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mrchiipchrome · 8 months ago

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Talkin' 'Bout My Girl

W.C. - 6.3 k

Warnings: throwing up ig?

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Lucy’s calling, answer me, Lucy’s answer me.

Your phone blasts the annoying ringtone Lucy had created the latest time you’d met her, she’d insisted on having a unique one so that you’d answer all her calls. Spoiler alert: you didn’t answer all her calls.

Groaning loudly as your sleep is interrupted by the older woman calling you, she obviously didn’t think about the fact that you were in a totally different time zone and therefore calling you at 7 in the morning wasn’t a good idea.

“Fucking hell Luce, why’re you calling me at 7 in the fucking morning?” You can hear the way she laughs at your grumpy tone and how she sucks in a breath after a second or two. Well at least one of you was enjoying yourselves.

“Ou, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today, did the grumpy wittle baby not get her 8 hours of sleep tonight?” She teases through the phone, the rustling of your sheets as you sit up echoing through the room that’s practically empty, like a hollowed out coconut.

“Actually, since you woke me up at 7, I did in fact barely even get 4 hours since Em dragged me away to a party in Connecticut, got wasted and then made me drive us both home.” This just makes the older woman laugh even more. For some reason, you thought that she’d be a bit more responsible and tell you off for going to a party, but she didn’t.

“Well that’s good then, Em is finally making you go through college the correct way, by going to parties.” You groan loudly as you stretch out the tightness in your limbs, the headache that appears soon goes away just as quickly. The floor is cold beneath your feet as you stand up from the bed, dragging your hand over your face before slapping yourself a few times to really wake up.

“Yeah, the proper college experience or something like that.” Lucy hums at your statement, her usually thoughtless brain quickly reforming to its usual state.

“Mhm, well I’ll call tonight then, don’t sleep too late.” You say goodbye to the defender quickly before she hangs up the phone, venturing into the kitchen to pull open the door of the fridge, substituting a warm cup of bitter coffee for an energy drink.

“You’re going to be my best friend the coming four years, aren't you?” You look at the ice cold can in your hand as you speak, smiling sarcastically as you pop the tab open and take a swig, the weird aftertaste of pure caffeine leaving a streak down your tongue.

“Fucking hell, why do I not have anything at home?” As you look into the empty pantry, you suddenly understand why you should’ve taken Em’s advice earlier in the week, ‘fill your kitchen up like you have a whole family to feed’. Apparently a whole family equaled a drunk Em.

Peeking into the living room, you immediately see Em fast asleep on the couch, half her body hanging off the small piece of furniture like she was some drunk dad in a movie. Her mouth is wide open and the snores escaping from between her lips are just brutal.

Her party clothes from the night before are still donning her body, the dress barely staying intact after a night of tossing and turning to find a comfortable fit on the uncomfortable couch. But at least she’s not throwing up in the bathroom, so that's a plus.

You sigh, the quiet patting of your bare feet hitting the floor reaching your ears, fingers wrapping around the discarded blanket laying on the floor beside her on the floor and pulling it up to cover her body. She shifts underneath it, mumbling incoherently at you.

“Thanks mom.” You giggle at her sleepy presumption and she grumbles before turning her back to you like a moody teenager.

“Not your mum Em, but no problem anyway.” Walking back to the kitchen, you quickly find your phone before going to look for your wallet in your room, the sleek black leather laying on the floor beneath your mattress.

“Okay, just got to swing by the kitchen again then I’m off.” You mumble to yourself, patting your sleep shorts to see that you had everything you needed with you. The old Arsenal shorts from your time in the academy and the brief time you’d spent in the first team were the first things you’d packed for your move to America.

The comfort of home you supposed.

The simple t-shirt you had on was a Harvard one you’d gotten practically the first day on campus, the small ‘sports’ being printed just beneath the massive lettering of Harvard across your chest. It’s still warm enough outside to not need a jacket, you think to yourself, the sun shining brightly in the sky.

Picking up your can when you pass by the kitchen, you quickly make your way towards the door, finding the keys to your car hanging on the small hook meant for jackets. The metal ring you put them on clinks as you pull your keys off the hook, pulling your shoes over your bare feet before you turn the lock with a satisfying click, unlocking the door before disappearing out of it. Your key turns in the lock as you close the door, effectively securing Em inside the apartment.

The nice old lady living in the flat beside your own walks out of her door at the same time you do yours, her kind smile immediately filling you with a comforting warmth, her grandmotherly energy enveloping you fully, almost transforming you back into that little kid who would sit and wait for your gran to read a bedtime story.

“Hello dear, what are you doing up so early?” Her southern accent makes her words almost unintelligible, but you understand them either way, nothing was worse than drunk Em trying to speak. The large Newfoundland dog wagging his tail beside her yaps excitedly as he notices you, his entire body wiggling.

“Oh I’m off to the bakery to get some pastries, Em got really drunk at a party yesterday and I don’t have anything for breakfast, so bread and pastries it is.” She looks amusedly at you, despite only having been neighbours for about two or so weeks, it was like the older woman had seen both you and Em grow up the entirety of your lives.

“Yeah that does sound like Em, don’it.” You laugh along with her, walking closer to pet Bubba who jumped at you as soon as you were close enough for him. “Bubba, no, you know we don’t jump on people.”

Laughing at the gentle giant, your hands soon tangle in his soft fur, giving him a bunch of kisses.

“Oh Mrs. Peters, you know it’s his fault that he gets so excited, he’s just a little baby.” She rolls her eyes fondly at you and her dog, a simple tug of his leash making the fluffy dog go back to his owner. Moving towards the stairs you quickly turn back to ask her;

“Mrs. Peters, do you want anything from the bakery?” She smiles but shakes her head, signaling that she doesn't want anything, before she enters the elevator and disappears from your line of sight.

You hum the tune to the song playing in your headphones as you walk down the stairs quickly, arms nearly tied to your body as you make your way down to the bottom floor of the building. The last step is one you jump over, walking over to the door that opens almost automatically and exiting the building completely.

The rays of the brightly shining sun hit your face as soon as you step out into the warm weather, Frank Ocean’s soft voice floating through your headphones as you walk, the wind blowing onto your exposed arms.

It wasn’t often that people would just walk through the neighbourhood just to appreciate the scenery, to appreciate the nature and the small things that often seemed unimportant when living in such a fast tracked life as you did.

But you couldn’t just ignore the beauty in the simple things, the beauty in the small flowers growing along the road, the beauty in the gravel crunching under your feet as you walked, the warmth of the sun against your skin and the cooling effect of the wind.

It was all so beautiful, the calm and simple beauty.

You could find beauty in everything you saw, if you knew where to look for it, the soft smile on the mother’s face as she watched her toddler climb on the structure, the bird chirping as you pass it by, the old man sitting on a park bench.

The world wasn’t as bad as people thought it was, they just hadn’t looked at it the right way.

The chime of the bell hanging above the door takes you back to only hours before, when you’d been at the diner with the divine girl, Nika. God, she was the embodiment of beauty, Aphrodite reborn as a human.

The local bakery is well known among students, professors and newcomers alike, everyone knows about the bakery with the best pastries in the whole of Boston. Knowing that, it’s not even close to surprising when the line to the register reaches across the room, looking up at the menu of sorts to see what you want to pass the time.

There’s music flowing out the speakers, covering the low sound of people speaking to each other with its instrumental cling. You didn’t mind it though, it made everything just feel more real in a sense, there was no telling why, you don’t even get a chance at trying to figure it out as your phone starts ringing again, though this time it wasn’t Lucy’s voice ringing out, instead it was the infamous song of Arsenal, The Angel aka North London forever.

“Lee, to what do I owe the pleasure of a call? Did Spurs win?” You were both Arsenal through and through, but you always liked to tease her about her being a Spurs fan, the arch rivals of Arsenal being one of the things the older woman hated the most.

“Thank god, they didn’t win. No, I’m just calling to check up on you, ask how you’re settling in and all that.” She tries to be nonchalant in her tone, but having known the blonde for as long as you had, you knew that there was something more to it. Thankfully, the line’s length has barely changed since the second you walked in, so there’s plenty of time to figure out what she’s playing at.

“Leah, what do you really want? I know you as well as you know yourself.” When you hear her sigh you pump your fist in the air triumphantly, getting more than a few judgy looks and glances from the people around you.

“Well, Jordy and I are having a bit of an argument right, and as our unofficial kid we need you to settle this.” You nod before you realize that she can’t see you, quickly replying verbally.

“What’s the arguing about?” She almost cuts you off with the speed at which she responds at, the smallest giggle to her tone giving you the impression that the matter at hand wasn’t as serious as she’d first made it out to be.

“Who do you think Blu loves the most?” Giving it a second before you answer to give the illusion that you actually thought about it, you can almost imagine the smile on her face, thinking that you’re going to back her.

