply. they've changed each other, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worse. in some ways they're compatible and in others they're not.

all this being said, their relationship is improving and romance between EY&HJ is not impossible, just rather unlikely imo. but, again, interpretation is subjective and u're welcome to read their relationship however you want.

[spatio-rift]

was there a theme that stuck out for each member of ichibans partys storylines in rgg8.... i remember really liking that almost everyone in 7 had something going on with a sibling or sibling-like figure (major ones were ichiban and masato of course, nanba and his brother, and saeko and nanoha, but there was also zhao and mabuchi and han joongi(7) and han joongi(6)).... honestly by the time the person i was watching got to play the drink links i was already so annoyed that the game had become all about kiryu that i stopped really paying attention. more thoughts under the cut spoilers obviously

my main gripe with it really was that at some point ichiban completely felt like a minor character in his own game lol. my main concern when i first heard about kiryu coming back in this game was that it would be like dual protags so when kiryu first joined ichibans party i was so relieved. and then he went back to japan and the party was completely split in half (which i hated) and all of the plot revolved around kiryu. or at least thats how it felt to me watching it.

in the first place i genuinely dont understand why ichiban faced bryce, even though it was kiryu who kept seeing haruka in lani and as such wanted to save her from bryce no matter what, and why kiryu faced ebina, even though his grudge against the yakuza comes from a grudge against arakawa masumi specifically, and he goes on a fucking monologue to kiryu about himself and ichiban, arakawa masumis two sons, one who idolizes him and one who hates him, etc. it felt like such bullshit to me that kiryu got to have the emotional end fight just so hed have his "im sorry 😭😭😭 its all my fault😭😭😭 i shouldnt have run away when i was the 4th chairman😭😭😭" it was sooo weak to me it just felt like the entire thing was just an excuse to arrive at an endpoint where kiryu decides he wants to live.

it was so annoying too that the game felt somewhat self aware like when it spent a little too much time on kiryu he would always be saying some shit like "ichiban is the future" "ichiban is the only one who can save us" but in the end ichiban felt like a grunt who just did as kiryu told him to

(long calming sigh) i should think of some positive things to say. like in 7 i did really like the conversations the party had w each other i feel like its the main strength of the ichiban games in general. and im glad akane turned out to be a normal woman i was worried shed be exceptional cuz then i would have been so over it. the new allies were great i loved chitose tomi and yamai.

i loved the giant shark and the giant squid i wish they showed up earlier when i wasnt forcing myself to continue watching even though i wasnt enjoying myself at all. i didnt care for any of the villains but dwight especially was a really odd case because they first humiliate him and then i gotta take him seriously? nuh uh even at the very end he was always pee boy to me. and whyd they bring back sawashiro for... nothing much really? i lowkey wish they had left the whole thing alone it was great as it was in 7. though the dramatic reveal that masato didnt trust sawashiro was funny asf to me.

all in all would i call the time i spent watching it a waste of time? not really because i was playing an idle farming game while i was watching it and i made a lot of progress. but other than that well. its not like my life is better having watched it

[goodshipskypirate]

Oh, man, and like when Erlina and Brugaves were training as kids, there were at least twenty Solstice Warriors. Like these chosen folks are NOT a generational thing where only a pair comprised of one moon and one sun kid was born, potentially necessitating and emphasizing their roles as sole saviors. No, they were a group of warriors destined to keep their world safe.

Meaning Erlina and Brugaves absolutely can and should have been given a choice to back away and live normal lives. They are not the last two Solstice Warriors left at the start of the story, there were two dozens prior to the Dweller of Strife wiping them out. And yes, it was very dire when a Dweller took down so many Solstice Warriors that did justify Moraine's trauma to keep the only remaining chosen ones under his wings, but the flashback seem to imply what Moraine went through was an exception. Was there no other Solstice Warriors who questioned this? Was there no one who wondered who their parents were?

And even if it wasn't, this was a system that's been going on for a while, meaning there had to have had multiple Solstice Warriors over the past. Like, by the time Erlina and Brugaves were around, there already was an academy, meaning this school has existed long enough to train god knows how many and for how long. And there's no sign that these warriors are going extinct anytime soon. A lot were wiped out, but the cycle has not stopped. You can't tell me this is the first time shit like this happened. Ain't no one considered that maybe some Solstice Warriors wanted to back off, especially if there were plenty of back ups?

By placing burden on these young souls when the system had countless others prior to the Dweller of Strife (and Erlina had felt reluctance even before the massacre), you've doomed them to a fate because they did not get any voice in the matter. Not a single one thought to ask these two if they truly wanted this, instead just assumed they did. Maybe if they considered their feelings, Erlina and Brugaves would have never done what they did.

I'm sorry, I can't let this go. This is a fucked up system and I'm annoyed the game is saying that, yes, it's fucked, but if you fight against it, then you're no better than the villains.

I'm aware Sea of Stars is strictly a Good vs. Evil kinda story and that's fine, but you're introducing an extremely justifiable backstory into Erlina and Brugaves and we're just suppose to accept that they are Bad for feeling this way.

Maybe the game will surprise me and will address this (it does show Moraine giving up and retiring, showing someone sympathetically as he abandoned the system, and he is guilty for what he did, so there's that), but it's also got another issue I have with Garl (which I'll write up later) that I'm not sure they're gonna confront either.

I like that Sea of Star has kept a relatively light plot; I like the breeziness of it's old-school adventure plot, but that assumes the story abides by its textbook. And the Solstice cycle really does not. It's fucked up and it bothers me that it's portrayed as this greater good and any dissent from that is Wrong.

Oh...

Well, that answers who the Great Eagle is.

Jesus Christ, Resh 'an, you really do have your claws everywhere, sir.

[vaguely-concerned]

I binged through all of Dragon Age: Absolution today and honestly I really really liked it! I was allowing myself only some very cautious optimism after watching the twitch premiere of the first episode, but freed from the need for infodumps and setting up the characters the rest of the show actually rapidly gets better from there (some pacing issues here and there excepted but hey they were given 6 episodes, I think they did pretty well considering those constraints)! If like me you HUNGER for, you YEARN for, you CRAVE more Dragon Age right the fuck now, this is not at all a bad thing to help keep some of that hunger down while we wait for the next game, and has a few loveable new characters to get into and some great action animation to boot.

More idle thoughts/reactions under the cut!

first and foremost I love Roland and Lacklon so much haha, a surprisingly well paced romance considering it mainly happens in quick background-ish moments! I'm especially interested in Roland's backstory, since he's very chill and openminded for what seems to be a decently well-trained/educated Orlesian? Lacklon being like 'I want to hold his hand and suck his dick 😔 fml' every time Roland did something cool in battle was just *chef's kiss* too, it was kind of smart to have their fight scenes double as foreplay as well on a writing level since they're arguably the least plot-important characters overall (though they and Qwydion are definitely the heart of the story as far as I'm concerned)

I understand why Miriam clung to Hira so much since she just lost literally everything in her life, good or bad, moments before and that relationship was the only time she had tasted anything like real love since her brother died, but girl... girl when people show you who they are, believe them. marry Qwydion instead you deserve so much better (Hira gave me the Bad Vibes right away from how she didn't respect anything Miriam said or expressed and kept pushing in ways that made me really uncomfortable, so I won't say I was shocked or anything lol.) There is the (??deliberate??) mirror of Hira hugging Miriam from behind in the blood magic dream and Qwydion coming up behind her in very much the same way to rest her hand on her shoulder in the real world afterwards, so I have hope maybe?

can you imagine Dorian watching shitshows like this go down every other week all around Tevinter and tearing at his perfectly sculpted hair because Andraste's tits if you motherfuckers would stop acting stereotypically for FIVE MINUTES! could any of you go take a PISS without resorting to blood magic! Dorian's job is a shit job and he's probably been doing it for a while by the time of Dreadwolf so y'know. get my son a drink

speaking of Qwydion, I am so glad for further support for my theory that vashoth born away from the Qun are actually some of the most well-adjusted people in all of Thedas. they've dodged the Qun from birth by definition, they don't seem terribly interested in the Chantry or grand politics of any kind, they don't have a caste system hanging over them, they can step on anyone who tries to mess with them even if they don't have magic... truly the only sane people running around out here

so you're telling me the Inquisition screws Fairbanks over no matter what you do, b/c either he dies or he's forced into Orlesian politics. Oh buddy I'm sorry we should've just let you frolic around in the Emerald Graves on your own you didn't deserve this

Poor Tessa. she is probably better off without him in the long run but that's a rough week

I was so excited to see Kirkwall again, I saw the horrific chain statues and went 'OH HELLHOLE MORE LIKE HELLHOME'. it's so grim and awful I miss it so much lol

meredith, huh. so uh. hawke really has failed at everything, pretty much, then. even the few people they did manage to kill to protect everyone didn't stay dead. I'm just waiting for the dragon they killed in the Bone Pit to come back and ravage the city as well now, just to top it off. celestial punching bag of thedas hawke. babyyyyyyyyy if it helps I still love you the most and so does your collection of bi weirdos found family

rezaren wasn't even that good a mage, as far as we can tell, so you have to wonder what the FUCK dorian's ancestor was pulling to have created this thing that he could barely control with half a dragon's worth of blood (and what someone like Dorian, who helped crack time like an egg in his student days sort of just to see if he could, it seems, could do with it if they didn't have like scruples or other pesky things like that. everything we see about tevinter magisters makes me more impressed with how comparatively not fundamentally shitty Dorian has managed to turn out (no wonder Bull is kind of impressed with him for having actual integrity, if this is the competition he's up against). can you tell I miss him lol)

I found it genuniely interesting how much rezaren and hira are thematic mirrors to each other and mutually cannot see it, right down to treating miriam ultimately as an object. same self-centered idiot, different hairstyles. what a scathing indictment of Tevinter high society that even Hira, who's family was notoriously progressive and trying to enact change, still treats people exactly the same way as the other magisters when push comes to shove.

thank u to Lacklon for pessimistic cynical bastard representation, he is right that that dragon is going to ravage the countryside and someone on the crew has to keep clear eyes for that sort of thing even when it's a downer

[scaramoon]

he accidentally hurts you while sparring

DILUC, KAEYA, XIAO, CHILDE — gn!reader

warnings/genre: kinda hurt/comfort? idk it’s mostly fluffy, mentions of blood and (very) minor injuries, swearing in childe’s

notes: rbs are v much appreciated, please and ty !! also pls ignore that i got carried away w xiao’s </3

━━ diluc;

you’ll have to be insistent if you even want him to spar with you; he knows you’re fully capable of standing your ground but... he’s worried

he’ll act like he doesn’t, but it’s obvious that he keeps close by whenever you’re sparring with someone

but if you wear him down enough or you’re good with your words, you can convince him to be your sparring partner

lmao just tell him you’ll get kaeya to do it 💀

“don’t- don’t hold your sword like that.” he said, his tone was flat but you’d known him long enough to be able to find the concern in it.

“i know how to hold a sword, diluc,” you responded. “i asked for a partner, not a teacher, remember?”

red eyes flashed towards you and something like a smile appeared on your lover’s lips. you mirrored it, letting your lips curl into a grin.

“of course,” he said, smallest hint of a playful tone in his voice.

but he was quick, and you may have underestimated just how well trained he was. normally, you could have blocked him. this time, however, you weren’t expecting it and you’d already began to drop your dominant hand to your side.

he noticed that, but he was just a little too late. diluc was used to the momentum of his weapon, but it wasn’t often that he had to stop it. he tried to step back before he hurt you, your name falling from his lips, desperation and worry coating his voice.

and then, just as soon as he’s processed it, his claymore was on the ground and he was watching you crouch and hold your upper arm. your seethe of pain sent guilt rushing through him.

it took him a moment to decide whether or not to go over to you; he wanted to, he really wanted to, but a part of him feared that you didn’t want him near you.

he couldn’t help it though.

“y/n?” diluc’s tone was almost a command, loud but desperate, wanting you to look at him and tell him that you were perfectly fine — wanting that to be the truth.

tears pricked in the corners of your eyes but you looked at him nonetheless. he hated that look in your eyes. seeing you in pain was one thing, but the knowledge that he was the cause of it twisted his heart in unbearable ways.

“i’m ok, diluc,” you said, quieter than you normally would. “just a little scratch, see?”

you moved your hand from where it was holding onto your arm. blood coated your fingers and the clothing surrounding the new wound, but it was clear that the cut wasn’t deep.

he didn’t say anything. his lips were pressed into a thin line as he kneeled beside you. eyebrows pinned in worry and concentration evident in his eyes, he started ripping at your sleeve to get a better look.

“diluc.” you said. your voice was more commanding this time as you moved away from him. why couldn’t he see it really wasn’t so bad?

“i didn’t mean to hurt you.” this time you could see clearly just how distressed he was.

he looked like he was about to cry and he wasn’t the one that’d been hurt. not physically, anyway; you had no idea how his chest hurt, how he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

you stared at him for a little longer. “i said i’m fine. but if it will help you sleep at night, you can come help me clean it, deal?”

“of course, dove.”

━━ kaeya;

he actually likes sparring with you

he doesn’t often get the chance, but whenever both of you are able to, he sees it as time he gets to spend with you

and any time spent with you is never time wasted in his eyes

plus he gets to do the sword under your chin thing and tease you </3

“dead.” you said proudly, standing over your lover, your sword under his chin.

a playful grin spread across his lips as he let you enjoy your win. you backed away and allowed him to stand up, dust himself off. a stretch of his arms, and then he was picking up his sword to go again.

“ready?” kaeya asked, smirk stretching his lips.

“yeah,” you said, smiling back. your gloved hand tightened around your sword’s hilt; the gloves were making your hands sweaty, your grip loosening. “actually, w-”

“y/n!”

the next thing you realized was a stinging at you side. your hand immediately came to the cut, taking an instinctive step back. the sound of kaeya’s sword hitting the ground met your ears, his hands were on your arms a second later.

“hey, hey, you’re okay.” he tried to sound calm but if was a bad attempt. he crouched down onto the ground, guiding you to sit in front of him. cautious hands grabbed the hem of your shirt, kaeya looking up at you. “can I look, love?”

“yeah, but I’m fine.” you said, though your face was twisted in pain.

his eyes were full of pity when he looked at you, jaw clenching before he lifted your shirt enough to see the wound. on first appearance, it looked worse than it really was.

“see?” you spoke again. “all good.”

he didn’t say anything at first. he just pulled you closer to him, chin hooked over your shoulder, though he was careful not to agitate your cut.

“not really. but it’s okay, we’re gonna get you all better, yeah?”

“kaeya, seriously, i’m fine. you don’t need-”

“y/n.” his voice was still sweet and concerned, but more stern when he spoke this time. “let me take care of you.”

“...fine.”

━━ xiao;

good luck getting him to spar with you in the first place

it doesn’t matter how much you tell him you want to, he’ll keep turning you down

needless to say, you’ll have to play your cards right to get him to agree to it

“what if i hurt you, y/n?”

“i’ll be under-trained and get hurt if you don’t help me.”

“you know i’ll always be there if you call for me.”

“and if you can’t come?”

“...”

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” he stated simply, eyes narrowing at you. you only threw him a smile.

“what’s the worst that can happen? you won’t even use your real pole arm, you have a stick. you can’t stab me with it, xiao.”

“I would rather not think about ‘stabbing’ you in the first place.” he huffed. “but... you need to be safe, in case one day I can’t keep you safe myself.”

a smile crossed your face as you gripped your weapon, ready for him to start.

you may have miscalculated the power and ability of an adeptus though. you quickly found yourself tired and overwhelmed, just blocking and dodging was almost too much. he could sense your fatigue already, and he was listening for you to call him to stop. xiao was ready to stop on a dime, but he knew that you were stubborn and insistent.

his “pole arm” came close to your side, and he really thought you would dodge this one. you’d done it before. but he felt the wood hit you, you falling to the ground, holding your side soon after.

his make-shift weapon was long forgotten now. he was kneeling beside you in seconds, gentle fingers running along what he was sure was a broken rib. he didn’t find one, but the guilt was already eating him and that knowledge did nothing to stop it.

“ow! that hurts, don’t touch me.” you said, seething in pain and making a pitiful attempt to move away from him.

xiao did not cry.

he didn’t, it just wasn’t something he was accustomed to, and quite honestly he wasn’t sure if adepti could cry. but the idea of you being scared of him started tears to fill his eyes; his chest was tight, and he had this uncomfortable lump in his throat.

“no, no,” you started, propping yourself on your elbows and then sitting all the way up.

you tried to reach and hold his face, to wipe the tears off, but he turned away from you; he kept kneeling, but shifted to a position a little farther away from you. the adeptus made a noise something like a squeak, and it seemed to surprise him. he didn’t wait for you to finish talking, he turned away and looked anywhere except you.

“xiao, baby, that’s not what I meant. you can- I just meant don’t put your hands directly where I got hurt... xiao? can you look at me?”

it took him a few more moments before he turned his head back to you. you knew he wasn’t always the most emotional, but you didn’t think you’d seen him like this before. he hummed, not trusting his voice. still, he wouldn’t look you in the eyes.

“I’m fine, you didn’t hurt me. its just a little bruise, there’s not even blood... I’m not scared of you, xiao, it’s not your fault.”

he stared at you for another moment before he cleared his throat and stood up. “can we at least have someone make sure you’re okay?”

“yeah.”

“...and you won’t ask me to do that again?”

“of course not.”

━━ childe;

he has mixed feelings about sparring with you

of course, it’s an odd form of quality time, but he likes it

plus that means he won’t have to watch you spar with anyone else

but there’s always the risk that you could get hurt

he’s an archer though, so he only “attacks” you with his melee — he thought he was being a lot more careful

“ready?” childe smiled, twirling one of his weapons around his finger.

“as always.” you said, gripping your own weapon.

“mhm, sweetheart, I’m sure you’re ‘always ready’,” childe said dropped his hands to his sides and stepping closer to you.

you knew what he was trying to do — he attempted to pull this off every time you sparred with him, and you never failed to catch him. seem relaxed, and whenever you thought he wouldn’t, he’d attempt to get the better of you.

this time, however, you were not as quick as you usually were. childe knew that you always saw through this; not once had you’d failed to block him, so maybe he put his trust in his weapons more than he should have.

he stopped when both of you look at the clean, but bloody, cut he’d made. his eyes widened as it sinked in, coming to the realization that he’d hurt you

“y/n- shit, I’m sorry,” he said, panic clear in his voice, though he tried to hide it. his hand was on your shoulder, guiding you to sit on the ground. “are you- you’re okay, it’s not that deep. we’re gonna get that healed and you’ll be fine, yeah?”

for words so reassuring, his panicked tone was saying something along the lines of ‘shit shit fuck dammit, i accidentally hurt my own partner, what the fuck-’

“yeah, it’s no biggie,” you said, smiling a little at him. “it’s just a little cut, I get worse on commissions.”

you knew that later he would claim he was totally calm. in reality, he was trying his best to clean the wound with his vision, and he’d get better help whenever he could get to bubu pharmacy.

“you owe me kisses though, y’know,” you teased.

‘good,’ he thought. ‘they aren’t mad at me.’

“whatever ya want, love.”

“oh? maybe I’ll take cuddles too.”

[knowlesian]

hey! sorry to bug you but that last post has my brain buzzing in my skull—do you think ed knows that izzy is oblivious to his aversion to killing people? 👁‍🗨 i’ve been operating under the assumption that while izzy hasn’t put it together, the threat lands because ed thinks he has and i’m SO curious about your thoughts on that entire interaction honestly

you're not bothering me at all! in fact, consider this a gold star super mario music moment because this ask actually unlocks some ed shit i have been dying to talk about but just hadn't gotten around to/had an excuse to throw together yet.

because i think ed knows izzy has no idea, and the toe thing is like... ooooh baby. okay, let me tackle this in two parts.

one: why i think ed knows izzy doesn't know.

i wouldn't say that ed had this plan in mind from day one of starting to build his pirate resume, but i do think he's a smart guy with social intelligence for fuckin' miles.

