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pixie88 · 3 years ago

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On her door step

Chapter 1 - Teddy.

A/N | I reread my Supernatural fanfics I just thought I’d revamp it and I think I found love for it again, but not just that I also found out TUMBLR has deleted the first three chapters of Her Warrior.

Comments & reblogs welcome! Let me know what you loved and hated about this chapter!

I will only tag those that ask, so just pop me a message.

Summary | Dean is back in town, so Lyla can’t hide her secret any longer.

Check out my other work Here!

Word count | 1.7k

Warnings | 18 + Only! Angst.

Pairings | Dean Winchester x Lyla Woods.

Enjoy!

She never had a one night stand, but he charmed her into bed. Being a barmaid she got hit on a lot, but no one ever got their way. She wasn't sure if it was his chat, his green eyes, his smile or his good looks. His body was just as perfect, he had the moves in bed. The sex was mind blowing, but by the morning he was gone and she never saw him again until she looked into their sons eyes nine months later.

Seven months later...

"Here comes the choo choo train!" she moves the spoon towards her son's mouth. He chomps down on the spoon before blowing raspberries getting broccoli puree everywhere "Teddy!" she laughs. "Come on, I need you to have half the pot before I have to go to work, bubs!" She gets in another spoonful.

Soon her mom Dotty arrives to look after Teddy while she worked.

Arriving at work Beth smiles at her, "There's my favourite coworker!" Lyla shook her head "Alright Beth!"

"I'm great! What about you? How's my favourite little cutie too?"

"He's fine, my Mom has him tonight!"

"I need a Teddy date soon!"

"Hey, if you want to baby sit, I'm free whenever!" the pair laugh. "Ready for tonight?" Beth nudges her "Ha Ha Ha! I hate bachelor parties, they all think they can hit on me because it's their last night of freedom!" Beth snorts "Come on, live a little. Like one of them slip into your pants and relieve some of that up tightness!"

"I think you are forgetting the one and last time I did that I had a baby put in me!" Lyla laughs, "OK, just use protection this time!"

"I did!!" she hissed "If you say so!"

"I did, Beth!" she protests, "I'm messing with you! I wish I was here that night to see the man who made you break your own rule!" Lyla shook her head at her friend as the bachelor party arrived, "And here we go!" she said before taking a deep breath.

Lyla stirs as the sun breaks through the crack in the curtains blinding her, "Argh! What time is it?" she groans reaching for her phone. Nine thirty seven her phone reads, her mom is dropping Teddy back at half ten.

She hears the doorbell ring as she wipes the sleep from her eyes, her legs swing out of bed as she hears the doorbell again. "Argh! Mom, use your key!" she calls down but the bell goes again. She gambles as she makes her way downstairs and opens the front door "Did you forget your ke..." she stops dead in her tracks when she saw it was him.

Detective Dean Walters and his partner, Detective Sam Logan "Oh, hi! Can I help you?" she realizes she still in her pajama shorts and vest and tries to cover up Detective Logan smile "Miss. Woods, good to see you again, I just wish it was under better circumstances!"

"Circumstances? What do you mean?" she questions him starting to worry "There was an attack outside the bar you work at... The Funky Monkey?" he looks to her, she solely keeps her eyes on his because if she looked in Deans way she might just blush "There was? When?"

"Bout a little after midnight. Can we come in?" Detective Logan asks, she nods and moves aside to let them in. As he passes her, he offers a small smile and she smiles softly back. Following them in she grabs a cardigan that is hanging on the coat rack and wraps it around herself "Would you like a tea or coffee?" she asked as they take a seat on the sofa "Could I have a glass of water please?" Detective Logan asks her.

She nods before turning to Detective Walter "Coffee black thanks!" she rushes off to the kitchen, checking the time nine fifty one "Fuck!" she quietly hisses. Back in the living room, she places their drink on the coffee table before taking a seat on the sofa opposite them "So about this attack. Do you remember seeing anything strange last night?" Detective Logan seems to be doing all the talking.

"You mean other than a full grown man wearing a pink tutu and a feather boa? Nope, nothing out of the ordinary." she shook her head. "Where were you after midnight?" Detective Walters asks "Well, I left the bar at like ten to twelve and stopped off at a gas station and a grocery store on the way home. I think I got back about twenty passed twelve. I have the receipts with the time stamp on them if you want to see?"

Detective Logan nods, Lyla quickly picks up her bag and pulls out the receipts before handing them over. Both detectives take a look "That's great thanks!" says Logan, "Can I ask who was attacked? I just want to know if it was someone I know?" she asks, he sighs, "We wouldn't normally, but do you know a Noah Johnson?"

She thinks for a minute, "I don't know a Noah, other than there was a tab at the bar for a Noah but I don't think I dealt with him personally." Logan hummed "Your boss said the CCTV stopped working last week? Is that right?"

"If it is? That's the first I heard about it. Lenny is normally very OCD about that kinda thing. Where did the attack take place?" she asks, "At the rear exit."

"So you have ask for Pete's CCTV too? His camera points right at the back door!" Logan seems surprised "Well, thank you for that Miss. Woods you have been extremely helpfu..."

"Mommy, we're home!" Dotty calls out from the hall, Lyla stands "Glad I could help detectives. Now if you'll excuse me!" she smiles ushering them out.

In the hall "Oh, who's this?" Dotty asks, "Just a couple of detectives, someone was attacked at The monkey last night!" Lyla quickly explains trying to rush them out "Oh no! You are ok though?" Dotty asks concerned. "Yup, I'm fine, mom!" she says as Dotty gets Teddy out of the stroller "Aww who's this little fella?" Logan asks Dotty, "My beautiful grandson!" Dotty beams.

Walter is taken aback clear running the numbers in his head, "How old is he?" Walter asks, "four months!" Lyla lies not looking at him. Dotty tuts "Those sleepless nights have got to ya. He's seven months old!" Dotty corrects her. Lyla doesn't look his way "Right, I need to shower, so I hope you have all you need Detectives and I hope you catch whomever attack Mr. Johnson!" she practically pushes them out the front door wanting them out.

"Well, it was nice meeting you Detectives!" Dotty calls after her daughter and the detectives.

Once they step over the threshold she slams the door close before taking a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

After finally settling Teddy, Lyla collapses onto the sofa, but there's a light knock on the front door "Argh! Really?!" she gets up and heads to the front door, turning the doorknob pulling the door open to find Detective Walters there on her doorstep.

Crap! No more hiding! She thought "Detective?" he smiled at her "Can I come in?" from his tone she could tell that wasn't a question for the second time today she steps aside letting him in before closing the door.

"Go through." she tells him as she follows "Nice place!" he makes small talk "Thanks. Errr..can I ask why you are here?" she says as they take a seat on the sofas, Dean takes a deep breath "Your son...is he mine?"

There it was. The moment she never believed she'd have "Yes!" was all she could say, "You are sure?" he questions her, "Yes, like I said, that night I don't do one night stands!" his hands ran down his face "Why didn't you tell me?" he says leaning forward with his head in his hands.

"Because you left before I even woke. I never saw you again and by the time I found out you were long gone. It wasn't like you gave me your number to call you! It was a one night thing no stings attached!"

"I thought you were on the pill?" he turns to look at her, "I was, but these things aren't a hundred percent come on even you must know that!" he sighed, "I know, I'm sorry it's just...I can't have a kid. He will have a target on his back!" her fingers rubbed her temple "Come on, you can't tell me that all detective are childless?!" she mocked him.

"It's not that...it's - I'm not a detective! In my line of work you can't have a family because they get you killed!" she looks at him confused "W-what?" she's saw their badges, those were real "I hunt monsters!" she laughs, "Funny!" he huffs, "It's true, me and my brother Sam are hunters!" "But what about the guy at the bar? Why were you interested in him? If you hunt monsters?"

"He was bitten by a werewolf and we are trying to find the person that attacked him." she laughs, but soon realizes he isn't joking. "B-but they don't exist, at least not outside books and fairy tales!" "I hate to break it to ya darling, but everything that goes bump in the night is real." she shook her head not wanting to believe him.

"Now do you see why I can't have a family?" he asks her, "Sorry, it's not like I can just return him....that's it! You're making this up, so you can pretend he doesn't exist!" he's shocked "No! That's not it at all!" "It is!" she hisses back at him "Get out!" she stands waiting for him to do the same "It's the truth!" he protests, but she's having none of it, she can smell a rat a mile off.

"I said get out!" she raises her voice a little, he doesn't argue instead he moves past her and leaves. She couldn't believe she thought he wanted to be a part of his son's life, but she knew they would be fine without him.

Won't she?!

Chapter 2

#dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic series #supernatural #spnfandom #SPN #dean winchester x Lyla woods #dean x mc #teddy series #@pixie88

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tay-is-writing · 4 years ago

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All I Want For Christmas — Tamaki Amajiki x Reader

Hi this fic is a part of the Winter Wonderland Collab be sure to check it out! The masterlist is currently pinned or you can find it here and you can find the fics reblogged under the tag #winter wonderland collab. I hope you enjoy! Word Count: 1.3k Synopsis: You and your boyfriend have an annual tradition of enjoying the decorations on Christmas Eve, but this year Tamaki has a surprise Warnings: none Below Cut

It was the way his cheeks were flushed red as snow dusted his hair that made you fall in love over and over again. You looked down at your hands, his pinky lightly wrapped around yours. Back when the two of you first started dating, Tamaki refused to hold hands with you to the point where you believed he didn’t really like you. It took a few weeks for you to confront him about it before he admitted he was insecure about his hands being sweaty and gross to you. Even after your constant reassurance that he could never disgust you, the two of you settled on linking pinkies. It was fitting too. Not overly touchy, but it served as a reminder that the other was still there.

The two of you strolled down the street, gazing at all the different decorations set out. It was Christmas Eve and it had become a tradition between the two of you to go for a walk right before midnight. The tradition started before the two of you were even dating. Back when you were just roommates, your flight home got cancelled due to inclimate weather leaving you alone. Tamaki had invited you to his parents’ house that night and he took you on a walk to show off his hometown. Looking back on it, that’s when you first noticed your newly developed feelings.

Years later you couldn’t imagine being with anyone else on this night.

No one else could make looking at pretty lights and laughing at ugly ones as fun as him. A small gasp left your mouth as you passed by a house whose front yard was filled with inflatables. You practically dragged Tamaki over to look at them, much to his surprise.

“Tamaki let’s take a picture with this one!” You begged, pointing out a familiar looking dog inflatable with a Santa hat on. He gave a sheepish smile as you faced your camera at the two of you. You gave him a quick peck on the cheek before taking the picture, his face turning redder than it already was. You loved that red.

After an embarrassed whine from Tamaki, the two of you continued your stroll around town. Passing by a larger group of people, Tamaki dropped your pinky for a moment to wrap an arm around you. You let yourself fall into him, savoring the warmth he let off. With your head against his chest, you could hear his heartbeat through his coat. His steady breaths left small puffs of fog in the air. After you passed through the group you felt him pull away. Not wanting him to let go just yet, you gave his arm a small tug as if to say “stay.” A small smile formed on his lips and he wrapped both arms around you squeezing you tight.

And the two of you walked that way, you snuggled up in his arms, down the block. Just the two of you, blissfully unaware of the world. The world including a group of children throwing snowballs at each other. Unfortunately, this resulted in you getting smacked in the head with said snowball.

The children stared at you in fear, ready to get scolded. But you simply picked up a snowball and threw it in the direction the last one came from. This got you caught up in the fight and somehow, you and Tamaki got stuck on opposite sides to make it even. Tamaki was slightly nervous to hit you hard. On the other hand, you were out for blood. Though you weren’t particularly good, and the children made up for it, making sure both you and Tamaki got a fair share of snowballs launched at both of you.

After they were called inside for the night, you and Tamaki lost it over how you got entangled in that mess and decided it was time for you to head home too.

The two of you were still laughing at your soaked clothes as you stumbled into the apartment. The lights wrapped around your interior gave the room a warm glow and you wanted nothing more than to collapse in the living room with him. You gave him a quick peck under the mistletoe that hung at the doorway like you did whenever the two of you came home together, before offering to let him take a shower first, which he quickly denied.

“If I shower first, you have to open your present first,” you bargained, knowing that “argument” would be next. He quickly nodded his head yes and shooed you into the shower. You were surprised he agreed that fast but shook it off and hopped into the warm shower. Exiting, you put on your Christmas pajamas that Tamaki had a matching pair of. As you entered the kitchen, you were greeted with him heating apple cider on the stovetop. You leaned over and placed your head on his shoulder, watching him stir the pot.

“I can take over now if you want,” you offered, sliding your hand over his to grab the spoon. He gave you a soft peck on the forehead as a thank you before leaving you to shower himself. You poured the drink into two glasses and let it cool so it wouldn’t be too hot to drink by the time he got back. When he did arrive, it was in pajamas that matched your own; white reindeer running along dark blue fabric. He grabbed both glasses and took them to the coffee table while you grabbed a blanket to bundle up together under.

Every Christmas Eve, after the clock had gone past midnight, the two of you exchanged a single gift before going to bed. It was another tradition you had picked up after that first Christmas you spent with him. Although that year, you were both extremely unprepared leading to gifts that weren’t particularly appealing to either party but you both still kept. The ugly mug he had gotten you years ago still sat in your kitchen and he still wore the slightly funky-looking beanie that went with nothing he owns.

You let out a sigh of comfort as you sank into the couch, the heated blanket wrapped around the two of you. You pulled out your gift for him, eager to see his reaction. Staying true to his earlier promise, Tamaki unwrapped your present first. It was a simple gift that you had made for him, but that’s what you would often exchange on Christmas Eve, saving the grander presents for the next morning. His delicate fingers maneuvered through the wrapping paper to reveal a scarf you had knitted for him.

