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gatorbites-imagines · 3 days ago

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micheal meyers fic if you still write for him? 🎃

I rlly liked your other fics with him, not a big fan of him being characterized as overly affectionate so I rlly liked your kinktober fics about him

something in a similar vein to that? smut or no smut is chill, just him being infatuated in his own creepy way

Michael Myers x male reader

Headcanons

Im happy you like my stuff :3c ive never imagined he was overly affectionate either, it just didn’t feel like it fit his character very much, ya know? No hate to the people who write that, I just like imagining him as a creepy guy, standing there… menacingly…

I think the only way you two could have met where you made a lasting impression is if you were somehow at the same asylum as him. Be it as a doctor or a patient. But I’ve never read a fic where the reader was one of the doctors, so that’s what we’re gonna go with here.

Joining up at smith’s grove sanitarium hadn’t been your first choice, since it was known as a pretty run-down place, that treated their patients more as prisoners than people. It may have been a place for the worst of the worst, but they were still people in your eyes.

You get Michaels attention by somehow wrenching his care from Dr Loomis’s hands, using all kinds of laws and loopholes to rip it from him and then running for the door pretty much. To you, what Loomis did should get him placed in jail and his license removed, as it could only have made his patients states worse.

Building a relationship with Michael is what many would call impossible. But you believed that every person had something special that fueled them, and just being treated like a worthwhile human being always seemed to do the trick.

It took months, if not years for you to really worm your way into Michael’s heart, or whatever was left of it. He hadn’t really had many positive male people in his life, something you also blamed Dr Loomis for, but over time he grew closer to you, in his own way.

To others it may seem like Michael was the same as always, but at this point you’ve worked with him so long that you know him. You can feel his attention follow you, even when you are on the other side of the yard where the patients get sunlight.

It’s no shock that you are most patients’ favorite, especially after you become head of the hospital, after a very long and stressful battle with those stuck in their old ways. It made you start cleaning house, getting rid of bad caretakers and methods to replace them with better ones.

You took it extremely seriously, and would have any so called interviewers or investigators removed from the premises, to not mess with your patients’ care.

You gain a bit of a reputation in the media at how incredibly cruel you can be to the people who wish to use and abuse your patients. Some call you crazy for protecting them, especially as everyone knows Michael Myers resides there.

But to you, it doesn’t matter. You have no spouse, no children, you haven’t talked to your family since you left home at 18, all you truly have is your job, so that is what you use your energy on.

And if a lot of that time is spent with Michael, then so be it. Having Michael actually emote or pay attention to you, is a big step in the right direction in your book. You can never get him to talk, but he does succeed in learning a couple of signs, though you suspect he only does it because he knows it makes you happy.

Later you would look back on Michael’s escape as something you blamed on yourself. Over the long time you had been his caretaker, you always made sure to be there on Halloween, since it was such an important date for him.

He never told you this, obviously, but you could tell. It just happened that you had needed surgery around that time, something you couldn’t put off as much as you wanted. If you wanted to keep caring for your patients, then you needed it done.

So, it truly shouldn’t have been such a surprise for one of your nurses to call you in a panic that Michael had somehow gotten out. Being bedbound, there wasn’t much you could do but give orders from home and watch the tv.

You didn’t technically live in Haddonfield, but you lived close enough that you could bike to town for groceries if you needed to, but also so you could drive to work without much issue.

Seeing no reports of murders outside the usual made you sigh and slump in on yourself. You had put off taking your pain medication, wanting to be clearheaded and aware, just in case you needed to be. And what else kept one clear in the head but pain.

As bedridden as you were, there wasn’t much you could do when you heard your back door open. You only knew it was that door, as it had a loud squeaky hinge you never got fixed, as it wasn’t like you used that entrance much.

Seeing Michaels looming stature shouldn’t have been a shocker either. What did amaze you to a certain, professional extent, was that he hadn’t put on his usual coveralls or mask, instead it was one you two had made together using safe materials.

There was no verbal or physical reply when you spoke to him, outside of a slight rise of tension in his shoulders when he heard you grunt in pain, as you turned to look at him.

You didn’t want to call the hospital, knowing just how volatile Michael could be. And you may have replaced many doctors and nurses, but they still feared him, all but you at least. The only thing you truly could do was speak to him, to make him stay so he didn’t go kill anyone.

Maybe it was the years of care you had given him, but Michael at some point moved closer, just staring down at you and the bandages around your stomach.

You had a feeling he wanted to poke it or maybe just unwrap it, but you had worked with him about other people’s pain tolerance. Michael still only seemed to care when it was you, but you put a lot of stuff in his notes about your professional opinion and growth.

There were worse caretakers than Michael. In all reality he wasn’t really a caretaker. A lot of it was just him standing by the door, in the corner, or right at the foot of your bed to watch you. Hed shuffle after you wherever you went in the apartment, even carrying you when you couldn’t move too much.

you had decided to heal enough to bring him back to smith’s grove when you healed enough, already knowing how violent Michael could be with other people.

To Michael though, this meant more than you meant. He wasn’t one to feel lust or much romantic attraction, but he was drawn to you and attached enough to just stay, to even bring you your pill bottles and water, like how you would to him at smith’s grove.

You theorized it made him happy, in his own way, to know he was helping in the ways he knew how. Another more paranoid part of your brain did worry about what he did when you slept, since the pain medication had that effect.

Nothing ever looked out of place, but you did catch him kneeling beside your bed on more than one occasion, just holding your hand. Or the times hed place your hand on top of his head so you would caress him.

It was inappropriate for a doctor to do such a thing with his patients, but Michael seemed calmer and more at ease when it was just you two. He couldn’t cuddle in bed with you, and neither did he seem to want to, but being held and coddle in small amounts seemingly worked for him.

Michael clearly wasn’t pleased when you took him to return to smith’s grove, but he actually came along without issue. It caused a whole media storm, but over the years you had mastered those too. As long as it helped your patients, then you would do it, to a certain extent.

And if giving Michael weekends at your place where he got to stalk you around your own property was what he needed, then so be it. you saw it as progress, in his own, weird way. Hell, Michael even started sitting and having dinner with you instead of just hovering. To you that was a win, no matter what others said.

#male reader #michael myers #halloween #slasher #michael myers imagine #michael myers headcanon #michael myers x male reader #michael myers x reader #halloween imagine #halloween headcanon #halloween x male reader #halloween x reader #slasher imagine #slasher headcanon #slasher x male reader #slasher x reader #doctor reader

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maybe-im-dark · 2 days ago

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Canuck chronicles

Based on this post

The apartment was unusually quiet, save for the faint rustling of Wade rummaging through the fridge and Logan nursing a beer at the counter. Logan leaned back, boots propped on the table as he sipped from his bottle. Wade emerged holding a sad-looking sandwich, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“So,” Wade began, mouth full of bread, “that guy in the store earlier? Total hoser, eh?”

Logan raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Yeah, caused a real kerfuffle when his card declined.”

Wade snorted, nearly choking on his sandwich. “Best part was when you told him to shut up. And then he got all puffed up like he was gonna fight you—with his Molson Muscle of all things!”

Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “Idiot backed down real quick when i flexed my arms.”

From her spot in the armchair, Al cleared her throat loudly. “Alright, what in the hell are you two on about? Kerfuffle? Molson Muscle? Are you just making up words now, or did you finally fuck your brains out of existence?”

Wade turned to her, scandalized. “Al! These are real words. Canadian classics, baby! Haven’t you ever been north of the border?”

Al’s eyebrows shot up. “I don’t need a geography lesson, Wade. I need you to speak English.”

Logan smirked, leaning back in his chair. “It’s English, all right. Just a little extra flavor.”

“Yeah, it’s like…maple syrup on toast,” Wade added helpfully. “Warm, sweet, sticky—”

Al held up a hand, cutting him off. “Enough about your weird Canadian word soup. Explain Molson Muscle to me.”

Logan grunted, swirling the last of his beer. “Means a guy with a big beerbelly. Molson is a cheap beer brand in Canada. And that guy had obviously one too many.”

“And kerfuffle?”

“Just a fuss,” Logan replied with a shrug. “A little commotion.”

Al groaned. “You two are insufferable. I don’t even know why I asked.”

Wade grinned, plopping onto the couch next to her. “You asked ‘cause you care. Deep down, Al, you wanna be part of the Great Canadian Lexicon.”

Al turned her head in his direction. “I want you to shut up.”

Logan smirked, pushing off the counter and grabbing another beer from the fridge. “She’s just chirpin’, Wade. Don’t take it personal.”

“Chirpin’?” Al echoed, exasperated.

“Trash talk,” Logan clarified, the smirk growing wider.

Wade grinned, throwing an arm around Al’s shoulders. “See, Al? You’re halfway to being an honorary Canuck already!”

“Get your arm off me, Wade,” Al snapped, though she didn’t push him away. “And don’t you dare teach me any more of your ridiculous slang.”

Wade exchanged a conspiratorial look with Logan, who shrugged casually.

“Sure thing, Al,” Wade said with a sly grin. “Wouldn’t wanna cause another kerfuffle.”

Logan snorted, and Al groaned, shaking her head. “I need new roommates.”

The two Canadians, unbothered, clinked their beers together and resumed their playful banter, leaving Al to mutter about where in life she had turned wrong to end up here.

#wolverine #hugh jackman #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool #ryan reynolds #poolverine #deadclaws #fanart #blind al #fanfiction #logan true canadian howlett

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inssertusernamehere · 2 days ago

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I’ve seen Grian’s loyalty talked about a lot, and how he views his ally-ships, and I’d like to give my own view on it.

I feel like the reason for his semi-aloofness can be connected all the way back to Third Life. In Third Life, Grian was Scar’s right hand man. They were very close. They killed for each other, died for each other, lived for each other. Their relationship did start as a debt, but it grew into something more. Even after Grian lost his life and was free from the shackles of their deal, he stayed. They cared for the other like no one else on the server, and where did it get them? One dead, by the other’s hand. So if you look at it from Grian’s perspective, even after he gave his all to Scar, he was still left alone at the top of that mountain. In Grian’s eyes, Scar suffered because of him, and left Grian heartbroken and in tragedy. This would be the start to Grian seeing allies as an inevitable road to misery. His Widow’s curse also doesn’t help this. In every season, each time, he kills or lives past his relationships, and that, plus the desert, taught him that no matter his intentions, he’s the problem. You can also see this in how he talks to and treats his allies. He’ll hold them at arms length, not daring to become too attached, yet he still wants that comfort. He wants to rely on someone, to have that bond. But he’s also terrified of the repercussions later on.

In Last Life he tried his best to hold the Southlands together, even starting the life-trade ritual, but it wasn’t enough. They disbanded, and Grian ended up killing two of the previous members.

In Double Life, Grian was paired with Scar, a bitter reminder of what they were in the desert, as well as what their fate was back then. Grian could see the beginnings of another cactus ring, of another relationship he’ll ruin. So he does what he does best, he pushes Scar away. He becomes secret soulmates with Big B, still searching for that connection even in his abandonment of another. But Grian still cares. He looks after Scar still, staying by his side and caring for him until their elimination.

In Limited Life Grian had the Bad Boys, obviously deeply enjoying their time together and the two other members. But once again it doesn’t last. Grian gave Jimmy the TNT minecart that killed him, and was also there to witness Joel’s death. After their deaths Grian tried to look for connection in the Nosy Neighbors, but it wasn’t the same.

In Secret Life Grian was desperate to find allies, even going far enough the ask the one man that started this whole mess of self destruction. But when Grian finally finds Etho and Cleo, he again tries to be aloof. He even states himself that he’s a wanderer, that he has no ally ties (I forget his exact wording). But he very obviously cares for both Etho and Cleo, again sticking by them until the end and ensuring their safety to the best of his abilities. But again, he outlives them and dies alone.

And finally, we have Wild Life. The Spanners were close, Grian desperately trying to get the other two kills in order to survive. No matter what though, the curse continues. Mumbo and Skizz die because of Grian’s tower, Mumbo exploding and Skizz falling. You can ever further see Grian’s desperation in allies when he is searching for more friends immediately after both of their deaths. Grian isn’t a completely loyal ally, but he wants to be. He wants to put his complete trust in a friend and be able to depend on them. But all his past experiences tell him that doing that will only get him hurt. In all his relationships, the Widow curse persists and leaves him with only regrets and tragedy. Grian can’t escape the curse, so all he can do is try and protect himself the best he can. He does this by keeping people at arms length, waiting for their untimely demise, even possibly dying by Grian himself. He builds walls around himself, even if he so desperately wants to take a sledge hammer to them.

#life series #desert duo #grian #gtwscar #third life #last life #double life #limited life #secret life #wild life smp #character analysis #wild life spoilers #watcher lore #hermitcraft #minecraft #Scarsbythecranewivestotallyreflecsthisbtw

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s4bbatical · 2 days ago

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Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want | Part 4. (Rivals Declan O'Hara x Reader 18+)

see masterlist (PINNED) for all parts

warnings: mentions of sex, cigarette and alcohol use. age gap (reader!22)

━━━━━━☆━━━━━━

Cont’d.

You were still sat in the parking lot. You wipe your eyes with your hands, smearing your mascara before wiping your nose on the sleeve of your coat as you turn on the engine. The radio begins to play Don’t You Want Me by The Human League. You groan as you change the station. Heart Of Glass by Blondie begins to play instead.

“No, nevermind. I hate my life.” You say bitterly, turning off the radio entirely. You begin to drive away with The Corinium in your rearview. “God this is so fucked!” You exclaim to no one, trying to keep yourself level enough to not crash the hunk of metal on wheels.

You manage to drive the rest of the way in complete silence back to your home. You put the car in park, resting your forehead against the steering wheel to cry, very loudly, once more.

A passerby and her child both stare at you like you were mentally unwell, causing you to forcibly smile through your tears and give them a thumbs up. As they clear out of view, you sigh and finally get out of the vehicle.

You kick off your shoes as you enter your apartment, throwing your coat over your armchair. You open your fridge in an instant, pulling out the bottle of wine Taggie had gifted you a week ago.

"Incase of any personal celebrations, y/n." She had told you. To be fair, she never said you couldn't just simply drink it to wallow in pity.

Two hours later and one wine bottle down, you're loudly doing karaoke to your favorite radio station. You've barely had anything to eat due to stress that day, and the alcohol was getting a real grip on you. You're laying on the couch, slurring your lyrics as the phone begins to ring incessantly.

"Go away...!" You moan, covering your ears with a throw pillow. It goes off once again, causing you to finally get up and answer.

"Hello who is this? What do you want?” You say, barely coherent enough for the person on the other end.

"Y/n? Where are you?" You hear Declan say, lots of commotion in the background. He was definitely at Bar Sinister, celebrating with everyone else.

"Home, obviously. You called my landline." You say in annoyance, leaning against the wall.

"I mean, why aren't you here? I wanted to see you and... and talk about things." He says quietly. You could imagine him at the pay phone in the corner of the bar, hiding his conversation from everyone else.

"I'm not coming there." You mumble into the phone, toying with the cord. "Your wife doesn't want me anywhere near you, didn't you know that?" You ask in confusion.

There's a moment of silence before Declan speaks again. "No, I didn't." He says. "That's... I had no idea, y/n. I'm so sorry for bringing you into this." He mutters with an incantation of disappointment behind his words. "I am my own person, I hope you know that. My wife isn't allowed to choose what I do if she lets herself do whatever."

"I know, but I don't want to be the reason you lose your job Declan, or your marriage." You whisper, trying to not cry once again. "I'm sorry, I'm really fucking drunk. I don't know if I can talk right now." You stammer, trying to hold down the bile coming up your throat.

"I understand y/n. But please, let's talk about this." Declan pleas.

"I have to go, I don't feel so good." You hastily hang up the phone, nearly falling over yourself as you make it to your bathroom. You lean over the toilet on your knees, throwing up into the porcelain bowl. You can hear the phone ringing again, but you have no power to answer it again. You lean your head against the seat, groaning. At least you felt a bit better after throwing up.

You eventually get up, retrieving some ibuprofen from your cabinet and popping two in your mouth, running the sink and dipping your mouth underneath it in order to swallow the pills. You knew your liver was spiteful of you right now, but you didn't care as long as you were going to feel better later.

You bring yourself to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it up with water. You take small, consistent sips in order to avoid puking again. You walk over to your couch and put the glass down on the side table, slumping into it as your music continues to blare throughout the living room.

You wake up to loud, repetitive knocks on your door, wiping your mouth clear from drool.