“Neither of you, Blu loves me the most.” Leah lets out an offended gasp at your statement, and you can hear Jordan’s laugh in the back for a second before a playful slap can be heard. On your side of the line, only a giggle can be heard with the simple murmuring of day to day life in the background.

“That’s only because you give him so many treats.” The blonde groans at you, but you just smile smugly in return, not that she could see.

“It sucks to suck doesn’t it, Lee.” The line of people in front of you gets smaller and smaller with every passing minute as people order, with there only being around five or so people in front of you now.

“Well I wouldn’t know much about sucking, right Jord?” When you finally catch on to what she’s insinuating, you gag, not even caring that there are tens of people around you who can hear.

“Ew, I don’t need to know about what you two get up to in your spare time.” The sentence is whispered, not wanting to embarrass yourself even more than you already had. “Listen, I’ve got to go, I’m about to order some pastries for me and Em so I’ll call you back later.”

By now you’re nearly at the front of the line, about to get what you came for. But they didn’t seem to want to end the call, nor the teasing they were putting you through.

“Ooh, does your girlfriend want a sweet breakfast?” If the two could see you they’d guaranteed to be laughing their heads off, the look of pure disgust on your face simply hilarious.

“Em’s not my girlfriend, even the thought of that is just like ew.” You shudder when you think about it, the girl had quickly become one of your closest friends and to even entertain the idea of being with her romantically was just gross.

“So you’re just buying her breakfast platonically?” Rolling your eyes at the conversation, you quickly plaster a smile on your face as you reach the counter.

“Hi, I’d like four croissants and a caramel coffee.” The cashier’s name tag reads ‘Amelie’, the girl looking at you confused as if she doesn’t understand what you’re saying. The women on the other side of the phone snicker and if you weren’t raised the way you were, you would’ve hung up by now.

“A caramel coffee? You mean a caramel macchiato?” She questions dryly, like she really doesn’t enjoy her work.

“Yeah let’s go with that.” You pull out your wallet from your pocket, fishing the card out whilst trying your very hardest to not drop the phone sitting in the space between your head and your shoulder.

“That’ll be 14 dollars.” Blipping your card against the side of the maschine, the transaction goes through without a problem thankfully. You smile at the girl again as she tells you that your order will be ready soon, and as you walk over to sit down at a table you can hear the kissy noises they’re making.

“Did you two just collectively decide not to hear me say ‘me and Em’, the idiot got wasted last night and I don’t have anything at home, courtesy of that drunk idiot. So me being the great friend that I am, decided that it was better to get breakfast than having to deal with a hangry and hungover Em.” You can hear the way they let out sounds of realization, understanding what you mean.

“Hey, why didn’t you bring us treats when we were hungover?” Leah asks, apparently offended that you hadn’t done this for them.

“Well, you two never took me out to parties so I never knew when you were hungover.” Despite them not being able to see it, you shrug absentmindedly, it wasn’t your fault that you didn’t get to go with them.

“Fair enough.”

“Listen, I’ll call you back later, I’ve got to carry everything home and I only have two hands, so.” The two say goodbye before hanging up, and you slip your phone back into your pocket as you walk up to the counter, taking the paper bag with you as you walk out into the warm weather again.

The walk back home is just as peaceful as the walk to the bakery, maybe the usual Boston had decided to take a break for just a day. Well whatever it was, you were thankful for it, your sleep deprived mind couldn’t handle much more than it already had.

When the lock clicks and you open the door, you’re met with the sound of groaning coming from the kitchen. Taking off your shoes at the entrance, you hang your keys back on the designated hook before you move towards the kitchen.

Peeking around the corner and into the kitchen, you quickly find the source of the noise. Because Em was standing in the middle of the room, banging her head against the counter clearly in quite a bit of pain.

Why she was hitting her head against the counter then, you didn’t know, it’s completely irrational. But if that’s what she wanted to do then you’d let her, it wasn’t really any of your business.

“Em? What are you doing?” She looks up at you when she hears your voice, her gaze murderous, her hands in her hair, massaging her head like it was the last thing she’d ever do.

“Oh, grumpy you’re finally home, where have you been and why did you let me drink so much last night?” She groans out from between clenched teeth, your laugh filling the room pitifully within seconds at her words. It is funny after all, it was Em herself who insisted on drinking last night and her suffering the consequences of her actions was hilarious.

“I was out being an amazing friend and getting us both some breakfast.” You place the bag on top of the counter, almost right in front of Em’s face, but when she makes the motion of grabbing the bag and consuming the contents, you snatch it from the counter.

The older girl whines at your actions, her head coming down against the marble countertops again, the repetitive thumping annoying you more than you’d like to admit.

“Listen, I didn’t spend 14 dollars just for you to throw it back up. Off you go, get ready and for god’s sake please do not throw up in my living room.” Putting your hands on the back of her shoulders, you gently lead her all the way out of the room and into your bathroom, sitting her in front of the toilet before going back to the kitchen. “Oh, I talked to Luce earlier, she wants to thank you for making me ‘experience college the right way’.”

Emma lets out a groan that sounds like a hybrid of a hawk getting piped and the death whistle, was getting praised by THE Lucy Bronze really worth the terrible hangover? Only Em could answer that, and she was currently hanging over the seat of your toilet, puking her guts up.

You can hear Em flushing and then moving to the sink, turning the tap on and taking some into her mouth, swirling the water around. Her bare feet slap disturbingly against the wooden floor as she makes her way towards the kitchen, your back turned towards her as she comes up behind you, her arm slinging around your shoulders.

“Wait, Luce? Luce as in Lucy Bronze? Lucy Bronze, the three time Champions League winner?” You shrug at her, turning back around to face the rest of the kitchen with Em hot on your heels.

“Yeah, I mean knowing her is not impressive.” Em’s wide eyes suggest a different story, her hands coming up to lay on your shoulders as she shakes your body back and forth.

“Wait, you know THE Lucy Bronze?” Taking her hands off your shoulders, you push the coffee cup into her free hand and a croissant into her other one. She nods thankfully before she hops up and sits on the counter, the small bag being placed between your bodies as you sit beside her on the counter.

“Did I forget to tell you that? And also why would she call me if we didn’t know each other?” Your eyebrows knit together, thinking back to all the conversations you and Em had over the past two and a half weeks.

“UH yeah, how do you know the best defender in the world?” The brunette girl slaps your shoulder playfully, studying your side profile out the corner of her eye. You look back at her in the exact same way, a small almost unknown smile on your face.

“Our mums knew each other, I’ve known Lucy since I was in diapers. And besides, I wasn’t the only one out here hiding family.” Raising your eyebrows accusingly, the girl beside you gives you a look of perplexion, not understanding what you mean by the statement.

“What do you mean?” She asks, her feet swinging off the edge, nearly smacking against your cabinet doors every time.

“I mean your scary older brother that you never told me about.” You say matter of factly, pointing at her with a ‘you know who I’m talking about’ look. The ‘ahhh’ sound that escapes her lips when she realizes who you’re talking about sounds out through the kitchen, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

“Oh, Cal? Cal’s not scary, he looks like the rat from flushed away. Oh and that reminds me, you have to come with me to this dinner he invited me to next week. No way I’m third wheeling all night long with him and his latest girlfriend.” The snort you let out is involuntary, the American girl’s description of her brother very vivid, and hopefully correct. It wasn’t like you’d seen her brother ever before, so you didn’t actually know what he looked like.

“Yeah sure I’ll help you feel less single, but no hand holding and no pretending to be together.” You look at her pointedly, making your point totally clear, no fake dating, that never turned out right. Em nods her head as she shrugs, as if to tell you ‘fair enough’.

“No way that I’d go out with you anyways, you’re far too grumpy for my liking. Maybe you can set me up with one of your mates in England.” Her hand covers her mouth so that she doesn’t laugh at your horrified expression, clearly you’re disturbed at the mere thought of Boston Tea Party part two happening if they ever broke up.

“One Boston tea party is enough mate, we don’t need another.” The sip of coffee that Em had just taken covers basically the entirety of your kitchen in a single second, the girl beside you spitting it out in surprise. “Em, come on. I’m not cleaning that up just so you know.”

Jumping down from the counter, you nearly slip on Em’s newly spit out coffee, only escaping the sticky mess by a millimeter. Her laughter clings out through the apartment, and Em makes sure to let you know that she’s sorry by telling you through her bouts of laughter.

“Look under the sink, you’ll find what you need under there.” The sound of the cabinet door opening can be heard from where you’re standing in the middle of the living room, picking up all the various things littered around the space.

“Girl, why do you have everything under here except paper towels?” The brunette calls out for you, and you shake your head in amusement at her, there was no way that Em hadn’t thought about looking in any other cabinet than the one she had her head stuck in at the moment.

