#keeping this ring on my finger TILL I DIE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

revasserium · 9 months ago

Note

A request for the prompt "Stolen kisses" + Zayne!! Thank you so much :D

also I love your writing SOO much <3

prompt list reqs are: temporarily closed

49. stolen kisses

zayne; 1,720 words; fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", whipped!zayne, implied sex, but still very saucy, zayne is hornee 24/7 and hes not afraid to show it

summary: 3 kisses, some stolen, others willingly given

a/n: i believe in my heart of hearts that zayne is barely keeping it together around the mc

one. After dinner, when the pair of you are cleaning up and your sleeves rolled up to your elbows, his arms snaking around your waist to pull you back into him as he presses a kiss to your neck before trailing his lips up to your cheek. Your laughter rings through the kitchen, folding around the pair of you like wings. His smile is soft, is radiant, is tender and absolute as he pulls back to regard you with his searching eyes.

“Good dinner?” he asks.

“The best,” you answer, grinning as you trail a finger along his jaw to tangle your fingers in his hair.

“Good…” he breathes the word against your cheek, leaning in, the ends of his bangs tickling the skin of your face. You make to pull back, but his arms loop tighter around your waist, pressing you close, holding you against the solid cool of the marble countertop.

“But we haven’t yet had dessert.”

Heat flushes up your neck and up, up, up till you can feel your face burning, as you blink up at him from beneath your lashes, feigning innocence.

“I didn’t know we had dessert planned on the menu.”

His grin goes sideways, his eyes taking on a darker, more dangerous light.

“It’s not always planned but…” his voice trails off as a tingling shiver races up your spine, “It is always… considered.”

And then, he leans in to kiss you — and he kisses you with a hunger that has nothing to do with the scrumptious meal you’ve just shared and everything to do with the pulsing heat coalescing between your bodies as he lifts you up onto the counter.

He kisses you like he wants to ruin your mouth for all other tastes but him; he kisses you as if he’s already been ruined by the taste of you.

two. It is unprofessional; you know — and so does he — to do this here, with your back pressed against the wood of his office door, his white coat slipping off his shoulders, his glasses nearly knocked askance by the force of this kiss.

You’d always known that just beneath his smooth, tempered glass facade is the kind of roiling heat that makes up the heart of the earth, the kind of passion that licked at the mouths of volcanoes and rends the sky into nothing but a devastation of ashes.

But here, now, the only rending is his fingers pressing into the dip of your waist, the only devastation his tongue as it traces along the inside of your teeth. You hear yourself make a low, wanton noise and feel him react, his fingers tightening impossibly, his mouth ever and ever more demanding.

“Z-Zayne… we —” but the words die on your lips as he drops his to the bare skin of your neck. You can’t help the gasp that tumbles from your mouth, nor the sudden flash of memory — crystal clear and sharp, as if carved from ice — of the night before, when he had sunk his teeth into your bare shoulder and twisted your hair with trembling fists. It had been pain and impossible, improbable passion. All urge and fire, desperation and need.

“Shhh…” Zayne murmurs against your skin, groaning softly as he finds your lips with his own again. And you are helpless all over again. Weak against the burning need of his embrace.

A soft knock shocks both of you from the frenzied passion soaking through your bones, threatening to blot out your good sense entirely. You pull apart, gasping. From the other side of the door comes the muffled voice of a nurse -

“Dr. Zayne? Your next patient is here. Shall I let him in?”

Zayne hisses out another breath before pulling away.

“Yes, just give me five minutes - finishing a report.”

You can't help the amused grin that tugs across your lips as the both of you make to tidy the slight mess you've made.

“So… I'm a report now, am I?”

But Zayne only regards you with a light, challenging look, quirking his brows.

“No.”

You blink, confused. Then Zayne smiles.

“We’re nowhere near finished.”

A fresh wave of heat crests up into your cheeks as you purse your lips, casting your eyes anywhere but Zayne's pleased face.

“Unprofessional,” you accuse, through the word lacks any vehemence, marred by the extensive blush still coloring your cheeks.

Zayne straightens his impeccably pressed white doctor's coat before taking three swift steps into your space, his chest nearly pushing against yours. He reaches out to tilt your chin up towards him and you feel a hitched breath caught like an insect in amber, suspended perfectly between your lungs and your throat.

Slowly, Zayne draws his thumb across the plush of your bottom lip. You feel his breath fanning across it like a wave of summer heat, found at the heart of winter itself.

“Only in front of you.”

He pulls away just as another gentle knock comes at the door, the nurse's voice announcing the arrival of Zayne's next patient. Zayne casts you one last lingering, meaningful look before gently nudging you aside to pull open the door, the vision of a young and promising doctor as he greets his patient with a small smile, the other hand guiding you towards the opened door.

"Don't forget to take your supplements,” he chides in a voice just gentle enough to inform polite company of his fondness for you, but nothing in it would hint at the indiscretions that had been committed only minutes prior.

"Okay,” you say, ducking your head as you brush by the middle- aged man blinking at the pair of you.

"And… see you at home.”

You only manage a nod and a squeak as the nurse chuckles behind her hand and the middle- aged man makes a soft noise of understanding.

three. You are both eighteen, and teetering on the edge of adulthood — though he’s already well on his way to stardom.

“Congrats — on the Starcatcher Award —“ you feel your throat catch around the words, and suddenly, your mouth is dry, your cheeks hot, your fingers twisting behind your back as you rock on the balls of your feet.

Zayne watches you, his expression thoughtfully blank, but his eyes — they’ve always been his tell. You meet them and search them and feel the fire caught behind them. His Evol might be ice, but… his soul has always been something that burns.

“Thanks,” he says, and you can almost taste the unsaid words bubbling just at the back of his throat. You wish he would tell you, but there’s a depthless chasm cut into the air between the pair of you, rough and jagged and —

“Do you know what I received the award for?”

You blink, startled. You purse your lips, looking away. It’d been too painful, too much to look into it, the knowledge of his brilliance always nipping at your heels like an unruly dog. It had pushed you forward, yes, but only out of the fear that if you let up even one single step, he’d race too far ahead and… leave you behind.

“N-no — I haven’t —“

“For my research on congenital heart defects in infants.”

The world slows, tunnels, and tilts around you. Your eyes jerk up to meet his and there — you see it, the blistering heart of all his so-called fire — and you remember suddenly that if it’s cold enough, the body starts to process the sensation as heat. That ice and fire are not so different.

That ice can also burn.

You find your own hands clutched just above where your heart beats inside your chest and you see his eyes flicker down towards them.

“Zayne —“

“I start work at a clinic next week.”

A frown creases at your temple.

“Our first appointment is on Tuesday.”

Your frown deepens.

“What do you —“

“To qualify for the Hunter Program, you need a medical verification of fitness. And… a primary care physician.”

At these last words, his eyes finally cut away. And here, in the dying light of his brand new living room, the sunset turns his glasses opaque for just a second. You’re left blinking in the aftermath of that light, the afterimages will be stained behind your eyelids for hours after — just that look, the firm line of his shoulders, the determined set of his mouth, his jaw, the softness in his fingers as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering against the bend of your cheek.

“L-Lying on reports would be a medical malpractice suit waiting to happen,” you say, your voice shaking with either delirium or emotion, you’re not sure which.

Zayne quirks an eyebrow, “I have no plans on lying.”

“But —“ your fingers clench at your chest.

“I’m just… confident in my own skills, that’s all.”

The shadow of a grin twists his lips and he turns back to you, his eyes cast in threads of molten gold.

“Oh… of course,” you let out a soft breath of laughter, toppling back into the sofa and tossing your arm across your eyes. A moment later, you feel the cushions of the sofa sink beside you.

“Hey, look at me.”

You drop your arm and turn, your head still pillowed against the back of the sofa. Zayne’s gaze flickers over every aspect of your face before he reaches out to take your hand in his. Slowly, he leans down to press his lips to your knuckles, letting his lips linger there till you make a soft, questioning noise at the back of your throat.

He looks back up with a knowing smile.

“Shall we get something to eat?”

You jump to your feet, “Y-yes! My treat — a congratulations gift!��

Zayne considers for a moment before sighing, “Alright, but just this once.”

“What, we’re not allowed to go out to dinner now that you’re a certified doctor?”

Zayne’s mouth twitches with amusement as he reaches for his coat.

“No, we’ll still go out for dinner — you’re just no longer allowed to pay for them.”

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madridfangirl · 15 days ago

Text

Dichotomy

(Jude Bellingham Blurb)

Set post the Girona away game (24/25). Jude texts with his gf after the match.

..................................................................................................

After the win, Jude skipped to the dressing room & found a message from his girlfriend.

'Riddle me something?'

He sat down in front of his locker & started typing.

'What? Also, no 'congrats' or 'you were amazing' or 'I'm proud of you'?'

'Congrats. You were amazing. I'm proud of you.'

'Gee thanks. Now, riddle you what?'

She sent him the two photos.

'How are these the same person? In a span of 5 mins? What is this dichotomy?'

'Erm what?'

'Like how do you go from barking orders on the pitch & dominating everyone (including your own teammates at times) to these toddler antics?'

'Toddler what?'

'You looked like my 3 year old nephew wrapped in those blankets asking for a cup of hot chocolate on a cold winter night.'

'Is that your way of saying I looked cute?'

'🤷‍♀️'

'IT WAS COLD AF! Like, you play half naked and tell me you don't need blankets after. Even my fingers were frozen.'

She could almost hear the whine even in his text.

'You even sound like my nephew now. Also, people would pay 10x the money to see you play half naked so stop being so dramatic.'

'Whatever.'

'Awww.'

'Don't do that.'

'You know what I do when my nephew throws tantrums like this?'

'What? Also, this ain't a tantrum.'

She refused to even address the second part of the sentence.

'I give him his favorite treats, snuggle with him under a cozy blanket, pamper him endlessly till he giggles and jumps on me happily.'

That got his attention.

'I won't mind that.'

' Yeah?'

'Yeah am hurt & cold & sad. Need some cheering up.'

'Sad? You just won the match AND the MOTM.'

'Those things can go together.'

'Ofcourse.'

'So I'll come to yours from the airport? Will be late in the night but....tomorrow is Sunday.'

'Yeah you can come.'

'Coool.'

5 seconds later he was typing again.

'Something was said about fav treats?'

'What do you want?'

'Hot chocolate. Some fries. And you.'

'Yes. Yes. And no.'

'?????'

'I'm on my period you loon.'

'Thought you were already done?'

'No it's still day 5.'

'Universe keeps conspiring against me.'

'Sure. Me having to go through this tremendous discomfort every month is universe conspiring against you.'

'Obviously.'

'Whatever.'

'Now who's being a kid?'

'Still you.'

'Seriously you're sure it's day 5?'

She could practically hear his whining ringing in her ear.

'I don't know how to answer that.'

'Fine.'

Jude packed up his bag & got on the team bus without taking a shower. The staff reminded him but he refused, saying he'd die if he goes near water right now. They just smiled back and let him be. But some teammates gave him some stick which he didn't give two hoots about.

What he did give two hoots about was being outmaneuvered by his girlfriend. Even against her he didn't like losing, not even remotely.

He sat in the back, watched the team celebrating upfront but refused to move (again, too cold). Pulling out his phone, he re-read the exchange and sent her a quick message.

'Riddle me this?'

Her curiosity was piqued.

'Yes?'

Jude went straight for the kill. Typing without gloves was an effort & he wanted to save energy.

'How come you like me all aggressive & dominant on the pitch but not in bed? What is this dichotomy?'

When she didn't respond for 30 seconds, he mock-teased.

'Earth to dove, you there?'

'You are...those things...in bed also.'

'Not enough.'

'So...what else would you...you know?'

'Naa would rather show you tomorrow night.'

'Maybe tell me a bit? So I can...wrap my head around it?'

'Telling is no fun. Doing is.'

'Judeee.'

It was her turn to whine. He smiled at the screen.

'I like it when you are a bit nervous & on edge. The sounds you make then>>>'

'You're insufferable. And shameless.'

'Sure. Getting on the flight in 5. See you in under 2 hours. Prepare the treats that are rightfully mine. Mwahhh.'

'BYE.'

'And dove?'

'What??'

'I love you.'

Just like that, all her irritation / nerves fizzled away. And she couldn't wait for him to come to her, so she could wrap him up in a blanket and spoil him silly.

..........................................................................

He deserves all the spoiling and pampering :)

Hope you liked it!

#jude bellingham #real madrid #bellingham #jude #jb5 #jb #jude bellingham smut #jude fanfic #bellingham x reader #star crossed lovers #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham blurb #desi girl #jude bellingham angst #jude fic

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kiwanopie · 2 years ago

Note

I’m on my knees begging for more kiyoomi 🧎🏽‍♀️it doesn’t even have to crime kiyoomi. I’ll accept anything. Also I love your writing, keep up the good work!

Honeymoon

lovesick crime lord!Kiyoomi x reader

cw: smut smut smut. oral (f!receiving), slight dub-con, choking, spit, dumbifaction, praise, obsessive lovesick thoughts, talks of breeding, creampie, PnV sex, multiple orgasms. Pure filth

wc: 3.7k

“Kiyoomi-” You shudder as he presses himself against you. “Is… consummating the first night really necessary…?”

Kiyoomi lifts his back to look at you more directly. Eyes a little glazed over and way too far gone to have only just slipped you out of your reception dress.

“If you really don’t want to, we don’t have to.” He breathes. “Just… let me have a little more of you, or else I might actually die.”

And he might just mean it. He’s been wound up tight since the two of you kissed at the altar. Passing lingering touches during talks with your families, holding you closer than ever during the couple’s dance, hell, you were surprised he didn’t leave a handprint on your dress, with how heavily his hand had been latched to your thigh all evening. It’s not like this is the first time the two of you have had sex. - Hell, with how often you were getting the seats wet in his car these past few days leading up to this, you were almost afraid he’d be a little over it.

But now you’re his wife. Now you’re a Sakusa. All his and he now all yours and that pretty rock on your finger matching the wedding band on his. - Your name’s engraved into the inner finish of his ring unlike the little love note he left on yours. Protruding letters somewhat so it scrapes a bit whenever he inches it up, and you’re not ashamed to say it’s a little butterfly-inducing to see your name all but carved into his left finger.

He wants you more than he thinks he can take. He feels like a teenager about to lay his crush on prom night. You’re so pretty in the flickering candlelight that he thinks he might actually throw up.

So in lieu of ruining the mood by anointing you in wedding cake chunks, Kiyoomi instead dips his head to pour a few slow kisses down your throat line. “Let me make you feel good if nothing else. That's all I want.”

“Just to make me feel good?“

“Whatever you want,” He suckles in a bruise, and you reward him with a sound that makes his face hot. “Just let me make you cum. I wanna hear you cum for me, angel.”

You shiver under his molten kisses. Goosebumps climbing up your arms as his loving hands caress anything worth caressing and honestly starting to feel just as amped up as he is. This guy’s frenzied. Hair standing up on his arms when you reach up to toy with the little curls on the low of his nape and wrap your legs around him like you want him to melt into you.

The bulge in his suit pants is so prominent that he’s one good touch from just ripping through the vacuna. You’re gracious enough to grant him permission with a soft ‘please’ that almost sends him over the edge, and without a moment to stutter, he dives in gratefully.

Kiyoomi’s lips are sensuous and tender as he presses them against yours. Firm grip keeping your jaw fixed in his direction as he peppers loving kisses between lecherous ones and sucking your bottom lip in his mouth until they’re over-kissed and swollen - every taste of your lips sends him further off the deep end.

You whimper in his mouth. His callous hand grabs a hefty handful of one of your breasts and teases over your covered nipple with his thumb until they’re erect and pointed proudly through your négligée. His breaths feel almost winded. Just being able to touch you like this after all day is sending him into a frenzy. To be completely honest, he’s spent most of the day counting the seconds till he could finally whisk you away into your lover’s suite. And even still, with you so close his mouth waters in anticipation.

He pulls the strap of your slip until the entirety of those pretty tits are exposed to the conditioned hotel air; he barely wastes a second sucking one of your nipples into his mouth while he toys with the other one.

You croon. You hate how good Kiyoomi is at making you feel so wanted without even trying. Arching your back until you're feeding your breasts into his greedy mouth, you dig thin crescents into the bicep of his arm without even thinking.

Or recognizing all those pretty sounds you’re making. Kiyoomi fondles you down the path of your slip, squeezing and groping anything he can get his hands on as he slides your nipple out of his mouth with a lewd pop! And wraps his lips over the other as he finally finds the little hem of your gown.

He wants to make you feel good. It’s easy to forget who you’ve got on top of you right now. A man responsible for the suffering of too many people to count and too many problems in this nation that only he can benefit from. Immoral, corrupt, inimical things. So bad it could make you sick. - Kissing down your stomach and leaving hot trails in his wake as he goosebumps from how overwhelmed he is at being this close. This personal - He’s this loving.