"Fuck I fell asleep." You whisper, looking at the clock. It had only been an hour.

You begrudgingly get up, turning down your radio before walking over to your front door. You undo the latch, opening it to reveal Declan.

He turns and faces you, hand on his hips like an annoyed father. You both stare at each other, Declan taking in how disgruntled you looked. Hair knotted, eyes surely puffy. You must've looked insane.

“Declan? How did you know where I live?” You ask, bewildered by his presence.

His face softens when he sees you. "Don’t worry about that.“ He says. “I got worried when you disappeared over the phone, so I came to see if you were okay." He explains.

“Okay… Well, I’m clearly doing great.” You say weakly, gesturing to yourself.

“Y/n, can I please come in?” Declan asks, frowning slightly.

You nod, stepping out of the way to allow him entrance.

Declan had never been in your apartment before, taking in the layout and decor mindfully. "Your apartment, it's very... you." He comments, looking at the black cat clock ticking back and forth on the wall with curiosity.

"Is that good or bad?" You mumble, closing the front door and locking it.

"Good, very good." He says, turning back to face you. "Seb told me you just got up and left before the interview was over. Did that have anything to do with me?" He says, cautiously stepping closer.

"I'm not gonna lie, I'm still drunk." You admit, holding up a finger. “But, Maud called me at my desk right before the interview. She found out because I left my stupid fucking bra behind by accident and now I have done irreparable damage.” You breathe out, laughing at yourself so you don't cry.

Declan says nothing, slowly taking you into an embrace. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” He whispers into your hair. “I made the choices, not you.”

“But it’s still my fault, too.” You barely say loud enough, a few stray tears leaving your eyes again. You do not reciprocate the hug, simply staying limp in his arms. You had worn yourself down.

“Please, don’t cry.” Declan sighs, pulling back to wipe your tears with his thumb. “I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

Your stomach loudly grumbles, causing you to laugh again. “Sorry.” You say meekly, holding your stomach.

"Have you had anything to eat since this morning?" He asks, furrowing his brows as he grabs your arms.

"No, I haven't been able to keep anything down." You mumble, your stomach grumbling again on cue.

"Jesus, y/n. Please go lay down and watch the telly, I'm gonna cook you something." He says, directing you to your couch.

"I don't really have any groceries. I need to buy some more." You explain as you lay back down, Declan opening your fridge to reveal some skimmed leftovers, two eggs and a block of cheese.

"Mm, I see." He closes the fridge. "I'm gonna go to the store quickly, then. Stay put and keep drinking your water." He says, heading back towards the front door.

"Declan, you don't have to-" You try to say.

"Ah, don't argue please." He turns to you to say. “I’ll be back.” He opens the door and disappears back outside, closing it behind him.

You close your eyes and sigh. With the dull ache in your head and your lack of energy, you had no power to fight with Declan. You were afraid of the consequences of his arrival, but he was just as stubborn as the rest of them. Nothing you could say or do would stop him from giving a damn about you.

About fifteen minutes later, Declan returns. “I hope you like having fruits and vegetables. Taggie’s taught me to be more concerned about my diet, trying to spread the good word.” He says, taking off his shoes after placing two plastic bags worth of groceries on the counter.

“If you can manage to fit all of that in my shitty little fridge, I’ll applaud you.” You say, opening one eye to look over at him. “Thank you Declan. For this.” You say, sitting back up.

“It’s nothing, really. I’m the reason you’re feeling like shit, it’s up to me to change that.” He smiles, although seeming quite tired himself.

“Are you sure you should be here? I’m just worried if anyone–“

“Don’t worry about it. Like I said, what I decide to do is on my own volition. I’m a grown man, y/n.” He says matter-of-fact, leaning over your kitchen counter.

“You should be celebrating with everyone. You shouldn’t be here.” You try to say sternly, crossing your arms.

Declan stands up straight, mimicking your body language. “I told everyone I needed to go home. Taggie and Maud already left before I did so I highly doubt they know, nor care.” He explains, opening a box of pasta. “I hope you don’t mind a simple spaghetti dish, I’m not as great of a cook as you or my daughter are.” He admits meekly.

“Do whatever, I’m not stopping you from anything clearly.” You sigh, laying down once more.

After you and Declan eat dinner together, he allows you to fall asleep with your head in his lap while watching the T.V.

When you wake up the next morning, you found yourself in your bed with your nightgown on somehow, realizing Declan must’ve, quite literally, tucked you into bed.

A piece of paper from your daily planner lies on your bedside table, picking it up as you slowly read it through heavy eyelids.

Y/n,

I hope you slept well, and had pleasant dreams of home. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay around, I would’ve if I could.

With that being said, I want to give you the choice of whether or not you wish to continue with us. I know that I told you no one can affect my choices, and I am firm with knowing what I want; but I do not wish to ignore your needs or wants. You are your own person as well. I care about you greatly, and have found myself more fond of you as time goes on. However, it is not worth being selfish at the cost of your suffrage.

I want what is best for you, and I hope you do too.

P.S., Leftover spaghetti for you in the fridge.

Sincerely,

Declan

You slowly put the paper back down, tucking your knees into your chest as you wrap your arms around your legs. It was Sunday, technically you had until tomorrow to give him an answer if you were to be kind about time.

What were you going to do? You couldn't deny it; you were beginning to fall in love with Declan O'Hara. Quite frankly, you think he might be feeling the same way. Would he leave his wife for you? That would be ridiculous. Everyone cheats on their partners here, but no one divorces. God forbid, right?

You get up finally after staring at the wall for ten minutes, begrudgingly walking into the living/kitchen space. All your dishes were washed and left out to dry, thanks to Declan.

You smile to yourself, grabbing ahold of the phone off the receiver with an idea. You dial Seb's number, waiting a few moments before he picks up.

"Hello, Seb speaking." He says groggily, clearly had been woken up by your call.

"Seb, hi. Sorry for calling at eleven in the morning." You jest, poking fun at his tired voice considering it wasn't even that early.

"Y/n, nice to hear from you. Is everything alright? You don't sound too well." He asks, yawning.

"Erm, no. I don't feel well, I think I've gotten the flu or something." You say, your hangover making you sound like you weren't lying. "Would you mind taking on my tasks at work for the next few days? Tell Tony for me, he honestly scares me too much for me to call him myself." You admit sheepishly, rubbing your forehead. In full honesty, you wanted to avoid the office like the plague. You were at the tipping point of whether or not you go back to America and pretend none of this ever happened.

"Course, I'm sorry to hear about that. Can I do anything for you? Bring you meds or tea of the sort?" Seb offers.

"No, thanks though. I'm just gonna rot with what I've got kicking around here. My mom's a health nut, she sent me here with all kinds of crap." You say, leaning against the wall.

"Alright then. You got it, madam. Take care of yourself yeah?" He says.

"Will do. See you Seb."

"Bye y/n."

You mount the phone back on the receiver, keeping your gaze on it as you continue to lean against the wall. You debated calling Declan as well to thank him for everything last night, but you fought against it. You'd rather sit and hide until you sorted out your mind before speaking to him again. It was only fair, really.

You walk over to your fridge, retrieving the container of spaghetti. You grab a fork as well, making your way to the couch. You turn on the television and begin to eat the leftovers. You didn't care enough to warm it up, you felt like punishing yourself by eating it cold.

As the the week passes, you find yourself indulging in your old hobbies, such as reading and painting. You bought a cheap art set from an art supply store on the shopping strip a few blocks away from your home, and used books from the secondhand shop. Taggie had come to hang out with you twice, chalking up your absence from work due to being homesick. Although your free time was peaceful, you knew better than to waste away instead of going to work.

On the day of Miss Corinium, you had clocked back into work. Seb convinced you to do so, and caught you up with what you missed in the meantime.

"So the Thatcher interview went to James Vereker instead?" You ask in bemusement, walking down the hall alongside your colleague.

"Yep, and Declan did not take it kindly. He took the week off as well, actually. Neither of you have been in until now. People suspect he had more things going on and that was just the final nail in the coffin." Seb says, both of you returning to your desk space.

"Really?" You ask, trying to hide your worries behind gossiping with Seb. It was quite entertaining, really. You wouldn't have expected him to be the nosiest out of everyone else, but you kept getting surprises every other day.

"Yep, drinking like a fucking maniac too." He adds sympathetically. You frown at that statement, becoming increasingly worried for Declan as minutes pass.

"Come on everybody, down to the stage please." Tony exclaims, everyone getting up from their stations.

You make your way down alongside Seb, noticing Daysee hastily walking ahead the two of you.

“Daysee!" You exclaim, the blonde turning around with wide eyes. "I've missed you!" You go to hug her, in which she backs away like a scared cat.

"Sorry, not right now." She quickly whispers, continuing to walk away. She seemed as though she'd been crying.

"What the fuck is happening?" You ask Seb, who shrugs in equal confusion.

As you all make it to the sound stage, you see Declan nearly tripping over his own feet. His eyes land on you, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

“Y/n, long time no see.” He slurs, leaning up against the wall to smile at you.

“Get a fucking grip, O’Hara. What the fuck are you doing?” You seethe, disappointed by his actions.

“What’d mean? The fuck are you doing? Haven’t said a word to me all week.” He mutters, trying to reach for the glass behind you.

You grab his arm tightly, causing his eyes to go wide. “This is not the time nor fucking place for this. I have every right to keep to myself. I’m doing my job and you’re doing yours, right?” You whisper harshly, pushing his arm back to him. You step back and watch as Seb attempts to entice Declan with a mug of water, to which he takes begrudgingly as he keeps his eyes on you.

"Daysee, nice dress." He compliments the blonde as she walks by, who gives him a look of distraught as she begins to cry.

You and Seb instantly look at each other in understanding. He forcefully gives Declan back his blazer before following her.

Declan looks at you with confusion. “What’d I do?” He asks.

“I don’t know, but maybe you can do us all a favour and shut the fuck up.” You retort, following Seb.

You were fuming in that control room.

You sat directly beside Daysee, who gripped your hand the whole time. She barely looked at anyone as she called cues, causing you to trace your thumb over her hand as you tried not to frown yourself. She did not wish to speak on it further or make a bigger deal of it, to which you and Seb both respected as the show had to go on.

James Vereker and Sarah Stratton go on to introduce all the judges, your stomach growing a pit as James says Declan's name, the camera cutting to a very intoxciated O'Hara. "Back in the saddle after his indisposition earlier this week." He quips, the camera then moving onto the last and very, very least man on the panel.

"Ex-prebendary from the Church of England, Reverend Fergus Penney." Sarah says, everyone clapping along at the line up.

Daysee's grip on your hand tightens as Reverend Penny appears on screen, causing you to press your forehead to her shoulder briefly as the show continues on.

You watch as the television screens show Declan seeming rather displeased with who he was sat beside. You begin to realize he may know what has gone on, repositioning yourself in your seat as you continue to watch onwards.

Seb attempts to put a hand on Daysee's shoulder, to which she jumps slightly.

"Don't." You whisper, shaking your head at him as he steps back. You wince as you watch Declan barely manage to fill a glass of water.

"Reverend Penney, are you looking for perfection tonight?" James asks after they showcase a lineup of young, fit women.

"Oh... well, perfection is not my concern. The qualities that I'm looking for in the inaugural Miss Corinium, uh, consists of, uh, a healthy body and sound morals." The old man says, causing you to purse your lips. Hypocrite. You think to yourself.

As if Declan has read your mind, he begins to interject. "You filthy, hypocritical, old git." He spits out, standing up to sucker punch Reverend Penney.

The entire control room gasps at the sight, along with the audience.

"What the fuck is he doing? Cut the feed." Cameron Cook exclaims, everyone rushing to end the livestream.

You race over the the viewing glass, watching Wesley Emerson hold back Declan from fighting furthermore.

"You'll get what's coming to you!" Declan yells, pointing at Reverend Penny.

"He's ruined everything." Daysee says.

You turn around, watching everyone stare in dismay. After a minute of standing in silence by yourself, you quickly make your way through the room, pushing the doors open to find Declan.

As you run doing the hall, you hear commotion in the office.

You watch as Declan pins Tony against the wall, then eventually proceeds to take a golf club and throw it through the glass. You gasp, covering your mouth.

Declan sees you, his face dropping as you both stand there, staring at each other.

Without hesitation, you gather your belongings and begin to head back down the hallway, this time going towards the exit.

"Y/n, wait!” Declan yells, following you down the stairs. "Y/n, stop! I need to talk to you!"

You push through the rotating entrance door, taken aback by Freddie and Rupert waiting with a car right in front.

"Y/n, are you okay? Do you need a lift?" Rupert asks, noticing your bewilderment as Declan charges outside behind you.

"No, I have my own car. Thanks though." You say, attempting to walk away.

"I just quit my job." Declan says suddenly, directed towards everyone. You look back at him with wide eyes.

"Get in the car, lads. Let's get rat-arsed." Freddie suggests, Rupert opening the door for Declan.

"Y/n, please let me talk to you." Declan pleas once more, standing in front of you with his back towards the other two.

"Declan," You sigh, looking up at him. "About what?" You ask, throw your arms up then dropping them. You watch him fail to answer, as you two were not alone. "Give it up. Go get rat-arsed, or whatever." You say, squinting in confusion as you say the sentence yourself.

Declan grabs your arm, looking into your eyes. "Please, y/n."

"You’re drunk, Declan." You say firmly, pulling your arm away. “Grow up.” You mutter bitterly.

You watch as Rupert forces him into the car, the door slamming as Declan continues to stare at you through the window. You shake your head in disappointment.

"Y/n..." Rupert says, causing you to look at him instead. "I see how he looks at you." He whispers, smiling with sympathy. "If you really care about him, it's worth fighting for. Believe me." He says, causing your eyes to widen. Did he know too?

"And why should I listen to you?" You say quietly, raising a brow at him.

"Because, I can tell when something is worthwhile than most. Also, between you and me, he seems happier with you around." He adds. "Just trust me." He says, placing a hand on your shoulder before dropping it. "Think about it, yeah?" He finishes, getting into the car before Freddie drives it away.

You stand still for a few seconds, watching the car disappear as you process the day that had fallen upon you. It was rather ludicrous how your first day back after sick leave left you in shambles, but could you expect anything less? Your internship was making you question whether or not journalism was even the career choice for you. It was becoming redundant.

You sigh, making your way to your car.

You were sitting in your armchair, attempting to focus on your Murakami novel. Your mind was going a thousand miles an hour, trying to process every single thing that has happened within the past month. It had been two weeks since you last saw Declan, and you were sure you'd never see him again as he did not attempt to reach out to you in any way since his departure at The Corinium.

Tony Baddingham had made you all begin to sign contracts, having to hand them in by Friday as a form of devotion and to not hand yourself off to Declan O'Hara and his band of misfits. Apparently, he was attempting to start up a company to take down Corinium.

As your mind consumes you, you quickly head over to your phone, dialing Seb as per usual.

"Seb speaking." He says.

"Seb, this is fucked up. What is happening?" You ask, biting your nails in a nervous tick.

"I don't know." He sighs. "I can't lose my job, y/n. I have to stay at The Corinium."

"Well, me neither. I'm with you on that." You say. "Do you think Tony's going to start firing us? I can't go back home, this job is all I've got." You explain, your hand white knuckling the cord of your phone.

"No, I don't think so. He’s got us signing papers for god’s sake. What's the worse that can happen? We haven't done anything to make Lord Baddingham think we're with Declan, have we?"

You go quiet for a moment before clearing your throat. "Right, course not. That would be ridiculous." You say, grabbing the back of your neck.

"I'll see you on Monday. It's alright, y/n. We've got each other." He reassures.

"Right, course. Bye Seb." You say, hanging up the phone.

As soon as you hang up the phone, your receiver starts to ring. You pick it up once again in confusion.

"Hello, who is this?" You ask.

"Y/n, it's Taggie." She says quietly.

"Taggie, love, hi. Did you want to come over?"

"...Can I? I feel like my house is falling apart. I could use your company."

"Well of course. Is everything alright?" You querie.

"No, not even in the slightest. I'll tell you once I get there."

"Yeah, no problem. See you soon."

"See you."

You hang up the phone again, groaning loudly. "I swear to god if it is possible to have a heart attack at twenty two it will happen to me of all people." You say to yourself, putting your head in your hands as you rub your face.

About twenty minutes later, Taggie enters your apartment. You gave her a spare key the last time you came over, figuring it would be nice to allow her to come over and keep you company whenever.