“I remember how you said your old one had gotten lost at the train station so I made you a new one,” you explained sheepishly. He put the gift down to engulf you in a hug.

“I love it,” he whispered softly in your ear before pulling away. He reached back down to pick the scarf up along with the gift he had for you.

The lights from the tree reflected off the silver wrapping paper, intriguing you as to what was inside. You carefully unwrapped the present trying to figure out what it was. The gift was rather small, so you assumed it was something along the lines of jewelry. Maybe a pair of earrings you had pointed out to him while shopping? Honestly, it didn’t really matter what it was to you. It was from Tamaki so you knew you’d love it regardless. You finally slid the wrapping paper off and stared down at the small velvet box. Your fingers delicately opened it. Tamaki shuffled next to you and you knew what it was before looking at it.

The box was slid from your hand and Tamaki sat on the floor down on one knee. You couldn’t help but let out a soft gasp as tears prickled from your eyes.

“I know it’s pretty selfish of me to ask for another gift on Christmas, but the best present would be you.”

#winter wonderland collab #tamaki x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #amajiki x reader #tamaki amajiki #bnha x reader #bnha tamaki #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #x reader #x you #x y/n #mha tamaki #boku no hero academia x reader #bnha fanfic #gender neutral reader #tays fics

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 5 years ago

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Imagine:

The reader having an office fling with Erik/Work Hubby

Warnings: SMUT

It’s gonna be two parts because it’s really long and detailed to start. LIKE & REBLOG

You wake up on a Monday morning after enjoying your short weekend to start another 9-5 workweek. Even though a part of you wished that you could work from home another part of you wanted to go into the office so you could see Erik. Your work boyfriend. On Saturday you got your hair done in some knotless box braids, went to the spa, and did a little bit of shopping for some new office attire. Today you decided to wear some of that office attire. Nude wrap skirt, a mauve colored wrap top with bell sleeves and some So Kate pumps in a nude color. Your boyfriend and Erik shared the same name but instead, your boyfriend’s name was spelled with a “C”, not a “K”. That boyfriend in question was a personal trainer and vlogger who traveled to try different restaurants mainly in Cali and NYC. He took a two week trip to NYC with a group of his guy friends. You were used to it and grew not to care so much about it. He was living his life to the fullest.

But were you living your life?

Working as a Secretary for an Environmental Technology company that makes billions of dollars gave excellent pay. The money is good but the only thing to look forward to is your gossiping friend Regina who sat in a cubicle directly next to you and Erik, the Lead Environmental Engineer who was also a Biomedical Engineer. He’s charming, witty, mesmerizing, attractive, hardworking, can be very headstrong at times, loves ramen, and has a cat named Paws. Erik with the “K” has you blushing whenever he locked eyes with you, stuttering while you both have random conversations during tea and coffee breaks, texted you funny memes during meetings when you were supposed to be taking notes, instant messages you from his cubicle computer to bug you saying things like:

-Wyd big head?

-Did Eric with the “C” see you leave the house today in that short ass skirt?

-Connie keeps talking to me with her funky ass breath. Help me 🥺.

-So, when are you going to boss up and get an office? I wanna be next to my work bae.

-You wanna get lunch together? My treat. It’s a surprise.

-I know you and Regina are gossiping about me 😌.

-I missed you after work yesterday.

He’s also the reason why you stayed later on Wednesday and Thursday nights. You would help him brainstorm ideas about improving pollution and what he should say in his speech about global issues such as climate change. He even asked you if you wanted to come with him to Alaska to test the water there but you hadn’t given him an answer yet. You really really wanted to but being alone with Erik wasn’t such a good idea. You were afraid to be in another location besides LA with him for reasons you’d rather not admit to.

After making Erik and yourself an egg white and veggie omelet with a Belgian waffle you headed out the door and to your Prius. Arriving at the office on time, you badge in and take the lobby elevators up to the fifth floor. Stepping off of the crowded elevator, you walk towards the newly decorated staff lounge to put away the food. It was 8:25 am and Erik wouldn’t be in for another ten to fifteen minutes. The lounge had Dunkin Donuts laid out and freshly brewed coffee. You fought the temptation of grabbing a chocolate glazed donut to go to your cubicle and boot your Mac desktop computer so you could check your company email. You said Goodmorning as you walked by. Regina was playing Candy Crush on her cell when you arrived.

“Goodmorning, Gina.” You placed your Chanel bag behind the desktop computer in your cubicle.

“Morning, sis,” Regina tapped away on her phone, “Did you sleep okay?”

“Better this time around, yes,” You flipped your box braids over your shoulder while leaning back in your office chair to talk to Regina, “I haven’t heard from Eric all weekend.”

“Which one?”

You pursed your lips, “You know which one.”

She laughs, “Erik with the C. What’s up with that?”

You shrug, “Don’t know and don’t care. He acts like he can’t answer my calls or texts so I can check up on him so I’ll act like he doesn’t exist.”

Regina gave you a knowing look, “I’m sure you and Erik with the K, aka Captain Planet, texted his work bae, Miss Y/N, all weekend long.”

You bite your bottom lip to fight a goofy smile.

“See,” Regina crosses her dark chocolate legs, “he’s not just your work bae. He’s Daddy.”

“Stop!” You throw a pen at her chest, before lowering your voice, “Erik and I are not having sex, Gina. We may flirt and text outside of work-“

“And during work hours,” Regina interjected.

“Like I said, we are not having sex-“

“Who’s not having sex?”

Regina and your head turned to stare up at Erik Stevens. He had his briefcase in one hand and a black coffee with extra brown sugar in his other hand. Tailored suit colored navy blue with gold cuff links. Burberry dress shoes on his feet. Vintage gold-plated oval eyeglasses over his onyx eyes. He gave Regina and you a teasing smile. The smile where he raised one corner of his mouth to reveal a single deep dimple.

“Y/N,” Regina answered with wide playful eyes.

“Oh?” Erik gave Y/N a mournful look, “Damn, ma. That’s too bad.”

You glare at them both, “I will ignore both of y’all the rest of the day if you keep fucking with me.”

You got up from your seat, pushing in your chair, and tried your best to ignore the snickering from them both. Walking away, Erik was right on your tail, his hand reaching out to grab your shoulder to stop you.

“Calm down, it’s all jokes,” he licks his full lips, “But seriously...no sex between you and your man?”

Groaning, you walk into the lounge to grab the food.

“Why are we having this conversation?”

“Because I’m concerned,” Erik turned his back to lean against the counter with his arms folded over his chest, “You know you can talk to me, right?”

You place his food inside the microwave to heat, “I know. It’s just embarrassing, Erik.”

Erik grabs your chin to make you stare at him instead of the microwave, “Don’t even give me that excuse. Remember, we shared a lot of embarrassing stories in this office after hours.”

How could you forget?

“Yeah...it’s boring, Erik. I’m sure you’re having the best sex of your life in your fancy penthouse. Probably having orgies with models and actresses. They love a sweet and caring guy,” Y/N said sarcastically.

Erik’s tongue grazes the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling, “Why orgies specifically?”

“Is that all you focused on?!!” You shove him before taking his food out, “gosh, I hate you.”

Erik takes a swig of his coffee, “which is girl code for gosh, I love you,”

You shook your head with a grin, “leave me alone.”

“Which means, give me attention,” Erik grabs both of your shoulders, before bringing his head around to plant a kiss on your cheek, “I know y’all female dictionary like the back of my hand.”

Your head turned to face him after his lips caressed your cheek. Now, that area was warm and ticklish. Erik grabs his food and walks over to one of the tables. That gave you some time to breathe and heat your food as a distraction. Why did he have to kiss you? It’s not like he’s never done it before but every time he did it, Erik made you melt and wish it were your lips instead.

“You make some bomb food, girl. I think I’m jealous of Eric with a C.”

“Says the guy who makes the best shrimp and grits I have ever tasted besides my grandma,” you take a seat in front of him. While you ate you watched him cut into his waffle covered in syrup. His long lashes curled each time he blinked and his lips were so pouty and kissable whenever he concentrates the way he does. You felt like a schoolgirl watching him eat.

“So,” Erik chews his food some more before talking, “Alaska.”

“What about it?” You play it off by cutting your omelet up.

“Y/N,” Erik raised his brow at you, “You know about Alaska this is my fourth time bringing it up.”

“When is it?”

“In a month,” Erik takes a swig of his coffee to wash down his food before leaning forward on his elbows to make you look at him, “it’s gonna be for a week, all paid for, a mini-vacay with skiing, Matanuska Glacier walk, and lunch, helicopter tour, cozy cabin...”

Erik tilted his head at you and smiled. You looked down at your food bashfully. It all sounded so tempting. You would love to go...

“I don’t know, Erik,” you shake your head, “Eric will be home and-“

“How many trips does he take leaving you home?”

“More than I can count,” you reply shamefully.

“Exactly. I ain’t tryna overstep but...” Erik left it at that and went back to his food. You slouch in your chair deep in thought. Erik has a point. Your boyfriend traveled whenever he pleased and didn’t even ask how you felt about it once. You respected that he wanted to drop his career as a teacher to travel, eat, and vlog. Not once did he suggest taking you on one of his food journeys. You honestly felt left out.

You deserve some fun too.

Moving your food around with your fork, you finally come to a decision.

“I’ll go.” You spoke softly as if you couldn’t believe you’d just agreed to it.

“Seriously?” Erik asked with his eyes unblinking and on yours.

“Yes,” you let out a breath, “I’ll go to Alaska and have some fun for once. I haven’t been out of town in so long it’ll feel good to go.”

Alaska with Erik Stevens. For an entire week. Just you and him. Your knees shook under the table.

“See,” he smirked while stabbing a piece of omelet with his fork, “It’s crazy how I had to ask your ass four times total to come with me.”

“Why is that crazy?” You asked with a laugh.

“Because it never takes a woman this long to say yes to me,” he says in a very boastful manner.

“I’m not your woman though,” you say before you could even stop yourself.

“You are my woman,” Erik rested his tongue on his upper lip before grinning, “just at work and without the sex, kissing, taking showers together-“

“Okay, you made your point, boyfriend.” You stop him before he continued.

“Does Eric know about me?”

“A little,” you look towards the ceiling, “ he’d probably cancel all his travel plans if he knew how you looked.”

Erik bit into his bottom lip, “how do I look, Y/N?”

“Fine as hell,” you giggle as if you were drunk, “He already thinks he’s the finest thing walking.”

“That’s your man though,” Erik chuckles, “You think he’s fine, right?”

“I mean, yeah, of course.”

Both of you laugh.

“I swear,” you wave him away, “you play too much.”

“Don’t make me steal you away from him.” Erik laughed. His laugh made your stomach do summer salts.

“Okay, Erik,” you speak in a dismissive tone.

“I mean, I could though.”

“Why do you insist on playing?! If I was single-“

“You would be mine,” Erik finished.

“You can have any woman you want. Why me?”

Erik scanned your body at that table, “Really? What you mean? Have you seen yourself, ma?”

“Stop,” you giggle. He can’t be serious. Erik is a flirt but why on earth would he play like this?

“You always think a nigga playing when I say that shit.” He sounded offended. You didn’t have a reply for that. Avoiding his intense eyes you finished your food while Erik closed his empty container and placed it on the counter next to the thermal lunch bag you brought the food in.

“Aight let me get to my desk,” he grabs his coffee and walked up towards you. Erik moves your box braids from your shoulder before grabbing the back of your neck gently. The feel of his smooth fingertips on your skin made the hairs on the back of your neck and arms rise.

“I’ll see you later, babe.”

You blush with a mouth full of food, “Okay, I’ll see you later too, baby.”

His fingers left your neck and combed through your box braids before he walked away and out of the lounge. You were so preoccupied with his fingers on the back of your neck and in your hair that you lost your appetite.

——

You stood at Regina’s cubicle halfway listening to her speak and the other half focusing on Erik in his office. He looked bored as hell. Your eyes watched him ball up random printer paper from his fax machine to shoot into his document waste basketball hoop that he had in the corner near the door. He made it perfectly every time. Erik had the coolest office out of all the other Environmental Engineers. Besides the typical Newton’s Cradle pendulum balls that’s a famous desk accessory, he had a tropical tabletop fountain, stress relief visual illusion toys, stainless steel pin art hand mold, darts, a Rubik’s cube, Nintendo switch, and many other cool and fun shit.

“Girl,” Regina said chewing on a granola bar, “You’re not even paying attention to me.”

“I am,” You allow your eyes to fall on her accusatory ones, “I’m just...looking around.”

“No,” Regina puts up a hand to stop you, “You’re looking at Erik.”

Both Regina and yourself look over at him, spotting Erik walking back and forth now with his suit jacket removed and the sleeves of his white dress shirt rolled up. He was finger juggling a pen with his right hand while speaking into a Bluetooth in his ear.

“You might as well let him ruin you, Y/N,” Regina says with a whisper.

“Oh my God, Gina,” you stomp across the carpeted floor in your pumps before taking your seat again to finish organizing in Microsoft Excel.

“He could flirt with any other woman in here. Connie, Demetria, Anita, Nicole, any of those chicks, but he chooses you. Why is that, Y/N?”

“I don’t know, Gina, enlighten me,” You roll your eyes.

“No need. You already know. Erik is feeling you, heavy baby. Heavy like that ass in that skirt that we both know you purposefully wore today to make him look.”

“OKAY.” You stop her with an abrupt tone, “Fine. Yes, Gina. Yes, I know Erik is feeling me. But I am in a relationship and I can’t just-“

“Heffa, please,” Regina laughs, “don’t even try that shit with me. You are feeling him just the same. You and Eric with the C don’t even exist when you walk in here. It’s obvious you don’t want to be with that man anymore and I wouldn’t be surprised if he is fucking some chick in NYC and secretly taking her on his little food quests. You can look at me like that all you want but deep down you know I’m speaking facts.”