And you’d be stupid to expect he meant anything less than that from him. - It’s hard enough to comprehend the fact that he means it when he says he loves you this much. Means it when he says he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. Means it when he says he’d rather die than be with anyone else. Being propositioned straight into a marriage with a man known for being notoriously cruel and callous kind of negates those typical feelings of sureness. A man who’s only recognized by his cold stare, inability to find satisfaction in the most faultless of things, and so wrought with endless power that the entirety of Asia can do no more but bow to him. A boogeyman - for as long as you’ve known about him. Even in living with him, you see his callous nature and pray to never find yourself on the receiving end of it. But when he looks at you, he’s different. When he looks at you, speaks to you, speaks of you, he’s -

He groans at the way your wetness soaks up your pretty panties. Lovesick.

You more or less instinctively hump into his hand as he starts to rub in lovesome circles. Lewdly adjusting the movements of his hand in various circling and up and down motions that saturate your panties till they’re drenched in your slick. Honestly, if he keeps at it you might just cum from that alone.

Kiyoomi must hear it in the way your airy breaths have started to pitch because right as he just about brings you to the edge - he stops.

He’s positioning himself at the apex of your legs before you can even protest.

His lips are molten as he kisses up your supple thighs, fingers blistering as he caresses your plush skin staunchly. Every tender press of his lips is more gluttonous than the last, humming in between the smack of your cosseted skin the closer he gets to your hot center.

Your tits rise and fall as you pant at the anticipation; even in your apprehension does the way he fondles you give you goosebumps.

Kiyoomi presses a slow kiss to your covered slit. He all but buries his face in it as he groans at the mere sampling of your cassonade juices. Making out with your pussy through your ruined panties and riling himself up even more than he originally meant to. Whatever he anticipated you tasting like was an insult to how phenomenal the reality is as he sucks through the cotton. He swears he might just finish in his pants the moment he gets the real thing on his tongue.

His breaths shudder as he reaches over your hips to gingerly pull your panties down your legs, raising up to press chaste kisses on the “V” of your pelvis as they slide wetly down your legs, and he can barely brace himself when he spreads your thighs and bares your flower to his hungry eyes.

Kiyoomi sucks in a tight breath.

“S-Shit,” He licks his lips. “Look how fucking perfect you are.”

He shivers at the way you visibly tighten up at the praise. A bead of your glittery slick wets the carnelian in the hotel divan. Rightfully, he grieves it. - Something so delectable shouldn’t be wasted on some crummy furniture. It should be pouring over his tongue and lining the walls of his lungs like it lawfully deserves.

You shiver as his heated breaths blow feverishly over your exposed cunt. Jumping a bit when you feel his fingers spread your lips apart to bare you to him fully.

And then his tongue is lapping up your clit.

The conjoined sounds of your surprise and his mind-numbing bliss bump into one another and flutter into the open air. He’s so devotedly slurping up your pretty pussy that you almost consider this is more for him than you. I mean, he’s tonging up your cunt so messily that it almost feels hoggish. The wet sounds of his sloshing tongue turn your ears hot as you start to mindlessly hump into his face, already so overwhelmed by the pleasure that your head’s gone all fuzzy.

Kiyoomi moans into your sloppy pussy as you start to card your fingers through his hair, drunkenly humping into the seat of the divan as he dips his tongue into your sweet little hole.

You trill at that intoxicating feeling of irresistible bliss. “F-…Fuck! Ah…H-Holy shit…”

He sloppily drags his tongue up your open cunt to suck your clit into his mouth, suckling on it tenderly till he’s sliding it from between his lips, and lapping it up all over again.

God, if he keeps going at you like this you’re gonna fucking cum. It’s like his tongue is heating up the more he goes at it - so sloppy with his cunt flavored spit that it makes a puddle that pools along your backside. He’s eating you out like it’s all he’s meant to do.

You outright whine when he pulls away for a pensive second, cooing to you as he sucks your slick from his lips and rubs his fingers in quick circles over your swollen clit.

Kiyoomi asserts breathlessly. “Let me see that pretty face, baby.”

You raise on your elbows a little dazedly. Spaghetti straps pulled up to maintain your dignity from his earlier ministrations falling again over your shoulders in a way he could only describe as mouthwatering. The differing color of your areola peeks from the disarrayed fabric of your little slip, and the hazy look in your eyes makes you look more beautiful than he can rationally take.

He wants to pour himself over you and let you wear him like a second skin. He salivates at the way your clit throbs under his fingers. “Keep your eyes on me.”

Kiyoomi swivels his hand until his middle finger is lined up with your hole. “I don’t want you to miss this.”

Your face cinches lewdly when he eases his finger in and pumps it a few times, and you whimper when he pulls back to add another finger. But the way you gape as he bends his neck to flatten his tongue against your clit, and shiver under the extended eye contact, it's enough to make him feel like near cumming untouched. You’re starting to drive him too crazy.

But he doesn’t know the half of it until you reach for his scalp again. Carding your fingers through and then tugging, his stomach butterflies as you wantonly throw your head back, and he groans as one of your legs lifts just over his shoulder.

But then you’re moaning out into the air. “Fuck. Fuck! Fuck me, Kiyoomi! Fuck me! Fuck me!”

That’s what pushes him over the edge.

Kiyoomi’s grunting into your cunt like a love-drunk whore as his eyes roll and he falls into that beatific bliss. He’s pistoning his fingers into your squelching cunt like his life depends on it, lapping you up like it’s the only thing keeping him living. Raunchily he makes out with your pussy until you're falling on your back and holding onto his hair for dear life, suffocating him, but he couldn’t be any more thrilled about it. Giving his breath to the woman delivering him into such mind-breaking pleasure is the least he can do. Especially when your thighs tighten over his ears, and you’re fucking into his mouth like it’s all he’s good for.

He’s hard as a rock before he even finishes his initial orgasm, moaning into your cunt as he brings his free hand up to belt you even more firmly against his face. And he almost falls over the edge again when he realizes you’re cumming.

“Yes! Yes! Ffffuck! Oh my god! Fuck, Omi! Fuck. So good! It’s so good, baby!”

If his balls get any tighter, they might explode.

Kiyoomi fucks his tongue and fingers into you ruthlessly as you ride out your orgasm on his face. No doubt singing loud enough that anybody walking parallel to the suite would hear it clear as day, but he relishes in it. Unabashed as he moans into your spasming cunt and indulges himself until you’re whimpering from the overstimulation. He just barely comes up for air when his lungs start to burn from the lack of oxygen.

You pant into the room as your body finally goes limp. You’re shaking. Legs quivering at his sides and struggling to catch your breath. The amount of pleasure you’re still coming down from makes the underlying haze all the more sweeter. - But you don’t even get the chance to revel in it when he’s already hovering over your fucked out form.

Kiyoomi’s lips are so tinged with you that it’s almost all you can taste. He kisses you with such frenzied fervor that you have to holster your hands on his shoulders to keep him at bay.

He breathes into your lips. “You did so good for me, angel. So fucking good,” You can hear his belt clinking between you both. “I love you so much. Fuck. I love you so much.”

You pant into the air as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. He’s so solid and all-encompassing that he’s all you can focus on right now. “Kiyoomi, you’re- Fuck, you gotta-“

You squeal when the tip pops in.

Even after all this time it still stretches you out to an almost painful degree. Pulsing as Kiyoomi pushes in, so hot and heavy that it feels like he’s tearing you apart from the inside. He groans so drunkenly in your ear that it nearly makes you tremble. But you can do no more than stay locked in place as he breaches your insides, and presses himself in until he’s filled you to the hilt.

Kiyoomi peppers you in wet kisses as he coos at you to relax, so far gone from the amount of pleasure he’s experiencing all at once that his words almost slur. “ 's okay. You’re okay, baby. Jus’ relax for me. It’ll feel good in just a second.”

You grind your teeth as your nails dig into his shoulders. He hisses as you start to break the skin, but it only makes his cock twitch in your velvety insides.

He’s in your fucking stomach. And it feels… bigger somehow. Like now that he’s your husband he’s giving it all to you finally and you can barely take it. So thick and heavy. Fuck, he’s so deep inside.

You must’ve muttered that last part out loud because his hips flinch at the sound of it. Still shushing you as he sucks bruises into your pulse point and rubs up your thighs like he means to console you.

When you start to squirm he palms your lower thigh and lifts your leg up just under the knee. Gearing his hip back till half of his wet shaft is exposed to the air and lifting his head for a good look at you.

The way your eyes roll back as he finally starts his brutal pace is enough to all but turn his pupils into hearts.

Kiyoomi swallows your clipped whines as he shoves his tongue in your mouth. Stopping every other thrust to press himself into you until his balls are squishing up against your ass and grinding himself in so deep that you swear he’s coming up through your throat.

You’re tearing fabric beads out of his dress shirt you’ve been clawing into him so hard. The thought of you marking him up makes his heart start to flutter.

“Shit. You feel that?” He grunts against your lips. “Feels so fucking amazing. All ‘ve been thinking about all day.”

You try to respond with something along the lines of “You’re too deep!” Or “Slow down!” But it only comes out as blissed out mumbling.

Kiyoomi slams in a few cutthroat thrusts that turn your guts into soup. You unlatch one of your hands to dig your nails into the cushions of the loveseat as your toes curl. “I’m almost pissed. - Keeping this perfect pussy away from me. ~ My perfect pussy away from me. Almost went insane knowing just how - oh fuck - fucking… phenomenal you’d feel. Think I just might put a baby in you.”

You wail through the pleasure to slur out disjointedly. “N-…No baby! Don’t wan’ a baby, Omi! Don’t…ah! Don’ want it!”

“No?” He lifts your other leg till he’s holding you in a mating press, watching those pretty tits bounce as your drool runs down your cheek. “You don’t want my baby? This pussy’s begging for it.”

You sob so prettily when he starts to dig you out like he hates you. “No! Nononono…! Don’t want a baby! Wan’ you, Omi! O-Only - fuck - Only want you, Omi!”

And even through all this, hearing something like that come from your mouth makes his face hot. It makes him hold onto your thighs with the kind of tightness that’ll bruise tomorrow. Heart squeezing as you cry out for him through teary eyes. “Yeah? You want me? You want Omi?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Only want Omi! F-fffuck! O-Only want my Omi!”

He wants to marry you all over again. He’s really not gonna last if you keep talking like this.

Kiyoomi hoists one of your legs on his shoulder to free his hand for a grip on your jaw. The difference in angle as he leans in for a sloppy kiss makes you both groan.

Your eyes are glazed over when he pulls away, mouth still gaped open to moan drunkenly in the air, but just the sight of your kiss-swollen lips is just too tempting to pass up.

He sucks your tongue into his mouth lewdly, deepening the kiss as he grinds himself into the hilt and starts again on those vicious thrusts that has you hiccuping underneath him. His voice is heavy with lust as he asserts. “Open your mouth a little wider for me, baby.”

And like the perfect little wife you are, you broaden your lips apart till your pretty pink tongue is bared for him. “That’s right. Good girl, angel.”

The mirth in his smile makes your tears well up from the pride.

And then he spits in your mouth.

Your eyes roll as he licks the leftover gossamer trail from his lips, swallowing it as the knot in your lower stomach tightens. His firm grip on your jaw slackens till he’s skimming it down to your throat - and he reapplies his hold with a loving fervor. At this point, he’s fucking you so thoroughly that you’re sure you’d be ruined for anyone else, regardless. Cock swelling in your tightening insides, and looking down at you with the kind of adoration that says he’s far gone and he’s not coming back. So in love with you that it’s almost frightening.

His fingers press against the side of your throat till your head starts to feel light. “Tell me you love me.”

You’re starting to see stars. “Say it. Tell me you love me. Tell me you can’t live without me.”

Honestly, with how cockdrunk and wound up you are, it’s really starting to feel like it. “I love you!” You cry.

“I love you! I love you! I can’t - ah! oh god… C-Can’t live without you!” Oh fuck, you’re cumming again. “Love you so much, Omi! I love you! Fuck! I love you! I love you, Omi! Iloveyouloveyouloveyouloveyou - please… oh my god… don’t stop don’t stop… fffuckkk oh my god, Omi…so fucking good…”

He outright chokes on his breaths, little tears welling in his eyes, half from the pleasure, half from the bliss of hearing you cry out for him so earnestly. He chirps out a mix of a grunt and a whine, dipping his head into the crook of your neck as he loses his mind and fucks into you even as you clench around his hot cum.

The sound of his lovesick voice - babbling into your ear as he continues to fuck your brains out, sends you hurling into a whole nother orgasm. “S-Shit! Oh my god. Oh my fucking - Oh Christ, angel. F-Fuck! I love you too, baby. I love you so much it - Ugh… oh god… Love you so much it hurts. Jus’ wanna make you happy, baby. Wanna-… oh fuck… I’m cumming again… I’m cumming, m’ cumming…”

Kiyoomi presses his forehead against yours as he continues to empty his balls into your gooey insides, still digging in your guts as you pant mindlessly into the air. “Fuck - Take it. Take it, baby. Mhf… Fuck yeah, keep milking me like that.”

He swivels his hips a few more drunken times before finally going limp.

Kiyoomi sighs as he dumps his head on the inside of your shoulder to catch his breath for a few empty seconds. Relishing in your mirrored worn out breaths and the way your heart races in tandem with his. He presses ginger kisses up your heavily bruised neck and jaw, holding you tight even as the residual bliss starts to fade. Still just as lovesick, amative, if not a half step from straight up worshiping you as he sluggishly lifts his head, and grazes his nose tenderly against your own. Gentle breaths kiss over your lips as he hovers - and lingers there a savory moment. He finally lets himself press his lips against yours with an ardent sigh blown into the room. Gentle kisses that start slow and end open-mouthed, Kiyoomi knows this is the happiest he’s ever been in his life.

And you encourage him as he indulges himself. As he kisses you like you’re the air he breathes and holds you like it’s the only thing his arms were made for. Loving you so tenderly, so intimately, like he’s craved for every second since he’s met you, and even as he whispers words of ardor and amour between your entwined lips, you do nothing to stop him.

You might love him a little more than you anticipated.

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vampmattsbae · 9 months ago

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They Can't Know

Pairing: dom!dumbass! matt x sub!nerd! reader

Summary: reader is rushing to get to her next class when all of the sudden shes pulled into a school restroom...

Warnings: SMUT!! no use of y/n, oral sex (male recieving), face fucking, rough, school sex, quickie

A/n: heyy i finally posted after teasing y'all hehe sorry if it's bad it's literally been sitting in my notes app for like months 😭

you were sitting in english class, staring at the clock till the class was over. you had already finished the book you're reading for the class so you're bored out of your mind and have nothing to do. your eyes start to flutter close when all of the sudden, the bell rings. yout eyes shoot back open and you rush to gather your things and leave the classroom. you get up from your seat and enter the busy hallway. it's a crazy sight. people bumping into eachother and being pushed to the side into lockers. you try to walk through the hallway as quickly as you can so you're not late. when you walk past the boys restroom, you feel an arm pull you inside.

"wait what the-" "shhhh" you're silenced by a finger on your lips. you look up to see your boyfriend matt. his arm is snaked around you, holding you close.

"matt, what are you doing? I need to get to class" you say in a frantic whisper, trying to escape from his grasp.

"baby, I need you so bad." he says, looking down at you. the noise from the hallway has started to die down. passing period is nearly over now. you contemplate what you should do. it'd be nice to have a break from constant work but, being with matt in a public school bathroom could lead to someone finding us. that cannot happen. your eyes flick down to his growing bulge. 'ohhh, I can't leave him like this.' you think to yourself.

"fine. but if anyone finds us, its you're fault. they can't know" you look back up to him and see a wide smirk grow on his face. "oh you cocky bastard"

"you're so pretty, you know that right?" he says as he smirks down at me.

"shut up" you say flatly. he leans down and kisses me sloppily. you eventually give in and start to kiss back. he starts to move me towards a stall when i suddenly realize what we're doing. "oh baby, we can't fuck in a bathroom stall that's... that's insane like"

"oh come onnn, I reallyyy need you. it'll just be a quickie, don't worry" he drags out his words and start to undo his belt.

"it better be quick..." you trail off as you stare in awe at his veiny hands as they slide his pants down to the floor. he shakes them off. you have a clear view of his boner now through his boxers. he was not lying, it looks like it hurts. he closes the handicap stall door and walks over to me and sticks a finger under the waistband of my shorts and starts to play with it.

"oh you're needy" you say with a giggle as he continues to pull down your shorts. you quickly grab his wrist and halt him from moving further. "let's take care of you first" you start to move his own hand to his crotch and use his hand to release some pressure. he let's out a low groan and starts to take off his boxers.

"mmm... thanks baby, i really need this" he takes them off fully and throws them to the side. he moves back towards the stall door so his back is pressed up against it. his dick stands fully hard and dripping with pre cum. you stare in awe at it before wrapping your hand around the base. his hips buck into your fist and you start to move a bot faster. you look back up to him and see his eyes scrunched closed with his mouth wide open, moans threatening to spill out.

