#someone sit me down and make me finish 1 (one) whole story just to say i did jfc

[infiniteseriesofhalfways]

good lord, i just read some shit i wrote back in October, and it fucking hurts, like-

He doesn't hate his father. He loves him like an ant loves a magnifying glass, like ex-smokers love a new pack, like holding your hand to a fire and begging for once, for it to only warm and not burn. His father is a force beyond his control, a god who forgot the verses on mercy. On forgiveness. He doesn't pray to anyone, not since they stopped going to church. But at night he lies awake, pleading with the universe, allow his father to see the truth. His mother is a good woman. He has done his best to be a good son. They have given their entire lives to him, sacrificed nearly every bit of their own desires to try and make him happy. If, someday, his father should wake up and see all of it, maybe then he would start believing in god again. Until then, he can't see anyone looking out for him. He can't find any father in the stars who actually loves him back.

why did i say any of that at all??? could've kept every bit of that to myself.

When CA turns away from him, his heart aches. He wants so badly to reach over, to hold CA until everything bad that has ever happened to him comes tumbling out. He wants to let CA spill his secrets and leave them here in the sand, buried beside forgotten beer bottles and toy shovels. It's in the rise and fall of his chest, faster and faster as he spirals. He can't imagine where CA's thoughts have gone, what fucked up memory he's gotten lost in. He considers his own past, good experiences tainted by the way they ended. He could tell the story, be the first of them to cut himself open tonight. A bloody invitation for CA to do the same. Not a demand. Not a requirement. An open palm and a promise under moonlight.

like idk who i was thinking i was but i have in fact depressed the shit out of myself three months later

[landosjpg]

risk | ln

lando norris x teammate!reader

the one where you find your crush with someone else.

word count: ~1.0k

warnings: just a little bit of angst with happy ending

note: based on this request. i haven’t written anything longer than 500 words in so long so bare with me please, i hope this is good enough :) reader is a driver but it doesn’t play a big role on the story/is only mentioned like once or twice!

you felt anxious, the nerves eating you alive as you lied in the darkness of your hotel room. you knew it was normal, in only a few hours you would be on your way to your first ever home race as a formula 1 driver.

but you also needed sleep, and as hard as you tried, nothing seemed to put your mind at ease, your mind just going back to making up every possible scenario of what would happen as you stepped in the car the very next day. the good, and also the bad.

after hours of tossing and turning around in bed, you desperately sighed: there was only one thing that could help you relax. someone.

cozied up in your pajamas you silently made your way out of your room and walked down the corridor to lando’s room. you knew he was, most likely, still awake despite of the late hour, well aware of his bad sleeping habits.

while most people thought your relationship was merely professional, during the previous months lando and you had grown extremely close to each other. too close, some would say.

countless nights, you had spent hours in each other’s rooms, trying your best not to wake up the whole building with your laughter. and most of those nights had finished with your limbs tangled with his under the thin blankets, whispered conversations and lingering touches lulling you to sleep.

you weren’t sure where your relationship really stood; every time you took a step forward, it seemed like you went back another three the next morning, the few moments of intimacy quickly forgotten as soon as the sun came up.

but he was the only person around who could make you forget about all your worries in just a few minutes, so you knocked on his door, hoping to not wake anyone up.

you heard his voice on the other side of the wall, but you couldn’t quite understand his words. only a few seconds later, the door swung open, a dishevelled lando standing before you.

“hey,” he greeted you in a whisper.

“hey,” you repeated, trying to catch on the undertone of his voice. normally, he would had pulled you inside already.

“i wasn’t expecting you to come.”

“i…” you started explaining, your words cut off by a figure walking out of the bathroom. your eyes widened and you took a step back. “oh my god, sorry. i didn’t know you were… i’m just gonna…” you said, slowly walking back.

you heard lando sigh and close the door as you made your way to your room again, your chest tightening at the realization. You had completely misunderstood your relationship with him, and now you felt stupid.

you crawled under your sheets with a heavy heart, and as much as you tried to think about something else, the image wouldn’t leave your mind.

the soft knock on your door only a few minutes later startled you and still with a blanket wrapped around your body, you made your way to open.

what you hadn’t expected was to find lando in front of you again, leaning against the doorframe.

“can I come in?” he straight up asked, his eyes analyzing your form.

“I thought you were…”

“she just left,” he cut you off, rising his eyebrow as if to ask you again to let him in. you stepped aside, inviting him inside and closing the door behind him.

“i’m really sorry, i didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” your voice was almost a whispered, embarrassed every time the scene played in your mind again.

“you didn’t,” he said, taking a sit on the edge of your bed. “you’ve been crying?”

no,” you quickly lied, shyly drying your cheeks with the back of your hand.

“your eyes are red,” he tried to ignore your gesture, but curiosity got the best of him.

“i’m just tired and can’t fall asleep,” you weren’t fully lying.

“mind if i..?” he mumbled, leaning back on the mattress.

He didn’t have to finish his sentence; you already knew what words followed: mind if i stay the night?

And normally, you would have giggled and told him that he didn’t even have to ask, but this time it felt different.

“i don’t think your girlfriend would like that,” you said before you could even think about your words.

an amused chuckled left his lips, “is that jealousy i hear?”

your cheeks heated up at his question, embarrassment growing inside you. and you couldn’t answer, too scared to mess up again.

“we didn’t do anything,” he explained, a softness in his eyes as he looked at you. “realized I would rather spend my time with someone else.”

your heart skipped a beat at the implications behind his words, silence falling hard between the two of you.

“really?” you finally managed to quietly ask.

he patted the spot next to him on the mattress, silently asking you to join him, “you’re that oblivious, huh?” he chuckled.

slowly, you made your way closer to him, his hands reaching for your body as soon as you were at arm’s length; his hands were hooked at your hips and he pulled you into him, standing in between his legs.

he looked up at you, a sly smile spread on his lips when your hands rested on his shoulders.

“you’re not just saying that, are you?” you questioned again, not completely sure of if he was just playing with you.

“don’t be silly,” he shook his head. “i’m actually crazy about you.”

your fingers found home in his curls, softly running a hand through his hair as your gaze met his, “what does this mean for us then?” your voice came out in a nervous whisper.

“i don’t know,” he answered in the same low tone. “but i’d really love to kiss you right now.”

your breath hitched at the statement, and you only could give him a slight nod of your head before he closed the gap between your lips, freeing you from all the worries that had been tormenting you for hours.

[xxxdegenerate]

Drunken in Love // Zoro x Reader PT. 1

❥note ;; IDK WHY im in a zoro frenzy rn.

❥summary/tw ;; You happen to wake up one night unable to sleep. Deciding to go get a drink, but finding Zoro already beat you too it. The two of you talk over a shared bottle and realize you have more in common then you think. // Cursing, proofread

You stirred in your bed. That awfully felt uncomfortable asfuck. You sit up and groan. “Why is everything so uncomfortable!”

The crew had just gotten out of a big fight so you figured you sleep like a baby tonight. But you were wrong!

“Maybe a drink will help.” You sigh and pull up your sleepwear. Jumping out of bed and making way towards the kitchen. The air was cool, enough to make you shiver.

You reach the kitchen and open the door. Quietly enough to not make any noise to attract others.

You close the door as look towards the pantry. The light was on? Was Sanji awake already?

“Sanji?” You called out quietly as you walked over.

“I hope to hell that damn cook isn’t here.” Your head snaps and you see Zoro with a bottle of alcohol already.

“Zoro- You scared the shit out of me. When did you get here?” Although you’ve been in the straw hats for over a year. You weren’t really close with Zoro. Never having time to yourselves to hangout; besides the parties you’ve only really ever talked to him during battles. And maybe a few side conversations or hellos as you passed by.

“I’ve been here the whole time.” He brings the bottle to his lips and takes a swig.

“Is there anymore of that?” You pointed to the bottle before turning and looking through the cupboards and fridge.

“No, it’s the last one.”

“You drank it all?” You walked over towards him and sat in front of him. “Share.”

“Hell no.” He eyed you down as he took another sip.

“Come onnnn.” He sighs and holds the bottle out to you.

“Just a small sip! We have a couple days before we reach any land.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh lighten up Zoro! Let’s enjoy this tonight.”

You take a drink and smile brightly at him. He scoffs at you. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“You won’t!”

The two of you drank for a bit and share a few laughs.

“Now this is what I needed.” You slur.

“Tell me about it.” Zoro chuckles. He takes another sip. “Why did you join the crew?”

“Hmm.. we’ll I had my reasons. Much like everyone else did.” You grab the bottle and pour some in a separate cup. Swirling it around and thinking about how you came to join the Straw hats. “Didn’t have anywhere to go really. Till Luffy found me and gave me hope.” You frowned for a second before sitting up straight and leaning over the table towards Zoro.

“What about you?” You smile brightly and he looks at you. You were close to his face.

“Humpf, cuz I wanted too.”

“Boringgg!” You wave a hand in front of his face and sit back down.

“Says you! W-well.”

“Are you saying my story was boring!” You tease and fake a frown.

“No! I am not.” He points at you accusingly.

“I think you are.” He rolls his eyes. “I joined because I want to be the greatest swordsman. I made a promise to someone.” He takes a swig and you look at him. He was being serious.

“I respect that.” You said and hold out your glass to him. “To your promise?”

You clang glasses together and take a shot together. “You know you aren’t so bad.” You let out a gasp after taking the drink.

“You aren’t so bad yourself.” He smiles putting the bottle down and crossing his arms, closing his eyes.

“Thank you.” You looked at him and began to notice his features. His sharp jaw and curved lips. “Huh.” You said out loud by mistake.

“Hm?”

“Nothing, you wanna go for a walk?”

“Right now? We haven’t finished our-“ Before he could finish you grab his hand and pull him along.

Just before he was pulled away totally he grabs hold of the bottle.

“Hey! I can walk on my own!”

“Then hurry up slow poke.” You giggle, your hand holding his. Without realizing you continue to walk in front of him. Zoro said nothing and even gripped your hand tighter.

He stared at your connected hands and a blushed dusted his cheeks. “Where are we going anyway?”

You pointed up. “The nest, no one’s up there right. Since it was your turn.”

“I kind of need my hand to get up there.”

“Huh?” You look and finally notice the two of your hands connected. “Oh shi-“ You drop his hand much too his dismay. “I didn’t realize, being a bit tipsy and all.” Laughing your embarrassment off.

The two of you make it up and you plop down letting out a sigh of relief. “This is nice.” The cool air, the moon shining amongst the stars.

Zoro sat next to you and looked up. “It is always nice to be on night watch, only when it’s a peaceful night.

“I should take nights more.”

“Yeah.”

The two of you looked up for a bit.

“Hey Zoro.” You look at him, he’s already looking at you. You didn’t realize how close the two of you were.

You scoot back with an apology and he looks back up. Maybe to hide his red cheeks. Hoping that the moon was doing justice and not making it noticeable.

“Yeah?”

“I always wondered if you hated me.”

“Why would I?”

You laugh. “It’s silly.”

“I’m all for silly.”

The two of you look at each other once more. “We just never talk, but I’ve talked to everyone else. I thought maybe you didn’t like me.”

“Me? I thought you avoided me because I was scary.” The two of you laugh.

“You aren’t that scary, you’re just a big guy who looks a bit tough, but that smile proves otherwise.”

Zoro gulped. His smile? You liked his smile.

“I could say the same to you.”

“What me being a big tough man?” Giggling you take the bottle and take another drink.

“Your smile.”

You choke on the drink and cause some of it to drip out of your mouth.

“Hey don’t waste it!” He pulls the bottle from your hand and you look at him.

“My smile?”

“Yeah.” He always loved how you smiled. When you were with Luffy messing around or just talking among the crew. The way your eyes lit up and your lips curled with even the simplest jokes.

“You’re crazy.” You laugh once more and he looks at you.

“You’ve made such a mess.” He brings a hand to your jaw and wipes below your lips with his thumb. You blink owlishly at the sudden change in his tone.

“Wasting all the alcohol I hid.” His thumb caressed your bottom lip, wiping the remaining rum off before pulling his thumb to his mouth and licking it.

Your cheeks light up. “Zoro!”

“Ah sorry.” Your jaw drops and you feel embarrassed.

“In all honesty, I wanted to talk to you sooner.” He admitted. “It proved harder then expected with you being so caught up with everyone else.” He took another drink and you sat there looking at him.

The silence was loud. “I didn’t know.” You felt the same. You didn’t know how to tell him. You didn’t know how to tell him you’ve been watching him and wanting to talk to him.

You gulped and open your mouth to say something when he suddenly blabbers.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you more then anything.”

He was suddenly closer then ever. His lips danced against yours and you better your eyes closed. He tasted just like the rum you two shared.

His tongue licked your lips, and you gladly let your mouth fall open for him.

His tongue explores and tastes the remaining rum that lasted on your tongue.

He parts from you and rests his forehead on yours. The two of you breathe hard. “I-“

“I didnt mean too-“

“I liked it.” You said, but you were in shock. Would you remember this in the morning?” Zoro smiled at you before laying back on the makeshift bed.

You hold a hand on your heart and try to calm down. Your heart was going crazy. “Zoro?” You leaned over him to get a good look at his face, to find he’s sleeping peacefully.

Small snores are heard from him as you sat there for a bit longer.

In the end you decided to take the empty bottle and throw it away and go back to your room, not before covering him up and taking one last look at him.

You needed to clear your head.

[bestedoesmeow]

⋆Barmen Charles leclerc x Younger reader⋆

inspired by the summer I had few years ago. Still thankful for the experience, and joy you brought to my life even though we are not really in good terms right now :)

'' One summer your whole system of understanding love changes due to some monegasque barmen that you meet on a holiday that you thought to be just like others.''⋆

PART 1 ( click on the title to listen to the song while reading the story!!)

'' I am just gonna go and get a bottle of water from the bar. Why am I making such a big deal out of it?" You are talking to yourself, while your hands are shaking with the excitement you feel and your blood is rushing crazily through your cheeks. It's hot—unbelievably, amazingly, and almost unbearably hot for someone to even try to walk. But there you are, walking in a rush in your swimsuit and sunglasses, with flushed red cheeks and shaky hands because of the image you have of him in your mind. You are afraid that you are going to forget how to talk when you see him—his pretty green eyes, showy smile showing off his dimples, the almost invisible freckles he has on his nose due to the humidity and salt. Is he 24? Maybe 20? You don't know anything, probably you don't even care though—all you care about is how he makes you feel whenever you see him standing at that bar, preparing drinks for people and sending that shy yet confident smile at the same time whenever someone says "thank you" or "you look handsome." Old ladies, their daughters, and even some gentlemen—everyone there is in awe of how handsome and charming he is. It would be a pity if you weren't. You don't know if you feel jealous that he has too many options or feel happy that you are not alone, with everyone adoring him. While wishfully thinking, you realize you are almost standing in front of the bar, with the sounds of the harsh sea in your ears and some people sitting on the chairs behind you after getting out of the sea to grab something to eat. Lunch? Probably.

"What can I get you?" His French accent echoes in your ears, leaving you even weaker and more vulnerable to any attack. He smiles at you—those dimples, those damn dimples. Those smiling eyes and his welcoming gesture—almost too welcoming that you start to think about telling him everything. Right there, just right there.

"Can I get a bottle of water? It's getting even hotter and I just can't stan—" You stop, wondering why you just couldn't get the water and go. Did you really have to?

"Oh, it's unbelievably hot today," he says. "I can't tell you how many t-shirts I've changed into. It's freaking hot," he adds. You feel the sweat drops on your back flow down by the time he stops speaking. Thanks, thanks for not leaving me there cringing hard at myself. Thanks for talking back about the fucking weather and making it seem like a big issue.

"Why don't you take a seat? I'll make you a Martini. Pink? That'll cool you off for sure."

You try to comprehend the moment, his voice, his offer. You look around to see if he has anyone other than you to talk to, but it seems like you are alone.

"You aren't underage, are you?" he says this time. It is the fourth time he has spoken, but there is something in your throat that controls you, and you just can't come up with words. You take a seat, and your bikini drips some water.

"I am wet, like, so much that I probably shouldn't sit, so I'll only get the water, thank y—"

He cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence, as if he is just as excited to talk with you. At least you wish he is.

"Oh, come on, do you think people who come here to drink are all suited up? Don't worry, I'll take care of it after. Martini?" His French accent is even more visible now, and he is raising an eyebrow at you. Is he being flirty or just being nice? Or is he always like this?

"Yeah, okay," you say, trying not to sound so unsure, excited, or like a teenager who has a crush on an older guy who seems like a Greek god or a prince?