(the party in e5 is a notable exception that i think proves the rule: i'll get back to it later, though.)

so: ed would have needed to learn fast to protect himself in a million ways, including learning how to kill somebody but make sure they die a few steps/minutes later, when he's on homebase and it doesn't count or whatever. i'm sure he would have made the obvious leap that the scarier you are and the more you enjoy a good maim in public, the less anybody wants to fuck around lest they find out. and with fewer people who want to mess with him, there will be fewer people he has to incapacitate but not immediately kill.

the legend of blackbeard covers strangers' assumptions; but even when it comes to those around him, people also don't assume that somebody who models outsized instances of violence like we're told (and shown) ed employs are covering for a sad backstory and a lack of desire to kill people driven by trauma and self-hate.

they go oh FUCK, there is no doubt in my mind, that guy super kills people. (admiring/horrified, as applicable.)

(caveat: my outside chance thought here remains if anybody put those pieces together and kept ed's secret anyway without ever letting ed know he knew it'd be fang.)

so ed is definitely aware that a level of performed violence in public is going to buffer him from anybody looking crosswise. i think he's also been pissed off over the years and enjoyed the lashing out— or at least, the momentary release it gave him— more than he does now when he was younger, but i'd lay down money one of many reasons ed builds the legend of blackbeard so well is to cover for himself and make it so he never finds himself in a place where the issue is forced and he has to directly kill again.

(this is why i don't think he really intends to kill stede. i think at first he's just bullshitting and assuming he can just put izzy off long enough to sell him on something else because that's how it goes with them, and it's what he knows will get izzy off his back about stede/get him to stick around in the moment; and even when he's talking himself up to it in e6 after izzy does not let this one go, i don't think there's a world where ed goes through with that murder.)

i think ed also knows izzy well enough to know that if that lil gremlin ever figured out ed doesn't kill, he would process it as 'can't' kill. and men who can't kill are not Real Men, in izzy's sad violent little worldview. ed's choices would be a deficiency and weakness in his eyes as well as a failure of masculinity, and we have been shown over and over what izzy thinks of anybody who checks the fucked up weak/gay as in girly boxes he is so very sure are real and matter.

also: we are really not given an indication izzy is a guy who keeps a secret terribly well— or his thoughts to himself for long. like... kind of ever. if izzy knew ed is failing at a very basic standard of izzy's How To Be A Man Good And Hurt People Lots Until They Are Dead, i have to imagine it would come up. loudly, and often.

which brings me to 'then why the toe????'

okay, so. couple facts to lay down here, provided by canon or by extrapolation.

one: ed can read izzy and knows how to say or give him what he wants.

two: e9 establishes the toe routine is an old bit for ed, and it stands to reason izzy has either seen it done or heard about it.

three: izzy gets off on ed going all diy toe first communion. he gets off on it long, and he gets off on it HARD.

(ew. ohhhh this man. oh this weird sad gross man. TO THE PICKLE JAR, SIR, TO THE MOTHERFUCKIN PICKLE JAR WITH THEE.)

all of this says to me: ed knew that izzy would respond positively to getting his toe cut off, and that's why he did it despite telling us an episode before via how he talks about doing it in the past that he never actually liked it as much as it might have appeared. ("poor bloke", etc.)

whether it's because izzy saw it happen and got all omg. omg. weird violence that gets subtextually gay and tender at the end??? well sign my unhealthy expressions of masochism 'r us tiny ass UP and ed clocked it back then, or ed just knows him well enough to know that izzy's response to the Weird Vore would be 'unlike you sheeple, i see that this is a sign of love. my boyfriend is back and wanted to show me he understands now that there are no other ways or people we can be, this is FINE, EVERYTHING IS COOL AND GOOD AGAIN!' i would lay down money the toe was not so much ed being afraid of izzy, as ed knowing what izzy would consider a reward for reality check services rendered.

and i know that sounds... how it fuckin sounds, but we gotta adjust for values of the weird little fucker in question. izzy has his intricate rituals and catholic masochism shit constantly bumper-car'ing around his head like yes. good. love is suffering is violence is love is toes is love is I NEED THERAPY.

so for him, the toe is both reassurance edward is home to stay and evidence he can relax and stop riding ed's ass all the time, and that's even before it's a sex thing.

this gets ed: an izzy who is back in line and not as suspicious, which gives ed space to do things like cry alone or like. act how he wants, for five whole minutes.

so i think the toe was a calculated choice, designed to play on what izzy wants and expects in order to give ed some cover again.

and now, sort of tacked awkwardly onto the end: why the party and ed not clocking that those people were laughing at him at first is the exception to his social awareness on purpose. (outside stede stuff, which is this whole other related but adjacent kettle of fish.)

so: two major things are going on at the party, imo. the first is culture shock; when you're not used to the social rules of the road, or the rules you're used to mean something else to the group you're currently with, it necessitates a catching up period.

if i'm used to a world where people chuck tomatoes at me because they think i told a shitty joke and i enter a parallel world where this is a sign of supreme admiration for brilliant comedy skills, i'm not gonna get the compliment at first.

i used that dumb analogy to lead me into why it's even harder in situations where you are seeking laughs. if you are not trying to be funny and people laugh at you, there's a very easy question to ask: well, why are they doing that?

and then it's usually either because you made an inadvertent joke or they're a dick! easy to sort through.

when you are looking for laughter, parsing through if it's good laughter or not gets harder.

the party is sort of a metaphor version of what happens when you are a comedian from a marginalized group, poking light-hearted fun at your own group in a setting where people know what they're invoking and everybody's having fun. stereotypes often come into it, because at the core of some common stereotypes are occasionally truths! and because jokes hit different when they're made by thoughtful people who are joking about themselves and their lived reality, not being a jerk about groups they will never be part of.

and then: people who aren't in your group find it. and they laugh, and it is not thoughtful and it is certainly not fucking fun. they don't get it: they're laughing at you, because they think all the stereotypes they have about you are super fun and super true.

so ed, who is something of a natural performer and entertainer, is seeking out laughs at the party in e5, and that's why he doesn't see the laughter as a sign anything's wrong at first. he's making jokes, he's dancing— he wants people to laugh with him.

he does not want people to laugh at him.

then he's not joking anymore, he just doesn't know their stupid rich people 'we have so much money and ennui we made up new and dumber ways to judge people for not being as rich and bored as we are' spoon rules, and they still laugh at him.

as soon as that switch happens, ed gets it. it's not that he's bad at reading people, it's that a combo of culture shock and looking for laughs forestalled the obvious conclusion until the very second he stopped looking, at which point he immediately knew they were fuckheads and switched gears.

[how-very-salty]

as you wish :3

pretty match

JD x Veronica, fluff, ex to lovers

Someone knocked demandingly on the door. Veronica looked up and frowned: she wasn't expecting any guests. At least not tonight: Marie had gone home to visit her parents, and Martha was spending the weekend with her boyfriend. She didn't have any other friends who might drop by uninvited. After some hesitation, she decided not to open the door; whoever he or she was, they would soon get tired of waiting and leave.

Or not. A few minutes later, the knock came again, this time longer and louder. Putting the book down with a sigh, Veronica rose from her chair and went to the door. Could it be Mike? He'd been trying to ask her out for half a year, to no avail. Yes, he was a nice guy, a college basketball player and, well, a pretty good-looking one, but there was something about him that wasn't working. Something was missing; maybe it was a dark charm or a sharp, edgy sense of humor, or maybe he was just too good for her. No, whatever Martha might say, Veronica wasn't moping about her ex! She just liked that type, nothing more. 

She looked out the peephole and sighed heavily. It was definitely Mike: she couldn't see his face, but who else could be standing outside her door on Valentine's Day with a bouquet of sky-blue hydrangeas?

"Mike, one more time: I'm not going out with you," Veronica rolled her eyes irritably and opened the door.

"Uh, I wouldn't want to be in that Mike's shoes right now. Lucky for me my name is different."

Lost for a moment, she stared at JD standing in the doorway. He hadn't changed much in the past six months, except that he'd swapped the trench coat for a motorcycle jacket and his hair was a little longer. But his signature smirk was still the same, and it still pissed her off. Pissed her off, not made the blood rush to her cheeks.

"What are you doing here?" she asked cautiously, stepping back. Taking that as an invitation, JD stepped in after her. "I don't think you should..."

"I thought maybe we could go out?" he smiled awkwardly, crumpling the flowers in his hands. His face suddenly took on a vulnerable, open expression, and... oh, shit. This was exactly why she had fallen for him in the first first time. Veronica stared at JD in silence, feeling the uninvited and totally unwelcome warmth spread under her ribs again.

"Uh, this is for you, by the way," he handed her the slightly crumpled bouquet.

"Well... thank you?" Ronnie mumbled uncertainly, clutching it reflexively. "Going out, is that like a date? Or..."

"A date. It's not like my name is Mike, so there won't be any problems... ouch!" he winced in surprise and rubbed his injured shoulder. "For what?"

"For your stupid jokes," Veronica snorted as she turned and headed for the kitchen. She should have put the bouquet in water: no matter how she felt about her ex, flowers had nothing to do with it.

"Darling, violence isn't the answer," J.D. murmured, following her casually.

"Yep, it's the question, and the answer is yes," she muttered to herself, turning to him and placing the flowers in the vase. Tilting her head to the side, she gave him a long, appraising look. "So why did you decide to show up now?"

"I missed you," he smiled crookedly and leaned forward, holding the fallen flower out to her. "A lot."

Her heart pounded loudly in her chest. It wasn't fair: she could never resist his sincerity, and he knew it well enough to use it against her. He was doing it on purpose, wasn't he?

"We're broke up, remember?" Veronica shook her head stubbornly. JD, not waiting for her to accept the flower, placed it on the table and miserably hcunched over. She felt a sharp sting in her heart. What the hell was that?

"I'm sorry, I... I know I haven't been the best boyfriend. Even the good ones. Would you believe me if I told you I've changed?" his voice sounded lower and faint. Goosebumps ran down her spine. If he kept this up, she was definitely going to do something stupid....

"Not really," Veronica hummed uncertainly. After hesitating, she picked up a flower from the table and added it to the ones already in the vase. "I'm not sure you're capable of that. Why now, JD?"

He shrugged sharply and turned away, shoving his hands into his pockets. The corners of his lips turned down. Veronica, cursing herself, rolled her eyes irritably: "Okay, fine! Just give me ten minutes to get ready. And it won't be a date! We'll just have dinner, okay?"

"Where are we?" Veronica looked at JD who was sitting next to her. "If I didn't know you better, I'd think I got into a car with a maniac. I mean, in one of those classic teen lovers attack scenes, right out of the old clichéd horror movies."

"Oh, so we're teen lovers now?" he grinned broadly and handed her an open can of beer. "Sorry, no wine, just beer. Let's complete our characters, hmm?"

Veronica snorted and accepted the can, taking a tiny sip.

"So..." she gave him a curious look, "why this place?"

"It's quiet, peaceful, and there's just an incredible view of the sunset. Look, now... a little longer. Here!

Veronica turned and stared, mesmerized, at the sunset-lit city. The tiled roofs bloomed in fanciful strokes; the windows of the houses flashed brightly. The lengthening shadows, emphasizing the contrast, finally turned the city into an impressionist canvas.

"Very beautiful. And terribly romantic, not your style at all," she leaned back without taking her eyes off the city."What's the catch?"

"Hey, maybe I'm a romantic on the inside?" J.D. leaned over the seat and pulled out a bag. "Look, I even brought us a romantic dinner!"

"Sandwiches from 7-Eleven, canned beans, and a package of sausage?" she raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Even for you, that's a little too much..."

"Shit, not that!" he blushed, snatching the package from her hands and pulling out a second one under her mocking gaze. "Well, not that it's much better..."

Taking a package of nachos and guacamole from the bag, Veronica shifted her laughing gaze to JD.

"My motel doesn't have a kitchen, so I could only make this," he snorted defensively, sending the nachos into his mouth. "But I swear it's good! It's my signature dish. My mom taught me how to make it when I was eight."

"Oh," she exhaled awkwardly, unable to think of what to say in response.

" Whatever. Just taste it," JD guided the nachos to her side. Veronica, blushing slightly, opened her mouth. "What do you think?"

"It's good," she giggled as she chewed and reached for more. "Damn good!"

"So I'm not so bad at romance, am I?" he grinned smugly, opening a can of beer for himself.

"Let's just say the guacamole added a few points to your score," Ronnie hesitantly lowered her head onto his shoulder. She hated to admit it, but the further they got, the more she was enjoying this not-a-date-but-still-a-date. Only one question still plagued her. "But I really want to know why now?"

JD sighed and, chugging his beer from the can, finally admitted: "Because I'm alone now."

"What do you mean, you broke up with someone?" said Ronnie carelessly, the first thing that came to mind. And then it came to her. "Oh, wait... your father died?!"

"Bingo, honey," JD smiled crookedly. He tilted his head back, downed his beer in one gulp, crumpled up the can, and tossed it in the back seat. "A month and a half ago. I was happy at first, and then... I'm alone, Veronica. All alone. You're all I have. Actually, I don't really have you either."

"But I'm here, with you," she moved closer resolutely, biting her lip and looking into his eyes. "Even though we're broken up, I'm still..."

Leaning in, he suddenly kissed her with desperate tenderness. Veronica froze and opened her eyes. Her heart was ready to jump out of her chest. She placed her palm gently on his chest - his heart was beating as fast as hers. She felt lightheaded. Her eyelashes closed by themselves... Oh, she hadn't realized how much she missed kissing him....

"I never wanted to break up with you," JD whispered hoarsely, pulling away reluctantly. "But you did, and you obviously didn't want to feel guilty about our breakup... So I just gave in. It was a mistake, I... I want to be with you, Ronnie. Not just because I'm alone, I just want to be with you. I always want to."

She stared at him, stunned. The pause continued, and JD's face grew grimmer with each passing second.

"You didn't want to?" Veronica finally exhaled with an awkward chuckle. Her mind was a mess. "Wait, I thought... I thought you wanted to break up with me."

"What?"

"As soon as I received the letter from college, you became so distant and irritable. As my departure date approached, you drifted away from me. And I," she shrugged with a bitter smile, "decided not to wait for you to say it. Decided to say it first, so it wouldn't be so-"

"But I didn't mean to!" objected JD hotly, leaning forward. "It's just that that damn letter meant you were leaving Sherwood. Leaving me...and...and...I know I should have reacted differently. I should have been happy for you, but I was just scared that I was going to lose you. And of course I did lose you..."

"Looks like we're both fools," Veronica laughed softly, grabbing him by the collar of his motorcycle jacket and pulling him toward her. "I guess that makes us a pretty good match. Well, if we try a little better this time. What do you think?"

His eyes gleamed with enthusiasm. Instead of answering JD sank his lips back into hers with a kiss.

any Valentine day's oneshot requests? 👀'

[bluewinnerangel]

The big Kiwi talk

IT’S HERE. AND IT’S HUGE.

Dear many anons, I’ve kept you waiting there way too long my love. Also thank you @larrysballetslippers​​ in particular for bullying me into releasing this thing hahahah. I’m SORRY. This has been sitting in my drafts unfinished for so so so so SO long because I wanted to do it right and I still don’t know if I did but enough is enough. This is a big big long big post about the song Kiwi. Lyric breakdown, time of writing, many possible meanings, song parallels, music video, you name it. I know Kiwi has been analysed a lot a lot and this is not an alternate reading to anything, this is putting many possible interpretations together at once. Really I’m gonna bring a whole lot into this. Maybe read it in a couple of sittings. It’s a lot to digest. Let's go! Kiwi Kiwi Kiwi wooo

Under the cut (I warned you it’s long):

~Disclaimers, feel free to skip~

All this should be obvious but with other analyses where I didn’t state these things I got a couple of responses that show I should have so blabla incoming: 

Not trying to convince you of anything, don’t take things too literal, things can have multiple meanings, there are nuances to things even though I might fail to bring it in a nuanced matter sometimes. I’m nowhere trying to claim these interpretations are what he meant when he wrote this because how would I know (and people claiming other things don’t know either). Just decide for each thing if it makes sense to you, stay skeptical, crunch that brain and welp with this analysis you kinda have no choice this time because I’m giving a ton of different interpretations and they definitely don’t all fit together. 

All that said this is coming from someone who is convinced Harry & Louis are together and the lyrics at the very very least are incorporating babygate so just get ready to have that in here loads. It’s also written with the assumption whoever reads this knows all about that. If not have this. 

Song parallels disclaimer: with pointing out song parallels I’m not implying whichever song was written later is referencing the other one. I’m simply pointing out there parallels can be drawn and you can interpret it whichever way you like. Especially those between Harry’s and Louis’ lyrics it’s dare I say a realistic conclusion to draw that they are and will continue to have loads and loads of parallels in their work not because they’re doing it on purpose to relate to each other but because they’re going through the same stages together, hardships, and being exposed to the same shit over and over again, oh I don’t know maybe because they’re sharing a life. Although I do think some of the times they do purposefully leave lil nods to other songs because they are somehow related to the song they’re writing, and that sometimes those are each other’s songs, just know that when I point out a parallel that’s not because I’m thinking Louis’ music is based on Harry’s and vice versa or something. Ok got that out of the way.

Now really let’s go places:

Things known about the writing process

It was one of the first songs he worked on after 1D. We got footage of him singing it with long hair (gif above, credits here), so it was before may 2016, and this pic of I’m assuming the same moment:

He's said this about Kiwi:

"It started out as a joke, now it's one of my favorite songs. It's one of the first ones I wrote for the album, when I was getting out a lot of energy. I hadn't written in a long time and this is what came out of it." - here

There really isn't any other option to explain this song except for resorting to “haha jk lol” now is there?

“Getting out a lot of energy” I have trouble interpreting more than one way. I almost want to state it as a fact that it was him getting out a lot of frustration. Almost as if there was sOmEtHiNg really fueling this thing. I think the stuff he chose to get out there first as he went solo is very telling, with Kiwi being the 2nd released music video after Sign of the Times. He came out of 1D, went on a 6 minute strugglerant about being sad and stuck (in the industry/closet/his image) in a defeatist (but not entirely devoid of hope) kinda way and then followed it up with another 3 minute rant about losing it, shit happening around him driving him crazy, this is frustrating the fuck out of me I'm just gonna release that energy by yelling about the thing that frustrates me the most among all this bullshit over and over again let's go SHE'S HAVING HIS BABY AND IT'S OUT OF OUR HANDS yes this is how I cope. I don’t know if this needs to be said really but I do think it’s about that, about babygate. (also there’s this idea it’s written by louis and I think that doesn’t make much sense) It’s really in your face, it’s so obvious it somehow becomes hard to believe he really did that but I do think he really did. That said, it could be that it’s not just about that, that it’s about all stunts, stunts in general, or even the whole (media/industry) circus, and that it includes details of both of the messes he as well as the people he cares about were/are involved in with the main one, the most frustrating one, being babygate. Still there are bbg-free alternate interpretations that I’ll get to as well.

Kiwi lyric breakdown:

She worked her way through a cheap pack of cigarettes

One line in and the scene has already been set: there’s a girl and she got no class.

There’s a lot of play on words in Harry’s songwriting and this song is no exception. So I already want to highlight the choice of the word “cheap” here and how it might be deliberate as later on there’s also a “business”, an “I paid for it/I’m gonna pay for this”, even the “cha-ching!”. He’s leaving a trace of a theme: money 

Parallel: Night out and it's ten grand, headlines that I can't stand - Just Like You

Who is "She"? Let’s list a whole bunch of possible interpretations (and with that, that of the whole song): 

It’s one specific girl the entire time as I’ve seen some not very deep interpretations of it being about ~certain girls he has been associated with~. And I’m not going into this whatsoever because NO

Still on that one girl, and the song is exactly what it looks like: a girl in da club every boy has got his eyes on, maybe not even anyone specific but a nice concept for a song with not much behind it (again, no.)