"keep going, baby" you disobey his words and take my hand off of his dick. you move my mouth towards the tip to kitten lick it. matt really can't take it anymore. this was supposed to be a quickie, why is she teasing him? he moves his hands from behind his back to the top of my head, gripping my hair tight. you moan at the feeling, it's nice, but before long he slams his entire dick down my throat.

"this is what you get you little tease" he says between gritted teeth as he continues to take his dick in and out of my mouth. you start to choke but you're determined to get him off so you continue to suck on him, as best you can. he grips your hair even tighter as he continues to pound into your mouth.

"you feel so good, baby" he groans and bites his lip to try and quiet himself. you can hear his muffled moans from here. he quickens his pace, desperate for his high. you continue to choke on his dick but the pain slowly turns into pleasure.

"i- i'm close baby, keep going" he yelps out. you stick my tongue into his slit and that sends him completely over the edge. he trys to quiet his moans but it doesn't work. his sweet sounds fill the entire bathroom as he cums down my throat. his thrusts slow down as he rides out his high. you look up to him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. he's leaned against the stall door panting and sweaty. you take my mouth off of him and hand him his boxers.

"I didn't know you could be that rough baby, you abused my throat." you say jokingly, getting up from the disgusting bathroom floor and trying to balance yourself.

"awh i'm sorry. you wanna head back to my place and cuddle, princess?" he says super sweet like he wasn't pounding into my throat two minutes ago.

you smile and hand him his pants. "of course. there's really no reason to go back to class now."

"stop worrying about class, darling. just relax" he says, redressing himself and opening the stall door. you follow him out and he grabs my hand and leads me out of the school and into his car. he drives us home, never letting go of my hand.

A/n pt 2: please please please tell me if there's any spelling or grammer mistakes 🙏 i only read this over once and it was written a bit ago sooo. time to get back on the writing grind !!

Tags: @sluts4matt

#matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #smut #nate doe #nathan doe

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zoi3e · 7 months ago

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BEST INTREST

"if it's you and other, it's no need to worry, cause I can sleep between you."

dazai osamu x reader

warnings: agnst, hurt no comfort, song fic, unrequited love, dazai feeling guilty, implied female reader but no pronouns, reader is engaged someone un-named, suggestive implications, suicide implied (only at the end), reader is only with un-named person due to a forced marrige, death.

everything was great. it was only june in yokohama, yet it was so hot. especially more in this alley. well it'd probably be less hot with dazai's hands and mouth being all over you. he was always so clingy. but today he seemed more...well, off. he still was all over you whenever he could find a opening to pull you into some dingy alleyway. yet he seemed to drift off into his mind more often. he was so close yet so distant.

"darling, darling, darling, there's no need to worry! it's just a couple things in my brain, you know?"

originally, when one of your colleagues confessed to you, you had no answer. you were engaged at supposed to get married that summer to some rich business man who was from tokyo. not messing around with your senior colleague at a random job you got as a intern at a agency. in fact, he knew you were engaged with the ring on your finger. yet somehow you accepted. no one knew. but you were fine with that. he could sleep in between you and him. you didn't mind.

"if it's you and other, it's no need to worry, cause I can sleep between you."

"you know it won't work out. your just going to make things worse, they'll stay waiting for something that will never be between you unless you end it." is what ranpo told him. it itched at him all day. anytime he'd pull your hand into that alleyway and try to make himself feel better and distract himself by planting small kisses all over your neck and face. it just didn't work.

"i'm a third wheeler. i'm a side better. i'm a homewrecker. give it up."

he loved you. truly he did. but he was just a leech on your side. your smart, and yet somehow to him he's manipulated you self-consciously to make you feel as if this can stay. this can be. he wanted this so damn bad. but he knew some random detective who barely makes enough to get by himself would never be good enough for you.

"i can play the side (-) role easy, but not for too long. i'm the side (-) i gotta sneak around and hide with you. i wanna see you, give me five minutes. paparazzi probably like five pictures."

"but i just want you!" "i know, but we can't keep doing this. i can't just ruin your whole future you've built darli-" "just get out osamu!"

"don't want to fuck what you've got up. i would never blow your spot up. i know my place, i'm the landlord. i'll carry the weight till my hands sore. i can't keep doing this."

it was the day before the wedding. you couldn't take it anymore. you couldn't have dazai, but you just wanted to have freedom. even if you had to die to obtain it. you stared at the contact name on your phone screen. "osmau♡" you tapped the call button.

"dazai-kun. i think i want to take you up on that offer." .... "yes. 10? at the main docks?"

beep. beep. the sound of hospital machines beeped in dazai's ears. he opened his eyes, only to find yosano.

"...(name)..." he gasped out. his throat burns from how much salt water he took in when they jumped in hand in hand. she shook her head no. my heart hurts.

"i'll keep your best interest."

i kinda just used yōzō's story with him dying and his lover surviving for this lol.

the song is BEST INTEREST by Tyler, the Creator. I really like his music. anyways if you couldn't tell reader and dazai died together. yippee!

anways. have a good day, drink some water and don't do anything written in this fic. xoxo

#bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd dazai #bsd x you #dazai x reader #dazai x y/n #dazai x you #osamu x reader #x reader #fanfic #Spotify

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lucidwindz · 4 months ago

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billford ramblings

I’m seeing a lot of delightful fics of Bill being sent back to GF as a human and truly adore the premise.

throwing my own hat into the ring; I love some complex psychological horror and or unhealthy yet compelling dynamics, therefore in the AU that only exists in my head (for now), Bill broke out of Theraprism by himself, lands back onto earth and possesses the body of just some guy who was about to die, therefore an empty vessel yknow. His powers would be diminished, or he’d need to keep them under wraps so as not to catch the eye of any supernatural police. The Stan twins have been travelling across the globe to catch any residual weirdness, and Bill’s little fall to earth had pinged off on their radar, so they go to the anomaly place and just find Some Guy.

Bill has to do his best to convince the twins that he’s just Some Guy, and that the reason he’s giving Weird Vibes is bc he came into contact with the anomaly and it left his arms charred, and being able to do some magical tricks. He decides the best place to hide is wherever everyone least expects him, so he joins the twins on their adventures as resident Strange Guy But Kinda Smart and Useful so sure, tag along.

Now here’s the thing. Bill and Stanford get along really well, they’re both intellectuals and they bond over creating strange inventions, much to the despair of poor Stanley who has to make sure they don’t go too crazy and make Weirdmaggedon 2 electric bugaloo. But sometimes he participates yknow, dude learned some advanced shit in the 30 years fixing the portal. Either way, they rly end up bonding.

All the while, however, Bill realizes how much he missed being with Stanford, and becomes increasingly worried about the cat coming out of the bag and ruining this second chance. He’s careful that his demeanours are never too similar to how he used to act, he’s desperate not to shatter the illusion. One way or another, this entire thing teaches him to slow down and cherish something. Still, he cannot fully contain his chaotic nature, it’s a non stop push and pull between his godhood and his growing care for humanity. How does a cosmic, unfathomable being such as himself change? Can they even? Or would that very change tear himself asunder?

On Stanford’s side, he cannot help but find this stranger familiar, can’t help the incessant déjà-vu, anytime he and the man stay up late into the night discussing the mysteries of the universe. But he thinks it’s unfair to pile his trauma onto this random guy, so he restrains himself. Still, it is a quiet scream in the back of his head he can’t shut out. He also realizes slowly that the other man seems to always be repressing himself, and he wants his friend to break out of his shell and be truthful, but another part of him dreads it to his bones.

Still, both of them can’t help falling for each other. Stanford feels like someone finally sees him completely, and this time they’re on equal footing; it is not a believer on his knees for a god, it is a slow waltz as they hold hands. A comforting, soft partnership.

(at the core of billford, I think, is we never truly know if they loved each other. Perhaps they only loved the idea of each other; stanford’s love for Bill is that of a believer, a worshipper. He saw Bill as this clairvoyant eye to finally bathe him with the acknowledgment he always craved, the hole in his heart left by Stanley, to fill with achievements and noises. If a God can acknowledge me, then I must be doing things right, I must be good, I must be enough. Yet when that shatters, and Bill is revealed to be a demon, what says that about Stanford, who reveled in his gaze? As for Bill, he fully saw Stanford as a pawn till he lost him. Is it truly love and regret? Or is it a child losing its favourite toy? Is it mere disbelief that anything can slip through his, a god, a king’s fingers? Even a pawn that he liked a little more than the others, that he expected would remain on his board but vanishes and he can’t help but linger on its empty square? Does he mourn his loss of control or does he mourn just a little bit, the company of someone who understands him, his incessant need for escapism, from his broken home, his oddness, his ‘defect’?)

Eventually, everything comes to a head when Bill has to use his full powers to save Stanley during a mission gone wrong. Sirens blare across the universe and Bill knows he will be found out and sent back to the hell of infinite therapy. But for that moment, all Bill cared about was Stanford’s happiness and wellbeing, because he knew that losing his brother would break him fully. He had to care for Ford, despite his fear of losing him forever. Despite the fact that this would be the end of the road for him.

As for the ending, idk what would be most appropriate. I’d love a happy ending but I think though Stanford will try to save Bill from his fate in theraprism to repay his debt, he would be too hurt to fully forgive the demon. Maybe they part ways, and Bill places a kiss on Stanford’s scarred knuckles and accepts that to love is to lose, and he has to accept that if you truly love another, it means letting them be happy even if that happiness is without you.

I think some of my love for the Jedi’s philosophy leaked in all that yapping but anyways. Might draw or write a lil something for this AU down the line. I like unclean resolutions, they’re both forever stained with the other’s handprint, but would they trace it softly on their skin or cover it up with a high collar. Who knows? It makes no damn sense, compels me though!

#Ramblings #gravity falls #billford

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marvelseries19 · 6 months ago

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Hi! Please read till the end.

Hi, so, I've been working on something, which you can read below the keep reading button. I'm wondering if this is something that you would be interested in reading.

The italics are meant to be Italian, but I'm not about to write in a third language I don't speak.

It's based on the movie The Equalizer 3, it contains the Italian mafia, drugs, an American assassin who's been trained by the government, and things of that sort.

Now the dilemma comes in whether I should just follow the movie storyline and make Natasha a CIA agent and just basically rewrite the movie or if I should find a way to mix the movie and the MCU one.

I don't want to describe too much of the movie in case you haven't seen it and, in case you choose that route then I don't want to give spoilers.

So, at the end of this little introduction, there will be a poll in which you can choose one of three options.

One, I just rewrite the movie in a more "normal" universe.

Two, I find a way to mix the two universes.

Or three, you are not interested in reading any of this.

A little warning before you read, there are descriptions of blood, killing, injuries, etc. So, read at your own risk.

-------

Sicily, Italy.

Lorenzo Vitale is the owner of a traditional, rustic Italian vineyard. He is on his way there with his son, Eugenio. The scenic route they must take to get there starkly contrasts with what awaits them.

As soon as they reach the front gate of the property, a body is lying there. He recognizes him as one of the men working for him in the vineyard. He slowly drives inside, where another of his men is waiting for them. Lorenzo instructs Eugenio to remain in the car as he opens the door.

The worker, scared, meets the white-haired men at the door of the house. "She told me to wait outside."

His boss, nervous as to what he would encounter inside, shares a look with his son before deciding to go in alongside the young man who is gripping his gun. They venture inside with their guns in their hands, ready to go in case they need them. A body can be seen as soon as they take a corner; a machete is in the man's chest, and blood is scattered around the floor. It was certainly not a peaceful scene. As they walk further inside, more bodies can be found with all sorts of injuries. It's a blood bath.

They make their way to the stairs, which lead them to the wine cellar, where they see you sitting in a chair in the middle of the room, cleaning your hands, with two of his remaining men pointing their guns at either side of you. Lorenzo is taken aback by your cool demeanor, as if you were not just about to die.

"They wouldn't let me in, so…" You continue to clean your ring before putting it back on. "They should have let me in." Your voice is calm and loud enough for the men to hear you. The man can't help but wonder why everyone else was killed, but the two guarding you are still breathing.

As you fold the cloth you were using, the man speaks. "Let me see if I got this right. You came all the way here, alone, to this vineyard in Sicily. Why?"

"You."

"So, you know who I am?" He asks. "I know what you are." You answer as you leave the cloth aside.

"And yet, you still came here. Why?"

You look around at the men on either side of you. "You took something that didn't belong to you, and I'm here to take it back."

"How did you find me?" He shares a look with the men in the room. "No one has been able to before." You shrug your shoulders in response. "Very well." You take a look at Lorenzo, his movements, his clothes, and finally, the key that you need. "You are already here. Except you're a few meters short of what you came for."

You make eye contact with him. "We all end up where we're supposed to be. Which means… Your man to my left has his finger on the trigger, but he's a foot too close, which renders the man to my right dead already. He just doesn't know it yet. I feel sorry for his family." You whisper. "Nine seconds." You start the countdown on your smartwatch. "That's what you have to decide your fate." The men in the room exchange a look at your clear warning. "Nine seconds, nothing more."

As the clock marks nine seconds, you quickly stand and redirect the gun from the man to your left, which does exactly what you said it would, because as you do that, the man reacts and pulls the trigger, effectively killing the man to your right. You take advantage of the position to shoot the other young man who accompanied Lorenzo inside. The older men, seeing he was the last one available, attempt to shoot you, but you're quicker and move the man that you still had in your hands and push him in front of you. Again, using the position in your favor, you shoot Vitale.

He tries to crawl away from you despite the pain he is in, while you take a second to take a breath without taking your eyes off of him. You watch him crawl for a few seconds before grabbing one of the men's shotguns as you make your way to him. You check the gun to see if it still has ammo inside. Happy with the finding, you shoot him one more time in the leg.

The man let out a scream at the pain he felt, not only from his extensive wounds but also from his insistence on crawling away from you. You know he won't get far with his injuries, but you want to make sure he can't escape. As you approach him, you see the fear in his eyes as he realizes there's no way out. With a cold determination, you raise the shotgun and aim directly at his head. The sound of the gunshot echoes through the vineyard.

#marvel #mcu #reader insert #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #please help me with my dilemma

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kanmom51 · 1 year ago

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JK on Bruontheradio - coming soon

*Disclaimer: This post came out way longer than I initially intended it to be, and is a little bit of a brain fart. You have been warned, lol.

Josh “Bru” Brubaker

Love how even with this we have Jimin reference.

JK just cannot help himself.

He did tell us "the love of my life".

youtube

And what about the first thing that JK shows us is this:

Bad lighting he probably didn't really count on, but yes, his hand tattoos.

And I know there will be those that will say: "he's showing us ARMY", but I say it's a double for him, cause man ain't stupid, he knows fans will go crazy he's showing ARMY, and at the same time I believe he's showing the JM tattoo as well. You know, the JM that did the exact same kind of clip before him. The JM that spent 5 days WITH HIM in NY (and CT). The JM that is his "love of my life". That JM.

Same JM that @andy-wm wrote a beautiful post about just a few hours ago:

Ok, so I guess I'm going to talk about this here, even though I will probably repeat it many times to come.

Seven for JK is about love not fucking.

There. I said it.

And why do I bring this up here?

Because of the hand he so graciously showed us.

Because of JK's JM tattoo.

Because of said tattoo's placement.

Ring finger. For all to see.

How long have we known the J over the M stood for JM?

Us Jikookers?

I'd say since forever.

It's the rest of the fandom that kept trying to find excuses why it wasn't. Why it stood for everything under the sun other than the obvious. The one person that JK puts above others. The one person JK has been showing for years now that is special to him, in a way that is way beyond even the best of friendships. When you tattoo someone's name on you that is a statement. You are literally branding yourself with their name till the day you die (yes you can erase tattoos, but when you are having a tattoo done that is not what you are thinking of, in that moment in time you are painting your skin for life).

And JK did that. One sided.

He also made sure to let us know that the theories running around for years about what that J meant (you know, the army and J means all the members bullshit) were crap. Yes, he didn't tell us out loud that the J placed over the M stood for JM, but he didn't deny it either. He omitted that. Which is understandable given they are still a closeted couple and we all know that admitting to that, would be admitting to their queerness. As much as JK wants out of the closet, as much as he wants to scream blue murder that JM is his and his alone, he won't do it as long as JM isn't ready. And saying the JM is Jimin out loud, that would be outing not only himself but also the love of his life, when said love of his life is not ready for that yet. So he said the J stands for Jungkook and moved on at the speed of lightening. Without addressing the huge ass elephant in that room - why place it over the M knowing EXACTLY what it looked like? (we know the answer to that, but omitting is the name of the game - said that already).

So yeah, JK tattooed JM on his hand. For all of us to see. And he keeps touching it up. Darkening it. At times specifically those two letters.

I actually had a post in draft that is kind of redundant now, about how I noticed his JM at the airport leaving for the States.

That pinky ring, that actually isn't a pinky ring cause it's JM's ring, which he didn't wear when JM was there in NY with him, but had it back on travelling to London, JM gone back to SK, looks kinda too small even for his pinky, lol.

Now to Seven.

Like I said, JK sees Seven as a love song.