He nods and looks into your eyes before acting to prepare your drink, while you pick at the sides of your nails.

"What is your name?" he asks suddenly, and you are not expecting it. It's too much for you to handle, and your heart is almost about to stop with all the affection from the guy. You are determined not to show it, though.

"Oh, it's Y/N."

"That's a nice name. Mine is Charles, nothing special, you know," he says while pouring your drink with almost shaky hands. Is he okay? Or too shy? Or are they forcing him to make connections with people?

"I love your name. I mean, I love the name 'Charles,' sounds magical, maybe?" His lips are curled into a wide smile, while little sweat drops are determined to fall from his forehead.

"You think so?"

"Yes, it's a great name. You should realize it too," you say this time before taking a sip from the Martini he just prepared for you—with his own, freaking beautiful hands.

"How old are you, huh?" he says. He leans his body on the counter, and his gaze is focused on yours. His green eyes wander around your face while you try not to turn your head around because the connection is too much more than you can handle.

"Nineteen."

"That's a nice age. I am 24, and I feel like I am already too old to do lots of things," he says. Finally, he cuts the eye contact to clean some glasses left behind by the people who just thanked him for the delicious drinks.

"Well, that's wrong. You look much younger, though, if it helps," you say. Did you really say that? You can't believe you can just sit there and talk to him—the guy you've been drooling over for almost three days maybe? Is this what magic feels like? Or am I in a dream?

"Thanks, amour. That's so nice of you to say. How long are you planning to stay here? In France?"

"We are leaving this weekend." And I am also leaving you here, with all of my beautiful feelings and all of my dreams.

"That's bad. Have I served your family before? How long have you been staying here?"

"About a week, maybe? Yes, and you have. They like you, to be honest. Your vibe is all over the place."

SHUT UP. TELL HIM YOU LOVE HIM, HUH? STOP IT. HE'LL THINK YOU'RE DESPERATE.

"That's so nice to hear such a thing from someone like you. How come you never came to the bar?"

"I did, but it's always too crowded, you know? It's hard to find a place to sit."

"I know, I know," he says, and he turns his head to take another hotel customer's drink order. You take another sip from the Martini before wrapping your towel around your shoulders and pretending to get up from the chair.

"Thanks for the drink, Charles," you say, hoping he can hear you. You wouldn't take it personally if he couldn't, though.

"Nice meeting you, Y/N," he says, leaving the shaker there to say goodbye to you. He left his job to say goodbye to you? What is going on here? Can someone punch or pinch you?

He comes closer to you before handing you a napkin with some numbers written on it.

"Call me before you leave, so we can spend some time together. We can hit the downtown or go anywhere you'd like to see, huh?"

"Yes, of course."

He leaves you there with bouncy heart, sweaty palms, shaky legs, and body. His cologne follows you to your room, along with the dream of him.

[katuschka]

A Rollercoaster Ride with Tom&Jerry

Josh Kiszka x male OC (1st person narrative) 8.014 words

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere. Warnings: intense and confusing emotions; swear words; both verbal and physical fights; oral sex; anal sex (surprise, surprise, it's about two guys); toys; choking&gagging&some spanking; BDSM; ...so you see, it's not for everyone. This is basically a story about finding and re-establishing mutual trust. It involves conflict. Where there is a flame, someone's bound to get burned. So if you have any doubts that you're gonna be able to handle it, proceed with caution. Big thanks goes to: 1. @edgingthedarkness for making an illustrative short video (you're gonna find it inside the story below) that should make the whole experience even juicier! 2. all my beta-readers and cheerleaders, especially @writingcold, @edgingthedarkness, @its-interesting-van-kleep and @thewritingbeforesunrise. Cheers, guys.

I've got some things to say 'Cause there's a lot that you don't know It's written on my face It's gonna be hard to swallow (P!nk)

“You’re awfully quiet tonight. What’s going on?” 

I sighed. Yeah, no shit. There was actually so much I wanted to say to him ever since the show ended, I just couldn’t figure out how to do that without sounding like a jealous little girl. My mind was absolutely racing and when that happens, the connection between my brain and my mouth just gets cut off completely. It’s a serious condition, really. Commonly known as “sulking.” 

I often accompany him on tour, but I try to avoid live shows. I have my reasons. Hundreds of them. I agreed to be there for the last few concerts, which I now deeply regretted. 

It had been a really busy and eventful week; me, myself and I getting increasingly irritated – by everything, but mostly him – as the days went by, and tonight’s events felt like the last straw. Part of me wanted to be finally alone with him, and another part just wanted to be alone. So, as a result, I just tried to avoid him. I had kept to myself while watching him down his beer as the band enjoyed their aftershow high back in the green room. No one else seemed to pay attention to me, and for that I was glad. Now we were sitting in a car on our way back to the hotel room, and the confrontation that I’d tried to avoid seemed inevitable. 

As much as I pretended to be interested in the night scenery behind the window, it was impossible to ignore him any longer. Sadly, it was equally impossible to pretend that everything was ok and the idea that we could resolve it soon seemed pretty absurd. He was still in his stage outfit, bare chest in full display, absentmindedly scratching the skin right below his left nipple. Much to my dismay, he smelled divine, too. Warm and musky from the exertion, still with a faint hint of vanilla and cedar. AND he was obviously completely clueless. 

“You know Josh, you make it really hard sometimes...” 

Well, shit. I realized what I just did even before I finished the sentence. The instant smirk on his face told me that it was a really bad word choice and I regretted it immediately. I really wished that he would take it seriously this time. But he was still exhilarated and unnaturally restless, even to his standards. He literally couldn’t sit still, fidgeting in his seat, rapping his knuckles on a windowsill, giggling at nothing in particular…and I’d swear I even heard a moan when the car accidentally hit a curb. If I didn’t know him, I would say that he was high, but I knew he would never do that while performing. 

“Yeah, I often do, don’t I darling.” He turned to me and pouted playfully, his chin resting on his fist. “...but you’re never quiet when that happens, so why don’t you tell me what’s bugging you.” He was looking at me now, the lower lip between his teeth again, eyelids half closed. Cheeky bastard. 

What I really meant was – and he just proved my point again, by the way – that it was hard to keep the conversation serious when he was like that. And he was like that most of the fucking time. Everyone loved him for it, and that was the problem, because he just didn’t hesitate to love them all back. Not only was this his nature, but what is more, he was required to do that. A people pleaser, an entertainer…I was no longer pleased, nor entertained, though. 

I knew what I signed up for when we started seeing each other. Granted, I didn’t know who he was – or what he was – when we first met in that rally more than three years ago. He was just a beautiful boy with the eyes of a winking doll and a golden halo bouncing around his head. In a crowd of other nameless, faceless and anonymous people, he exuded blinding light. Am I too sentimental? If you were there, you’d surely understand. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. After staring at him for at least fifteen minutes, I dared to lift my camera up to take a picture just as the wind blew a few disheveled locks into his face. He immediately noticed. His brows furrowed and his eyes squinted at me, but they were warm and I could tell he was smiling behind his mask, even though apprehensively. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” “Why did you do that?” If I had thought that it couldn’t get any worse, I was sorely mistaken. The sultry voice that came from behind that black piece of cloth didn’t match his overall appearance. It made my dick twitch though, and I had to hear it again, so I decided to come clear about it, because he was already turning away again, not really interested in my answer. As if having his pictures taken was something that happened everyday. Yeah, as if. But…

Believe it or not, I just told him I thought he was beautiful. Right there on that street. I don’t normally do shit like that. To this day, I still don’t understand what got into me. It was blunt and impudent and no doubt a bit weird, and I expected him to tell me to fuck off. 

But instead, he blushed. “Well, you’re not so bad yourself.” 

I wasn’t sure if it was genuine or if he was just playing along. Or even mocking me. But I had to seize the opportunity by the hair. “I’m Tom.” What else to say, right?

“Josh.”

That’s it. That’s how Tom met Josh. We talked a lot that day. He was cute and funny and I just couldn’t get enough of that voice, which is never a good sign. You shouldn’t let yourself get addicted to people. It’s dangerous and he was very addictive. Later that day, when we left the crowd behind and he put the mask down to reveal his full, rosy lips, I should have run. But I didn’t. I let him use those lips to chain me to him just as they enveloped my dick.

Since then, there was not one single day when I wouldn’t think about that mouth. It only got worse when that sleepy pout became the first thing I saw almost every time I opened my eyes in the morning during that summer. Our relationship started as a strictly sexual one, not because we wanted it that way, but simply because arousal and excitement came first, and there was nothing else to do. We skipped dating and dived head first in the sheets. The world had slowed down, the future looked hazy, and we were just bored. OK, I admit, I was bored. His life wasn’t boring at all. Not even then. I got sucked into it pretty soon (pun absolutely intended). He made me fall for him before we even realized what was happening, and it was brutally intense. And it was also mutual. 

I soon learned what it really meant to be part of that world. Our secret summer of love ended and reality hit. I went completely offline, partly because I was not interested in being hunted down by hysterical chicks, but mostly because he didn’t want them to know. You know what I mean. I didn’t really care that much myself, but I also understood. 

If you’re into traveling, and if you ever followed @tomontheroad on Instagram and wondered why it just vanished one day, wonder no more. Yes, it was me. You probably didn’t even notice though, because in late 2020, it had already been dead for months anyway. 

That’s just how it was. To keep the life we shared safe, I became an invisible nobody, which made it almost impossible for me to do my job, but I somehow managed. Meanwhile, he was there in the spotlight, adored by thousands, making their pussies and dreams wet. I was never to be seen. I agreed to all that, gladly, even though it was gradually getting worse. They started touring again, and that was when I saw his full potential, wrapped in velvet. He was their Pied Piper, playing his flute just as he played his vocals. I still didn’t mind. It was all worth it. I thought it was, at least. As soon as we closed the doors behind us, a brand new universe opened before me. Behind the closed doors, I was a traveler again, a tireless explorer. Every inch and every curve of his body was a land full of miracles and pleasures. A wondrous landscape. Every valley, a new home for me. Every peak, a place that revealed brand new horizons. Who needed tropical white sands when his warm skin was the perfect place to lay your head, the sound of his heart more calming than the humming of sea waves. I simply loved him. 

I learned to live with the fact that I had a boyfriend that hundreds of people wanted to fuck, but it was me who actually did. They were mere voyeurs, standing outside the shopping window, ogling hungrily all the delicious desserts on display, which only I had the privilege to taste. I kept telling myself that I was the lucky one. 

And you know what? That’s complete and utter bullshit. I keep doing this to myself. Lying to myself. I hadn’t learned to live with it at all. Granted, we had these conversations before, and all of them ended with me telling him it was fine. Everything was fine. I spent nearly two fucking years trying to convince myself that I was completely ok with all of this and just this evening I realized how much it was really bothering me. 

Today he crossed the fucking line. The feeling that lurked somewhere in the back of my mind now reared its ugly head and I felt like I reached my limits. 

I said I was there for the show. I actually never really get to see it, because I myself can’t be seen. It had been months since I last watched their concert and this past week I just waited for him in the green room. But tonight he insisted that I be there. I finally agreed, even though it really meant just lurking by the side, under the stage level with the staff, watching what was going on onstage on the monitor with Steve who’s in charge of big screens. 

The camera loved him. And he loved it back, losing himself in the moment as he got high on the music they made. The audience was losing it too, screaming in frenzy because he made them feral. It all looked just like one big orgy. I had seen it many times before, that’s why I didn’t really want to be there, but I still couldn’t get my eyes off that screen. I was very familiar with all those faces he made. I had heard those moans before, I had watched him arch his back just like that before, the way he bit his lip, how his brows furrowed… I could tell he got bolder with it over time. I was mesmerized, but there was one big problem. The whole arena was watching this with me now, equally enchanted, but he was interacting with them and I felt unwelcome. I had seen some pictures, watched two or three shorts, but nothing could prepare me for this. 

He ran down the stage a few times that evening, waved at me the first time, blew me a kiss a moment later, but as the evening progressed, I suddenly felt like losing him. It was an unwelcome surge of panic and just when I thought I got it under control, he ran past me and the next thing I saw on the screen was him right at the barricade, letting himself be hugged and groped by all those random people. I had enough. I couldn’t breathe. I excused myself and ran to the green room to pour myself a generous amount of whiskey. 

Fast forward back to where we were, in the car on our way back to the hotel. “Not here,” I retorted. “Later.” The rest of the ride was tense. He kept looking sideways at me, I kept being extremely absorbed in examining the hem of my shirt. As soon as the door of our shared apartment closed behind us, he confronted me. 

“So, we’re here. Care to explain why you’ve been behaving like such an insufferable bitch tonight?”

“Oh that’s rich, Joshua. By all means feel free to make it aaaall about my behavior again. Nothing wrong with you acting like an insolent and inconsiderate slut!” 

“Inconsiderate…” He looked as if I just punched him. 

“Yes!” I hissed, “inconsiderate! You know, it’s funny how you find this worth reacting…but not the fact that I just called you a slut.”

He just laughed and shook his head in disbelief as he headed straight to the minibar to pour  himself a drink. “Well,” he trilled, “you didn’t shake the bitch allegations either, my love. At least I’m fun to be around.” 

I just huffed and went towards the balcony to open the glass door. I really needed some fresh air. “Yeah, I’m not amused. But you don’t seem to mind. You were having a really good time there, with their hideous, overlong nails scratching your tits. Or when you were moaning into the microphone, almost pretending that you were fucking them all.” With that, I collapsed on the couch. 

“So what do you want me to do to amuse you? You want me to fuck you? Let’s fuck in earnest, no pretending.  Will that make it better? Do you want me to show you what and who I’m REALLY thinking about when their nails scratch my skin?”

“No Josh, you fucking me wouldn’t really sort out anything I’m afraid, because right now I feel like you’re fucking with me all the fucking time. I want to claim you, because I love the way you’re looking at me when I’m deep inside you and when you have to bite your lower lip just to stop it from quivering, you know. Not only because I really, really love that sight, but also because only then I feel like I’m the only person on your radar. And that’s what I need now.”

He watched me avidly, with his head slightly tilted and his expression almost unreadable, except for the obvious arousal that was silently flowing through his whole body, and I swear you could see it glimmering behind his pupils. I definitely could see it in his tight pants. I would lie if I said that I wasn’t aroused. Truth be told, I needed to fuck him, badly. We could continue bitching about each other’s behavior later. For now, angry fuck would do…

He put his glass down and slowly took off his sun jacket, all without breaking eye contact. It was like watching him in slow motion, when he palmed his hardening dick through the white satin, squeezed it briefly and then stroked it gently a few times. He loved this. He was a born entertainer, always ready to please the audience. I couldn’t help but admire the fact that he knew exactly what he was doing. I was his audience now, and I had to admit to myself that this was a completely different show. 

“Ok, that’s convenient, because I’d really love you to finish what I started.” 

I had no clue what he was talking about and watched him – flabbergasted – as he turned around, pulled his pants down and bent over to unfasten the cuffs around his ankles. That’s when I saw it. A little sparkly gem between his buttcheeks. I recognised the tiny steel buttplug with a faceted stone immediately, even though we hadn’t used it much. I gave it to him for Christmas, and later he joked that it really fit the Starcatcher aesthetics, so maybe he should wear it with the rest of his jewelry, but I didn’t really expect him to actually do it!

“Josh…did you have it in for the whole show?” I tried to keep it cool, but the words only came out as a breathy whisper. He only chuckled and stretched like a cat to relieve his stiff muscles. He was still acting, completely naked now, exaggerating every move just to torture me. 

“No, darling. I wanted to, but they would have seen it under the jumpsuit. It’s quite tight, isn’t it. No, I put it in for es-tee-tee. Colors, gems and trim, darling. Now, let’s take a shower first. And close your mouth, or else I’ll fill it.” And with that he strutted into the bathroom without even waiting for me, shaking that tiny bejeweled ass just for the show. He knew that I would follow. He already had me in his grasp, metaphorically speaking. 

We often showered together. That was our personal habit, both at home or when I accompanied him on his travels. It was always our sweet moment of seclusion in his otherwise busy schedule. Very intimate, but not always blatantly sexual. Of course, sometimes it WAS blatantly sexual, but oftentimes we just talked a lot, kissed a lot, washed each other’s hair, just took care of each other. Just tracing my fingers down his spine was enough to help me forget about the gloomy world beyond our walls. Not to mention being inside his walls, but I digress…

I took my time. I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of following him like a pet dog, so I stripped slowly, took a few more sips of my drink and walked indolently into the bathroom. Just for the show. I expected him to wait for me by the counter, but he didn’t. He was already in the shower, steam already filling the room. I slid the glass door open and started. He was standing there, right under the stream, facing the door, his eyes boring into me. He was quite a sight, too. Not having bothered with the stage makeup, the streaks of smudged eyeliner were now running down his cheeks, over the remaining rhinestones. Wet hair already flattened and pulled back. This was intentional. He was still provoking me. 