“Look in the compartment above, see if you’ll find them there.” You get the confirmation that she’s found it when she lets out a short ‘aha’, you can almost imagine the way her head hits the corner of the sink when she gets up, the loud ‘fuck that hurt’ being very telling.

“You okay?” Looking around the wall in the direction of the kitchen, you see Em sticking her hand out, the thumb sticking up telling you that she was fine.

It didn’t take as long as either of you had thought to clean the kitchen up, only a few minutes and even less to clean the mess in the living room. Soon enough, the television was turned on and the two of you were sitting in silence watching the looney tunes.

“Do you think the duck piped the rabbit or is it the other way ‘round?” Em questions, her tone completely serious, as if she wasn’t asking the craziest question ever.

“Uh I don’t think Bugs Bunny piped Daffy Duck.” Looking at her incredulously, she only responds with a shrug, her theory about the two cartoon animals being shot down almost immediately.

“Well they do have sexual tension that’s for sure.” She states matter of factly, pointing at you like you would agree. Spoiler alert: you didn’t agree at all.

“Mate what goes even on in your head?” You ask her, looking at her as if she belonged in a mental institution. Em scratches her head nonchalantly, stretching out her legs and placing her feet in your lap. “Do you not have anywhere to be?”

“Like where?” She asks, her words coming out mumbled as she’s biting her nails, chewing on the bits before she spits them out. When she looks at you she sees the judgemental look on your face, stopping what she’s doing with no real sense of urgency.

“I don’t know, maybe at home? Do you not have like a hundred plants that need to be watered?” She springs up from the couch, running to the entrance where she puts her shoes on before she shouts out a quick ‘bye’ and runs out the house.

“What is she on?” You laugh through the sentence, the pure hilarity and absurdity of most situations involving your newest best friend making you laugh more often than not.

With Em being in and out of your apartment practically every day, the week leading up to the dinner with her brother and his ‘newest’ girlfriend passes by extremely fast, feeling more like a day than a week.

“Em, what am I supposed to wear? Is it like a fancy restaurant or more chill?” You shout from your room, Em changing into her clothes in the living room. The clothing hangers click against each other as you look through the clothes you’d managed to put up over the past few weeks, many different button ups and a few normal t-shirts.

“You’re asking me this 10 minutes before we go?!” She shouts back, surprised that you’re not already finished dressing yourself and getting ready, seeing as you were the first one out the house normally.

“Yeah, I just realized that I never asked you what to wear.” You shrug to no one in particular, seeing as you were the only one present in your room.

“Didn’t your parents take you to a bunch of dinners with their clients?” Em’s voice carries through the walls, especially with the woman coming closer and closer to your door.

“I’ve been to a fair few, but in my defense I’ve always had stylists helping me so putting together outfits isn’t really one of my strong points.” Pulling out a few items of clothing, you hold them up so that they’re almost exclusively in your line of sight, looking to see if they’d match.

“Fair enough, it’s not too fancy, just wear that linen shirt and some of your fancy pants.” She peeks her head into the room, looking at where you’re standing in your jeans, seemingly debating whether to wear the simple white button down or a Harvard t-shirt.

“Trousers?” You raise your eyebrow cheekily at the brunette, a small teasing smile on your face.

“Yeah yeah, you know what I mean.” Emma rolls her eyes at you whilst you place the two articles of clothing back into your closet, the hangers clicking easily against the pole they’re hooked on.

“I do, I just like to annoy you.” Hearing the door click closed, you pull the linen shirt off its hangar and pull it over your head before you unbutton your jeans and pull the ‘fancy pants’ over your legs. Buttoning up the various buttons on the slacks, you quickly tuck your shirt in before opening the door and tapping Em on her head as you pass her.

“Shut up man.” You look back at Em when you reach the entrance, picking out your fanciest pairs of shoes to show her.

“Those look good?” She studies them for a second or two before nodding diligently, pulling on a pair of relatively fancy shoes too.

“They’re better than your beat up sneakers at least.” She shrugs at your offended look, almost telling you that it’s only fair since they are beat up.

“They still have at least two, three years left in them alright. There’s no need for new ones if they work just fine.” For the second time that day, you take your keys off the hook in the hall, letting Em walk out the open door before you so that you can lock everything up.

“Are we finally taking your car?” She asks, seeing the little metal key on your keychain with hers nowhere in sight. Normally you were insistent on taking hers as your baby was almost priceless, a reminder of home that you’d come to love over the past week, seeing as you’d gotten it shortly after signing your first professional contract.

“Yeah, I need to impress your brother, right?” Smirking cheekily over your shoulder, you see Em smiling widely at you as the lock on the door clicks closed, waiting for you to follow her into the elevator.

“Can I-” She starts off, the cool air in the lift making the hair on your arms raise, the skin becoming all prickly like that of a goose.

“No.” You can see the way Em pouts almost like a petulant child through the mirror, her arms crossed over her chest as she glares at you.

“You don’t even know what I was about to ask you.” Raising a single eyebrow at her, you look down at her through the corner of your eye, like you did more often than you were willing to admit.

“No, but I do know you and that’s enough, no one other than me will ever drive my car.” The late afternoon sun glows bright orange like hot coals as the two of you step out into the humid air, the garage not too far away from the building’s entrance. Picking out the right key, you quickly unlock the door before pulling it up, revealing the gorgeous red ‘67 Mustang that Em always wanted you to drive.

The girl in question wolf whistles when she sees the car, a hand coming up to shelter her eyes from the sun beaming into them, moving towards you with slow steps. Walking into the garage, you motion for the other girl to open the door on the passenger side as you plop down into the driver’s seat.

You don’t have to feel around for very long to find the ignition, as you push the clinking keys in, smiling satisfied as the motor revs up loudly. Applying a small amount of pressure to the gaspedal, it’s not long until you’ve navigated your way out of the garage successfully and pulled onto the main road.

Pulling the seat belt over your body as soon as you’ve made it out to the main road, you waste no time in pulling your sunglasses out of their compartment and putting them over your eyes so as to not get completely blinded by the sun.

“Okay, give me the rundown of your brother, likes and dislikes, hobbies, aspirations, all the basic knowledge apart from him looking like the rat from flushed away.” Tapping your fingers against the steering wheel, you peek down at the phone that’s currently giving you directions for the restaurant, the beautiful nature almost mesmerizing.

“His full name is Callum Adam Whitmore, he’s 23 years old and he plays basketball for UConn. He likes sports, hitting on anything that has a pulse, pretending he knows how to play the guitar and pretentiously explaining movies. He dislikes losing, being told no by our parents and me on a few occasions. Hobbies are partying and gaming, aspires to go to the NBA. That’s all.” Em lists, giving you all the information you need to adequately make the assumption that Callum Adam Whitmore is kind of an arse.

“Well he sounds…nice?” There’s no denying how questionable you sound, clearly not believing the words coming out of your own mouth. Em looks at you over the tops of her own glasses, giving you a skeptical look.

“No he doesn’t, he’s an ass and to use the correct terminology, a fuckboy.” Em pushes her glasses up higher on the bridge of her nose, turning the knobs on the inbuilt stereo for it to start playing music, ‘My Girl’ by The Temptations flowing softly out the speakers.

“Sing with me grumpy! I’ve got so much honey, the bees envy me, I’ve got a sweeter song, than the birds in the trees.” She sings loudly, her hands gesturing for you to join her in singing as you shake your head, a small smile on your face at her antics. “Come on, sing it man! I guess you’d say, what can make me feel this way?”

Finally relenting at the last second possible, you join the older girl in song happily.

“My girl, my girl, my girl, talkin’ ‘bout my girl.” Tapping along to the beat just as the last note of the song rings out, you pull into the parking lot of the restaurant, effectively ending the little karaoke session you were participating in.

“Holy shit man, that went so fast.” Em pats your shoulder as you pull into a parking space at the corner of the big parking lot, taking the keys out of the ignition before you fold your sunglasses and place them back into their compartment.

“Perks of having a really fast car.” Waiting from the brunette to step out of the car, you don’t waste a second in locking up the extremely expensive piece of machinery. You take a second to fix your hair in the rear view mirror, even though you don’t really know why, there wasn’t really anyone in that restaurant to impress now that you knew that Em’s brother was a total ass, but your instinct told you to.

“Can you hurry up?” The girl in question asks from her place in front of the restaurant door and you send her a sarcastic smile in response, half running half walking up to her.

She doesn’t say anything as she pushes the door open, in fact she doesn’t say anything until you two reach the hostess stand where she tells the worker the name of the reservation.

As the worker leads the two of you over to the table there’s a million different thoughts running through your head, why were you nervous? Why did it feel like your stomach was about to explode? Why were there so many tables in the restaurant?