Yes, he sang the explicit version, but that's not what HE feels the song is about. And he's said it multiple times too.

This is what JK thinks about Seven:

and from the MV making:

and:

and from Stationhead radio 20th July appearance:

I think JK is being very clear here. Pity people aren't listening to him. This, for him, is a love song.

Yes, he knows it's very sexual, but it's about being with the person you love more than anything else and wanting to make that person happy. And him saying "the love of my life" that might have been on purpose (wouldn't put it past him) or even as a slip of the tongue, but it cements how he feels about the song, that might not have been written by him, but he most definitley feels an emotional connection with. I'd say kind of like Euphoria or Only then.

And now back to the hand and to JM and their place in JK's promotions for this song.

Not coincidently, JM is laced through every single part of the promotions for this song.

He's in the photo shoot concept.

He's in the MV (yes, what can you do, they had to go with a gf and hetero love story in the MV cause JK's first solo worldwide cannot be a queer love affair MV, that's just the way the cookie crumbles... not New jeans cookie - yuck - just writing that makes me feel ewe...).

He's in the choreography

There are more similarities than those I pointed out in that post. And again, it's not about JK stealing JM's moves from SMF pt. 2 (which we know the man LUVED). It's about JM inspiring him. And believe you me, that JM knew every single step of the way. The song, the MV and the choreo.

It's in the styling (not only the photo shoot).

And JM is just there, with JK all the time, on his hand, just out there for everyone to look and see.

For those saying the J is covered, nope, it ain't. The ring band is see through, cause that's just a thing JK does.

This finger pointing, not intentional in my opinion, just a little coincidence (JK holding the mic, as he does in the GMA performance as well, but in the Explicit performance with no mic in hand he covers his face just like the backup dancers do), and yet, a lovely one at that.

This is the way JK wanted it to be. Since way back in 2019 when he added that J over the M. For everyone to see all of the time!

So, where was I?

To sum this absolutely probably unnecessary post.

JK loves JM.

JK had JM tattooed on his hand.

JK chose Seven because he liked the song (and it's really a good one) and he also connected with it on an emotional level.

JK sees the song as a love song, expressing him wanting and needing to be with the person he loves, the love of his life, constantly, and showing said person how much he loves him and wanting to make them happy.

Yes, there is an explicit version to the song, yay, they replaced "loving" with "fucking". JK sings it, finds it amusing to say the word out loud, but when asked about it, it's the clean version, the love song version that he is connected to.

JK wanted to show us, in the ways that he, as a closeted queer man can, loves JM, is inspired by JM, and that JM is a part of who he is, as a man, as an artist.

Those two may not have come up with the "you are me I am you", but they most certainly took ownership of it. And JK, he's out there showing us just how true it is.

I think maybe it's about time that army:

a. Go read the lyrics to the song and understand that even the explicit version is talking about being with one person, the one you want to make feel good 7 days a week, and not about fucking someone else every day of the week. It's called reading comprehension, I think they need a lesson in that.

b. For once, even just once, listen to what JK is saying, what he's been saying ever since he started the promotion for this song.

This army was listening:

Well, at least to some of what JK has been saying.

I am guessing she's not a Jikooker, lol.

c. This one is for JKKs and PJMs. Try, for just one second, to put your feelings about the way JM's solo debut was treated BY THE COMPANY, and see with untainted glasses just how much this man loves JM. You know how much he promoted him personally and without the company's approval. He adores him, admires him, I'm willing to go so far as to worships him. JM is his catalyst. JM is the love of his life. JK would NEVER do something to disrespect or hurt JM. JK is trying to show us just how much JM is a part of who he, JK, is. He's trying to show us how much he is inspired by JM. How much he loves him. All this anger you are holding towards JK you need to let it go. JK as an artist is not the company as a promoter, they are not one and the same. On the way, I also recommend reading @beautifulpersonpeach's post:

Maybe, just maybe it will give you a little more insight or at the very least food for thought.

Ok, I think that's the end of this one. I kind of think I was all over the place here, and not so sure I got the message through, but it is what it is. Brain farts are not always pretty...

#Jungkook #JK #JK Seven #JK Seven love song #Jikook #kookmin #minkook #Jimin #JM #JM Face #JM SMF pt. 2 #JM Like crazy #Youtube

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around1302 · 2 years ago

Text

XIV. CHEAP WINE

SPARE PARTS: a series (14/20)

PARIS, FRANCE

(W) strong language, alcohol use, oral (female receiving), (implant protected) sex, fingering.

5k of a lot of angst and pining, so beware lol

a/n yes i did link a visual of one of the sex positions i describe (not porn, real educational stuff i swear) because i felt like i was doing a shit job of explaining it. IN MY DEFENCE i’m a lesbian. idk how straight positions be working, okay!

THIRD PERSON’S POV

Harry can narrow down where he realised he had it a little too bad for Charlie Greene to roughly one moment.

Circa 2016, when they were freshly recognised and began the recording process of their first album. When they were all still practically strangers, suddenly flung into this new world of songwriters and producers and media scrutiny. When Harry was late to their first ever recording session, and Charlie ripped into him so hard even Paula (ambitiously taking on five teenagers with mediocre talent and a dream) had an ounce of respect for her.

All he remembers was standing there in his ugly (but defensibly comfortable) purple trainers, fists shoved into an old hoodie pocket, jaw clenched and mouth set just… watching her. She was so stressed out and so mad, but Harry couldn’t give two shits. All he could do was stare at her mouth and imagine what it would be like to leap forward and shut her up with his own.

But he didn’t. Harry made a dumb joke about how hot she looked in that top, and decided to make dumb jokes every time he had that same urge. That all-consuming, stomach-churning urge that he thought would die the more he told himself to hate her. He managed to half convince himself she was nothing more than a stuck-up princess who only ever cared about whether he was late or high or covered in hickies he thought would work as a cover for any cracks.

Which they did. A little too well.

It’s why Harry’s watching her laugh with Zayn from behind her glass of red, and why he can’t do anything about the way Zayn’s eyes undress her in that dress. Fuck, that dress. Harry hasn't been able to let his eyes wander for more than two seconds at a time, because this is a fancy establishment and his trousers forgive nothing. Every time his gaze trickled down the neckline or to the creases that tugged at her waist he felt my trousers tighten, forcing him to cough and shift and think about something else till he can’t help but steal another look.

Around 0.2 seconds into his allotted time, Amelia’s chair squeaks against the floor and her ring tapping the edge of her wineglass silences the table. Harry’s eyes stay on Charlie a beat longer across the table, watching how she shifts in her seat and gives him a whole other angle to ache after.

He coughs and shifts and thinks about something else.

“I just wanted to say that I’m so proud of you guys,” Amelia keeps her voice low, despite the vacancy of the restaurant. There has to be a maximum of five other tables in here, considering the group stayed three hours after their last bites. “It’s been amazing to watch you all grow over the last six years, and to see it this close up is such an honour.”

Niall looks at Amelia like he could propose right there and then. Harry feels a twinge of jealousy he mislabels as happiness for his friends.

“And to Poppy,” she holds her glass in Charlie’s direction. Harry steals another glance. This time, though, his chest lurches in a different way. Her eyes gloss over and her lips twitch in that wobbly way that says she’s holding back a sob, “she’d be so proud of you, babe.”

Charlie smiles sadly, tilting her head as if saying the words ‘thank you’ aloud would burst that lump she’s visibly trying to swallow. So, Harry reaches for his glass to do it for her.

“To Poppy.”

Charlie’s head whips to face his, a tear escaping her and running a path down her cheek. Harry holds her stare, nodding toward her as everyone raises their glass in a cheer.

Then his eyes flicker lower, to the jewels encompassing her smooth neck, and his mind flashes to a few hours ago.

Returned from the graveyard and sprung with the news they’d all be going out to some sophisticated dinner in Poppy’s honour – Charlie called Harry in her room for a rant. Her subconscious would call it company, but she would never dare admit that.

Harry willingly complied, posted up on the bed while Charlie flurried around her room in a tornado of glitter and dress options and heels, whining about how going to a fancy dinner is the last thing she wanted to do and that she loves her friends – she really does – but how can they make this same mistake so many times?

Somewhere between grumbling about the uncomfortablity of stilettos and the way the airlines had tarnished the floral scent of her favourite perfume, Charlie struggled with her necklace. Harry, eyes lasered to her every movement, had been staring at her fingers tangling with the metal for five minutes before he had to do something about it himself.

“Here,” he mumbled, his tone somewhat annoyed as he rose from the bed and stood behind her in the mirror. He shooed her hands away, ignoring her confused mutterings to focus on the task at hand.

Charlie, albeit brows furrowed and a line of questioning stuck in her throat, just… watched him. She didn’t even notice her lips curling as his forehead crinkled and his tongue poked at his bottom lip in concentration, and she definitely didn’t notice the sigh that left her lips when he locked her necklace in place and trailed his knuckles lightly against the open back of Charlie’s silk dress.

When he looked up to meet her gaze in the glass, he fought a smile at the way she was looking at him. It made his stomach twist and knot and he knew he was only tumbling deeper into the rabbit hole with every second he held her stare, but he also thought he’d die if he looked away.

“What?” Harry deadpanned, trying to regain some lucidity.

Charlie bit her lip, dimming her grin as she turned and thumbed at the curls straddling his collar. Harry swallowed thickly.

“You know, we could just not go to this dinner.”

“We have to.” Harry lilted, his attempt at biting that smile back starting to fail.

“Do we?” Charlie toyed with the material of his shirt, swaying him closer. He inhaled sharply, hands flying to her waist as her perfume (which, to him, was most definitely not tarnished) swallowed him whole.

“I sometimes think you’re trying to kill me, Greene,” Harry nudged her nose, kissing her chastely once on the lips before preserving with some self control, “res' is at eight, hurry it up.”

Blinking back to the bleak reality of realising he was an idiot for not taking up Charlie’s offer, Louis says the best thing Harry’s heard all night.

“Anyone fancy shots?”

“M’trying to fuck the guy in the black suit, y’think I have a chance?”

Harry smiles, trying not to laugh at Charlie in the middle of this badly lit bar. They (finally) moved from the restaurant to the first place they could find, which happened to be this kind of dingy looking dive bar down the street from their hotel. Trashy, but apparently not enough to stop them from welcoming the sticky tables and knock-off vodka.

Charlie’s had a few more than the rest of them and has been leaning into Harry’s side of the crimson booth, adorned with holes and stretch marks, for the last ten minutes, feeding him the worst pickup lines he’s ever heard.

It’s so far been the best ten minutes of his life.

“You know,” Harry shifts, moving his arm so it rests behind Charlie’s now slightly mussed curls tangled from the dancing with Amelia and Niall only half an hour ago. Her sleepy eyes drift into something tranquil, safe - something he could relax into and get lost in - but he keeps his cool, “if you keep hitting on the guy in the black suit, you’re going to scare the poor fucker away.”

Harry’s lying. He knows that. She knows that. Not a thing in the world right now could drive him away. But she gasps dramatically and feigns offence regardless. He bites his bottom lip to try and reign his grin back a bit.

He fails.

“Y’think m’comin’ on too strong?”

Harry squints, pinching his index finger and thumb and trying his hardest not to imagine what it would be like to pinch her chin.

“Well,” Charlie abruptly stands, swaying slightly. He rushes to steady her waist, but pulls his hand away before anyone can see. Everyone was already confused by the day they spent together, the whole ‘crying in his shoulder at a graveyard’ ordeal. A tipsy hand on the waist would completely screw them, “in that case.”

Harry’s chest doesn’t drop until hes sees her palm find Zayn’s bicep by the bar while he talks to someone serving drinks, Zayn’s interest in the bartender seemingly dropping the second Charlie touches him. Harry’s jaw tightens and he clears his throat to stop any stupid, responsive lump forming. His eyes harden on the contact – the way she makes him instantly laugh, the way he tucks one of those stray curls behind her ear, the way he looks at her like she made the sun.

“Es-tu seul, mon amour?”

Harry’s gaze tears away, landing on someone tall and blonde and fucking gorgeous, but he can still see Zayn and Charlie laughing together in his peripheral and his retinas burn beneath the sight.

“Sorry, I don’t speak French.”

He can’t even bother to convincingly lie about his knowledge of the language. He knows this mystery woman is asking him if he’s alone, and he knows she’s about to offer one of the drinks in her hand up. Harry looks at Charlie and Zayn again.

“Mind if I sit?”

He pokes his tongue in his cheek, waiting for Charlie to look back at him with a playful glint, some sort of hope or hint that she’s only messing with him and she’s going to come back to him any minute.

She doesn’t.

“I’d love it if you did,” Harry forces himself to smirk, “one of those for me, darling?”

The group had been dropping like flies for the last hour. Niall and Amelia had left after they had gotten predictably close to fucking in the bar’s bathrooms, and Liam had to take Zayn back to the hotel after one too many shots. Louis has been in the corner with a brunette, flirting badly yet oddly successfully for the last ten minutes. Leaving only Charlie and Harry at war with each other.

It started when Charlie turned and saw Harry with the girl who bought him a drink, smile on her face, expecting to see him seething with jealousy. When that wasn’t the case, an unfamiliar feeling of something undiagnosed bubbled within her chest, and she sought out the first person (who was not Zayn) who would make Harry feel like she had.

That was roughly an hour ago.

Now, Charlie’s dancing against a stranger to shitty jukebox music and Harry’s doing a terrible job of pretending to be apart of the conversation he’s meant to be having with a girl he’s pretty sure is a done deal.

Except he doesn’t want her. The girl he wants is grinding her ass against some sleezebag’s boner while he gawks at the fact a woman that beautiful would actually give him the time of day. Charlie’s eyes, hazy, have been set on Harry’s the whole time. Her teeth sinking into her bottom lip every time she saw his throat bob or his jaw tighten, letting that bubble in her chest melt with every solidification Harry is dripping in jealousy. His fist is clenched so hard around his glass it’s a surprise it hasn’t smashed, and when the poor girl speaking to him says something else he can’t be bothered to faux-listen to, he brashly apologises to go and rip Charlie away from her toy.

“Hey, man!” The guy, tall and broad and the blueprint of all Chads, booms as Harry grips Charlie’s bicep and pulls her away from the asshole. Despite the desired effect being achieved, Charlie frowns and yanks her arm from Harry’s harsh grip, his rings already having left blush indents in her brown skin.

“Charlie, quit playing. We’re going.”

Harry’s never liked that feeling of jealousy. He could never place it before – but now he realises that was because he was stuck for years unable to do a thing about it. In this moment, a moment where he can do something about it, all he wants is to get away from this suspect bar and fuck some sense into her.

“No, you’re not the boss of me,” Charlie had sobered several gross men ago, and in all honesty wanted nothing more than to leave. But she has a point to prove, God dammit. Whether that’s to herself or Harry, she’s unsure, but she’s going to prove it regardless.

“Let her be, dude. We were havin’ fun.”

The guy’s American, and Harry can’t help but roll his eyes at his Texan drawl as he tries to assert some all-man, all-masculine dominance. It’s so unbelievably predictable.

“You’re not allowed to tell me what to do, remember?” Charlie spits, forgetting entirely about the guy behind her. Harry was halfway through staring daggers into his soul before his gaze drops to Charlie. “No strings and all that. Go back to whoever you were planning on fucking tonight.”

“Charlie, you’re drunk–”

“I’m in a bar, dad. Fuck off.”

Harry can’t help but laugh. Bitter and humourless, but shit can he not do this anymore.

“Yeah–”

“Shut up!” The two of them shout simultaneously, Charlie being long tired of this guy who two minutes ago was gripping her waist a little too tight, breathing down her neck a little too heavily. He was gross, and not her main concern right now.

“Jesus,” Chad murmurs, ego deflated, “crazy bitches out here.”

He saunters off in search of another mission, leaving Harry and Charlie at the bar.

Harry licks his lips, running his hand through his hair as he tries to collect what he wants to say. He doesn’t want to do it in this bar, in this situation, surrounded by the potency of cheap alcohol, but he knows better than to try and drag Charlie out again – so here it is.

“I get you wanted no strings,” his throat runs dry, “but that’s just not very fucking realistic anymore, Charlie. I care about you enough to know I don’t like seeing some pervert grind on you like that, and by the way you were staring at me, you fucking know that.”

Charlie folds her arms across her chest, hiding the way she anxiously plucks at her nails.

She doesn’t like Harry. That would be absurd. He’s been nothing but a pain in her ass for the last six years, he’ll fuck anything that moves, he’s unreliable, messy, moody. A dickhead, an annoyance, a tease, a kiss, a touch, a fuck.

The lines begin to blur, and the easiest thing to do when those lines cross is to give in to either box Harry fits into. To either yell at him or get an orgasm out of him – but then he holds her in his hotel bed, or spends the day being Paris’ worst tour guide to distract her from Poppy’s grave, or holds her while she sobs into his chest because she can’t face her sister.

She hates him even more for it.