We just observed each other warily before he broke the silence and asked me nonchalantly if I could just wash his back. I gestured to him to turn around and did as he asked. I poured the vanilla-scented body wash in my hands and soaped his body with it, just like I always did. And just like he always did, he started talking about the events of the day. Some tiktok video they filmed after the soundcheck that I didn’t care about. 

His tone was completely casual, in spite of the fact that I held his balls firmly in my hand, gently massaging them with my soap-covered hand. I let my other hand travel slowly down his left buttcheek towards that little surprise he had there for me previously. 

“So tell me, Josh. Why this?” 

I watched him smile at the question. His previous restlessness suddenly made perfect sense. The whole time I was sulking and worrying about us, about his behavior and his intentions, he was just getting himself off. I took the bejeweled plug in my fingers and twisted it gently. He arched his back and moaned softly. I just loved listening to him. His lovely mouth could elicit the most delicious high-pitched whimpers. So I did it again. This time, his head landed on my shoulder, exposing his neck to me. I let my nose brush against my favorite place right under his earlobe. This was dangerous territory. Everytime I let myself wander through the smooth valleys of his lithe body, I was close to losing my mind, and he knew it. He was narcotic. Normally, it just meant that earth-shattering sex would follow, but I needed to stay focused, because I had to resolve this first: “Fucking tell me, Josh,” I hissed.

“I…I like to keep myself perked up, my love. I can’t go onstage…oh, yes, thee-e-e-ere…I can’t go onstage drunk, or high…dammit…that would, aaah would be unprofessional, yeah?” He chuckled.  “So I just keep myself turned-on instead. It’s good for the show.”

“For the show, eh? You’re a liar.”

“No…no-ah, I’m not lying, dear. I keep myself turned on…and when I feel the rhythm in my bones and when I let the… the melody soar through my veins, I imagine your dick inside me. Or your fingers. Aaaall because they lo-oooh-love seeing me like that. So you see, it’s good for the show. They can feel it. Our love. Just…genuine…love. The feeling is omnipresent…and I want to share it.”

The insolence! “You see Josh, that’s the problem,” I whispered while my teeth grazed his jugular, “I don’t want to share it.”

With that, he turned around and kissed me gently, letting the tip of his tongue just brush against mine. With his left hand stroking the nape of my neck, his right palm slowly wandered down my torso, fingertips lightly grazing my left nipple, and further down, until he had me in his grasp, now literally speaking. I fell under his spell again, utterly and completely, and I no longer wanted to fight it. I had to remind myself that tonight was supposed to be my night, that I was supposed to be in control, but I was slowly losing it anyway. He sensed it, and generously put me back on track, while still jerking me off. 

“Honey, this is us. This is just us. I share the miracle, you see? That’s my job. But you don’t share me with anyone. You own me!” 

Oh yeah, that worked. His words felt like a detonator. Perhaps more than he had intended them to. I’m sure they were partly meant to soothe me, but something really snapped in me and all those pent-up emotions suddenly begged to be released. I lost all my remaining mental clarity and acted upon it without really thinking. I pushed him against the wall and firmly wrapped my hand around his throat. His head hit the tiles with a dull thud and even though my own actions took me by surprise and I saw a brief flicker of panic in his eyes, I couldn’t stop. I kept him pinned to the wall with my thigh pushing his legs apart. He belonged to me, and I needed him to understand it.

I’m not the world’s strongest man, but I’m bigger than him. Three inches taller, and I could overpower him without much difficulty. That’s why I had always been rather gentle with him, even though he’s a hotheaded bastard and always fights back like a mad chihuahua. Not this time. He just watched me with those doe-like eyes and his mouth slightly ajar, while his hands just rested on my chest. I barely felt the touch. He was a meek lamb, a rag doll, but his face told me a different story. I could see his previously bewildered expression transform into a defiant one. He tilted his chin up, nostrils flared. He was daring me, breathing heavily and waiting for my next move.  

“Damn right I do! Fuck, you’re mine,” I growled and tightened my grip on his neck, while my other hand kneaded his left buttock.  

He whimpered and I recognized the sound. I’d heard it many times before. Everytime I pounded into him with feral force, when I pulled his hair, or when I smacked his ass, because that was the only part of his body I ever dared to leave a mark on. 

“You like this, you little fucker.”

He closed his eyes, breathing raggedly through his nose. I could feel his semi spring up and twitch against my thigh. I could tell just by his fingertips now clawing at my chest that he really did. But I needed to hear it. 

“Answer me!” 

“Yeah,” he finally breathed out and our eyes met again. 

We were both very sensual people, but never overly violent with each other. It’s not that the idea never crossed my mind, because I really like rough fuck. Sue me. I’d had my fair share of “tough love” during the time spent with my previous lovers. Truth be told, he was often pushing my buttons, and it took all my willpower not to act. All smiles and sunshine on the outside, he could be an insufferable brat sometimes. I just always had to remind myself that I couldn’t leave a mark, even though his own nails frequently branded me with scratches. But that was it. It was part of the deal. I treated him like my pampered darling, even at times when I just had to shut him up with a gag… some occassional BD sans SM, that’s how we rolled. It just occurred to me that treating him like that might have been a mistake. I just had to make sure that he was really agreeing to this.

I let go of his neck and let my fingers travel up his jaw and into his wet hair, all without breaking eye contact. We were watching each other intently, trying to communicate without words, searching for clues. I cradled his head in my hands, my fingers massaging the back of his head. He leaned into the touch and closed his eyes. 

“Does it hurt?” 

He shook his head silently. I placed a trail of short kisses up his neck until I reached his earlobe and nibbled on it gently. I felt him pull me closer to him as he pressed his fingertips convulsively into the flesh on my hips until it almost hurt.

“Are you ok?” I whispered in his ear. He nodded and rubbed his nose against my cheek. A brief moment of tenderness was exactly what we both needed to reassess our position. Now it was the time to remind him of his role…

“Fine, on your knees!” I pushed him down, perhaps with not enough force, because it did not wipe that defiant look off his face, but I was well aware of the fact that he also still had that thing deep inside him. I was pumped, but not reckless. He was now kneeling right under the shower stream, small rivulets of water running down his face as he looked up at me, blinking. I had to take a deep breath not to cum just from the sight.  

“Open your mouth.”

…and he didn’t. Because he knew. That dastardly sneer of his is going to be the end of me one day, but I usually tolerate it. Not only because it’s hot as fuck, but also because it tells me he knows what I need. Or better yet, what he makes me need…and crave. I certainly hadn’t known that I needed my head to be treated like a lollypop until he taught me it was what I craved. Parting his lips ever so slightly, it just rested on them until he darted his tongue out into the slit, savoring every little drop of my precum. He had this habit of looking up at me when he was doing this, because he knew it was driving me crazy. 

So that’s what he was doing. Licking at my glans, watching me, daringly. I wasn’t having it. Enough of this game. I grabbed his head and buried my cock in the back of his throat. He gagged on it violently, darting his head backwards. I was still holding his head in both of my hands, though, and pushed him back, fucking his mouth in ferocious speed until he tapped on my thigh. Only then I released my grasp, watching him gasp for air. He looked up at me again, and whispered: “More.” 

And more he got. Oh god, that was so sexy, him literally begging me to choke him with my dick. I adjusted my pace, sliding in and out of those full, swollen lips. Grabbing my butt with both his hands, he urged me to go deeper, to fill him up, to obstruct his airway passage again. He tried to relax, letting my cock glide smoothly on his velvet tongue. I was getting close, dangerously close, but I wasn’t done with him yet. His mouth was perfect, but I needed more. 

Before I stopped, I grabbed him by the nape of his neck, pushed him down my shaft and held him there for a while, until I felt his throat contract and his body convulsed. Another gag, another gasp. I let go and tilted his chin up lightly with my index finger. The running water quickly washed away the thick strings of saliva and the tears, but he still looked a mess, exhausted and tamed. He was also very hard, his eyes not the only thing looking at me. He loved this. A wave of tenderness washed over me again. Damn, it was always like this with him. A real rollercoaster of feelings. 

“Come here, my filthy princess.” 

I grabbed him by the arms, pushed him up on his feet again and pulled him into a tight embrace. I felt his chest rise and fall against mine, deep breaths interspersed with intermittent, barely audible chuckles. 

“What’s so funny?” 

“Not funny, just…exhilarating.” 

My good boy. He deserved a reward. I bowed down and ran a few circles around his hardened nipple with the tip of my tongue, because he loved that. You might think I’m too soft, but this is what makes the experience really intense. I was still pissed, and full of adrenaline, but it was all because I loved him so much, and I needed him to feel it all. I ran my fingers down his spine, scratching his skin with my nails, perhaps more than necessary. But it was necessary. With the actual words still stuck in my throat, the touch was my language now. He looked at me again with a sweet smile, the tip of his tongue grazing his upper lip.

“So…now that it’s settled and I promise to be good, are you going to do that thing, darling?”

“That thing” meant me sucking his dick with my fingers knuckles deep in his ass. “Yeah, baby, you’ve earned it,” I stroked his cheek with my right hand while the left one traveled down right between his asscheeks...”let’s pull this out, then?” He nodded and turned around, resting his elbows against the tiles. It was my turn to get down on my knees. Yeah, I hear you, not very dominant of me, but you need to understand that this man has got the most fabulous ass I’ve ever seen, and I swear I’m gonna kiss and bite and spread and lick it any time I get the opportunity to do so. 

I put some shower gel on my fingers and circled them around the plug. “Try to relax.”

“I know,” he spat impatiently through his teeth. That earned him a smack on his right buttock. Brat. I pulled the plug out gently, eliciting a long, breathy and relieved moan from him. I massaged the opening a bit, washing the rest of the soap out, before I grabbed him with both hands to spread him a bit more for me. What a glorious view. I buried my face in it and darted my tongue out. 

“Oh god,” he breathed out as I licked into him. 

The flowing water was starting to get on my nerves so I turned it off before I turned him around to face me. It was now my turn to taste his leaking tip. A few swift cat licks made him clutch at my shoulders tight and he almost lost his balance when I swallowed him whole. I reached behind him and gently pushed my middle finger inside him while my head bobbed up and down his dick. I pushed my finger deeper, curled it towards me and set a steady rhythm of my movements. 

His breath suddenly quickened and I could feel him pulsate on my tongue. It was a matter of mere seconds. No. I stopped, retreated abruptly and stood up. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull and he was gaping at me in disbelief. I just smiled at him maliciously. He thought he could play with me, so let’s make this a shared experience. 

“What the hell?!?” My plan worked perfectly. He practically shouted it at me. He was furious. Cute. 

“I haven’t come yet, so what on earth made you think that I would let YOU, “ I smirked.

“Fuck you!” he pushed me aside forcefully and stormed out of the shower, heading back into the bedroom. Dripping wet, he slipped on the floor and almost fell, which gave me more time to react. 

I ran after him. “Hey, where the fuck are yo…ouch!” The fucker slammed the bathroom door right in my face. I threw it open again with force, triyng to catch him. He was just by the bed when I reached out for his hair and yanked him back, making his back collide with my chest. “Ouch, that hurt, you bastard!” he yelled as he tried to break free from my grasp, squirming, but he stood no chance. 

“Do you want me to stop?” I hissed in his ear. 

“No…” Good. I pushed him face down on the bed, grabbed his wrists and held them firmly behind his back. I needed him to stay that way, so I searched the ground for something I could use. My eyes spotted a bathrobe that I tossed over the armchair earlier that day. Perfect. “Don’t move!” I got off him for a while to get what I needed. He looked over his shoulder, watching me as I pulled the belt out of the loops. He didn’t move, lying face down by the edge of the bed, ass up. My obedient baby.

I grabbed his wrists again and showed him the belt, making it obvious what I was going to do. “You ok with this?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” 

I nodded, tied his wrists behind his back and went searching for the lube. “I’m going to fuck you now, and I’m not going to be gentle about it. If it becomes too much, or you just want me to stop, just say stop. Do you understand?

“Yes.” 

“Fine. Oh, here it is.” I squeezed a generous amount of the lube on my fingers and put two of them to his asshole, rubbing it in circles before I pushed them in slowly. He was already almost ready from before, but I needed him to relax a bit more. “Now listen, I will let you cum this time. No monkey business. But I want the same from you. If you wanna cum, you’re going to behave. You’re going to beg for it. Understand?” I added a third finger and he whimpered and bit his lip, huffing. I was getting impatient. “Do-you-under-stand!?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, “yes, I understand. Fuck me please. I’ll behave.”

I withdrew, slapped his butt, rubbed the remaining lube all over my cock, positioned myself and… pushed in. I had to focus all of my self-control on not pushing all the way in. He was so tight and warm and inviting, and I was all worked-up. The whole situation was a bit overwhelming, to be honest, but I just couldn’t get enough of it at the same time. His quick and shallow breaths told me that he felt pretty much the same. After several languid thrusts during which we both somehow managed to regain our composure and I quickened my pace. I grabbed his bound wrists in one hand and held his head down with the other. The room was filled with our synched moans and the slapping sound of our flesh colliding. I couldn’t get enough of him.

I grabbed his ass and slammed into him with full force. He cried out and begged me for more. His profile was absolutely entrancing, eyes squeezed shut and his mouth wide open, his melodic whines in sync with my thrusts. I needed to see more of it, so I unbound his wrists, pulled out and turned him over. 

I grabbed his ankles instead and forced his legs up, before I buried myself in him again. My heart was beating wildly. I felt the poisonous cocktail of all the previously suppressed and boiling emotions fill my veins as the pleasure overcame my senses. “Look at me!” He watched me, bewildered, while I rammed into him, sweaty and almost out of breath. Suddenly all I could hear were my own labored grunts, while he just stared at me, wide-eyed and speechless. 

“Cat got your tongue, hm? Always so…eloquent…with…them all…but not one…spare word…for your dirty little secret!” 

Adrenaline running in my veins, I continued pounding into him and almost missed the sudden shift in his mood and movements. 

“Tom…”

It was barely a whisper at first, but soon he became more and more agitated. “Tom…Tom, please. TOM! Hold on…stop…”

His face twisted in clear discomfort and his hands were clawing at my chest. I pulled out carefully. “What happened Josh? Did I hurt you?”

“No…no, m’fine. S’just a bit overwhelming, is all,” he mumbled. “Can you kiss me?”

I let his legs slide down my shoulders, leaned down and softly brushed my lips with his. I was confused, but also desperate to make this better, whatever it was. I stroked his cheek with my thumb and tried to make him look at me, but his eyes scanned the ceiling erratically and he blinked several times as he obviously tried to fight back the tears. But I could see that his eyes were already red. Now it was my turn to start panicking. Was he afraid of me? “Josh! Josh, honey, please, look at me. Are you hurt?” He shook his head and sobbed. Then his eyes finally met mine: “No, I’m alright. It’s just…please, don’t hate me Tom. I can’t stand you hating me. I was just trying to protect you.” 

The realization that hit him a minute ago now backfired back to me. And just like that my heart shattered into millions of microscopic pieces. I searched his face for more answers, those big, tearful eyes staring back at me. I stroked his hair tentatively. All the previous tension and anger dissolved and he was my sunshine boy again, but these were mere pale winter beams, and it was my fault, and the realization chilled me to my bones. He was weeping silently under me, obscured by my clouds. 

I moved slowly from between his legs and pulled him up into my embrace. He was reluctant at first, but slowly wrapped his arms around me. We just sat there for a while, cradling each other.  “I could never…,” I whispered against the damp skin right above his collarbone. “I’m just a terrible, jealous guy.”

“No, I made you jealous. I didn’t mean to, I didn’t realize…”

He couldn’t have. He’s the one who always lets his feelings pour out of him. I’ve always struggled with this. Not that I didn’t want to tell what was bothering me, I just couldn’t translate the whirlwind of my thoughts into coherent sentences. Just tell me what’s wrong, Tom. My previous lovers often lost patience with me. They always thought I didn’t want to talk and then our arguments ended with them giving up on me. Not him. He tried to make me laugh, he tried to make me yell, he tried to seduce me and he let me take all of him. I held him tight. I couldn’t let go. I was on the verge of tears, but it was him who needed comfort. I just hoped that I could give it to him. It was him who finally broke the silence. 