"Y/n, I feel like I'm going fucking crazy." She exclaims, taking off her sneakers.

"Do you need a glass of wine or...?" You suggest, already pouring two.

"Well, if you insist." She tries to jest, leaning against the counter as she presses her hands to her temples.

"What's going on?" You ask, sipping your own glass.

Taggie sighs heavily before speaking. "My mum's gone to London, and I don't think she plans on coming back." She says quietly, staring at the counter. "I would be more upset, but I think my parents giving up on each other was a long time coming." She admits, taking a deep sip of her glass.

"What?" You say, nearly choking on your own wine. "Your mom's leaving Declan?" You ask in dismay.

Declan’s washed up attitude was now finally making sense, and you began to feel guilty for not trying to reach out to him. You figured you were doing what was best, but maybe you were too narrow-minded to really know the answer to that one. You couldn’t help but feel a bit excited over the news.

"Yeah... At least I think she is. She left to rejoin the theatre, which means she definitely will cheat on my dad again so I think he gave up on her.” She says quietly.

“I’m sorry Tags.” You whisper, frowning. You hated to see her upset, any person in their right mind could never wish that upon Taggie.

“Not only that,” She continues on. “Rupert and Freddie have created a television company with my father in hopes it'll take out Corinium. Rupert's idea, in order to help my father pay back his debts.” She says, wincing as she finishes off her glass in another large gulp.

"Yeah, I heard about that. Christ um, that's a lot Taggie.” You pause for a moment. “Rupert really cares about you, doesn’t he?”

Taggie shakes her head slowly. “I don’t think he’s doing all this for me, y/n. That’d be absurd.” She tries to argue.

“Right, because he must be so in love with your dad.” You muse, raising your brows.

"That’s not the point!” She groans. “I want you to join us, y/n." She says, offering you a smile. "Well, I want them to hire you so you can leave the Corinium and still keep your work visa. Does that feel sound to you?" She asks, standing up straight.

You put your glass down, engulfing Taggie in a hug. "God, I could kiss you right now." You say, sighing with relief. "Do you really think this'll work? I'm just worried, cause they've got us signing contracts at Corinium." You ask, sitting back down on your stool.

"Mmm, I’ve heard about that myself." She says. "I accidentally came across Charles Fairburn when I was trying to get signatures. He's already willing to be on our team as a mole." She grins. "I'm not forcing you to do the same, but how do you feel about working for Venturer, y/n?" She asks, placing her hand down on the counter.

"Venturer? That's what they've called it?" You hum, picking up your glass and taking another sip of your wine.

You couldn’t figure out whether or not this was a good choice to make. Realistically, this could potentially send you straight back to America. On the other hand, the reason why you took on journalism was to do something you truly loved, which was speaking for the people. You knew if Venturer made it out alive, you’d have a bigger voice on the team.

Plus, maybe it was worth seeing Declan again. Deep down, you still cared greatly for him. It was your own fault that you had confrontation issues and blew up the situation bigger than it had to be.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll do it." You say, causing Taggie to grin from ear to ear.

"Yes! I knew you'd say yes." She cheers, jumping slightly on the spot. “We’re hosting dinner at our house tomorrow night for the team. Care to join us?” She asks, her blue eyes lighting up with joy.

“Yeah, absolutely. How can I say no to a Taggie special?” You grin, the both of you laughing together. You were so grateful for Taggie, it seemed like whenever the two of you spent time together, something always turned around for the better.

You find yourself standing front of The Priory the next day. It had been quite awhile since the last time you were there, you couldn’t help but take in the view.

Suddenly, Gertrude comes barrelling around the corner at you. You kneel down, greeting the dog eagerly. “Oh hi baby! I missed you!” You coo, hugging the dog and scratching behind her ears. You hear footsteps, looking up and meeting Taggie’s eyes.

“I’m glad you made it.” She says with a smile on her face. “Everyone’s in the back by the garden. Follow me.” She gestures for you to do so, causing you and Gertrude to both make way to the garden.

As you turn the corner, you’re instantly greeted with Declan’s eyes. Rupert was in the middle of speaking to him when he follows his gaze, smirking when he notices you as well. There were others also sat around the table, a few you recognize and some you don’t.

You give Declan a warm smile, watching him reciprocate it as you sit down across from him, following your nametag.

“Y/n, lovely seeing you.” Freddie says, giving you a classic grin as you chuckle lightly.

“Likewise. It’s been a long few weeks, hasn’t it?” You comment, thanking Rupert when he gets up and pours you a glass of wine. You feel your cheeks warm up as you notice Declan’s eyes never leave you, although you were trying your best to look elsewhere.

“Tell me about it. You’re still at Corinium?” Rupert asks, sitting back down.

“Unfortunately. But erm, if you guys will have me I’ll gladly leave. It just depends on how it’ll go with my work visa and all that. Might have to reapply.” You say, shrugging as you sip your wine.

“We’d be more than happy to do so, y/n. Right Declan?” Rupert quizzes, nudging his frozen friend.

Declan blinks rapidly, clearing his throat. “Right, course. We’d love to have you.” He says quietly, looking down at the table briefly before looking at you again.

“Dinner is served!” Taggie announces, carrying out plates with Caitlin and Patrick, both who have returned home from school.

“Hi y/n.” Caitlin says, giving your shoulders a squeeze after she serves your a plate. You smile at her widely.

“So, how has it been without Maud in the house?” Rupert asks, causing half the table to light up in commotion and the other half to stay quiet.

“Rupert.” Lizzie says firmly, smacking his arm.

“What? Sorry I just wanted to know is all, christ you people are no fun.” He remarks, taking a bite of his food.

“It’s been quiet.” Taggie says suddenly, causing you all to fall quiet. “It feels more peaceful, in a way.” She admits, placing down the last plate of food. “Everyone, please enjoy.” She says, finally sitting down beside you.

You look across the table at Declan, who’s looking down at his feet. You taste the first few bites in silence, keeping your gaze on your plate as you listen to other conversations around you. You decide that maybe it was now or never to have a chance to speak with Declan. You just needed to step out briefly.

“I forgot something in my car, I’ll be back.” You say, getting up from your seat. Declan watches you exit dinner, disappearing around the corner.

“I’ll go get us another bottle of wine.” He says, getting up and re-entering the house.

You figured he wasn’t going to bother speaking to you, your heart sinking as you still walk over to your car incase anyone was watching. You lean up against the beater, biting at your nails.

Nearly jumping to your feet, you hear the front door open, revealing Declan. You realize he must’ve gone through the house to avoid suspicion.

He slowly approaches you, hand in his pockets as he halts about five feet away from you.

You turn to face him properly, clearing a few strands of hair from your face as you cross your arms.

“Hi.” He says timidly.

You’ve never seen Declan so reserved before, it was almost humorous.

“Hi.” You say back. “Nice shirt.” You comment, pointing to the Venturer graphic across his firm chest.

“Thanks. Taggie ordered ‘em. You can have one too if you’d like, they’re inside.” He says, giving you a smile. “Um, how’ve you been?” He asks.

“Been better. Trying to keep myself level, it’s not very easy apparently.” You try to joke, pursing your lips. “I’m sorry about the whole Maud thing. I mean it.” You say, shifting your weight from off the car. “You’ve always deserved better.” You mumble.

He nods slowly, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah well, I insisted she go and be happy. It wasn’t cutting it for her here, she was happier in London and I’m happier here. Nothing stays linear.” He admits, shrugging. “I’m beyond it. I mourned our relationship ages ago.” He adds.

“Do you… miss her, at all?” You ask quietly.

“I miss the person I fell in love with. I think that woman and the one she is now are two completely different people.” He says, smiling sadly.

You nod slowly in understanding. “Do you still love her, then?”

Declan bites the inside of his cheek, pausing in deep thought. “I care about her, but I don’t think she is who I really love anymore.”

You furrow your brows at his response. “I don’t think I understand what you’re saying.”

Declan takes a few steps closer to you. “Y/n, I missed you, a lot.” He admits. “The last time I saw you, I figured that you never wanted to see me again. I wanna know if that’s true or not.”

You drop your arms, staring at Declan as your heartbeat increases rapidly. “Of course I wanted to see you. I just– God, you didn’t call me for two weeks Declan. You didn’t even try to see if that was really how I felt.” You try to argue.

Declan scoffs. “I could say the same, y/n. I didn’t call you because I thought you were crossed with me! The way you spoke to me on my last day at Corinium? How can you expect me to reach out when you gave me the impression that whatever this was-“ He gestures between you two. “-was over with.” He exclaims.

“I don’t know! I figured with the note you left for me that I was worth a call, or even a visit! You drive me fucking crazy because I fell for you, Declan!” You exasperate, Declan’s eyes widen at your statement. “Even if you thought I wanted nothing else to do with you, you could’ve at least tried to–!”

“You have feelings for me?” He whispers.

You pause for a moment, scoffing. “Seriously? That’s all you got from that?”

He steps in close and grabs your face, kissing you desperately.

You don’t react at first, taking in the moment as you begin to kiss him back.

After about 20 minutes, the two of you are entangled in the backseat of your car. It took you by surprise that it was even possible to have sex in such a small car, but with the right person– anything is possible.

“I missed this.” You say, humming with your eyes closed. You were sitting on his lap with your head tucked into the side of his neck, your bare torsos pressed against each other.

“Me too.” Declan whispers. “So you like me, eh?” He says, tucking hair behind your ear with a grin. The windows were foggy and your skin was sticky, it felt like a scene from a movie.

You pull your head back and roll your eyes. “I wish I would’ve said it in a better way but… yeah, I think so.” You admit, looking down.

He grabs your chin and lifts it up, forcing you to make eye contact again. “When I said Maud isn’t who I really love anymore, I was referring to you.”

“Ohhh… That makes more sense now.” You say, laughing quietly as Declan shakes his head.

“I thought you were taught literacy in school, y/n.”

“Oh shut the fuck up, Declan.” You say with a smile. “I could stay like this forever.” You whisper.“But we need to get back to dinner before anyone sees us.” You say, earning another kiss from him. You laugh against his lips, his mustache tickling your nose as his embrace around you tightens. “I’m serious, you idiot.” You muse, smacking his arm.

“We’ll talk more about this later.” He says, winking as he places a firm smack on your arse.

“Hey!” You exclaim, rolling your eyes as the two of you begin to redress yourselves before getting out of the car.

Declan goes back through the house, showing up about two minutes after you.

“Where’s the wine?” Rupert asks Declan, raising a brow as his eyes scan over the both of you.

“Ah, couldn’t find the one I was looking for.” He simply says, making brief eye contact with you as you both sit back down.

You couldn’t help but continuously smile through the evening, even kicking your feet a little underneath the table whenever Declan spoke.

You knew it was going to be difficult to tell anyone, but at least you knew Rupert was on your side, even if that wasn’t the most ideal person. Besides, you had a feeling something was going on between him and Taggie; they basically had sex with their eyes whenever they were in a room together. There was little to hide, and it assured you that Taggie wouldn’t be that distraught with the idea of you and her father. Hopefully.

As the evening led on, guests start to leave The Priory, leaving you and the O’Hara’s to get ready for slumber.

You had just finished up saying goodnight to Taggie and Caitlin when you entered the guest bedroom, smiling when you see Declan laying upon the mattress. He was reading your book, glasses on that made him look like a history professor.

“What’re you doing here?” You quiz, walking over to the bed.

“Mm, my bed felt too lumpy.” He mumbles, placing the book on his chest.

“Is that so, princess and the pea?” You say sarcastically, climbing in beside him. You grab the book and place it on the bedside table, allowing yourself to cuddle up beside him with your head on his chest.

Declan wraps his arm around you, keeping his other hand behind his head as he traced his fingers along your bare arm. “Nice book you’ve got there. Maybe you’d be interested in proofreading my Yeates piece.” He suggests, in which you hum in response.

“I’d be honored.” You smile, looking up at him. “Are you gonna tell anyone about us?” You ask quietly. You were afraid of any answer he was going to give, in full honesty. Having to deal with a public relationship between the two of you may do more harm than good.

“I think I’d have to ask you to be my girlfriend first, y/n.” Declan jests, placing his glasses on top his head.

Your cheeks flush, causing you to hide your face in his chest. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.” You mumble, causing Declan’s chest to vibrate with laughter.

“No, don’t be sorry love.” He squeezes your arm, causing you to look up again. “Y/n,” He clears his throat before continuing. “Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks.

Your stomach flutters as a big smile stretches across your face. “Controversially young girlfriend you say? Yeah… I think I could do that.” You say, sitting up and bringing your legs over to be on both sides of his hips.

“Is that what people call it now?” He muses, looking up at you. “Hm, has a ring to it.” He mumbles, pulling your face into his as he begins to kiss you for what felt like the thousandth time that night.

You both had eventually fell asleep in each other’s arms at some point, finding yourself groggily waking up to the sound of commotion downstairs in the kitchen.

Declan is nowhere to be seen, assuming that he had already gotten up for the day.

You sit up and stretch, smiling lazily to yourself. You put on your own Venturer shirt, staying in a pair of pyjama bottoms you had borrowed from Taggie as you make your way down the stairs.

You are greeted with the sight of the Venturer Team once again, everyone discussing something rather solemnly.

“Good morning!” You say, your smile faltering when everyone looks at you with differentiating facial expressions– all mainly of concern.

Taggie walks through the crowd with a frown as she hands over a newspaper, pointing to the cover.

There were photos of you and Declan printed out on the front page, along with Taggie and Rupert. The headlines were accusing of them preying on younger women, most definitely the doings of Tony Baddingham.

You read the article over and over, your eyes widening with every sentence. You shamefully lower it from your gaze, looking at everyone else.

Well, fuck.

SHIT…. Fawk… again i know im literally the one writing this but im like 😐🙁😭 why can no one catch a fucking break. brutal

thank you for the support, this series now has over 100 notes just the first part alone YAYY. thank you for your love and devotion. this new part is my gift to you.

i’m hoping to make the next part the last part but i’m quite sure i said the same thing two parts ago so whatever don’t hold me accountable. CHEERS!

as always,

isabel

#aidan turner #declan o’hara #declan o'hara x reader #declan o'hara x you #rivals #rivals fic #rivals 2024 #declan o'hara imagine

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rhiannonsknife · 1 day ago

Text

── ❆ DAY 01: christmas with rhiannon lewis

— summary: your first christmas with rhiannon hcs.

— warnings: mostly just fluff. established relationship. gn!reader. some nsfw below the cut. fem!reader for the nsfw hcs. mdni. based on a request from 🦔 anon.