“What are you saying?” Charlie utters. With the way Harry’s glued to her lips, it doesn’t matter they’re surrounded by chatter and music and 1 AM bar background – he hears every word as if it’s whispered in his ear.

Harry searches her eyes, trying to figure out how she’d respond if he said he’s saying he wants to know her in the morning as he does at night. That he wants to stop having to act like her presence annoys him when really it’s the only thing that’s kept him grounded all these years. That he wants to hear about her day, and hold her hand, and have her scream at him for domestic, stupid shit like how he forgot to wash up again rather than have her scream at him for being covered in hickies from someone he wishes is her.

“Fuck it,” Charlie sighs. She doesn’t have to wholly admit it to herself, that maybe she does crave Harry’s touch a little more than she should, but she can act on it in the only way she knows how. “Let’s just go back to the hotel.”

Harry’s tongue pokes in his cheek and he realises as she brushes past him that he’s been his own worst enemy this whole time.

Charlie pushes him against her hotel door once they reach the safety of the dim room, his lips quickly melting against hers — the action’s muscle memory at this point. He brings his hands up to her face, thumb brushing her jaw as he kisses her back, swallowing her sharp breaths and low moans as their tongues tangle.

When her hands trail lower, tugging on his belt loops, Harry pulls away.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Charlie pants against his mouth, her dress straps draping her shoulders. Harry’s eyes follow the thin silk, his warm fingers tracing her neck and giving her goosebumps (to which he tries to hide his smile) as he hoists them back up.

“Let’s just move slower, yeah?” Harry nudges her nose with his, his lips just brushing hers before she leans back.

“Why?” She narrows her eyes, sceptical.

If there’s one thing Charlie Greene is excellent at, it’s denial.

“Sweetheart,” Harry kisses her jaw, his hands finding her waist and pulling her close to him. He kisses her neck, Charlie sighs and puddles into his touch, “we have all night,” he kisses her throat, then her collarbones. “We don’t need to rush all the time.”

Bullshit for: I’m terrified this is the last time you’re ever going to want to touch me again after that near-confessional. Nevertheless, Charlie accepts it and sinks her fingers into his hair as she meets his lips again – slowly.

Harry backs her up till the backs of her knees hit the mattress, then he sits her down.

She perches on the edge of the bed, looking up at him as he removes his blazer, leaving him in his black shirt and trousers. Her eyes level with the butterfly just peaking from the material, she slides her palms back on the sheets till she can sit back and look at him in his entirety.

“You’re…”

The word gets trapped in her throat. Is it too intimate? Is it too weird?

“What?” Harry murmurs, dropping to his knees to take Charlie’s heels off.

She chews on it for a moment, tilting her head while watching him lean down and kiss the area of shin that’s visible behind her dress, ghosting his lips up the deep thigh slit. When he reaches her waist, she lays back, letting him climb over her.

“Charlie, what?” He repeats, curls tickling her cheek.

She reaches up, tucking his hair behind his ears.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Harry swears his heart stops beating.

“Sorry,” Charlie panics at the silence, “I’m probably just still dru–”

She can’t finish her nervous ramble because Harry’s already kissing her into the bed. Her legs instinctively wrap around his waist, trying desperately to grind against him as he pins her waist and cocoons her with his other arm.

“No one’s ever called me that,” Harry breathes against her lips, starting to struggle with his whole ‘slow’ idea. Charlie pulls him back to her mouth, needing the taste of him just as much as she needs the feel of him. She guides one of his hands down, pushing it beneath her dress. He presses his middle finger to her clothed cunt, swiping it over her clit and teasing the bundle of nerves.

“Please,” Charlie bucks into his hand, trying to reach some pressure, “I need you.”

Harry’s chest leaps.

She needs you to fuck her, idiot. She doesn’t need you.

… oh, fuck it. I can be delusional for a minute.

“Up,” Harry’s voice lowers as he nods up the bed, and they shuffle around so Charlie’s head hits the pillow. “No,” he quickly swipes her waist, nearly making her yelp with how swiftly he pulls her atop of him. He grabs her face, not caring that her hair’s tangled in his rings, “I meant up.”

Charlie frowns, not understanding till…

Oh.

“You mean…?”

“Ride my face.”

Charlie’s breath catches in her throat. She musters a heavy nod.

Sitting up, he helps her pull her dress over her body, leaving her only in those lace knickers Harry doesn’t know if he wants to frame or rip apart. His hands smooth over her silky thighs, pushing her back so he can take in the full sight of her. All her tattoos and marks and bumps and bruises – every perfect inch of her that he could drink in forever if he could.

He finds her eyes, nodding to signal he wanted – needed – her on his face. Now.

Climbing up the bed, Charlie clings onto the bed frame as she hovers above him, gasping at the feeling of his long fingers moving her knickers to the side, his cool rings brushing her mound.

“Charlie, I said sit on my face.”

Never having done this before, Charlie glances down, her pussy still inches from his mouth, hesitant to sink any further.

“I don’t want to suffocate you.”

“You can kill me for all I care, just sit the fuck down.”

When Charlie scowls, Harry softens.

“I promise you won’t suffocate me. I’ll be more than fine.”

Keeping one hand occupied on her knickers, Harry wraps the other around her thigh to bring her down to his mouth. Tense, at first, Charlie just watches as his lips circle her cunt, his tongue just flickering at her clit. When he looks up, his seafoam eyes dark jade, Charlie’s stomach tightens and she throws her head back.

Harry pulls her further down, aiding her in rocking against his face as his tongue works her clit in hard, slow notions. Charlie leaves one hand on the bed frame, using her other to sink into his hair and tug – eliciting tunnelled groans from his throat to her pussy – as she begins to find a rhythm.

“Oh, shit, Harry,” she gasps, her hands flying back to his chest, now.

Harry tweaks at her nipple, rolling the bud between his fingers before feeling every part of her. Her stomach, her breasts, her arms. He settles on her thighs, keeping her impossibly close as Charlie moans and gasps through her orgasm.

Harry keeps her there until she can’t stand it, letting her climb back down his body after she tugs on his hair. Finding his lips as quickly as she can, Charlie tangles the taste of her on his tongue with her own, working to unbutton his shirt and trousers as she reaches in and feels how hard he is. He’s practically leaking pre-cum already, and grinds into Charlie’s touch as she works him a little.

“Christ, Styles,” she pants, smirking against his lips, “for me?”

“No, for that blonde girl I was talking to at the bar.” Harry jokes, laughing into her mouth when she stops palming him. “Of course it’s for you, dumbass,” he rakes his fingers through her hair, smoothing the nape of her tense neck with his finger tips. Kissing her, he mumbles, “always for you.”

He flips them over, arms caging her in as he kisses her neck. “You don’t understand,” kiss, “what you,” kiss, “do to me,” kiss, “Charlie.” kiss.

Head tilted into the pillow, nails raking the muscles that ripple his back, Charlie closes her eyes and wraps her legs around his waist.

“Show me then,” she lifts her hips, brushing her wet core against his erection.

“Side,” he demands, sucking a nipple into his mouth and brushing his teeth against her puckering flesh.

Charlie quickly obeys, practically dripping for him again as his large hands sprawl her hips. She lays on her side, her cheek falling to his bicep as he lays behind her and lifts her leg up.

“Ready for me, hm?” Harry trails a finger between her folds, feeling how wet she is before tasting her on his thumb. “Always so fuckin’ wet,” he grabs the base of his dick, poking at her entrance before rubbing against her clit. She gasps, pushing back against him and grabbing his hip behind her. Harry leans down to her neck, teeth nipping at her earlobe as he slides in with ease.

Charlie’s eyes flutter shut, a low moan escaping her throat as he fits her. Harry’s own breath shudders, and he drapes her right leg over his side, gasping into into her neck as he feels her pulse around him. Snaking her arm around his nape, Harry starts thrusting, and the deep position echoes a symphony of filthy notes around the room.

“Fuck, Charlie,” Harry whines in her ear, hand slipping down her thigh to circle her clit.

“Oh, my God,” Charlie chokes, shifting so she lays on her back and can swallow his moans with her lips. He squeezes her left breast, toying with her nipple till she bites down on his bottom lip and pushes her head into the pillow.

“Every time,” he groans, sinking his teeth into her shoulder, “you feel so good, every time.”

“Don’t stop,” Charlie’s fingers blanch around the sheets below them, “s’good, don’t stop.”

At that, Harry went harder, faster. Fuck the ‘slow’ rule.

“Charlie, baby, I’m gonna come,” Harry moans into her neck, trying to speed up his fingers so she can reach that peak sooner. Instead, she removes his hand, squeezing her pussy around him so that he tightens his grip on her waist and gasps sharply.

“Please do,” she directs all her focus on him, now, wanting so badly for him to, “fill me up, please, Harry.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She rubs her own clit, slowly, feeding off his desperate little pants.

Fucking her so hard he nearly concusses them both on the headboard, Harry reaches his high, crying out into her neck. Charlie moans with him, scraping her fingers through his tangled curls as he slows down.

“Did you finish?” He pants, breathless. Charlie shakes her head.

He pulls out, wincing as he shifts to lay her flat on her back, his cheek pressed into his palm. She finds his lips, kissing him softly despite his fingers curling filthily inside her. When it becomes too much to kiss him, when his thumb comes into play on her clit and the hard circles he rubs brings her closer and closer to her high, Charlie grabs his face and kisses his bottom lip once.

“Stay the night.”

Harry nearly stops. “Really?”

Charlie nods, and Harry kisses her, moving down her torso and making her come for a second – but not the last – time tonight.

taglist: @lilfreakjez @be-with-me-so-happily @sirtommyholland @tpwksm @b-reads-things @tiaamberxx @daphnesutton @mleestiles

#harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles x oc #harry styles series #1d ot5 #one direction series #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #spare parts series #one direction ot5 #harry styles friends with benefits #harry styles fic

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phantomphangphucker · 2 years ago

Text

Phic Phight - I Out Pew Pew Your Pew Pew

For: @wingedflight

Danny is kinda a walking weapon even with ignoring his ghostliness, and robbing a bank is certainly one way to find that out

Danny? Yeah Danny was having a day. He turbo fucked his right shin and now had a cast, even with that his parents were still insisting on Danny himself going to both set up the new FentonWorks deal with a non-military adjacent investor/potential buyer and for him to set up the investment/deposit any under the table cheques at the bank. Of course, he had to be in his FentonWorks brand hazmat/spandex -gotta be able to show off those weapons and other gadgets at the drop of a hat right?- for said meeting, he dressed it up with a burgundy lab coat, fuzzy green and purple plaid pants, and a pair of dark blue doc martins; combined with the white trimmed with black spandex he hopes he was a fucking eyesore.

“-It’ll be a pleasure doing business with FentonWorks”, the gray-suited man gets up and they shake hands. White gloved hand to pale hand, the other man had a gaudy ring on his ring finger with diamonds so most likely married though his watch was definitely a fake Rolex. The man was bringing both legal and… less than legal money to the table so Danny makes a point to pull the guy in and clap him on the back, “do keep in mind, my uncle is Vlad Masters, I’m sure you understand”, and let’s the guy go, finger snapping and finger gunning as he take his leave; the other man looks slightly shocky. Fucking good. Sometimes people would try to pull one over on his parents, mostly due to Jack’s seeming obviousness and innocence, and they’d sometimes try it with Danny too due to him being all young and shit. It didn’t help that his dad feel for it sometimes, even his mom had once or twice due to being excited or too focused on other things. Danny, however, never had, he was way too perceptive and aware of the more unkind side of people (ghost or human) for that; which is probably why his parents wanted him to handle all the deals and clients now. Was it a pain? Yes. Most of the clients were either a little wacky, a little shady, or just painfully normal. But bringing up Vlad, who had a goddamn thirty-ish year reputation for being brutal/vindictive and unscammable in business, usually stopped anyone from even trying to pull one over on Danny.

Vlad definitely didn’t mind, that man liked his more intimidating business reputation, and would absolutely run someone’s business into the ground on Danny’s behalf; at least they got on well these days, so the rich ass wouldn’t ask for much in return.

So anyways, bank time, as he slips in through the slightly squeaky doors with a whistle; thank fuck he was practiced in walking around with casts. Slapping his cheques down on the till and, as is typical of his luck, all Hell breaks loose immediately after.

Doors banging open loudly and men shouting stereotypical bullshit, “ON THE GROUND NOW! THIS IS A ROBBERY! IF YOU DONT WANT TO DIE YOU’LL LISTEN THE HELL UP!”, and fires a few rounds at the ceiling. Don’t these jackasses know that could cause ricochets and shit?

Needless to say everybody drops… except Danny, who, you know, has a fucking cast and thus would reasonably have difficulty with that shit. The chuckle fucks don’t really like that of course, one pointing a gun at an unaffected looking Danny, “ground, now”.

“I don’t know about you guys but I kinda have difficulty laying on the ground with a fucking cast on”.

The guy rolls his eyes under his ski mask, “funny. Ground, I don’t care how difficult it is”.

Danny shrugs and just kinda falls sideways, landing on the ground with a huff and a very loud thump. This? This was not what the armed man expected him to do and he just stands in shock for a beat; Danny’s tempted to knock the man’s feet out and bite him to get some kind of upper hand but… he wasn’t alone in the building and he wasn’t about to risk collateral. so the man with the gun grunts and goes back to the others to watch everyone while giving him some weirded out side-eye.

Cue operation big ass distraction. He is literally wearing a spandex suit filled to the brim with weapons and that’s super fucking durable, a regular ass gun ain’t doing shit and these guys don’t look like they brought ecto-based weaponry or a rocket launcher or an anti-tank rifle… just so long as they don’t shoot him in the fucking head. Granted that won’t really do anything else either but that was because he was already dead, and while that would really make these idiots realise the situation they’re in, that shit being caught on camera would be super bad.

So Danny starts drumming his fingers on his stomach, then moving his arms and legs around like he’s making snow angels, when that doesn’t get mu- oh wait never mind, they’re staring at him and one of the guys mutters, “are you fucking kidding me”. Danny bounces his feet up and down making thumping noises and making his whole body shake; while also trying the gesture to everyone to, like, hide or some shit. At least shimmy away from his ass, ‘cause trying to shimmy away from the guy that’s practically begging to be shot is very reasonable behaviour that the gunmen won’t really question much.

A slightly taller jackass comes over this time, pointing his gun right at Danny’s nose, “I can just kill you now if you feel like being annoying”.

Danny smirks very mockingly, “go ahead, be doing me a favour or two”. And the man eyes how Danny is very clearly entirely unbothered by the gun in his face. “Lookie a kid with a death wish, on your stomach. Now”, and he nudges Danny’s side with his gun barrel; everyone is very much not near Danny now.

Danny does oblige, again he doesn’t actually want to get shot in the face. The taller man backs up and mutters to another, “he might be real trouble, either he doesn’t fear death or he’s made these kinds of rounds before”; his buddy just nods curtly and passes the message along.

Nice. More eyes on Danny. Danny likey. Also he absolutely heard someone managing to hit the panic button; ghost ears for the win. unfortunately said ghost ears are also picking up on the guys doing a solid job breaking into the safe, these guys have done this before.

And then someone other than Danny does something stupid and lunges for one of the men’s guns, Danny wants to call the girl a fucking moron as she gets shot in the foot without any hesitation. Aka, Danny’s hand is solidly forced now since he was no longer their only ‘problem’ meaning playing distraction via erratic behaviour wasn't gonna work now. Whelp. Nothing for it. Taking advantage of the girls distraction to twist his palms under his collar bone and flex his feet so his toes are flat in the ground. Grinning, “a cast might hinder your legs but you know what it doesn’t hinder? Your ankles”, and uses his wrists and toes/ankles to springboard/slingshot himself forward and straight into the nearest asshole's knees.

The guy goes down like a sack of bricks.

Danny snaking his arm around to jab the guy one in the chin, knocking him out easily with a little help from his ghostly strength; then grabbing his shirt and flinging the man at the other men, Danny grabbing the man’s gun too while he’s at it and using the gun as a prop to shove himself back into standing upright.

Danny took issue with killing. Big no to murder. But what he didn’t take issue with was injuries; people don’t die from mild enough injuries, they just hurt like a son of a bitch.

So Danny shoots two guys in their feet, both feet. While everyone else starts panicking and running around; Danny winds up shooting one of the guys in the shoulder -barely- cause he tried to shoot a fleeing old dude. Danny basically gliding over the ground, using the reach of the butt of the gun to deliver knock out neck hits to the two guys he shot in the foot; chuckling the gun at the shoulder shot guy, he’s not super happy with the thunk noise it makes against the fuckers chest but he’s still breathing… just maybe with a cracked rib or two.

Now there’s just the two in the vault and the two in this room with him, both of the later have their guns on him at this point and obviously think he just threw away his weapon based on their definite smirks under their masks.

Danny glances around at the ground like he’s looking for another weapon, one of the men chuckling, “not so cocky now, are we”. Danny looking back up and shrugging, “oh I assure you, I am the perfect amount of cocky”, and suddenly Danny has a bazooka.