“Gina,” you speak with a warning, “I will throw this stapler at your head next.”

“Won’t. Change. The. Truth,” Regina flips her long ponytail.

A part of you did believe that Eric was cheating on you. It was so obvious at times but you didn’t want it to come to that. You and Eric have been together for about five years. But then again, that shit doesn’t matter. If it did, he would be worried about fixing the relationship instead of traveling for views.

Ping Ping

-Here comes Connie. Let me take a big gulp of air before she walks in here.

Erik instant messaged you. You snicker like a child doing some sneaky shit. He was so damn goofy.

-Damn. Why don’t you just offer her some gum?

-If I do that she’ll know I think her breath stink.

-Just play it cool. Have some sitting out, grab a piece, and offer her a stick. It’s that simple.

-she talks too damn much. Just talk to me about the Alaska job so I can be prepared. That’s why I’m glad you’re coming with me.

You looked up over your cubicle to watch Connie talking animatedly while Erik swivels in his chair from side to side.

Catch my eye.

Onyx met chestnut.

Erik covered his mouth with his fist to hold in his laughter before placing his hand up at Connie, from what it looked like, to reassure her that he wasn’t laughing at what she’d said.

-want me to drag her out of there by that takky blouse?

-Why are you such a gangsta, girl? LOL aight, come handle my light work, ma

-not before I get a hospital mask so I don’t breathe in her toxic fumes. Llab

-😂😂😂😂😂 straight stupid.

You snicker again.

“What is so damn funny?” Regina peered over at you with curious eyes.

“Just IM with Erik,” you bite the gel acrylic on your thumb nail to smother your giggles, “He can’t stand Connie.”

“Mhm,” Regina smiles, “y’all so damn cute just get married already.”

-she’s gone 😁

-let's celebrate lol.

Erik sends fireworks through the IM. You send balloons.

-enough about her. I see you 👀

-what’s that?

-you showing off. That attire is hella tight. What you doing with all of that?

-nothing. Lol, why do I have to be doing something?

-I know you wore that for my eyes only. I feel special.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard. He was going down that lane. You weren’t prepared but still, you typed away.

-I figured you would appreciate it since my man wasn’t home to admire it before I left.

-Yo’ nigga got some screws loose because I wouldn’t be away letting my girl walk out the house like that.

-like what?

-with all that ass sitting in that skirt.

-can’t help that I have a lot to work with.

-ain’t no problem for me. If you were fucking with me Y/N I’d make you forget your name. Real talk.

You crossed your legs under the desk and rubbed the back of your neck. If he fucking bitches to make them forget their identities then that means his dick really ain’t nothing to play with.

-nothing to say huh?

-I’m just thinking.

-about what? Talk to me.

-why you really want me to come to Alaska with you.

-😌

-well? You’re gonna tell me why?

-Because I want you to myself.

-So I can show you something you’ve been missing.

-Eric ain’t putting it down on my work bae like he should be.

You were so damn nervous. Day by day Erik would grow more frustrated with Eric and your situation. Like Regina said, just let Erik ruin you. It’s a shame to say that you haven’t had sex in about a month. It was just you, your fingers, and your favorite vibrator. It could be Erik, his fingers, his dick, his mouth, and multiple orgasms.

-He’s not. It’s been too long. ☹️

-You ain’t gotta tell me how long. I can see it in your body language.

You twirl a braid in your hand. Looking away from your computer, you try to be discreet, bringing your eyes to peer over the top of your cubicle into Erik’s office. He was drinking a bottle of water while his eyes concentrated on the computer screen with knitted brows. He placed his bottle on the desk and leaned in, typing again.

Ping ping

-Don’t ignore me before I walk over there.

-ooooo I’m scared.

-Aight, bet. I’m coming.

-I want you to think long and hard about that, Stevens.

You were flustered, wet, shaken up that he wanted to “show you” what you’ve been missing, and willing to risk it all if he left his office space to come to talk to you.

-that’s what she said. 😈

You chuckle. He could turn any topic into sex.

“Hey, Erik,”

You look up to find him standing next to your cubicle while Regina looked at the both of you with interest. You stand from your seat, ready to get yourself some water but Erik has your shoulders.

“Where you going?” His husky voice tickled your ear.

“For some water.”

Erik starts massaging your shoulders lightly.

“Can I come with you? I need to stretch my legs.”

“Whatever, I don’t care.” You lead the way.

But you did care. You wondered what he was up to. Now that you walked ahead of him with that very tight wrap skirt on you felt exposed like he has x-ray vision and can see your phat dimpled cheeks bounce and sway. Thank God for an empty lounge. You walk over to the fountain, grabbing a cup, and Erik was right on your side, holding the tap down for you. Your cheeks poke out to hide your blush.

“Thank you,” you speak softly. His eyes were intent on you. Not once did you give in and look his way while drinking that ice-cold water. Suddenly unable to breathe you back up a little to make some space between you two. Erik followed with his hands in the pockets of his slacks.

“Don’t you have a ton of work to do?” You ask to try and divert the attention away from you. Too late. Erik was determined to make you weak in front of him.

“I do but we have a long day, ma. I’ll get it done. I just couldn’t stand being away from my work bae.”

You rub your fingers along the wet cup, “I’m convinced now that you only come to work to be near me.”

“I’m cool with that,” He shrugs, “I could be a whole lot of things if it wasn’t for your man who’s supposed to be home with you.”

“He’ll be back-“

“And then he’ll be gone again,” Erik let’s out a sigh, “We’re playing too many games, Y/N. I’m tired of the flirting back and forth when I know you really want me. Stop coming in here to impress me with these bomb-ass outfits. I’ve been impressed for over a year now.”

Erik closed the space between you both, pressing his chest against your fuller one. You look over his shoulder to make sure no one was coming and when the coast was clear you focused your heated gaze on him.

“I’m tryna undress you with my fucking hands, not my eyes.” Erik takes his fingers to play with the bow of your wrap skirt, “You feel what I’m saying?”

You couldn’t speak. Your eyes were to busy admiring this gorgeous man who wanted to fuck you. His inviting eyes saw exactly what you wanted. A long, hard, fuck. Taking his fingers, Erik grabs your chin delicately to stroke. He made you feel so precious and desired.

“So, can I do that?” Erik asked with his lips kissing along your jawline. Your eyes landed on the door to check it and still, no one was there.

“Can I take care of you, ma?”

Yes.

You had this look in your eyes, this look that said, please, Daddy, come fuck me. He smelled so damn good. So invigorating and moisturizing. You could make out a hint of exotic arabica coffee and coconut oil on the skin of his neck.

“No,” you lick your upper lip, “No, you can’t.”

His lips found yours. He swallowed that no with his full lips and tongue. Both of you knew that your answer was disbelieving when your hands came up to wrap around his neck. That was a green light for Erik. His hands came around your waist, and then down to cup your ass. He would alternate between rubbing your spine and making your cheeks bounce in his hands. Erik rests his chin on your shoulder so he could peer behind you to watch his hands squeezing all that ass on you. He would let it go and watch it bounce before slapping it lightly so he wouldn’t make a lot of noise. You felt your heart in your throat. Now, his crotch was pressed into yours. Long and hard indeed. Let’s not forget thick.

“You free tonight?” He whispered in your ear.

“Yeah,” you could feel him lifting you from the floor to sit your bottom on the counter. He was between your legs while your hands reach for his tie to tug on. It distracted you from being so nervous. His hands rested on your exposed upper thighs rubbing your warm skin in slow circles to sooth you. All he was doing was killing you. His touch was so soft and gentle but under all of that was a rough dominating grasp that you yearned for

You weren’t sure which throbbing you wanted to quiet more—the throbbing between your legs or the throbbing from your heartbeat against your chest. All those daydreams about rubbing your swollen pussy lips all over Erik’s face until you came. Now that the both of you crossed yet another line——the touching and kissing line, there was no telling what would happen next. Sex after hours in the office on his desk? Walks to the parking lot only to fuck in the back seat of his car? Happy hour on Friday evenings only to get drunk and have sex at his penthouse?

“Can I come over to keep you company?”

“I don’t know, E. This office fling situation can fuck with both of our jobs.” You nibble on your bottom lip the second his lips came into contact with your throat.

“Nobody gotta know,” his plush lips sought out yours again, “It can be our little secret, baby.”

“But what if someone does find out?”

“It won’t happen like that, trust me,” Erik grabs your hand to rest against his crotch. Erik was swelled to cum-inspiring proportions, making you want to finger-fuck yourself with mounting enthusiasm.

“Damn, Erik.” Now you were thinking about this office fling as a carnal delight after hours.

“I know, right? Imagine me walking around all day, watching you with these big titties...shapely legs...and round ass…”

You had the body, beauty, and brains. That meant that you seldom went unnoticed; especially not by Erik, your work bae. Your slant eyes and supple body reminded him of a jungle cat that, when tamed, purred like a kitten. He wanted to hear you mewl and whimper in his ear while his dick that was currently twisted and curved in his briefs bounced off the walls of your pussy. He could see the lust in your feline eyes how quickly you noticed his arched appendage. You were probably fantasizing about what wonderful things it could do for your G-spot.

“Keep looking at me like that and watch I finger-fuck this pussy right here,” Erik’s eyes went down to look at the Apple watch on his wrist, “It’s almost that time to eat. I’m tryna eat something else though…”

“Eat me?” You couldn’t control that slipping from your mouth.

“Slob on this yummy pussy,” his hand was between your legs now, caressing the outside of your saturated panties, “You gonna feed me?”

“Where?” You whisper.

“Shit, we can go to my car for lunch. I got tinted windows.” Erik was desperate to slide his tongue inside you.

“Erik, this is crazy.” You laugh faintly before he took your face into his hands, gazed into your eyes, and kissed you so urgently it felt as if you were floating away. You could think of nothing else but how good he made you feel. Erik explores your mouth with his tongue, not wanting you to miss an inch of how skilled he was using his mouth.

“You’ll be begging me to make this pussy feel good in a minute.”

You were relentless with your hands squeezing the weight of Erik’s curved erection in his black slacks. You really wanted to untuck his dress shirt, get down on your knees, and suck him with a wide-open mouth. Keep your mouth as wide-open as was physically possible—anxiously awaiting your reward.

“Don’t worry babe,” Erik gently pulls your hand away from his crotch, “wait for lunch and you can have me all to yourself, okay?”

———

You waited and waited. As soon as Erik left that lounge to go back to his desk a last-minute meeting was called and of course, you had to attend as well. Everyone got up from their designated spots to head to the conference room. You squeezed into the same elevator cart as Erik, moving to the back so you could be near him. On purpose, you settle in front of him. Erik’s hand reached out to play with your thick ass while you focused on your phone. That only lasted for about ten seconds because now you were on the 6th floor. Hungry for his touch again you allow everyone else to leave so he could slap your ass.

During the hour-long meeting, both of your eyes would meet and knowing smiles would appear on both of your faces. You didn’t like the fact that Demetria was seated next to him with her cleavage hanging out from her black blazer. She tried her best to make Erik notice her but he didn’t give a fuck about her thirsty actions.

It was well past lunchtime and most of the office had gone to either the food court in the building or outside to find something different to eat for a change. Your stomach was rumbling waiting for Erik. Groaning, you put your computer to sleep before grabbing your Chanel bag to leave for lunch by yourself. It wasn’t Erik’s fault, you knew that, but you couldn’t help being upset and sexually frustrated. No pussy eating or dick sucking in his G Wagon 550 SUV in a desert silver metallic color.

Eating alone was boring and lonely. You played with your Caesar salad and hardly even toughed the veggie lasagna. How were you supposed to feed your appetite when it was salivating for dick? You were so excited to finally hook up with Erik. Checking the time on your phone, you had about two hours left in your shift. You pack away the food and decide to save it for dinner tonight. Standing up, you push in the silver chair at the food court table, walking away with a click-clack of your So Kate pumps. You thumb the elevator button before slipping a piece of gum into your mouth. The doors open up and you enter, turning to watch them shut as your reflection appeared.

Ping ping

Erik -where did you go?

-To lunch. I was hungry.

Erik- Really? Why didn’t you wait for me?

-Because I was STARVING. Plus, you were busy.

Erik- I’m not busy anymore. Where are you now?

-Heading back upstairs.

Erik- I’ll wait for you.

-Erik, I have to go back to work!

Erik- fuck that you know what I want.

DING. Fifth Floor.

“Told you I’ll wait for you,” He smiles at you dangerously.

You almost swallow your gum the way he approached you. You and him, alone in that elevator. Erik kisses your lips, savoring the minty taste from the gum. He pulled back, taking his thumb to wipe the spit from his bottom lip. He turns around to press the 4th-floor button since that’s were the garage entrance was. Suddenly you were shaking in your pumps. It was really going to happen. Finally, your pussy wouldn’t feel painfully neglected. Finally, you could have the touch of a man on your body after an entire month.

“Are you okay?” Erik asked while looking down at you.

“Yeah, I’m cool,” you give him a reassuring smile.

DING. Fourth Floor.

Down a hallway and through the garage door you both went with your hand in Erik’s. You walk along the concrete ground as your ears took in the sounds of sirens and car horns honking in the middle of traffic. His G-Wagon was parked in a private spot. Erik took his keys out of his suit jacket and unlocked it with a click of a button, even started it up as well. You could hear the engine rumble. The large SUV vibrates as the sound of his radio playing blasted through the speakers. Erik opened the back door, reclining the backseats to lay flat like a bed. He takes off his suit jacket, tossing it in the passenger seat before turning to you, lifting you up, and sitting you in the back.