— a/n: it‘s december 1st, you know what that means….

rhiannon, who used to hate christmas.

growing up, christmas was more of a reminder of what rhiannon didn’t have than a celebration. her dad obviously tried his best, but the lack of warmth from anyone else in her life left her feeling even more lonely than usually. she hated the way other kids would brag about their perfect holidays, their picture-perfect family moments that felt so far out of reach to her. her kill lists, around that time of the year, mostly consisted of everyone who’s even remotely excited for christmas: the people who work at the supermarket and start putting up christmas decor mid-october. the tourists who come for the holidays and make going out a living hell. the coworkers who care enough to organize a mini christmas party that i will have to attend to…

rhiannon, who still hates christmas when you come into her life.

she might even openly scoff at your initial attempts to bring up christmas plans to her. “it’s all a load of crap, isn’t it? people pretending to be nice for a few weeks when they’re awful the rest of the year”. “not much of a christmas person?” you ask in return. your joyful tone is irritating her already. she’s been avoiding the holiday whenever possible; no decorations, no presents, not even festive movies. but that was all before you.

rhiannon, who actually changes her mind because of you.

the first time she reluctantly agrees to celebrate christmas with you, rhiannon is wary to say the least. she’s convinced it’ll either be over-the-top, fake, or just another day of her feeling like an outsider in someone else’s happiness. by then, you’ve obviously figured out why rhiannon hates christmas so much and you’re determined to change her mind. you’re careful with your plans, though, wanting to make her feel comfortable rather than overwhelmed. whether it’s a quiet evening for just the two of you or inviting her to your family’s celebration, you make it clear that she’s not a guest: she’s part of everything.

decorating the whole house with rhiannon.

when you show up with a large stack of boxes on her doorstep in late november, rhiannon tries to talk you out of the idea the second she spots tinsel poking out of one of them. “it’s not even december yet” she cries as you carry them down the hall. you just hush her and set them down. “it’s almost december”. regardless of her first reluctance, she’s surprisingly easy to convince, thanks to your enthusiasm. within minutes, she’s tangled in christmas lights, grumbling about how “this better not end up on your instagram.” turns out that rhiannon takes decorating surprisingly seriously, adjusting ornaments until they’re “just right” and pretending she doesn’t care when she actually loves the process. you catch her smiling as she hangs a particularly sparkly ornament, feeling like a kid all over again. in the end, the whole house looks more festive and lively than she has ever seen. (which lowkey heals her inner child <33)

also: getting rhiannon an advent calendar!!

you surprise her with an advent calendar on the last day of november. at first, rhiannon doesn’t get the point of it. “what’s the big deal? it’s just chocolate” by day 3, she’s fully invested, and you catch her sneaking ahead to open more than one door at a time. if the calendar has little trinkets or personalized notes, she gets flustered but cherishes each one. by the time she realizes you’ve put so much thought into it, she’s hooked and already begs you for another one next year!

christmas shopping with rhiannon.

well she’s obviously the type who will roll her eyes at the sight of overly commercialized christmas displays, muttering something under her breath about how “it’s just a cash grab” or how “no one actually needs a twelve-foot inflatable santa” and, sure, she’s got a point but she does enjoy getting presents for you!! rhiannon genuinely wants to make christmas special for you, even if she doesn’t say it outright. present shopping, though? now that’s a whole ordeal. it’s been ages since she’s shopped for someone she truly cared about, and the pressure is on. she overthinks every little decision. if you go shopping together, she drags you to every possible store to “just look” but you know she’s subtly trying to figure out what stuff you like the most so she can surprise you later. as you browse the aisles, you notice the way her eyes flicker to everything you touch or linger on a little too long. when she finally picks one out for you and hands it to you later, you obviously end up loving it! that’s only when her worried expression turns into the softest, most genuine smile. “see? told you i’m good at this!”

speaking of going out together: christmas markets with rhiannon!

rhiannon grumbles the entire way to the market, hands stuffed deep into her jacket pockets as she complains about how crowded it’s going to be. “do we really have to do this? it’s just overpriced junk and pushy people,” she mutters, though she doesn’t stop walking beside you. still, you’re determined to give her the whole couple’s christmas experience. rhiannon does change her mind, kind of, when you reach your destination; surrounded by twinkling fairy lights and the warm smell of roasted chestnuts, her eyes betray her. she keeps up her indifferent act at first, sticking close to your side and offering sarcastic commentary about the stalls. but then she spots a table filled with handmade ornaments or vintage trinkets (or maybe sylvanian families…) and suddenly she’s not so aloof anymore. when you finally stop for hot chocolate, rhiannon insists she’s only getting one because it’s freezing, not because she actually wants it. but the way she lights up when they hand her a cup piled high with whipped cream and sprinkles says otherwise.

baking christmas cookies with rhiannon.

you obviously have to convince rhiannon to bake cookies with you, and though she claims she’s “not a baker,” she quickly gets competitive about who can decorate their cookies better. tink would probably constantly get in the way, trying to steal a bite, and rhiannon has to put her back down to the floor time and time again. also: from the moment you start, rhiannon makes it clear that she’s not taking this as seriously. she insists on tasting the dough (“quality control,” she claims with a wink as she dips her finger into the bowl) and keeps sneaking bites until you swat at her hand. she might even flick flour at you if you ever try to scold her for it. when the cookies finally go into the oven, the chaos settles. you sit on the counter, letting your legs dangle as the warm scent of cinnamon and sugar fills the air. rhiannon leans against the counter between your knees, her hands lightly resting on your thighs as you talk and laugh. suddenly, and with no warning, she leans up and kisses you, her lips warm and sweet from the dough she’s been sneaking. “now, what was that for?” you ask, a little breathless and smiling against her mouth. rhiannon shrugs. “my reward for all my hard work, obviously”

rhiannon who’s terrible at wrapping presents.

and when i say terrible i mean it! she might know how to work her way around knives but give her a roll of tape and wrapping paper, and suddenly she’s out of her depth. the tape ends up everywhere but where it’s supposed to go and the wrapping paper is a mess: there’s tape stuck to her fingers, uneven cuts of paper barely covering the gift, and an entire corner left exposed. at least her effort is endearing. also rhiannon who lowkey gets so unnecessarily angry at the wrapping paper and/or the tape (probably both, let’s be real). when the tape decides to stick to itself instead of where it’s supposed to go, rhiannon snaps, tossing the mangled roll onto the table with a growl. “stupid piece of- why does anyone even do this?!”you have to turn away so she won’t see you giggling…it’s simply too endearing to watch someone so capable be so thoroughly defeated by something as mundane as wrapping paper. when she starts yelling at the paper itself, calling it “cheap” (amongst other words starting with c) and accusing it of conspiring against her, you can’t hold it in anymore. you turn away, this time, biting your lip to keep from laughing out loud, but rhiannon catches you anyway. “oh, you think this is funny, huh?” she snaps, crossing her arms. when you finally face her, your giggles spilling out, she can’t help but crack a smile. “maybe i should just leave the gift unwrapped,” she grumbles, handing you the mess in defeat. “here. you do it. i’ll just…supervise” and supervise she does: leaning over your shoulder, her chin resting on top of your head, as you salvage her disaster. every so often, she’ll mumble something about how ridiculous the whole tradition is and how she’ll dig up the grave of whoever invented it to kill them all over again.

rhiannon’s reaction to being genuinely spoiled for the first time though <33

she doesn’t expect you to get her anything: she’s not used to people going out of their way for her. at first, she hesitates, eyes scanning the gifts with a look of disbelief, like they’re some kind of elaborate joke. rhiannon crosses her arms, giving you an almost embarrassed smile. “you didn’t have to do all that for me,” she mutters, her voice low and uncertain. she looks almost as though she expects the presents to vanish if she reaches for them, like she isn’t allowed to accept something so genuine. her expression softens more and more as she opens each gift. whether it’s something practical, sentimental, or simply ridiculous, she’ll treasure it all the same because it came from you! (also; getting her a new set of knives??)

bringing rhiannon to your family’s annual christmas celebration!!

she’s stiff at first, unsure how to fit in and overwhelmed with the idea of not knowing what to do and how to act. but when she sees how warmly they welcome her, it’s clear that she’s not used to this kind of genuine affection. she might even retreat to another room for a moment to collect herself, embarrassed at how emotional she feels. when you find her there, hiding in your childhood bedroom, you’re so worried at first. “we can go” you offer, already reaching for your coat. “i’m sorry, i didn’t know this would be too much for you”. “no” rhiannon assures, gently shaking her head. “no, it’s not. it’s just- everyone’s so nice. i always thought it was just…for other people. not me” you reassure her that this isn’t a one-time thing: this is her new normal now. rhiannon belongs here, with you, and you’ll make every christmas just as special for her!! <3

rhiannon and all the small, sweet moments leading up to christmas.

on cold nights, she’ll always insist you take her coat or scarf to keep warm. people are not the only dangers rhiannon will keep you safe from. other nights, after a long day, the two of you sit together, gluing glitter onto homemade ornaments for the tree. rhiannon’s ornaments end up a little…wonky (some are lopsided, others are more glitter than wood) but they’re hers, and that’s all that matters. you also notice that she, despite her insistence that she “hates christmas music,” begins to hum along with the songs playing on the radio as you decorate the tree. she tries to cover it up too but you definitely caught that line of “last christmas” slipping from her lips. you also surprise her by getting some stupid santa hat for tink. at first, she rolls her eyes and calls it stupid, but the sight of her little dog in festive gear has her quietly giggling.

— some nsfw below. mdni.

surprising rhiannon with a christmassy lingerie set.

as cliche as she might find it at first, her mouth does water at the sight of you when you call her into the bedroom, where she finds you in a lacy, red lingerie set. it clings to your body just right and the thin fabric leaves little to her imagination. “merry christmas. you grin at her. “i thought you might like this. a little something for the occasion…” you’ve got one hand propped up on your hip, the other beckoning her over. god, she doesn’t have to be told twice; instantly tumbling towards the bed to join you. that night, rhiannon is all over you, taking her sweet time to take each lacy item off as she runs her hands all over your body. “it’s like unwrapping a present” she grins sheepishly as she kisses down your stomach, fingers teasingly brushing underneath the lacy hemline and pressing against your clit before dragging the panties down with her teeth.

rhiannon who uses christmas as an opportunity to gift you new things to try out.

maybe it’s her first time trying out strap-on sex. she’d be so shy to bring it up, blushing furiously while her hand is fumbling with the bag in which she keeps her purchase. “we don’t have to” she mumbles nervously. “i just thought it could be- eh- fun”. you roll your eyes affectionately, taking the bag from her to finally see what she’s keeping inside. your jaw drops a little bit when you pull out the dildo, a bottle of lube and a harness. “look-” rhiannon says quickly “we can just pretend this never happened if you don’t like it, okay?” but you do like it. so much, in fact, that you have to put it on her immediately and the two of you spend christmas eve in bed together, trying out various new positions: you suck rhiannon off for the very first time, and she finally gets what all the hype was about when she sees you on your knees before her, running her fingers through your hair as you choke on the strap. then, she asks you to ride her. and this time, she actually has both hands free to do whatever while she can watch you bounce, which rhiannon makes good use of: she roams your whole body, eagerly groping your breasts, holding your hips and rubbing your clit. by the end of the night, you’re shaking all over and fall asleep in her arms.

post celebration sex with rhiannon.

when you fall into bed together after a long, but great day of festivities, you’re both way too full of pent-up energy to go to sleep. instead, you use the other as an outlet for said energy: you go from cuddling lovingly, to slowly grinding against each other underneath the thick blankets, warming up in the freezing cold room. slowly kissing down her body or having her sit on your face, giggling quietly when your old bed won’t stop squeaking with every single move, in spite of your attempts to be quiet. literally worshipping every inch of her skin your mouth can reach, showing her just how grateful you are that she came along and that she’s here with you now.

food play with rhiannon guys…

it’s another one of those times when she uses christmas as an excuse to get something new: she buys an insane amount of those chocolates, knowing that she will enjoy it and that, if you’re not down for it, she’ll probably eat it either way. you, however, are very much down for it, as it turns out. it’s an odd sensation, at first, when rhiannon begins to pour the melted chocolate down your belly. it makes you shiver a little bit and she puts a hand on your waist steadily. “everything okay?” she asks, always careful with trying new stuff. “mhm” you whisper, arching your back up. rhiannon takes it as a sign and carefully puts her mouth on you. she’s kissing down the entire expanse of your stomach, licking off the sweetness as she goes. it’s a new feeling, to say the least, but not one you dislike. rhiannon hums happily, broad tongue pressing against your skin. maybe she puts it on your chest next, swirling her tongue around your nipples to get everything off of your skin, not even realizing that -at this point- you need more than just her mouth on your torso, and that you’re bucking your hips because it feels so good yet not enough.

— masterlist

#˙ ❆ ̟ !! ─ christmas works #rhiannon lewis #rhiannon lewis x reader #rhiannon lewis x female reader #rhiannon lewis x you #sweetpea

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ivysprophecy · 9 hours ago

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please please please

word count; 1644

summary; turning off your phone and shutting out the world isnt the best way to handle your problems but its what you do. and jjs had enough of it.

warnings; i dont think there is any? mentions of anxiety attacks? tagging @murdockcastleslut @kimoralov3 @arkofblake

divider by @bernardsbendystraws

"well hey there stranger"

i turn from my book to look behind me, seeing the boy id been actively avoiding for the past two days. carrying his surf board.

i shouldve remembered he'd come here to surf. i just wouldn't have guessed this early in the morning.

"hey jayj."

"oh thats all i get? 'hey'? no 'i miss you so much'?" he sets his board in the sand taking a seat next to me on my blanket.

guess im not finishing my book today. "oh my god jj! youre here! ive been dyingggg to talk to you! i cant believe youre really in here in the flesh! there. better?"

"oh dont be like that- cmon mama whatd i do?" i feel bad with the genuine concern on his face.

okay was ghosting him out of nowhere awful of me? probably. i just didnt know what else to do.

after that night at the bonfire i realized that with my feelings for him growing it wasnt a good idea for us to continue our casual... something. it played with both our emotions. it isnt fair to either of us.

especially after his 'i love you'. that really did it in for me.

"you didnt do anything jj. trust. i just... ive been in a funk. needed some me time thats all."

"well... do you still need your 'me time'?" he looked so hopeful. how could i say yes? where jj maybank is concerned ill easily fold every time. "cause you havent answered my texts so i couldn't ask you to surf with me this morning."

"... i dont have my board. but i suppose i can hang out with you for a little while."

"im honored," he smiles laying back on his elbows, "but really. are you good? i like to think i know you pretty well and this whole MIA thing was not normal."

turning to face him more, i sigh, what the fuck am i supposed to say? 'yea im just so in love with you i cant be around you' yea that would go over really well.

"i dont know. just gotta lot of stuff goin on. you dont have to worry though. im good."

"well do ya wanna talk about it?"

"trust me jay you dont wanna hear about my problems. theyre trivial at best."

"what are friends for if not for listening?" he nudges me with his shoulder urging me to talk. i really dont think i can do this. i was not prepared.

"youre not a very good listener," i point out, to which he immediately takes faux offense. jaw dropped and everything.

"oh thats just not true! i can listen!"

i run a hand through my tangled hair in frustration. this cannot be how i tell him. it just cant. i came here to get away from thinking about this and now hes right here in front of me acting so unserious while im spiraling.

"jj i really appreciate how eager you are to help me but its really not necessary. i didnt really prepare myself and its just too much-"

"prepare yourself? mama what the fuck are you talking about? does this have to do with that night after the bonfire? i mean obviously it does who am i kidding you havent talked to me since then. did i do something wrong? was- was it bad?" he leans in closer, lowering his voice thats laced with worry and guilt.

oh my god that is the absolute last thing i expected him to say. shit i really fucked this up. and honestly just not true.

"what? no! no jj you didnt do anything wrong and it was perfect. promise," i try to reassure him but i know deep down hes gonna over think this whole thing if i dont tell him straight up

i may love him but i never said he was the brightest in the bunch.

"okay so whats the problem?"

"the problem is that it was perfect," i cant help but let out a sigh before hiding my face in my hands as the words leave my mouth.

god my heart is racing, im not ready for this conversation. maybe if i pass out i wont have to. yea if he has to call an ambulance then we can avoid this all together. but an ambulance is also like five grand so...

shit.

"... youre mad at me because you had a good time?" his face contorted in a weird fixture of confusion.

"no! no- god youre so dense sometimes!"

"mama i dont have a fucking clue what youre saying! how does that make me stupid??"

i hide my face in my hands again trying to compose myself because what the fuck kind of confession is this?

"jj im avoiding you because ive been developing feelings for you and i cannot in good conscience keep being so casual with you and sleeping with you knowing this and i know that you do not want anything serious so i figured id just make it easier for the both of us and just take myself out of the situation entirely so that nothing bad happens and i cannot stop fucking talking so please for the love of god say something or do something because i feel like my heart is about to beat out of my chest and-"

oh my god im getting my book moment. he just kissed me to make me stop talking!!! oh my god hes kissing me.

is this where i kiss him back?

of course i kiss him back!! what the fuck!!? and oh my lord does it feel nice, so so so nice.

the way his tongue presses against mine, the way he cups my jaw and pulls me close to him. it was slow and confident and loving and everything he knows i like. his hands find my hips like muscle memory, pulling our bodies together, eventually having me on his lap. where he takes my hands and places them on his chest so i can feel his chest rise and fall with deep breaths.

“… mama you need to learn to breathe.”

“that’s not funny right now jj. im actively having an anxiety attack, horrible thing to say really."

"what're you so anxious about? i think we're havin' a pretty calm conversation, dont you?"

"i mean yea- but thats not-" he interrupts me while shaking his head with a shrug.

"listen, i get why youre a little nervous to say that, all things considered. but i thought it was pretty obvious i was into you, i just didnt wanna push you because you made your boundaries clear so i just took what i could get."

my eyes bug out of my head in shock. am i the dense one? i mean yea hes a really good kisser and i can feel he cares deeply about me when we do stuff and makes me feel safe and supported but that doesnt mean-

yea im stupid. he all but outright said it. actually he has. thats what started this panic.

"... okay yea- maybe. but you agreed they were a good idea so i figured that meant you wanted them there too. and i dont know- it just kind of got overwhelming and i didnt wanna be one of those girls who expects something huge after sex so... you know what i mean? and truthfully youre not what i expected for me."