The two men’s eyes go wide, Danny taking their shook as a chance to summon out a little laser gun from its ankle slot and promptly laser seals shut the vault; those men can stay there and get picked up by the cops… whenever the cops can manage to get it back open anyways. But for now, bazooka. Danny snickers, “your guy’s luck must really suck to pick the one time to commit robbery at the same time as when an owner of a ground breaking weapons company that even does deals with some… less than public government sectors, will be around doing business”, grin turning mean, “and I’m the owner with the best shot”; the bazooka charging up with a whine. Any remaining hostages are either huddling further in their hiding spots, trying to record this shit, or muttering profanities.

‘Cause yeah, this was definitely a weird ass scene. Three unconscious bank robbers, a ‘wack job’ in a red lab coat plus spandex body suit plus green/purple pants plus blue shoes like he’s from a fucking comic book or something, and two other bank robbers having a gun stand-off with bazooka mad scientist dude. The fact that Danny was grinning like he was having a jolly good time while the robbers looked all serious, really sold it.

Annnnnnnnd then the cops show up.

“EVERYBODY PUT YOUR HANDS UP AND GET DOWN ON THE GROUND! Put your weapons down”. The robbers do as their told instantly while glaring bloody murder at Danny.

Danny, however, actively pouts, “hey, I’m just defusing the situation”. He sounds so serious that even the cops are thrown off and pause, everyone eyeing him.

The shorter robber fucker wheezes, “kid, you’re fucking crazy”.

Danny shrugs, still holding his bazooka, “first off, I’m an adult. Second off, again I have a leg cast so that whole get on the ground thing’s gonna take some time. Third off, Imma Fenton, crazy’s in the genes”, smirking, “or in the spandex jumpsuit, I guess. These definitely aren’t denim”.

One of the cops lowers her gun, “you’re a Fenton”.

Danny takes one hand off the bazooka and points to his face, grinning goofily, “Daniel James Fenton, heir to FentonWorks, at your service”; somewhat slowly lifting up the bazooka to point it at the ceiling instead, all the cops -except the lady cop who spoke up- following him with their guns the entire time.

Tall robber sounds slightly confused, “full name? Are you not concerned a friend of ours will come hunt you down for this”; one of the cops grabbing him and yanking his cuffed ass up very roughly.

“Eh, bigger men with bigger arsenals haven't succeeded yet so I’m not worried”.

Meanwhile, lady cop holsters her gun, waving the others off, “don’t bother with him, Fenton’s are basically exempt from the law”. The other cops looking dumbfounded at her, one even giving her a, “seriously?”.

“Yes, seriously. You three, get that vault open”.

Danny nods, retracting the bazooka, “good call, kinda trapped two fuckers in there with an ankle laser”.

One cop mumbling, “ankle laser? What is this? James Bond?”.

Danny snickers, “you wouldn’t believe me if I told you”, then walks over to the lady officer, she looks like she’s in charge here or at least the highest on the peeking order, handing over his FentonWorks id for her to look over and nod at.

She hands it back to him with a, “you Fenton’s are as crazy as I was warned”.

Danny beams happily, “oh this isn’t remotely crazy for me”, glancing around, “actually I think this was the single easiest robbery slash hostage situation I’ve ever been involved with. Glad to see there’s no weird gothic mime clowns or mecha body suits”. Then looking right at the robbers, “by the by? This shit?”, putting a hand to his jumpsuit, “is neck to toe bullet proof and contains well over three hundred different weapons. You were out gunned and out armoured before you even tried. Suck on deez nuts”, and makes a couple of lewd gestures.

Some of the hostages whimper, two laugh, and the other remaining ones just fucking flee. the lady cop eyes Danny, “please try to stick to you own jurisdiction in the future”.

Danny grins giddily before striding back over to where he left his cheques, “now is anyone gonna cash these for me or? They’re not, like, super legal so…”.

One of the two cops that were working on the safe shouting, “are you for real!?!”.

“I verbally and/or visually -take your pick- terrorised some robbers, shot three of them, and held a bunch of cops at bazooka point; questionable money and maybe tax evasion are a moot point at this point”.

A bank teller does actually shakily come over and start doing his cheque for him, “um, uh, thank you?”, her voice is a little squeaky.

Danny gives a little thumbs up, “hey it’s my thing to both disturb and protect the peace, usually from far weirder situations with a lot more collateral damage”. And gives her double-finger guns while the cops finally get the safe open and drag out the two trapped men.

Whelp, this wasn’t his problem anymore and he dealt with what he was required to. Saluting everyone, “whelp, this was fun, thanks for the more mundane combat style break. Got dead people to deal with, if you want to charge me with your therapy bills please don’t, the damages tab is high enough already”, and with that he saunters out.

One of the cops looks to the boss lady cop, “how are we supposed to report this?”.

“Maurice, the second we slap FentonWorks Incident on that report, we could claim we fought the goddamn tooth fairy and the higher-ups wouldn’t question it”.

The other cop just whistles, rather impressed.

---

Danny snags some danishes before flopping down in one of the kitchen chairs, “so guess who shot three people, had a bazooka standoff with the cops, and was in a freaking bank robbery, today?”.

His mom turns away from the stove, she was probably making supper, “are you okay? Didn’t seriously hurt anyone?”. His dad, who’s tinkering with… something, just looks giddy, “that’s my boy”.

Danny snorts, “eh the worst anyone got was maybe a cracked rib, kinda threw a gun kinda hard into his chest”.

Both his parents wincing, his dads the one to ask though, “Fenton kinda hard or normal people kinda hard”.

“Mostly normal”, Danny shrugs, he’s not worried, “and the cops got the guys I sealed in the vault out pretty quick so I doubt they were having issues breathing”, straightening up some, “the deal went fine though, some cash in the account already”.

His dad does a little cheer, while his mom smiles, “that’s good and I’m glad things didn’t get too eventful”.

Danny laughs, “ha! Yeah, someone definitely record some of that shit show though so don’t be too surprised if I’m on the news again”. They shake their heads fondly at that… and yes, Danny was in fact on the news that night from multiple different shaky angles; his outfit definitely was a bit of an eyesore, nice.

End.

Prompt: Danny gets caught in the middle of a bank robbery. Can he diffuse the situation without revealing his powers?

#Danny Phantom #phandom #phic phight #phic phight 2023 #danny fenton #guns #hostage situation #bank robbery #fan fic #phan phic #my wtiting #have a fic suck my dick #phantomphangphucker #gothmoth

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tentimesthecourage · 8 months ago

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So I haven't written in a while, but I was looking through my docs and I don't think I ever posted this.

Have fun

A deep shuddering breath escaped the shivering male as he leaned against the other one’s shoulder. He could barely keep his eyes open any more and he felt so cold.

“Guess this is it…” He murmured softly. “Didn’t think it would end like this…” His eyes trailed over the others before him, unable to make out the details of them. Perhaps that was a good thing… he doubted they’d want him to see them in such a state.

They had won… it was finally over… but at what cost?

None of them were making it home alive.

If he tried hard enough, he could hear the faint murmurs of those having their final conversations in the air, but he paid them no mind.

“I… want to say that I’m afraid… and honestly, I am… I’m terrified… I’ll never see my friends again… never see her again… never see you again… I don’t know what happens after you die but… heh… I guess we’ll all find out together…” He managed to swallow, the coppery taste in his mouth barely caught his attention

“Thank you… truly… for being there for me… you made this journey more bearable than I could have ever imagined… I wish… I wish that you had been able to go home… that you could have seen her… you deserved to have a peaceful life… and instead you got dragged into this…”

With more effort than it should have ever taken, Rhythm managed to shift and turn to cuddle into his side, well aware the body beside him was colder than his own.

“I love you, Sky… I hope you knew that…”

---

Everything hurts… Rinku wheezed softly, he had a lung punctured, he was more than sure. It was a wonder he wasn’t dead already, but he knew it was coming.

He felt the weight on his chest shift and managed to look down at Four, covered in just as much blood as he was and shaking softly. He reached up and entangled his fingers in the matted hair causing the older to look up. Rinku was too tired to grimace at the injury over the other’s eye.

A matching mark, their enemy had claimed.

He cupped Four’s cheek and the other leaned into him with a shaky sigh.

“We’re… we’re not gonna make it…” It wasn’t a question.

“No.” He answered it anyway. Four gave a wry smile.

“It’s too bad… I was really… l-looking forward to that wedding… to have you take my name…”

A quiet breath of laughter escaped him, “Who needs a wedding… We’ve been married since you accepted my ring…”

The smith managed to push himself up on shaky limbs and move up to brush his lips against the younger male’s one final time.

“Till death do us part…”

“Not even death will take you from me…”

“I love you....”

“I love you too…”

#linked universe #rinku #lu four #lu sky #lu rhythm #major character death #bad endings galore #drabble

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cherrycolafairy · 1 year ago

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How to ghost haunt your exes?

Get Him Back! Make him real jealous, Make him real mad.

You must turn desperate in vengeance after the summer is over, and wait till it gets dark and half quiet, to open the window for cool air to heal your nerves.

The numbing chill of voices that whisper down your spine "how do I make them love me?" (you're all by yourself, with no one to stroke your hair, tell you you're beautiful, lace their fingers with yours)

Maybe adding an absurd twist to being sexy will make me feel like I'm still in control, and I've never been a natural but every app is a dating app when you're trying to seduce your dysmorphia

Performance is survival when the moons ovulate, I oil and I toil, so he can pull my hair and hold the door for me, but nobody's crotch could effeminate me, into seeking love in a whorehouse.

I imagine myself in a room with the girls on his screen (would I be picked or her?), she blurs the lines between envy and homoeroticism. I succumb to comparing myself to her, like a crippling romantic obsession. I linger, watching her, hidden in plain sight, like the perfume she wears. Angel dust incarnate I see her everywhere and I despise my rotten mind for the way it worships her.

I want to be her, I want to be with her, yearning turns into loathing, it poisons you, and I could never bear the sweet torture of being in the ring with my nemesis, so I let her win and I let her tie the ribbon to my hair, but she has my stomach in knots. After all the games, maybe it isn't her toys I'm keeping score of, it's her, and she's out to get me. But if a double decker bus crashes into us, to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die

(Focus) Get Him Back! Make him real jealous, Make him real mad. I want to wear his initials on a chain round my neck, like the prize of my womanhood, I want to be his fantasy, and leave him with nothing, I want to get him back! Make him real jealous, make him real mad

In the mornings , I see him clearly, he sits next to my bed, as I try to frantically converse but he doesn't speak my language, he follows me around everywhere, with his ever-present smirk, holding hands with me, tightly, four weeks straight. Every trope the town has reused. But I am my father's daughter, so maybe I could fix him?

And no one seemed to really see him like I did, in grey areas, so obvious, so intrusive.

Perhaps he existed for me alone, I made him up every time like unreliable narrators usually do. Let's go on a date to the cemetery, count the bodies I'll carry to my grave, it's a manic pixie ghost town after all.

Now if you wish me a good morning, I might open the drapes just to check if it's really morning. And if a serial killer tried choking me to death, I'd tell the court I deserved it for I must have driven him nuts?

And I don't want to tell another soul what my favourite colour is (I lose the answer every time I figure it out)

I want to get them back! Make them real jealous, make them real mad

(hi! you can also find me on substack @/crybabie)

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theflowerofthecommonwealth · 2 years ago

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Power Armor Punch Part Fifty

Heyo we made it!!! (Throws a bunch of confetti into the air and blows into a party horn) If you have somehow been keeping up, I salute you.

Masterlist

Lucille: *dead silent. Can barely hear the others over the sound of the ocean already*

Nick: *running diagnostics to see if he can get some mobility back into his face and neck at least. Being stuck like this kind of gets old after a while*

Gardio: *gently resting his arm on Teshteal’s hat*

Teshteal: *the pressure makes him feel a bit better so he’s not complaining*

Jasmine: (Picking at her side wounds while the words “Mistake” and “Pathetic” ring through her head over and over again in her partial trance, blood trickling out onto her fingers. The wind refreshingly blows through her loose hair, but she doesn’t seem to notice while she mutters to herself)

Lucille: *would make idle conversation if anyone joined her in the cabin but she’s alone, steering the ship. Kind of depressing but hey, not the first time everyone else was doing their own thing while she worked*

Teshteal: *smacks her hand away from her side with his tail* Stop that. You’ll lose your strength if you start gushing blood.

Jasmine: (Shrieks then snaps up, blinking as she mutters something under her breath that either directed at herself or Teshteal. She tucks her hands under her legs and goes back to laying her head on her knees, quietly humming a tune)

Teshteal: *keeping an eye on her, now*

Lucille: *already missing the Commonwealth as they near the island. Soft melancholic sigh, remembering the insanity that went on there* At least I can still get the weather satellite on my pipboy… *misses the weather station she calls home, too*

Gardio: *started to doze. Head sags but bobs just a little with the sway of the boat*

Jasmine: (Takes a sip of water from her bottle and pulls out that babydoll style of singing again) “Sing, keep your spirits high. Sing, pass the worry by. Sing, till the day you die. It’s good for ya…” (Takes a deep breath to soothe herself) “Sing, while your debts are made. Sing, till the bills are paid. Sing, don’t you be afraid. It’s good for ya….”

Gardio: *wakes to Jas’s singing but keeps his head low, knowing she’ll probably stop if he acknowledges it. It sounds so sweet and pleasant to the old ghoul*

Lucille: *about to pull into port in Far Harbor*

Jasmine: (It’s an insanely stupid and naive song to sing right now and in general, but she loved it when she was small) “When old gloom come around. You don’t have to frown. It wont mean a thing, just Boopy-Doopy-Doopy-Doo! Boop-Boop-Be-Doop! (Again she can hit the Boop parts perfectly and sweetly) “Sing, make the day seem right. Sing, so you’d be alright. Sing, and with all your might. It’s good for ya.” (Looks at the Island as she finishes her song, tightening her vest around herself. She glances up to the sky, noting that some dark clouds are on the horizon)

Lucille: *cheakily as she safely docks the boat* Land Ho! Thank you for riding the Good Ship Misery! Finest cruise ship in the world.

Gardio: *looks up and cracks a grin at the joke* I want a refund.

Lucille: *laughs* Sorry, transaction laws only stand on land but not so much at sea.

Teshteal: What kinda shady business are you running here?

Lucille: *tilts her head as she ties off the boat* The free kind. Expensive, right?

Gardio: *slings Nick over his shoulder. He’ll get him situated with some help as soon as he’s on land*

Jasmine: (Slowly rises to her feet, glancing at her Dad while doing so. She doesn’t want to be apart from him… She’s not ready yet, her heart is already pounding. Especially when the distance is so far between them on a dangerous island crawling with creatures and God knows what else)

Teshteal: *already scrambling to get off the boat*

Gardio: *simply steps onto the dock*

Lucille: *second to last to leave*

Jasmine: (Jumps onto the dock, looking out past the town and at the Island, noting the thick fog that’s covering post of the land, save for some spots here and there. There’s a small twist in her heart when she remembers something specific about this island…)

Dogmeat: *bumps Jas’s hand affectionately with his head*

Lucille: *already walking into the town*

Gardio: *strolling after his daughter, noting and dodging now terrified glances by the residents- they were happy when they saw Lucille but then everyone else other than Jas came in*

Teshteal: *forced grin- definitely doesn’t like the disgusted looks of the harbor people. Walking’s more exaggerated, too*

Nick: *managed to get some control over his eyes and is looking around* Just keep walking on. Don’t pay them any mind. They’re like this a lot around newcomers*

Jasmine: (Walks up to Teshteal and takes his hand with a gentle squeeze and hum so she doesn’t scare him, narrowing her eyes at Allen Lee who throws an especially mean glare at the group. The glares aren’t probably directed at her, she’s too pretty and innocent looking. But that doesn’t stop her from getting defensive of her family and friends)

Allen: *scoffs* She brought more of them with her… they just get weirder and weirder, too.

Lucille: *growls bitterly*

Teshteal: *nervous laugh but it comes out almost mockingly*

Allen: You mocking me, mainlander freak?! *pulls out his gun*

Teshteal: Oh no, Sir- never, Sir! I would only mock you if it it suits you, Sir! *his tone has defaulted to mockery, too. He’s not trying to but it sure sounds like it*

Allen: *cocks gun* Open your mouth one more FXCKING time, freak-

Jasmine: (Marches right to Allen with her dagger in hand when she hears and sees the threat, easily grabbing his arm and twisting it at an awkward angle so his gun is aimed at the floor while she points her dagger at his neck with her other hand) (Darkly) “Try me, you will see what happens.” (Leans in, pressing the tip of her knife to his chin while she twists his arm further) “They are not the monster you have to worry about, you ever wondered what a skinned human looks like?”

Allen: *pained cry* Help, I’m being attacked by a mainlander-!

Dogmeat: *growls*

Allen: AND HER DOG, TOO!!

Lucille: You wouldn’t be in this position if you didn’t pull out your gun in the first place, Allen. You know that, right? Now why don’t you shut up and go back to peddling your weapons? Or do I need to get Captain Avery out here to settle this?