“Tom…” It was barely a whisper. 

“Yes?”

“I just hope you know I love you.” 

I finally loosened the embrace to look at him. My mouth was dry and my throat felt constricted, but I somehow managed to force out at least a weak “I do.” But that wasn’t enough. I knew I needed to say more: “…yes, baby, you’ve been telling me…I’m sorry,” I croaked. He took a deep breath and continued. 

“But hearing is not the same as feeling it…and,” he cleared his throat,”...and sometimes I need to feel it too. Sometimes it feels like you’re not even present. In your secret hiding place behind a thick wall and I just can’t get in!”

I buried my face in my hands. I needed a minute to process the evening’s events. “So, you seek it elsewhere?” I regretted those words almost instantly, but at least I finally forced myself to speak. 

“What do you mean? God, no!”

“No, not like that. I mean all those people, the plug. You didn’t really expl…” 

“I already told you! I wanted to share what we have.”

“By letting them touch you…”

“Cut it already!” He slapped the mattress, furious once again. “Yes, maybe you’re right…to a certain extent,” he spat out at me. “Yes, I let them touch me. I share a lot with people. It’s fulfilling and it feels natural. But it’s a different kind of love. And they understand. They didn’t grab at me, no one tried to pull me in. I share a lot with them but I don’t belong to them. But I agree with you that it's very personal. I thought about doing that for quite a while, but couldn’t find the courage to do so…unless I felt you there with me. I do miss you there. Sometimes I just miss you… anyway, about the plug…I guess today felt like a perfect day to try it. Please just tell me you understand, because I’m getting really sick of this.”

The plug was a gift from me, so yeah, I understood…kind of. Touch is important to him. But... “But why today?”

“Oh Tom,” he was tearful again. “Oh, fuck you. Really. It’s exactly three years since the day you first told me that you loved me.”

I just stared at him for a while, speechless. Then I finally lost it and started crying. “I’m a terrible person.” I felt like shit, I treated him like shit and really deserved to get a taste of my own medicine, in one way or another. But Josh is not like that. He doesn’t do that. And so it was now his turn to hug me, even though I tried to back away at first. But he’s stubborn, too. “You know, Tom, I felt it today. Among other things…”

“Forgive me.”

“Nothing to forgive. I understand.”

“No, you don’t... Listen Josh, I don’t need you to protect me. If anything, it should be the other way round. But I do need to feel like I belong in your life. I…I’m not sure I could continue like this.” 

Here, I finally said that. I had been afraid to utter those words aloud, because I knew they were dangerous. I expected another argument to follow, and maybe it would be the last one this time. But he only sighed and I felt him nod lightly against my shoulder. “I guess we need to make some inevitable changes then.”

I knew what he meant, but this was not just about me. And it was not just me who he’d been trying to protect. Himself, too, but also others in a way…

“Are you ready to make those changes?”

“I guess so…” 

We looked each other in the eye once more, trying to communicate the rest. At last I stood up and offered him my hand. “Come on, let me fix you a nice, hot bath.”

“No.” He took it but didn’t move. Instead, he tried to pull me back to bed. 

“No?” “No Tom, come back here, please. Make love to me.” 

He was sooo good at playing with my heartstrings. He really wanted me. He still trusted me. And from the look on his face, he needed me. I climbed back to him, took his face in my hands and kissed it. I traced my parted lips across his cheek and down to his jaw. He was like the oxygen I needed in order to stay alive and I was breathing him in. I continued upwards until our lips finally locked together. It was the first genuine kiss we shared that evening. 

How…?

“Spoon me.” As he lay down, I retrieved the previously discarded tube from the floor, lubed my fingers and cock once again and snuggled behind him. I didn’t rush it, and repeated the process once more that evening. I was nothing but tender this time, but he thought otherwise. He took my hand that was stroking his bare chest, placed it on his neck and tilted his head back. “Choke me.”

“Josh, I…you…” “Shhh, just do it. Please.” And I did. I wrapped my fingers around his throat and pulled him firmly back towards me. It wasn’t harsh. He let himself be completely vulnerable with me and I wanted to cherish it. I just rested my hand there, holding him firmly, but not with too much pressure. I could feel his pulse beating against my palm, every intake of breath. This was different than before. A moment of raw intimacy. He arched his back and reached behind to grab the back of my head. He knows I like that. I rewarded him with slow and deep thrusts, just how he loves it. He was moaning melodically to the rhythm, singing a secret song just for me now, and we rocked in tandem slowly, meeting each other halfway. Nothing else was necessary, this was everything. 

I took control again soon. Quickening my pace, I thrusted into him with a frantic urge. Goosebumps appeared all over his skin, which told me that he was very close. He always got shivers when he was approaching orgasm while I fucked him. Almost as if he was feverish. “Maddening ecstasy” – those were his words with which he once described it. I could feel him tense and tighten around me and rolled my hips once more to hit that perfect spot. “Oh my ggggnnnh Toooooohmmm….,” he let out a high pitched scream and came hard, his whole body convulsing. 

He was literally sobbing. I slowed my movements to a near stop and held his shivering body tight in my arms, waiting for his breathing to slow down. I was just about to pull out when he started moving again against me, urging me to continue, but I grabbed his hip and made him stop. He looked up at me, frowning. “What?” “Are you sure? It’s been a long night…” “No, Tom, don’t worry…come on, go on.”

I moved again tentatively, looking for any clue of his discomfort. He encouraged me again and I gradually resumed my pace. It didn’t take long. With a final groan, I buried my face in his hair, holding his now almost limp and exhausted body pressed to mine while I threshed about in an almost comical way, keeping him swaying in unison with me. We shifted a bit so that he was lying  on his belly now, me hovering above him. With the last few erratic thrusts I filled him up and we finally collapsed together into the pillows. 

We barely moved for at least another ten minutes, limbs still intertwined, eyes closed and our torsos literally glued together with sweat. Both of us simply wanted to prolong the moment, but I was slowly becoming aware of the world around us. We had left the glass door leading to the balcony open and the evening breeze finally pulled us back to reality. 

“Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“I think a few people might have overheard us.” “Uh huh…ok…good.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

Love sticks, sweat drips Break the lock if it don't fit A kick in the teeth is good for some A kiss with a fist is better than none (Florence and the Machine)

@writingcold @edgingthedarkness @its-interesting-van-kleep @thewritingbeforesunrise @lvnterninthenight @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @takenbythemadness @fleet-of-fiction

[i-am-a-l0st-gh0st]

We listen to a lotta true crime- Wrio x Gn!reader- Part 3

But it's alright, she'll be fine t/w- prison, Wriothesley flirts(?) with you, kissing (consent cause consent is sexy) summary-you've been wrongly accused of trying to murder your ex-husband and wriothesleys determined to get you out

Part 1, Part 2

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The kiss that had happened the previous day had felt like a dream. The way his lips were so soft and gentle. Wriothesley was just perfect. The whole night you sat there blushing and kicking your legs like a little girl, anyone who walked in would’ve guessed what happened.

The next day Wriothesley came to your room once again. “Y/n wake up.”

His voice was stern and his face wasn’t much different. He walked right in sitting down next to you on the bed. “The Knave contacted me, She heard you were in prison.”

Your family has supported the House of Hearth for many years and Arlecchino was like a mother to you when your parents died. You grew up and eventually backed the orphanage financially, which she was very grateful for. The news had reached her ears because of Lyney.

He was one of your closest friends and you too always stuck together. Makes sense he would worry.

“She sounded terribly worried and asked what would happen. I told her about our plan and she said she can help in any way.”

“That's great! We have someone on our side.”

“Oh and also your court hearing is in a week.”

“What?”

“For the appeal.”

“Ah yes.”

You too continued to talk and figure out how you could win the court over. Over about an hour you could fell Wriothesley moving closer and closer, till you ended up in his arms. It was nice and warm, can’t say it helped you think too much but it was nice. Your ex-husband had never shown you affection the way Wriothesley does to you.

A week later

(Look I honestly have no idea how court things work, I have tried to write one before, but that story never finished.)

You and Wriothesley walked into the courtroom, but only one of you was confident. You were sweating and was almost not breathing properly. Wrio noticed this and began to help you. “Hey y/n, look at me okay? Its gonna work. And if it doesn't you can come back down to the fortress with me.”

“Wriothesley, I have a life… I need to get back to it.”

“I see.”

The judge began to silence the room and started the proceedings. She called you to the stand to present your brief. You felt like so many eyes were watching and almost couldn’t take it. THis was something you had to do… If you wanted out that is.

You took the stand and began to speak.

“I had an unfair trial as I barely had one at all. My ex-husband framed me for attempted murder for what reason I don't know. I was out with some friends all day and had hardly seen him, the witnesses are here. When i got home the police were already at my house and my husband was one the floor covered in what seemed to be blood. The next thing i knew i was in prison and now i am here. There is no evidence that i even tried to murder my husband, no finger prints and no other forms of DNA. Thank you for your time.”

The judge seemed to think over your statement before inviting your husband to the stand. After the proceedings, it was time for a final verdict.

“The defending party is declared not guilty.”

You and Wriothesley in happiness. You had won, you were free. You weren’t a criminal. You felt a large pair of arms pull you in for a hug.

“You won…”

You hugged him back pulling him into a tighter embrace, how could you leave him behind?

After you had recovered from the shock of winning Wriothesley took you out to dinner.

“So whatcha gonna do now?”

“Go back to my normal life.”

Wriothesley seemed slightly hurt, he wasn’t really included in your normal live, as he lived underwater. He knew he couldn’t get too hurt because he’d only met you, what a week ago?

“I’m assuming I’m not included.

“Wrio.. I really like you, I'm just not quite sure how it would work.”

“May i have this last night with you?”

“You may.”

Taglist

@pandragonsoul, @atsukawolfcat, @milkwithspicyicecubes, @pookiebearcave. @c0smouche, @with3ringh3ights, @kitsunechan707, @kpopmenace143

[ninebluehearts]

I had an idea right after reading the single mom with Whiskey. What if the reader's daughter tests Whiskey at dinner, like makes sure he'd take care of her mom? I just think it would be so cute to see her so serious and Whiskey being a little nervous about it. Amazing writing on your part! Always leaves me wanting more! 💜💜💜

AHHHH, I WAS REALLY HOPING SOMEONE WOULD ASK ME TO ELABORATE ON THIS STORY OMG-

And thank you so much, my love!! I'm so glad you like it! 🥺💗

Part 1 part 3

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

Saturday came faster than you liked.

You finally got the courage to tell Madeline about Whiskey the night before the dinner, right after she'd finished her homework.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" You asked as she stuffed her last book back into her backpack.

Madeline squinted her eyes, looking at you with suspicion. "Yes?"

"It's nothing bad. Promise."

Madeline turned in her seat to face you, giving you her full attention.

You subconsciously began to pick at your fingernails. "So, umm, how would you feel if I told you I had a boyfriend?"

Madeline's eyebrows rose. "Like, a friend that's a boy?"

You shook your head, sweat beginning to bead on your forehead. You loved Whiskey, but you couldn't sacrifice your relationship with Madeline for him. If she didn't want you to bring him around, you wouldn't.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

Madeline furrowed her eyebrows together for a moment, trying to think of how she felt about this, you assumed. Not even a minute later, she looked up at you with a huge smirk on her face. "Eww, do you kiss him?"

You tilted your head to the side, a nervous smile tugging at your lips. "I- Sometimes? why?"

Madeline nodded as though she had made up her mind. "I want to meet him."

"Perfect. Because I said I would ask if you wanted to have dinner with us tomorrow."

"Okay! Just don't kiss him around me. That's gross."

"Madeline! Oh my god, go brush your teeth!" You said with a laugh, reaching over to ruffle her hair before going to wash the dishes.

"I'm just saying-"

"Teeth!"

And with that, Madeline raced towards the stairs, giggling the whole way up.

And now here you are, sitting at the dining room table with Whiskey and Madeline, both of them just staring at each other.

They shook hands and said hi when Whiskey first got there, but now neither of them had said a word to each other since. Even as they ate, both of them were just unusually quiet.

Though it wasn't long before Whiskey grunted, sitting up in his chair. "So, kiddo-"

"Why are you dating my mom?" Madeline interrupted him, her arms firmly crossed against her chest.

Whiskey huffed out a laugh, leaning back against his chair as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Because I love her. Simple as that."

"Why?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Don't answer a question with a question. Mama says it's rude."

You and Whiskey exchanged a look, both of you holding back your laughter. While she was being rude, you were a little proud of how witty she'd become.

"Alright, if I had to just pick one reason, it would be because she's super sweet." Whiskey winked at you, making you blush and gently smack his shoulder.

"Hm. What's your favorite movie?"

"Fast and furious two."

"Never seen it. Favorite color?"

"Green."

"Favorite candy?"

"Gummy worms."

Madeline squinted her eyes, leaning back in her seat as she looked him up and down. "Do you have any?"

Whiskey shrugged. "Maybe. Depends on how you answer my question."

Madeline raised her eyebrow. "What question?"

"Can I date your Mom?"

Now Madeline shrugged. "Give me the worms and I'll think about it."

Whiskey dug around in his pocket, pulling out an unopened bag of gummy worms and tossing it onto the table. He came prepared.

Madeline reached over and grabbed the bag, stuffing it into the pocket of her dress.

You cleared your throat, raising your eyebrows. "What do we say?"

Madeline looked Whiskey in his eyes. "Thank you."

Whiskey tipped his hat at her, a small smile on his lips.

-

A half an hour later, you and Whiskey were working on cleaning up the dinner mess while Madeline sat in the living room, watching her show as she worked through the bag of gummy worms.

"So, what do you think the verdict's gonna be?" Whiskey asked as he placed a dried plate into the cabinet.

You shrugged, handing him a freshly washed bowl. "I dunno, she seems to like you enough. Once, I brought one of my friends over and she threw a meatball at her because she 'looked at her wrong'. Though she only was six at the time. But still."

Whiskey dried and put away the bowl, then reached over and grabbed your hand. "C'mere baby."

You melted into his embrace, closing your eyes as you listened to his heartbeat.

Whiskey kissed the top of your head. "I love you, sugar."

"I love you too." You set your chin on his chest, allowing him to easily lean down to kiss you.

You both stayed like that for a while, holding each other so close it felt as though your hearts began to beat in sync. You didn't notice, but Madeline was leaning against the doorway, watching the two of you.

Whiskey held you a little bit tighter, giving Madeline a wink.

In return, she gave him a simple nod, before turning around to go get ready for bed.

You didn't know it, but they both came to an understanding in that short moment. Madeline and Whiskey loved you very much, and as long as you were happy, they could get along.

[axcel-lucci]

Insecurities

Trafalgar law x fem!reader

Warning: mention of graphic experiences and also some light(?) Angst

(Y/n) sat on the bed with her back against the head board and the blanket covering her legs up to her waist as she read a book

Her captain, and also handsome boyfriend, Law, was finishing up some work he had to do last minute into the night on his desk a little further away from the bed but still close enough for him to notice the bothered look on her face.

"What's wrong?" He asked softly as he looked at her

"Oh... Nothing. I'm just so fucking upset that the main character in this story is a misogynistic, sexist, fucking pick me bitch. So... I don't know... Like... Hmm... Cringe?" She muttered, "I wish this isn't the ACTUAL main character"

Law chuckled a bit and placed his pen down before stretching, "oh yeah? How's the main character a pick me?"

He always does this, asking her random questions knowing she'd ramble on for atleast thirty minutes or so just to hear her emotion filled voice.

She wouldn't normally speak unless spoken to, even in their 1 and a half year relationship. Not once has she spoken up about a few things unless it's the norm of like "hey, how you doing?" And the likes.

"Okay... So right now, the main character is in school and wore this winter ass outfit. Right? You'd expect she'd be warm as fuck, but then this 'handsome man' came along she's stuttering like a fucking maniac. Then right after, she's not like 'the other girls' and her parents CONVENIENTLY died at a car crash, she's bullied, is about to sing but then another man..." She rambled about how much of a pick me this main character is while law changed to some casual "pajamas" of his.

"That. It's so annoying!" She groaned and huffed, "but I do like the drama" she giggled

He laughed a little and turned to her, "sounds like a problem to deal with, Huh?"

"So fucking much."

"Say, do you mind if I just wear boxers to bed? It's quiet warm tonight." He muttered already shirtless

"It's alright if you're comfy with it." She smiled sweetly making his already warm heart melt.