Once there, you take off your heels and place them far enough away so Erik and you could have plenty of space. Erik sat down, leaning forward to remove his shoes. After that, he unbuttoned his dress shirt before pulling it off and balling it up to toss at the front with his suit jacket. He finally turns, crawling his large chiseled body towards you with playful eyes.

“Is that pussy still as wet as it was earlier today? Can I taste that kitty?”

Erik pulled your legs, laying you down on your back. He was on his knees between your legs, opening them wide causing your skirt to lift and bunch around your waist. He came face to face with that phat puss covered in wet fabric. Your voice was stuck in your throat. Erik takes both of his masculine hands to pull down your already saturated panties, spreading open your legs further, and staring at that pink pussy coated with cream. He could smell your scent. His car smelling like your wet pussy.

“Yeah, this pussy still sloppy,” Erik listened to you purr as he flicked your clit with his thumb. Erik continues to do this while slapping your pussy with his fingers. Each time he slapped your pussy, your juices would build and build to the point of making puddles beneath your ass in his car.

“Can I stuff this pussy with my fingers now,” Erik licked his thick fingers clean, “I wanna squeeze in there deep, baby girl.”

“Yes,” Your cunt was starving.

“Good, girl.”

He plunged first one, then two, then three fingers deep inside your pussy, flickering at your clit at the same time. He was directly over your G spot with the pads of his fingers repeatedly rubbing you there. Your legs went wider and wider. The sound of your succulent pussy increased in such severity that it was almost deafening. Your moans mixed with the sound of The palm of Erik’s hand slapping your cunt each time he finger-fucked you had him grunting and groaning.

“Faster, faster,” You called out while gyrating your hips to fuck his fingers.

“There you go, fuck my fingers, just like that, get it, baby,” Erik bites his lip, “look at you ready to bust a nut on my hand, mmm, get that shit, baby.”

A rush of juices flooded the back seat. Erik’s eyes grew wide as your fingers tightened around him. That liquid poured each time he moved his fingers inside of you. All you could do was moan and shake beneath him. Your ass was glued to that surface.

“Damn, Y/N.” Erik takes his fingers out slowly before licking them clean. He got up on his knees to reach into his trunk, bringing a Puma gym bag over towards him. He opened it with his wet hands, pulling out a thick black towel that was wrapped in a body wash. Erik places that towel beneath your ass to soak up your mess.

“Making a mess in my fucking car.”

“I’m sorry,” You cover your face with embarrassment, “I do that a lot.”

“Don’t apologize about that, ma, I don’t give a fuck. Keep doing it like that on these fingers. Better yet...do it like that on my tongue,” Erik laid flat on his stomach, “You can squirt in Daddy’s mouth too.”

Erik began lapping away at your pussy with such zeal that you were squirming and squealing within minutes. With the flat of his tongue, Erik assaulted your pussy with such a lashing that your legs turned to jello. Erik then probed ever so deeply inside your dripping wet pussy with his pointed tongue, tongue-fucking your slot until your eyes rolled up into your head. He found your throbbing, erect clit and tortured you sweetly with licks and nibbles that sent electric charges throughout your entire body. Grabbing your thighs to squeeze, feasting on that syrupy pussy, Erik’s dick dripped pre-cum in anticipation of your walls capturing his dick and holding tight, while he thrust himself deeper and deeper inside of you.

“Damn, ma, I’m literally drinking this pussy dry.”

“You make me feel so good! Make me feel good, Erik.”

Erik’s tongue circled around your pussy. Each time he did that your hips would jerk. He was fighting that pussy back with his lips and tongue each time you pumped your hips. You gazed into his dark, sexy eyes and increased the movement of your hips.

“Oh, fuck!” Erik wrapped his whole mouth around your pussy and started slurping. All Erik could think about was how good you tasted and the heat radiating from your pussy.

“Shit tastes so good, girl,” He licked his plate clean, “fuck, look at my dick.”

His shit was twisted and curved to the right in those pants. Erik got on his knees to undo his pants. He let out a long sigh of relief the minute his pants and briefs made it down his thighs, resting at his knees. He sat down and pulled the rest of his clothes off, now he was naked from the waist down. You watch his thick dick jerk in his hand. That dick looked like it could bench press a barbell with how hard he was as Erik slid his hand up and down his burgeoning erection. His dick skyrocketed to its highest capacity causing your mouth to drool. Erik pointed out that dick at your mouth. Doing that caused his slit to open and show you his pre-cum waiting to be sucked out.

“Come suck me, baby,” His grip was so tight on his dick.

You obeyed every word and sucked him up into your mouth. Damn, Erik was a big boy. So girthy and veiny. Intimidating for sure. His tip blossomed so thickly your lips had a hard time wrapping around it to suck. Erik with a C ain’t have nothing on this dick. A beautiful slab of tasty meat gliding across your tongue and poking the back of your throat.

“Damn, this is how you do it, ma? You should have warned a nigga first.”

He held the back of your head to guide your mouth lower. Each time he did that, he would grunt and whisper oh, my God, which made you super wet. All you wanted him to do was splatter your mouth with his cum. He was already so close to detonation so you opened up as wide as you could stretch to fill him all the way in.

“DAYUM!!!” Erik bellowed, “Good girl, don’t waste a fucking drop when I bust in this pretty mouth. Never.”

You graduated from plain old hungry to ravenous. That cum of his sputtering and spurting forth was your reward. The suctioning noise of your hand jerking him empty into your throat mixed with Erik’s deep moans made your pussy convulse around nothing even though you could feel it dripping. You slapped his ever-expanding dick against your tongue.

“Shit,” Erik looked from his wet dick to your face, “Baby girl, I ain’t cum this hard in a minute from getting head.”

You plant kisses all over his dick, working yourself up to more sucking, “I can give you more, Daddy.”

“Give me more of that mouth,” Erik played with your braids, “Swallow my shit and lick my balls.”

“Mmm, okay, Daddy.”

Erik’s eyes rolled back when your lips would suck and then pop off his sack. He had to control himself from cumming in your hair.

“Shit doesn’t make no sense,” Erik looked at you with disbelief before a strangled look filled with passion overtook his features.

“Fffuckkk!!!” He groaned as he blasted inside your mouth with his sweet, sticky offering. You ran your index finger over your bottom lip to retrieve a dollop of cum. That only left you more famished than before causing you to enthusiastically slurp on his rigid pipe again until it was damn near raw and your pussy was sopping wet.

“Y/N,” Erik’s fingers were tight in your hair. You tasted a bit of leftover cum from his slit with your hungry tongue.

Ring Ring

Erik’s cell was going off.

“Shit,” He reached into his pants pockets while you jerked his dick. He answered his phone with an annoyed expression.

“What’s going on, Greg,” Greg was a fellow Environmental Engineer, “What? Right now?” Erik closed his eyes before tossing his head back, “Okay, give me ten minutes.”

Erik hung up his phone.

“We gotta go, ma,” You could hear the disappointment in his voice, “Supposedly it’s something urgent about Alaska.”

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, “Should I be worried about the trip?”

Erik gave you a soft smile, “Nah, Alaska is happening regardless. Don’t worry, bae, we good.”

You pulled your skirt down and placed your wet panties in your bag. You watched Erik fasten his belt in place before he opened the back door to let some air in. You rose from the car, Erik helping you put on your pumps before placing you on your feet. Digging into your bag you sprayed yourself with a little of your Chanel No.5, hoping to camouflage the lingering scent of sex.

Looking in Erik’s rearview mirror, you fix your lipgloss and clothes, everything else good to go. Erik was currently spraying himself down with some Gucci cologne from his Puma gym bag and buttoning his suit jacket. He looked just as crisp as he did when he came in this morning.

“You still ain’t answer my question, beautiful.”

“What question,” Erik grabs your hand while the both of you walked back inside.

“Can I keep you company later?”

You chew on your bottom lip in thought. Eric with the C, your actual boyfriend, might call you later and you didn’t want Erik with the K to be around to raise suspicion. Still, no word from Eric and the longer that happened the more you didn’t give a fuck.

“Am I pressing too much?” Erik asks with soft eyes.

“No, no,” you reassured him, “I just think it would be better to come to your place instead. That’s all.”

“We can do that,” Erik walked towards you with his body pressed into yours, “Bring an overnight bag. You’re not going back home.”

His lips attacked your throat again, sucking and licking you there.

“I ain’t give my work bae some dick yet so you know I gotta take care of you,” His hands found their way back between your legs and on your sensitive pussy, “You gonna let me do that for you?” He asked huskily.

“Oh, Daddy, please do,” you responded.

————

You got home around 6:30 PM. You showered, finished the rest of your lunch since your appetite for dick was satisfied and drank a little bit of red wine.

Surprised, shocked, nervous, you decided to wear a black velour tracksuit with your Fenty slides to Erik’s place and packed away everything else you needed on a faux fur tote bag. Phone sitting on the charger, you go to check it since you received a few notifications since coming home.

Eric with the C.

Eric- I’m alright. Sorry for the lack of communication. Really busy.

-that’s okay. Be safe.

He didn’t respond back.

No I love you, I miss you, I’m thinking about you, nothing.

Luckily the picture Erik sent to you made up for that. It was a shower picture. From his broad shoulders down to his well-knit waist with that v cut covered in soap and water. You had the urge to satisfy the cries leaking from your pussy at the moment. You had half the mind to pull your pants down and finger-fuck your pussy into multiple orgasms leaving your slit covered in sticky cum for him to find. How dare he tease you like that? Since you were spending the night you can look forward to shower with him. This entire fling had your skin tingling. Your fingers scrolled down to read the texts he left you. You really wished you hadn’t because now you were whimpering.

Erik- Can’t wait for you to put that work in for Daddy.

Erik- where you at? I’m tryna put this thang in your gut.

Erik- want me to come to get you?

He was blowing you up. Eric with the C never did this.

-Hey, sorry, I was getting my things together. You don’t have to pick me up.

HONK HONK.

Erik- too late.

You walk to your living room to find Erik parked outside. He was typing away on his phone.

Ping Ping

Erik- Stop making me wait, girl.

You grab your bag, phone, and keys before locking up and leaving. Walking down your cobblestone trail, Erik hops out of his car, walking around to meet you. He was wearing a black Burberry ribbed beanie with a Pyer Moss color block Reebok windbreaker tracksuit on and the same brand of shoes on his feet. He tongued you down before taking your bag to place in the back seat that was now cleaned and placed normally. Erik opened your door to help you up inside before shutting it to return to the driver's side. You watched him walk all the way around and get inside with sultry eyes. With his hand on your upper thigh, he drove off and towards his Penthouse.

@tgigoldie @soufcakmistress @chefjessypooh @chaneajoyyy @pananegra @thehomierobbstark @thee-germanpeach @theblulife @becincere @blaqwidow91 @fish-outta-watah @eyeknowmywrites @crowngold @hearteyes-for-killmonger @goddessofthundathighs @njadakillthiscookie @blktinkerbell @luvanxi @sheisexcellent1 @chocolatedippedinhoney @brandithecrystalgem @dababydababydababydababy @soulfulbeauty19 @btitannaaa @blowmymbackout @sunkissedebony97 @youngblackndgifted @harleycativy @rbhp @thadelightfulone @bugngiz @palmstreesallday @skylahb @bakaris-shorty @nizzle-mo @truglori @queenflaws @ljstraightnochaser @nickidub718 @vikkidc @rent-emspoons @abluesforlyssa @abeautifulmindexposed

#Erik Killmonger #killmonger x reader #killmonger imagine #nahimjustfeelingit writes #killmonger smut

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feigeroman · 4 years ago

Text

Station to Station (funk to funky...)

So, spurred on both by one of my previous headcanon posts getting liked and reblogged by @mean-scarlet-deceiver (who is totally awesome - go check them out), and by The Unlucky Tug’s magnum opus of a video essay about his take on the Island of Sodor (check it out below, and then check him out - both are totally awesome), I decided it’d be a fun idea to share some of my own headcanons about Sodor. Most of these are things I remembered while watching the video, which you can see here...

youtube

...And I’ll be presenting them in the order I remembered them. The video isn’t strictly necessary to understand this post - I just wanted to share it. It’s also worth having a copy of the Sam Wilkinson map (mentioned in the video) to hand, as it’s what I used as the basis for my take on Sodor. Yes, I know it’s a bit of a clusterfuck, but so is my version of the timeline, so...

***

1) Knapford is Tidmouth, and Elsbridge is Knapford

What do I mean by this? Well, what the RWS calls Tidmouth, the TVS calls Knapford. And what the RWS calls Knapford, the TVS calls Elsbridge.

Confused? I certainly was the first time I tried typing that! I’ll just explain the headcanon:

Basically, I go with what the RWS says. In other words, what the TVS calls Knapford, I call Tidmouth (incidentally, I prefer this version with the big yard alongside)...

...And what the TVS calls Elsbridge, I call Knapford. I know this shot doesn’t really show the station, but I decided the yard in the background is part of Knapford as well.

2) Which harbour is which?

This is somewhat similar to HC1, in that I’m changing up some of the names of established locations. There are many docks and harbours on Sodor, but the show mainly focuses on Brendam (and either Knapford or Tidmouth in earlier seasons). Those locations change drastically from season to season, and I wanted to account for most of the various appearances. So in no particular order:

For Tidmouth Harbour, I use the current Brendam Docks (though my headcanon is something nearer to the real-life Southampton Docks).

For Knapford Harbour, I use a mix of S2 Knapford Harbour and S3B Brendam Docks Just imagine that the former evolved into the latter over time.

For Brendam Docks, I use the S2 Brendam Docks.

I’ve loosely based Arlesburgh and Kirk Ronan on the real-life Bristol and Weymouth harbours, respectively.

3) Two or three-track mind

Okay, this was something I only thought up after seeing Tug’s video. He points out that the number of tracks tends to vary between sets, and he decides on the following:

Three tracks means it’s somewhere on the main line.