Still one specific girl the entire time, but yaknow babygate and first girl in line by a mile is definitely Briana, now we’re getting somewhere

an accumulation of girls he or those close to him have encountered that have had alterior motives (like stunts). That some lines include details of one of them and others being inspired by others.

the industry / fame / behavior of those in that world as a whole. The not-so-glamorous side of it that the insider, Harry, is seeing. Something looking great but it being a facade. Rock and roll, living fast, no real glory, hard liquor mixed with a bit of intellect

Harry is She, Harry is always all the She’s (I’m not going into this but really you can kinda make it work)

Hard liquor mixed with a bit of intellect

Yeah so whoever she is, she's just smoking something and drinking something  and she's not very smart either, he’s really not trying to paint her in a good light here.

I'm setting myself up here for another parallel: "Now we're saying goodbye, Waving to the hard times, Smoke something, drink something" in We Made It

And all the boys, they were saying they were into it

This of course is a way of describing this girl’s appearance/behavior is generally considered to be desirable. But! The ambiguity in this line I love so much. You can easily accept this as him insinuating he’s into it like everyone else and he’s one of the boys if you want it to. Orrr iiisssiiittttt?? He’s not saying he’s one of those boys. (Later on there is that “but I’m into it”, I’ll get to it.) All the boys, ya know the boys who like the girls, are saying that's what they're into. I'm not into girls, I have no clue, but look all the boys were saying they were so apparently this is of interest.

Parallels: 

"The boys and the girls are in, I mess around with him/them, And I'm OK with it, I'm coming down, I figured out I kinda like it" - Medicine. I do think this is deliberate, although it doesn’t have to have the same meaning. But they seem to be written around the same time. It could be to weave songs (that were probably intended to be on the same album) together, just for the fun of it, or maybe even to use the same concepts for opposite meanings which I believe he’s done multiple times since (or all of the above, or none, who knows but the mermaid).

"told myself I kind of liked her" - Home. I know this line doesn’t look like much without context, but I think this line is vital to Home and its story, and that Home means a great deal to H, so, possible intentional parallel I’d say yes [please ask me about H vs home parallels] (this will come back)

And then another interpretation can be that “it” isn’t a woman at all, but a situation, a mindset, fame, this kinda lifestyle, *coughs* some “it” that has to end *coughs*, you name it.

Such a pretty face, on a pretty neck

Extension of the previous 2 lines, there's only a little bit of intellect up in that head on that neck there but at least it's something good to look at, or so I've been told.

Also it's really petty. To me this reads as ridiculously passive aggressive (not to mention the tone of this whole song, he's just aggressively screaming all of it), like he’s just focusing on the neck like he just wants to slit that throat.

She's driving me crazy, but I'm into it, but I'm into it

On surface level he's one of the boys that's into this girl right? That's the obvious. That's what the song seems to allude to, the thing you conclude as a casual listener: there's a girl he finds attractive, as does everyone else, she's driving him crazy with it and he's into it. So in part I think some of these lines are written with that concept in mind, in such a way that it supports both that idea and what the song is really about. Here we got a very easy line saying he’s finding her attractive basically, orrrrr iiisss ittttttt

First tho: more parallels on HS1 with this with in Only Angel & Carolina, we got more girls driving him crazy by just being and he's oh so extremely into it. (not including Woman as he doesn't really seem to be much into it there) And I totally interpret these songs in different ways, I’m just saying, casual-listener’s (or aggressive het harrie making everything about girls would count as well I guess) level it’s these themes again and again.

But then there's that second layer, that’s the driving me crazy maybe isn't a positive kind of crazy. And the part where he’s into it could mean many many many things

I’ve also seen yet another interpretation that being into it means that he’s stuck in the situation that’s frustrating the fk out of him, he’s part of it, whatever it is. And then lemme just add Golden: when it ends, don’t wanna let you know. SOTT: they told me that the end is near, he just wants to *** **

Another interpretation could be that he’s just going along with the boys, because they were just now saying they were into it, but then he’s backtracking with adding a kind of:

I'm kind of into it

Oop there it is again, the same parallels as mentioned above but it’s getting worse with 

“[all the boys said they were into her] I’m kind of into it” - Kiwi

"told myself I kind of liked her" - Home 

"The boys and the girls are in, I mess around with them/him, And I'm OK with it, I'm coming down, I figured out I kinda like it" - Medicine 

kind of. In the context of liking girls. Reminds me of them answering interview questions with shit like "I guess you could say that yeah" like.. Yeah KiNdA. But, not really maybe.

But also (I am GOING PLACES WITH THIS JUST STRAP IN HOLD ON TO YOUR GRANDMA)

I think songwriters sometimes are inspired by situations/events that don't really have a positive side to them but they add something positive to the song anyway ("but I like it" or they end on a twist where "but you came back to me" or someshit) otherwise the song isn't... fun... isn't attractive. The same goes for Stockholm Syndrome. So here it could be that this shit's just driving him off a cliff and he's losing it and that's just it, like he’s not into anything he’s just going insane but that won't do for a song, so he adds that he’s into that craziness.

It's getting crazy, I think I'm losing it, I think I'm losing it

when 2 excessive gifs, one painful one and a bear say more than a thousand words

x

Oh, I think she said "I'm having your baby, it's none of your business"

Here of course we need to talk about the main message of the song, the elephant in the room, considering he wrote this song in the same months his enemy and other half of the horrible conspiracy that ruined their friendship had a "baby" that was also a huge target of another horrible disrespectful conspiracy and it really does seem none of his business doesn't it? Sorry but if this song is about anything but that and the having a baby is an analogy of literally anything else, that's one hell of a poor word choice then isn't it? There must have been someone, just at any point any point at all in this whole songwriting process going don't you think this is gonna come off as .. ya know.. that? Don't you think there was someone, anyone, at any point going like, hey, so, you know the only baby born in your near vicinity as far as fans know recently is that kiddo from that dude people think is secretly actually dating you like you're not being the most considerate of that baby and that family there maybe like but idunno it’s your choice. ?????

Aaaanyway, lyrically it's smart again: he goes "oh I think she said" as it's a double-triple-down on the I got nothing to do with it: “I think", like I don't even know, "she said”, so it's a woman saying something to someone, not even necessarily to him, it's like a telephone game indirect uh I guess that's what's going on. And then literally "it's none of your business", the 3rd indicator that the "you" (person “she” is telling she’s having his baby to) as well as the "I" (singer), whether that's the same person or not, got very little to do with the endeavour.

And not just that, but the way he decided to describe it's got nothing to do with him / he's got no say in the matter is interesting too: “it's none of your business”. That's it. It's business, it's a business, it's money. Someone is having someone's baby and it's another person’s business. It's a moneymaker. That's what it's for. Case closed.

Now okay let's just consider alternate explanations, let's just consider he doesn't give a poopy about babygate, this got nothing to do with that, then what is it? (also always consider it can be multiple of these things, really why not both, why not all) "having your baby" could also be a way to describe things being said about him in the media, as it’s just one of those celebrity rumors that fly around. (How many times has Jennifer Aniston been pregnant again?) I tried. And it even makes sense. I can try again: it could also be that “your baby” is the records he makes, and that “the suits” or whatever you wanna call it then take it and turn it into their business, take something he “birthed” to make a profit. And very successfully I might add. Both of these are entirely valid explanations and do make a lot of sense to me but also both of these could have been described in many other ways, yet he chose this. As I said above, if he meant either of these and definitely not bbg, that I’m wrong about everything and whatever narrative was being pushed about Louis’ life at the time (and still) is actually real (but I don’t think it is) then what an orrible orrible word choice this is.

~Drugs mentions coming up~

2nd verse:

It's New York, baby, always jacked up

Holland Tunnel for a nose, it's always backed up

Ok imma bring so many interpretations into this it’s a mess and imma pretend turning it into a list is somehow fixing that here you go:

First and easiest is that it’s just a coincidence and H is just totally awkward random, is that NY’s the place where you go when you want to make it big, where you got aspirations to be somebody, where you go on your chase for fame. I rarely think name-dropping people and places are to be taken literal, especially not in Harry's vague mess so I don't really consider "He was in New York with a girl and that girl told him that she's having his baby" as an option here.

“Jacked up” is just a way to say someone’s full on drugs, so this person or lifestyle is never sober, so yeah themes here are money, drugs, and alcohol, which I think would describe the musician/hollywood lifestyle. There have been and are many many many many musicians out there writing about that life in this way.

Did I say she’s always full of drugs yet? Lemme just emphasize: nose always backed up

He really didn't back down with the the cokesniffing sniff right there in the song either, in case it wasn’t clear what that nose was doing.

He keeps describing this woman who is claiming to be pregnant as taking substances you shouldn’t be taking when pregnant. Possibly helping to describe she actually isn’t.

A person’s chase for fame (NY mention) just consisting of partying, just doing coke basically all the time (always jacked up / nose always backed up).

There's some HS1 song-linking going on here:

Ever Since New York. Same as in ESNY, he drops “New York”, then drops a more specific well-known part of NY (Brooklyn/Holland Tunnel). He only uses NY twice in his songwriting, here and ESNY, which are snuggling on the tracklist. Got a couple of theories here. (disclaimer again, if you think ESNY is about his stepfather and don’t feel like it’s up for debate, that’s fine, stay there and just skip this bit. If you’re open to alternate interpretations read this) So he's going insane in Kiwi and then he hits his lowest low right after in ESNY. I think first of all using the same keywords across songs on an album just helps create a whole, he weaves these songs together. Or it’s worse and the NY in ESNY = the NY in Kiwi, again again that sounds like ridiculous farfetched bs if you think ESNY must be about dealing with bad news about a family member and kiwi is definitely not that and yep here’s that link again but I don’t think it is, I think that in both songs “New York” describes either fame or is a nudge to another stunt.

Carolina - coke. But also screaming about a "she" that drives him crazy :) Harry you're driving me crazy :)

Ok now for the next line

When she's alone, she goes home to a cactus

Imma drag so many things into this just... like take a break, get some water, this is a mess. HAVE FUN. Anyway so. many. interpretations:

This girl when alone goes home to a dry prickly ornament. Like she's got nothing there, really only just a plant and not even one that requires love and attention either.

This is pretty much telling that she's not going home with him / he's not going home with her right? If this song is about some attractive femme fatale that Harry's into and has had interactions with to the point where she could be telling him she's having his baby, then, what's this sentence doing here? Like what's the point of this sentence if it's about that.

Song parallels:

It's kind of the opposite of Home. You'll never feel like you're alone, I make this feel like home.

She’s alone <> Harry’s never to be felt like he’s alone She goes home to a cactus [her home’s empty] <> Harry has someone making whatever *this* is feel like home [his home’s not empty] (and yes that’s a blatant assumption Home is directed at Harry, to me that was already clear and then he just piled on Canyon Moon on top of that so eh)

There's some song-linking mess within HS1 here again, with all the girls and their homes:

When she's alone, she goes home to a cactus, in a black dress, she’s such an actress - Kiwi

Couldn't take you home to mother in a skirt that short, But I think that's what I like about it - Only Angel

She's got a family in Carolina, So far away, but she says I remind her of home, Feeling oh so far from home - Carolina

But there’s another mention of Home on this album and that’s Harry having a Sweet Creature bringing him home instead:

Sweet creature, Wherever I go, you bring me home - Sweet Creature

What to do with this info? I uh.. can go places: girls are going to their homes, he’s going to his? But common word common theme, right?

now for the cactus

Cactus, dry. Harry wet. Cactus dry Harry wet. CACTUS DRY HARRY WET. (just imagine me saying this like GAVE ME COOKIE GOT YOU COOKIE like this scene in new girl)

Harry seems to thrive in wet, just, at all times throughout all his work. He's consistently putting himself or things he cares about in water, there's this just e x c e s s i ve need to put water everywhere, to be just a nautical anchor holding looking for his sailorman diving into deep ends, plunging in, seemingly preferring to drown over any other type of hurt, not to mention the only depiction of his uh mate in his work is a fish, it just goes on, everything is wet wet wet. So yeah cactus? Not his thing. Not his place, not his home, he got nothing to do with a cactus. Harry is kelp. Seagrass. A water lily. A lotus. The opposite of a cactus.

But I got another interpretation. Soooo cacti are associated with... how do I say this, dry desert-typey landscapes... otherwise barren lands right?. That, how would you say, don’t need much fertile grounds. That don’t .. eh... Barren.

Desert. Barren. Unfruitful. Infertile. Empty. Not Pregante. Not pragnent, no pregonate. NO PREGGERS.

I also think mentioning over and over again that really all this girl is doing is smoking, drinking, and seemingly permanently on drugs is a pretty good indication that she’s not really having someone’s baby I mean you don’t need a cactus to tell you that

(I'm secretly hoping you kinda went holy fucking shit there because I did I mean we know but pff)

In a black dress, she's such an actress

Black dresses I do associate with club goers, party girls. And welp pair that with she being such an actress, some bearding/PR stunt involved female vibes here

The black dress can also refer to a lyric (I’m aware little black dress exists but not sure if I can do anything with that info; also might as well state here that any lyric may refer to another lyric anyway) or a specific person / situation

Then I do have to mention there has been someone parading around with baby bumps in black dresses not that long before this was written... But I am very weary of these kinda pretty literal interpretations, he does seem petty af here so wouldn’t put it past him.

“she’s such an actress” is a good way to say she’s faking it, tying in with the previous line, how many ways is that now you can interpret things here as him saying someone’s saying she’s pregnant but she isn’t actually? So just a little recap:

When she’s alone she goes home to a cactus, in a black dress, she’s such an actress = She’s faking it in a black dress and when there’s nobody around she’s clearly not pregnant. hmm.

Moving on, 3rd verse:

She sits beside me like a silhouette

Some girl-im-associated-with-but-idk-her vibes. This makes me think of photos of public figures supposedly having whatever type of relations and photos of them are placed side by side in articles and such.

It’s also pretty much in line with the “she’s driving me crazy but I’m into it” interpretation of not being able to escape this situation he’s in, he’s into it, part of it, she’s always there like a shadow (silhouette beside me) and it’s frustrating the fk out of him.

BUT I GOT ANOTHER INTERPRETATION AND THIS IS GONNA GET A BIT WILD and nasty:

Silhouette/shadow/synonyms of these can also be analogies of public images vs their true selves, they’re two dimensional mirrors/reflections, not them but look like them etc. But I don’t see how that makes all too much sense in the context of the rest of the song unless this verse and this verse only is doing something else entirely. Which is possible? It’s a mess, but here we go:

Then with that said I can bring in some more parallels: this kinda somewhat mirrors “Who’s that shadow holding me hostage” - Stockholm Syndrome (it’s only shadow vs silhouette really) and even “beside you I’m a loaded gun” - No Control which.. I mean only works if you view those songs as being related (which I do) and also become a bit less of a joke when you get to the next line:

Hard candy dripping on me 'til my feet are wet

Oh so Hard like the loaded gun and then candy like the sweet treat that is “Sweet where you lay / Sweet and Sour, I devour” - No Control?

and it’s also.... dripping things... onto his feet.. Yaknow.. the ... medicinecandy that’s dripping out of.. something..hard... throw in a foot fetish while we’re at it

...

With the amount of lyrics (and what he’s said in interviews, and just done, just behavior in general) that can double as something dirty I wouldn’t be suprised. But does it fit the song? I guess it could. It could be like Stockholm Syndrome / No Control and even Kill My Mind and Back To You, which you can all read as having that double meaning of being stuck / not having control over the difficult and frustrating situation they’re in (being the in the crazy music industry / PR shit / fame / you name it) but also about a uh..? ~not boring~? let’s put it like that? relationship, or even both simulaneously: Like this shit is killing me but ~the things we do behind closed doors~ serve as an antidote and help me feel better. Maybe, maybe not. None of these lines are all too convincingly alluding to that on their own but there seems to be a bit of a pattern here right? she says while trying to ignore the 6 years worth of footage of them being nasty right in front of our salads.

Also “till my feet are wet”, they were dry but the hard candy is making them wet. Like I said before harry’s thing is wet, which helps the idea this is a positive bit right? Possibly? I need this distraction from this situation until my feet are wet, till im comfortably put back in my element which is water. 

Harry’s somewhere out there laughing, literally meaning some random girl just dropped some candy on his toe and here I’m coming in with 28 diffferent interpretations....

Aaaaaanyway stepping away from that wild stuff, back to Kiwi alone. Since there’s such a big theme of substance (ab)use, I didn’t even go over the more obvious “candy” definitely at the very least doubling as a synonym for drugs again (and with that “hard candy” being hard drugs).

It’s also a movie and a whole different meaning there I don’t wanna get into

Also I think it’s funny that he mentions a cactus and then wet feet because that’s what it’s called when you overwater your plants and killing them that way, the fast route to killing a cactus via rootrot.

And now she's all over me

I can't contain this anymore I'm all yours, I got no control, No controooohoohool, poooooooowerless and I don't care it's obvious, I just can't get enough of you I got noooo control I mean yes this is probably bullshit but it keeps checking out lol.

Casual’s listener interpretation I’m not even sure is worth mentioning, that a girl is literally on top of him.

And of course it just fits with that concept that she’s driving him insane, that she’s just all over his mind, that the situation is consuming him.

Another interpretation could be that her name is linked to his everywhere he goes (thinking about 1D times where interviewers kept bringing up girls he was associated with over and over again).

it's like I paid for it (cha-ching)

There are SO. MANY. INTERPRETATIONS. HERE. 

Paying for it = buying it. Like, are you buying it? 

Are you believing she's all over him? 

Or, are you believing all these stunts?

paying for it = that money theme again. CHA-CHING, cash, big moneys, it’s a business. 

Also “it’s like”, so kinda, so, not really again? she’d be all over me as if i paid for it, but I didn’t really?

Also a bit of a clever insinuation that we’re dealing with a prostitute here right? Just for the fun of it? Or another clever wordplay, because while prostitute means “to offer for sexual intercourse in exchange for pay”, it also means “to put oneself to an unworthy or corrupt use for personal or financial gain“, for the 28th time insinuating that this girl is doing classless shady shit. (I hope it’s clear I’m not saying sexwork is something negative, it’s definitely not)

It's like I paid for it, I'm gonna pay for this

The wordplays are coming out of my pores by now, so here he flips the words around, going from “as if I was paying for it” to “I’m going to be paying for this”. This could be “You thought I was already suffering the consequences for this no no that’s nothing, I’m still going to” Or it’s even literal and he means he’s going to have to be putting money into something. Or you know totally awkward random who nows.

I personally choose to interpret this line as I'm gonna have to face some kinda backlash with this song, people are gonna be talking about this in a way others are not gonna like, yep is gonna have some effect oopsie but I'm gonna do it anyway.

Sooooooo I think that concludes the lyric breakdown I didn’t totally spend more than a month on.

yeah that was a lot... and we’re not done.

Meaning of “Kiwi”

And then after all that this mfer had the AUDACITY to call it Kiwi. WTF is that? Why? How? When??? 

Possible meanings:

KIWI like an abbreviation, what was the joke again, Kendall I Wasn’t Interested? Lol.

Kiwi, the bird:

Bird is a word for “girl”, I don’t recall if he has addressed girls as birds before but Louis definitely does (it’s a common way to say girl in northern england if I’m not mistaken).

It’s also more specifically a bird from New Zealand, so there’s some interpretations that he’s talking about certain people that are from NZ, like Dan Wattpad, but I’m not that set on that idea.