"But... How about you?" He asked, "would you be comfortable?"

"Hmm? Oh. If you're comfortable with it, I wouldn't judge. It's not your first time sleeping with only boxers on." She laughed softly, "especially if you're next to me"

He smiled and turned his back on her before taking off his pants

(Y/n) can't help but observe him. Despite seeing just his back, she was mesmerized. Captivated even.

The way his back flexed, the thick lines of his tattoo of the jolly Roger, the curve of his hips, even the broad shoulders.

(Not to mention the ass)

"You're staring" he chuckled before she snapped back to reality

"Oh... Sorry, did it make you uncomfortable? I apologize, can't help it sometimes" she smiled softly as he walked around the bed and crawled underneath the blankets to sit on the bed and lean his whole body against her making her whine, "you're heavy..."

"I'm not that heavy" he pouted, "but... No... It doesn't make me uncomfortable. If anything, it prides me even more that I could catch your eyes like no man could" he smirked sexily.

Even though (y/n) wore a small smile, the rising blush on her cheeks screamed how flustered she is.

Another thing about her is the fact that despite feeling a different emotion, she portrays one slightly different. But always, and I mean ALWAYS, you'll see a smile on her face.

She's mad? Just see a popped out vein on her forehead with the widest smile she ever gave someone, she's sad? Just... Smiles while avoiding anyone's eyes, she's happy? A calm smile would do the trick.

He chuckled softly and gave her cheek a kiss while snatching the book away and placing it on the bedside table.

"Let's go to sleep, dear." He smiled as she nodded and laid down the bed

He did as well but wrapped an arm around her waist and the other was tucked under his head as a supporting pillow.

"Goodnight, law" she smiled as he kissed her

"Good night, (y/n)." He softly whispered and closed the lights

Feeling his arm tighten around her frame and his snores soon filled the room, (y/n)'s eyes opened with the most expressionless state in her expression

The main character didn't bother her as much as she proclaimed, contrary to popular belief, (y/n) has always been "truthful" to what she says but there are times her "truth" was merely a cover up.

She wasn't upset at the main character for being a pick me, it wasn't even the main character, it was a side character that slowly turned good thanks to the main character.

She sighed softly to herself as she stared at the ceiling then at law, then back at the ceiling.

A prickling feeling of emptiness filled her, it was like a void of nothingness and a vortex of emotions.

It's like everything she felt was merely an act, it was like a stage play with a script, a line, a dialogue... A character.

Of course she still loves her boyfriend but thinks she's not enough. By no means, she is... But there are so much in a relationship she managed to fill all of them but one.

The 'sex' part of it. The intimacy in ways of pleasure and shamelessness.

Thinking about it clenched her already empty insides, she swallowed thickly before breathing out heavily.

For a relationship that's at least a year and a half, you'd think they'd be comfortable with each other and have sex. But... (Y/n) has been cockblocking the man since their first year anniversary.

She'd create random problems without him noticing just for him to forget it for next time.

But not THAT extreme... Of course.

(Y/n) inhaled a bit then exhaled a lot.

She looked at law who had his head pressed against her arm making her smile

'you deserve so much more...' she smiled and ran a hand through his beautiful raven locks.

When they first met, (y/n) thought he was perfect. Like a god on earth... But she also noticed how he'd probably not end up with her and instead with that strawhat girl named Robin. They look good together.

But as it turns out, Robin is aroace and law... Well... He sees Robin as a mere acquaintance.

To this day, she can't believe the stars aligned and everything of his is now hers.

Maybe not everything...

Sighing again, she carefully removed herself from law, replaced with a big body pillow she keeps under the bed for moments like these.

He doesn't know about it, I mean... Who checks under the bed regularly when you're a busy doctor and surgeon, right?

She leaned down and kissed his temple before quietly making her way out of the sub and into the deck

While walking, she had the 'bright' idea of looking at her hands only to feel disgusted with a shuddered breath and just rubbed her arms with them in an attempt to calm her insides down.

Reaching the deck, she walked over to the back side of the sub, no one ever goes there but her, so she just sat down at her usual spot and stared at the moon as it literally shined in front of her.

Sighing, probably the millionth time by now, she pulled her knees up to her chest while still hugging herself for some more 'warmth'

It's not exactly the physical warmth she craves but... Warmth. Just... Warmth

....

Law groaned as he rubbed his head against (y/n) only to realize it was a fucking body pillow.

He had never seen it before so he instinctually kicked it off the bed only to lie on his back fully awake and staring at the ceiling

He hoped (y/n) was just using the bathroom or went to get some water but after thirty minutes she wasn't back yet.

Huffing with a pout, he was ready to scold her a little and got up. He looked at the bathroom and no sign of her being there the kitchen? Nope. Not even a faint evidence the glass was moved or the faucet being turned on.

He was now confused, since... Where would you go by night?

He remembered (y/n) talking about a part of the ship not being explored yet so he went there, quietly sneaking up to the back side, he realized it was a hard move

You'd literally have to climb a few steps and those steps are slippery as fuck.

But the end was rewarding though, he saw (y/n).

Her arms were on top of her knees as they were pressed against her chest, her head rested on top of them while her eyes were deep in thought

Normally, she'd see and greet him right away but she didn't this time.

There was an odd look in her eyes that made him so uneasy.

Not the type of uncomfortable but he's worried what might've happened for her to end up like this

"Hey..." He whispered, she didn't even flinch nor acknowledge him, "hey" he said again but this time a little louder

She jumped a bit before turning to him and laughing, "sorry. So deep in thoughts... What're you doing here? Shouldn't you be asleep?" She asked with her cheery self

For some reason, he didn't trust her laugh. It's like the laugh was just a facade.

"Heh. Replacing yourself with a body pillow isn't exactly a smart move when I'm so needy tonight" he mocked himself and walked right next to her before sitting down

"Oh yeah? Sorry then, kinda wanted to see the stars tonight. I hope it doesn't rain, ehe" she chuckled

He hummed as silence soon filled the place making him look at her a tad bit and noticed dried up tears down her cheeks while she smiled so... Blankly

"Is there something you aren't telling me?" He asked as (y/n) hesitated a bit but looked at him

"What do you mean? Up to this point I'm truthful to everything I say" she said proudly with a grin

But seeing his expression, she knew the jig was up.

You can fool any captain, but not this one. He can see it in her eyes that she wants to say something but doesn't have the courage to.

"Yeah... I... Kinda do..." She muttered while averting her gaze and down to the floor as she looked ahead of her

"Do you mind if I wish to know?" He asked lightly

Sure, law was problematic, but... If it weren't for (y/n) to begin with, he wouldn't even be this 'better' in terms of mental health.

"No, no... You... You should know cause this issue has something to do with you. I think. Or it's just me"

"I'm listening" he nodded

He also noticed how (y/n) seemed to avoid his eyes, everytime she'd look at him and notice him still looking at her, she immediately looks away with a rising shameful blush.

"Have you ever... Like... You know... Thought about... Thing... S" she dragged out, it was forceful, but hey... Baby steps are the next step to adult ones.

"What... Thing?"

"You know... Like... Things like... Sex... And stuff" she muttered under her breath

She kinda hoped he wouldn't have heard but hearing him chuckle made her want to sink to the bottom of the sea

"I have. Why? There's nothing wrong about sex. As a doctor, consensual sex actually releases stress from the body." He explained proudly as (y/n) just looked at him blankly and answered "oh" and nodded, "but what about it, though?"

"It's just um... I don't know... I feel weird and very much of a pervert thinking about it. I don't know. It bothers me a lot."

"Why do you think it bothers you?" He asked, looking over at her, she just stared at her hands before her fingers twitched and her whole hand soon clenched into tight fists

"It's... Nothing. We should go back to sleep"

"No." He says

"What?"

"No. We stay here until this issue is fixed. What about it?" He says in a more stern doctor voice.

He kind of expected her to say something along the lines of 'oh I'm new to it' and stuff but she gave him that look he has never seen her wear before

She sighed and looked down shamefully

Law eased a little before reaching a hand to her and noticed how she flinched.

Maybe it wasn't the experience, maybe it was far from that.

"Have you been..."

"No. I have not. In fact, people don't bring it up to me." She bitterly answered, "sorry... I... Don't know what happened"

"It's alright. I'm listening"

She sighed a little bit more, "it's not that I have been... You know... If anything, no one would cause if they do, not only will they get a bloody bruise, they'd also get jail time."

"Wait... Really?"

"Yeah... But don't worry, that was before. I'm fine with my hands now..." She sighed, "it's just... I feel like I don't give you... Us... The needs we both want. I heard a healthy sex life leads to a healthy relationship but... We've never done that before. Mostly because I destroy those moments... Sometimes"

Law hummed to himself, he does remember the times he'd try and instigate it, there would always something that would ruin it before they got out of a make out session

"It's just that... It doesn't feel enough. To me that is, not you..." She clarified, "I have big bloody scars all over my body, even have one when I got struck by lightning from my left shoulder running down to my waist."

"You got struck by lightning?" He asked

"Yup... Three times all on the same spot, until now I can still feel the pain of it despite it not being there and just seeing it disgusts me."

"How..."

"And also... In addition to those hideous big scars, I have 'smaller' ones... Not the ones I receive in battle... Those were battle scars"

Piecing it all together, it took him while not to gasp and gush all over her.

"What..."

Taking his hand, she placed it on her thigh and running his thumb down a specific path making him feel a big, long, scar.

"Does it... Hurt?"

"Ofcourse it does. What kind of scar doesn't cause you pain?" She snapped back before backing down and sighing

"I just think my body as a whole is... Hideous. Like... Super duper hideous you'd probably not want to look at me after." She sighed looking away and letting go of his hand

"What do you mean? I have scars, but-"

"Oh no, yours are majestic. They frame your body AND title perfectly. But for me... For some girl that's merely a girlfriend and a crewmate to have scars bigger than the captain's would probably be a disgrace... Cause that means I'm weak. I'm not weak"

"You're not 'some girl'. You're MY girl." He growled, "and... Pssh. I don't care if you have bigger scars than me. That just meant you're stronger than me."

"You would. You totally would." She hummed showing him her wrists which were bound by endless scars running down to the insides of her elbows

He was about to grab them but she pulled away.

"It's... It's best if you fulfill your needs... I can't fulfill all of them... I'm sorry about that" she teared up but he merely shook his head, "what are you talking about? You're all I need."

"A man needs his own pleasure and intimacy. I haven't given you any of those... Maybe a little bit of intimacy but not the sex part."

"What are you talking about? Just because we never had sex doesn't mean I'd see you no less"

"Tell me a couple who is happy without the sex." She stated

Ofcourse he can't name any cause Sanji and Zoro definitely had sex, Shachi and penguin too. Definitely those two.

"See? Most relationships run on sex for a deeper understanding. I don't understand this..."

It was silent for a while until he grabbed her hand, causing her to jump, and placed it against his chest. Enough for her to feel his beating heart

"I don't care about the sex. You are enough. And I love you" he smiled and kissed her hand, "you don't have to prove yourself to me"

"Law..."

[defire]

Back to the Dregs Part 12

Part 1 Next

Content: end of rape scene, rape aftermath, language, escape attempt, nudity, manhandling

In case you skipped Part 11, Michael was tortured in front of the camera. Morgan couldn't take it and decided to go in without enough backup.

Now Michael is stuck between a rock and a hard place--the Huers are coming for him.

I hope it's not too hard to avoid triggers for you guys. I'm not trying to make it hard to navigate, I just have only ever written in a fast-paced novel fomat.

Story below the cut

"Okay cut it out." Psycho said dismissively.

Michael groaned as spikes of fresh stinging, tearing pain and nausea burst up through him.

"I said get off him!" Psycho shouted, and the rapist froze, then slowly retreated, hands pressing one last time onto Michael's rear as he pushed off him.

Michael groaned at the final stab of pain, then lay there as tears and blood dried on his naked body. His cheek pressed into the wood as his muscles gave in to his exhaustion, face-down in the middle of the room full fo gangsters. His breaths were coming in irregular gasps, his whole body shuddering.

They were talking, but their words didn't quite make sense.

"You wanna finish, go fuck a pedo," Psycho was saying.

Something about Chris not being here today.

"Then who's gonna..."

"Well we can't leave him there, we gotta move."

"I'll..."

Michael felt a hand on his shoulder and grunted, ready for more pain.

"Mikey, get up." Jordie patted his arm roughly.

"No..." Michael groaned, trying to move. His limbs didn't want to cooperate.

They were as heavy as if someone was still sitting on them.

"I'm not gonna hurt you." Jordie said "...As long as you get up."

"T-trying..." Michael moaned. He felt so sharp and clear in his head, the stinging and pulsing pain seeming to clarify his thoguhts. So why were his words coming out like that? Why did it sound like he was wheezing insane little sobs? Did that body on the floor even belong to him?

There was a whine from the hurt boy's lips as Jordie stooped and pulled him up a bit.

Michael cooperated, trying to get his knees up under him. The last thing he wanted was to piss off Jordie, but he was so tired.

"Calm down and stand up on my count." Jordie grunted, looping Michael's arm over his shoulder. "One, two, three--" And they hefted together, Michael with a shuddering sob as his swollen legs took the weight.

He realized vaguely that the rest of the gang seemed to be trying to move, fix things up, or something, but there was a heaviness about them. Combine their dragging looks with the comment about pedos, and Michael figured that this kind of thing wasn't a common occurrence in this gang.

He thought that all between step five and step six out of the twenty-five or so to the door of his cell.

As Jordie walked him there, the relief that he wasn't being dragged elsewhere, that he was going to get to lie on something soft and stop being harrassed for even a few minutes was so enticing, he wanted to cry.

Somewhere in his head he was cursing himself for it. He shouldn't be grateful that they were going to stop abusing him. That is, once Jordie was done with him.

Michael heard the cell door close as Jordie lugged most of his bodyweight to the bed and dumped him onto it, shoving up his legs like a couple of logs.

"...Look, I don't..." Jordie was just standing there.

Michael eyed him, fingers tightly gripping the blanket as he lay there on his stomach. He couldn't quite get what motivated Jrdie to smack him around like he did. So he wasn't sure how to read his mood.

Michael tried to say something, but what came out was just a frail grunt.

"Trying to provoke me, huh?"

A tear slipped down Michael's cheek, which Jordie noticed with a sharp look.

"K--I'm kidding, man." Jordie slapped his shoulder blade as if they were friends.

Michael hissed in pain; he'd struck a bruise.

"Fuck, oops." Jordie rubbed his nose.

Why was he being so wierd, Michael wondered.

"I didn't... know it would be like that." Jordie said finally, wiht a furtive glance at Michael's hollow expression, smushed into the blanket. "For what it's worth, I... didn't know." He repeated.

Was he... trying to apologize, after a fashion?

"I don't..." Michael licked his lips. "I don't know what to do. What do you want..."

"I wouldn't have done... That." Jordie said. "I mean like... Are you okay? ...Fuck, don't answer that."

Michael didn't. He didn't trust this mood of Jordie's.

Jordie suddenly huffed and straightened, and Michael gritted his teeth as he saw Jordie's hand coming down toward his head. But instead of slapping him, the hand fell lightly on the back of his head.

Then just as suddenly, he jerked his hand away and left Michael alone.

Alone. Finally. What had happened? The cruelty of the last half hour sizzled up into his brain with hot blood rushing past his ears. The humiliation of forced nakedness in front of the entire fucking gang. The agony of the makeshift whip beating down his back and legs. And whatever ugly black hole of sensation that... that...

He pulled the pillow up under his face with a shudder, clenched his teeth, and then screamed.

Over, and over, and over. He screamed till each gasp in between whistled in his vocal cords, rage and tears squeezing out, muffled by the pillow.

He tried to stop. And then his mind would scramble to find a word that was sufficiently enraging, horrifying enough to describe it, and he would scream again.

The word "rape" was outrageously meager for what it really was.

He was out of breath, trembling, his back killing him and dripping again from the freshly-aggravated wounds because of his shrieks. Another scream cinched up his throat but he pushed back. He didn't have the energy. He needed to save it; he needed to stop.

He whimpered as he managed to lift his upper body, looking behind him at the door, wondering if Chris was going to come in. Then his eyes widened. Jordie had forgotten to close the door.

"Don't do this, Morgan." Al followed him as he loaded himself up with weapons. Not too heavy for mobility, but plenty of backup power. Better to draw a second gun than have to stop, pop the magazine out, swap it, shove it in, and chamber a cartridge before you can fire again. That would be enough time to get shot a few times.