"what does that mean?" his face showed a little offense.

"i just mean- ya know. for one i didnt expect to love my best friend. and then on top of that i didnt think id love a guy who was a treasure hunting, or- adrenaline junkie i should say."

he leans back putting some space between us, "is that supposed to be a bad thing?

"no! no jay im not saying this right- i-... youre a fighter and youre adventurous- a lot of things im not. if that makes sense. all im sayin is a few years ago i wouldnt have expected to be here. but i like it here. love it here even," i smile at him teasingly trying to ease his worries. the last thing i need is to say the wrong thing right now.

"so what youre saying is that you love me?"

"youre such an idiot."

'but do ya? because i think you do mama."

i roll my eyes chuckling, "yea. yea i do maybank," i press a small kiss to his cheek leaning back into him.

"does this mean youll let me make you a maybank mama?" his eyebrow was quirked up as he teases his question.

"lets not get ahead of ourselves. how about we take this slow?"

he looks down at my button up shirt i was wearing over my bikini to shield me from the ocean breeze, and i could tell he was debating taking it off of me. giving me that same look he always does.

"slow? mama i dont think we're gonna be too good at that."

"all 'm sayin is we dont have to jump the gun, we both admitted it, doesnt mean we gotta change the way we act or announce it or nothing. we can just enjoy this ourselves ya know?"

"you embarrassed of me mama?"

"not at all baby, just want you all to myself. is that too much to ask for?"

he shakes his head leaning up against me, our faces inches apart, "nah i dont think so. i like the sound of that."

i meet him the rest of the way pressing his lips to mine, smiling into it. pulling him as close as humanly possible. i need him under mind skin, in my blood, you know?

"i do too, so we agree? we'll keep this between us for now?"

"whatever you want mama. yes maam."

#jj maybank need you by my side #mama needs her jj #my writing <3 #jj maybank oneshot #jj maybank fics #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #obx #obx imagine #fic recs <3

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for-a-longlongtime · 2 days ago

Text

VI. Through the fire, to the wire

Pairing: Tim Rockford x Marcus Pike

Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI 🔞🔥🏳️‍🌈 Words: 6.5K Warnings: m/m so obviously there's plenty of gay sex incl. anal fingering, dirty talk about oral, anal, threesomes and spit roasting. Erectile dysfunction (we don't refer to this enough in fic) in this chapter, because Tim is 52 years old and stressed the fuck out by work. A/N: We're no longer in ficlet territory - I'm just embracing it. We are, however, continuing the cheesy Top Gun soundtrack references, because why the hell not? All my love to @sin-djarin @lotusbxtch @qveerthe0ry @mountainsandmayhem @perotovar for helping me get through my writer's block! Mostly unbeta-ed, dividers by @saradika.

< chapter 5 | series masterlist | main masterlist

“You said–”

“I know, but–...”

“It’s eleven fuckin’ pm, Tim.” Marcus’ voice is uncommonly sharp as he snags the stack of paperwork from Tim’s hand, nearly climbing over him in bed so he can shove the offending papers into the nightstand. “You’ve been working your ass off for months now. Rest a little, would you?”

Tim sighs as he nods, pinching the bridge of his nose before he takes off his glasses and tosses them onto the nightstand. The thick frames hit the edge of the table with a dull thud, before falling to the floor, but this late in the day he’s too tired to even roll his eyes at that.

“What about your ass, hmm?” He slips his arm around Marcus’s waist, easily preventing him from moving back to the other side of the bed, and tugs him over to sit right on his lap, warm thighs bracing his own. “Come here. You smell good,” he muses, burying his face against Marcus’ neck to inhale the shower fresh scent lingering on his skin. Lemongrass and eucalyptus, two things that he pretty much exclusively associates with Marcus since they started dating a year and a half ago. Even when he smells it in a different context, his body consistently responds in a Pavlovian way, conjuring up images of Marcus pressed against him, gasping his name.

Always, without fail.

Except for how he now has Marcus right here, in his lap, still warm from the shower, dressed in just gray boxers - but yet his dick isn’t even stirring at the welcome weight across his thighs and the skin on skin contact.

As much as he’d like to ignore it, simply blame it on his body being slow to respond, he knows that’s not the case. He’s barely had a morning erection in the past weeks, and even being able to get off in the shower for some much needed stress release hasn’t been in the cards.

Breathe. It’s going to be just fine. You’re not impotent; you’re just exhausted and have been working too much for too long. He tries to be matter-of-fact about it, but the truth is that he’s not used to his body betraying him like this. Right now, it’s pretty damn hard to figure out if it’s temporary stress or a matter of getting up there in age. Early fifties isn’t that old yet, is it? Is this really about age catching up with me? No. It shouldn’t be.

Before he can spiral too much, the sensation of Marcus’ lips against his cheek pulls him out of his thoughts. So he tries to stay rooted in his body instead of worrying about it, enjoying the feeling of warm hands sliding over his shoulders. Marcus moves with gentle urgency, deft fingers alternating with an occasional kiss against the most tense spots, trying to ease the most strained muscles with a light massage.

“That feels good,” Tim says drowsily, a sigh escaping from his lips as he lets his hand slip to the small of Marcus' back.

“Good. Relax,” Marcus whispers as he claims Tim’s mouth in a deep kiss, his hips starting a slow rocking motion against him. It doesn’t get Tim hard the way he wishes it would - the way it generally should -, but it hits his senses so good either way. They haven’t had enough time for each other lately because of his work, and particularly when he feels this run down, it makes him question if he’s doing right by Marcus. Whether at times the balance isn’t askew, even though work frequently keeps both of them at their respective offices for too long, and whether he can keep up with Marcus.

Their age difference isn’t an issue most days - except for the times that those sixteen years suddenly seem to feel heavier than usual to Tim. If asked, Marcus will always dismiss the mere suggestion of it, but it has happened more than once that Tim finds himself wondering if he’s holding Marcus back, or when the reality of having spend more years in his body makes him wonder if he’s giving Marcus enough of what he needs in more than just a few ways. So this right here, the comforting touches, the way Marcus’ mouth finds his, still as hungry for him as that first week they met - it’s not just something Tim wants, but he actually needs it. The taste of Marcus on his tongue, be it the salt from his sweat or his cum, or that vague taste of coffee and something that’s so distinctly Marcus, just like that familiar fragrance that surrounds him everywhere.

“Stop thinking. I’ve got you.” Marcus’ voice is a low hum as he breaks their kiss so he can take off Tim’s undershirt. This time when he presses his chest against Tim’s, the heat of bare skin against bare skin, makes Tim’s breathing stutter. Missed you. Want you. Marcus’ hunger for him is comforting, reassuring, and Tim gladly lets him take control of the kiss.

When Marcus’ hands slide over Tim’s chest, stroking his nipples on their way down, that nagging feeling he’s had for the past minutes turns suddenly into a flash of panic; his cock still isn’t responding. Not to any of this, no matter how good and familiar it all feels.

He tries to ignore the anxious feeling that’s building in his chest, unable to deal with it at the moment, still holding out hope that maybe it will be okay. But not even Marcus’ hard dick pressing through his underwear against Tim’s belly, or his whimpers and moans are making Tim stiffen the way it should be - regardless of how much he wants Marcus.

“Tim…”, Marcus breathes, grinding needily against him, and this time Tim feels the wet spot on Marcus’ boxers as he’s leaking through the fabric. He doesn’t think - it’s just instinct, the way his hands slide down to grab a hold of Marcus’ ass and help him rock against him, making Marcus’ needy movements more controlled and focused. Immediately he gets rewarded with another gasp by Marcus, and Tim feels that familiar feeling burning low in his belly - that primal urge to take control, to take and give in ways that make Marcus’ eyes glaze over, and won’t hesitate in the slightest bit to show Tim just how much he wants him. Maybe if he can get him off this way, he won’t have to address the panic right now, or the fact that he feels broken because he can’t even fuck Marcus the way he wants to - the way Marcus likes it. Maybe if…

“Come here, let me…” Marcus’ hand slips between them, cupping Tim through his boxers as he’s breathing heavily, and the panic flares up even more for Tim. That anxious feeling of not wanting to disappoint tastes almost bitter in his mouth, and not even Marcus’ hands or mouth can take that away. For a moment he has to fight the urge to physically pull away, not sure if it’s shame or self consciousness. He can cope with his own insecurities to a certain level, with feeling vulnerable - but he does not want to let Marcus down. Or even worse; make him feel like he’s doing something wrong.

“Marcus…” He closes his eyes as Marcus strokes him eagerly, deepening their kiss as he rocks harder against Tim. Fingers touching in all the right places, with just the right pressure - but all that’s rising is that ball of panic inside of Tim, pushing against his rib cage until it almost becomes hard to breathe.

“Wanna lay down? Let me suck—“

Tim shakes his head quickly, not letting Marcus finish that sentence and risk getting himself into more of a predicament. He can’t let it get to the point that Marcus gives him a blowjob while he can’t even get fucking hard. “No no, it’s okay, let’s just not — I’m good,” he forces the words out, wincing when he sees the surprise on Marcus’ face and feels it in his body language.

“If you don't want to right now, or-..”

Nausea turns in Tim’s stomach, and without making a conscious decision to actually say it out loud, he finds that the words just fall from his lips, unable to take back. “I can’t get hard.”

There’s a beat or two of silence as Tim watches Marcus process what he just told him, and then suddenly the rest of his words come rushing, afraid he won’t be able to say them out loud if he doesn’t do so now. “Been about a week or two, except for that time we fucked in the gym showers. It either doesn’t happen at all or I can’t finish. It’s…. Fuck. I’m sorry. It’s not you. I just don’t want you to try and — it’s just a waste of time. I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know if I even fucking can fix it.”

Marcus bites his lip, seeming to hesitate for a moment, and immediately Tim’s nausea gets worse. Fuck. I shouldn’t have… Not like this. Fuck, Rockford.

“I noticed it already,” Marcus says eventually, carefully picking his words as he rests his hands against Tim’s chest, covering his heart that’s beating wildly. “You’ve been running yourself into the ground. Leaving before I go to work, coming home later and later with a heavier briefcase every week - and then those times you sleep at your office, or get home long after I am asleep.”

He’s right. And you’ve been neglecting him. You’re fucking up your relationship for work. “I’m so sorry.” The words barely come out of his throat, sticking in there like knives, but Marcus immediately shakes his head before Tim can say more.

“No, no. You don’t need to apologize to me about that, that’s not my point,” he clarifies quickly. “I’m just saying that your work is crazy right now, and you’re under way too much stress. You’re not sleeping enough either. That would fuck up anyone, you know? But it will pass. I don’t think you have to worry about this.”

The expression in Marcus’ eyes is so soft as he leans in to kiss Tim, hands sliding into his hair now as he curls some of the longer locks around his fingers. “Besides. You’re never a waste of time,” he breathes. “No matter what. But thank you for telling me all this. I’m sorry you’ve been feeling so bad. But it’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

“I don't know if it will just...go away or pass, whatever,” Tim huffs, and this time the wave of anxiety hitting him is different. Not about how to bring it up to Marcus, but the scarier realization that maybe this is it, this is his new normal. “I'm not fuckin'...young. And if it is my age, then...” He hates saying it. Hates how it makes him feel and sound, but still it rattles around his brain, all day long, without a way to ignore it.

Marcus simply shakes his head, his fingertips softly massaging Tim’s scalp - slow, easy circles in an attempt to make him relax. “Then we’ll just deal with it. Plenty of guys do, and there are so many options. But I don’t think it’s got anything to do with that.”

It’s almost maddening how calm Marcus is, how matter of fact about it. Tim isn’t sure what reaction he had been expecting, besides every possible bad response, but this sure wasn’t it - and he doesn’t quite know how to feel about that.

It must be written on his face though, because Marcus tilts his head as he questioningly takes in the sight of him. “Tim,” he then says softly. “You’re overthinking this. Okay? You told me, and I told you that I already knew, and that it’s not going to be a problem. You need to sleep for now. It’s all just fine.”

At last, the tight feeling in Tim’s chest dissipates, slowly but surely. Sleep sounds like heaven right now, but also impossible with the adrenaline that’s still crashing through his body - he’s practically vibrating out of his skin, unable to settle down. Needing to quiet his mind and be useful. He buries his face against the curve of Marcus’ neck, breathing in his scent deeply to have something else than his thoughts to focus on, and he sighs when Marcus runs his fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp like he did earlier.

“Tell me about your day,” he says after a little while as he straightens up, the tension finally leaving his body just as the anxiety did earlier. “No, actually…” he then corrects himself as he remembers something, and he leans back against the headboard as he takes in the sight of Marcus sitting on his lap.

“Tell me about the other day,” he says, this time brushing his thumb playfully over Marcus’ lower lip. He skips a breath unintentionally when those full lips part and then close around his digit, softly sucking on him. For a moment he’s too flustered and captivated by the sight, and by habit his fingers are just itching to guide Marcus’ head down to take him in his mouth, but he’s able to restrain himself - just barely, by reminding himself that’s exactly what he was trying to avoid right now. “Hey. Don’t distract me, you. Did you go to the airforce base for that flyboy?”

“Ohh. Francisco– Frankie? Yeah, I did.” Marcus can’t hide a smile but tries to anyway, looking bashful for a moment. He grabs Tim’s wrist, holding his hand in place as he kisses his knuckles one by one, then turns Tim’s hand over to pay the same attention to the palm of his hand. “He’s… nice.”

Tim hums in agreement. “Pretty too with those curls. Broad. Nice dick...” God, he still has that image burned on the inside of his brain. Walking into the locker room to find Marcus on his knees, sucking Frankie off - it wasn’t just a sight for sore eyes, but it made him want to spit roast Marcus there and then. “Good lay?”, he asks casually, but he knows the answer already before Marcus speaks. It’s that twinkle in his eyes that Marcus gets whenever he’s excited about discovering something he enjoys; an ancient piece of art at the office, or a song, or a person he’s particularly attracted to.

“Tell me. If you want to.” They’ve always shared stories about hookups, and while this time - considering circumstances - there is a bit of a nagging insecure voice in his head, he still wants to hear about the day Marcus spent with Frankie. He rubs the small of Marcus’ back in encouragement, hoping to not get a response in pity or ‘are you sure?’ at his inquiry - and Marcus picks up on the silent request, going with it.

“He gave me a tour all around the place and even let me get into some of the planes. It was like a fuckin’ teenage fantasy.” A wide grin spreads over Marcus’ face, and Tim knows exactly what he means. Top Gun had been an obsession for Marcus when he’d discovered it during middle school, not to mention that it made him realize that he was gay. The celebrity crush he had on Tom Cruise had faded after a couple of years, but the one for Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell remained steadfast, and led to him becoming somewhat of an aircraft geek.

“So did you fuck him in a plane?” Tim asks innocently, not surprised when he feels Marcus wriggle in his lap at those words, his eyes darkening. “Oh, you diiid, you little slut.”

“Technically it was a helicopter. I didn’t think we – I hadn’t planned it or anything.” Marcus laughs, the expression on his face clearly giving away how he’s thinking back about the encounter, and it makes Tim’s heart beat just a little faster. This is why it had been working for them to occasionally see other people; they could always talk about it and be happy for the other, without being intimidated.

It’s a first for Tim, being in a serious relationship while still keeping things this open, as Marcus was the one who had initially suggested it after they’d been dating for half a year. At the time, he’d wondered if jealousy wouldn’t get in the way, but the opposite turned out to be true. It was exciting to hear what Marcus was up to, or to share whenever he himself had hooked up with someone. Not to mention the thrill of reclaiming each other, seeing someone else’s marks on Marcus’ body, knowing that those would fade but that Marcus would always come home to him.

“I know. You mentioned it was just going to be a tour, but well… I know your weakness for that air force stuff.” Tim smiles as he moves his hands from Marcus’ hips to his ass, squeezing him as he helps him grind against him. Marcus whimpers, eyes closing for a moment, and when he rocks his hips against Tim, he’s clearly hard again, his whole body vibrating with need.

“Besides, Frankie wanted to fuck you so badly,” Tim says casually, pleased when he gets a moan in response. “I could tell that the moment I walked into the locker room. You were sucking his dick so good, but he had that look in his eyes like he was starving, just wanting more of you. Am I right?”

Marcus nods wordlessly, and Tim smiles as he continues. “Yeah, of course I am. What happened in the helicopter, hmmm? Did he bend you over the control panel?”