A Kiwi’s a flightless bird and he has used (not) flying/being in the sky, being birds, and bird(cage) tats, so it could signify once again not being able to fly away and stuck in this mess ('but I'm into it')

If you’re a bird I’m a bird, have some birdy bird posts, thank you @ladychlo​​ and @ialwaysknewyouwerepunk​​ for feeding me with these kinda posts nomnom

Kiwi, the fruit.

His whole fruit aesthetics didn’t come in until the FL era (if you excuse the bananas), I don’t think he really meant to throw a fruit in there just because it’s a fruit, but who knows.

~still on the fruit, but now it’s time for a biology lesson:~

related to fertility (again), the inside of a kiwi resembles sperm trying to fertilize the female egg cell:

But wait! There’s more! Harry possibly being at it again and just meaning something dirty: Kiwi’s can be compared to balls (testis) too, I mean just the Kiwi on its own being a hairy ball yay for that, but it also looks like a cross-section of the (I’m trying hard here to use layman’s terms) tubes that produce the sperm. Here are links to a blog demonstrating that perfectly. For those who don’t get it, these are pics of kiwi slices with microscopic images of testis tube slices shopped into it:

My two favorite worlds combined. It’s even purple too so this can’t get any closer to my very specific personal vibe right here. What’s your vibe you say? Explaining purple sperm thanks to Harry Styles yep that’s it. What’s a song analysis without throwing in a biology lesson (Luckily we’re not breaking down anything Kurt Cobain or we’d be here forever).

But let’s move on, to the music video because nope nope this shit just goes on.

Music Video 

I can’t write this massive post and not go into the music video, because what the hell, a cakefight with children in suits and puppies while yelling someone having a baby is not someone else’s business? Yeah that’s Harry Styles for you.

This kind of “weirdness” makes me think of one of his favorite songs, Flowers in the Window, which has a very particular music video (with pregnant women no less) that just descends into an almost psychedelic weirdness (thanks @wishingicouldfly​​ for talking about this hah) and doesn’t seem to have much to do with the song itsself, or does it? 

Maybe first the buildup to the MV, the teasers on social media, in order:

28 kids if you don’t include Harry and his mini-me ok yep that’s fine.

mini-me of long hair era Harry got it? yeah got it. 

Harry be like STRONG asdkjahskdjh

Don’t laugh (please laugh) but this reminds me of this

It’s 90% just that girl wearing the same kinda Louis Bert shirt

(can you tell even I am going ENOUGH IS ENOUGH with this post please im pasting bert memes here)

Let’s also not neglect to mention the fact that his mini-me is a girl

This lil puzzle crazy mfer probably did some annoying[affectionate] shit with the amounts of times there was “KIWI” across all these and that will probably haunt me forever but

nuh-uh mfer not going there nonono.

Just one more thing before we get into the video:

x

harry be like mirror mirror on the wall who is the biggest bluegreener of them all

Anyway onto the video, unfortunately I’m not done with the wild larrying because the first 4 shots, can’t make this shit up, are this:

Mini-Harry in the bluegreen suit barging in through the nice blue door into the nice blue hallway, nice school you got there

nice blue cupcakes you got there

then the very next frame (0:12) we get the lil STRONG bluegreener boi with the turquoise cupcake

Cut to just his face and his blue shirt, he angry

Followed by another kiddo, in a green shirt this time, also angry

And then we just get to a whole bunch of images of cakes and kids, but yeah just saying those are the first images, juuuuuuuuuuuuuust pointing it out, nice coincidunkirks. It’s not like they’ve been aggressively bluegreening before and since nono.

So then mini Harry enters the room, they’re about to start the fight, it’s a buildup to it

for some reason this lil dude is highlighted a lot:

And this guy gets to say “what the fudge” hehe:

And then they fight, fightyfightyfighty, until mini-Harry runs out of ammo (cupcakes) (1:50):

Runs to the cake pile for more, then soldier manoeuvres (whatever that move is called) her way out of there like she’s evading bullets (managing to draw SOTT parallels because I like the pain)

but looks defeated, and that’s the moment now-Harry? Short hair harry? Big Harry? whatever actually Harry enters the room with a puppy.

2015 harry Mini-harry looks up to him like she’s saved pretty much.  

And then there’s just a bunch of chaos with children and cakes and puppies and at the end we get the smirk

Also the full image of all the kiddos at the end with the lil vertical stripe’o’bluegreener in the middle:

Interpretation, I guess. Although, it isn’t much, not compared to the lyric insanity above:

I’d like to think he just went fuck it I want a cakefight and puppies and so it shall be. Lighten the mood of what has fueled Kiwi into existence, turning it into something cute, innocent, sweet, etc.

But ok I’m calling this the big talk so I gotta go places with this, one clear theme is kids, human kids and puppies. They were only kids trying to work it out WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME STOP (do have a parallels post about this tho) with a very obvious younger version of him, the little long haired girl, made extra double triple clear by wearing the same suit as him, this is long-haired harry. Another clear theme is fighting, half of the MV is spent preparing for battle and then it descends into chaos. So this could be the most lighthearted analogy you’ll ever see of well.. his/their ongoing battle with *all the bullshit*.

Also we gotta go here right, gotta go here... can’t leave it out, bunch of kids in a gay club being themselves before all the shits goes to shit:

I can’t even watch this

tag of posts about this I still dont know how to link a tag in a way it works on mobile sorry if you’re on mobile

I also want to share this post about his live performance of Kiwi. I do think he pours out a certain type of energy that isn’t comparable to anything else, something that doesn’t happen with any other song. But I haven’t had the opportunity just yet to experience this myself, of course there are tons of videos, but I’m sure it’s different, so I’ll let that post tell it all. 

Anyway, last point, about him singing it live, is how he decided to end HSLOT on July 14, 2018 (July 14 you say, end on July 14? really? you wanna end the tour, end it, on july 14? okay. okay. no. that’s fine. yeah this is fine too. oh yeah just bzz again in 2020 why don’t you. It’s fiiiine), and end it on singing Kiwi 3x. His entire god damn tour he ends it on screaming the “I’m having your baby it’s none of your business” song three times in a row on the three year “anniversary” of the start of babygate?

And with that this analysis. Thank you for reading I hope it was a good one <3

Read my other song analyses here

[sunmoonandeddie]

and he kissed me right here

pairing: modern!bucky barnes x reader

word count: 6,100

summary: I've always been sure that all I ever wanted was a glamorous life.

warnings: Cuss words, mentions of the Afghanistan war (Bucky is a veteran), angst, happy ending, cheesy romantic confessions, age gap

a/n:  This is based on the song 'Stars and the Moon' from Songs for a New World! It's the first one shot in my musical series! This is written in first perspective, but there is no physical description or use of a name in this!

Twenty-Two

I sighed as I tossed a few more dirty plates into the dish window, wiping my brow. After a shitty dinner rush and an even shittier rush around two in the morning consisting only of drunk ass college kids looking for some sort of carb to suck up all the alcohol in their systems, I was ready to go the fuck home.

“Sweetheart, you head on home now,” the head chef insisted as he watched my head nod slightly as I tried my best to fight off sleep. “Ain’t nobody comin’ in before Melissa gets here. No point in you staying on your feet any longer.”

Louis was a godsend. At sixty-seven years old, you’d think he would rather be anywhere but a diner at almost four in the morning.

“Nah,” he had said when I’d asked him a few months after I’d first started. “My Ginny died a few years back, and since she’s been gone, I don’t really have the stomach to sit around that house all alone.” He had laughed, but there’d been a deep sorrow that had come over his deep brown eyes. “Kids are worried, but… Sleeping the day away is better than laying up at night staring at her side of the bed…”

“You sure, Lou?” I asked even as I headed for the back room where all the employees clocked in and kept their possessions in their own little cubbies. I did my checkout in view of the security camera, just like always. I didn’t want anyone to be able to say I stole anything.

Everyone who knew me knew that I wouldn’t, but I’d worked at two many places where the girls tried backstabbing each other and sabotaging everyone else to get them fired.

Though people were a lot nicer in Louisiana than any of the other places I’d lived.

Louis chuckled as he set a to-go box in the window, nodding towards it. “Mmhm. Long as Buck is getting you home safe.”

I gave him a joking eye roll as I took the to-go box gratefully, grinning at my name written in all caps with green Sharpie on top. “You know you don’t have to make me dinner every night.”

“Yes, I do,” he said, shooting me a look. “How else do I know you’re getting enough food in you, huh?” He pointed his rag at me. “Now you go ask him to get you home. Tell him I said he can clock out, and that he’s supposed to text me when he sees you safe inside. You better not say you’re gonna ask him again just to walk yourself home.” The old man shook his head as I headed for the back door, muttering to himself, “Damn girl thinks I’m gonna believe she’s feeding herself good enough when she’s risking her damn ass walking home alone.”

Despite the fact that I’d put off asking for Bucky Barnes’s service, I really did appreciate how fiercely Louis cared about me.

It had been a real long time since anyone had cared so much.

I hesitated at the back door of the diner, my hand resting against the cool metal.

What if he said no?

Granted, he most likely wouldn’t. But what if he said yes, and he secretly thought me some dumb little girl that couldn’t take care of herself?

What did I care if he thought that?

“I don’t care what he thinks of me,” I huffed as I straightened my shoulders, holding my chin a little higher.

“Stop talking to yourself and get going!”

I jumped in surprise, before shooting a glare in the direction of the kitchen. “Stop listening in on my private conversations!” I demanded before storming outside with new found vigor.

Only to freeze when Bucky looked up from where he was sitting on the curb, smoking a cigarette.

God, he was handsome.

“You okay, doll face?” He asked, his New York accent a sharp contrast to the southern drawls you were used to.

“Um… Y-Yeah,” I said faintly, glancing back at the door that I’d come in from. “Um… L-Louis wants me to ask you… Can you walk me home? Or give me a ride? I don’t… I don’t know if you drive…”

“I do drive.”

“O-Oh. Okay. Great.”

“But I don’t have my car on me.”

I peered at him curiously. “Oh. Um… I can just walk by myself. I don’t wanna… I don’t wanna be a nuisance…”

He stood up, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. “Don’t be ridiculous, darlin.’ Come on. I’ll walk you.” He shoved his hands in his pockets as he began to head for the street. “Besides… It’s a real nice night.”

“Oh…,” I said in surprise at how ready he was to be of service. “Okay. But only if you’re sure.”

A faint smile graced his lips as he glanced at the ground, letting out a faint chuckle that rumbled deep in his chest. “I’m sure, darlin.’ But you gotta lead the way.”

I was surprised by the rapid pitter patter of my heart beat as we walked side by side down the street, the chorus of ‘Yellow Brick Road’ getting stuck in my head on a loop.

Bucky was an enigma that I found myself wondering about more often than not, but I always ended up talking myself out of going there. After all, he was an older man. A much older man. At least fifteen years older than my own twenty-two years, or something along those lines, not that he looked it. The man looked like some kind of rugged Greek god. Like Hades if Hades was born in the eighties. His dog tags clinked together under his shirt as we walked, his metal prosthetic glinting in the moon.

“So how did you end up in NOLA?”

It took me a moment to even realize that he was talking to me, my heart skipping a beat and my face going hot in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” I asked.

His bright blue eyes flickered over to look me over. “How’d you end up in New Orleans?”

“I actually don’t know,” I snorted, avoiding his eyes as I kicked at a few broken up pieces of asphalt. “I just… Picked a bus ticket and ended up in one of the Carolinas. Then I picked another bus ticket and ended up in Minnesota. And then I picked another, and another, and another, and then I actually just… ended up here.” The months I’d spent alone on those Greyhounds felt both so long ago and also like it was just yesterday. “The diner was the first place someone recommended for food that’s good but cheap, and as I was eating my mountain of cheese fries, I saw the flyer that said they were hiring. So here I am now…”

“Huh,” he said, his brows furrowed. “I didn’t take you for the type of person to run off on your own… riding buses all over the country…”

Head tilting to the side, I gave him a long look. “You didn’t? What kind of type did you peg me for?”

Bucky gave me a long look, a single brow raised as though silently telling me that I jumped to conclusions. “Just that jumping from place to place can take a lot outta someone,” he said slowly, his voice low and soothing. “Hell, if you were my girl—” He broke off as his cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink, his long hair falling in his face.

I swore my heart had stopped inside of my chest, and I swallowed thickly around the lump in my throat. “Oh?”

He rushed to try to correct his wording. “I-I just mean, a lady should be comfortable. And if I had a g-girl like you, well… You’d never want for anything,” he stammered, stumbling over his words like a flustered school boy. “Hell, I… I’d give you the stars and the moon…”

I was shocked into silence, staring up at him like he was the sun itself. “Bucky…”

“No, no, don’t say anything. I… I know that was a lot,” he insisted quietly, unable to meet your eyes as he stared up at the shitty apartment building you called home. “Hell, you probably don’t want a gross old man hitting on you.” His metal hand, glinting in the low light of the street lamp, reached up to brush against my cheek for just a moment before it quickly dropped. “Just let me walk you home each night so I can make sure you’re safe, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I breathed out, unable to take my eyes off of him as he took a few steps back.

There’s a somewhat playful smirk on his lips as he watched me stumble up the steps, continuously glancing back at him. “Goodnight, baby doll.”

“Goodnight,” I said, barely audible before I finally headed inside.

Bucky kept his word. He walked me home every night, and honestly, there wasn’t a moment that I wasn’t thinking about what he had said, about if I was his girl.

What if I was his girl?

But… with that meant I’d have to give up the life I’d dreamed for myself. I wanted luxury, to never worry about bills or where I was gonna get my next meal or if I could afford to buy the nice work shoes or if I could only get the cheap ones that would fall apart in three months and then I’d just be right back where I started.

I wanted the life that celebrities lived. Hell, I wanted to go to parties on the same yachts the Kardashian-Jenners did, even if I couldn’t fucking stand them.

And with Bucky… I wouldn’t have that.

“So why’d you go on the run anyway?” Bucky asked one night as we sat on the curb, eating ice cream in the Louisiana heat. “I know you told me how you got here, but you’ve never told me why.”

“You’ve never told me how you ended up here or why either,” I shot back, nudging his shoulder with my own.

Somehow the age difference seemed non-existent as we sat there. Honestly, I felt like we were just a bunch of dumb teenagers, shooting the shit and enjoying each other’s company.

Bucky took in a deep breath, his shoulders sinking in a way that made it look like he had all the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I was over in Afghanistan for a long time,” he admitted quietly. “When the war first started, I was 19. I had no idea where my life was going and I had no options except my dad’s mechanic shop. So I enlisted with my best friend, Steve. The one I told you about.”

It’s completely silent except for the sound of an occasional car horn off in the distance.

“Neither one of us knew what we were doing. We realized very quickly that we had no reason being over there, but… but there was nothing else,” he said, swallowing around the lump in his throat. The ice cream he was holding was melting in his trembling hands. “I didn’t know how to do anything else, so I stayed. Steve moved up in the ranks, but I stayed pretty low… I didn’t mind. Kinda liked being the older guy all those young kids could talk to, could rely on… Because they were just like me, getting into a fight that wasn’t theirs because they had nothing else.”

My heart was shattering inside my chest as I scooted a little closer, my knee knocking against his as I tried to give him some sort of silent comfort. He’d been through Hell and made it through.

Bucky let his head rest against mine, his eyes closing as he breathed in the scent of my perfume. “They eventually moved me to some kind of specialized team… Called us the Howling Commandos. I found out that Steve was heading it and he picked me to be part of it. That’s how I met Sam, because he was on some sort of similar team with the Air Force, except it was just him and his friend, Riley,” he continued, taking a bite of his chocolate fudge brownie ice cream. “I am proud to say that I didn’t kill a single person while I was over there. I just couldn’t. Hell, they’re people just like me, terrified and unsure of what’s going to happen.” His lips pressed against my forehead, letting it linger. “But then about five years ago, I was on a mission with the Commandos, Sam, and Riley, and… this bomb went off while we were playing a game of soccer. I wasn’t even in a fight. That thing took my arm and it took Riley.”

Tentatively, I let my fingers find his, holding his hand and squeezing reassuringly.

“Sam decided to come home with me.” There was a forlorn look in his eyes, as though he was right back at that game of pick-up soccer. “After losing Riley… he couldn’t find a reason to be over there. And then Steve decided to stay, and hell, he’s still over there, leading that fucking team…” Glassy baby blue eyes finally found mine, the both of us doing our best to not cry. “I couldn’t face my family for a long time, so Sam asked me to come stay in Louisiana with him and his family, and I haven’t left since.”

“Have you gone to see your family?” I asked slowly, almost like I was scared I’d frighten him if I spoke too loudly, like a wild animal. “Let them know where you are? That you’re safe?”

He turned to look at me, his baby blues shining. “You worried about me, baby doll?”

“I can’t help it,” I said honestly, unable to tear my eyes away. I hadn’t opened up to someone like that in so damn long. “I can’t help but worry about you.”

The way that I felt about Bucky absolutely terrified me, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. It snuck up on me, like a train coming around a bend.

I hated it.

“What do you want out of this life?” Bucky asked on one walk home, his arm linked in mine. He’d become so much more… tactile. If anyone took a moment to look at us, they’d think we were a couple on a romantic stroll.

Perhaps we were.

But I couldn’t help but grin as I looked up at the sky, taking in the warm air. “I wanna live like how the movie stars do… I want a big house on the beach and twenty cars and a yacht and… and…”

He looked at me long and hard. “And you never wanna have to worry about where your next meal is coming from, if you’re gonna have a place to sleep at night…”

For some reason, I’d felt a bolt of panic over whether or not he’d understand. Whether or not he’d think differently of me, but I should’ve known that he wouldn’t. Hell, he knew me better than anyone else.

“You understand,” I said quietly, my hand squeezing his bicep gratefully. “I want to live how the other half lives for once. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

A small smile graced his features as we shuffled along. “There isn’t. But… What about love?” He asked.

“Love?”

“Love.”

Love.

Could I even have love? Did I want it?

“I don’t know if there’s a lot of room for love in my plans,” I admitted after a long moment. “In my experience, love has always just been a lie. A word used to manipulate and eventually abuse.”

Letting out a snort, he let his fingers tickle down my tricep until his fingers intertwined with mine. “I’d show you it’s not… I’d show you what real love is,” he said. “I’d give you every part of me, give you all my strength to help you grow into who you wanna be, even if I don’t particularly care about being famous or rich…” He brought my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “I’ll give you a love story, a life, that’s a million times better than any recycled Hollywood plot… I’ll give you the stars and the moon, if you would just let me.”

I hated the way that he made my heart beat faster, the way my breath hitched. “Jamie,” I breathed out quietly, the two of us having stopped in our tracks to just… take each other in. Live in each other’s presence for a moment. “I…”

“You want a big life… one a lot bigger than little old me,” he said simply, shrugging. His blue eyes were so honest, so loving. So warm. A warmth I hadn’t ever experienced before. “I know. But that doesn’t change that I’m in love with you. And if you ever change your mind…” Bucky reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, pressing it into my free hand. “This is where you can find me. I figure it’s time for me to go home.”

We’d come to a stop in front of my building, and I was shocked at how tight my chest felt. My eyes watered as I stared at him long and hard. “Jamie, please… I⏤”

“Don’t say it. It’s okay,” he insisted as he cupped my cheek, letting his thumb run over my skin as though he was memorizing it. “I just want you to be happy, darling. You got that?” His lips pressed to my forehead, letting it linger. “Go get that life you’ve been dreaming of.”

Twenty-Three

I left New Orleans the next day, grabbing a bus ticket after throwing all of my belongings into my old duffel bag. It was time to move on.

But God, did it hurt.

I didn’t stop crying for weeks, fighting the urge to go right back to Louisiana and tell Bucky to take it back, to get him to beg me to stay with him.

But what kind of life would that leave me with? Working in the diner day after day? Never getting anywhere?

But you’d have James, a voice inside my head reminded me snarkily.