Allen: Oh, I’ll have a word with Avery- I’ll make sure this is the last time you ever set foot in Far Harbor again-

Dogmeat: *barks at him bitterly*

Avery: What’s going on here? Allen Lee, did you open your blasted mouth again?!

Allen: *suddenly goes absolutely silent*

Lucille: *smirks under her helmet*

Gardio: *just happy this Allen guy isn’t barking like an angry dog anymore. Reminds him of the thugs that would get brought into the precinct shouting and making things worse for themselves*

Jasmine: (Blinks innocently with her big brown eyes piercing back at him, tilting her head while she looks up at Allen like a little kitten and smiles) (Angelically) “Sir, if you are being attacked why do you not just pull away? I am just a little girl, you are twice my size and a well seasoned harborman. Surely you can overtake me if you really wanted to…” (Subtly puts more pressure on his arm while she pouts her lips. He can’t move without hurting no matter how hard he tries, that’s the fun part with toying with him. He looks ridiculous getting overtake by a small girl with a knife)

Allen: *tugs but quickly stops because of the pain* I can’t-

Avery: What do you mean you can’t? You’re telling me you can’t get yourself out of the whole you dug yourself into? With a child, no less? *indignantly* Huh.

Allen: *tries to move Jas’s hand with his own but that presses the knife into his skin* What the fxck- this is a joke, right?! Avery, you’re just going to stand there and let this happen?!

Lucille: Let what happen? The consequences for your actions? All you had to do was keep to yourself. But no. You had to point your gun at my friend, here.

Avery: So that’s what happened? *to Allen* Is that true?

Allen: I was defending myself from a freak of nature-!

Gardio: He only laughed. That’s not a good reason to pull a gun on someone-

Avery: Okay. I’ve heard enough. Allen. Apologize-

Allen: But-

Avery Don’t question me- apologize and back off. We have enough troubles around here as it is without you raising hell. *to Jas* And once he does, let him go. This is sad enough to watch as it is. *crossing her arms*

Jasmine: (Nods her head, again blinking innocently at Allen) “It is not a joke, I will let go if you do what she says and do not bother us again.” (Lowly so the others can’t hear, her hand squeezing enough so there’s a small pop in his arm) “If you do, there will be severe consequences.” (Sweetly while smiling once more, batting her eyes) “Thank you for playing easy on me, though you really seem mad….”

Allen: Kinda hard to hit you when this knife is digging into my skin- *accident tugs on his trapped arm* OW-!

Gardio: We’re waiting, Allen.

Allen: Keep my name out of your mouth you-

Lucille: *murderously now* Hey. You want to die? Cause you couldn’t shut the fxck up and just apologize? Keep going. It’s not just the kid you’ll be facing if you finish that fxcking sentence.

Nick: *doesn’t like the death threat but he can’t do much about it*

Allen: *frustrated* Fine. I’m fxcking sorry! There! Now leave me the hell alone!

Avery: There. Was that so bad…? *to Jas* You can let go now. Hopefully. *glares at Allen for a moment* He won’t be bothering you again.

Jasmine: (Releases Allen and withdraws her knife, watching with seemingly genuine confusion as the harborman tumbles backwards because she was holding him with so much force) “You do not have to be a Drama Queen about it. I am just a little girl, remember?” (Walks off back to her group while still keeping her perception sharp, tossing her curly hair over her shoulders)

Allen: *leaps to his feet and scrambles away in shame*

Avery: Now, what can I do for you, Lucille? What brings you to the island this time?

Lucille: A few things. *tilts her head at Jas* A friend of hers- goes by the name, “Donovan”. Have you heard of him?

Avery: *pauses in thought* Hm…

Jasmine: (Watches Allen leave as she ties a bandanna on the top of her head to help keep it out of her face, turning to Lucille with interest when she hears her mention Donny)

Avery: I think so- does he look like that fellow? *gestures to Gardio* All wrinkly and corpse like? Cause there is a guy who looks like your glowing companion.

Gardio: So a ghoul. Do you know where he lives? If he’s still sane?

Avery: Well last time I saw him he was- it has been a while since he came down for supplies. He lives at the old lighthouse with a very kind woman. Honestly if it weren’t for them, we would have lost a few good souls to the sea.

Nick: Good to hear.

Avery: Huh. Last time we saw each other, Detective, you were on your feet and less… bare?

Nick: System malfunction. Going to get it fixed.

Avery: That explains everything.

Lucille: Let’s get back on track. You said he lives in the lighthouse? Does he run any sort of business out of the lighthouse?

Jasmine: (Standing close to Gardio, but only because she wants to be near Nick to help calm herself. It catches her attention to hear that Donny is living with a kind woman, though she’d be more surprised to hear if he lived alone)

Avery: They fish but lately I’ve heard rumors they’ve been running some sort of farm.

Nick: That sounds like him. We have a source that claims he works on the sea.

Lucille: So, your hunch might be right. Is this where we part ways?

Nick: Might as well. You, Jas, and Dogmeat- check out the lighthouse. Gardio, Teshteal and I will head on to Arcadia.

Lucille: Got it. *to Avery* Thanks for the help, Captain.

Avery: *smiles at her* Anytime, Lucille.

Gardio: *nods with a kind smile at Avery then starts walking to the hull*

Teshteal: *follows him*

Jasmine: (Keeps expressionless and quiet but on the inside shes screaming and panicking as she follows along. She takes out the piece of paper that contains the command words and gives it to Teshteal) (Quietly) “Give it to Nick when he is ready, before I change my mind…” (Points to her head, trying not to cry like a baby that needs her parent. She really rather not split up and wants to go with her Dad instead)

Teshteal: *takes it and nods. He’ll get it to him as soon as he’s fixed*

Gardio: *already outside the hull, glowing a bit more thanks to the fog* Are you coming, officer?

Teshteal: *spins on his heel with a grin, already pocketing the page* Yes sir, chief! *catches up to him and they start walking away*

Lucille: *turns to Jas after waving them off* Ready to go?

Jasmine: (Watches the departing group leave for a long moment before vaguely nodding at Lucille, trying to control her shaking while she pulls her hood over her head but opts out of putting on her mask)

Lucille: *isn’t going to press her about it- but it would be wise to wear it. She starts walking on to the lighthouse, following the route on her pipboy overlay in her helmet*

Dogmeat: *follows Lucille then stops to look at Jas to make she’s coming*

Gardio: *listening to Nick tell him how to get there*

Teshteal: *his horns and tail glow brighter in the fog, too… maybe something to do with the radiation.*

Jasmine: (Not wearing her mask because she can’t fucking breathe properly with how tight her chest is compressing. Nevertheless, she closely and calmly follows along with her hand near her gun and her focus on their surroundings as sharp as she can make it)

Teshteal: *does end up having to kill a couple of trappers along the way. They stick out like a sore thumb in the fog so they attract more attention*

Gardio: *still pretty handy with his pistol despite having to hold a synth*

Lucille: *luckily hasn’t run into anything yet. She keeps an eye out for enemies, though*

Dogmeat: *sticking next to Jas the entire time*

Jasmine: (Resisting the urge to scratch her sides to relieve the stress and pent up emotions, focusing on the scenery and taking deep breaths so she doesn’t faint instead. She’s staying quiet and small so she doesn’t draw attention to their little trio. Overhead the dark clouds have settled in over the island, getting a greenish tint to them)

Lucille: *sighs bitterly* Looks like a rad storm. I wish I could do something about that… probably better if we make a run for it. *considers the satellites but she only pulls that out if it looks really bad*

Teshteal: *having a field day slaughtering gulpers they ran into*

Gardio: *had to set Nick down just to help*

Jasmine: (Quietly) “I will be alright in the storm, but we can run if we need to.”

Lucille: I suggest we run anyway. We’ll get to the lighthouse faster.

Teshteal: Well that was fun. Back on the road, I guess. *stops when he sees Gardio* You okay?

Gardio: *spacing out but snaps out of it* Just a little overloaded on radiation. Give me a moment. *takes in a deep breath and lets out a concentrated burst of radiation through the cracks in his skin*

Teshteal: So radiation still hurts you in a way?

Gardio: It… can overwhelm me. I sometimes get this weird sense of something… *rubs his fingers together as he thinks* Otherworldly pulling at me when I absorb too much. I’d rather it not. I still want to go to Heaven after I die. *wry chuckle as he picks up Nick*

Teshteal: *doesn’t know if he should be concerned for his friend’s sanity or impressed he still ascribes to any religion after living through the bombs*

Jasmine: (Nods her head. She’ll adjust her speed to Lucille’s so she doesn’t end up bolting ahead. It’s actually something she’s good at, you can’t exactly play with other kids who have half your stamina and strength without adjusting, otherwise you just mop the floor with them every time)

Lucille: *breaks into a full sprint, charging forward down the path until she needs to walk again to build up stamina, then it’s another full sprint*

Dogmeat: *chases after them, tongue flopping out of his mouth and flapping in the wind*

Nick: You still believe in that sorta thing, Chapel?

Gardio: I do. Especially now. For so many reasons- especially Lucille. My sweet little Lucille… *smiles remembering a little girl playing with toy cars on the floor of their home*

Teshteal: … She’s so tall. And kind of mean.

Gardio: She… does have her moments. Don’t let that color your judgement. She’s always been a good and helpful kid.

Teshteal: *goes quiet*

Jasmine: (Maintains a good balance of not running too far ahead, slowing down whenever Lucille needs to replenish her stamina. She’s glad they are running now, it helps keeps her mind off everything else, running is what’s she does when she wants to get away from anything too stressful, wether it be physical or mental)

Lucille: *comes up on the lighthouse just as the thunder starts rolling overhead. Soon she’s knocking on the door*

Gardio: *strolling up the hill with Nick over his arms. Not much longer until they’re in Acadia*

DiMA: Hm? *gets out of his chair* Who are you? I don’t believe we’ve met- *notices Nick draped over Gardio’s shoulder like a sack of beans and runs up to the two* Brother? Is that you? What happened??

Gardio: *raises an eyebrow in confusion* Brother…?

Teshteal: *shrugs* I don’t remember if he had one or not-

Nick: I do. DiMA, these two are Gardio Chapel and Teshteal. Old coworkers of mine- or rather the original Nick’s. Either way, they’re friends. I wouldn’t have made it up here without them.

DiMA: Yes- well, you know my policy, Nick. Any friend of yours is-

Nick: Welcome? Yeah. I know. Sorry to cut to the chase but is Faraday around? I’m gonna need some dire maintenence done. I’m stuck in this… safe mode and I can’t move an inch!

DiMA: *confused at first* Faraday-? *nods understandingly* Of course! Of course! He’s in the room just over-

Faraday: *walks in, rubbing his neck* I heard my name. What’s happening…?

Jasmine: (Takes a moment to examine the lighthouse that may be her childhood friends home, glossing over all its details)

The Lighthouse: (Surrounding the main building is large handmade barrier with two exits, one main that the bridge is leading to and off one side that leads down a dirt path. The main gate that they walked through has a sign that reads, “Traders Welcome” is hanging over it. There’s a neat line of turrets rumbling along the guard posts to ward off anything or anyone that crawls out of the fog with malicious intent. The lighthouse itself seems to be well in the process to be restored to completion. Most of the holes in the walls have been patched up either fully or temporarily with layers of tarp and the roof is completely fixed with new shingles. Prewar times there used to be two porches that lead into the home, but now it seems that the inhabitants have turned the left porch into a new separate room by walling it off)

Dog: (Starts barking up a storm from the inside, not aggressively but to alert the household that they have guest)

Ghoul: (Opens the main door after a few minutes and gives a friendly smile at the small group on his porch as he leans on the doorframe. He’s well around six feet tall and sturdy built for the Wasteland, neatly dressed too in quality homemade work clothes. There’s a bandana covering his brown hair that he managed to keep, and a eyepatch is covering his right eye) “Hello! What can I do ya three for?” (For a ghoul, his voice is surprisingly smooth, could very well pass for human if no one took a look at his face)

Dog: (Curiously pokes her nose from behind the ghouls legs, trying to catch a whiff of the newcomers)

Jasmine: (Suppresses a whimper and freezes when she sees him, blinking slowly at the man from the bottom of her hood. Even though he’s a ghoul and so much older from when they were last together…. she can still recognize him. Somehow he still has that same goofy yet mature Donny look to him that she couldn’t miss from a mile away. Ah, he’s even wearing that stupidly dorky orange shirt under his jacket…)

Donovan: (Completely oblivious to the fact that his Rosalinda from years ago is standing right there a few feet in front of him while he stands there to keep the dog from barging out)

Dogmeat: *walks up and timidly sniffs at the other dog with a small wine, trying to get a good read on her*

Lucille: Hi, it’s about to storm and we need a bit of shelter until it passes. Would you mind letting us in until then? *is not about to lead with “Hi I brought an old friend. We don’t know each other so take my word for it!” That would be suspicious as hell*

Nick: Ah! Faraday! Could you help an old synth out?

DiMA: He says he’s in some sort of “safe mode”. Would you be willing to help him?

Gardio: Lucille said you know a thing or two about this stuff-

Faraday: Of course I do. It’s kind of what I do around here.

DiMA: Faraday, you know you do more than that. Why else would I consult you and Chase?

Faraday: *pauses then sighs* I guess you’re right… *to Gardio* Bring him to the back and we’ll get started.

Gardio: *does so*

Donovan: (Smiles even more warmly) “Hiya there pup.” (Steps aside to let the dog behind him out to greet Dogmeat)

Dog: (Borks happily when she’s free to start sniffing everyone with her tail wagging. She goes straight to greeting Dogmeat, her feet tapping with excitement at a new potential puppy playmate)

Donovan: (To Lucille as he gestures inside) Oh yeah, that’s perfectly fine! These storms sure do come in out of-…”

Jasmine: (Reaches up and pulls off her hood while raising her head, looking at Donny straight in the eye to test him. She’s not walking into a strange house with the chance the household will get hostile when Donovan see who she is)

Donovan: (Completely taken off guard by her sudden reveal of piercing amber eyes that bore into his soul, staring at the girl with his mouth partly open) “I- Wha-….” (Stands straight and slowly crosses the porch to the girl, lowering his voice to a whisper) “Rosalinda…?” (Reaches up and cups her cheek with one hand, checking to make sure his eyes aren’t deceiving him)

Jasmine: (Flinches at him coming close and when he touches her face but she doesn’t push him away, just gives a vague nod while she stares up at him expressionless other than a small glint in her eye)

Donovan: (Getting choked up at the realization that his childhood friend who was taken away from her loving family and friends is standing in front of him, over two hundred years since that awful day and the end of the world) “Rosie!” (Pulls her into a tight hug) “Oh my god…”

Jasmine: (Stiffens a little at the hug and looks at the ground. Ignoring the blaring alarms in her head and the tightness/pounding in her chest, she slowly lifts one arm to give him a half hug back, remaining expressionless)

Donovan: (Pulls back after a moment, gently tilting the young girl’s chin up so he can get a better look at her. His eyes roam her face, sensing that something is very wrong with his Rosalinda. She’s not lively, there’s not even a spark in her eyes) (Softly with concern) “Are you alright? What happened to you, Ro-Ro?”

Jasmine: (Drops her hands to her sides, silently shaking her head while she looks to the floor once more. Rain trickles down from the sky a little more, making the reunion more cinematic)

Donovan: (Raises his head to glance over at Lucille, silently asking who she is and why she’s accompanying a very depressed Rosie)

Lucille: Here’s the truth- we actually came here so she can see you. She’s been through hell- probably worse than that.

Dogmeat: *does the playful stretch with his rear to the air and chest to the ground to show he’s game for playing*

Lucille: I know it doesn’t look like it but her adopted father, Nick, has been giving everything he can to take care of her. And I do mean everything. *urgently* Now can we please get out of the rain? It’s not good for her wounds-

Donovan: (Looks up at the rain that’s starting to pour down like crazy, thunder clapping and the wind blowing strong enough to knock down some wimpy branches off trees) “Wounds? Hell? Oh- yes! Of course!”

Jasmine: (Frozen in place with wide eyes, unsure what to do with herself. She can’t even start to think of the right words to say, it’s all mumble jumble in her mind)

Dog: (Bolts back inside the house when the thunder starts)

Donovan: (Takes Jasmine by the shoulders and quickly guides her inside, closing the door behind Lucille and Dogmeat)

Dog: (Shakes herself out, rolling on her back on the mat that’s in the mud room to help dry off)

Ghoul Woman: (Comes in from the kitchen at the sound of new people in her home) “Donny? Who are our guests?” (Glances out the window and at the sky that’s really starting to drum up to a raging radstorm, lightening being added to the chorus) “And in this weather, are you two dearies lost? Do you need to stay somewhere warm and safe for the night?”

Donovan: (Looks at the ghoul lady, then down at Jasmine who’s trembling) “It’s Rosie, Mama… She’s alive, little Rosalinda made it through the bombs…”

Jasmine: (Initially confused because Donny’s mother lived away from Donovan and his father and also didn’t resemble this woman in anyway)

Ma: (Gets a quizzed look on her face while she crosses the large house to the group) “Come again? Rosalinda? Her? Right here?”