Morgan passed out more weapons from his collection to the new faces in the group, and kept walking down the corridor.

"We bust straight into the shop from Elm." He said. "Al and Paintjob, come in from the main entrance. Make sure to hide that kevlar. If one of you goes down, you need to run."

He continued briefing the team as they checked their weapons on the way through the alley.

Morgan Huer was not known to be this brazen. But those damn Westside guys had overstepped their bounds, and it was damn well time to put them in their place.

"Wait." Morgan grabbed Al and pulled her up to keep pace with him. "Where's Davie?"

There was a silence.

"He told me he couldn't, sir," Al said.

"He couldn't make it." Morgan repeated, daring Alvie to repeat that.

"He said his wife went into labor."

"His wife! I thought he was divorced."

"...He doesn't know we know that, sir." Al said. "I'm sorry, sir. I think he's--"

"He's a rat!" Morgan spat, rage flaming in his mouth as he let loose a string of curses. "--two-faced bastard! I'll fucking kill him!" He growled.

"But that means pigs." Al lowered her voice.

"I know." Morgan fumed.

"We... sir..."

Morgan turned his scowl on her as the Huers reached a crosswalk.

"Got something to say, Alvie?" He used her full name for more effect.

Alvie thought so long they were halfway across the next block of sidewalk before she said,

"No, sir, I don't."

"Good." Morgan said. "Let's go."

Michael stared out of the corner of his eye at the cracked-open door.

Was it a trap?

He rubbed his swollen eyes, clenching his fists and trying to straighten out his mind enough to think. He could barely even stand... How could he escape anyway?

He could hear them better outside now, though.

"Welcome girls," Someone said.

Up until now, the Westsiders had been known as a guys-only gang. Had they brought their girls? Were they that desperate?

There was a loud crack outside, then the sound of toppling wood.

"Come on!" Psycho shouted above the other voices. "Let's tear down those supports!"

His voice was joined by a cheer that sounded like fifty or so people. Not the thirty that had accumulated by the time Michael was dragged away. Something big was going down.

They sounded awfully certain that the Huers were coming.

Michael strained to move his naked body. He whimpered as he got his legs up, then pushed himself up to sitting on his bloody haunches with a hissing moan.

"Fuck... Everything hurts."

It was the thought of the Huers that made him shudder, grit his teeth and lower a leg onto the floor. His legs shook under his weight, and he paused, trying to remember how to get out, and if he'd have to go through anywhere without a wall or rail to lean on.

Morgan Huer was coming.

And Michael was not planning on being "rescued".

He put his hands on the bed and got his other leg onto the ground.

He studied the blanket.

He had to cover his arms, and preferably his crotch. He couldn't go out like this. He caught the words,

"It's both of them!" And his heart skipped a beat.

What if Joseph Huer himself was out? Had he escaped prison? Was that what they meant by 'both of them'? It had to be.

He couldn't tell if he was just having a paranoid fear reaction, or if it really made sense to assume it. But when it came to the Huers, "assume the worst" was a trusty standby.

He ripped the blanket off the bed and tossed it over his shoulders, wincing at the contact with his wounds.

The shakiness was easing, but the weakness and fatigue seemed to be onlly getting worse.

As he forced himself to move, he could hear Mr. Huer's voice in his memories, right at his back, it seemed.

"Get off the floor!" He had ordered. "You're a Huer! Huer's don't give up!"

Michael wanted to give up then. He'd fought for the right to give up. And now he couldn't let himself, because that man's voice was nipping at his heels.

As his arms pushed against the walls for support, his head was getting fuzzier, feverish.

He had the feeling of a gun in his hands as he touched the doorknob, finger tracing over the latch. They were fighting outside, their noises just louder than the roaring of blood in his own head. There were gunshots, kind of a lot.

And now he heard the sound of a police megaphone saying something about the building being surrounded.

Michael hoped that wasn't a bluff.

He peeked out. There were several gang members outside. They were facing the entryways with guns drawn, backing toward one corner of the building together, so they were clearly Westsiders.

Michael closed his eyes, accepting that if he ran, they might shoot him. But he'd rather die than goback to the Huers.

He pushed off the door frame and ran.

The blanket flapped at Michael's thighs as he darted forward. Just before he stepped, he realized that the nails holding the planks to the floor had been removed up ahead, and there were several places where the entire floor sagged.

It was a fucking trap for the Huers, of course.

Michael leapt off his good leg onto a taller part. That part had to be at least a little safer.

"He's running!" A girl shouted.

"Let 'im." Jordie's voice carried across the floor. "We don't need him anymore anyway."

Michael caught at the banister as they began to argue and someone fired. The bullet hit the sloping roof just above his head.

He cursed as he stepped onto his shot leg, and it suddenly gave out beneath him. He tumbled down the stairs in a mess of blanket and battered limbs, dragging himself away from the main entrance.

"It's him." Someone whispered. "Don't kill him. That's Michael."

Let it be police, let it be police...

Michael crawled toward the door, but a hand landed on his neck and pulled him back.

Michael flinched and pushed himself away, neglecting the blanket, but his attacker gripped tighter and threw their bodyweight onto his back. Michael gasped, then groaned and cursed at the rough clothes scraping against his cuts, a hip digging into his bruises as th ehand now encircled his throat until the entire arm locked over his jugular.

"Michael." The man said, leaning to the side to look him in the eyes. "You cn't go out there. There's cops."

Michael met the man's eyes, and felt himself going pale with horror.

It was Morgan Huer.

Taglist:

@fleur-a-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @whumped-by-glitter @whump-writings @mimostic @tildeathiwillwrite

[novasintheroom]

120. Climb

♡ Pairing - Vash x Reader

♡ Word count - 1k

♡ Warnings - none

Part of the 150 Bullets drabble series on AO3

Part 1 ---- Part 2 ---- Part 3 ---- Part 4 (you are here!)

The suns beat jealous heat down on the sands. Your tomas breathes steadily, despite the bullet graze on its right leg. Your own arm throbs, bruising with handprints.

You barely escaped.

Don and Mac were a lot less drunk than they acted. And they were a step ahead of you, too. They made a move for your equipment, the research, just before dawn that next day. You were all set to make a run for it, then they –

You grunt and snarl at nothing, furious. They tried to assault you. Should have known. The only reason you were still whole in any sense was the way Vash came to your rescue, fighting off both big men while telling you to run for it.

So you did. Like a coward.

Telling all this to McDonough when you get back to town elicits a few swears from the old man. He’s red-faced, angry, but still asks if you got the research away. With a glare, you push the papers into his greedy hands and demand your payment. Now.

He at least has the decency to offer you a room to sleep in that night. The whole of the payment sits heavy in your pocket as you sit and stare aimlessly on the bed. What do you do now? Return to the university, obviously, with more than enough funding for the next assignment you’ll be sent out on. But it doesn’t feel right. You have no idea what happened to Vash; if he managed to get the upper hand on Don and Mac.

What if he’s been left out in the desert to die, and those two fiends are on their way to take the payment by force? Suddenly staying with McDonough doesn’t seem like such a good idea. Staying in town in general sounds like a horrible plan. You stand and begin packing up your things again, quickly. Doesn’t matter how tired or sore you are; if someone is on your tail, you need to get somewhere safer than a Podunk little town with one sheriff.

A knock comes to your door. You pause, a hand in your bag. You look to the window. A two-story drop doesn’t sound so bad. You call out, “One second!” and hook your bag around your shoulders. The window is hard to open; it doesn’t seem like it’s been opened in a while. The wood squeals a bit as it’s lifted. One leg goes out, then the other, and you turn to lower yourself as far as you can down the side of the building. Another knock comes, and you call out, “Just – hold on – wha – !” Your hands slip a bit on the stool of the window.

You don’t hear your door open, but you feel hands on yours, gripping your wrists. You yelp in surprise and let go. The hands hold firm, and suddenly you’re dangling out the window, feet kicking thin air.

“Woah, hey, woah!  ______, calm down!”

It’s hard to concentrate when you’re mid-air. But you look up and see Vash, whole and bright-eyed and panicky, trying to lift you back up to your room. “Vash!” You call out. Despite your fear, you feel a bloom of warmth and relief in your chest. He’s alive. He’s okay.

“Put your feet on the wall and climb back up!” He says, grunting.

You do.

When you’re back in the room with feet firmly planted on the floor, you rush to hug him. He takes it awkwardly, arms going out on either side before finally encircling you, light as a feather. You pull back after a moment and look him over. “Are you alright? I thought you died!” You see a bruise on his cheek, some scratches on his neck and hand. You stop yourself from brushing a finger over them.

“This, coming from the girl who was dangling out a two-story window?” He asks, lips quirking up.

Your face flushes. “I thought you were Mac or Don come to finish me off. I was trying to escape quietly.” He laughs, and you push his shoulder. “Seriously, are you alright? You look…beat up.”

He smiles. “You should see the other guys!” He shrugs at your questioning look. “I, uh, tied them up at camp and gave the sheriff a tip on them. Turns out they have a few warrants in other towns, just not this one.”

How convenient. You shake your head. “How in the world did you manage both of them?”

He laughs again, sheepish, and scratches at his neck. “Lucky, I guess. I came right after you, though. Wasn’t sure if you’d been hurt with all the scuffle.” He brings his hands to your arms and turns you this way and that. “Are you alright?” He sees the bruises on your arms where Don had grabbed at you. A flash of darkness overcasts the blue in his eyes. “Oh…”

“I’m fine,” you say, automatic. And you are. Bruises heal, and thanks to the man in front of you, that’s all that needs healing. Speaking of, you reach into your pocket and pull out the wad of cash McDonough gave you earlier. “We got paid, in full by the way.” You count out two-thirds of the money and hand it to him.

His eyes widen, but he pushes it back. “Half and half.”

Your brows furrow. What kind of merc is this guy, asking for less money? “Vash, you saved my life more than once on this trip. You deserve a fair cut.”

“And half is fair.” He smiles.

You sigh and shake your head. “You’re strange. Very strange.” Still, to placate him, you recount the money and take half and pocket it. You’ll try to sneak it to him later.

He pockets his half, then gives you a look. “So…wanna go get food to celebrate?”

You do.

And it was a strange and frankly boring way to end your first adventure with Vash the Stampede. Sitting at a Ma and Pa’s waiting for donuts, of all things, to be served wasn’t how you pictured it. But years down the line, you’ll look back at it fondly, knowing that was where it all started.

[turretistrying]

The Caged Bird and Chased Mouse

Chapter 2: The Mouse Rests

HOLY HECK,,, lots of people seem to like this idea, i wasn’t expecting people to like it or want to be part of a taglist no less! Im still not a writer by trade,, im an artist so maybe,,, just maybe,,, ill draw some scenes if you ask politely (they;ll be sketches but hey if it helps you visualize then I’d be happy to help!) also If you want i can answer things if something’s unclear in the story *this is just me asking for asks tbh,, i need friends haha* anyways i’ma make this one longer to compensate for the shorter one last time.

No Warnings!

You were in a void of darkness, sitting down on the non-existent floor. You look around hoping you’d see something at least vaguely familiar to latch yourself to, but it was truly empty. You started to stand up to gain some bearings on where you were.

It felt like a dream, you thought, it had the same sort of fuzzy quality you’d feel when dreaming with nothing truly concrete. Or perhaps, it’s a worse, torturous nightmare than the one you just escaped, your traitorous brain supplied. You shook your head to make sure the thought didn’t linger for too long and started to wander in the void.

After a while of walking around aimlessly you started to think of your life before this whole fiasco, your comfortable bed with plenty of blankets, pillows and plushies. Your walls decorated with assorted posters and trinkets. Your windows that gave a clear view of your yard and the bird feeder you put to watch them come and go. Your plants outside that needed water regularly, making you one of the few Genshin players that touched grass nearly everyday.

You didn’t even realize you had closed your eyes. You opened them, expecting to see the void once again but…

It was your room. Your magnificent room. You could’ve cried at such a familiar and mundane sight.

You were about to fall into your bed but you noticed it was alright occupied by someone. It was the child that was trapped in the orb thing, she was here sitting in your bed looking at you expectantly. You sat next to her in the bed (damn, it also felt the same,) and stared back.

“…” The white-haired girl kept opening and closing her mouth as if she couldn’t think of what to say to you, “You seem so… Familiar to me. Do you know why?”

You were taken aback, but worried, was she also going to accuse you of being an imposter? You spoke after a bit “uhm, no, I’m sorry.”

“Oh. I was hoping you knew, it’s frustrating to not know something when its… uhm” She puts a finger to her chin in thought

“On the tip of your tongue?” You try and supply helpfully

“Yes! Hehe, I guess that was also ‘on the tip of my tounge’!” She giggles at what she thought of, you also laugh but mostly because of her enthusiasm. You both settle back into silence but a question was still bugging you in the back of your head;

“Why were you trapped in that… Orb thing,” You gesture a circle shape with your hands ”back in what I assume is the real world.”

“Ah, well I’m the Archon of Sumeru and-“ Your eyes widen at that but you decide to stay quiet, “I’m not fit to rule Sumeru, so I let the Sages run everything and because of that I’m not really meant to be outside of the Sanctuary so I’m stuck here.” Her head sags down when she finished speaking, making her look incredibly downtrodden

You tilt your head slightly to the side at mention of ‘Sages’, but decide to just ask simple questions since, well this has been the first character that has shown you friendliness towards you and you’d like to make a friend before they turn against you. “What’s your name? I’m sorry, i know I should’ve asked earlier but, I forget i guess. I’ll tell mine in return, its only fair.”

She lifts her head back up and gives a smile “That’s okay, I also should have asked. I’m Lesser Lord Kusanali but you can called me Nahida.” You tell her your name, your real one and not the one you used in the game, which seemed to be the name given to ‘The Creator’ from what you’ve gathered in your terrifying travels across Teyvat.

You yawn and lean back into bed, “I know this is a dream and yet I still feel tired, I wonder why that is.” Nahida looks at you while you lay down, as if she wants to do something.

“Do you want to.. cuddle Nahida?” You offer, unsure

Her eyes widen and she gives a shy slow nod to you. You open your arms as you lay on your side for her to come over. She hesitantly gets closer, almost nervous about it. Once she’s close enough you wrap your arms around her and pull her closer, she’s like a plushie shes so smol squish her, you thought as you started to drift into what felt like an even deeper sleep. Nahida’ s small arms wrapped around you waist and snuggled her head into your chest as you fell unconscious.

_________________________________________________________________________________

The Traveler felt… Lost. The force that seemed to guide them throughout Teyvat seemed to disappear, they no longer felt the warmth that the being dubbed ‘The Creator’ gifted them when they led their body to new areas and helped with everything. Paimon has been asking them what’s wrong and why they haven’t been traveling (or talking for that matter) as much as of late, because Paimon didn’t seem to understand anything about The Creator at all unlike the Traveler’s other companions. “Maybe Paimon isn’t worthy enough to receive The Creator’s warmth like me” thought the Traveler as they absentmindedly pushed around the ash from the campfire they’d set up an hour earlier.

They decided to bring out their Adventure Handbook and flipped to the Map, it seemed like they was one marker left from the last time they had been controlled by The Creator. “Hey Paimon, Tomorrow we’ll be back on the road.” Traveler said to his flying friend who was currently devouring an entire Honey Roast.

“*Nom Nom* Where to? Paimon’s bones have been aching for some good adventure!” Paimon ignored that Traveler had finally spoke a full sentence to her after weeks, more focused on the idea of going somewhere new.

“Sumeru.”

_________________________________________________________________________________

So? How you like it? It’s probably not that long if im being honest ehe. So yeah Traveler is coming into the mix, which btw you guys can decide if you want the Traveler to be Lumine or Aether! (Because I can’t deal with using They for both you the reader and the traveler because i will get confused when writing) Also the whole room thing is based on what my room is like, other than the bird feeders but I’m getting those sometime this year i promise. I also had to read the lore for Nahida and it seems there was never like,,, a solid reason for why she was trapped in the orb thing other than “Sages wanted to and she did it out of her own freewill” and didnt have a larger purpose.

If your name is crossed out it means I couldn’t tag you I’m sorry :(

Taglist: @no-name-omo @moosieman123456 @tinandabin @esthelily @d0rmiens-fact0rem @lunalily19 @meerpea @justasleepyboi @lunarianillusion @cumbermovels @allblognamesaretakenlikereally @dulleyeddreamer @ello-its-me-ya-boi @jayastronomicnova

[mysteriouslysaltypoetry]

Cold fingers

Chapter 2:

Raph x reader story A/N:Another part is out! it is currently 5am but oh well, i started writing and then just didn't stop. But here we go, I love all April's they are my pookies.