Then again, he most likely wasn’t even in New Orleans anymore, if what he said was true when he gave me the business card of his father’s mechanic shop. Was he really planning on going home to New York City?

A few months later, and I’d worked my way all through the southwest to Santa Fe, where I met Pietro.

My heart was pounding as I pressed in the familiar numbers, having memorized them from the business card now soft and faded from how often I held it in my hands like a lifeline. “Come on… Pick up… Pick up…”

“Barnes Tires and Motors, this is George,” a man said in a gruff voice when he finally picked up. “How can I help you?”

“H-Hi, is James there? James Barnes? Bucky?” I stammered out, hands trembling so bad that the old payphone was almost rattling.

There was a pause, and then muffled talking away from the phone.

And then I heard it being picked up. “This is Bucky,” he said.

It felt like the wind had been knocked right out of my lungs. How had I gone so long without hearing his voice?

Breathing in sharply, I tried to figure out the words to say. But my throat was dry and it was like I’d suddenly forgotten the entire English language.

That was all that it took for Bucky to realize it was me. “Baby doll? Baby doll, is that you?” He asked quietly. “I…” He took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “You don’t gotta say a thing, sweetheart… But just know that if you’re in trouble or you need help or… or anything at all, you better call me…” His voice wavered, as though he was fighting tears just like I was. “God, I miss you so much, baby doll. I love you.”

I love you, too.

I hung up before I could actually say the words. “God, I’m so fucking stupid,” I whispered as I leaned back against the wall of the gas station I’d found myself at, rubbing the heels of my hands into my eyes.

My dumb ass had decided to wander from the bus station, and I’d walked over a mile away. Unless I was staying in Santa Fe for a bit, I’d need to start making my way back.

“You okay?”

In my distress, I hadn’t even heard the rumbling of the motorcycle or noticed the handsome man making his way to me. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” I said even as I wiped my nose with a pathetic sniffle.

He eyed me for a long moment, his eyes roaming over my figure. “You hungry? I know a great little place nearby. My treat.”

And well, I was never one to turn down free food.

Even if that ‘little place’ ended up being a food truck.

“You know, when you said it was a little place, I didn’t picture it having wheels,” I said teasingly, licking salsa off of my lower lip. “Though, it is the best food I’ve ever gotten from a food truck before.”

“Oh, come on. This is the best food of all time!” He laughed, shaking his head.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” I snorted, finishing off my flautas.

Pietro looked at me long and hard. “So, are you gonna tell me what the hell was going on to have a pretty girl like you all teary eyed?” He asked, his head tilting to the side.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Was this your plan all along?” I asked. Wiping my hands off on a napkin, I did everything I could to avoid his eyes. “Get me all fed and then question me?” But at the same time, the thought of being able to finally talk to someone about it was so appealing… After a long moment of hesitation, I finally gave in. “I fell in love with a man, and he let me go because he knew that I want a life he can’t give me,” I said. “And I was a bitch who didn’t even tell him I love him back when he said it to me.”

Pietro took in a deep breath, slowly letting it out. “Damn. You really are a stone cold bitch, aren’t you?”

“Hey!” I indignantly threw a chunk of tomato at him, glaring. “I just opened up my heart, you dickwad.”

“Dickwad?!” He said, blinking at me in shock. “No one’s ever called me a dickwad before.”

I raised a single eyebrow at him. “Maybe not to your face, but they definitely have.” He gave off the vibe of a fuckboy, of a really, really bad fuckboy.

“Well, since you’re running away from your feelings, how about you spend a week or two with me on the road?” He asked with a grin.

I couldn’t help but blink at him in shock. “What?” I let out a laugh, pulling one of my legs up to my chest. “Do you throw that line out to every girl you meet? Or am I just special?”

Pietro threw a chip at me, and I barely managed to dodge it. “No, I don’t. But… You remind me of me. Needing adventure. A life bigger than four walls and a fence.”

Instinctively, I wanted to snap back that sometimes, four walls and a fence could be an adventure, could be the biggest life there was, as Bucky’s face flashed across my mind.

But I couldn’t do that. Not when I wasn’t ready to face the truth myself.

“Come on, sweet cheeks,” he teased as his foot hooked around mine. “Just think of it. The open highway, a rhythm beneath your feet… Nights full of passion and days of adventure…” Pietro’s voice was deep and husky, as though he was trying to lure me in. “No strings… just warm summer rain soaking us to the bone before we find some cheap motel to huddle down in…”

Plastering on a smile, I stood up and brushed myself on. “Thanks, but… I’d rather be drinking champagne, and the quicker I get to LA, the sooner I will be.”

He let me go with a kiss on the cheek and his cell number pressed into my hand, with a promise to come and pick me up the second I rang.

And despite how sweet he was, how wild and funny and charismatic, there was only one man I wanted to call.

Twenty-Four

I sipped at my martini as I sat at the rooftop bar, absentmindedly watching the television that was mounted on the wall as people droned around me. I’d been in Los Angeles for a year, and I’d spent my time finding the best places to find a husband who could give me the life I dreamed of.

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, it took connections to build a career, and the best way to get a foot in the door when nepotism was so rampant was by marrying someone in the industry.

My silk dress was the most expensive thing I owned, something I’d saved up for months for, had skipped meals for. And fuck, was it worth it. I could feel the stares, the lingering gazes on the little bit of thigh that was exposed by the slit in the dress.

I’d already turned away several men, able to tell just from their expensive watches and cheap suits and shoes.

It was amazing how all the up and coming finance bros thought they fit in with the truly big dogs.

“Well, hello, gorgeous.”

I turned to see who was speaking, my heart skipping a beat when I realized who I was speaking to.

The world famous (or infamous) director, Tony Stark.

“Hello, handsome,” I said smoothly, my lashes fluttering innocently as I took a sip of my horrible drink.

I fucking hated martinis. Always had.

But ordering a martini was more sophisticated than ordering a frozen strawberry margarita.

“Is this seat taken?” He asked as he motioned to the empty bar stool right next to me, even as he was already sitting down. “Let me buy your next round.”

“I can’t think of anything better,” I said, feeling as though my dream life was already in reach.

Twenty-Eight

“Tony, where are you taking me?” I laughed as I let my boyfriend lead me to the private dock at our Malibu mansion.

Well, his mansion. I just happened to also live there.

It had been a whirlwind of a year since I had met Tony, and he’d bought me that second round. He’d taken me all over the globe, anywhere my heart desired.

But I made sure to avoid New York City, though he never understood why. I would never tell him.

Not when I was so close to my dream. I could practically taste it.

“Come on, come on. I have a surprise for you,” he said, keeping his hands over my eyes. He was sure to keep me from tripping and busting my ass, thank god.

The ocean waves were so comforting as they hit the shore, a sound I’d gotten used to over the past year.

He finally brought me to a stop, quietly telling me to keep my eyes closed. “Okay,” he said finally. “Open them.”

My eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the bright light of the California sun. But I was more shocked by the sight of Tony on one knee in front of me, holding out a box with a sparkling diamond ring in it. “Tony?”

The ring was the size of a fucking meteor. It was easily the biggest ring I’d ever seen.

“You know, I never thought I’d meet someone like you,” he said quietly, his dark eyes shining. But his voice was steady. “Someone who understands me, who doesn’t expect me to change into someone I’m not. You accept me as I am, and that’s why I want to give you the world.” He couldn’t help but grin as he nodded to the right. “Starting with that yacht you’ve always dreamed of.”

I hadn’t even noticed that there were two yachts at his private docks instead of just the one. The new one had SS Princess emblazoned on the side, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh… Tony…”

“So, what do you say?” He asked, bringing my attention back to him. “Will you be my wife?”

“Yes.”

Thirty-Two

Swallowing nervously, I looked down at the business card in my hand for the millionth time, the stock paper soft from how often I’d looked at it in the past ten years.

Hell, just how often I’d looked at it in the past six should’ve made it fall apart by now. Not that I didn’t have it memorized.

I’d finally ended my marriage after being miserable for so long. I’d gotten my yacht, my fancy houses, my career, all the jewelry that I could dream of, and none of it made me happy. Tony and I… never grew. And I never dreamed. Every day was the same, and every day was torture as I realized that I didn’t have the one thing that actually mattered.

The garage in front of me was busy, music blasting and the sound of men shouting to each other as they worked.

Suddenly I felt absolutely ridiculous wearing a Chanel dress and Gucci heels, an Hermés bag on my arm.

BARNES TIRES AND MOTORS was lit up along the top of the shop in bright red letters, though the lights in the ‘r’ of ‘motors’ were out.

I felt like a fool. I had wanted the life I had so desperately that I gave up everything for it. I got the movie star life, my name on billboards and my face on magazines.

But it wasn’t ever enough.

My heels clicked against the blacktop as I slowly made my way towards the front area of the shop, bells clinging above my head to let them know someone was there.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” A man asked as he came around the corner.

He looked so much like Bucky, it punched the air straight from my lungs.

“H-Hi. I’m looking for James Barnes. Is he here?” I asked after a long moment of hesitation. There was no way that the man was Bucky, but I didn’t doubt he was related.

The man raised his brows, wiping his hands on a rag. “My son’s in the shop. I’ll take you to him.” His full head of hair was white, his thick facial hair matching. Even with all the wrinkles on his face, he was a handsome man. Holding open the door for me, he led me into the loud shop, some eighties rock song blasting over the speakers.

I couldn’t help but smile as ‘Rock You Like a Hurricane’ by Scorpions came on. It was one of Bucky’s favorites back when we worked in the diner together.

“BUCK! YOU GOT A VISITOR!” The man shouted, causing several people to look our way.

My cheeks felt hot as I avoided their gaze, hoping they wouldn’t recognize me. I didn’t want to be a famous movie star anymore, a celebrity that had to beg for scraps of privacy.

My mind went numb, my heart stopping inside my chest as he stepped around a gray Ford Escape another man was working on.

He was even more handsome than he was the last time I saw him.

“Can I help y—” He broke off, his blue eyes going wide when he realized that it was me. “Hi.”

All of a sudden, everything I’d planned to say flew out of my head. All of the eloquent words I’d strung together were gone. And I just proceeded to word vomit.

“Did you know that, uh, when you marry someone you’re not in love with, you won’t… you won’t grow into it?” I asked, my voice shaking. “Um… I married a man who could give me a life I thought I always wanted, and he just… sucked.” Eyes stinging, I fought back against tears. “And I thought that all I ever wanted was the life I have now, was the life movie stars and the Kardashians lived. But… But I hate it. I hated every second I was away from you.” I let out a weak laugh, unable to stop the tears. “I wanted to turn around the second I got on the bus in New Orleans, but my stupid stubborn ass didn’t. I should have. I should’ve gotten off and just run right back to you because I… I love you, James. I always have.”

The garage had gone almost deadly quiet, and my heart sank when I realized Bucky looked almost frozen in shock.

“I know that I shouldn’t have showed up like this,” I scrambled to say. “But I… I’ve been trying to get my divorce finalized for two years and I finally did, and I kept telling myself that once it was done, I’d never hold myself back from what I really want ever again. From who I want. If… If you want me.” My face felt like it was on fire, my hands shaking. I shook my head as I took a step backwards. “What am I thinking? There’s no way you’re not married. I… I’m so so—”

Before I could finish the word ‘sorry,’ Bucky had closed the distance between us, his hands cradling my face so gently. He held me like I was made of fine crystal as he kissed me. He kissed me like his life depended on it, like I was the one source of oxygen.

And I kissed him back just as fiercely. “I love you. I love you so much,” I breathed out in between kisses, unwilling to let him go as my Hermés bag fell into the dust and oil on the concrete below.

Bucky smiled into the kiss, his arm wrapping around my waist to keep me pressed to his chest. “I love you so much, darlin.’ God, I’ve missed you…” His nose nudged against mine as we finally broke for air, both of us breathing heavily.

My knees felt like Jell-O as I held onto him. His grip was the only reason I hadn’t fallen to the ground already.

“I’m sorry I was a dumb twenty-two year old,” I said, snorting as he stole another kiss.

“No… Don’t be sorry,” he insisted, his fingers massaging my scalp as our foreheads pressed together. It was like he was scared to stop touching me, like I would disappear at any second. “You were young… You had to go out and make your own mistakes… I’ve just been waiting for the day you were ready.”

All the years apart melted away and all that remained was the two of us, two souls so intertwined that there was no way to truly separate us.

Our lips were half molded together as I said, “I’m never leaving you again. I promise I swear on everything…”

My heart almost stopped inside my chest as I heard someone clearing their throat, looking to see Bucky’s father staring at us with his arms crossed over his chest. “M-Mr. Barnes, sir…”

He gave a crooked smile that was so reminiscent of Bucky that I couldn’t help but grin back. “The Mrs. will wanna know if you’re staying for dinner.”

“Yeah,” I said as I looked up at Bucky, toying with a strand of his hair. “That sounds perfect.”

Later that night, Bucky and I laid in his bed, a mess of bare limbs as his fingers ran up and down my back soothingly. “What do you want from this life, baby girl?” He asked absentmindedly.

Humming, I traced shapes on his bare chest, sometimes pressing a kiss to where his prosthetic met his shoulder, on the tender scar tissue. “You.”

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, despite the already mischievous look on his face. “Really? Not even the stars and the moon?” He asked teasingly.

I knew he’d give it to me anyway, give me all that he could. But I was sure now that the only thing I wanted from this life was his love. “Not even the stars and the moon.”

[mypoisonedvine]

𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗽𝗶𝗹𝗹 || dark!alex kerner x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 ◦ alex has been waiting so long for you to figure out he's the guy you should be with, but you just see him as your best friend. he's tired of being a virgin, and he's tired of hoping that someday you'll wake up and realise you're meant to be together— if he can't wake you up, at least he can put you to sleep.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 ◦ 6.7k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ◦ smut (noncon, somnophilia, creampie), drugging, obsession, "nice guy"/incel vibes, a bit of possessiveness, very slight degradation, male virginity loss, overall just alex being super unsettling and awful lmao

“I’m gonna run to the washroom, watch my drink?” you requested casually. Alex nodded quickly, heart starting to beat a bit faster as he watched you weave your way through the crowded bar, leaning back a bit to make sure you were out of sight for good.

He took a few glances back and forth at the people around to make sure no eyes were on him, leaning in closer to the bar to try to conceal what he was doing— reaching into his inner jacket pocket and fishing for what he’d bought just a few days ago, waiting for this moment. He was absolutely terrified that someone would catch him— that you would catch him— but he was willing to risk it in exchange for such an incredible reward.

After struggling for a second due to his hands shaking slightly, he found the plastic baggie and discreetly slipped it out, not even looking at it as he opened it close to his chest; he figured if he stared straight ahead it would be less suspicious.

He managed to get the bag open and lean forward just enough to dump the contents into your drink as it rested on the bar, looking around absent-mindedly to remain nonchalant— except that when he leaned back to see if the powder had dissolved easily, he found that he’d missed the glass entirely and dumped the light blue substance right onto the bar.

“Scheiße!” he frantically cursed under his breath as he whipped his head around to make sure no one had seen, trying to decide how to recover from this. Thinking quickly, he grabbed the glass and held it up to the edge of the bar, brushing the powder with his hand across the smooth surface and right over the slope into your drink; it hit the alcohol and started to dissolve quickly as he used his finger to push in the excess on the wooden bar before brushing the rest away with his jacket sleeve. He held the glass up to his face to look at the liquid closely, still seeing some remnants of the powder and trying to swirl the drink a bit to encourage it to fade away: if you saw something by the time you got back, he’d have to start all over again.

“When I said ‘watch my drink,’ I didn’t mean it that literally,” you giggled, and he jumped, not having realized you had returned. Considering your casual attitude and your hands eagerly reaching for the glass, you must not have seen anything leading up to this moment— and thank heavens for that.

He watched a little too intently as you took the drink from his hand and took a sip, waiting to see if you had any reaction, but you set it down without saying anything. “Thanks,” you broke the silence after swallowing, “god knows this place is probably full of creeps.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” he agreed awkwardly. There was one benefit to being so deep in the friendzone: you trusted him. Right now, that and some pharmaceutical support were all he had going for him.

He wrung his hands nervously as he hoped that the second would come through for him. The guy he bought this stuff from said it was guaranteed to work, but Alex didn’t necessarily trust the word of a drug dealer selling daterape drugs. Not that he thought the label of “daterape” was very fair— if he could get you on a date, he wouldn’t have to do stuff like this in the first place! But after years of being your best friend, your partner in crime, your confidante, and the constant shoulder to cry on while a carousel of abusive assholes treated you like shit and kicked you to the curb, you still didn’t get the fucking picture. So no, this wasn’t a date; it was just two friends getting drinks, and one friend finally getting what he deserved from the other.

He took a swig of his own drink to try to calm his nerves; nursing the neck of a bottle of beer made him realize he got lucky that you ordered something served in a glass, since getting powder down a bottle would’ve been a pain.

Quickly the conversation returned to the mundane: your latest break-up, his week at work, your favorite bands, his favorite movies. He really did enjoy being your friend, all things considered, he just needed more. And as the night continued without much sign of the pill kicking in— even as you finished your drink— he worried he wouldn't get it.

But then, finally, he noticed the subtle signs: you were blinking a bit more often, and for longer. You seemed to be breathing a bit slower, staring off into space. "Hey, you with me?" he prompted, waving his hand in front of your face to get your attention. "Sorry, my story was boring—"

"No, it's not that, I'm sorry," you shook your head.

"Then what's up?" he asked, adding faux concern to his tone.

“I just…" you sighed and started over again. "Let’s head out soon, I’m getting ready to turn in,” you decided.

“It’s only ten!” Alex pointed out with a laugh.

“Fuck, really? I thought it was later,” you frowned.

“Who knew you were such a lightweight?” he teased, pushing you on the shoulder and getting a playful shove back— but he could feel that you were a little weak, and he saw you almost falter in your balance. “Hey, you don’t look so good, let’s go outside for some fresh air.”

You nodded and took his hand, letting him guide you through the crowd and out the back door.

The overwhelming noise that had been present inside was muffled in the damp alleyway, just the distant roar of a thousand conversations and the heavy bass of the music left now. He watched you take a deep breath, closing your eyes. "You good?" he prompted.

"Yeah," you decided, but your voice sounded a little heavy. "Let's walk to the train station…"

He nodded and walked beside you, but you hardly made it a few steps before losing your balance. “Woah!” he laughed as you stumbled, thankfully catching you just in time, and tried not to get too caught up in how amazing it felt to hold you in his arms. “I think you’ve had a little too much to drink…”

“Alex,” you mumbled as you started to go limp, clearly fighting to keep your eyes open (and losing).

“I’m gonna take you home, okay?” he offered as you started to fade out.

He kept that promise; he just took you to his home instead of your own.

It was a bit of a struggle to drag an unconscious body back to his apartment without arousing suspicion, but thankfully it was only a couple blocks and with his your arm slung over his shoulders it was pretty easy for any passersby (of which there were very few at this hour) to assume it was just a chivalrous boyfriend helping his date after one too many drinks.

The hardest part was actually getting his keys and unlocking his door without dropping you. Once you were both inside, though, he grunted slightly as he slung you over his shoulder and carried you to the bedroom, laying you down on the bed and looking down at you as he caught his breath.

He was embarrassingly eager; he was already rock hard just from seeing you like this, laying on his bed. It’s not that he got off on you being passed out, but from the feeling that he could do whatever he wanted to you— and the knowledge that he was going to.

Finally, after all this time of being just your friend, he would get what he’d been dreaming of from the beginning.

He was slow and patient, for once, as he sat down beside you on the bed, trailing his fingers over your face, brushing your hair out of the way tenderly. You looked so beautiful this way, peaceful in a way he was almost jealous of; he closed his eyes as he leaned down and kissed you softly, moving his lips even though yours were slack and still.