Two tracks means it’s a branch line.

One track means it’s either the far end of a branch line, or a freight-only line.

However, he also makes the point that some parts of the main line are inexplicably double-tracked, such as Cronk Viaduct (which he moves to Wellsworth, but that’s neither here nor there):

In cases like this, my headcanon is that the main line was originally completed as a double-tracked railway, with most of it being upgraded to triple-track later on. Obviously it may not have been possible or feasible to upgrade certain sections, hence them being left as double-track.

4) Lower Tidmouth

Now here’s one that I really like. This unnamed station from The Three Railway Engines was christened Lower Tidmouth by the TVS modelmakers. It’s located between Tidmouth and Knapford, and sits on the southern outskirts of the former town. Even though Tidmouth is a pretty large town - especially in my headcanon - its main station seems to cope well enough on its own, so why this extra station?

My headcanon is this: During the War, Tidmouth would most likely have been of great strategic importance, with its harbour and rail links - and therefore a prime target for air raids. Just in case the main station was bombed out of action, Lower Tidmouth was constructed just outside what was then the edge of the city, to serve as a temporary passenger terminus. After the War, the rudimentary station was given a major upgrade, after it was discovered that many people living to the south of Tidmouth found it more convenient than the main station.

5) Lower Tidmouth Tunnel

A much smaller idea now. This short tunnel is located between Tidmouth and Lower Tidmouth, and I just want to say I like to imagine that this looks the same as Henry’s Tunnel does in the TVS - two tracks in one bore, one track in the other. The only difference is that it’s built from red brick, as shown here.

6) Some ideas above Edward’s Station

This is a double-barrelled headcanon concerning Wellsworth. One concerns the station itself, and the other concerns its goods yard.

Firstly, the station itself. There’s been a lot of debate about which way round it should be. Should the footbridge be at the western or eastern end? Personally, I think it should be at the western end. My reasoning is that that would allow the bay platform siding (where Henry is in the above picture) to be at the eastern end, facing towards Gordon’s Hill. I assume that’s where Edward would normally be stabled when he’s waiting to bank trains up the hill. I just think it’s more convenient on that front.

As for the goods yard?

Well, I think this is Wellsworth Yard. That’s it. That’s the headcanon.

7) The Parkway Stations

This next headcanon concerns a rather obscure part of the Sodor railway geography - namely, these two tiny stations on the main line.

These stations serve the tiny villages of Balladrine and Kellaby respectively - though, in true railway fashion, they’re actually located some distance from the communities they serve. My original idea was to go down the usual route and just add the suffix Road to the station names, but then I was struck by a flash of real-life inspiration.

In the 1970s, British Rail opened a number of park-and-ride stations, which basically means you drive to the station, park your car and continue your journey by train. They usually have the suffix Parkway, as the first one was built close to the M32, which is also known as the Bristol Parkway.

Anyway, that’s the gist of this headcanon. The North Western jumped on this Parkway bandwagon around that same time, allowing people from the villages to either drive or catch a bus to the stations, and then catch a train to wherever.

8) The new Kellsthorpe Road

In my own personal timeline (which is a whole other headcanon in itself), Season 8 takes place in 1976, and it’s during this season that we see Kellsthorpe Road being built. Obviously the station had existed since the railway was built, so what’s with this new one?

Well, I like to think this was actually a relocation to somewhere more convenient for both the town and the junction with the Kirk Ronan branch.

9) Crovan’s Gate and other small works

I already touched upon this idea before in my Victor’s Haulage Truck headcanon, but if you haven’t read that, it goes like this:

I’m not a huge fan of the Steamworks and Dieselworks being separate facilities in separate locations. I just think the RWS version of Crovan’s Gate makes more sense, seeing as you would want all your major repair equipment and facilities to be concentrated in one location.

That being said, I wouldn’t say all this sort of work should be concentrated at Crovan’s Gate. It’s implied in the RWS that more minor repairs are carried out at smaller workshops across the rest of the system - I’d assume these are located at all the major engine sheds, and that there’s at least one on each branch line. These would also be useful for when there’s more work than Crovan’s Gate can take on at once.

10) The Sheds

Speaking of sheds, I have a handful spread across my version of Sodor. Basically, I have a couple at each end of the main line, and one on each of the branch lines. And since the highest operating district number in real life was 89 (for Oswestry), I’m gonna say all of the NWR’s engines are allocated to District 90, covering all sheds on the region:

Tidmouth (90A)

Knapford (90B)

Crovan’s Gate (90C)

Vicarstown (90D)

Barrow In Furness (90E)

Arlesburgh (90F)

Ffarquhar (90G)

Brendam (90H)

Peel Godred (90I)

Kirk Ronan (90J)

Great Waterton (90K)

Norramby (90L)

11) Dryaw Goods Station

Alright, this one is more about a specific episode than a location, but I thought it was worth throwing into the mix. This goods station only appeared in Thomas Gets Bumped, and nobody is quite sure where it’s meant to be. Some people say it’s Hackenbeck. Others say it’s Toryreck. Me? I’ve always thought of this as the original Dryaw Station, on what is now the Harbour line on the Ffarquhar branch.

I say this because the surrounding scenery matches what’s shown on the map, and it makes sense for a freight-only station to be located on what is now a freight-only line. But if that’s the case, why does Thomas seemingly pass through daily with his passenger train?

I toyed with the idea of Thomas being there because he’s pulling a workers’ train, but then I came up with something better. In my personal timeline, this episode takes place during the initial construction of Knapford Harbour, and the new passenger line with it. More specifically, during a brief interim period between the closure of the original Dryaw to passengers, and the opening of the new passenger line.

12) The Sports Field Halt

At the end of the Sodor Explained video essay, Tug admits that he couldn’t think of anywhere to put this station from Three Cheers For Thomas.

Sam Wilkinson’s map places this halt just south-west of Elsbridge, and that’s where I’ve decided to place it too. Not just because it’s semi-canon, but because do you know what other location is just south-west of Elsbridge?

Yes, this cricket field. In my headcanon, I’ve merged these two locations together. Makes sense, right? They’re both sports related things, next to an embankment, and just south-west of Elsbridge. I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch, and you can always imagine the halt is a request stop serving the sports field.

***

Alright, I think that’s enough headcanons for one post. Firstly, because I underestimated just how much I had to talk about. And secondly, I’ve always said it’s not wise to put all your eggs in one basket. It’s much more sensible to just put out a short thing, let it simmer for a while, and then finish off the rest later.

I hope you guys have enjoyed this post. I certainly enjoyed finally getting all these thoughts out there. Stay cool, stay safe, and I’ll share the rest of my thoughts at some point in the future (even if they are as insane as the ones I’ve already shared so far!)...

#Thomas The Tank Engine #The Railway Series #ttte headcanon #sodor #island of sodor #North Western Railway

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bluewritesao3 · 4 years ago

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The Handyman: New House & Pot Noodles

Word count: 2.9k

Pairing: Paz Vizsla X Fem!OC

Warnings: Non other than slight embarrassment and talk of car sex (I’m covering all my bases just in case)

Taglist: @maybege, @legally-a-bastard @gallowsjoker

A/N: for new or old readers this has been revamped as an x reader. simple because I’ve been finding it easier to write x readers than i have ocs recently. So please enjoy it and you can come scream at me if you like but don’t forget to reblog cause it helps more than likes do.

Gif credit: @hanyuume

Masterlist | Posted on A03

“Remind me why people move houses?” You whined into the phone wedged between your shoulder and your chin as your co-worker’s laugh sounded through the receiver. “Seriously Jadu. Meetings with the publishing team are more fun.” You scolded pulling another cardboard box marked with ‘kitchen’ in messy sharpie closer to you. You thought there was something wrong with the house or the neighborhood when you originally saw the shockingly low offering price for the house.

With the heavy cardboard tucked under one arm, You singlehandedly heaved it onto the kitchen counter and sliced through all the packaging tape with a box cutter that was wobbly at best. “It's new and sometimes it’s hard, Y/N/N. Remember college-“ Jadu spilt down the phone regaling you with the tale of how he’d walked into their shared accommodation while you were in nothing but a towel. “There's also that midnight romp-“

“I’m going to hang up if you continue.” You scolded as you began to unpack the kitchen box. “But still. Who thinks that car sex is comfortable? I’m sure the searing wheel was trying to merge with my spine.” You joked remembering how the thing had dug into the small of your back and no amount of kissing and touching could distract you from that. Slowly you floated around the small kitchen storing everything away into its proper place, eventually, the house was beginning to look lived in and to like it had sat empty for what the estate agent had described as years.

Glancing at the circular dining table, it had several boxes piled onto it dangerously. You’d chosen to take the majority of moving and reorganising yourself since the other things you were bringing with you was kitchen, bedroom, bathroom and your office. “Still can’t believe you moved out to the middle of nowhere into an almost fully furnished house for dirt-cheap.” Jadu muttered, taking charge of the conversation and expressing his distaste for the house and ‘energy’ around it. You rolled your eyes, and you disposed of the phone on the kitchen counter and hit the loudspeaker button as you tuned to start flattening the cardboard box out while listening to Jadu ramble on about how the photo’s he’d seen of the house were everything but welcoming and that the energy levels were out of ‘whack’.

You muttered quietly to yourself as you went in search of the crumpled water bottle from your bag leaving Jadu to his ramblings even if he believed his concerns were justified. “Have you ever met your neighbours?” Jadu’s recognisably brash tone echoed through the newly packed away kitchen.

You stopped threshold into the kitchen as you took a more than generous gulp from the water bottle, the question had sparked a memory for earlier in the day. “Honestly I’m surprised the neighbourhood welcome committee hasn’t made an appearance.” You chuckled, picking up the phone and placing it on top of the two boxes titled ‘Bedroom’. “How are things at work anyway?” You asked, seeing as you’d now become part of the growing percentage of people working from home.

You listened to Jadu sigh heavily and began talking about how he was missing out on stuff because the company wasn’t allowing him to have as much time off as he used to but given that he worked with a very picky publishing team then it was expected that his workload was almost never-ending. “I mean someone in publishing is giving me a deadline for editing a manuscript that doesn’t belong to one of their clients. Do you see my issue here?” Jadu complained, sounding as if he was passing through the seven stages of grief and got stuck somewhere between bargaining and anger.

You hummed quietly as you ascended the stairs of the old house with a cardboard box under your arm and the other waiting at the bottom of the stairs for when you made the next trip. “Is it Nyla? She’s department head and might be very aware of how ‘quickly’ you zoom through stuff.” You smirked hearing the hefty huff from Jadu on the other end of the phone, Jadu had a pension for leaving some projects till the last minute and then pushing them onto someone else days before the deadline. “Speak of the devil…” Jadu began and added a hurried ‘I gotta go’ before he hung up the phone. Shaking your head, you laughed a little as you stood in the doorway to your bedroom. Whoever lived there previously had removed the door and hadn’t bothered to replace it. The room was sparsely decorated, missing a door and the pastel-painted walls made you want to throw something but at least the mattress looked like it didn’t have any funky-looking stains or weird smells and the rest of the furniture was intact.

“I have to get a bedroom door.” You breathed, settling on the mattress with the box next to you as you fell backwards and released a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. “I have to get food too.” You lamented the idea of your fridge being empty then takeaway sounded good, but you didn’t know what the local one was. “Guess I need to go to the store.” You huffed checking the time on your phone trying to decide if it’s worth going food shopping.

You revealed in the fact that her local grocery store wasn’t a long trek into town, the small grocery store felt like a glowing beacon in the afternoon of the quiet town. Stepping through the automated door, you immediately hesitated not knowing where anything was and almost scolded yourself for thinking that the store's layout was the same as the ones back home. Grabbing a basket, you set off on a small journey looking for anything that looked like it took the least amount of effort and time.

With time you came to know the store and tried to memorise the layout in case you’d need to make another trip during the week. You wandered through the aisles glancing at almost every shelf looking for the next thing on your list of foodie wants. “There you are,” You muttered as you settled your gaze on multiple packages of hard candy, heart stones, they were lightly spiced with cinnamon and reminded you of home and your grandparents, when they used to sneak you a packet every time they visited. “Wasn’t sure if I’d ever find you here.” You whispered to the packs of candy before hucking a total of six of the fairly small packets into the basket along with the pot noodles.

Pulling yourself away from the shelves you continued down the aisle and tried to mentally tally up the contents of your basket before colliding with something solid, sending you back a few steps. “Oh, sweet Jesus.” You yelped, almost giving yourself whiplash as you took in the tall mountain of a guy you’d bumped into. “Sorry about that. Didn’t see you there.” You apologised smiling brightly, as you readjusted your grip on the basket. The washed-out dark blue sweatshirt with a faded with a washed-out college emblem was the first thing that caught your attention simply because it took up most of your vision then it was the sheer size of the guy, he was almost as tall as he was wide or as your grandmother would have put it, he was built to last.

“You alright?” He asked, looking slightly panicked with a large hand extended almost like he was ready to catch her as if she was going to fall. You nodded, muttering your apologies and glanced over your shoulder at the elderly woman at the other end of the aisle seemingly waiting for them both to move. “No harm done.” He smiled and you had to almost choke on the almost inhuman noises trying to escape you. In your head, you were muttering about how downright adorable the guy’s smile was and how stupid you were for saying you didn’t see him there. He’s probably tall enough to change your lightbulbs without a ladder. “Dude how tall are you?” You rushed out before you could grab the words and push them through a verbal processor. Hearing a bassy chuckle rumble out of the man and you joined in almost embarrassed and awkwardly, feeling a warmth radiating from your cheeks and ears. “I’m sorry that’s weird. I’ll be going now.” You motioned as she stepped to the side and the tall guy followed, stepping in front of her again, you stepped to the right and he almost panicked he swapped sides and you unconsciously followed. They both dissolved into a side-to-side step dance almost everyone did at least once in their life.