You only really tune back into the real world around you when Em pinches your side, her head turned towards a table with a man sitting alone, presumably her brother. The man stands up and walks around the table to reach your side, bringing your friend into a familial embrace, before he turns to you and sticks his hand out.

There’s no avoiding the sense of deja vu you get from the action, remembering the girl from the party almost a week ago who’d done the exact same thing, but then again it was the most common form of introducing yourself.

“Cal Whitmore.” His voice is on the deeper side, not Darth Vader deep but definitely on the deeper side of the spectrum. His calloused hand grips onto yours in a confident handshake, fingers gripping onto yours harder than needed, which fits the cocky description Em had put forth.

“Y/n Y/l/n.” You smile staley at him, the man moving back to his side of the table as you pull out the chair for the girl beside you, only sitting down when she’s settled.

“So, where’s your darling date Cal?” Em asks her older brother teasingly, looking around the restaurant like she’d appear just out of anywhere.

“Calm yourself Em, she went to wash her hands.” He leans back in his chair cockily, his eyes glued to the backside of one of the waitresses passing by like some horny teenage boy.

“You know what, he does kind of look like the rat from Flushed Away.” You lean in closer to Em as you whisper, studying the man’s face carefully and noticing increasing similarities between the stopmotion rat and the tall man.

“Em, what the fuck, have you been telling people that I look like the rat from Flushed Away again? I don’t look like the fucking rat from Flushed Away, stop telling people that.” He looks at the girl beside you in disappointment, his thin lips turning down quickly. Well that was until a sweet voice cut in, a soft hand with fingers adorned with rings placed on his shoulder, moving down to his chest softly.

“What has she done now?” That accented voice was familiar, and as your eyes trail up from the stranger's hand to her chest and then lastly to her face you soon realize why it was so damn familiar. The careful upwards tug of her lips to the slight curls of her hair and the furrow in her brow, there was no denying that the girl standing before you was someone you recognized.

Fucking hell, you’d just taken your best friend’s brother’s girlfriend out on a date a mere week before meeting him officially. You were officially fucked.

#woso #woso x reader #lionesses #barcelona femeni #woso imagines #leah williamson x reader #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze #nika muhl x reader #nika muhl #uconn wbb #wbb x reader #10/10 series

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wood-white-writer · 1 year ago

Text

"Didn't mean to make your heart Blue" || [6/...]

— OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader

“On sunny days I go out walking, I end up on a tree-lined street. I look up at the gaps of sunlight. I miss you more than anything."

— Mitski, "Francis Forever"

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live action) x F!Reader

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends. The crew arrives at the Baratie, and several things go down in a matter of hours. Decisions are made, both stupid and not so stupid. Old and new faces come back into your life, and unable to deal with the events in Orange Town, you handle it in the worst best way possible: through the bottle.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, fem!reader, LA!Verse, slight canon divergence, alcoholic indulgence on a catastrophic scale (drink responsibly ppl), blackouts, morally grey reader, violence, mentions of everyone (marine, fish people, pirates, etc.) having a past beef with Reader/"Cross-Hairs", Buggy POV in the end,

A/N: So, since this chapter was delayed, I think it compensates due to the fact that it is approximately 7k words long. The chapter jumps a little between the events of the Baratie, but there's a reason for that: the reason being that the Reader is shitfaced for most of the time during this chapter. Also, shout out to @ay0nha for putting up with my rambles during this period, really appreciate it XD

It hurts. Everything hurts. That’s the first thing he feels.

His feet, his back, his torso, but especially his head. It’s like a hamster is running on a wheel inside the bones in his skull, squeaking, chirping, driving him insane from the inside.

The wheel is pounding, and pounding until all he wants is to chuck that fucking hamster into–

“Hey, he’s waking up!”

Shanks? Why is he in his head? Fuck, he takes it back. The hamster can stay, rent-free, for as long as it fucking wants to, as long as it isn’t fucking Shanks—

“Buggy?”

On second thoughts, that voice doesn’t strike any sense of irritation with him. In fact, he finds it comforting, like the morning sun shining atop the ship deck. He doesn’t mind listening to that.

“Buggy?”

His eyes open, and he thinks he's seeing the sun for the first time. The sun and the moon, in fact, at the same time. Golden, blinding, warm, and cold, but he wants to watch them until his vision turns white and all sense of sight abandons him.

It’ll suck to be blind, but damn, what a hell of a way to go.

The more he stares, however, the more everything else falls back into place. He realizes it’s not suns he’s staring at, but two sharp eyes and a concerned face that makes him feel just as warm.

He’s in a bed, he finally discovers. There’s a pillow under his head, a fresh sheet up until his midsection which strangely smells of vinegar, inside a room he just now remembers is the Oro Jackson’s de-facto ‘infirmary’ which really is just an old storage space that was refurnished when they first got the ship.

There’s something wrapped around his head, tight but not too tight that it’s squeezing. It’s been done by precise and sturdy hands; a professional, someone who knows what they’re doing.

He blinks once, then twice, and everything around him finally settles. Including everyone perched around the bed.

“Ah, Buggy, my lad!” It’s hard not to recognize the booming voice of his captain, who proceeds to lean over him with his hands pressed around his biceps until the massive mustache trickles his chin. “Thought you were a goner for a moment!”

He kind of wishes he was one because the strength of Gol D. Roger is not to be underestimated. His ribs squeeze and it's hard to breathe, but out of respect for his captain, all that leaves his throat is a guttural groan that he hopes conveys the message clearly enough.

Gol D. promptly removes himself from his poor apprentice with his hands raised, and when he steps back, Shanks takes his place next to the bed. “Gods, Buggy! What were you thinking? You could’ve been killed! Rayleigh said you were lucky it was just a concussion!”

That’s when it dawns on him. Riiight, there was a scuttle. Some asshole pirates trying to ambush them, they picked the wrong fucking targets. Some … guy was flying over him? Did that happen, or was it just a fever dream?

He remembers kicking someone in the balls, and then … and then …

Lightning. Making its way for him as the darkness embraced his vision. A line of gold, straight as a sword, narrowing in on him.

Did it catch him before the darkness did?

He hopes so.

“Lay off me, will ‘ya!” he shouts at his friend, trying to get up. However, the fucking hamster wheel in his head keeps spinning until he settles back down against the pillow. “I was doing good!”

“Yeah, until you weren’t!” Shanks disputes and grabs his fellow apprentice by the collar of his sleeve. “I told you to fucking move, but it’s like you spaced out! She had to carry you all the way back here with your head all bleeding!”

Carry him?

He glances at you, finally. You’re sitting there, hunched slightly over the bed with those eyes looking at him, and he’s thinking you fucking carried him? It’s not that he’s ashamed, not at all, but if anything, he was always hoping the roles were switched.

He’d be the one carrying you. With your strength, he imagined it would be quite the weight to uphold, but he would do it. For you, he would move the seas if he could, Devil Fruit or not.

“Buggy, are you alright?”

You’re the one talking this time. Not the captain, nor Shanks, just you. The lighting is here, and he feels his skin prick. It’s electric. Cold. Warm. All and nothing combined. He could listen to it – feel it – for hours, days, maybe even years without ever growing weary of it.

He puts on his best brave face and scoffs, forcing his arms to cross themselves despite the surge of aches that rush through his body doing so. “Of course I’m alright! I’m Buggy! I bounce back, always!”

“Still,” your hands fall on top of his, and he feels his body freeze. “I was worried.”

“’Worried’?” Shanks cackles and gestures to you with his thumb over his shoulder. “You should’ve seen the damage she left behind. The entire place was smithereens, I tell you, Buggy! She knocked over those assholes like frickin’ chessboard pieces!”

“What did I always tell you?” Gol D. slams a hand on top of your shoulder, knocking you slightly forward. “She’s got eyes sharp enough to cut through steel, and pirates too, apparently.”

You laugh awkwardly. “I didn’t cut through them, really. I just … knocked them a little over.”

Shanks cackles. “Don’t be humble. You should’ve seen the guy who knocked you out. I swear, none of his bones were where they were supposed to be. He won’t be walking, or doing much of anything, ever again.”

Buggy can imagine it, but also not. He looks at you now, and he sees his concerned friend with those kind eyes that contain both the sun and the moon. He’s always known you’re strong – the strongest person he knows of save for his captain, but not unkind. Not cruel. Not sadistic.

Yet, if what Shanks just said carries any weight, it confirms what he’s always known.

You’re a beast, and beasts only follow their prime instincts. They don’t allow others to harm what or who they consider theirs.

And it means that you consider him yours.

Maybe in a different way than he’d prefer, maybe in a way that’s different from the kind he harbors towards you, but it still confirms he’s yours.

He will never want to find himself on the opposite side of that. Of you. Never you.

When he looks at you again, looks down at where your hand is pressed on top of his, he takes it in his own.