“God, I was hoping he would.” Marcus’ voice is more than just a bit strung out as he rubs himself slowly against Tim’s belly and cock, gripping onto his arms for support while trying to find the words, as his arousal and the memories seem to make that more challenging than usual. “Would’ve been too risky. He blew me as I sat in the pilot chair, telling me I had to come before he’d lose it and would fuck me down on that floor…”

“Which you really were hoping for.” He smiles as he sees how dark Marcus’ eyes become, confirming how spot on that assessment is.

“Fuck. Yes. His fingers…” Marcus shivers as Tim squeezes his ass again, letting a few fingers slip lower so he can rub the rim of him through his boxers. “He likes having his hair pulled. Was jerking himself off while blowing me, which was so damn hot. I made him come like that, and…”

He has to take a moment to catch his breath, and Tim hums encouragingly at him as he tugs at Marcus’ boxers. “Take ‘em off. Now,” he orders Marcus, and it’s mere seconds before the underwear is tossed to the floor and Marcus is back in his lap, now fully naked. He doesn’t even have time to ask another question, because Marcus’ mouth is back on his almost immediately, kissing him deep and hard.

The head of his dick leaks against Tim’s stomach, making it impossible to resist the slickness and heat between them that just keeps building. He growls low when Tim wraps his fingers around him, his tongue even more possessive as he rocks against Tim from the seated position in his lap, clearly eager for more friction.

“Tell me more,” Tim encourages him when they both come up for air, slowly stroking Marcus’ cock as he keeps him pressed close against his belly, not getting enough of him.

“We almost fucked in his shower later, but it was too small. Little place in Ocean Park. The view…” Marcus’ breathing grows heavier as his eyes close, lost in the feeling of Tim jerking him off, and it takes a few tries until he finds his words again. “He ate me out on his bed and fuck, Tim, his mouth. God. I thought I was gonna lose it, but he told me to not come yet, and–...”

“Bossy?”, Tim suggests. He leans over to grab the lube from his nightstand and slick up his hand, and this time Marcus’ hips buck up hard into Tim’s grip as he nods breathlessly. His cock twitches hard in relief and excitement at the welcome glide over his dick, as Tim cups his sack before he moves back up to the shaft. “Mmmm. I bet you loved that. How did he fuck you, ass up in the air?” He laughs as Marcus nods again, picturing it - one of Marcus’ favorite positions, especially with a new hook up if he’s really into them. “Yeah, you must’ve been begging him for it at that point.”

“It was so good. His hands all… fucking strong. He’s ex-army, Delta Force, but not one of those meat heads, you know? Just, broad.” Tim has seen Marcus give detailed presentations in a professional capacity, including discussing ancient art more eloquently than he’s ever heard anybody else do. But right now, Marcus fuckin’ Pike was just a mess, slowly falling apart under his touch - but also by reminiscing about what was clearly a pretty memorable fuck.

“Tell me about his cock,” Tim orders him, and Marcus bites his lip as Tim strokes him faster, making the grip on him tighter, his other hand still guiding Marcus’ rocking movements against him. “I know he’s well-hung, but I want to know how he felt - how you felt.”

“Yeah, yeah… Frankie’s pretty big. Uncut. About your size, just not as thick. He used a condom, taking his time to…” Marcus closes his eyes for a moment in an attempt to compose himself. His hands are warm on Tim’s chest and shoulders, and Tim groans softly when Marcus’ lips brush over his throat, mouthing at his Adam’s apple, then move to suck a hickey on his shoulder.

“He felt so good. His head is thick, just… fucking perfect. He held me down as he took his time, just giving me the tip first, until I… He was a fuckin’ tease at first.” He laughs, shaking his head as he tries to compose himself, to focus on getting the words out. But when his gaze drops down to the sight of Tim jerking him off, the thoughts all seem to leave his head. He licks his lips hungrily, mesmerized by the slick slide of his dick in Tim’s hand. His cock is almost an angry red color, begging for more attention. He twitches repeatedly by the way Tim rubs his thumb against his frenulum, then upward to gather the bead of precum welling from the slit. “Shit....”

“Keep talking.” Tim’s eyes flit from Marcus’ face down to his dick and back again, taking in the dazed expression on his face with a sense of amusement and pride.

“I… what was I…” Marcus bites his lip, unable to tear his eyes away, then groans as Tim slips his foreskin up to fully cover him. After a few moments, he slowly slips it down again, his fingers a tight channel around Marcus’ cock, and the soft squelching sound of the lube makes them both shiver.

“You were talking about Frankie fucking you,” Tim offers helpfully, unable to stop his smirk at the strung out expression on Marcus face. “Uncut, big, not as thick as me. You like his dick, I can tell. You’re thinking about it right now, pushing inside of you.”

Marcus swallows hard, his eyes locked onto the sight of the viscous stickiness between his dick and Tim’s fingers. “He… yeah. He’s got a great cock, and he knows what to do with it. He liked it when I called him Francisco, and when I begged him for more. Said… he said I took him so well.” Finally Marcus looks up, his eyes dark and pleading, lips swollen from the kisses and bites he’s been leaving on Tim’s skin.

Tim smiles, cupping Marcus’ chin with his free hand as he leans in to kiss him. “Ask me. I know you want to.”

Marcus’ breathing stutters as he licks his lips briefly. “I need you.”

“So ask me,” Tim repeats, capturing Marcus’ bottom lip with his teeth to gently tug on it, just enough to cause a soft gasp. He quickly soothes it by sucking on the lip,letting his tongue apologize until the younger man whines for him.

“Please, Tim. Fuck me? Want to feel you inside of me.”

Hearing how much Marcus wants him never fails. It makes him even more eager to give him exactly what he’s asking for. His own dick being unwilling to stiffen is not even on his mind anymore, nor is the earlier anxiety now his head has finally cleared.

He pours some more lube on his hand, the cool liquid making them both shiver when he slips his fingers between Marcus’ cheeks. “I got you,” he hums at him, stroking the puckered rim as he kisses Marcus, wanting to tease and please him just a little longer. “You want this? Hmmm?”

“Please.” Marcus nods eagerly, his eyes falling shut as Tim’s finger slips inside of him. A soft whimper escapes from him as his body relaxes even more than it did before, hungry to be touched more. He’s radiating heat, and everything is slow, unhurried, despite how eager he is and how urgent his words are becoming. “Aaahh, fuck. More, Tim, please…”

He hushes Marcus softly as he first fucks him with his index finger only, waiting for just a little bit until he slips the second finger inside of Marcus. The eager, tight heat wrapped around his digits makes him hiss, and he wants to put his mouth on Marcus so badly, but he knows this isn’t gonna take long to begin with in the first place. “Greedy boy, taking a second finger just like that,” he teases him with another kiss, sliding as much of his fingers inside of Marcus as possible. “You take it so well. Just like your Flyboy said.”

Marcus moans loudly, and Tim feels him clench tight around his thick fingers. “Shit, you can’t just…”

“Sure I can. I can do whatever the hell I want, baby.” He grins as he starts to pick up the pace, deciding to push Marcus just a little more on the topic of Frankie. He really likes that guy. Not just to fuck, it seems. “Tell me more about your hot little - no, broad, right? - pilot fucking you ass up in his bed. Big hands on your waist, we all know you like that.” He lets go of Marcus’ dick so he can paw at his hip, letting his fingers press into the soft, hot skin. “Did he fuck you hard? He looked like a calm guy, but I bet…”

“You’re killing me.” Marcus’ voice is hoarse, his eyes wild and glassy as he nods, grabbing his cock to stroke himself now Tim’s hands are both occupied. “Yeah, he did, and he’s got… these thick thighs. Strong arms. So hot. Balls slapping as he went faster, slamming into me. His hands—...” His breathing hitches as Tim sets a steady pace with his fingers, starting to fuck him, and again he clenches hard around him. “His… He got me off before he did, made me come so goddamn hard.”

As he should. “But you didn’t get to blow him again?” Tim muses as he licks a drop of sweat off Marcus’ jaw, knowing how much he likes giving oral - saw for himself just how much he was into sucking Frankie off. “Bummed about that?” He pulls his fingers out a little as he pauses for a moment, just enough until Marcus eagerly pushes back against his digits, asking for more.

A wide grin plays over Marcus’ face, and he looks away for a moment as his breathing is labored. The hand around his cock speeds up a little, and he brushes the palm of his hand over the tip, clearly eager for a release. “I did, actually. Later that night, when we fucked on the couch.”

“When you…” Tim can’t stop the whistle of admiration. “Sucking you off in a chopper and then making you come twice at his place? I like this man.”

“Three times, actually.” Marcus laughs breathlessly, hips moving faster as he reaches behind him to grab Tim’s hand, urging him to pick up the pace with which he is finger fucking him. “I woke up to him sucking my dick, and-...” His words suddenly drop off as his head tips back, and he groans loudly, his nails digging into Tim’s hand. “Yes, yes, right there, fuck me, that’s… ohhh, God. Jesus, Tim.”

“Right there? Hmmm?”, Tim coos at him as he adds more pressure, knowing he’s right at Marcus’ most sensitive spot - could’ve done so right from the beginning, but he likes drawing it out, getting the satisfaction of that prolonged release. Marcus nods breathlessly, his hips working along with the pace Tim has set - one hand on Tim’s bicep, the other one still firmly locked around his cock, and the slick channel his dick keeps making onto Tim’s stomach.

“Yeah, Mr. I Got Fucked Four Times In A Day By That Flyboy. I know, I know, you’re so close. You’re so…” This time, he doesn’t let his fingers push back in but instead pulls them all the way out, hearing the disappointed gasp from Marcus.

“No, no - please, don’t stop,” Marcus gasps, eagerly rocking back against Tim’s hand. “ ‘s so fucking good…”

Tim smiles, leaning his forehead against Marcus’ as he only lets the tips of his fingers graze over Marcus’ hole. “Tell me what you want,” he says softly, not being able to keep the teasing lilt out of his voice. “Do you want me? Or perhaps you want your Flyboy?”

“You.” There’s not a moment of hesitation as Marcus responds. But it’s impossible for Tim to not notice the gleam in Marcus’ eye at the mention of Frankie.

“I think you’re lying. But do you know that you’re lying? Let’s try this again.” He brushes his lips over Marcus’ jawline, feathering light kisses, then runs his tongue over the slightest hint of stubble. “You want me to fuck you - or do you want that Flyboy pressing against your back, his mouth on your neck, so you can feel how hard he is? His hand on your dick - like this,” he squeezes Marcus’ cock gently, hearing his breathing hitch again. “Getting you all worked up so you can take him like a good-...”

“Fuck. Don’t be such a tease. You - I wanna feel you inside.” Marcus tries to compose himself, grabbing Tim’s hand behind him in a plea to slide his fingers back into him. “You don’t believe me?”

“I’m pretty sure I recall you saying you want us both. What was it…” Tim pretends to think deeply, this time slowly rubbing against Marcus’ heat with his middle finger. “Oh, right. Me fucking you further onto his cock to hear you choke.”

“Jesus Christ.” Marcus’ eyes close for a moment as he whimpers, but Tim continues - making sure to stop touching Marcus’ dick before it pushes him over the edge, as Marcus is desperate for friction at this point.

“Does he already know how slutty you get?” Tim waits for an answer, and when Marcus merely blushes at his words, he grins as he leans in to hush him with a kiss. “Yeah, you heard me,” he hums as he lets his slick fingers push past the tight ring of muscle, slipping back into Marcus. “All breathy and needy, just like this. Wanting to be filled up so badly. Does he know? How nicely you’ll beg for it when you really want it?”

“Ooh, fuckk…” Marcus’ breath catches, his body quickly adjusting to being filled up again, and his dick gets even harder when Tim’s fingers easily find their way back to his prostate. “Tim, please. God, I have to come...”

“We’re done when I say we’re done,” Tim admonishes him, barely concealing a smirk when he feels Marcus tighten around his fingers. “Unless you want to use your safeword?”

He knows he’s pushing it, making him hang in there for longer than he usually does, but something inside of him craves it at the moment. Teasing and drawing out those little bits about Frankie that seem to make Marcus weak - just to hold it up to the light and watch it sparkle, see what riles him up the most about this little crush. Not to mention that the idea of a threesome with that pilot sure sounds appealing to him, too. For a moment, that nagging feeling of anxiety tries to creep back into his head - because really, is he seriously considering a threesome while he can’t even get it up right now? But one look at Marcus’ blissed out face makes him forget about

Marcus shakes his head, and when Tim takes his hand off Marcus’ cock and tells him to touch himself, he does so eagerly, his dark eyes remaining locked onto Tim’s.

“Tell me how you want us. Me and your Fra–... Flyboy,” Tim urges him, his right hand occupied with Marcus’ rapidly rising climax while his left one is holding tight onto his hip, encouraging him to keep grinding. “I know you’ve been thinking about it.”

What, you’re talking about a threesome while you can’t even get it up right now, Rockford? He tries to ignore the anxious feeling that is trying to creep back into his head, and instead attempts to focus on Marcus’ blissed out face. The way he’s writhing in his lap, eyes half closed as Tim fingerfucks him - no, he’s not failing here, it’s clear that he’s giving Marcus exactly what he wants.

“Like that. Just like you said,” Marcus moans, drops of sweat rolling down his neck as he rocks along with Tim’s movements. “You fuckin’ me further onto his cock that’s in my throat, each of you on one end. And… and then I want to watch you fuck him.”

“How?”

Marcus shakes his head, almost tripping over his words. “Any fuckin’ way you want.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Tim groans against his ear, feeling the shivers running through Marcus’ entire body in response. A sob breaks free from the younger man as he jerks himself off furiously, grinding against Tim’s fingers in search of more. He doesn’t even have to ask; Tim picks up on it easily and hushes him reassuringly, capturing his lips again for a kiss.

It takes a moment and some more lube, but then he slides a third thick finger inside the tight heat that surrounds him. Marcus’ breathing immediately is a dead giveaway that the extra stretch is exactly what he wanted, and he whimpers wordlessly against Tim’s mouth. The angle may be less than ideal for Tim’s wrist, but it’s clear that Marcus isn’t going to last much longer anyway.

“Shit, shit, oh, god, please…” Marcus’ head tips back, full body shivers running through him as he just surrenders and lets Tim fuck him to his orgasm, fingers right against his prostate. “You should… I want… God, you should fuck him from behind. While he fucks me under him, on my back,” the hoarse words slip from his lips, and Tim can’t take his eyes off him, how goddamn beautiful he looks while falling apart. “I want to see how he takes you while fucking me, your hand in his hair, tugging his curls while…”

“Like this?” Tim’s fingers twist into Marcus’ short hair and he tugs, firm but not too hard, knowing pain isn’t exactly Marcus’ thing. He watches in surprise and awe as a few tears escape from Marcus, their barely visible path down his cheeks accentuating just how good he looks all blissed out. “Ohh, fuck. Your Flyboy is rubbing off on you with that hair pulling kink?”

“I need to… God, I’m gonna…”

“Of course you’re gonna come for me, like the good boy you are. You always do so well,” Tim breathes against his ear, and Marcus’ hips jerk hard as the words hit his praise kink - as deliberately aimed as Tim’s fingers inside of him pushing him relentlessly to his release. “Want to watch me take him apart the way you’re losing it now - is that it? Fuck him until he screams like he’s in heat, begging for more of my cock as I fuck him deeper into you…”

A loud gasp escapes from Marcus as he comes hard, crying out Tim’s name as he spills himself all over their stomachs. His body jerks with the intensity of the prolonged orgasm, and Tim can’t help but feel more than satisfied at that. He licks Marcus’ neck with a broad stroke before pressing more kisses and praise against his flushed skin, letting him ride out his high.

When he feels Marcus’ twitching getting too close to overstimulation, he slips his fingers out and grabs one of the wet wipes in his nightstand drawer - cleaning up his hand before he grabs a few more to clean up the both of them. “Thirsty?”, he asked, brushing his lips over Marcus’ in a soft kiss as he cleans the cum off his belly, and Marcus hums in response. “Got you, gimme a sec.” Part of him wishes he wasn’t using wipes to clean up Marcus, the urge to taste him on his tongue so strong. But with the adrenaline leaving both of them, exhaustion sets in for him as well, making him stick to the easy clean up for now.

“You have such a filthy mouth,” Marcus mumbles, half asleep already on his pillow a few minutes later, his arm slung low around Tim’s waist.