Past the taste of alcohol, there was something distinctly unique to you, and he took in a deep breath as he sought more of it, adjusting himself until he was on top of you... just having you beneath him was such a rush.

He licked over your lips, even nibbled on them before holding your jaw so he could open your mouth wider and taste inside of it. “Baby,” he whispered to you, heart swelling at the chance to finally call you something that friends don’t call each other— only lovers. “Baby,” he said again, mumbled into the kiss, “you’re so beautiful…”

He precariously balanced on one arm while using the other to feel all over your body through your clothes— and even under them, for a moment, as his hand awkwardly snaked up your shirt and squeezed your tits through your bra.

Suddenly he pulled back with a new desperation, sitting up and breaking the kiss as he started to undress you. “Let’s get you out of these clothes,” he cooed at you quietly, starting to lift your shirt to expose a bit of your hips and stomach.

It was pretty difficult to push your shirt up, since your weight was holding the back of it down, and so he had to awkwardly lift your limp upper body to finally pull the fabric aside before he laid you back down and carefully— gently, with reverence— exposed your bra which itself he pulled down with much less care.

“Oh, god,” he groaned as he got an eyeful, and then a handful, of your tits. “Fuck, wanted to touch you for so long…”

You were so warm, in fact you were hot to the touch, and he hoped his hands weren’t too cold for you… but then again, you couldn’t feel any of it, could you? Did you even care?

For cold hands or not, your nipples started to get harder and he smiled to himself. “You’re sensitive here, just like I imagined. I’m gonna suck on them,” he promised as he started to lean down, pushing them together a bit to make them easier to reach. With a hum he wrapped his lips around one bud and closed his eyes, swirling his tongue and moaning at the taste of your skin. Already his hips were rocking forward into the air just a bit, his cock throbbing and eager to be inside you. But he couldn’t stop doing this to deal with that, couldn’t stop suckling on your perfect tits, going back and forth and massaging them both as he let his tongue explore you.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he groaned against your skin, “you’ve got such perfect tits… you like being sucked here, don’t you? I bet your pussy’s getting so wet.”

As his cock flexed in his pants again, he found the strength to let go so he could move on to better things.

“Let’s find out,” he decided as he sat up and moved down your body to start opening your jeans.

If he thought your shirt was awkward to remove, your jeans were a whole other story; he had to fiddle with the button and fly for quite a while since his hands were starting to shake from the adrenaline rush of it all, and then it took several hard yanks to get the tight denim down your legs. He considered just getting them down enough to do his business and be on with it, but decided it would be better to see all of you— and so he stood up off the bed for a moment, though it felt a bit awkward physically with his cock doing its best try to bust right out of his trousers, and pulled the jeans off over your feet which he also relieved of their socks.

“Aw, you even have pretty feet,” he cooed as he cradled one in his hand briefly before climbing back up over you— after all he’d seen them before when you wore sandals and while he’d always found it a bit titillating when you wore them with your toenails painted in bright colours, they were absolutely nowhere near the main event tonight.

His hands ran over your legs, admiring the smoothness of your skin as he carefully held and lifted each one, moving them out further to spread your legs. Again, they were heavier than he expected as dead weight, and the softness of the bed meant that they sort of rolled back a bit so he had to move them more than he expected at first, but it was worth it to have you spread out beneath him like this with only your panties and rolled up shirt to cover you.

“I can just… pull these aside…” he mumbled as he hooked a finger into the fabric of your panties, revealing your cunt— and god, just the sight of it nearly pushed him over the edge right then and there. What a waste it would’ve been to come this far and just end up coming in his pants at the sight of you, so it was a good thing he held it off just barely. “Mein Gott, you have such a beautiful pussy,” he sighed. “It smells good… I wanna taste it. I’ve never tasted a pussy before…”

Carefully, he leaned in and gave an experimental lick to your folds, moaning softly at the taste. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting but he liked it more than he thought he would, going in again to get a more thorough taste. That said, as soon as he started to push his tongue into you, he knew he needed to feel inside you with something much more capable of appreciating every detail of you. He breathed heavily as he quickly brought his fingers up to your entrance, pushing in one but adding a second right away once he felt the warm perfection of your channel. This he’d done before— fingering, that is— and it had been rather lackluster so he hadn’t realised how much he would enjoy it when it was you; you were so much warmer, and wetter, and tighter… his fingers curled slightly to press against your walls, his attempt to feel every detail of your body, and he moaned as he sucked on your clit while he pumped his fingers.

One more flex of his cock against the confines of his trousers made one thing very clear: now, or never.

“Fuck,” he groaned beneath his breath as he sat up quickly, pulling his fingers out of you to use two hands to fumble over his belt and jeans, “need to be inside you— m’gonna fuck you baby, you want it? Yeah, you wanna be fucked, don’t you?”

You were, of course, still and silent… but your pussy was wet, you obviously wanted him.

He shouldn’t have rushed it quite so much but the moment he pulled his cock out, he found himself leaning forward and hovering over you again, swiping the head through your folds to coat himself in your wetness. As soon as he felt your entrance, he pushed all the way inside.

“Fuck!” he moaned loudly at the overwhelming feeling of you— so hot he thought he might burn up and he wouldn’t even mind it— already bucking his hips as he thrusted quickly. Lost in the feeling, he threw his head back for a moment and blindly searched with his hand until he found a breast to grab onto. “Oh my god, you feel so good, baby…”

He didn’t have much freedom to move his legs since he’d only pushed his pants down just enough to get inside you, but he found a way to make it work anyways, just from pure desperation. After a moment, he looked down at your sleeping face, tossing around slightly as his thrusts rocked your unconscious body, and you looked so angelic that he just had to lean down to kiss you again. So he did, and he did so hungrily, passionately, moans echoing into your mouth, as he already felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge.

“Taking me so good,” he praised roughly, “feels like you were made for me… you’re fucking tight, too, how am I supposed to pull out when you’re this tight? Oh fuck, I have to come inside you— I can’t pull out, you feel too good, and you’re not awake to yell at me anyways…”

Truth be told, he had no plan for when you woke up tomorrow, sore and leaking his come. He’d never thought that far ahead, not even when he was buying the sedative for your drink. All he could think about was this moment, this exact place that he knew he was meant to be: inside you.

“Gonna fill you with it,” he promised with a grunt as he kissed his way across your cheek to the crook of your neck where he buried his face as he thrusted faster. “O-oh god, I’m close, I’m so fucking close, just— just like that, baby— fuck!”

He may have caught a little glimpse of heaven as he came inside you, each pulse of his orgasm running straight down to the base of his cock and making his balls tighten so hard that it would’ve probably been painful were it not for the euphoria superseding everything. He gave you a few more weak thrusts, not pulling out very far since he couldn’t manage being anything but buried completely inside you, before the waves subsided and he collapsed on top of you.

“You’re so amazing, baby, Mein Gott,” he breathed as he kissed all over your face, “look how fast you made me come, you’re fucking perfect.”

He let himself rest for a little while, content to just stay inside you for as long as he could stand it, before sitting back up again and very carefully pulling himself out of you.

That first one only took the edge off; now that he was thinking somewhat clearly again, he could take the time to do this right— he carefully pulled your panties down your legs, tossing them aside along with your shirt and bra once he’d figured out how to get them off somehow.

He really savored you this time: kissed you all over, talked softly to you about everything he couldn’t wait to do to your pliant body, ran his hands over anywhere he could reach. He even played with your clit, watching the way it made your walls flex which pushed a bit of his come out every time. “I love the way your pussy looks, baby, it’s so fucking sexy,” he grinned. “And you know what? I think it looks even better with my come leaking out of it. You want more? I can give you more, baby, I have so much left to give— I’m gonna use you until my balls are empty and all my come is inside you. We’ve got all night, after all.”

He stripped himself as well, wanting to feel your skin against his this time, and stroked himself for a moment as he stared down at your body, laying there at his disposal. He couldn’t even count how many times he had jerked off imagining being with you, and now his dreams were coming true, if maybe not exactly the way he would’ve predicted.

On his knees between your spread legs, he lifted your hips up and propped you up just how he wanted you before pushing inside, groaning instantly not only from your warmth but also because of the way his own come eased his path and left you dripping wet. “Oh fuck,” he breathed, placing one hand beside your head so he could hover over you while the other squeezed your hips tightly.

But now that he’d already come before, he had some real stamina to work with and that gave him time to move you into a new position— just for fun, he turned you onto your stomach and fucked you from behind for a while. He was definitely a breast man all things considered, but he was absolutely not one to let a great ass go to waste; he loved watching yours ripple each time he slammed into you, pushing your back down to force it to arch a bit.

“You probably like taking it from behind, don’t you? Is this how you liked to get fucked?” he taunted with a groan. “Yeah, I think you like it— I think you’re a bit of a slut, hm?”

He took your absence of response as a yes, squeezing handfuls of your ass before spanking you a few times for good measure.

After that, he pushed your legs up to your shoulders, groaning in awe of such a lovely view of your pussy and face at the same time. This time when he pushed his cock into you, he felt himself hit the very end of your body— he moaned as he realized his cock was using all of you, really claiming you as his own. He needed to come this deep in you, he needed it like he had never needed anything before.

Soon enough it ended up with your legs draped over his shoulders and his hands roughly grabbing at your tits, and that transitioned naturally into him slipping his arms under your back and holding you tight as he fucked you fast, rough, needy— animalistic, near the end.

He let his mind run wild with some insane idea of what it might be like if you were awake: in his fantasy you were begging him for more, moaning about how he was the best you ever had, digging your nails into his back as he brought you to ecstasy with only his cock. You seemed like the type to cry with joy when you came really hard, at least that’s what he’d imagined before, and so he thought he might kiss your tears away while he spoke his little praises to you, hearing your sounds of pleasure right against his ear.

Suddenly he pressed his lips to yours again, almost wishing you could kiss him back properly but appreciating that this was the best he could do for now— and it still did plenty for him, making his cock start to flex inside you as his second orgasm drew closer.

“You’ll make me come, baby— you’re so good, I’m gonna come in you again,” he whispered against your lips. “Oh, Liebling, you’re going to be so full of my come, do you think you can take it all? Can you take everything, baby?”

It was different from the first one: in some ways more intense, kind of building on the last, and in some ways more subdued as he knew a bit more of what to expect by now. But it was no less incredible, and he moaned loudly into his unrequited kiss as he filled you once again.

Once the most intense pangs of sensation had faded, once the ringing in his ears had stopped, and once he’d (mostly) caught his breath, he sat up slowly and looked down at where your bodies were joined. It had, understandably, made a bit of a mess to come inside you twice in a row— he hopped up from the beg on slightly-wobbly legs to retrieve a damp cloth, cleaning his cock first before giving your pussy at least a cursory, exterior wipe down like any gentleman would.

He knew there was no real point in getting you fully cleaned up since he’d be back to use you again soon enough. But that was a ways out from now since he definitely needed a while to recover.

With a parting kiss to your forehead and a brief search for his boxers, Alex left the bedroom to forage the kitchen for something to restore some energy. He settled on a coffee (there was still plenty of night left that he would definitely prefer to be awake for), an apple, and some orange-chocolate biscuits, which he enjoyed while he turned on the TV and watched whatever was left before the end of broadcast.

Of course, with nothing interesting to watch, he found himself not really paying much attention as his mind wandered to other things. Most of all, for the first time he considered his plan for after the pill wore off and you had questions. The most thorough solution would be to give you a bath to get his fingerprints off of your skin and his come out of you, then to redress you in your clothes from the bar and simply say that you passed out and he gave you the bed while he slept on the couch.

Another option, though more dangerous, might be a bit more fun: he could leave at least some of his come inside you before he redressed you, just to know he’d left a bit of himself behind.

And, of course, there was always his last resort, perhaps the most obvious but highest risk solution. He could admit that something had happened, but try to convince you that it was of your doing, a drunken initiation that you simply couldn’t remember. But even then, it would all depend on what you remembered of the moments at the bar before blacking out; and considering the thorough beating your pussy had been receiving so far tonight and would continue to be receiving, the odds were probably pretty low that he could convince your hungover self in the morning that nothing had happened. Not that Alex would know, but he had a pretty good feeling that a sore vagina is not a common side effect of a hangover for women.

His cock started to stir as he imagined the absolute best case scenario when you woke up in the morning.

Alex, what happened last night? Did we have sex?

Yes, baby, and it was amazing, I just wish you could remember it.

Oh, Alex, I’ve been waiting so long for you to just man up and take me— you’re all I ever wanted.

I know, baby, but I’m sorry I had to go about it that way, giving you that pill in your drink. I just had to be sure you wouldn’t say no to me, I couldn’t take it if you did.

I’d never say no to you, Alex, and I never, ever will. I wouldn’t even know how, not after last night— I know that we’re meant to be together now. You shouldn’t apologize for drugging me either, I should be thanking you. We can finally be together, I can finally be all yours… come here and make love to me again, I promise I’m going to remember it this time— I’ll remember it for the rest of my life.

And to make up for such a one-sided night of passion before, he decided that this time you’d be loud and proud, even bordering on dominant by riding him with reckless abandon— bouncing happily on his cock and bringing yourself pleasure like you’ve never known before. But, of course, you’d both be well aware who was really in charge, who you really belonged to.

Alex, I’m yours— my body is yours, my heart is yours, everything, it’s all yours… I swear, nobody’s ever made me feel like you do, you can have me whenever you want me— use me, Alex, I love you, I love you!

Fuck, he was hard again. Way harder than he had any right to be considering how he’d spent the night so far. He could even just barely see a little stain of precum on his boxers by the tip of his cock, hard to make out with only the dim, blue-ish glow of the TV to see by.

But thankfully, while you were here, no boner would go to waste— he stood up and stretched away the soreness that had settled in from sitting on the couch for a while, before walking to his bedroom and cracking the door open. You were laying there, exactly as he’d left you, and even though it was no surprise at all he still smiled to himself proudly.

“Hey baby,” he grinned as he slipped off his boxers and hopped onto the bed beside your motionless body, “you’ve been waiting for me, huh?”

He ran his fingers down your stomach, over your thighs, then came back up to start to touch your pussy. He still couldn’t believe how soft and silky it was, you were just too good to be true— and here you were, spread out on his bed for him to use as much as he liked, his best friend turned into his own personal sex doll.

The only shame was that the drug would wear off eventually, and he couldn’t just use you this way forever. It was only one night, at least until he found a way to do it again, and he needed to make the most of it.

So, not looking to waste any more time, he climbed up on top of you and rubbed his cock over your pussy— wet and spread out on display for him, though even wetter after he took a moment to pull back and spit on it— while his mouth laved at your hardening nipples. Honestly, he could probably come just from this, just from rubbing himself on you and sucking on your tits, but why do that when he could fuck you again?

He held your legs apart for himself as he pushed inside, purring as he felt your swollen channel struggle slightly to accommodate him. “Aw, it’s not too big for you, is it baby?” he taunted you with a smirk. “You can take it all, right? Yeah you can, that’s my good girl…”

He fucked you a little faster right away, focusing his hands and mouth on your breasts for a while and wondering if he might find the self-discipline to pull out and come on your tits this time. Probably not, but it was fun to imagine. He always thought your tits just deserved to be covered in his come, though, ever since you wore that one dress that showed them off just a little too much and it made him too horny to even really be jealous that you were putting yourself on display like that.

You dressed a little too provocatively, all things considered; he never got his head around on how all these controlling douchebag boyfriends of yours let you leave the house like that. If you were his girlfriend, he’d treat you loads better than any of them did, but one thing he’d be sure of is to dress you up in baggy sweatshirts as much as he could get away with. No more of those tops with the straps as thin as a noodle and the jeans so tight that every guy who walked by was obviously staring at you. A body as lovely as yours would need to stay Alex’s-eyes-only, if you two were ever going to end up together. But obviously, tonight proved that Alex was more confident than ever that that could never really happen. It was nice to play pretend for the night, though.

“You’re taking it so good, baby, look at you,” he groaned as he sat up a bit to get a glimpse of your cunt stretched wide around his cock. “Can you believe it fits? I can, I know you were made to take it— ‘cause you’re my girl, huh? All mine…”

For all intents and purposes, he was talking to himself; but as stupid as it was, it worked.

“Yeah, you’re all mine,” he continued, fucking you faster, “this pussy belongs to me, all my come inside it makes that pretty fucking clear, don’t you think? Such a beautiful little pussy and it’s all mine.”

Overcome by it all, he leaned down to rest his head beside yours while he fucked you, feeling a thin layer of sweat gather around most of his body from the exertion of fucking you as hard as he was.

“You’re never gonna let anybody else touch you,” he demanded against your shoulder, “‘cause you’re mine, baby, and nobody else is ever gonna fuck you… just me, you’re gonna be mine, Liebling.”

He heard you let out a little sigh and at first it was the hottest thing he’d ever experienced— the closest he’d ever gotten to hearing you moan for him— but then he pulled back and saw your eyes blinking open and staring straight up at him…

And suddenly it was the most terrifying thing he’d ever experienced.

A rush of adrenaline— much less enjoyable than before— shot through him and left him petrified as he stared back at you.

“...A-Alex?” you croaked out weakly. “What’s happening?”

Even in his state of terror, he was moving on pure instinct: and his instinct was to keep fucking you. He couldn’t stop, not even staring you down like this, not even moments away from facing the very terrible consequences of his very terrible actions. “You’re dreaming,” he blurted out suddenly, suppressing a moan as he felt you squirm a bit beneath him— it made you even tighter when you struggled. “This is just a dream…”

You reached up, a pathetically weak attempt to push him away, and he quickly pinned your arms down beside your head.

“You’re just dreaming, baby,” he repeated in a groan, “a really, really amazing dream.”

You whimpered a bit but didn’t say anything else, eyes falling shut again; he carefully leaned down to press his face into your neck, kissing along your pulse and up to your ear.

“You’ve dreamed about this before, haven’t you?” he whispered to you softly. “You’ve dreamed about how good it would be if you let your best friend fuck you. And it feels good, doesn’t it? I dreamed about this too. For as long as I knew you.”

When he looked up at your eyes again, they were still shut, and your breathing started to slow down again. He couldn’t say for sure that you were asleep quite in the same way you had been before, but you weren’t awake the way you’d been before, either.

The safest option, of course, would be to stop now— but he was too close to coming a third time and he just couldn’t bring himself to stop moving when the slick friction was just so fucking good.

He tried not to be too rough so he wouldn’t jostle you awake, and even just that took all that was left of his willpower; it wasn’t all too much later that he came inside you one last time, whispering to you about how this might be the last time, but that he hopes you enjoyed your strange little dream about making love with your best friend.

Truth be told, he didn’t mean to fall asleep in the manner that he did— that being on top of you— but the coffee did little to keep him up compared to the sedative of three orgasms and your perfect pussy keeping him warm all night…

By the time he woke up, though, you two had migrated apart slightly, though you were still tangled up in his arms with your head on his chest.

Smiling down at you, he let himself run his fingers lightly over your back, over your arm draped on his chest, before he felt you start to stir with the sunlight in the window shining on your face.

You hummed a little, starting to move, but he thought he might’ve caught the moment you realised you were laying next to someone— and you looked up at him with those pretty eyes all confused. “Alex?” you groaned.

“Morning,” he greeted, trying to mimic the hungover exhaustion that tinted your voice.

“Oh Christ are we—” you choked, glancing down at his bare chest. “I think we’re naked.”

“That… seems to be the case, yes,” he agreed awkwardly.

“Did we…?” you prompted, looking up at him in a way that made it painfully ambiguous what answer you might prefer.

“I don’t know, we were both pretty wasted,” he offered, banking on you not remembering him being much more composed than you when you passed out. “What do you remember last?”

“Um, the bar…” you trailed off. “And we were walking outside…”

“Yeah, that’s kind of where my memory cuts off, too,” he bluffed with a nervous chuckle.