Ducking down trying to hide the slight flush warming your skin as you glanced over your shoulder at the elderly woman whose shoulders were quietly quacking as she muttered to the teenage boy holding up the seemingly overflowing basket in both hands. “Attracted an audience, haven't we?” The tall guy observed, and you tossed a half-hearted glare at him as you tried to almost disappear into the shelves. “I’m 6’5 by the way.” He muttered sliding past you and went on his way deeper into the relatively small grocery store.

Almost like you were on autopilot, you wandered back towards the front of the grocery store to pay for your questionable food shopping. You attempted to make small talk with the young 17-year-old pottering about behind the counter, but it wasn’t returned and you marked it up to being wary of newcomers. “Thank you. Have a nice night.” You thanked lifting the plastic bag off of the counter and began the journey home.

“I am so fucking stupid,” You half yelled, and half sang into the silence of your entry hall. “How is that the first thing I say to someone.” You continued tossing your keys on the smallish storage cabinet to your left knowing the Jadu would tease you with the knowledge for eras to some. Muttering to yourself and wandered back into your barely lived-in kitchen and slammed the nondescript shopping bag on the counter and began making one of the pot noodles and tossing the rest of them into the cupboard above your head.

Still feeling the heat of your embarrassment you deflated slightly and leaned against the counter. “Dude how tall are you?” You question yourself again with a hint of disbelief even though you were sure that the guy's hands could easily cover your face. Robotically, you grabbed the kettle and began making your pot noodle, you‘d barely gotten the fork in your mouth when a soft knocking sounded against your front door. “Who in the hell.” You muttered skittering towards your front door leaving the pot noodle on the counter, the small strip of frosted glass on either side of your front door did little to give you an idea of who was standing on the porch.

Pulling open the door, you stood in your socks searching an empty porch for who' knocked on your door. Already you thought the neighbourhood’s kids were playing tricks on you. Moving to step on to the porch almost kicking into something warm and injuring yourself. You glanced down at the warmth on your toes, a Tupperware container sat close to your front door you were surprised that you hadn’t put her foot in it when she stepped out the door. “Um hello?” you greeted the container sceptically as she crouched down to collect it. “Thank you f-for the soup?” You thanked and questioned the container as you curiously tilted the container from side to side watching the soupy liquid inside move with your movements.

As you stepped back into your house you wondered if whatever was in the container would keep till tomorrow. Heading back into the kitchen you placed the container on the counter and unfolded the piece of paper taped to the side of it.

‘Hi, I live across the street and since you’re new here. And I guessed your fridge was probably empty, so I made a little extra broth and packed it up for you. Don’t worry it’ll keep till tomorrow just put it on the stove on medium heat for 20 minutes or in the microwave for the same. Welcome to the neighbourhood - Omera’ The note read, and you smiled at the kindness of Omera, a woman you’d yet to put a face to, while stuffing another fork full of pot noodle into your mouth, you tucked the note back into its original place and stored the container of broth away in her empty fridge.

You released a huff as you tried to make yourself taller to reach the bathroom windows handle, the steam from your most recent shower was so dense that it just didn’t want to dissipate and with a tight grip on the counter, you doubled your efforts and finally got the window open. With pride in your step, you wandered into your new bedroom with your toothbrush hanging out of your mouth as a familiar ring tone pierced the quiet of your bedroom. Without looking, you answered the phone and set it on loudspeaker, “Hello, you're on loudspeaker.” You garbled out as you rinsed your mouth out and placed your toothbrush by the sink. “Do you know how many times I’ve called you!” Your mom yelled through the phone and you visibly cringed at the sharpness in your mother’s tone, the woman was a force to be reckoned with when she wanted to be. “Anything could have happened. Are you sure the neighbourhood’s safe enough?” Your mother rattled on worrying about you even though you were in your 30’s with a stable income and living alone.

Smiling at the sentiment you grabbed your phone and climbed into the bed. “I’m fine Mom. The neighbourhood seems safe enough. I mean aren’t the estate agents legally obligated to tell me if it wasn’t.” You muttered as you settled crossed legged at the head of the bed, the weirdly comfortably headboard cushioned your back as you leaned back into it and the pillows to get comfortable. “What’ve I missed first? Is Dad still looking for work?” You asked as you placed the phone on the pillow next to you, warmth filled you as you silently listened to your mom explain how another nameless auntie had a baby, another cousin getting engaged and how your step-dad, Lanth; a man who’d worked the majority of his life, still refuse to take his retirement and you didn’t think he’d ever actually take it at this point.

“You know how Lanth is. Honestly, I’m starting to think I married a 20-year-old in an old man’s body.” Your mom explained you smiled at the warmth you heard in your mom's voice and when you’d originally met Lanth you’d been sceptical as every teenager was of their parent's new boyfriends or girlfriends. “But enough about us. What about you? Hm. How’s the new house?” Your mom asked, sounding as eager as you had when you’d originally agreed to drive out to meet the estate agent and view the house.

Reaching behind you to prop up the pillows a little and pull the clean sheets over yourself, you sighed a little, feeling a wave of tiredness trying to overtake your body. “Nevarro’s housing market hasn’t inflated like the rest of the states but honestly I’ve been waiting for someone to tell me that it's haunted or in a bad neighbourhood.” You stated relishing in the soft fresh scent of your sheets in comparison to the musty old smell the other ones had. Your mom's voice was muffled on the other side of the phone as if she was talking to someone or left the TV on a little too loud. “The pastel bedroom walls make me want to throw something...but what are you whispering about?” You questioned yawning halfway through the sentence as you slowly began to settle down for the night.

On the other end of the phone, your mom sighed heavily, and it was the tell-tale sign that usually came before news that you wasn’t going to like. “Lanth said there's a Mandalorian settlement out that way and that you might want to be careful.” Your mom explained, concerned and a little off as if she was relaying what was being said to her. You hummed in agreement; you knew not all of Lanth’s people were the same, but they were best approached with caution just in case. “Anyway, I’ll let you go. Goodnight. Love you baby.”

“Goodnight. Love you both.” You smiled into your pillow as you heard the baritone of Lanth through the phone telling her to sleep well and to be careful. You watched the screen blink a few times telling you that your mom had hung up the phone, sleep tugged at you as you pulled the sheets up under your chin and glanced around the bedroom one final time to centre yourself. “I still have to get a door.” You muttered staring at the dark abyss of the hallway before rolling over and trying to ignore the unsettling inky darkness but with the bedside lamp on you slowly began to drift off into a slight sleep.

#The Handyman #handyman!paz #blue writes #paz vizsla #paz vizla #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizla x reader

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staticscreenwriting · 5 years ago

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Until we say goodbye || two

Warning! This multipart story takes place after the events of season 3. There’s huge spoilers already in the synopsis down below. I warned you.

Synopsis: (Y/N) Hargrove has to come to terms with the fact that her twin brother is dead and she had to watch him die, unable to do anything about it. There is something she can do for him now though and that’s keeping a promise. The promise to go back home to California. Together. In order to drive cross country and spread Billy’s ashes in a place where the Hargrove kids used to be happy, (Y/N) enlists the help of Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington who decides that it’s time to break out from his parents expectations and be the person he always wanted to be.

This time on “Until we say goodbye”: The teens stay at a quirky motel. Steve talks to mama Harrington and (Y/N) give us a look into her childhood.

(caution: mention of death, emotional abuse, slight mention of physical abuse, mention of alcohol // if you need me to tag any other possible triggers let me know)

One //

Part 2 of ?

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

Help a girl out with a reblog, thank you ♥

And if we hit on troubled water

I’ll be the one to keep you warm and safe

And we’ll be carrying each other

Until we say goodbye on our dying day

A cool breeze is blowing past (Y/N) as she sits on edge of the old abandoned lifeguard tower, feet dangling in the air. She’s well aware of the fact that the wind is making a mess of her hair, leaving it a tangled mess. She doesn’t really give a shit though.

The beach is practically deserted except for her and the couple strolling by the shore, throwing sticks for their puppy every once in a while. They seem so happy, as if nothing matters but them and their dog and the ocean.

Her thoughts wander towards Pumpkin, the little Jack Russell puppy they adopted a few years ago when dad was dating this woman named Laura. Laura loved dogs and dad loved Laura and so when she moved in, so did Pumpkin.

(Y/N) loved that stupid dog, hell even Billy did. But like all good things in the Hargrove’s life, this one didn’t last very long either. Dad messed up his relationship with Laura and Laura was smart enough to get the fuck out and take Pumpkin with her.

The thumping of boots against the wooden planks of the lifeguard tower, pulls (Y/N) back from her trip down memory lane.

Billy plops down next to her, fumbling a cigarette from the pocket of his denim jacket and lighting it. He’s started smoking a few months ago, just after the twins 13th birthday. Dad was really mad when he found that first cigarette hole in the carpet of their room.

“ Why are you here ? ‘s about to storm “ Billy mumbles around the cigarette dangling from the corner of his lips.

“ Dad’s being as asshole “

“ As per usual “ Billy scoffs, “ what happened ? “

“ He found out that I pierced my ears, said I look like a slut. “

The words still sting even now that she repeats them to her brother. (Y/N) doesn’t think it’s something a father should say, especially to his daughter. It’s just earrings, what’s the big deal ?

It doesn’t make her a slut. Right ?

“ What the fuck does he know. He still lives in 1971 with his ugly ass mustache“ Billy jokes, effectively getting a laugh from his twin sister.

“ You know what the worst part is ? “ (Y/N) asks.

“ Hmm ? “

“ I think my ears might be infected. They burn like hell. “

“ Ya know what ? That’s your own damn fault. I told you using Galliano liqueur was not the best way to sanitize the needle. “

(Y/N) chuckles, nodding her head in agreement. “ Yeah, you were right, I admit it “.

“ Good. “

She turns to look at her brother. His hair is growing longer now, the curls sitting messily on his head reminding her of crashing waves during a thunderstorm.

Dad hates that Billy is growing his hair and and (Y/N) is fairly sure that’s part of the reason why Billy likes his hair so much. Everything that pisses off their dad is a good think in Billy’s book.

“ Still think you should’ve let me pierce one of your ears. Would’ve looked damn cool. “ she says, teasing smirk playing on her lips.

Billy shakes his head, curls bouncing from the motion. He’s mirroring her smirk though.

“ No fucking way. Never. “

(Y/N) finger plays with the tiny silver spike dangling from her ear as her eyes focus on the scenery passing by the window. There’s not a lot to see really, it’s almost pitch black outside. They’re on the road for about an hour and a half now but Steve keeps bringing up stopping.

He’s tired, (Y/N) can tell. Tired and still a bit freaked out by the whole situation.

“ So Terre Haute is coming up at I think we should see if we can find a place to stay the night, then stock up on food and gas tomorrow morning and drive through the entire day “.

Steve speaks up, more of a monologue than anything else. (Y/N) doesn’t mind how long the journey takes as long as they get to California in the end. She doesn’t mind stopping for the night. Doesn’t mind the occasional food or toilet breaks. Leaving Hawkins behind already feels liberating.

Every mile they put between themselves and that fucking town feels like a weight lifted off her shoulder.

“ Alright, sounds good to me. We gotta find a cheap place though, I don’t have a lot of cash with me “.

“ S’alright I got it “ Steve exclaims.

“ I don’t need your charity, Harrington, “ (Y/N) snaps at him. Maybe it’s a Hargrove thing, being bad at accepting help from other people. From basically strangers.

For the biggest part of her life, (Y/N) only had Billy to depend on. Now that he’s gone it feels absolutely terrifying putting her trust in someone else.

“ Sorry I — that’s not what I meant. “

“ No, “ (Y/N) sighs “ I’m sorry for snapping. I know what you meant. It’s okay. “

There’s a thick awkward tension filling the car and (Y/N) absolutely hates it.

“ Can I turn on the radio ? “ she asks motioning towards it.

Steve nods in agreement. “ There should still be a mixtape in the player. “

With the push of a button the opening chords to Mötley Crües ‘Shout at the devil’ echo through the vehicle, making (Y/N) raise her eyebrows in surprise.

“ Steve Harrington, I did not expect you to listen to this kind of music “.

Steve just shrugs “ why not ? I like all kinds of music. “

“ Steve Harrington, Hawkins’ golden boy listening to the Devil’s music. That’s a surprise. “

“ Golden boy, “ Steve scoffs “ yeah right. I just about graduated High School. I didn’t get into college. I work at a video store and my own dad thinks I’m goddamn loser. “

“ You wanna talk about shitty dads ? Cause let me tell you, I’ll win that one. “

It’s quiet for a moment, before Steve clears his throat and speaks up again.

“ Can I ask you something ? “

“ Mmh “

“ What did they tell your dad happened ? Did they — did they really tell him that whole fire bullshit ? “

“ Yup. “

“ And he believed it ? “

(Y/N) nods. “ He did. He has no reason not to “.

The fire story. Authorities told Neil and elaborate story about how Billy died in a tragic accident in the big fire at Starcourt mall. Something about wrong place wrong time.

(Y/N) was there when they told him. Susan was crying hysterically. Max was — numb. Neil though. Neil didn’t even flinch. There was no sign of emotion. No sign of grieve. Nothing. Nothing at all.

“ I don’t think he gives a shit either, to be honest. “

“ That’s horrible. “ Steve exclaims.

“ That’s my dad for ya. “

Steve’s BMW rolls up to the parking lot of the Cardinal Inn Motel. It’s a small Motel complex and it looks like it’s seen better days. The walls are a dirty white, almost gray color and all doors are painted a bright red although most of the paint is chipping off.

The kids enter the motel lobby, a small room decked out in all kinds of kitschy decor. There’s cross stitch art and paintings and decorative throw pillows. And all if it proudly features various images of a red cardinal bird.