“I’m fine,” he finally says, his lip tugging in what is supposed to be a smile. “Remind me not to get on your bad side, though.”

You chuckle softly, and he smiles. Fuck, how can he not? He remembers it all so clearly. The way your dimples are shaped, the length of your hair, the soft tint of your lips.

“You? Never.” You finally say. “Never you”

---

You reflect on how it's weird that some things change whereas others don't.

Flowers prosper and bloom and die. The sun ascends, stays up for a few hours, then descends back into the horizon.

Friendships grow strong, stay strong, then they aren't.

Some things change, some don't.

Baratie being among the latter.

It's bright enough inside to momentarily blind you, just like it was a little over ten years ago. Save for new faces with the employees and some design choices, the overall place has stayed the same.

There are people there of prestigious backgrounds - both pirate and not - and you think of how receptive the restaurant must've been to make both parts come together without any regular scuttles.

A neutral ground for all to come and enjoy the feast. Well, that is the principle, but not everyone abides by it.

It’s been a while since you last visited the establishment, and last time, you were banned for life.

Frankly, you don’t recall much of the events; too drunk on rum at the time.

What you do remember is that it involved a few broken bottles of Baratie’s finest wine, some mashed-up furniture, and cutlery, a rival captain who wouldn’t take a “fucking get lost” for a “no”, and it ended with you standing surrounded by a bunch of broken bodies of your own making.

Needless to say, Zeff was pissed.

More than pissed, actually. He was fuming.

He probably still is.He has a thing for grudges if he’s still alive.

Maybe … Just maybe the old man’s chewed off something more than his leg and kicked the bucket? That’d be a sight to see considering he only has one remaining foot.

"My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?"

The waiter - Sanji - is fine, not going to lie. A good fighter, too, if his little display seconds ago is a testament to that. A bit too young for your preference, with a nose too small, and hair too bright and blonde. Not quite blue colorful enough.

All in all, not a bad look at all. Just for the aesthetics, though. A solid 7/10, you conclude.

"One of everything, please!" Luffy requests enthusiastically.

For whatever reason, Sanji does not seem to share your general affinity for the restaurant. That’s odd. Most people who work here tend to boast about their occupation in the famed restaurant.

Though, if you have to make a guess, Zeff is likely a contributing factor behind that disdain. He’s tough on people, even tougher if he likes someone.

As discontented as Sanji seems, however, it does not keep him from trying to withhold his flirtatious demeanor with Nami. A Casanova, it looks like. Funny.

"Waiter, can I get a beer and something for my friends?" Zoro asks, fed up with the one-sided dalliance going on between your shipmate and the waiter.

"Two beers!” Usopp promptly adds. “though, I usually have three."

"And one milk!" Luffy chimes in.

"Three beers and a milk," Sanji notes. His eyes land on you, and that signature smile falls to his lips. "And for the ladies?"

You’re already here, you think to yourself. Why not make the most of it? For nostalgia’s sake.

"A bottle of Baratie's Finest," you request, your chin resting in your palm. "Not the kind you keep for customers, though. Pick one from Zeff's private stash, if you can afford to smuggle it past his bushy nose?"

"A classy beverage for a classy lady, I see." A mischievous glimmer shines in his eyes and smile. "Although that stash is off-limits, what kind of a man would I be if I refused a lady her desired beverage?”

You tilt your head a fraction to the side. "I'm sure he won't mind. At his age, he needs to watch his liver."

"That is true,"

Quite frankly, everything else evades your attention the second the waiter arrives with your order. Sanji brings you your meals, and your pricey bottle of Baratie's Finest, and it’s the Red Apple edition.

Perfect.

You eat, and eat, and drink, and then drink some more, not even stopping to concern yourself with the price tag.

The food at the Baratie's has not been in decline when it comes to quality above all else. It's delicious, and not a lot of places have earned that kind of claim in your life.

The food is good, but the drinks are ethereal.

One glass turns into two, and two promptly becomes three. So forth, and so forth. Anything to dull the tightness lodged in your chest.

A tightness that has not left you alone in the past couple of weeks.

You've developed a pretty good tolerance over the years, and after several more units, you begin to feel the tickle on the edge of your hands. Baratie’s Finest indeed.

After five, the feeling settles on the tip of your spine.

After seven, you start to wonder what went wrong. It's a dangerous area to indulge in, especially if liquor is involved, but you don’t stop.

What went wrong?

What did you do wrong?

In another life, you would've traveled the world with them, doing nothing but drinking, fighting, exploring together.

Instead, you’re here, drinking with a crew yet still feeling like the loneliest asshole in the world. It’s not your crew.

You lose a smidgen of focus, and in the grand specter of things, focus is something you could do well with less off.

You can afford to think less, feel less, and know less. Life has been full of ups and downs, and quite frankly, you've grown weary of it all.

Fuck, maybe Luffy’s onto something? Maybe you are sad?

… Nah.

Once Zoro orders another beer, you go as far as to share your bottle with him. His face scrunches at the taste and he coughs several times, but he admits that it’s good.

As you sit there on the edge of the couch, sipping your beverage and tasting your food, Sanji arrives to collect the bill. You know Luffy doesn’t have a berry to his name yet, and so you wonder how long it'll take before Zeff notices.

More specifically, how long it’ll take him before he realizes he's missing something from his private collection?

“Who the hell is Monkey D. Luffy?!”

Speak of the Chief… and he shall appear.

This time, you do not interfere when Luffy attempts to bargain for his lack of cash. You simply sit back and observe.

As much as Luffy tries, he does not have the words or mind suited for this kind of business yet. It’s Capitalism at its finest.

“You eat, you pay!”

Thoughts and dreams can only get you so far in life, but at the Baratie, it’s coin.

When Zeff grabs Luffy by the front of his shirt, the chief's eyes turn to you, and holy hell, is he furious.

“And what in the blazing hell are you doing here?!"

“Zeff,” You greet him and raise your beverage his way, a tilted smirk on your face. "It’s been too long."

"Not long enough! I thought I told you to get fucking lost last time? The damages you did cost a fortune!"

“In my defense, it was the other guys that started it.”

He gives you such a dirty look that his jaws clench. “Don’t give a shit. Why are you here?”

You twirl the bottle around in your hand. "Just enjoying the ambiance, as always. I was in the area, and so how could I pass up the chance to try your scrumptious meals again? Or drinks, for that matter?"

On cue, you raise your - or rather his - bottle closer up to him.

It’s stupid, the rational part of your brain argues. One does not fuck around with the Chief of the Baratie, but among the few joys you have left in life, this remains one of them.

His eyes narrow in on the bottle and there he is.In the blink of an eye, he snaps it out of your hand with such fast precision that you're almost caught off-guard.

Zeff narrows in on the mostly empty flask like it's personally insulted him and his entire lineage. “Where did you get this?"

"It was on the menu."

"It sure as shit was not! How could you—" He freezes like a thought suddenly dawned on him, and if a man can become purple from anything other than oxygen deprivation, Zeff's current mood is the closest thing to it. "Sanji. Why that snot-nosed, little—! ... When I get my damn hands on him."

It seems that whatever vendetta Zeff has towards his employee, it outweighs the one he has for you tenfold, which says something. Without another word, he yanks Luffy by the scruff and all but drags him with him to the kitchen.

Ordinarily, you would’ve intervened on behalf of your captain, but with Zeff now preoccupied, it’s your chance to rob the bar of a few more beverages.

And in your dictionary, “a few” is the equivalent of “a shitton”.

"Wow," Usopp murmurs with a low whistle. "That guy really hates your guts."

"What are you talking about? I’m his favorite customer." You raise what remains in your glass to them. “Anyone want another one?”

"I do," Nami relents.

Zoro laughs, probably for the first time since you’ve met him. "Now you're talking."

Maybe, just maybe, you’re beginning to like these people.

With a couple more drinks, maybe you’ll be able to tell.

———

“You know, I kind— I kinda assumed you were an asshole when we first met?”

Usopp’s struggling to stand on his feet, legs bent slightly forward as he makes a half-assed attempt at ordering another drink. You can’t tell if the bartender is electively ignoring him or not, and truth be told, you don't blame the guy if the former applies.

Between the two of you, you’re more adept when it comes to dealing with liquor. Sure, your lips are a little looser now and the bright lights are starting to hurt your eyes, but all in all, you’re not even half as drunk as you want to be.

Seriously, fuck me sometimes. You just had to go all out when you were younger. Days and nights spent pouring bottle after bottle left your liver hardened rather than weakened.

Now, because of the high tolerance you stupidly developed, it's come here to bite you in the ass and keep you from getting wrecked.

“Oh?” Your sarcasm couldn't be any more discernible than it is now as you eye your crew mate. “What made you reach that conclusion?”