Chapter 1/ 3

The week had been going great, hanging out with his brothers and his friends, not much work either since the city had been fairly peaceful. Raph was laying on the couch just scrolling through his phone when a notification caught his attention.

April🧡

-Hey! Vern is going to a club today and invited me, Case is gonna be there too

-And I thought you and the guys would wanna come!

-It’s gonna be fun!

He smiles at the text, going out did sound fun and it was a chance to relax and possibly mingle… alright maybe not that last part as much but the thought is what counts. He stretches lazily and answers her.

-Yeah im in. Sounds fun enough.

Raph gets up and texts his brothers to check if they would be joining him, Donnie and Leo were a very unlikely yes but even they had to be slowly descending into boredom madness.  He didn’t have to wait very long though, cause they all pinged him with a resounding “YES” to the afternoon plans. ‘Welp, time ta change then’ even if changing meant putting his nicer pair of pants and boots, maybe his jacket too (even if to only put it around his waist-).

When the time for the party rolls around the four of them are already waiting for their friends and the front door, the place was nice, the outside looking kinda fancy but also casual enough that there wasn’t a crazy line waiting for them at the entrance. Soon enough they see April and Jones approaching, with a surprise third party who none of them had met before except… ‘There’s no fucking way’ he thought. But lo and behold, there she was clear as day, the girl from the place he went to a week ago, smiling just as she had when they first talked. This time she wasn’t in some fancy get up but a more relaxed look, looked more at ease too, once she caught his eye she waved at him.

“Hi guys! Sorry we’re a bit late, we went to pick up my friend (y/N). She was a last minute addition to our little group, hope that’s alright?”

“The more the merrier! Don’t sweat it angelcakes!” As always, Mikey was ready to welcome any new members with open arms, Donnie and Leo nodded in agreement, never the ones to be rude to anyone but also not as energetic and out there as their younger sibling. (Y/ N) turns to them and chuckles.

“Thanks you guys! Really means a lot, I was just ITCHING to go out but had no one to go with, y’all are my saviours today.” She said shaking hands with the three of his brothers. Getting to him she sends him a playful smirk “Long time no see, big guy. Thought that was gonna be the last I saw of ya.” Her hands lingered on his, the tips of her fingers freezing against his but still just as gentle as the first time they had met.

“Heh. Could say the same about ya.” 

“You guys know each other?” Of course Jones had to ask something, guy made being annoying his whole career, Raph sighs and rolls his eyes  “Yeah we  met last week when we went to that bar we went  to. We talked for like two minutes.” He gives them, getting a collective nod of satisfaction from his answer ‘fucking weirdos. Always up in someone’s business’ he smiles.

As they head they start looking for Vern, not that the guy was hard to find but in the current lighting they had the task at hand proved to be difficult as they eyed the tables at the place. April and (Y/N) were giggling away at something on their phones and already asking for drinks, a look of mischief on their faces ‘oh this is gonna be great’ he thinks, making his way to them quickly, since Jones had left them to go keep looking for Vern.

The group eventually does find him, at one of the tables hidden away at the corner, sipping away at his drink and finishing up some conversation. They all sit down and he smiles at them excitedly.

“Oh I’m glad you could all come, I was starting to get bored of not doing anything with you guys! How are you finding the place? This is my new little nook, the vibes are great here.” He lays back, relaxed look on his face.

“This is much nicer than I was expecting I gotta admit” Donnie says, his posture much more calm than when they first got there “Normally parties aren’t my thing but this has been very okay so far, their drinks are great too.”

“Yeah! I missed hanging with people at a nice club.” (Y/N) says leaning on April, she looked in her element, comfortable and at ease. Raph smiled at them as she leaned in, a conspiratory look on her face “But I’m really feeling the need to dance! Who’s coming with me?!” she says already dragging April with her ‘well, not much choice there’ he chuckles. Mikey obviously follows suit and links arms with the ladies.

“Oh I am in! Let’s show these people how it’s done!” he shouts as they head to the dance floor.

______________________________________________________________

Mikey's POV

 As they get to the floor, they try to find a little space for them all to dance in comfortably, which proved to be harder than they thought . Finally, thankfully they find and just let loose, each of them finding their own rhythm and laughing amongst each other.

(Y/N) turns to look around and stops in her tracks, the scene in front of her leaving her frozen in place.

“Hey? You okay?” April asks, Mikey also stopping his dancing to look where (Y/N) was looking.

“Am I hallucinating or is that Brad with a random girl chewing on his face?” She asks in a tense tone, and yup, it only took April one look to confirm that that was in fact Brad. (Y/N) holds her hand tightly and sighs, her eyes closed.

“Who’s Brad? What is happening right now?” Mikey asks, kind as ever after noticing his friend’s distressed look.

“THAT, is my supposedly his place boyfriend… sucking on that girl’s lips.” She says, looking annoyed now.

‘Oh. OH!’ Mikey’s eyes widen ‘Well shit, that sucks.’

[foggypeacestrawberry]

Dragonfish Reloaded

I continue the story of the WaterFireGod, for part 1 click here

(1) Remember the gate, where the humanoid aliens came through?:

(2) It changed a lot after them humanoids arived -

(3) The second invasion started at dawn. It all happened very fast:

Some very mighty guards came through the gate...

(4) ...and them tiny fragile blossoms, that arrived earlier with the humanoids, grew within seconds into all kinds of - plants?! :

(5) At the same time, a second gate opened…

(6) … spitting out some more "visitors"…

(7) … all kinds of pretty agressive fellas!

(8) The whole garden of our little unnamed sim changed into a nightmare.

Well, he called them, and they came, right?

(9) They forced him to sit down and stay put on an alienesh-crystal-stone-stool-thingy…

(10) …and startet talking…

(11) … to their GOD! The WaterFireGod. Our well known dragonfish.

(12) Then they told our little unnamed sim, that they will return to their home planet through that portal, together with their god...

(13) … right after they solved this kind-a-tricky problem, that they just learned about from the little fish - sry, your highness, of course -

(14) Turns out, unfortunatly they can not just kill the sim, and leave with their god, as they intended…

(15) … because their god can not survive without our little unnamed sim, due to the bond that exists between them. This bond must be broken of course. Or else!

(16) (Moment of akward silence)

(17) They startet negotiating. Meanwhile it was bright daylight.

(18) They discussed during the whole day…

(19) …and also the whole next night.

(20) It turned out, there is more to the good old dragonfish than we ever imagined:

When he spits fire unterwater, while living with a sim that he has a very special bond with, the fire sinks down on the ground, and turnes into gold.

And you know what they say about dragons… they protect treasure.

Next time I will tell you:

What kind of bond the sim + the dragonfish do have,

what the sim is doing with all this gold?!,

and what the "Fisch des Grauens*" has to do with all that

ITS YOUR TURN NOW!

I want you to have the option to influence the story. You can choose 1 of these 3 options, what you want me to put into the story next:

No 1 - Someone will die

OR

No 2 - No one will die

OR

No 3 - Something will happen that has to do with owls.

Just write it into the comments until the End of April, then we will wrap it up and count the voices for 1/2/3!

* Please someone tell me how this fish is called in English, I couldn´t figure that out! (the dark-greenish fella living in the ponds of graveyards, killing all other fishes, and that can be used for prolonging live) - Or maybe I´ll just make up a new name for it :-D , you can recognize it anyway by the pictures I will take then.

The mods I used here for the first time:

Asparagus densiflorus, from alex_stanton1983

Lotus Lamp, from 4Sims

Floor-Lamp Skoll, from sim_man123

From @murfeelee :

TW3 Archespore Miniset

Skyrim Blackreach Giant Mushrooms as Outdoor Lights Miniset

AMR Small Plants Group

Junk Pile as Coin Pile

Deniisu_TS4 to TS3 RoM Rug Medallion as Floor Light

Thank you, @murfeelee! Love your stuff since I played the first time with the telvanni-village, and that was on my old computer (meanwhile, this computer I´m using now is pretty old).

I will also continue the 10-things-challange, weeks ago I already picked the items for the next round - but at the moment, I want to finish that alien-story first!

And yes, I still have to finish the sorting of my mod-collection. That has highest priority, not just because I want to continue playing, but also because of this 10-things-challange I started. For both I need a well-sorted, richly filled mod-folder (lol).

Well. The last weekend I spend downloading nearly everything that Murfeelee ever published :-D ! Just the sorting of this murfeelee-collection alone will take a week, or two, or whatever it takes :-D.

I started yesterday evening with the Letter A. Today I will do the B… like in "babysteps". Like in "Baby Yoda as Teddybear", that is the first mod beginning with a "B" in my murfeel-folder.

Just imagine, this green little fella, how well he would have fit in my alien-story, if I would have known this mod a week before.

You all have a good time :-)

Oh NO now I need to do the tagging. I still have NO clue how that really works here on tumblr, although I always watch you other simmers out there, and try to get it.

[bandgie]

All in White Pt. 2

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

a/n: second part to this post, you can read it as a stand alone but I might make this like a little story so yeah

smut!Miguel O'Hara

synopsis: After a your hook-up gone wrong tries his luck again while you're walking home, Spiderman is there to save the day. You wonder if he thought about your last encounter with him like you had, and you soon find out he wanted you more than you thought.

warnings!: reader is harassed a little, but nothing too bad (yelling, cursing, rough grabbing)

2.7k words

You didn't miss the way Spiderman had his head between your legs. How he used his lips and tongue to give you an absurd amount of pleasure. That all he wanted to do was taste you, make you finish in his mouth so he could savor you. No, of course not. It's only been a month since you've had such as experience, plus it was a one-time thing. You were sure of it.

That's why it wasn't surprising that you met up with one of the politician's sons. You were chasing the same feeling, not Spiderman himself. It's why you had the arrogant man also eating you out, trying to replicate the feeling you once had.

That's all you wanted.

He was not as good as he made himself out to be. He was too rough, making you squirm from pain rather than pleasure. When you ran into him at one of the underground bars you frequent, you thought you would give him a chance. If he had enough confidence to say he could make you cum on his tongue alone, he should be able to actually do it right?

Wrong. That's why you found yourself pushing his head away, sitting up from the bed you laid on. You hadn't gotten fully naked, just leaving your lower body exposed.

"What?" He asked, irritated that you stopped him.

"Oh ya know...I'm just not feeling it," you say gently. You scoot away and get off the bed, bending down to grab your underwear.

"Fuck you mean you weren't feeling it?" He scoffs, "You're so wet. Here, let me try-"

You shake your head, underwear stickily on. Yes you were wet, but you were thinking about the hero. How he sucked on you, kissed on you, how he-

"It's a normal, human response," you tell the man in front of you, interrupting your thoughts.

You tune him out. He starts saying something about you being unreasonable and a bad lay. You almost laughed, but you were too busy looking for your white skirt.

Finally, you find your belongings, putting your purse around your shoulder and fixing your heels. You look at yourself in the mirror to fix your hair. You cringe at the messy lipstick, remembering how bad of a kisser he was too.

You fix yourself up and head towards the door, hand out before he raises his voice, "You're a fucking bitch. Slut."

Now you laugh, whirling your head to look at him, "Yes. Because that's what every lady loves to hear.

-

It's far too late to catch a cab or to call your limo to pick you up, so you settled for walking home. It wasn't too far, about 5 miles away. Your heels, however, made it seem twice the distance.

Your brain started going over all the things you've done since your last encounter with Spiderman. Yes, you've met up with a significant amount of more people, but you're just trying to get off. Does that make you a slut? Maybe. Does it make you a bitch for leaving people high and dry? Maybe

Do you care? No.

It would be so much easier if it was the half spider that you could have. It's almost worrisome how much you crave him. You never wanted to suck and fuck someone so bad.

You feel your needy pussy pulse from thinking about him when it finally hits you after this whole month. You have it bad, you're dick whipped.

You're so caught up in your thoughtful walk that you don't notice the person behind you until the grab you by the waist.

You scream, arms immediately swinging while your eyes try to find the face of your kidnapper.

"Stop it! Crazy fucking bitch."

You don't need to see the face to know who it is: The politician's son. You shove him off you, catching your breath. You tale a few steps back, feeling uneasy as he stares at you.

"I'm crazy? You come up to me like a fucking robber how else am I supposed to act?!" You yell, clutching your purse.

An argument between you breaks out. How you were selfish to leave him without letting him cum, how you didn't even cum either so there shouldn't be an issue. You notice that he steps closer during the quarrel, so you take some steps back.

The vocal dance between you two continues until you decide you have enough, turning on your heel to leave. There's no point in arguing with him, or men in general.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?!"

You reach in your purse to grab your pepper spray, but he's faster. Deathly clutching your wrist and the back of your neck with his hands. A cry leaves you and you start kicking at him, screaming, scratching and-

A strong force suddenly knocks him off you. It was so strong that your assaulter hit the wall behind you, knocking him out. Red, neon webs shoot out, tying his unconscious body up. You steady your breathing and wobble away, stunned by everything taking place. You run into a big wall, a squishy one. It registers that it's someone's chest and you look up.

A breath of relief escapes you when you see the familiar white eyes staring down on you. You grasp his arms to make sure he's real, letting your head rest on his chest as you calm your heart.

He reminds you of a cat, so still and stiff he's not sure that he likes the affection you're given him. Truthfully, he shouldn't. It's extremely inappropriate and too out in the open. But he enjoys to warmth your body gives him, your soft breath on his suit.

"Are you okay?" He asks, his voice deep.

You nod, pulling away to look up him. He suddenly uses his hands to touch your face, collecting the tears that fell. You didn't even notice you were crying, too focused in the situation you were in.

"Thank you," you say. You notice that your still holding onto his arms, not wanting to let go. You like the way he feels, hard and warm. He feels like safety.

The hero nods, hands leaving your face and you do the same. "It's dangerous to be walking around this late ya know?" His voice his stern, but light with curiosity on why you're even here in the first place.

"Yeah I know. I prolly shouldn't be out this late, especially with that guy," you joke, turning to acknowledge the passed out man behind you.

"So you know him?" You've peaked Spiderman's interest.

You nod, "Yeah we uhh...hung out...earlier and I left. Guess he wasn't too happy with that."

You swear you could see the mask slightly move, as if frowning. Surely, this superbeing isn't upset that you were in the middle of a hook-up-gone-wrong scenario would he?

"Is that so?" The displeasure evident in his voice clear. It takes a lot of will power to keep yourself from smiling. You want to tease him more, a sudden burst mischief blooming inside you.

"You're better," you blurt. That not what you meant to say.

Maybe it was because of the way his arms folded against his chest or how he looked at you annoyed and irritated. You felt small.

"You were so much better," stop talking, "He didn't even know where the clit was when it was right in front of him. I don't even know why I met up with him-with anyone! I...you...I just..." You bury your face in your hands, embarrassed by your sudden confession.

He doesn't say anything, most likely also stunned by what you said. You were going to start walking in the opposite direction before he started laughing. You shyly peek up, watching as he rubs his masked face with his hands and laughing to himself.

"Are you being serious?" He asks once he's composed himself.

You hesitate, scared of what he might say if you answer truthfully. Fuck it, you think, I've already come this far.

"Yeah, I think about your cock down my throat all the time," you whisper, prepared for the worst.

Instead he smiles, though you can't see it, and rests one of his hands on your shoulder. He bends down to reach your eye level, face too close for hero and civilian.

"Tonight's been a slow one honestly, and I've been thinking about taking a little break," he tells you.

-

Spiderman finds an alley big enough to fit you both. It doesn't take too long to get yourself on your knees in from of the man who saved you. You eagerly lick your lips, waiting until he clicks the buttons in his wrist a few times before his cock is free.

You smile and look up at him, "That watch can sure do a lot huh?" You don't bother to wait for him to respond, instead taking his length in your hands. He's warm to the touch and it has you bite your lips in excitement. You lock eyes with his mask, kissing him and nuzzling your face closer to him.

Spiderman undoes the lower part of his mask, revealing is lips and nose. He knows it's risky, he shouldn't have even taken you to a secluded area. Miguel never goes for the same person twice, but the way you look at him, like he's the only person you want, it does something to him. Plus he didn't get the feel how your mouth is around him, so he can excuse his mistake this time.

You're tempted to stop your actions and kiss him, but a part of you feels as though that would be stepping a boundary (despite the tip of his cock pressing your lips). You leave one hand to stroke him shaft and the over the cup his heaviness. You lean forward, eyes never his face when you engulf his tip. He sighs approvingly, hand stroking your hair. You smile with him between your lips, finally closing your eyes to focus on not gagging.