“Me? Because you’re so prim and proper.” Tim smiles as he tightens his arm around Marcus, pulling him in closer. “That Flyboy really gets you going.”

“I like him.” Marcus sighs, burying himself closer against Tim’s chest as his eyes are closed now. “You would too- I mean. Maybe you should meet him. Just because he’s nice, you know?”

It takes a moment for Tim to digest that comment, despite his previous playful comments to Marcus about taking him with Frankie. Because Marcus has never before suggested he should meet one of his hookups - not really unless there were clear plans to have a threeway.

“You really like him, huh?”, he says eventually. But the only response he gets is the sound of Marcus snoring quietly and contently. So Tim lets it go - knowing he’s too tired to further pursue that line of thoughts right now. It doesn’t matter, especially not with Marcus falling asleep right there against him.

That flyboy got to him good, though.

Oof, it took me a while to hop back into the saddle and complete this chapter. I've got so much backstory (and upcoming chapters) in my head that it took time to sort this out. This is also why I'm so behind on reading and rb-ing everybody's fic, and responding to messages, but I promise I'll catch up soon. Thank you for reading, I hope you're still enjoying these guys! 💜

I’m not gonna make this a PSA but hey, if you or your partner are experiencing ED, try to be open about it! Not fun, but it’ll get you much further than ignoring it will. Talk to your dr (and if you don’t feel comfortable with them, get a new GP).

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snowthedemonfox · 2 days ago

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Time to go through the entire episode 4 trailer!

I've been busy most of today, so I've only now gotten the chance to sit down and go through everything frame by frame. Like last time, I'm going to have to split this post up into parts. I'll leave everything under a read more to prevent spamming people's dashes though lol. Just know that everything will be in the reblogs!

I’ve resorted the screenshots to be in order that I think they’ll happen in the episode btw, or at least my best guesses.

Gangle and Ragatha hanging out in the tent, would not surprise me if Jax shows up and throws that baseball right in Gangle’s face to break the mask (hard to tell if she’s wearing comedy or tragedy). Maybe instead of Jax breaking her mask, Ragatha accidentally breaks it? That would explain why Gangle seems to get into an argument with her later in the trailer.

Also, baseball. Ragatha. Ragatha with a baseball. Wasn’t one of the teased adventures a baseball one? And it’s probably going to be episode 5? The Ragatha episode? Nice foreshadowing, Glitch.

Okay so very obviously her mask is broken now, thanks Jax (or Ragatha, you never know). You can see Zooble’s hand on the left, they’re probably about to offer some help. Is Zooble the one who gave Gangle her new mask? I guess they do get along pretty well.

I do wonder where Zooble got the mask from. Did they make it? How? The star and swirl do look like random parts they’d have in their Zooble box. Two other details I’d like to point out is how Zooble’s door icon is flipped. Gangle’s looking into a mirror, the icon shouldn’t be facing the right way. Cute duck toy though, Zooble. I like it.

Also is that an abstraction figure on the desk in the background? Is this related to the figurine thing from Episode 2?

Oh and I guess everyone gets those stacking ring and building block toys, since Pomni has the exact same toys in her room.

Okay first of all why are Pomni and Ragatha walking in from the right? Their rooms are on the left, along with Jax’s. Were they looking for Gangle to start the adventure, and checked her room first? That IS on the right side, so it makes sense if they were walking back from there. They look confused, maybe they’re wondering why Gangle is looking in the mirror. Maybe they’re wondering what she’s doing in Zooble’s room.

Regular Caine and Bubble activities! Maybe today Caine gets interrupted by someone while explaining the adventure? Because that would explain a few things.

Like, actually checking the suggestions box. Is it attached to the pole? How the hell are the others supposed to reach it if it’s all the way up there? I guess they’ve managed a way to do so because the box is overflowing with suggestions. I guess Caine almost never checks it, which…. oof. Maybe Pomni asked if they get any input on the adventures, reminded Caine the box exists, and now he’s going “Oh shit I can’t let them know I haven’t been reading these!”

Yayyyy Kinger <3 Probably watching Caine go over to the suggestions box lmao. I wonder what he’s going to be doing while everyone else is on the adventure?

Okay yeah it must’ve been attached to that pole, it’s now broken. Weird that we’ve never seen it in previous episodes, that would’ve been a nice reference. Caine’s probably going to grab the first suggestion he sees (That being a fast food adventure? Who would’ve suggested that? Gangle? Would explain why she’s the manager, she’s the one who suggested the idea) and go with that for the day’s new adventure. Bubble I don’t think you should lick that by the way.

Maybe the manager’s office? Or maybe this is one of Caine’s secret rooms where he brainstorms adventure ideas? Idk. I do like the motivational posters in the background though.

You can kinda see Gangle in the reflection of his eyes, so he’s maybe talking to her. Thanking her for the idea? Telling her how to be the manager?

Probably some fake ad sequence to put between them moving from the Tent to Spudsy’s? Gangle girl calm down pls you’re scaring me-

Yayyyy it’s the scene from the Feb trailer!!! But now it looks even better!! It looks like it’s still early in the day based on the outside weather. Jax has to work the drive thru it seems, that doesn’t seem too difficult. I guess. I’ve never worked at a place like this. I wonder what that room on the right is. Maybe they all spawn in with their usual outfits, but that room acts as a changing room? Is that Caine’s hand? Maybe Jax refused to be a part of this but Caine dragged him in there anyway to get into uniform lol. Does not look like he’s having a good time.

Orbsman!! First thing I noticed is that he seems a bit… lower quality than all the other character models we’ve seen. Caine must’ve really rushed this adventure, and that’s going to become a bit more obvious really quickly. But for real dude why are you so tall wtf.

Oh and Ragatha is at the cash register with Pomni! Maybe they both start out there, but Gangle makes Ragatha work with Zooble on the cooking because of all the orders? Sorry Pomni, you’re on your own.

What do you do when you need NPCs, but don’t have the time to make new ones? You reuse old ones! Why else would the Gloink Queen be ordering burgers?? I was just as surprised as Jax when I watched the trailer.

Is this the Karen NPC I’ve been theorizing exists? If so, Pomni is not going to have a good time. Maybe this is just after Ragatha left to help Zooble?

This has to be a timeskip cut somewhere, right? It’s probably boring to show the whole day of nothing but customers ordering food and then leaving. But I can’t tell if this is early morning, or late afternoon. How long are these guys even supposed to be working for?

This has to be at least after Ragatha leaves, cause you can only see Pomni at the register. I can’t see any NPCs though, did most people leave?

Look at her, she looks so damn tired. Pomni I’m so sorry you didn’t deserve this.

If you’ve seen my other post on this topic, you’ll know that I 100% believe Gummigoo is ordering something in this moment. The trailer put this scene immediately after showing us the Gloink Queen. If Caine reused one NPC, he’s going to reuse another. I wonder if we’ll see Max or Chad? Or one of the ghosts from Episode 3?

Either way Pomni is not going to have a good time. I doubt Gummigoo even remembers who she is.

Yeahhhh she doesn’t look like she’s handling this well. Gummi probably just walked off to go sit down somewhere? Or maybe he just got his food (which, damn, that must’ve been quick) and is walking to one of the tables. Pomni’s trying her best to act normal and okay but you can clearly tell she isn't.

This scene is odd because it’s the only one that looks like Glitch intentionally cropped something out. Is that something perhaps a gummy crocodile? Pomni please get off the floor who knows what’s been there. That’s not healthy. Also?? Don’t you have a job to do??

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc episode 4 #arctic fox speaks

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dflogerzi · 9 hours ago

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I never thought he wouldn't pardon his son. He had little option from his point of view given what is coming. There will be more pardoned as well. For myself, I have really moved past this. The bigger picture for me is the precarious place we are all in for the next two months. There is a massive global agenda, and it was on a steady course headed to 2030. All the boxes were being ticked off. Right now, Trump is saying quite loudly what his intentions are to prevent it...

The receiving end of it and their agenda has corruption on every level and on both sides of the aisle. They are going to attempt to block anything resembling accountability or change. My worries are people staying alive and safe, and that includes us... and all the way to the top.

When you have GOP senators loudly proclaiming that they want Christopher Wray to stay you know what it means... and that is just the tip of the iceberg.

You know, it took until my own retirement and the time to really take a look at many things to open my eyes and see what has really gone on. My own rabbit holes took me all the way back to Prescott Bush. Will not expound here on his dealings in WWII, but I spent my first summer in retirement in tears over what I found going back over the last 80 years or so in history until recent times. I now no longer go down rabbit holes, I learned enough.

There are no good intentions for us. Once I wrapped my head around that I could see the answers absolutely clearly and with clarity on every single 'why?' I have. They are not hiding it. The UN and the WEF have published it all and made it very clear. The media will not talk about it because it is not the narrative that sways the general masses. They are allowed to lie or hide truths. Obama made sure that it was legal in 2013.

I do not like it when I venture off my blog intentions here. I have always felt it does not help that much to write of these things, especially in the community I have been in here for years now. I came to discuss firstly the incredible scam I saw Meghan Markle pull in her first "pregnancy", and I have mostly taken a lot of joy in discussing royal watching, travel, art, history, the more spiritual, and cute furry friends. I do allow myself a step off the path on occasion. This is obviously one.

May God bless us. May he keep us all and our countries safe as we journey into new territory. May he give those attempting to bring health and open lives to us strong shields to withstand what is to come, and protection for our lands and animals.

Everyone have a good day. Love to friends here.

Biden pardons his son Hunter despite previous pledges not to... And before you freak out about this 👆 Biden was never really president and illegitimate presidents cannot pardon anyone. This will NOT stand. 🤔

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1toreyouapart · 1 day ago

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What It Cost

****THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY BASED ON REAL PEOPLE. 18+ ONLY. I DO NOT OWN THE RIGHTS TO THE PEOPLE OR MUSIC MENTIONED IN THIS STORY OUTSIDE OF LILITH AND SADIE AND MAYBE A COUPLE OTHERS. DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE NOT UP FOR FANFIC INVOLVING REAL PEOPLE***

Terrible summary: Five years since she last spoke to him. Since she last saw him. Now his face and his voice is everywhere. She can't escape him.

Five years ago Noah destroyed her and the life they had built. Now he’s back and seeking to make amends. As much as she wants to say that it's too little too late, is it?

CW/TW: Angst, mention of addiction, cheating. Mention of character death. Language. Smut (later on). PinV, unprotected PinV (wrap it before you tap it, friends), oral (f&m receiving). All smutty warnings happen later on, so I’ll update TW/CW warning labels as those parts are written and posted. If I forget anything, please let me know so I can fix it! Thank you!

A/N: Links are still wonky right now. Will be fixed when they stop being a pain

11-Noah

Everyone's chatter and laughter in the living room drowned out the doubts circling in his head. What if he wasn't able to fix what he had broken? Or what if she just told him to fuck off and leave her alone? Was he even capable of being a better person? Or was he always going to keep making the same mistakes?

Shaking his head as though to shake off the thoughts he picked up Lily's water, the entire reason he was even in the kitchen, and headed back for the living room. Sometimes his brain could be a real bitch. Here he had everything he could want, well, almost everything, and his brain was going crazy on him. Everyone was together again, Lily was spending more and time there and with him in general. But yet those old worries were back and wearing a new face.

Slightly annoyed he dropped back down in front of her, passing the glass of water up to her. Her free hand lightly scratched his scalp in thanks and he had to fight the urge to just lay his head in her lap. He was grateful, thrilled even, that there was a group hangout happening again. But he wished like hell that it was just the two of them. Everything made more sense when it was just them.

The other day they had quite literally spent the entire day laying in his bed binge watching Supernatural, her favorite show. For hours they had laid there, talking, laughing, only untangling themselves from each other when necessary. Everything had made perfect sense then. But now? Surrounded by all their friends? Where he couldn't hold her and kiss her like he wanted? He had to settle for sitting near her or at her feet so that Sadie, who sat happily perched in Jolly's lap, didn't freak out and start asking questions. Questions neither of them knew the answer to.

"Noah?" Lily's voice cut through the noise in his head. "Why don't we trade spots? You've been on the floor all afternoon."

"Nope. You getting hungry?" He asked, avoiding the real question. She'd picked up on his tension. Damn it.

"I'm okay." She answered simply before getting up off the couch. "You're obviously uncomfortable. Get up there."

"No. I'm fine. You sit there."

Lily simply rolled her eyes, passing her water off to Sadie who watched them, eyebrow raised. Great. Just what he needed. Now Sadie would be on a mission to corner him and drill him about everything. And judging by the look she was currently giving Lily, her too.

She stepped between his legs, forcing them open to make space for her as she sat down, her back against his chest. Sadie passed the water back to her, shooting him a pointed look. All he could do was nod his head towards her and let Lily settle into him. So much for avoiding the questions.

Her hand rested on his thigh, squeezing. A small comfort in the battle being waged inside his head. All he wanted was for everything to be exactly as it had been. To be able to hold her the exact way he had before. To not care who was watching. Lily shifted, twisting and lifting herself to whisper in his ear.

"You're tense. Are you okay?"

All he could do was nod, not daring to say anything. What would he say? That he was terrified of fucking whatever this was up? Or that he wanted everyone to go away so that it was just the two of them?

“You’re a terrible liar,” she whispered, settling back into her spot.

Lilith’s hand slowly traveled over to his where she began lightly tracing the tattoos there. Something she had done any time he was anxious before. It gave him something to focus on rather than the thoughts swirling in his head. Slowly the raving thoughts stopped and his body started to relax, his breathing beginning to slow. Just as slowly as she had traced the artwork on his hand she slid her hand under his, palm up, and intertwined her fingers with his.

“You two are awfully cozy,” Sadie quipped. Though there was no malice in her voice. Instead her gaze was soft as she watched them.

“We’ve decided we can be friends.” Lilith shrugged against him, her voice calm and even.

“Babe, their business is their own,” Jolly interjected.

“I know. I’m not saying anything bad. Just an observation.”

Sadie’s eyes landed on his, and while she seemed pleased, there was a silent warning hidden there. One that said don’t fuck up again.

Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @alwaysfightforwhoyouare

#noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian smut #angst #noah sebastian angst #noah sebastian fic #fluff #noah sebastian fluff

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vickytaa · 5 hours ago

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I can't escape the way I love you. C.S.

based on "I love you" by Billie Eilish

_______________________________________

Chris and y/n have been dating for a couple of months, but they never made it official, and that didn't use to bother either of them. Well.. only at first.

She knew from the beginning that Chris wasn't into relationships and that he was a player, but she didn't listen at all. She was blinded by love.

They went on dates, talked for hours, gave each other's little details like love notes, and obviously made out, they even held each other's hand on public, just like a couple.

And it was great for both of them. They loved spending time together. Until her parents and friends started to ask when they would make it real; I mean, it was real, everything between the two of them, the love, the teasing, the joy... but they weren't actually dating. They weren't a couple. They were just... people who do things like a couple but aren't?

It was complicated. She was really into him, and he was too, but he was scared of commitment and everything that comes with being in a relationship.

On the other hand, she was looking forward to it. She has done everything to become his. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough. Honestly, it was tiring; trying so hard to get something that you know is not possible over and over again, failing repeatedly.

And when she tried to talk about it with Chris, he would just brush her off and leave, or sometimes he would try to explain why he was so scared, but he'd get frustrated and yell at her. Most of the times she would end up crying alone while he silently leaves.

Last night, they were cuddling and watching a movie when this thought passed through her mind. She knew it wasn't going to end well, but everything was hurting her so much.

"Chris..." She said, looking up to meet Chris's gaze. "Yes, sweetheart?" He knew what was about to happen. The fight, the cries, the silence, the yells. "I... I can't take this anymore." She says, adjusting herself so now she's sitting right in front of him.

They were face to face, each other's gaze interlocked. The tension in the air grew heavier. The look in her eyes was full of pain, filled with unspoken hurtful things.

"I- we..." She took a deep breath and continued speaking, "This is not good for me. I know your fears, but this is killing me. I- I don't want this anymore." She says, tears rolling down her cheeks non-stop. Chris looks down to his lap, breaking the eye contact.

"But... I want to be with you," He said. She was a bit surprised by his response. "Me too, Chris. But not... not this way. I'm sorry." She said, getting up from the bed and starting to grab her things. "If you want to be with me then, alright, I'm here, tell me you love me." She said, her voice cracked.