He saw your eyes get wide for a second before they darted away, and he raised an eyebrow. “Oh… oh shit,” you choked as you sat up suddenly, trying to cover yourself as you searched near the bed for your discarded clothes.

“What? What’s going on?” he asked quickly.

“I, uh, remember one other thing,” you explained pointedly, finally finding your panties and slipping them back on under the covers.

“Well, what is it?” he asked, but you ignored him as you searched for your bra. “Hey,” he barked, grabbing your shoulder as he sat up, and finally you faced him again, “what do you remember?”

“Well,” you sighed, “I, uh… I think I can say with complete confidence that we fucked last night.”

“Wait, what? Are you sure?” he pressed, sitting up a little straighter.

“I… remember,” you explained, “just a little bit.”

He just prayed that you didn’t remember that little bit where he drugged you. “Well, what happened?”

“I don’t know, okay? I just remember you on top of me and—”

“And?”

You swallowed thickly, and he had to hide a smirk when he realized what the rest of your sentence was. And it felt good.

“I should go…” you mumbled awkwardly, and he reached out to grab your arm.

“Wait, please,” he begged, and you looked back at him with watery eyes. “Look, I’m not sure what happened last night, but maybe it wasn’t a mistake— I mean, how can we be sure if we don’t give it a shot?”

You tilted your mouth a bit as you considered it.

“I mean, they say alcohol takes away your inhibitions, not that it gives you new ideas, right?” he added. “So we both got way too drunk and… if this is where we ended up, then maybe this is what we both really wanted all along.”

He scooted a bit closer to you on the bed, wrapping his arms around you. You sighed as you leaned into his chest, relaxing a bit. “I just don’t want to lose this,” you breathed. “You know: this.”

“Of course,” he agreed, “we’re always gonna be best friends, nothing can change that.”

He leaned in to kiss your temple… then your cheek… then just below your ear...

“Alex,” you breathed as he slowly laid you down and pressed you back into the mattress, but you jumped a little bit when he pressed his cock against your thigh. “Alex!”

“C’mon, baby, let’s remember together,” he encouraged with kisses all over your neck, grinning as your back arched.

“But… but we’re just friends,” you protested.

“Not anymore,” he purred. “I don’t remember much, but I remember you begging me for more. You loved my cock way too much for us to just be friends now, Liebling.”

For all the conflict on your face, your legs spreading open for him was pretty unambiguous. Your mind might have missed the memo, but your body was already used to him. With you conscious he could make you come around him, he could hear you moan his name, he could make you beg him to come inside you… the possibilities were really endless.

He should’ve known he’d never have the self-control to let it just be one night; he was a goner from the beginning, he’d do anything to have you— lie, steal, kill, spike your drink— and he wasn’t going to let you get away so easily, not when you were finally right here in his arms.

“You’re gonna be mine, baby,” he whispered in your ear as he slowly pushed his cock inside you once again, “all mine.”

[enchantestuff]

hatred - Charles Leclerc

I think I might make this into a mini series with an enemies to civil with each other to friends to lovers kind of vibe but I'm still not sure, anyways here's Charles x reader wanting to rip each others throats but instead end up ripping each others clothes off

gonna dedicate this to the lovely @yungbludz​ happy birthday <33

GIF NOT MINE

warnings; smut as per usual, Charles being very egotistical, choking, language, enjoy <3

2k words 

part two

It was safe to say you and Charles hated each other. You knew hate was a strong word, but you also knew that you felt nothing but hatred for the man. You hated his cocky smile and the fact that everyone seemed to be obsessed with him. You also hated the fact that you had to spend the whole weekend with him.

You worked for Ferrari, meaning that, unfortunately, you had to spend a lot of time with Charles. You were actually excited when you first got the job of being Charles Leclerc's PR manager. You had admired the driver and couldn’t wait to work alongside him, but that all changed once you actually met him and realised what an ass he really was. Everyone else loved him, of course, because he seemed to be nice to every single person on the planet except you.

You and a select number of the Ferrari team had been invited to a special charity event taking place in the ballroom of a luxurious hotel. You had all decided to check into the hotel the day before the event, in order to save time and familiarise yourself with the venue. Of course, according to your job description, you also had to run through the possible questions Charles could be asked with him.

Although Charles loathed you, he had to admit you were good at your job and managed to prepare him for every possible scenario, which is why he hadn’t begged Mattia to fire you, at least not yet.

You sighed as you reached the check in desk, all you wanted to do was flop onto the hotel bed and sleep until the morning. You gave the lady behind the desk your name and watched as she quickly typed on the computer in front of her. “Ah yes, Y/N and Charles, room 506”

Your eyes widened at her words as you shook your head. “No no, that can’t be right” you pleaded as you leaned your arms against the counter.

“Im sorry ma'am, but the booking is for the both of you” she explained with apologetic eyes as she handed you the room key.

“Take your time, Y/N. Not like we aren’t all exhausted from our long trip” you heard Charles scold from behind you. You quickly turned around and shoved the room key into his chest.

“Politetly, go fuck yourself, Leclerc” you muttered as you shouldered past him and walked straight to Mattia on the other side of reception. Mattia sighed once you walked over and gestured for you to begin arguing with him, he knew it was going to happen.

“Why? Why would you stick me in a room with that-that imbecile!” you snapped.

“Listen, Y/N, i know how much you dislike him and vice versa, but everyone had to be paired with someone and I thought this was the best option for you both” he explained with a soothing voice.

“Why do I have to be with her?” you heard Charles ask from behind you. You felt small standing in front of him, his broad frame practically trapping you between him and Mattia.

“Y/N is your PR manager, it's her job to prepare you for this event” Mattia once again calmly explained

“And she couldn’t do that over breakfast?” Charles inquired, you could feel his tense gaze on the back of your head and you whipped around scoffing at him as you placed your hands on his hips.

“Don’t act like this was my idea! Not everyone wants to share a room with you Charles, get your head out of your ass”

Charles opened his mouth to throw a rude remark your way but Mattia stopped him before he got the chance. “The both of you are sharing this room, whether you like it or not. I think everyone would prefer if you took this time to sort out your problems instead of bickering like children. I’ll see you both at breakfast. Goodnight,” he scolded as he walked off with his luggage in tow.

You felt your cheeks redden as embarrassment creeped up your shoulders. “Are you trying to get me fired?” you accused Charles as you grabbed your own luggage and made way for the elevator.

He shrugged in response, “Wouldn’t be the worst thing” he muttered, stepping inside with you. You pressed your floor number and sighed in frustration. “Can you stop breathing so loud?” he groaned, rolling his eyes.

“It was a sigh, dipshit.”

“Trust me, i don't want to be near you as much as you don't want to be near me”

“Glad we're on the same page” you replied, stepping out of the elevator and storming to your room, which in hindsight was a foolish idea as Charles had the key and you had to wait for him as he took his sweet time walking up the hallway.

He unlocked the door with a smug look on his face and stepped in before you, dropping his luggage on the floor as he surveyed the room. “You have got to be kidding me” he complained once he saw the double bed in the middle of the room.

“Oh what is it now, Charles?” you asked as you shut the door behind you “is the carpet not to your liking? Is it too bright? Are there no chocolates on the pillow” you continued and slipped off your shoes, “do you want me to - oh shit” you cursed as you saw the predicament you both were in. “Looks like you're sleeping on the floor” you shrugged whilst walking towards the bed.

“I am NOT sleeping on the floor,” Charles complained.

“What? And you think I am?” you argued, once again placing your hands on your hips.

“I don’t see why not,” he commented, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I am not sharing a bed with you, Leclerc! So you,” you jabbed a finger at his chest, “are going to have to step off your mighty throne and take the gentleman approach and sleep,” jab “on,” jab “the floor,” you snapped.

Charles raised his eyebrow as he stared at you. You could cut the tension between the two of you with a knife, it was almost unbearable. You had never fought this long, somebody had always interrupted you both before you got the chance to really push each other's buttons. “I'm going to say this nice and slow, sweetheart,” Charles growled, taking a step forward, you in turn took a step back as you removed your finger from his chest, “I’ll take the high road, we can share the bed just this once, as long as you stop acting like the spoiled princess that you will never be” he continued to walk towards you as he spoke and you were eventually trapped against the wall.

Charles moved his hand to lie on the wall next to your head, the distance between the two of you becoming smaller and smaller by the second. “I might be ready to step off my throne but are you ready to be a good girl and step off yours too?” he concluded. 

“Bite me, Charles” you retorted and something in the both of you snapped as you grabbed his face in your hands and he roughly grabbed your waist. Your lips violently pressed against his as your tongues practically fought against each other. You almost moaned at the force of his kiss, but refused to give him the satisfaction.

Charles pulled away, giving your mouth a final short kiss before he moved to mark your neck. “Come on, princess. Stop being stubborn for once in your life and let me hear the noises that you can make''

You however kept your mouth shut, Charles smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “If that's how you want to play it,” he smirked before gently grabbing your breast and slipping his hands into the waistband of your leggings. He rubbed circles on your clit as he pinched your nipples. “I want to hear you, sweetheart,” he grunted.

You rolled your eyes back in pleasure and involuntarily let out a moan. Charles felt his dick twitch in his pants and cockily grinned as he kissed right under your nose. “Good girl,” he whispered. It wasn't long before his trousers were discarded as well as your own leggings. You hadn’t moved however and were still pressed up against the wall. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked and although you felt your heart skip a beat you rolled your eyes at him and nodded.

“Yes, please just - just hurry up” you squirmed against the wall. That seemed to be all the validation he needed. He slowly put a condom on before easing into you. You scrunched your eyes at the uncomfortable feeling and tapped him to move. Your lips parting on their own accord as the feeling was replaced with pure pleasure. Charles forcefully grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist, providing him with a better angle for both himself and you.

“O-oh shit” you moaned as you scraped your nails down his shoulders to his arms, which left harsh red marks in their wake. Charles moaned at the feeling and you were almost aroused by the sound. Almost.

One of Charles hands were digging into the soft flesh of your thigh while the other moved to wrap itself around your neck, his signature pinky ring digging into the flesh of your skin causing you to mimic his actions and let out a moan at the pain.

“You like that?” he grunted as he continued to thrust into you, lightly placing some pressure on your throat, not enough to suffocate you, he didn't hate you that much, but enough for you to enter a state of pure bliss.

“I hate you, Leclerc” you found yourself muttering but you certainly did not hate him at that very moment.

“Feelings mutual, love”

You continued to scrape your nails across his back, desperate to pull more moans out of him. Charles however, didn't like being the only vulnerable one and removed his hands from your throat, he grabbed both of your hands in his own and shoved them upwards, beginning his assault on your chest.

Your toes curled as he hit all the right spaces, you knew you were close but you really didn’t want to be the first one to let go. Charles could feel the clenching of your walls and smirked into your chest. “Are you close, princess?” he asked, bringing his mouth to your lips and for some reason you found yourself kissing him back.

“No” you blatantly lied.

You moved your head closer to him when he pulled away but he refused to connect your lips once more and you found yourself pouting at the lack of attention. God, how pathetic had you become.

“Now, i knew you were a spoiled brat but i didn't take you for a liar as well”

“Glad to know your ego has no off moments, Charles” you scoffed and were about to start an argument before he began slowly pounding into you, his precise thrusts made it extremely difficult to formulate a sentence let alone hold onto the knot in your stomach. So, against your brain telling you not to, you let go.

You would have fallen onto the ground if it wasn’t for Charles' strong grip trapping you against the wall and his own body. The noises that he made as he reached his own high caused your heart to flutter in your chest and you began to wonder if having sex with him was a bad idea.

“Are you okay?” he asked after he had pulled away from you. You nodded your head as you furrowed your eyebrows

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” you asked.

You were surprised the both of you were capable of having a normal conversation, but you supposed nothing could be normal between you after that.

Charles gently ran a finger across your neck and by the look on his face you knew you looked worse for wear. “I kind of lost myself in the moment, I’m sorry if I hurt you. Really I am” he clarified.

“Its okay” you sighed as you rubbed your neck, “lets just go to sleep”

“I’m still not sleeping on the floor”

“Just stay on your side of the bed, Leclerc”

[wizkiddx]

hiii!!! omg please please pleasee do a part two of 3 hearts broken cus it fucking slaps miss girl

part 2 to 3 broken hearts!!! ive been so 🥺 at all the lovely comments+interest pt 1 had so thanku all !

summary: serious serious angst again will tom somehow get it back (unlike looking cos boy is a fool)

warnings: again lots of swearing (im British sorry not sorry) / wayyyy too much tea / slating Dom abit (obvs fictional but idk if I like the guy sorry his opinions are :/) / commitment issues

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

read part 1 here!!!!

That was three days ago now. Three days since you'd spoken to your boyfrien- well, Tom. It wasn't evident what the situation was.

The typical British weather brought with it the most ironic pathetic fallacy you could ever see. The clouds were dark and glooming, firing angry pellets of rain out as hard as they could. When you had pulled up on the roadside, it had just been a light drizzle but synchronised with your anxiety levels rising - so did the rain. When you finally opened up the car door, you threw your hoodie open with a sigh before running up the pathway to the front door.

It was the same burgundy red that you knew so well, but this time instead of just letting yourself in - you stood in the rain used the brass knocker thing twice. To be honest, you were hoping that no one was home - but in that house, it was pretty unlikely. After 30 seconds of getting drenched in the downpour, you were about to let yourself in with the spare key before the door swung open.

"Oh! Er Y/n?"

"Yeh um hi." You had to shout a bit over the sound of what must now be classified as a storm.

"Toms not-"

"I know. Can I come in?" As awkward and stunted as this conversation was, if you didn't get out of the rain asap you would literally end up drowned.

“Oh er yeh-yeh yeh come in.”

Harry stammered as he held the door open, gesturing for you to enter into the tiled hallway. Gratefully, you followed, throwing your sopping wet hood back down and wiping your feet on the floor.

"Sorry for just showing up, but I left some scripts here. My management are on my arse to read them and-"

"And you waited till Tom left for mum and dads?" The fluffy-haired boy has caught you red-handed; there was no defence, so you didn't even try.

Because yes, you knew on a Friday afternoon when Tom was home he would always, like clockwork, go to his parents just to kick back and watch gogglebox with both of them. It was only natural then that you chose Friday afternoon to come and pick up your stuff.

"I've been waiting in my car for half an hour till I saw him leave." Harry half laughed at that, still the two of you standing opposite each other in the hallway. "Um, do you… do you hate me Harry?"

Clearly, he hadn't quite been expecting your question going by the way his eyes almost bugged out his head.

"No, I-I, of course, I don't… look, I'm home alone so you fancy a cuppa?" Not being able to help the small chuckle, you nodded appreciatively, following Harry through the house.

"Your answer to everything is tea."

Harry had prepared the two mugs in silence as you sat at the table waiting patiently - if nervously too. You didn't miss how Harry had still used your favourite mug, having had to dig through the cupboard to find the weird square-shaped thing. Once done, he rounded the kitchen island and placed it in front of you, which you instantly cradled in two hands - for the hope of warming you up.

"You cold?" Obviously, it was pretty evident that sitting in your rain-soaked hoodie was not cosy at all. "Hang on a sec."

The boy sprung up again, returning moments later with a hoodie in hand, one he offered out to you with a little smile. The issue was that him and Tom shared clothes, so the hoodie he was kindly offering to you also had been worn by Tom before. Which made it hurt a little bit to wear. It was better than sitting soaked through though.

"How have you been then?"

"Not the best, to be honest, but uh… how about you?"

"Being with Tom while he's fighting with you? Oh, it's a barrel of laughs. You might've escaped it, but I haven't." He was trying to lighten the mood, and you appreciated it, offering him a half-smile that didn't really meet your eyes.

"Yeh sorry about that."

"Don't apologise; it doesn't sound like it's your fault Y/n."

That surprised you. Tom, especially when he was in moods like he was when you argued, wasn't one to admit when he was wrong. It was usually how the world was against him and how he was so hard done by. Accepting responsibility was something he hadn't said to you yet - but at least, small steps.

"He say that?"

"Pretty much… doesn't seem like he's angry at you, but-but he's still angry."

"At the world?" You rolled your eyes; this seemed to be the same old Tom through and through. Still immature. Still not with the right mindset.

"At himself." Harry countered, slightly entertained, when he saw the flash of surprise in your face as he sipped his drink. "And me… if I dare to so much as breathe this week."

This time you properly laughed, and Harry joined in too before the room fell back to silence - except the noise of the rain hitting the garden patio slats. You swirled the tea round in your mug, feeling the brunette's eyes on you. He'd always been your fake little brother too, since you'd met the Hollands way back 3 and a half years ago. Tom and yourself were barely adults, which meant the twins were still proper children. Harry had always been the one that understood you. Hollands, by nature, loved humans - loved to talk, to chat, to gossip. But sometimes, doing all that socialising got too much for you, as it did for Harry. He was the only one that seemed to understand social exhaustion. So when those moments had hit, you'd kept each other company in silence.

He got you, sometimes in ways your own boyfriend didn't.

"You know why he got so worked up, right?" You shook your head, looking up curiously. "Dad got under his skin on his birthday zoom thing."

Ah, now that did seem to coincide with the start of Tom's more petulant phase. To be fair, Tom had been asking to move in together for near enough a year now - but it was only in the past month it seemed to be the only thing you'd talk about and obviously only three days since the flight back. Dom's birthday barely a week ago, whilst you and Tom were both filming - except Tom had managed to get a day off where you hadn't. So you hadn't heard this conversation.

"What'd he say?"

"Was talking about how he and mum were settling down at Toms age, joked about how you rejected him, said maybe you were holding out for something better."

"Something better?" Harry sighed, leaning forward onto his elbows.

"He'd seen an article just off a trashy tabloid… it named you Hollywood's golden girl or something, said you could have the pick of any person on the planet…"

Of all the people in the world, why is Tom affected by shit journalism? He knows how much bullshit people write. He knows how it's all made up, exaggerated nonsense. And what he should know, completely and totally, is how much you love him. And if he didn't, was that your fault? Had you done something wrong, something to make him doubt you?

Harry seemed to notice the internal dialogue going on in your head, adding to the point. "It wasn't the article though, it was the fact dad said it."

Hmmm.

You and Dom got on; it wasn't like you hated the possible future father in law or whatever. Just…. you had very different outlooks. As much as Tom prided himself on how' grounded his family keeps him' -to you at least, they aren't entirely at sea level either. They'd never really had any particular struggles in life. They were the definition of middle class, and that's about it. They lived in a posh suburb of London, had all their family still around. It was the perfect family.

And whilst you were in no illusions about how privileged your life was now. It hadn't always been. You'd never had the 'nuclear' family. Instead, only your dad and a string of dodgy and fleeting stepmothers while struggling to make ends meet. So you were just always wary of Dom, of his opinions that so often his boys took for gospel. They always seemed pretty sheltered and close-minded.

And yet, Tom was a grown man.

"I get that, I just… Tom should know that we know more about our relationship than his dad. I mean,… have I done something wrong? Made him think I'm not in this for the long haul?"

"No nonono Y/n he's just… well he's an idiot, isn't he? I don't think he properly understands why you're cautious about moving and everything. He's just an idio- "

Harry was cut off for lightly insulting his brother by the sound of the front door opening, both of your heads swivelling towards the source. You then met Harry's eyes in a panic, to which he replied relatively simply.

"Just talk to each other. For my sake." You would've argued if it weren't for the fact you were so focused on Tom's shuffling around in the entrance hallway - back early from his parents.

"Baz? Where you at? I thought I saw Y/n's car and-"

"Kitchen!!!" Before Tom could say anything else, possibly landing himself in more trouble, Harry interrupted as his chair screeched while standing up. And then Tom was just there. Standing in the doorway, his arms dropping limply to his side as he noticed you. Everything about that moment seemed to freeze, when you locked eyes with him for the first time in three days. It didn't go unnoticed, the way his Adams apple bobbed, the way his eyes widen. The boy looked plain and simply terrified.