“ Welcome to the Cardinal Inn Motel. “ a chipper voice speaks up from behind the reception desk. “ I’m Ruth, how can I help ya ? “

Ruth is a plump little woman with a kind smile, round cheeks and extremely curly ginger hair. She looks more like a caricature than an actual person. Though (Y/N) thinks she fits this place perfectly.

“ We would like twooo — ? “ Steve trails off and glances towards (Y/N) in question.

“ One “

“ — one room. With two beds though “.

“ Oh sure sure. Let me see. It’s 32 $ for a night. “ Ruth says and opens a book, probably looking up which rooms are occupied and which rooms are free. She walks towards a board holding a lot of keys and takes one of handing it to Steve.

“ This is your room key, It’s number 44. When you step outside, the room is located in the building to your right. It’s on the first floor, first door once you walk up the stairs. I would have to ask for a down payment though. Just in case. “

Steve hastily pulls out a bundle of cash from his jeans, counting the right amount and handing it to Ruth. “ That’s the entire amount, we’re only staying for one night “.

“ Very well then. I hope you have a pleasant stay at the Cardinal Inn. “ Ruth chirps almost like a bird herself.

“ Thanks “ Steve says and walks towards the door.

(Y/N) stays rooted though, eyes wandering around the room from one red bird to the next to the next.

“ Hey Ruth, “ she chimes up.

“ Yes, dear ? “

“ What’s with the birds ? “

“ Oh the cardinal ? That’s Indiana’s state bird. “

“ They’re funky looking little guys, huh ? “

“ Truly. They’re also very interesting. If you want to learn about them, they’re an informational brochure in every room. “

(Y/N) gives Ruth a soft smile then rushes after Steve, out into the chilly night air.

“ Knight Rider, really Harrington ? “

Steve sits up from his slumped position on the bed as (Y/N) comes back from the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed in her pyjamas. A choice of pyjamas she thoroughly regrets now as the cool air inside the motel room hits the skin of her legs.

She’s dressed in a pair of short red pj pants and one of Billy’s old band shirts. One she’s stolen from his closet after — the incident. It smells like him. Makes her feel like he’s still there.

“ What, It’s good. “

“ It’s so stupid. It’s a talking car. “

“ Okay, whatever. You keep on hating but I tell you this show is gonna last forever and it’s gonna win all the awards. Trust me. “

“ Mmmh. Sure. Shower’s yours. “

Steve gathers some of his stuff from his duffle bag and moves towards the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

As she is left alone in the room, the gravity of it all comes crashing down on (Y/N). This is it. That trip she wanted to go on with Billy. That trip they had fantasized about since the moment they left California.

Now it’s happening but it doesn’t feel right. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. With Billy in a thermos. With Billy — dead.

The room suddenly feels too small. Like the walls are gonna close in on her any second now. She needs air. Fresh air. Needs to get out of here. Now. Now.

So she does.

Slips on her shoes and the room key and dashes out through the door and into the night. It’s cold. Way too cold for the amount of clothing she’s wearing or not wearing depending on how you see it.

For a while all she does is walk up and down the road, wishing she had remembered to take her pack of smokes with her.

When it gets too cold though, she spots a neon sign in one of the windows of the Lobby building. “Souvenirs”.

She wonders if all of those souvenirs have red birds on them.

They don’t. Most of them do, but not all of them. A lot of them display what she can only assume are important buildings of the city of Terre Haute, Indiana.

(Y/N) remembers the few trips she used to take with her mom and Billy, when they were just little kids. Mom loved to take them to the little quirky little towns across the coast and the kids loved exploring them. Billy always got a postcard, from every single place. (Y/N) got keychains. She still has a box of them stuffed beneath her bed at home.

Her eyes wander around the room before they fall onto a display of all kinds of different postcards. Most of them, as expected, have birds on them. Though there’s one that doesn’t. It says “Terre Haute” in big bold letters. It reminds her of the ones Billy used to get from those coastal towns.

Greetings from … the few happy childhood memories she can remember.

(Y/N) takes the card over towards the reception, where Ruth greets her with another of her signature Ruth smiles. Kind and warm.

“ Hi, dear. “

“ Hi uh — I want to buy this postcard. I can’t find a price though, ah shit I left my money up in the room let me just — “

Before she can hurry towards her room though, Ruth stops her.

“ It’s okay, Darling. You can have it for free. “

“ Oh no, I — “

“ Please. You asked about the birds that pretty much the most anyone has cared about this place in a while. Take it. I want you to have it. “

It’s kinda sad, (Y/N) thinks. That her just asking about those silly birds made Ruth this happy. That people pay so little attention to her adorably little bird room.

“ Thank you, Ruth. That is very sweet of you. And this place is adorable. “

“ Thank you, dear. Do you need a stamp for that ? “

(Y/N) sighs “ No. No I don’t. “

The Bean is a little diner at the edge of town looking out onto the Wabash River. It’s emitting a perpetual smell of coffee and waffles and breakfast food.

Steve is munching down an entire plate of eggs and bacon. Oh to have the metabolism of a teenage boy.

(Y/N) takes another sip of her black coffee, hoping that the caffeine is gonna help keep her awake and not get too tired during their drive. After all they plan on being on the road for the entire day.

The pancakes on her plate are long forgotten. She hasn’t really been feeling like eating since it all happened. It’s like she’s acting on power saving mode. Always tired. Always sad. Always working on half speed.

“ You should eat something. You need it. “ Steve remarks.

“ Are you flirting with me ? ”

“ I uh — what ? “

“ Male cardinals feed females as part of their courtship ritual. A female’s partner bears total responsibility for satisfying her dietary needs. “

“ How do you know this ? “

(Y/N) smiles and takes another sip of coffee “ my friend Ruth recommended me some interesting reading material “.

She doesn’t mention that the nightmares didn’t allow her much sleep and that she spent most of the night staying up reading the informational magazine. There’s things Steve just doesn’t need to know.

“ Alriiiight. “ Steve exclaims, eyebrows raised “ Hey, what’s that. You gonna send a card home ? “ he asks and motions towards the postcard she’d been scribbling on while he had been ordering their food.

“ Nah. Not really. This one’s for someone else “.

“ Alright … hey uh. I think I should call my parents “

She looks up from her cup at Steve’s words. This can’t be happening. She can’t go back home now. He can’t bail on her.

“ Harrington “

“ Don’t look at me like that, I’m not turning around and crawling back home. I just don’t want my mom to worry. I need her to know I’m safe. “

That’s right, Steve has a mom too, not just an asshole dad. A mom who cared and who worries and who loves. God it’s been so long since (Y/N) had one of those.

“ Okay, yeah. But um — can you not mention my name. I don’t want any news to get to my dad. “

“ Of course. Yeah, no worries.“

“ Thanks “.

Despite what Billy always said about him, Steve seems to be an alright guy after all. His hair’s ridiculous though.

It rings once, twice, three times before someone picks up.

“ Hello ? “

“ Mom, it’s me. “

“ Oh god Steve. Honey where are you I’m worried sick “.

That sends a little pang to his heart. His mother is a nice lady, she loves him deeply and she doesn’t deserve for him to worry her like that. But this is something Steve has to do, if not for (Y/N) then for himself.

“ I’m alright mom. I’m taking a friend on a — uh a roadtrip. “

“ A roadtrip ?”

“ Yea. To uh — “ his mind wanders to Billy. “ We’re going to help her brother “.

“ Okay, well are you alright ? “

No. He hasn’t been alright in a long time. Since 1983 to be completely honest.

Maybe this trip is just what he needs. A way out. An escape.

Steve leans his head against the payphone, taking a deep breath.

“ I don’t know, mom. But I’m safe and I need to just — just get away. “

“ Is this because of what happened with the Holland girl ? Or the mall ?“

Yes. All of it. If only she knew.

“ It’s just a lot lately. Can you just trust me in this, mom. That I’m doing what’s best for me ? “

His mother hesitates for a moment before clearing her throat.

“ Of course I do, sweet boy. But I am a mom and I do worry. I always will. “

It warms his heart. To know someone does care and someone does love him, no matter how much he messes up.

“ I know. I love you and I’ll be back soon. I promise. I just need to do this, for me.“

“ Be safe, Steve “

“ I will. “

Before he hangs up he can just about make out his father’s voice in the background, asking if “that’s him” and “what’s he messed up this time ? “

And it once again becomes crystal clear why getting on the road with (Y/N) is the best decision he’s made in a long time.

He walks back over to her, as she leans against his car chewing some bright pink bubble gum.

“ You ready to head out ? “

“ Yup. Your parents mad ? “

“ No. Surprisingly not. Mom just wants me to be safe. “

“ Aw little Stevie. How adorable. Anyway let’s go. “

As they both settle back in their seats, Steve slides the signature dark shades back onto his nose and turns towards (Y/N).

“ Sooo, snacks ? “

“ Snacks “ she nods and throws him one of her signature smirks “ definitely need some twizzlers to survive this trip “.

“ Happy Birthday to me “ a freshly 9 year old (Y/N) mumbles as she buries her feet in the warm sand. It’s almost time for the sun to set behind the horizon and color the sky in beautiful shades of reds and pinks and oranges.

For the last 8 years this has been a moment she has shared with her mom. Every birthday the two of them would come down to the beach and watch the sunset. Just them two.

Billy had the morning to spend alone with mom, going to the beach to catch some waves, and (Y/N) got to have the evening.

They’d sit and talk for hours and hours and hours. About everything. The silliest things.

This year she hasn’t so much as called. As if neither (Y/N) nor Billy ever existed in her life.

Billy’s been grumpy all day, refusing to spend time with his sister and deciding to go hang out with some of those stupid boys from the neighbourhood that always call (Y/N) dumb names.

(Y/N) watches the sun lower itself as if to drown the light in the dark water of the ocean, when a little plastic bag lands next to her. Just a moment later Billy drops down onto the ground too.

“ Got you some candy. Twizzlers, your favorite “

“ Did you steal them ? “

“ No, dingus. I bought them with my own money. “

“ Good. Means I don’t have to feel guilty when eating them. “

It’s silent for a moment as they sit beside each other, watching the sunset.

“ Hey I’m sorry “ Billy whispers, as if speaking any louder would mean destroying the magic of the moment.

“ It’s okay. You’re sad. I’m sad too. “

“ I’m not sad “ he claims “ I’m angry. So angry. “

“ You can be sad and angry at the same time. They’re not mutually exclusive. “

“ Stop using big words. “

“ Sorry. “

Billy takes a big breath “ I’ve decide “ he exclaims “ that from this moment on I’ll missing her. If she doesn’t want to come home, doesn’t want to see us. Screw her. I don’t need her and neither do you. “

(Y/N) knows that’s absolute bullshit but she also knows that Billy has a certain way of coping with loss and sadness and maybe she doesn’t share his ways or understand them fully but she can respect them if it means he’s less angry and less sad.

“ Okay. “

“ We don’t need her because we have each other “ he says, placing his hand on hers “ right ? “

In that moment, little (Y/N) knows that whatever the world is gonna throw her way, it’s only half as bad with her twin brother by her side.

“ Of course. Always “

If only they had known how terribly short ‘always’ would turn out to be.

_________

tags:

@sargent-barnes //

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic

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sleazygoing · 5 years ago

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CHARACTER SHEET repost. do not reblog.

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

FULL NAME. vernon f. kennedy. NICKNAME. uncle v, VFK, various aliases and fake names. GENDER. cis male. HEIGHT. 5′9′’-ish. AGE. 43. ZODIAC. pisces. SPOKEN LANGUAGES. english, mexican spanish, a little ASL, a few handy tourist phrases in japanese such as “sorry, i am american,” and “excuse me. is there a good bathroom here to do coke in?”

𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

HAIR COLOR. brown. a few grays in his facial hair though. EYE COLOR. greenish-brownish. probably. he makes it hard to tell. SKIN TONE. guy’s got a pretty great tan everywhere except under the speedo. BODY TYPE. honestly, vernon is built just the pink panther, if the pink panther had a little spare tire of pudge. he’s not tall but he’s long, lean with a little muscle, but he’s huskier around the gut than he used to be. certified dad-bod. ACCENT. very, very american, and purposely hard to put a finger on beyond that. VOICE. he says everything just a little too fast or a little too slow. and he’s loud, not in terms of noise level, but just the amount that he talks at times. he’s got shit to say. DOMINANT HAND. he’s a leftie. POSTURE. great, but sometimes he’s fidgety in an annoying, lazy kind of way, and habitually slightly too relaxed. SCARS. nothing major. TATTOOS. JFK $1,000000 bill chest piece, three dot triangle on the back of his right hand, prison upper half-sleeves (think barbed wire, ex’s names, flames and lucky dice and bad ‘tribal’ patterns) ‘loyalty’ belly tat, badly mistranslated chinese tramp stamp, traditional-style cobra and a pin-up on his calves, playboy logo on his ass. MOST NOTICEABLE FEATURE(S). well-kept funky sideburns, several gold teeth (lower left side), fun designer sunglasses that rarely come off, bad ink, killer chest hair, 'ostentatious’ dress sense.

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 !

PLACE OF BIRTH. not telling. HOMETOWN. he doesn’t reckon he has one. SIBLINGS. we’ll go with none. none that he knows of. PARENTAL INVOLVEMENT. yeah, no, it’s a nuanced situation. he didn’t even tell his mom when he went to prison. he sends her money, though.

𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 !