Usopp twirls around, horribly off-balanced, and slaps a hand over your shoulder.

A little too personal for your liking, but you let it slide for now.

“I mean, for starters, you—,” he hiccups. “You always have that look about you. Like someone just pissed in your ale.”

You give him an unimpressed but vaguely piqued once-over. “Descriptive. Go on,”

“And soso— And so I and the guys are wondering if you’re like that because some clown broke your heart or—,” he hiccups again. “Or some— something? Did he piss in your ale?”

You shrug his hand off at once. You don’t want to think about him, now least of all. "No.”

Not even a second later, his arm his back over your shoulder and he leans closer. It's probably meant as a comforting gesture, but given how absolutely wasted he looks, you perceive it with a grain of salt.

"Y-You can tell the great Capt— I mean, the Great Usopp, alright? We've all been there before, I—I'm ssssure. I mean, Zoro doesn't strike me as much of a ladies' man, but he's probably got stories, too."

The bartender finally stops by and leaves a beer bottle in front of you on the table, completely ignoring your companion, and disappears to make his next rounds.

You take the flask and flick the cork off with your thumb. "Well, if you really want to help, —"

You turn around so that your back hits the bar counter, twirl Ussop around with the guidance of your hand and shove him lightly towards where Nami and Zoro are sitting. "— Talk to the others first about their heartbreaks."

If he wants to object, he's too drunk to for it. Instead, he recollects his limited stance and all but wobbles over to the corner where your other companions are seated.

He’s their problem now, but it’ll be an interesting display.

You recline against the bar counter to chug your beverage in peace when a voice suddenly speaks up from next to you.

“I thought you were retired.”

With how loud the music is, it might have slipped your notice completely. Then again, the owner of said voice has always had that thing about him.

He could whisper, and the entire room would’ve heard.

You glance up at your side, and you’re halfway tempted to smile when you see who it is.

“It’s been a while, Hawk-Eyes.”

Everything from the feather on his hat to the cross around his neck and the pointy way his beard is trimmed has stayed the same. Not a scar, a bruise, or blemish to spot on him.

In ten years, he looks to have aged only one. Some people are fortunate in terms of youth, and you would definitely consider Dracule Mihawk one of them.

“Cross-Hairs.” He inclines his head to you, a silent courtesy reserved only for those whose company he tolerates. “I believed you abandoned your life behind the mast years ago.”

You take another generous gulp from your bottle before you respond. "So did I, but life finds a way, doesn't it?"

"Indeed." He peeks over his shoulder to where your companions are seated, his countenance less than impressed. Then again, that's just his face by default, so hard to tell with him. "And last we met, you were a Captain."

"Last time we met, you almost cut my right arm off." For emphasis, you pull back your sleeve to show off the straight scar that separates your upper arm from the rest. It's faded, old, and never noticeable unless you decide to wear anything short-sleeved, but it's there all the same.

He doesn't apologize. Of course, he wouldn't. Instead, he raises his sparse glass of wine to you. "Nothing personal."

You raise your bottle to him in turn. "Of course not,"

Clink!

You drink your respective beverages in companionable silence. However, even with your halfway inebriated state of mind, you can't help but think of the reasons for his presence.

You have your suspicions, and you're not shy about voicing them.

"This isn't your usual scenery." You say. “What makes one of the great Warlords of the Sea seek out a place such as this? Business or pleasure?"

"Business," he answers curtly, as though he'd prefer to do anything but. "I'm looking for a captain."

“It’s not Shanks, I take it?”

“No, it’s not. It’s a captain by the name of Luffy.”

It doesn't surprise you. It should, but it doesn’t.

The lengths the vice-admiral is willing to go to retrieve his grandson, which apparently includes hiring a Warlord to do so, doesn’t surprise you in the slightest. Unbreakable willpower is a family trait, after all, if you've learned anything from Luffy.

It wouldn’t suffice with a gun; he had to send the entire fucking arsenal.

Still, at least it’s Mihawk of all people. It shouldn’t be a source of relief, but had it been anyone else, be it Kuro or Axe-hand or Bu-...

Your fingers subconsciously dig into the fragile, empty bottle you’re holding.

The point is, had it been anyone else, you would've intervened. You have intervened, several times by now, but not tonight.

Tonight, you're here to drink and forget, then drink some more. You don’t have the sobriety to worry about much of anything anymore.

"Garp must truly be at his wit's end if he employs you for his endeavors." Once you retrieve the bottle at your disposal, you pluck off the cap and swirl it lazily in your hand. The lights from the bar dance around the transparently brown rim, like a shooting star with no exit and no entrance to the rest of the universe. Forever stuck. "Seems excessive to send you of all people after something so seemingly simple."

"From what I've heard, this particular quarry is something of a wildcard."

"If you’re here, I’m sure of it."

Mihawk tilts his chin up, eyeing you curiously in your peripheral vision. "Are you saying that you're acquainted with this Luffy?"

"I'm saying no such thing. It's just mere speculations on my part." Another fistful of alcohol travels down your esophagus. "You're only employed when it's truly serious, and the vice-admiral is known for only getting involved in those kinds of matters. It adds up, is all I’m saying."

“I hardly consider it dire. It's more a means of killing some time on my part." He does not take his eyes off of you, and even in your current state, you can tell that something is brewing beneath those sharp eyes. "However, if said captain has you in his arsenal, then I feel like some investigation is warranted. After all, the Captain of the Cross-Haired pirates is not particularly known for her tendency to submit to others."

You quirk an eyebrow at him and circle your finger around the bottle rim, pondering on the subject yet not biting at the metaphorical carrot he dangles in front of you. "Technically, it’s just like you said: I'm retired, and the Cross-Haired pirates are no more. I’d think most people are aware of that.”

"The Marines believe otherwise,” he counters calmly. “The Cross-haired pirates may be disbanded, but their captain’s bounty remains on the posters. The vice-admiral was quite adamant that, while he wants the boy alive, he’d prefer it if you weren’t."

“I see.” The vice-admiral should learn to take a fucking number. “Tell me, have you elected a means of execution, or is it the dealer's choice?"

"I recall he mentioned something along the lines of wanting your head on a spike."

"Crude."

"I agree."

"Then," you raise your glass. "Am I to have my last drink here tonight?"

He shakes his head. "No, I'm here for the boy and nothing else."

You'd expect him to be forward with his line of questions; demand you just give Luffy up and be done with it, not side-stepping the subject like he's doing now.

If he suspects something, he'll sniff it out like a bloodhound until he gets what he's searching for, regardless of how many cards or people fall around him. You’ve not exactly been subtle about your affiliations with his quarry, something you’ll berate yourself for come morning, but it all depends on how this plays out now.

"I won’t give you the answer you seek. You’ll have to do that on your own.”

You're not friends, but you're not necessarily foes either.

For as long as you’ve known the swordsman, Mihawk's only ever had a beef with Shanks for reasons undisclosed even to you. Even after you parted ways with your red-haired crew mate, Mihawk never seemed to have anything personal against you despite the rather brutal nature of your previous encounter.

If anything, there's a certain level of respect veiled between you, one former pirate to another semi-former one, and it’s something you hope he'll honor just this once.

To your relief, he decides to not push the matter, but the interest lingers in his eyes.

It's not easy to notice, but you make it a habit to take note of limited details. "The boy must be something special to have earned your loyalty like this, Cross-Hairs."

"I suppose you'll have to find out for yourself."

"Perhaps so," he concedes.

You chug the rest of your drink in one go, put the empty bottle on the tabletop in the space between you, and push yourself off the counter. "For what it's worth, I wish you good fortune with your endeavor. However, I’ll warn you; if anything happens to the kid, I'll get involved.”

“Duly noted.” Once again, he dips his head to you. "And Cross-Hairs,"

"Hmmm?"

You glance at him from over your shoulder, but his gaze is fixated on something else this time. Something on the other side of the bar, to the borders of the waters. If he sees anything, you can't tell what it is, and he doesn’t share.

Not explicitly.

"There is unrest brewing in the seas," he finally reveals, casually as if he's discussing the current state of the weather. "I'd suggest you keep your feet dry for now, at your convenience."

You don't know what he speaks of, but whatever it is, you'll follow. He is not a man who prides himself on his capacity to proclaim falsehood. If he tells you that the sun is green, you'll believe it, and you make it a habit not to believe in a lot of people.

That applies to this warning too.

"I'll see you around, Hawk-Eyes."

You need another drink.

———

You slip in and out of consciousness a couple of times throughout the night, never coming to the same places twice, with a belly full of rum, beer, and whatever else with enough alcoholic percentage to knock out a horse.

At one point, you're in the restaurant munching on some bread rolls.

At another, you're puking your guts out in the bathroom stalls.

At the third, you're chugging even more liquor straight out of the bottle while a bunch of people cheer you on.