Donovan: (Senses Jasmines confusion) “Tía Evelyn, remember? She ran the cafe-…” (Doesn’t get any further because Ma is already standing by them and staring intently at Jas)

Ma: (Recognizes the teen and immediately drops to her knees and starts fretting over her like a mother would as tears well up in her eyes. She cups Jasmines face with both hands and frantically looks over her features) “Oh, oh! Rosita-linda! Baby girl, look at you! You’re so big now, and beautiful! Dear me- you’re wet and freezing!” (Shrugs off her thin cardigan that’s over her house dress and wraps the girl in it, frowning at how small her frame is) “Honey, how long have you been alone out there? You’re so thin and frail now, look at your pale skin. Sweetie, that’s not like you at all…”

Jasmine: (Getting teary with all the confusing emotions that are making her malfunction because of how familiar and kind these two are. But that triggers the alarms in her head, and those aren’t any fun to deal with while she tries to remain expressionless)

Dogmeat: *shakes himself dry as soon as he’s inside the house*

Lucille: Again, hard to believe but she looks a lot better than when Nick found her. *blinks behind her layers of helmet. She’s choosing to stay in her armor until she knows whether or not she’ll have to fight* Does Commonwealth news make it out here? He’s a well known detective there.

Gardio: *reaches the workshop* Why… is there blood on the ground?

Faraday: Because sometimes this doubles as an infirmary. *pats the operating table. Set him here and then we’ll start.

Gardio: *lays nick out on the table*

Faraday: Now let’s see what’s causing all this… *opens Nick up* Oh… that is a LOT of grime. I��m going to need you to shut down so I can safely clean you out. Can you do that, Nick?

Nick: I don’t like it but sure- anything to make me a real boy again. *chuckles at the reference before shutting himself off*

Jasmine: (Completely motionless while she stares up at the two adults, she looks like she’s both terrified out of her mind and confused)

Ma: (Rushes over to a cabinet to pull out several towels) “Ah, maybe so but I’m not so sure. We just settled down here after living down south for the past two hundred years.” (Puts down a pile for Lucille to use on a little table if she chooses to then goes back to Jas, blotting away the water from her hair and arms) (Worriedly) “Pobrecita…”

Jasmine: (Allows her to do this, barely breathing anymore while her heart roars in her ears. She might’ve started swaying if Ma wasn’t holding her shoulders)

Donovan: (Looks to Lucille with interest and maybe a bit skepticism) “But do tell us, you say this Nick character is her adopted father?” (Looks to Jas for confirmation on this claim)

Jasmine: (Not much help while she’s malfunctioning)

Donovan: (Frowns deeply at his childhood friends unnatural behavior, Rosie wouldn’t act like this. And this lady is claiming she was worse off earlier?)

Lucille: Yes. He’s a very kind man. Has a penchant for helping those in need who have no one else to turn to. *holding the towel awkwardly. She supposes she could dry her armor*

Faraday: *steadily working at cleaning out a Nick’s internals, grumbling things here and there*

Donovan: (Narrows his eyes slightly at this brief explanation) “Hm….”

Ma: (Reaches to help Jasmine take off her soaked vest and jacket so she can hang them up on the coatrack to dry) “Princesa….”

Jasmine: (Catches Ma’s wrist to stop her before she can reach the zipper, eyes glistening with tears while her bottom lip trembles) “Do not call me that…. Do not call me by any of that…..”

Donovan: (Goes back to being concerned for the girl) “Rosalinda?” (Steps closer, kneeling down on one knee to examine her while she shakes. He spots the faint strangle marks that are on her neck, fueling his turning thoughts)

Ma: (Softly) “Okay then…..” (Gently unties the bandana from her hair and strokes her damp curls, tucking them behind her ears. When she does this it reveals to them the bruises on her face) “Sweetie, You’re gonna catch your death if you stay in those wet clothes and shoes….” (Exchanges a look with Donovan)

Jasmine: (Swallows a lump in her throat and quickly zips down her wet vest and jacket, holding them in one hand while she kicks off her muddy shoes at light speed)

Donovan: “Whoa whoa, whoa! Slow down Rosie!” (Catches the girl while she sways and almost falls over from being off balanced, holding her by the shoulders while she flinches)

Ma: (Takes the clothes from her, hanging them on the coatrack before she puts Jas’s shoes on its own rack with the other shoes. She bustles over to a small fireplace by the staircase and starts tossing in wood to make a fire to warm up her guests)

Donovan: (Guide’s a trembling Jasmine out of the mudroom to be closer to the fire, glaring back at Lucille to see what she does as he sits Jas down on the sofa)

Lucille: *following them. She’s staying on alert- anyone that friendly and accepting off the bat without needing something in return is always a bit suspicious after roaming the wasteland for a while, specifically those living IN the wasteland and not somewhere like… 88, Goodneighbor, Diamond City, or even the Railroad or Minutemen’s larger settlements* I want to give you more answers, I really do, but I need to know more about you two first… I’ve heard you’ve helped Far Harbor by keeping them safe in dire situations and I can deeply respect that- they’re good people for the most part. Other than that, that’s all I really know about you, so forgive me if I seem on guard, especially for her sake.

Faraday: Does Lucille EVER do any maintenance on him?

Gardio: Wouldn’t know. We only reconnected a couple of days ago.

Faraday: Reconnected?

Gardio: Yes. You heard right. Reconnected- I’m her father.

Faraday: Interesting. You look nothing a like.

Gardio: *sighs* Imagine I have a full beard and all of my hair.

Faraday: … Still don’t see it.

Gardio: And human.

Faraday: Sorry, I can’t seem to picture it. Are you sure you’re her father?

Gardio: Am I sure- Yes! Absolutely sure! I was there when she was born! *tearing up at the memory of the news of his wife passing, then holding little baby Lucille with only a small tuft of purple hair on her head*

Teshteal: *climbs up like a monkey on Gardio’s back then perches on his shoulders with his hands on his hat with a giant false grin* Hey, hoo! Let’s go walk around the observatory! Meet the locals and have some fun! What do you say, big man?

Gardio: *looks up and sees the stupid look on his partner’s face. He almost writes it off as him being immature but the widened pupils and overall pleaful look in his eyes say otherwise. He cracks a grin* Sure, partner. Sure. Let’s leave him to his work.

Teshteal: *cheers* Yay! *bumps his head on the ceiling* OWIE! *crouches back over Gardio’s head and slumps off his back while clutching his own skull* I forgot how tall you are-!

Gardio: *as he leaves with the gremlin* Surprised- you’ve been staring up at me since your first day on the job.

Teshteal: *complains like a child* I couldn’t climb on you, then!

Gardio: *laughs* You could, you just needed help, which I refused to give.

Teshteal: *over-exaggerated pout*

Donovan: (Puts an arm around Jas as he sits next to her, ignoring Lucille for a moment) “Rosie, are you alright? Please, talk to me….”

Jasmine: (Just sitting there with her arms crossed over her chest, lightly rocking herself as she stares at the ground)

Ma: (Looks extremely worried as she rushes off to bring a blanket to wrap the girl in, carefully tucking it around her shoulders. She glances at Lucille, then at Donny, then back at Jazzy)

Donovan: (Glares back up at Lucille, holding Jas a little more protectively) “And we don’t know you, but we know Rosalinda. And our Rosie she doesn’t act this inanimate, not even in the most horrible moments.” (Rubs the girls shoulder, trying to get a sign of life. Last time he saw her, she was kicking and screaming like she was rage and fury itself, now look at her…) “Her mother was a good woman, she’d be rolling in her grave if we allow something-…”

Young Woman: (Opens the back door and steps aside as the wind blows behind her to let in a hoard of (strangely enough) prewar chickens and roosters into the house. In her arms is a large cage that’s filled with little chicks that peep in protest of being held captive) “Oh, we have guests.” (Looks to Donovan, then at the sopping wet flock) “You were suppose to help me, now they are all wet.”

Donovan: (Apologetic grimace) “Sorry Joyce, I was greeting our guests.”

Ma: (Sighs at all the mud and water the chickens are tracking in, cracking a small smile when when comes up to affectionately nuzzle by her legs) “We need to fix that coop.”

Joyce: (Momentarily sets down the cage of baby chicks and claps her hands, rounding up the flock into one temporary gated area in the living room by shooing them into place with a broom)

Jasmine: (Stares at the flock with wide eyes, getting more confused and overwhelmed)

Lucille: Aww… I haven’t seen prewar baby chicks in so long. Poor little guys… *realizes she’s getting distracted by the tiny chicks in the cage then back to Donny* You want to know my story? Fine. I was a lawyer before the war. I had a family with my best friend- a family I never knew I could have. I won’t bore you with the details, but… *sadly* They’re all dead. Died after the bombs- by one means or another.

Dogmeat: *sniffing at the chickens*

Lucille: *crosses her arms* I still miss when Diamond City was Fenway Park. When the subway lines were used for trains and not raider dens. I used to take them to and from classes at Cainbridge when I lived in Boston. Honestly, if I’m right, this whole island used to be a national park. *points at the floor of the lighthouse* I was frozen for 200 years- even now it still feels like yesterday when cows had one head and all their fur.

Dogmeat: *sensing her sadness, he trots over to Lucille and rubs his head against her leg*

Lucille: *smiles beneath her helmet and pats his head lovingly* Hey boy… *back again to Donovan* As for her being this way? Blame the people that took her, not me. They’re the ones that hurt her and broke her in unimaginable ways. They’re the ones who made eating- a basic necessity for survival- difficult for her and anyone trying to help her. I’m just fulfilling a promise to her father to get her here as safely as I can.

Dogmeat: *affirming bark*

Donovan: (Listens to Lucille’s story with his lips pressed into a thin line when he hears about her family and recount on how things used to be) “So you’re prewar, huh….” (Looks back down at Jas, holding her closer to his side) “And I’ll assume you both had been frozen to be able get here into the future.”

Ma: (Staring at Lucille with interest as she puts more wood into the fire) “And you say that you know people took Rosie. What do you mean by they “broke her”, is that why she’s not speaking to us?” (Rises back to her feet, again tucking the blanket around the girl to help her feel more secure) “What did they do to you, sweetheart?”

Jasmine: (Whimpers softly when she’s reminded of that terrible place, pulling up her knees to her face)

Donovan: (Doesn’t look that convinced, but he’s more worried about Jasmine at the moment. She’s a mere shattered fragment of the bright optimistic girl that he, Ma, her family, and friends adored so much)

Dog: (Proudly showing off to Dogmeat her collection of chew toys and soft dog bed that’s placed right by the fireplace, tossing a stuffed duck into the air)

Dogmeat: *runs up and again does the play stretch after seeing a toy tossed by the other dog. Playful bark*

Lucille: *sees Jas tense up at the mention of the vault. Finally decides to let her guard down due to how earnestly they’re trying to take care of the girl* Probably better if I wrote it down for her sake. Just mentioning that place probably caused a rush of traumatic memories to resurface for her, now. *pulls out a pen and paper from her bag and writes*

The note: “They broke her in every way possible- stripped her of her identity. They experimented on her, forced her to kill innocents, assaulted her- physically and sexually-, probably poisoned her food, and so much more. It was all to make the perfect soldier. The perfect weapon. The only reason I know any of this is because Nick’s been trying to figure out her past so he can better help her. He’s dived into her memories because she won’t talk about it openly and couldn’t at the time. That sounds like a breach of privacy- and in most cases it would be- but she was shutting down to the point it was life threatening.”

Lucille: *decided it would be best to leave out the events that put Jas in that state in the first place. That’s not important right now, especially with them being so on guard around her*

Gardio: *Stops by Aster’s lab* Oh, hello. This is a nice horticulture lab.

Aster: Oh- thank you! It certainly gives me something to do around boring old Acadia.

Gardio: Come on, surely there’s other things that happen here.

Aster: There is but there’s not much to it. Some of us take up fixing things, others run the shop. I, as you see, grow and experiment on plants! *soft chuckle*

Gardio: So no art? Self expression of any sort? Is it prohibited here?

Teshteal: Does DiMA not like fun?

Aster: No- we just… haven’t figured out how to express ourselves beyond what we know how to do. It might be a few years before some of us break out of our old habits, you know?

Gardio: Ah. I see. *looks around at the plants*

Teshteal: *decides to eat a bloodleaf*

Dog: (Tosses the toy up in the air and over to Dogmeat, willing to share if he wants to play with her)

Dogmeat: *catches it and goes absolutely ham biting it and shaking the toy violently as dogs do. Playfully growls and pins the duck while tugging at its body*

Ma: (Takes the not from Lucille first and her entire face breaks into one of pure horror when she reads the note. She just stands there in shock, eyes watering when she thinks of the bubbly little girl who used to pop her cute head into her cafe with that beautiful smile she always had on) “Dear Lord above….”

Donovan: (Hasn’t read it yet) “Huh, what is it?” (Takes the note from her frozen fingers, quickly glossing over it. He doesn’t say anything, just pulls Jazzy close to his chest with both of his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head)

Jasmine: (Blinking slowly as she’s held, biting her tongue as her brain starts to sort itself out)

Joyce: (Silent as she watches the scene unfold, still holding the cage of chicks while she looks at her two friends grim reactions. She has no idea what’s going on, or who Jas and Lucille are, or if she should just back out of the room)

Fishermen: (Comes in from the door that leads to the lighthouse with a hearty laugh, stopping dead in his tracks when he reads the room) “Uh, is this a bad time?”

Ma: (Rises to her feet, plastering on a forced smile) “No, it’s fine. The soup is almost ready, you boys up there must be hungry.” (Rushes off to the kitchen mainly to calm down, wiping tears off her face. She motions to the fisherman to quickly follow her into the kitchen, to which he obeys wordlessly)

Lucille: I believe Nick hoped seeing you would help her open up. Maybe even bring some of the kid you used to know back, even just a little. He can only do so much…

Gardio: Say- have you considered making paints from the plants? You could make murals to liven the place up. *smiles kindly at her*

Aster: I… you know, I never thought about that. People used to use plants as dyes all the time. *nods* Thanks for the idea. *smiles* Maybe I can capture the beauty the aster used to have in a painting.

Gardio: There you go! Perhaps you’ll inspire others to make paintings!

Teshteal: You could paint stuff on wood and sell them to settlements!

Gardio: You’d be able to use trade for diplomatic purposes, build report among the other island residents.

Aster: Oh- I wouldn’t want to usurp DiMA when it comes to handling that.

Gardio: Who said you’d be handing those matters? Others would be making art, too.

Aster: Ah. Good point.

Dog: (Barks happily and starts playing with the other pup a game of keep away)

Donovan: (Speechless at the moment, wondering how severe and downright evil her situation was in order to get Rosalinda of all people to break down like this. God, he doesn’t even want to start imagining the possibilities)

Jasmine: (Blinks as she starts to catch up with all that happened and gets over the initial shock, the burning question that has been driving her crazy in her head for a years coming back. She pulls back from Donovan with more life in her eyes as she stares up at him)

Donovan: (Look down at her and notices this, opening his mouth to say something)

Jasmine: (Bluntly before he can speak) “What happened to them?”

Ma: (Raises her head at the sound of the girls voice and rushes back over to the living room, immediately knowing what she’s asking)

Donovan: (Only stares at the girl when she finally speaks and asks the question, straightening up) “What-?”

Jasmine: (Repeating herself, staring him down with kitten fire) “What happened to them?”

Donovan: (Sighs and shakes his head sadly, thinking of the right words to say to the delicate girl while still processing the contents of the note) “Rosie, hold on a moment-…”

Ma: (Leans on the wall that divides the living room from the dining room, tears on her face as she watches the teen)

Jasmine: (Firmly takes ahold of his wrist, pulling him closer) “They did not die during or after the bombs, I saw their graves. You know what happened to them, so tell me.”

Donovan: (Exchanges a glance with Ma, taken aback by her sudden burst of kitten fire. Still, this feels a little off from her prewar attitude, she still seems petrified about something)

Jasmine: (Quivers a little) “Please, I need to know. I could not figure it out and it has been so long….”

Donovan: (Heavy sigh as he taps his fingers on his knees) “You wanna talk somewhere else?” (Gestures around the crowded and chicken infested living space) “We can go to the attic, we’ve built a sitting area up there.” (Knows what he’s going to say will make her rightfully upset, but once Rosie wants to know something there’s no stopping her…)

Jasmine: (Studies him for a bit, trying to control her trembling as she swallows) “Fine.” (Release his wrist, glancing at her shaking hands as she stands and turns to the staircase)

Donovan: (Also stands to go with her)

@lucilleandherrobots

#Pfffft. Get recked Allen Lee!#My guy got owned by a small girl who was only wielding a knife #Lol Jas was having so much fun there. This is when she can appreciate her given skills #fallout 4 #fallout #fo4 #fallout original character #fallout oc #fallout roleplay #fallout rp

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