OCCUPATION. career criminal, con-artist, part-time cocaine dealer in denial, and the world’s worst manager/amateur attorney. CURRENT RESIDENCE. he lives mostly on his own, bouncing between his swanky pink shag-pad and hotel rooms he’s not paying for. CLOSE FRIENDS. vfk has a very loose definition of ‘friend’. if you haven’t tried to kill him yet, you’re his friend. some people that have tried to kill him count too. RELATIONSHIP STATUS. depends who’s asking, but he’s down for whatever. FINANCIAL STATUS. filthy rich, baby. emphasis on the filthy part. DRIVER’S LICENSE. you betcha. he’s a surprisingly competent driver. his car is his baby. CRIMINAL RECORD. served 8.5 years of a 10 year sentence for several counts involving conspiracy to traffic cocaine. it’s hard to rebuild things after catching a felony and serving that long, but turns out that it’s very, very easy to skip town and start again as somebody else. vernon kennedy’s record is squeaky clean. VICES. enough cocaine to get a small country wired, cocktails with dirty names, and shopping.

𝐬𝐞𝐱 & 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 !

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. bisexual, mostly dates women. PREFERRED SEXUAL ROLE. vers top. a little submissive for the right person. LIBIDO. pretty average. used to be a real horndog, but he’s mellowed out somewhat. TURN ON’S. milfs/cougars/g-milfs, cowboys, scorpios, material wealth, being bossed around, softcore femdom stuff, handcuffs, a nice romantic back rub. TURN OFF’S. fragile macho masculinity, commitment... also he could never date someone who is rude to waiters and stuff. it costs $0 to be nice! LOVE LANGUAGE. terms of endearments, lots of pillow talk, and (sometimes sleazy) compliments. he’s a touchy-feely, cuddly kinda guy too and never shy about letting his better half/s know it. RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES. i’ll give you a clue: he has been divorced four times. sometimes it takes weeks, sometimes years, but vernon has a terrible tendency to ride a relationship ‘til the wheels fall off and his partner throws in the towel. things just don’t work out unless he’s living a lie or with someone on totally the same wavelength as him, chill, with no expectation of commitment or stability. at best, he’s a fun regular lay with a kitschy romantic streak. at worst he’s reckless, dishonest, and just not fun any more.

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 !

CHARACTER’S THEME SONG. margaritaville. HOBBIES TO PASS TIME. mini-golf, nature documentaries, cocaine, fashion magazines, ‘me time’, eating good, chill philosophy, ethically dubious money-making schemes, having a drink or two, various felonies, hanging out at strip joints and casinos. he’s a busy guy. MENTAL ILLNESSES. n/a. PHYSICAL ILLNESSES. beyond losing his sense of smell, he’s healthy as a horse for a guy who can get through a gram of coke without noticing. LEFT OR RIGHT BRAINED. no brain. PHOBIAS. n/a. SELF CONFIDENCE LEVEL. great. he’s sure of himself, but not cocky. he feels good, he feels sexy, and he doesn’t believe in taking yourself too seriously. VULNERABILITIES. he’s greedy and living a very elaborate mess of lies that could collapse like a house of cards on an airplane tray-table during turbulence.

TAGGED BY. @hammurabicomplex, thank you so much! <3 TAGGING. @evieenpointe, @butvic, @viollens, @lepuscor, @mcneyhoney, if you’d like, and anyone else who is down please have at it!

#; FACT.#i love these mfs #bless uppppp!!!

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oftripps · 6 years ago

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“ –– wow. ” it’s not so much a critique as it is a g-rated expletive. tripp forces a smile mid-chew and blinks. “ my tastebuds are screaming. gah–– uh, singing. singing. ” he avoids swallowing and as ring-decorated fingers snag a napkin, wide eyes drifting to the tabletop as a small jingle breezes past tensed lips. “ ~ allergic to mushrooms ~ ”

or, alternatively: this is somethin’ new! the caspar slide pt. 2 !! & this time, it’s ‘bout to get funky !! so i’m linc and this is tripp and he’s........ a trip, honestly, so let’s just... yeet on into this ––

( joe keery + 22 + muse 12 ) isn’t that phillip joel “tripp” goodman over there? i heard he joined faction: one after they got back to west ham. it’s funny, ‘cause they were only on the service trip because HIS BANDMATES DUPED HIM INTO THINKING THE SIGN-UP WAS FOR A WOODS-THEMED OPEN MIC GIG. hopefully they fit in there – they’re JAUNTY but also OUTRÉ. oh, i’m sure they’ll be fine.

out the door ! ( tripp goodman: a roadmap )

look up townie family in the dictionary and you’ll find a portrait of the goodmans directly beside. these folks have a looooong flippin’ legacy here in lil’ ole west ham, kansas. it all started with montgomery goodman, a good man, who helped west ham’s founders break ground on this midwestern charmer several centuries ago. and now, the goodmans still live on the same property –– a refurbished farmhouse ( now closer to mcmansion ) surrounded by five acres of roooooollin’ hills. once upon a time, they were farming folk. now, theresa and joel goodman run the town’s one and only veterinary clinic.

honestly, growing up? tripp was a problematic kid. he’d take in frogs from the woods and start his own frog hotels. he’d sneak pets from the clinic to school who “ needed help learning their numbers ”. in class, he’d flick sunflower seeds at the backs of his peers’ heads and, when threatened with discipline, claim he simply “ wanted to see if they’d grow ” . so no, to answer your question–– tripp never really saw the real wrath warranted by his rulebreaking.

in fourth grade, he chose the saxophone as his required instrument. he caused such a commotion in his house, that his parents asked his teachers to suggest something quieter. the viola. the flute. the clarinet. the piano. instruments came and went,;instruments were quickly mastered and abandoned. because dear lord, how many times could they listen to the spongebob theme song played on woodwind ?! on strings ?! once middle school rolled around, little phillip joel knew his way around a whopping total of six instruments, a tally that would only grow in the coming years. eventually, his parents caved and allowed him to keep playing, so long as he respected instrument curfews. they gave song requests to avoid hearing the same pieces on repeat: the goodman household was probably the only one blessed with an oboe-and-beatbox rendition of under the sea. young phillip joel’s take on the issue was simple: not all heroes wore capes.

( tw: domestic unrest, mentions of violence ) theresa and joel split when tripp was 9. just seven months later, tripp’s mother moved in with her girlfriend: tripp’s guitar teacher, ms. lillith. tripp didn’t mind ms. lillith. she was chill. he came to find out she could knock back a chocolate milk almost as fast as he could, and she liked her grilled cheeses with swiss only. his best friend became a thirty-six year old woman who happened to be his mother’s girlfriend. and that was fine. he could dig it. but joel goodman? oh no. his family name was tarnished. the scandal was too much to bear. joel sued for full custody and nearly made it, thanks to hometown politics and loyalties. but then he made one fatal mistake: he crossed his own son.

at 10 years old, fifth grade phillip joel returned home to his father’s after school with three fingernails painted effervescent blue. sidney frasier made me so cool, he gushed as he put his colored nails on proud display. dad, aren’t i so cool? the next day, his dad enrolled him in the town’s peewee football program. he returned home from his first practice with a black eye and a split lip. from a ball, the coach insisted. hit the poor fella square in the face, real strong. phillip joel put up a fight against football; it wasn’t for him. it conflicted with music practice. couldn’t he just play music with ms. lillith instead?

the custody battle persisted. they settled on a parenting schedule. joel contested, consistently, months later. and so the cycle persisted up until phillip joel’s 12th year, when he was knocked out cold on the football field. the broken ribs came from hefty tackles. bruises from the fall. concussion from the impact. but theresa spun it to her advantage: joel had since started coaching the middle school team. this was an instance of parental neglect. and, when the courts didn’t comply, she instructed her son to jump down the stairs. one broken ankle later, and joel goodman was accused of child abuse. his word against his injured son’s. the maneuver won theresa full custody. phillip joel has yet to forgive himself.

after the custody battle’s conclusion, joel stayed in town: but phillip joel didn’t want a thing to do with sharing his name. his mother still scolds him as phillip joel, but to everyone else, he became tripp –– inspired by his knack for, you guessed it!, tumbling over his own two feet.

in high school, tripp was the class clown. always smirking, always grinning, always ready to catch someone off guard. he became a pivotal part of west ham high’s jazz band, and even formed a small group with a few buds: face. they played some school events: homecoming, pep rallies, prom. garage-baked young rock, their songs often preached meetings under bleachers and high school never ending.

in senior year, the band saw a reboot: and after assuming a more indie, spacey sound and a nifty new name –– 1757. –– they saw a rise in local celebrity. coffee shops commissioned them for jam nights. they played on the local radio. so they collectively decided to stick around and see how far they could ride this west ham fame train. with tripp as their frontman, they always leave a memorable impression: he’s not exactly the most run-of-the-mill performer.

1757.’s sound is reminiscent of LANY: i’ve reblogged a few tunes onto tripp’s blog for reference. he’s v much a paul klein / matty healy vibe. big into music. big into losing himself in it.

so what was he up to before the service trip? playin’ tunes. working part-time as a waiter. and brainstorming ways to get out of going on this trip, as soon as he realized his stupid bandmates lied about the form he signed. an open mic in the woods ! pah ! he should have known. but the concept sounded pretty flippin’ cool.

wear our shades on our nose, 'cause we're cool like that ( tripp goodman: the man, the myth, the ledge )

oh god, he’s w e i r d . he believes in goblins and ghosts and aliens ( oh my )!

still VERY VERY close with his mother. v broken up about not being able to get through to her, because it was about to be his parents’ wedding anniversary and they were going to anti-celebrate it with big slices of oreo cheesecake and setting things on fire.

how he feels about coming home to west ham: post apocalyptic version.

uhhhh... can he please get a waffle? specifically a cinnamon raisin waffle with extra cinnamon and a shit ton of syrup? actually. syrup with a side of waffles?

why he was banned from his personal twitter.

“ do you even lift, bruv? ” * proceeds to pick up a teacup & lift his pinkie like a true knock-off british monarch, shitty accent included *

listens to wham! and glam rock. unironically.bluetooth speaker mounted on his bike. no helmet! like an absolute boss. he knows!! wild!! shades on. it’s 2am. it’s dark. but true swag obeys no clock.

catch him biking everywhere stranger things style, actually. his bike’s name is milo because he can roll on for miles. mess with milo and he’ll fuck u up. aka find out if you’re lactose intolerant and slip heavy cream into your meal.

has a strong vendetta against blue doritos. which might take root in some horrific experiences involving cheez wiz, cool ranch, weed, and the new york subway system at 4am on a tuesday. spring break freshman year of college. oof.

he has a lil drawwwwl. tease him about it. he’ll probably blush.

stress-hums chili’s babyback ribs without realizing. catch him singin’ that about to be murdered.

weapon of choice: kindness.

actual weapon of choice: baseball bat.

he will write little jingles to keep morale up. “ so we’re trapped / cash us inside / how bou’ dat ? ”

has a passion for introspective literary quotes. but... has somehow managed to learn each and every one wrong.

friggin’ loves superheroes even though he can’t be bothered to watch the films? he just… always used to get made fun of for liking comic books even though he never read them? “ arachnid man is uh... heh. he’s pretty dope, huh? ” he embraces the falsehood. someone call him on it.

9/10 times if he’s in the gym, it’s just to eat his donut and watch pay-per-view movies on the bike for free.

apple pie can absolutely be breakfast if you try hard enough. jeez. get with the times, man!

he had a legitimate pet rock before going on this service trip. but has no idea where that bugger’s gone. probably got fed up with tripp serenading him with “ we will rock you ” at all hours of the night.

lawful good. will wave other drivers on forever.

got into an accident on his bike once. bitch broke his arm and he just kept on smiling. “ no you have a nice day! and uh.... hey. mind if we like... call an ambulance? ”

low key feels like he’s the reason his parents’ marriage crumbled. low key guilty about it. low key wonders if maybe he lived up to his father’s expectations, he might have saved them a lot of grief.

give benny goodman by saint motel a listen and tell me that’s not his soul in audio form.

known for slightly hyperbolic storytelling.

pansexual as heck. falls in love. hard. it’s a mess. he can’t hide it. hence the shades.

he has brilliant hair. and it’s immortalized in his high school yearbook.

is hellbent on being a source of positivity in this terrible situation. can he interest you in a meme in these trying times? how ‘bout a granola bar? maybe a good ole game of mash?

he’s convinced this is an elaborate prank. or a social experiment. maybe aliens. but let’s not question it too much, let’s just.... have a good time? hakuna matata? no worries? lol where the twizzlers at?!

leaves a voicemail for his mother every morning and every night. maybe he cries. maybe.

he has one ear pierced because like.......... senior year of high school, he wanted to feel more cool.

allergic to mushrooms, shellfish, eggs, and harbingers of doom.

he truly boggles minds. just.... v out there? v spacey. he closes his eyes and drifts about on stage, fingers dancing on the keys, body moving in eclectic ways. he says “groovy” and fuckin’ means it. he dresses in prints inspired by grandma’s carpet. lots of half-buttoned flowy shirts, boots, tailored statement pants, dangly necklaces. he’s got his hands full of rings –– they symbolize milestones. and some are just, like... pretty. and one’s his mother’s old wedding band.

where the hell are my friends ! ( wanted connectz. )

i was gonna do a whole section on this and got lazy but like.... anything. all the things. good, bad, ugly, beautiful. hurt him. make him suffer. but also support him a bit.

i imagine he’s got a solid squad goin’. he’s in faction one too, so... hmu for those.

i feel like he’d be pretty chill with the greeks? yeah bro, he parties. he’ll chill. he’ll crack open a cold one and pretend to understand what those letters on your jacket mean! pie-apple-fate-uh? cool stuff !

ride or dies. pls.

he needs someone to like....... melt his heart. maybe someone unexpected.

thisssss got long & disorganized but yes! let’s plot! let’s do this thang! #hype!!

#apogeeintro #✰ mother trucker dude; that hurt like a buttcheek on a stick ! isms.#if u cannot tell...... he is a gay ass MEME

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