The circle goes on and on and on until it spins out of control like a zoetrope. Faces flash in front of you, one after the other, never the same two times in a row.

It's alright, you tell yourself, as long as you forget.

You forget about blue eyes, blue hair, and red noses.

You forget about Gol D. Roger and the time you spent on his crew.

You forget it all, if only for a few hours.

Next time you come to, you're still miraculously standing on your feet. You’re currently in the kitchen on the Merry, and currently listening to Nami telling a ridiculous story about how Zoro challenged Dracule Mihawk to a duel.

What a funny story.

In fact, it’s so funny and so outlandish that you can't help but snort. Since when has Nami been the kind of person to tell jokes?

Maybe Usopp's tendencies have rubbed off on the standoffish young woman, or maybe she's smoked something along with her drinks?

Fuck, you have to ask her where she got the stuff.

It takes a few moments of awkward silence until you realize that no one is joking, Nami least of all. The room is still, and as if all alcoholic content has left your blood, it dawns on you last of all.

Oh hell no.

You slowly turn to Zoro with a deadpan look in your eyes, and despite the urgency, you ask him as calmly as you can, "You challenged Dracule Mihawk to a duel?"

He bobs his head and continues polishing his swords. "Which he accepted,"

You blink, and blink, hoping that this is just a fragment your beer-and-bottle-drenched brain has conjured to fuck with you, but Zoro remains where he is and so is everyone and everything else.

Fuuuuuuuck…

You thought he was one of the smart ones, too. His sense of navigation doesn't work for shit and if anyone can get lost on their way to the lavatory, it's him. Still, you withheld some semblance of hope that he would exhibit the same kind of recklessness as his captain.

Turns out, it has all been for naught.

You rub your temples hard enough to sting. With a nasty headache developing, you decide to pop the question. "Cremation or burial at sea?"

"... What?"

"Pick one or the other, I'll see to it that arrangements can be made."

"I'm not going to die.”

"You are a fly to him." Nami grimaces. "Something to be swatted and forgotten,"

"Not if I win." Zoro is steadfast and determined, like every new pirate on their first voyage.

It’s a look you remember well. In a way, the young swordsman kind of reminds you of Mihawk himself, and if there's one thing you can link to both, it's that annoying stubbornness that never yields. Even when the odds are against them.

"You're not going to win," Nami tries.

Zoro remains infuriatingly unconvinced. "You don't know that."

"You won't." This situation, to your chagrin, sobers you up enough that you can't blame the liquor on your next actions or words.

You take a step towards him, and with an iron fist, grab him by the front of his shirt and force him to face you. He's unamused. “I think I liked you better when you were drunk,” he murmurs.

"I want you to get this, really get this.” You snarl. “Once you go against Mihawk, and there's no coming back for most. He's not known as the World's Greatest Swordsman for no reason, and as good as you are, take it from me. He'll end you."

He inclines his head to the side with deep-rooted skepticism. "Sounds like you really know the guy,"

"It doesn't matter whether I know him or not."

"Everywhere we go, we make enemies, and for some reason, they've already got a grudge against you, Captain Cross-Hairs."

With one hand clenched against your offending wrist, he starts to list off his other hand. "Since you know just about every asshole we come across, you might as well tell me about Mihawk's preferred method of execution. Will he chop me in half, or is he excessive like the damn clown and goes all the way with splitting someone into pieces?"

You feel your nails begin to pierce through the fabric of his shirt, inches away from leaving open gaps. You're not their guardian or their mentor. You're not the one supposed to keep the crew at ease or lead them towards certain victories.

That's the captain's role, and you're not it. Not on this ship, with this crew.

Your only purpose here is to keep them from killing themselves on their first voyage, but if they're so determined to do it themselves despite the warnings you provide, then it's not on you.

Pulling him a few inches closer to you, you look him straight in the eyes, and that's when you see it. The aforementioned stubbornness that follows each and every young pirate you've come across in your life. The notion that they're invulnerable; unkillable.

Nothing can hope to end them.

You remember what it was like, that feeling, and it almost breaks you to see it in front of you like this.

You know aggression won’t do it for him, so you try an approach you haven’t tried in years. Bargaining.

“What will it take for you to pull back from this?”

“He’s coming for Luffy. I’m his first mate, it’s my duty to protect the captain.”

To protect the Captain…

That's how you know that there's no convincing the young swordsman to stand down, not this time.

He's persistent, exceedingly so, and if there's one thing you've learned during this voyage with these people it's that hell hath no fury like a straw hat pirate determined.

This is not on you, yet it doesn't make it any easier to let go of him. But you do.

Taking a deep breath, you uncurl your fingers and let him step back.

"Fine."

You need another drink.

Glancing over your shoulder, you meet Luffy’s concerned gaze. “This is your call, captain.”

You don’t need to be here for this. You’ve done your part, and now it’s his turn to do his.

You give Zoro a pat on his back, just one. It's not meant for comfort, it's not an act of sympathy either.

It's just a pat, like the kind you give your friend when they're about to gamble away all their savings over a game of cards. It’s the “fuck around and find out, but do it yourself”-kind of gesture.

Heaving a sigh, you sidestep him and let your fingers fall off his shoulders. "It's been fun, Zoro."

And the worst part about this all is that you mean it, truly. It has been fun to sail with them, share a few beers, and joke at the expense of others. Your time on this ship has been fun.

Like old times.

You won't go as far as to call Zoro a friend, you never do, but it's close enough that you'll probably miss him in the long run.

Zoro looks at you, his countenance indecipherable. "Say that to me again when I win this fight,"

"I can't." Because you won't.

---

The water forces its way into his lungs at such speed that it feels like he's swallowed buckets by the time they finally come up for air. He harks and coughs and tries to get as much of it out, but he doesn’t feel any lighter.

Get it? Lighter, because he’s just a head now and— alright, forget it.

For once, he's happy his head is disjointed from the rest of his body because if it wasn't, he'd probably sink to the bottom of the ocean from the fluid in his belly alone.

The taste of salt and sand stays like a sour afterthought on his tongue, and as much as he tries to spit it out, he can't be rid of all the grains. "Fuck! Give me a warning next time, will ya?! Kinda vulnerable to seawater and all that!"

Whatever fish-guy has him strapped to their back this time does not dignify his complaints with a verbal response. Instead, all he hears is a couple of snickers, like their humor is fuelled at his expense.

Assholes, the lot of them.

It takes some time for the tangy scent to abandon his nostrils, but once it does, it's immediately replaced by the fine scent of something divine. Something delicious.

It smells of food. Actual fucking human food. Not whatever Arlong and his litter gorge on, which he personally believes to be carcasses of dead sea animals they happen to catch on the shores of their island.

It's honest-to-god cooked, seasoned, edible food.

Buggy can feel his mouth water, and for once, he cannot blame it on seawater.

They're finally at Baratie.

The finest restaurant in all the East Blue, renowned for its excellent taste and unrivaled quality. Only the richest of the rich get to dine here, and while he's not exactly flowing with berries at the moment, he’s famished.

“Hey, Lips!" he yells out as loud as he can through the shitty bag. "How about you order me some hot dogs once we get a seat? A clown's gotta eat!"

The only sort of response he gets is an elbow to the bag, which incidentally clashes right into his nose. "FUCK!"

"Shut up!"

There's scuttling to be heard, doors opening, and a shitton of gasps echo from all around him. They have an audience, he deduces, and not a particularly receptive one at that.

Arlong makes a spectacle, something about "serve" and yish and yash about dinner and last meals as they get a seat.

Fuck, what he would give for a meal.

For the first time in what feels like forever, he feels solid ground settle under his neck. Though it's a pleasant reprieve from being thrown back and forth like a yarn ball caught in a cat’s game, he won’t consider it much of an upgrade. He's fucking hungry, damnit!

"Who are you, old man?" Arlong speaks, and Buggy hears uneven steps approach them.

An unfamiliar voice answers. "My name's Zeff, and I own this place."

Right, the Chief. Maybe he can ask him for some crumbs since his captors aren’t exactly on the generous side.

"Well, I'm Arlong, and I own the East Blue."

"No one owns the sea. Not even a fish man."

Ooooh, burn! Suck on that, shitface!

"Listen up!” Arlong exclaims when the chief’s negotiation tactics fail to appease him. “I'm looking for a pirate in a straw hat! Goes by the name of Luffy!"

The saw-nosed motherfucker truly has to be even more extravagant than himself, Buggy admits to himself with no short amount of begrudging compliance. Fishface even goes as far as to threaten the poor diners with having them for dinner instead, by the sounds of it.

Buggy can appreciate the message it conveys; he’s used it himself, but he refuses to find any common ground with his captor, so he buries the sentiment ten feet down into wherever the hell his body is.