Something that is quickly proven difficult. He wasn't only long, but ungodly thick. You were sure you couldn't manage anything past halfway, but the way he was gripping your head and the groans that slipped past him, you were willing to try.

His tip hits the back of your throat and you moan. It hurts, damn near making you want to pull him out, but you're determined. You let yourself drool all over him so he could slide in easier, hands going to work.

Your need for air gets to you as you yank yourself away, gasping and moaning. You feel your spit dribble down your chin and he smiles. "Open your mouth for me." You obey him without question, parting your lips and sticking your tongue out. A nice, wet glob of his spit hits your tongue and some of your cheek. You happily accept it, licking your lips and swallowing it.

Despite you being the one sucking him off, you can't help but get wet. The way your underwear sticks to your cunt and how you can't help but picture him inside you. It would be quite a stretch, but you would love to feel possessed by him.

You go back to the task at hand, this time with more fever. You move the hand from his balls to grip his waist, giving you leverage to press your face as deep as you can take it before moving away. A part of you wishes you could touch yourself, but all of your focus needs to be on the man in front of you.

It's not long before you find a rhythm, occasionally gagging around him and pulling away to gasp for air. He tangles his fingers in your hair and presses you into him, your nose brushing his pelvis. Your eyes roll back into your head, making noises around his girth. You love being used like this. Your pussy aches in desperation, wishing that it was the one being abused rather than your mouth.

He guides your head back and forth while you make sure to suck hard. He hisses softly, "Fuck just like that." You would say something back if you could, but instead you let him throat fuck you. Then you feel the way his dick twitches, how his hands pull your hair aggressively; he's goin to cum.

Your chest starts burning from your oxygen deprivation, but you have bigger things to care about like making sure he cums down your throat. You go deeper than you know you can handle, gagging so forcefully you fear of throwing up. Then it happens, his essence goes deep into your throat. You gargle and try to push away on instinct, but he keeps your head on him.

You can feel your spit and him cum drip out of your mouth, your eyes looked at his pleadingly. He answers your prayers and releases you from his grip and you take a big gulp of air. It's like you've been underwater, damn near drowning with the way you're gasping. You can feel the slick between your lips drip to your thighs, you need him bad.

Without warring he yanks your hair so you're looking up at him. Spiderman takes the tip of his softening cock and rubs it along your lips, humming happily. "You have quite the mouth." You smile and wobble up so you standing, hand going to his dick to softly stroke him. He groans from the over stimulation.

"Well, you have quite the dick. You should've shown me the first time," you comment back, recalling the memories from the bathroom. He laughs grabbing your throat to bring you closer to him.

"Everyone likes a little surprise don't they?" He teasingly whispers before kissing you. You moan into his mouth, knowing he can taste his spill as he shoves his tongue deep into you. He pulls away, hand steadily holding your throat.

Then he's looking at you, really looking at you. The moonlight dances beautifully on your skin, despite how dirty your white skirt had gotten. The way your eyes look so hungry and full of desire, he swears he can see all of your wants just by looking at them. His thumb runs over your lower lip, taunting you.

"Give me your underwear," he suddenly says, making your eyes widen. "What?" You say, your hand stopping from stroking him. A mischievous smile plays on his lips, "Consider payment for taking you home." "But I'm not home," you battle, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. "You will be," he counters, "I'm not going to let you walk home."

You put your finger to your lips, pretending to think about it, "Hmm I guess I can't say no to the big spider can I?"

-

You're at the front of your door, still winded by swinging in the city but his webs. Your hair must be a mess and your throat is sore from screaming. Still, when you turn to look at Spiderman, he looks at you like he's can't get enough.

He sticks his hand out and for a second you're confused, then you remember, his payment. You sneak a glance around before bending down to take your panties off. You've never given anyone your garments and no one has ever asked for them, yet the thought of giving it to Spiderman sends chills down your body.

Once you finish, you place them into his hands. He smile and inspects them, "Wow. You were really wet huh?"

You playfully smack his chest, feeling your face heat up. "Shut up!" you whisper loudly. He only laugh and steps closer to you, and you think he's going to kiss you.

He doesn't, instead dipping his fingers underneath your ruined white skirt and playing with your wet folds. You whine, feeling his rough fingers play with you skillfully. Just as you feel yourself getting warm he slaps your pussy harshly, making you yelp.

He takes his fingers out of you and shoves them into your mouth. Your tongue dance around his fingers, happily taking anything he gives you.

"Don't miss me too much," he says, taking his fingers out of your mouth.

With that he leaves, your lace underwear in his clutches.

A/N: I might make a 3rd part idk, low-key not getting much inspiration but I know what I want to write lmao

[slayerkitty]

On Hidden Agenda and if the Agenda is Really Hidden (Part 2)

Where we last left off on our road trip, @respectthepetty and I had pulled the clown car over, started checking out directions and trying to figure out where we went wrong in our theories and I sat down to re-watch the show to figure out what we missed. Last time I posited two theories and listed evidence to why I think that. Now that I have finished re-watching through episode 11, I think I'm backing off my Joke is a stalker theory. I'm not throwing it out completely, but I don't think that's what's happening here.

There's also something happening with Joke, Zo and the Clytie and Sunflower myth that Zo reads to Nita in episode 3. Zo is repeatedly conflated with the sun/sunshine - he has a sunset painting in his kitchen, Joke photoshopped Zo's face on a sun and said Zo is his sunshine. Joke is conflated with sunflowers - he gives them to Zo over and over. They do switch this role once each - Zo paints a sunflower on his ceramic vase in episode 3 and in episode 11, Joke tells Zo that he (Joke) is Zo's sunshine. To me, that also makes Joke Clytie, the one who was abandoned by someone they loved, who was just waiting for them to come back.

All of this in mind, here's the theory I've centered on: Joke did something bad in high school; his parents paid (or used other means) to get him out of any trouble he was in and it caused a huge fallout in their relationship. Oh, and it happened on Joke's birthday.

So with this new theory in mind, I'm going to go back through all the evidence I posted in the previous post and add it to this one, plus include evidence from the later episodes.

Episode 1:

In the flashback to the Freshy Contest, while Joke is scolding(?) Zo, he says, “What you said on that stage won’t change a broken system.”

Episode 2:

Joke tells Zo, “My tongue gets me in trouble.”

When Joke and Zo are debating about hidden agendas in relationships, Joke asks why he should tell someone things when he starts dating them because he should be able to tell things in his own time.

Episode 3:

Joke says “Before you get to know someone, you need to know yourself.”

Joke also asks/tells Zo to trust him for the first time.

Joke talks about the Triangular Theory of Love: Passion, Intimacy and Commitment

Joke is pretty worried when Zo crashes his bike and makes Zo ride with him instead.

Joke mentions that he used to go to the restaurant Zo picked out with his dad, back when they used to go out to eat; this suggests a distance between him and his dad.

During dinner, Joke says that “What you see of someone may not be the whole story,” and “Stay true to yourself.”

In the library, Joke tells Zo “I would never let someone I love face danger alone.”

The next day, Zo is sitting outside when Joke finds him and says that Zo wasn’t answering his calls. and it’s implied he was searching for Zo because he was worried.

Joke invites himself on Zo’s trip as if he’s afraid if Zo leaves without him, something bad will happen.

Episode 4:

Joke tells Zo he couldn’t leave Zo “alone and sad” and “I’ll never abandon you”

Joke also says “I only care for those who care for me.”

Joke is afraid of the glass bridge but he’s also to worried to let Zo go out on the bridge by himself.

After dinner, Joke says “Sometimes people don’t show all their cards.”

Episode 6:

Joke gifts Zo a sunflower pillow and tells him to look up the meaning, Zo searches up “liveliness sprung from despair.”

Joke insists on picking up Zo so Zo doesn’t go out in the rain/worried about his health.

Kot doesn’t seem to like Joke and extremely overreacts to the way Joke trying to get Zo to eat the food he bought. Now, Joke was maybe a little pushy, but Kot goes off the handle.

When cuddling in bed, Joke says “hugging for 30s releases Oxytocin” and if they hug longer, “it means we feel the same.”

Episode 7:

At the amusement park, Joke mentions he has fond memories of the park because he went with his grandma back in high school (implies the break or disconnect with his family occurred then).

Talk of changing bad memories to good ones (re: Puen)

Joke says "I've never seen so much blood and gore in my life" regarding the haunted house.

Joke's grandma tells Joke that any potential partner needs to be a "fighter".

When his motorcycle breaks down and Zo is surprised Joke can fix it, Joke says "when you love something you learn to take care of it"

Zo says that Joke "sounds like a life coach"

When dropping Zo off, Joke hugs him and says "it's been awhile since I hugged anyone besides my grandma" (ouch, just ouch)

When Joke can't get a hold of Zo, he panics and get the landlady to open Zo's door and is freaked out to find Zo asleep on the floor.

Joke and Zo take day off and make something that looks like vases and Zo paints a sunflower on his.

Despite Joke having a temper, he lets Zo handle Puen how he sees fit.

Episode 8:

Zo comments that Joke "spouts Hallmark lines"

When Zo tells Joke that he and Poom are going to Zo's room for school work, Joke asks "is he trustworthy?"

Joke gets a package of creepy pics (via Jeng) and races to find Zo.

Joke says "I'll take care of you" to Zo

When Joke, Zo and Nita bust Poom, Zo has to pull Joke off Poom.

Joke tells Zo "don't trust strangers too easily" and "if something comes up, we always talk"

Episode 9:

Joke asks "what will I do without you for three months" when Zo says he has to go home for break.

Joke wants three calls a day and a video chat before bed every night (that's a lot, Joke, damn)

Joke tells Jeng "you might regret it one day when you turn around and [Pok's] not there"

In the flashback to the Freshy Contest, Joke is sitting alone outside, looking melancholy when Zo approaches.

Zo offers to take Joke's place in the contest and asks if Joke is okay.

Joke says "no one should be forced to do anything" and "you're the first person to ask what I wanted"

Joke says he won't lie or hide anything during his apology

Zo insists "no silence, no hiding, no secrets"

Episode 10:

Joke is supposed to spend his birthday with his Grandma (Jeng is taking Joke's parents out to dinner).

Joke worries about Zo.

Zo's mom chooses "childhood trauma from parental conflicts results in troubled adults"

Zo quotes statistic of "50% of people with family conflicts commit crimes"

Joke tells Zo "your family and mine are not so different" and it's his "happiest birthday"

(holy time jump Batman - I guess three months have passed between leaving Zo's and the debate club scene)

We get the Wave and Trin back story but the most important part to me was Zo asking "was hitting someone the answer?"

Episode 11:

Joke advises his parents are not coming to the debate, he texted their family group chat and "got left on read"

Joke's family just rolls up to his apartment (does grandma have a key then?) and they just hang out waiting for Joke

Joke's dad films Joke's mom and grandma watching the competition video

Jeng comes by and says Joke is out with friends celebrating and Joke's dad says "it's good Joke is with friends"

Joke's dad sends the video of mom and grandma to Joke

With the preview for episode 12 alluding to more issues between Joke and his family, Joke's proven temper, his aloofness around people, his propensity to speak like he's been to therapy and his extreme concern over Zo, I think that something bad happened and Joke was the cause. His family/money/connections got him out of it, but he's angry and his family and him had a falling out (except for grandma). Abandoned by everything, he was left alone and in pain until he met Zo, his sun.

That is what is hidden in Hidden Agenda, and it was right in front of our faces the whole time.

[blackjackkent]

OK, I think I can finish up Rakha's Underdark adventures tonight and get ready to roll into Act 2 with her, which is exciting.

It's funny, bc I felt like I was moving MUCH slower with her than I did with Hector in the early bits of the game, but now the second half of Act 1 feels like it's speeding by. (Mostly this is because I know where everything is now, for the most part, so there are fewer posts of me exploring and looting random boxes. XD )

Quick chats with all the gnomes we rescued, sort of in passing by virtue of killing Nere. They're very grateful and try to offer rewards to Rakha, and also LOOK WHO'S HERE!

HI BARCUS!

"Make it quick! We need to find Wulbren, now!"

"You're a little late, Barcus my lad. He's already been sent to Moonrise Towers. We were just slave-hands to the cult, but not Wulbren. He... knows things. Things they want to know too."

"What has he gotten himself mixed up in now..."

Rakha has already met Barcus once, and it's actually a relatively positive memory for her; it was one of the earliest points where she ended up turning her violent instincts in a purposeful direction to help someone (although she wasn't really thinking clearly about it like that at the time yet).

Barcus himself she was mostly perplexed by, but he didn't irritate her. And she does remember him talking about looking for his friend Wulbren in the Underdark, so none of this is particularly a surprise.

She is curious about Beldron's description of Wulbren as a leader with special knowledge, though, which leads to what might be one of the most specifically Rakha-ish dialogue options we've had so far:

[INTIMIDATION] "I also like to know things. Start talking."

"You'll call me mad," Beldron says fretfully. "But... fine. Wulbren's found the formula for runepowder."

"What?" yelps Barcus.

"Aye. The explosive of Gaerdal Ironhand's own creation. Fistfuls wiping out armies, all those old stories. Only Wulbren couldn't leave the stories be, so he went and bloody found it. A small supply, tucked away down here with a manuscript. He'd just made sense of the formula when the cult jumped us, so he burned the damn thing. If there's a single copy left, it's sitting in his head. Those Absolutists pull it out and make runepowder... they could flatten the whole of the Sword Coast."

Ah. This explains the woman with the cask of powder up at the top of the ruins - and why she was so loathe to give up her prize. This Wulbren is clearly highly intelligent, and his dangerous knowledge is in the cult's hands.

Rakha already intends on destroying the cult for her own personal reasons, but now she can add "not blowing up" to them. (And saving Wulbren, perhaps, should the occasion present.)

"How long do you think he can hold out?" she asks bluntly.

"Not long enough," Beldron says gravely. "My people can barely stand, and we have business back in the city. That business is whawt sent us after the powder to begin with. Now we'll have to make other arrangements."

Barcus's eyes widen in alarm. "And just like that, you'd leave Wulbren behind? I knew you lot were foolish, but I didn't know you were cruel!"

Beldron smirks, and it's not a kind expression. "If you knew half as much as you think, my lad, Wulbren might have kept you around."

There is some interpersonal undercurrent happening in this conversation, and Rakha frankly could not care less about it - although she does notice the way Barcus's head snaps back as if the words were a punch.

"Run away, then," she says with a faint shrug. "I have my own business to be about."

Beldron nods, all business now. "My people will find somewhere to regroup across the lake," he says. "Then on to the city. If you find yourself in Baldur's Gate, seek us out. We'll raise a glass to Wulbren together."

Rakha has considerable doubt that that will be a top priority for her any time soon, so she just shrugs.

-----

Barcus, to his credit, makes an effort to smile and shake off the conversation as Beldron walks away, and looks up at Rakha with visible admiration. "Well," he says brightly. "You did it! I shouldn't be surprised, considering our history. And yet..."

Rakha finds that she is far more unsettled by that admiration than by almost anything else that has happened in this place.

"I did," she says uneasily. "But not out of the kindness of my heart." I don't know how to do that...

Barcus blinks; apparently he interprets this as a request for coin rather than a self-deprecating comment on Rakha's interpersonal skills. "I have no coin," he says good-humoredly, "but the foreman will be happy to provide."

He lets out a heavy breath and absently toes his boot against the cracked stonework. "As you know, some of the Ironhand gnomes - my friend Wulbren among them - have been taken prisoner in Moonrise Towers. They're not even going after him. I wish I were surprised," he mutters. A pause, and then he squares his shoulders deliberately. "And so... to Moonrise Towers I go."

He's brave, this little one. She'll say that for him. His loyalty to this Wulbren reminds her of that which she has slowly cultivated for her companions.

He's also kind to her without cause - which gives her complicated feelings. Wyll is like that - but so was Ethel.

"I believe I'm destined for the Towers as well," she says noncommittally. "I'll look for your friends." Especially if their presence means we might all explode.

Barcus lifts his chin and narrows his eyes intently. "Friend. Singular," he says firmly. "I'm looking for Wulbren. If anyone else should be incidentally helped, then bully for them."

To everyone's astonishment - not least Rakha's herself - she suddenly grins harshly. Yes. He does think like her indeed - because she might have said the same, had one of her companions been taken by the cult.

She offers him a place at their camp, since he's going the same way, which is surprising as well. On some level, perhaps, she didn't expect him to accept.