It was Harry who broke the silence, after giving you a stern look that said 'stay'. The younger Holland boy walked up to Tom and spoke.

"Try actually talking and actually listening about your problems with each other." And then he was gone, down the hallway and up the stairs.

For a few moments, Tom stayed absolutely stationary, now staring at where Harry had been when speaking to the both of you (but mainly Tom). Long enough to put your sense of unease at an all-time high, ready to make a break for it.

"If you don't want to talk, then I can leav-"

"NO!" Apparently snapping out of it, Tom exclaimed loud enough to make you flinch from your seat. "Sorry! I-I just… I wasn't expecting to… you know, to see you."

"Yeh I just uh- just came to pick up some scripts… Harry cornered me with a tea, though; otherwise, I'd be…."

"Baz thinks the whole world could be fixed with tea."

"that's what I said!" You instinctively responded, forgetting the fact you're supposed to be mad at him, and just for a second falling back into your normal flow.

Tom didn't even try to hide his grin in response, until you quickly corrected your face- then he did too. Turning around to put the kettle on for himself. Because right now, he needed to fix his whole world, and he needed all the help he could get. For a period, the only noise was the sound of the kettle boiling, then the teaspoon clinking against the mug as he stirred - until he padded over, taking the seat across from you.

"So."

"So."

"It's been a while," Tom stated the bloody obvious.

"You never called."

"Didn't think you'd want me to."

You thought that the early signs weren't all that auspicious. His ability to read a situation once again failing.

"I wanted you to say something."

"Say what?"

"What do you think Tom?" He replied to the sarcastic tone by sucking in a sharp breath, holding it for a second, before slowly exhaling. As if trying to compose himself, take time to think of a response - a mature move for him.

"Well, I think you want me to say sorry? For being so moody and not waiting for you and for upsetting those kids. And thanks too, for covering for me?"

You just hummed. Waiting for him to continue. Because yes, you did deserve all those things. But you also deserved more. An apology for, oh I don't know, saying he didn't think you loved him? It was a wait that never ended, he had nothing more to add.

"Going by your face, I take it I missed something?"

The bloody cheek of it.

"Theres nothing else? Nothing else at all? …" You gave him that chance, the opportunity but all he could respond with was a shake of his head. "You thought I was fine about you saying that I don't love you?" You hadn't intended on raising your voice, but really you hadn't realised you did till after the fact. To blinded by rage at his ignorance.

"You want to talk about this now?"

"When else Tom?" You sighed, realising he perhaps wasn't ready for this conversation. Maybe he needed more time to think things through, have sense talked into him by various wiser family members. Or maybe, he never would be. That was the worst-case scenario. But also… you're most likely prediction.

He shuffled in his seat, clearing his voice but not saying anything. Not a peep.

"I have spent three years of my life with you. I've had countless nights of too little sleep because that was the only time you could facetime. I've exposed my relationship to the world and people's opinions because you didn't want to hide. All I've done is love you. How could you even say that?" There might've been tears in your eyes, yet you were determined to keep them at bay. You needed to have this out, one way or another, to be clear and cohesive and logical. No time to cry.

"Y/n I know that, I…" He sighed, instinctively reaching for your hand, but you were quicker to pull it away. There was hurt in his eyes, but so there should be. "It just sometimes feels like that's it for you. That yeh you love me but you just want to standstill. That this is as much as it'll ever be."

Your emotions were suddenly uncontainable. Your voice croaked as you whispered, "Have I done something wrong?"

"No love, nonono if that's how you feel then that's okay. But it's something I'm not… shit this is hard." He took a pause to take a sip of his drink, your glazed eyes never leaving his. "I don't think I can stand still anymore. And yeh I was pissy and childish the other day because my dad got under my skin about the whole moving in thing… But these past few days, it just has got me thinking. Because I love you, so much."

This time when he reached out to grab your hand, you actually leaned into it yourself. Not because you were giving in, but because this hurt. This hurt so fucking much that you needed something to ground you, or else god knows. Because the way he was speaking, it sounded so finite.

"I love you too."

"I do know, which is…is why this is so hard." At the very least, Tom had conceded that.

The conversation ceased to silence yet again. The room felt so cold; even Tom/Harry's hoodie was doing nothing to keep you from the endless empty cold that seemed to be coming from within.

"When I re-registered my health card last month, and I made you my emergency contact on it. I-I made you my next of kin on everything actually. I didn't think about it twice. And-and this-"You pulled your phone out of your back pocket, immediately pulling up the app onto the open page. "This is my Pinterest board for our baby's nursery theme. I know-" You paused, to quickly wipe your cheeks clear of the tear tracks that may or may not have been there. "I know it's probably a long way away, but I just love the Scandinavian theme." You laughed at yourself, suddenly embarrassed at your blabbering and quickly pulled up a different app. "And this… this was from the other week when I was helping Y/bf/n start her vows." Hands trembling as you turned the phone around for Tom to see again. "She was finding it really tricky so she said, what would you say to Tom on your wedding, so-so I made this list." You only dared to look at him when you were sure he'd be reading through that note.

It was bizarre because he looked… well, he looked happy. Here you were feeling traumatised, showing things that you'd barely even deeped how committed they were - and he was pleased? Feeling the fire burn once again inside of your chest, you quickly swiped the phone away and back into your pocket. Only then did he look up, eyes widening - presumably at quite how psychotic you looked.

"So don't you dare say that I don't want a future with you."

You said it with such force, there was a pause. Tom letting those words sink deep into his brain. The way his expression flickered minutely gave you hope. You thought he got it. You thought he really understood now.

"But why don't you want to move in then?"

There it was again. He knew why. But he didn't get it. And, probably, he never would.

You were about to crash completely. So you ran. As fast as your legs could carry you, not even aware of your chair crashing to the floor in your wake. You ran out of that house and away from him. Away from who you had thought was the love of your life.

?give tom a final chance w one last part?

feedback is always v v appreciated <3

tom taglist : @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08

people i think might be interestd in this (sorry if not just let me know and i'll remove the tag!!!): @obiwanownsmyass @wildxwidow @parkersvogue @coffeewithoutcaffeine @tomhollandlol @thefallenbibliophilequote @clumsymandu @hiraethenthusiast @mannien @abrielleholland @evermorehabit @niallberry @greatpizzascissorstaco @runawayolives @annathesillyfriend @letsgotothemoonlight @lovelybarnes

[hyperfixated-gvf]

Stranger Danger

On the seventh day of Tropemas, hyperfixated-gvf gave to me:

A fluffy ‘pets in love’ with who else but Sammy?

Christmas Song Pairing: “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” by Andy Williams

~~~

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: Language, again - please don’t let strangers into your apartment

Words: 2.8k

You didn’t recognize the voice coming from the other side of your apartment door – not that you’d been expecting anyone in the first place, but a knock was a knock.

So it made sense to you to put your ear to the door, since your apartment complex obviously didn’t care enough about their tenants safety to install peep holes. You’d thought about getting a camera doorbell and installing it illegally, but honestly, you weren’t in it for the long haul, and you figured it would be the last bit of irony in your story should it be the reason you died.

“I swear, I am not at the right place. There’s no signs of a party, dude.”

Oof. Lost party boy. Perhaps drunk. But it’d be easy enough to just tell him he was at the wrong address and send him away.

You opened the door and had to bite your lip to keep from laughing. Because there stood a man dressed in the ugliest ugly sweater but with the cutest little dog sitting beside him, wagging its tail when it saw you.

The man took in your appearance – sweats and a t-shirt and fuzzy socks that you’d gotten as a gift the week before and probably covered in cat hair – and said, “Yeah, I’m definitely not in the right place. Text me the address again and I’ll see you later,” into the phone and then hung up, letting the silence stretch for a second.

“Welp, sorry for the intrusion. I hope you like ugly sweaters, and – fuck, Rosie, wait!”

The cute little dog’s ears had pricked up and her nose twitched just once before she was gone – out of her owner’s grasp and through your legs and into your apartment.

“Shit, dude, I have a cat!” you exclaimed, turning to try to catch the dog by her leash, but she was small and quick and your cat – who had snuck up behind you like the curious bitch she was – was leading the chase over furniture and under tables. The man entered your apartment to help catch his dog, and while normally, you’d be suspicious, you weren’t sure if his dog was good with cats or if she’d – at least you assumed it was a she by her name – kill your baby if she caught her.

“Rosie, Rosie, stop –”

“I don’t think she’s listening,” you snarked as you almost caught her, but she wriggled her way out of the precarious hold.

Your cat darted behind the couch and your cursed, knowing exactly where she was going, and tried to push the couch flush against the wall before the dog could follow, but aborted the action when she got there first, not wanting to hurt either animal.

You tugged at the piece of furniture instead. “Help me with this,” you instructed the stranger, and he did so willingly, apologizing profusely.

“I am so sorry, she’s only a puppy and she usually listens pretty well, but she’s never been around cats before.”

You scoffed. “Well, if she kills my cat, buddy, it’s gonna be messy.”

The man paled, but you finally got the couch out enough where you could dart around to the back, examining the small hole your cat used as an entrance to her little hideout, except it had been torn open a little bigger – not by much, the puppy was pretty small. Which meant if she was attacking your cat, there would be more noise.

You sighed and sat back in relief. “I don’t think they’re killing each other in there. My cat’s pretty spunky and almost as big as your puppy, so she’d stand up for herself.” You considered the hole, unfortunately being on one side of the long, three-cushioned couch and your cat’s hiding place on the other end.

“I really don’t think Rosie would hurt her, but she’s just a baby – I honestly don’t know what they’re doing in there if not just sniffing each other.”

Your mind turned and then you shot up, opening up the closet where you kept your cat things and brought out a bag of her food and favorite treats.

“Hang on,” you said, shaking the food bag. “Here kitty, kitty. Want a snack? I got some food, or some treats,” you offered, listening for any rustle of movement.

The man shook his head on the other side of the couch. “Nothing.”

“Damn,” you frowned, “I thought that was gonna work.”

“I’d try with treat of my own but I didn’t bring any tonight.”

You rejoined him on the ground. “I can’t reach her from here, do you think you could see if you can feel your dog’s leash?”

“Yeah, let me just…” You moved out of the way for him and his contorted his body to get the best reach, feeling along the bottom and making faces as he went. He saw you watching and grimaced. “It’s really dirty back here and I don’t like touching things I can’t see,” he explained, and while you could relate, you still weren’t a fan of this man, and his observation of the cleanliness of the inside of your couch rubbed you the wrong way.

“Yes, because I’m sure the inside of your couch is spic and span. Maybe if you had better grip strength and control over your dog, we wouldn’t be in this situation. What’s your name?”

“Sam,” he said, offense coloring his voice. “And my grip strength is perfectly adequate, thank you very much. What’s yours?”

You wanted to stick you tongue out at him so bad. But you were an adult, dammit. Still, you did it anyways while he was focused on his task. “Y/N.”

He grunted as he reached as far as he could in, straining his shoulder to get further, but all the sudden, there was a hiss and a yowl and Sam’s eyes went wide and panicked. “Ow! Fuck, fuck, ouch, get off get off get off you demon animal!” he screeched, withdrawing his arm, and you couldn’t help but smirk at his pain.

He glared at you, having caught your expression this time, rubbing his scratched hand. “This is why dogs are so much better.”

You put your hands out. “Says the owner of the dog that started it.” You shook your head and stood up, looking down at the man and noticed the scratch had started to bleed. “Now come here, we gotta fix up your cat scratch.”

The man fixed you with an expression of wariness. “I have to get going, though,” he whined.

You scoffed. “What, to an ugly Christmas sweater contest you’ll win by a landslide? And without your dog? Because I will charge you for pet-sitting if you leave her here.”

You knew it was unlikely anything would come from the cat scratch, but you didn’t want to take your chances, and you doubted the animals were going to come out when you were both at the entrance, pettily arguing and taking jabs at one another.

Sam pursed his lips and took one last glance toward the hole in the couch material. “And we can’t just tear it the rest of the way?”

The couch didn’t hold any particular value to you – you bought it secondhand off Facebook marketplace, but still – it was your couch, and you liked that your cat had somewhere to go when she wanted to.

“I mean, I think they’ll come out if we just leave them be for a bit, so if you’ll slap some antibacterial ointment on that scratch, I’m gonna make some hot chocolate,” you paused for a second, remembering you still had a bottle of Bailey’s. “Actually, some Irish hot chocolate, and we’ll give ‘em 15 minutes to come out. If they aren’t out by then…I guess we’ll just have to tear it open.”

Sam pushed himself up off the ground and sighed. “Fine. Could I have some hot chocolate too? Also, do you have any milk substitutes? I’m vegan.”

You frowned at him, but your irritation was minimal now that you knew your cat wasn’t gonna die. “For a stranger in my house, you sure ask for a lot.” You went to retrieve the first aid kit from the bathroom.

“You won’t get what you don’t ask for,” he said distantly.

You put the ointment on the table and then went into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator with the knowledge that you did have oatmilk because you preferred it to dairy.

“I have oatmilk, but my Bailey’s is the regular, so it’s not vegan.”

Sam cursed, but you weren’t sure if it was from the sting of the ointment or because you didn’t have vegan Bailey’s.

“Do you have any other liquor?”

Your bottles clinked together as you shifted them, but you did catch sight of a red and white bottle near the back. “Oh! I have peppermint vodka, would that work?”

“Perfect,” he said, joining you in the kitchen.

You hummed in response and poured the milk into a couple of mugs, sticking them into the microwave and trying to offset the awkwardness of staring at a literal stranger.

“So, uh…sorry, again. Like, you definitely could have kicked my sorry ass out and called animal control on Rosie, and I really appreciate you being chill about it.”

There was a small spot of dried food stuck onto the counter and you picked at it with your fingernail. “Eh. I heard you outside the door, talking to your friend, so I figured it really was just an accident. Also, to devise a plan of this magnitude and detail, you’d have to really want something. I don’t have anything valuable here, and you’re a good looking guy, I’m sure you could go to any bar around this town and pick someone up.”

He bobbed his head up and down and the silence became awkward again.

You didn’t say anything until the microwave went off, and then handed Sam a spoon and put the container of cocoa mix between the two of you.

“Thanks,” he said, clearing his throat and dipping his spoon into the mix.

You followed after he took his utensil out. “You’re welcome. So is your friend going to be mad that you’re late to your party?” You put another half-scoop into your milk and then started stirring, adding Bailey’s as the last step.

You’d been watching him makes his hot chocolate, and he’d only put one scoop in, which was blasphemy in your opinion.

Sam laughed, but it was rather short. “Eh. I’ll text him and tell him I won’t make it due to extenuating circumstances. Like you said, I’d have won the sweater contest by a landslide, so what’s the point?”

You smiled and sipped your drink, grateful for the warmth trickling down your throat and spreading into your chest – which you hadn’t realized was still tight from the chase scare.

“No offense, but you seem like the type to like to party.”

“You don’t,” he retorted, taking a big gulp of his still-hot drink but not flinching.

“Uhh…no, you’re right, I don’t. Not my scene, really.”

“I mean, I like alcohol, and alcohol is usually the scene,” he admitted, glancing at you and then letting his eyes wander again, “but the party is situational. Bad parties are bad parties, and my guy on the phone would have been one of the only people I knew there, which isn’t that fun.”

There was movement from the couch, and you and Sam locked eyes before creeping over, peeking around but not seeing any sign of either animal.

“Damn,” you said over the rim of your mug, “I thought I’d be able to kick you out, finally,” you joked.

Sam took a drink and stuck his tongue out at you. “We wouldn’t be here if you’d just let me slice that old thing open.”

You scoffed. “We’ve been over this, and agreed that it was your fault, so don’t be ‘wouldn’t be in this situation’-ing to me, buster. Besides, after we finish these drinks, I’ll just cut my losses and –”

“Hehe, cut your losses, get it?”

You stared at him and blinked, taking a long drink instead of answering him right away. “I’m going to need to finish your drink immediately and leave.”

He sent you a cheeky grin and kept the eye contact as he tilted his mug back the rest of the way, draining it. “Done.”

Your eyes narrowed and you copied him, letting the drink slide down throat and then put the mug on the coffee table, leaving Sam grinning at you went to retrieve the box cutter that resided in a kitchen drawer.

Once you found it, you circled the couch, finding Sam patting the thin material. “I can’t even feel them anymore. Unless you want to have a sleepover, I think we’re going to have to slice it.”

You frowned and pouted, really not wanting to perform surgery on your couch. But he was right; you were going to have to if you had any hope at getting your pets back before sunrise.

“Sorry, couch,” you said regretfully, but pinched the material in your fingers and made a small slit, not wanting to slice it open like a box just in case either animal was within reach. “Here, try to pull the material out as much as you can, I don’t want to accidentally nick someone.”

Sam followed directions and pinched what material he could, and you used the opening you’d made to start carefully working your way down.

You and Sam worked in tandem for a few minutes, stopping so that he could get a better hold every so often, until you finally made a cut large enough to peek inside.

“Oh,” you said. “I certainly didn’t expect that.” Sam pushed in, trying to see what you were seeing. “Hey!” you protested.

“I wanna see,” he complained, lifting the flap of material. “Oh. Aw. That’s so cute.”

You were both just watching through the opening, your cat wrapped around a sleeping Rosie, eyes closed and lazily licking her head. She blinked them open at the sound of your voice, but closed them again just as quickly.

“Well,” you said, hesitantly hovering your hand at the entrance, “I guess we should get them out of there.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Sam said, just as hesitantly, phone out and taking a photo of them.

They were just so cute together.

“You’ll send me those pictures, right?” you murmured, not wanting to wake the animals.

Sam chuckled quietly. “If you give me your number.”

You tilted your head, but didn’t look at him. “Smooth.”

“Pretty sure you’re the one who came onto me there.”

It was obvious neither of you wanted to move your respective pet, so you sighed and pulled back. “Well, I mean, if you’re not going to that party anymore…I was going to put on the Hallmark channel before you interrupted my evening.”

He made a face and scoffed. “Your evening of bad dialogue and unrealistic circumstances? Sounds more like we saved you than interrupted you.”

“Oh please,” you scoffed right back, “you’re not one of those guys who’s pretentious about pop culture because you think it makes you better than everyone else, are you?”

Sam tossed his hair back, shaking it out dramatically. “Sweetheart, I know I’m better than everyone else. I’m pretentious about pop culture merely because I can be.”

You got up, going back into the kitchen. “I can’t tell if I’m going to hate you or if you’re going to be my new best friend, since my cat obviously replaced me.” Sam laughed from the living room.

“Most people start out with one and shift to the other as they get to know me. No telling which is which, though.”

You poured yourself a cup of water and saw a bag of candy one of your friends had left the last time they visited and smirked, wanting to pull this guy’s chain and just make sure he wasn’t here for the wrong reasons.

“Hey Sam?”

“What,” he said warily. He obviously heard the smirk in your tone.

“You wanna kiss?”

Silence. You listened carefully.

“Is this some sort of test?” he said finally.

“No,” you called out, grabbing the bag and reappearing in the living room. Sam’s eyes fell to your hands. “It’s a type of chocolate?”

He groaned and rolled his eyes. “Awful. Just awful.”

You shrugged. “Just wanted to make sure you weren’t gonna put any of the moves on me. The Hallmark channel can make you lonely. Is that why you don’t like it? Because it reminds you of your mortality?”

Sam gave you a look. “It the fucking Hallmark channel, damn. Does it remind you of your own mortality? Are you projecting?”

You stuck your tongue out at him for real this time and he did it right back, but you sat on the ground next to him anyways, and he slid his phone over to you, contact page pulled up. You smirked at him and he shrugged.

“I mean, our pets have a special bond, I might as well put your number in.”

You didn’t let him know how willing you were to do so.

~~~

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