It hurts. It really hurts to see her crying, wanting to hug her and tell her everything is going to be alright, but it wasn't. He has talked about his feelings with her and his brother to see what he could do to fear them, but when he was able to do it, he would regret and leave.

He remains silent. He didn't want her to leave, but he also didn't want to fight his fears yet. Her chest tightens with his silent answer. She looks at Chris, wanting to believe this wasn't real and everything is fine. She was devastated and knew she had to end up things with Chris, so she did it.

She left

Today, y/n and her friends were talking at lunch about today's party at Freddy's. Everyone was going, there'll be tons of alcohol and probably drugs. Which sounded perfect for Y/n. She was super excited. Suuuuper.

"You have to go. Everyone's going, " Anna said, giving her sandwich a big bite. "No thanks, it is not my thing," Y/n said. She knew Chris was going to be there. Her friends insisted on her until she accepted. (She was forced).

The day went on, and the only thing that remained in her mind was Chris.

A love fading slowly, torn at the heart. The words drowning in a sea of doubts without being able to come to the surface. Her eyes, mirrors of a weary soul. His eyes reflect the fear that separated them.

She feels trapped in a maze with no way back. Only memories of the two of them remain, like decay. Tangled in shadows, hearts torn apart.

Love is a cruel game that makes us suffer and climb.

She wasn't the type that let's anyone see right through. But with Chris... He saw her. Really saw her. He even saw that she only wanted to hear those 3 words from him.

3 words, 8 letters.

And that was it. No more doubts, arguments, crying, anger, no more nothing. And yet, he didn't say it.

7:32 pm.

She decided she had to go clear her mind and maybe laugh a bit with her friends. It's been a while since she last laughed.

She got dressed, but her thoughts kept circling back to the same place. She tried to convince herself that she didn't love him anymore, but what a lie that was. He was everything to her, her first love. But why does love hurt so much? Maybe they were right when they said that broken people break others.

She drove to the party, got out of the car and stood there, frozen in front of the door. She took a deep breath and finally went inside. She quickly found her friends and they started to enjoy the night.

About an hour had passed since she arrived. Now the music was a bit slower, so she decided to take a break. She leaned against the kitchen counter, looking around, trying to find a familiar face.

Her gaze found him. A girl sat on his lap. Hands all over her body. She felt fire running through her veins. And all of a sudden, his eyes, once two stars that only shone for her, were now fixed on another. A kiss, soft as rose petals, stolen, insignificantly. The world stood still, spinning around that image that pierced her like an arrow.

She had built castles in the air with her love, dreaming of shared laughter and knowing glances. But now, those castles were crumbling, leaving behind a sea of sadness. Every brick of illusion, every window of hope, turned into a fragment of a broken heart.

As their lips separated, the blue eyes landed on her. Even with the music blaring, her heart's rhythm slowed to a mournful beat. A shroud of betrayal and deceit cast a shadow over her soul.

Her chest tightened, growing heavier with each passing moment. Today, a love once vibrant was shattered. Her mind raced, a whirlwind of thoughts, questions, and uncertainties.

A lump formed in her throat, and it felt like she was drowning in the silence that surrounded her. All those around her seemed to fade into the background.

Her body was failing her. The suffocating grip of anxiety and despair urged her to flee that place. With dwindling strength, she stumbled toward the exit. Tears that had once sparkled with joy were now a torrent of agony, sorrow, and resentment.

Yet, she couldn't bring herself to blame him; she knew her love was unrequited. Her anger turned inward, a bitter indictment of her own capacity for such profound affection.

Chris unceremoniously pushed the girl away and chased after Y/n. A whirlwind of emotions swirled within him, but all that truly mattered was her. He'd never intended to become this person, yet he found himself trapped in this role. As they stood outside, gasping for air, their hearts felt like shattered glass, slowly piecing themselves back together.

He tried to grasp her delicate wrist, but she retreated. "No," Y/n whispered, her voice barely a breath. Her heart, once vibrant, was now a flickering ember. The haunting scenes played on repeat in her mind.

This is why Chris can't say 'I love you'; it's because he doesn't truly mean it.

"I... I'm sorry. I truly want to change, but..." Chris began, but Y/n's voice cut through his words, "No, Chris! You don't understand! There's nothing you can do to change-" Her voice trembled. The music faded into the background, replaced by the symphony of their broken hearts.

"I can't escape the way I love you! And... and... I don't want to..." Y/n continued, her tears a relentless downpour. The boy's heart, hanging by a thread, was slowly being severed. "But I love you... and it's killing me"

She turned around and started walking home with her head bowed, feeling as if the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. The dry leaves crunched beneath her feet, mimicking the sound of her broken heart. Every step was a pang in her soul, a reminder of what she had lost.

Night enveloped her in a cloak of darkness, the same as she felt inside. The stars, once so bright and close, now seemed distant and cold. She wondered if she would ever feel the warmth of his love again.

_______________________________________

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khaopybara · 2 days ago

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Ok ok ok. So. May met ai oon when she stole oom's uniform and went to school as her for the day right? And for May it was love at first sight but oon obviously forgot about it since she didn't recognize May at all! She's definitely going to be beating herself over that one once she's realizes it next ep.

Also it seems like oom was a terrible partner to both Paul AND May. Like girl did you even care about it either one of them???

Ok now on to the important parts like THE BATHROOM SCENE 🫠🫠🫠

Whooo baby *fans self* oon had been DESPERATE to kiss May again and goddamnit did she ever!!

Heartbreaking that oon thinks that may only loves her cause she thinks she’s oom but also funny that drunk oon was ready to fight her sister even though technically SHES the one in mays heart. 🤪🤪🤪

I think that’s it

-🤫

ps it might’ve just been me but when i saw the scene of May crying on oon’s chest in the trailer i thought she was dead. Glad to see that wasn’t the case 🙈

anon, i was waiting for your ask (i say as if i have any significant things to say) (and she ends up going on and on for 6 paragraphs, yeah, clearly nothing to say, dumbass).

oon did a lot of things while dressed up as oom, apparently. from picking fights to making people fall in love. we love the range. i find it so amusing that oon clearly didn't remember may from the past, but from the moment she met her in present day, she was immediately infatuated by that woman. i mean, she saw a pretty angel coming down the stairs and talking softly and touching her with care, and was immediately a goner. from my perspective, it goes to show how much lack of affection she has endured since school days into adulthood, to be honest, for her to latch on a complete stranger like that. but it's amusing, too, to see that oon's main rival the whole time was, * checks notes * oon herself.

we don't know enough about oom to make me defend her, but ever since that talk the twins had in front of the shop after oom came back from a flight, i kept thinking, oon is trying to support her sister bc she's clearly the most gifted of the two (not my thoughts btw, but we know how oon's self-confidence works) and the favorite, while oom is trying to fill in all the spots to make it look like their efforts and sacrifices meant something. pang herself said that her house felt lifeless and that she decorates her clients' houses based on the aura she gets from them and it jut felt like a bachelor's house, and jan says that's probably bc she wasn't into it. i don't think that was just about paul but about the whole life she built for herself (but then, that's me reading too much into it, too. sibling dynamics and the roles within their family group just fascinates me).

once upon a time, when i was watching ayaka is in love with hiroko, someone commented on the tags of a post that it was so nice to see women desiring each other instead of just giving off best friends vibes, and here we are in thai gl where women eat each other like their lives depend on it and let me tell you, oon has been waiting to get freaky with may for a fucking eternity, i genuinely thought she was about to combust on that car scene in the beginning of the episode.

and then she finally gets to confess and kiss may like she has been meaning to, and it's delicious! i've said this in the tag of my gifset, but i've been obsessed with that shot with oon lingering around may's throat as may kisses her forehead since forever. it's beautiful and intimate and honestly so breathtaking. the way they are both so into it and the clear desire? it was like gorgeous, i loved it so much. and the way oon lifted may up and put her in the sink? yeah, sure 'i've never been interested in women before' your learned all the tricks rather quickly.

it's honestly so sad that oon sees herself as second place. she was so confident during lunch with may's godawful "friends". i loved how she was direct and didn't look ashamed when saying she works in delivery and is also becoming an author. may had a huge influence in her confidence and moral, but when it comes to the matters of heart they need to be secretive bc oh man, when the truth comes out about the whole trial and kosol's involvement in may's accident? i'm sure it'll all be super duper fine.

that scene with may crying on oon's chest also confused me a lot when the trailer came out, because they were clearly in a regular bed and oon is dressed in a pretty dress, so why would you be crying, girl? and now we know. no one's dead, she was just very drunk.

#th: pluto #🤫 anon #pluto the series #such a good ep honestly #i also saw people who read the novel allude that in the novel oonmay sleep together while oon is drunk #but i can't confirm that and regardless i'm glad may was just super protective of oon #let them have sex when both are sober and the truths are out in the open

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shuavez · 14 hours ago

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MORE THAN ENOUGH — nicholas a. chavez

masterlist | awkward

summary — three years on from your fated summer reunion with nicholas in lake como, you’ve almost got it all—your man, a sweet condo in manhattan, probably a benz. but there is just one small thing missing. inspired by more than enough by alina baraz.

tags/warnings — wine consumption. nic is a simp.

a/n — this is sort of an epilogue to awkward, cause i really love these two. if you’re new here and discovered this through tags, it’s not necessary to read awkward first but it will help give this some context, and it’s a fun (long) read about nic as well. feel free to check it out, linked above!! kisses <3

THREE YEARS LATER

The evening began in a quiet, understated wine bar tucked away in Manhattan—one of those places Josh and Dae insisted on for their regular meetups with you and Nic. The atmosphere was cozy, intimate, with low lighting and the kind of jazz playing softly in the background that made the whole world feel miles away.

Three years had passed since that life-changing week in Lake Como, and so much had happened. You and Nic returned to New York feeling like the slate between you had finally been wiped clean. Nic worked tirelessly to rebuild your trust, showing you in countless small ways that he was fully committed—not just to you but to the life you could have together. After about a year, he’d surprised you by suggesting you look for a place together, a space that would be entirely yours.

Now, you were settled into a light-filled Manhattan apartment with just the right mix of modern elegance and comfort. Nic’s long hours as a prosecutor often meant late nights, but he was never too busy to ask about your day or bring you coffee just the way you liked it. You’d transitioned back into working part-time in the public sector, performing oral surgery for underserved communities. It was demanding work, but it made you feel grounded, like you were making a real difference.

The four of you had fallen into a natural rhythm—dinners like this one, easy group texts full of jokes and updates, and the kind of camaraderie that made New York feel a little smaller.

You sat across from Dae now, swirling the last of your wine in its glass as she and Josh shared a look—one of those silent exchanges that made you certain they were plotting something. Nic leaned back in his chair beside you, his hand resting casually on the table, his fingers brushing yours just enough to feel his presence.

Josh cleared his throat dramatically, earning a playful eye roll from Dae before he announced, “So… we’ve been talking.”

Your brow furrowed as you glanced between them, curiosity flickering. “About?”

Josh leaned forward, his grin widening. “About starting a family.”

The words landed with an almost tangible weight, followed by a beat of silence as the revelation sank in.

“Wait—seriously?” you asked, a smile breaking across your face.

Dae nodded, her confidence tempered by an endearing flicker of vulnerability. “It’s something we’ve been talking about for a while, and now… it just feels right.”

Nic straightened in his chair, his expression softening as he broke into a warm smile. “That’s incredible. You guys are going to be amazing parents.”

“Unbelievable parents,” you echoed, reaching across the table to clasp Dae’s hand. “I’m so happy for you.”

Josh, ever the joker, smirked. “You’re just excited to be the cool aunt and uncle, admit it.”

You laughed, already imagining it—Nic teaching their hypothetical kid about baseball while you supplied an endless stream of snacks. “Obviously. The coolest.”

Nic chuckled, the sound low and easy. “I call dibs on corrupting them with sweets.”

Josh groaned, though his grin betrayed his amusement. “We’re doomed already.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you leaned into the playful banter. “Great. Just don’t come crying to me when I have to be the one filling their cavities later.”

Dae straightened, clapping her hands in amusement. “Perfect. Built-in dental services. You’re definitely on babysitting duty.”

“Oh, no,” you teased, holding up your hands in mock surrender. “I’ll spoil them rotten, but I draw the line at pediatric extractions.”

The conversation shifted after that, full of laughter and teasing—Josh insisting he’d be the “fun dad” while Dae rolled her eyes and said they’d be lucky if the kid didn’t end up with his dramatics. It was light and easy, but beneath it was something deeper. A sense of growth, of possibility.

For a moment, as you watched the four of you talking, drinking, sharing pieces of your lives, it struck you: this wasn’t just nostalgia. This wasn’t trying to recreate the past. This was better. You’d all grown older, wiser, and in many ways closer.

By the time you made your way upstairs to the rooftop bar, the night was bathed in the warm, ambient glow of string lights, the kind that blurred softly against the glittering skyline. You leaned into the railing, watching the city stretch endlessly before you, alive with its steady pulse. It was the kind of view that usually made you feel small, the kind that reminded you of the relentless chaos waiting just beyond these walls.

But tonight? It felt different.

Dae stood beside you, her shoulder brushing yours in that casual, familiar way she always had. She was rambling about the kind of stroller she and Josh might need one day, though the idea of her being a mom still felt surreal. You glanced over at her and smiled—your chaotic, vibrant best friend who had somehow grown into someone ready to raise a whole human. The thought made your chest swell with a strange mix of awe and affection.

Behind you, Josh and Nic were still at the bar. You could hear Josh teasing Nic about something, his laugh loud and unrestrained in that way only Josh’s could be. Nic’s voice rumbled in response, low and steady, and though you couldn’t hear the words, you could picture the slight smirk that always came when he was holding his ground.

These were your people.

You let your gaze drift back to the skyline, a soft smile tugging at your lips. For so long, you’d felt like you were constantly chasing something—your career, your ambitions, the life you thought you were supposed to live. And it had been good. Fulfilling, even. But in this moment, it hit you just how much you’d been missing.

Here, surrounded by the people you loved most in the world, everything felt... right. The noise, the stress, the endless demands of life outside these moments didn’t matter. You weren’t worried about your next surgery or Nic’s next trial. You weren’t thinking about deadlines or schedules or the million other things that filled your days.

Right here, it was perfect.

It was like home.

The sound of footsteps behind you pulled you from your thoughts. You turned just as Nic reached your side, his expression softening when his eyes met yours. “Hey,” he said, his voice warm, his hand brushing yours like a quiet promise.

“Hey,” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Josh and Dae hovered a few steps away, exchanging a glance that looked suspiciously like they were in on something. You barely had time to register it before Nic stepped closer, his hand still lightly holding yours.

He cleared his throat, and suddenly, the air shifted. The easy banter faded, replaced by something deeper.

“I need to say something,” he began, his voice low but steady. You blinked up at him, caught off guard by the sudden change in tone.

His words came slowly, deliberately. “These past few years have been... everything I didn’t know I needed. Coming back here, building a life with you—it’s more than I ever thought I’d have. More than I deserve.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he squeezed your hand, silencing you gently.

“Let me finish,” he said, a slight smile playing on his lips. “Because as much as I love what we have now, I want more. I want it all.”

And then he was pulling something from his pocket, his movements careful, almost reverent. The sight of the small velvet box made your breath catch.

“Marry me,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Because this? Right here, with you, with them—it’s everything. It’s home. And I want to spend the rest of my life making sure you know how much you mean to me.”

The world blurred for a moment, your focus narrowing on him—his earnest expression, the way his hand trembled slightly as he held the ring, the hope in his eyes.

“Yes,” you said, your voice breaking on the word as tears spilled over your cheeks. “Yes, of course.”

The grin that spread across Nic’s face was breathtaking, like the sun breaking through a storm. He slid the ring onto your finger, and then he was pulling you into his arms, holding you as though he’d never let go.

You barely noticed Josh and Dae until they were barreling into you both, cheering loud enough to draw stares from the rest of the rooftop. Josh clapped Nic on the back while Dae hugged you tightly, her voice shaking with laughter and excitement as she whispered, “I told you this would happen someday.”

And as you stood there, surrounded by laughter and love and the sparkling city below, you felt it again—that quiet, undeniable certainty.

This was home.

#me n the word reverent #nicholas alexander chavez imagine #nicholas alexander chavez fic #nicholas alexander chavez x reader #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas alexander chavez x you #grotesquerie #monsters: the lyle and erik menendez story #elle’s worx #elle’s navi #i wrote this today and i’m recovering from gastro still so if it’s shit i apologise

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