He listens as the diners lose their appetite, all the while Arlong begins to gorge on whatever he has on his plate. For a while, all he can make out is the sound of meat being torn off something and the occasional cry from one of the diners in the distance.

Even from miles and miles away, Buggy can feel his stomach twist painfully due to the lack of food in it. Oh, it’s hell on earth to smell everything you want yet being unable to even grasp it. And here his captors are, toying with him, torturing him with it.

Seriously, fuck them.

He’s about to demand to get something to chew on when Arlong’s other henchman — Kuroobi or some shit like that — beats him to it. "Hey, boss, I'm feeling for a bottle right about now."

Arlong laughs. "Don’t have to tell me. Take what you please. I don’t think that one will mind sharing one of hers.”

“And get one for me too while you’re at it,” Lips supplies.

The henchman cackles and gets up to his feet to retrieve what he’s looking for, but not before lightly kicking the bag that is Buggy’s current prison cell in the side.

“HEY!”

“Sorry.” He apologizes unapologetically.

Buggy grinds his teeth together and tries to think of something — anything — to keep his mind off his ever-rising hunger. When he gets his body back, he'll take some bottles and shove them right up these fuckers a—

CRASH!

Buggy hears the sound of something breaking from the opposite side of where the fish man just headed. Countless gasps ring through the restaurant’s interior, bouncing on the walls, and he hears the henchman’s painful wails from a distance away.

He’d laugh - he does laugh, because it seems like someone didn’t want to share their precious drinks and decided that full-on attacking one of the fish people was the appropriate kind of response.

It’s impressive, he thinks. Very much so. Oh, he’d pay to see that again, and he’ll have to give that person a fucking kiss, just for making his day a little bit better.

It’s a shame he can’t see the—

"Fucking get lost."

Buggy feels his head freeze in the bag.

He recognizes that voice. The morning sun shone atop the ship deck. Warm. Cold. All of them at once.

He's finally found you.

---

Taglist: @kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy, @detectivesparrow , @yuriwk , @notyuralycat , @angeli-fucking-cat, @machinema7k , @shuujin, @avatar-lover, @gingernut1314, @autumn-slaves. @marvelouskatie, @floristoflillys, @dizzyenby, @redpool, @deliri-yum22, @aemondsb1tch, @ackroxia, @gayandfairycore (If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #one piece live action #one piece x reader #buggy x you #one piece #buggy the clown fanfiction #buggy x female reader #DMTMYHB #didn’t mean to make your heart blue

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jujutsubaby · 1 year ago

Text

after hours (part 4)

☆ pairing: toji fushiguro x afab!reader, satoru gojo x afab!reader ☆ summary: you and toji FINALLY have some alone time...things are getting steamy in the fushiguro household...meanwhile, satoru gojo cannot keep his hands to himself, no matter how hard he tries. ☆ warnings: 18+. MINORS DNI !! oral sex (f!recieving & m!recieving) deepthroating, fingering, spanking, penetrative sex, slight power dynamic, dirty talk, hints of a threesome, masturbation, dirty fantasies ☆ tags: modernAU, babysittingAU ☆ a/n: OK IT"S FINALLY HERE U HORNDOGS <3 the toji smut i wrote once again with one hand 😈 i'm excited for the next chapter where i can finally write some gojo smut hehe 🤭 🖤🤍 series masterlist 🤍🖤

"be right back, gonna tuck megumi into bed really quick," toji says to before giving you a quick peck on the lips and heading upstairs.

you sit on toji’s couch, twiddling your thumbs, quite honestly feeling excited for the rest of the night. you’ve wanted this for long it feels like you manifested it and you just couldn’t wait any longer. you close your eyes and sigh deeply, imagining how toji’s hands would feel sliding up and down your body and shiver slightly. your hand starts wandering lower and lower down your stomach, but your thoughts are abruptly interrupted by your phone dinging. you immediately frown. getting a text from satoru is always an immediately boner kill…sometimes.

satoru: wyd wanna come over?

ugh, how many times do i have to tell him that i’m busy tonight? you quickly type a response.

y/n: dude i alr told u i was busy tn remember 😒

satoru: are u fr gonna let toji’s broke ass dick you down instead of hangin w me?? sad 😔

y/n: yes 🙃 best offer i’ve had tn

speech bubbles show up, indicating satoru is typing, and continues to type for what feels like hours (it was 30 seconds).

satoru: i guarantee u i can blow ur back better than he can. just ask anyone 😈

you stare at the text dumbfounded. what the actual FUCK is he on? you’re honestly so annoyed that he would try to slide into your thoughts right now, right before toji blows your mind.

y/n: kys

you put your phone on vibrate and mute satoru’s texts, not caring how he responds back. you go back to the fantasy you were thinking of before his intrusion and your hand starts sliding down your body once again. you’re imagining toji’s arms holding you tight and how skillful he was with his tongue last night. he never properly showed love to your tits, and you imagine him continuing what he was doing earlier in the night with your delicate buds. and satoru choking you while it happens. wait, what the fuck?

your hand immediately stops, shocked by your intrusive thoughts, but your lower body betrays you, soaking your panties.

as if your heart wasn't beating fast enough, you hear toji come down the stairs and you get up to meet him. he holds a hand out for you.

"have you ever been to my bedroom?" he asks, leading you up the stairs.

you giggle, excited to see toji's bedroom for the first time. "i haven't! i'm so excited! i feel like a person's bedroom says a lot about them and i just love-"

you're left speechless as you enter toji's bedroom, which is just plain sheets on a king sized mattress without a headboard, and a measly bedside drawer and dresser. you think you saw one of the two on the sidewalk last spring for spring cleaning.

"this is where the magic happens, pumpkin," toji says slyly. "i know, i know, contain yourself."

"there's no way you live like someone who's in kappa sigma. be so fucking for real right now, toji. you're literally a father..." you say, still in absolute shock over over his room. you vowed back in undergrad you would never hook up with a frat guy ever again and here now is this mid-30s man who you were about to link up with that doesn't have a headboard. you look up at toji nonplussed.

"i guarantee that you won't give a shit about how this place looks once i'm done with you." with that, toji lifts you up and starts kissing you deeply, tongue feverishly exploring yours. he slams your body down into his bed, and you're surprised that his bed is softer than you expected. your body melts into his sheets and you never break contact with his mouth, moaning into the kiss.

he breaks the kiss and flips you over, causing you to squeak. "let's get this thing off of you," toji growls, his eyes filled with hunger as he fiddles with the zipper on your back. you arch your back out, your ass meeting his hard member, and he hisses at the slight touch.

"calm down, pumpkin...so eager and slutty for me..." toji whispers as he finally undoes the buttons and zippers. it practically takes everything toji has to not rip your jumpsuit to shreds as he turns you over and peels your jumpsuit off of you, exposing your chest and your perky nipples.

he wastes no time and immediately latches on to one while kneading the other, and you let out a wanton moan, gripping his hair. the things he's doing with his tongue is sending electricity throughout your body and your back arches in pleasure.

toji moves on to your other nipple, and lightly bites and rolls it between his mouth, causing you to yell out a pathetic "toji, please..."

"what do you need from me, pumpkin?" he asks, lifting his head up and locking eyes with you.

"n-need...i need you in my mouth." you whimper, feeling so helpless to the lustful indulgence you were giving into.

toji grunts and places your hand on his hard member and you use your fingers to unzip his pants and palm him through his boxer briefs, whining for more. "can't keep my pumpkin waiting, can i?" he says, as he pulls his underwear down and his throbbing member bounces out.

your eyes widen at the sheer size of him, but you were never a quitter. your mouth salivates as your fingers wrap around him and start to move up and down. you kiss the tip and leave a trail of saliva connecting your lips to his throbbing member, before fully engulfing him in your mouth.

you hear toji let out a guttural moan before his hands fixate themselves as your makeshift ponytail. "just like that...yeah...you're taking me so well, pumpkin..." he says softly between throaty sighs. he starts moving your head up and down at a faster pace and you moan around him.

the vibrations of your constant moans sends toji into a frenzy. "fuck, y'think you can deepthroat me? think your little mouth can handle that?" he asks between deep breaths.

your eyes look up to meet his. you give him the green light, and toji wastes no time picking up the pace and fucking your mouth. your whimpers against him only motivates him to go faster. you don't think your mouth has ever been this full (and you're sure it's gonna be bruised tomorrow morning), and tears start to brim your eyes and mascara slowly smudges down your face. you're determined to take his full length into your mouth, or at least gag trying until he's close.

you should've known better than trying to fit all of him in. he's so incredibly huge so you don't get to take in his full length, and you end up gagging on him a few times. soon enough, toji finds a pace that allows your tongue to skillfully lick and suck his entire length while your hand takes over what you can't.

"f-fuck, pumpkin, you keep goin' like this i'm gonna get close..." toji says, his eyes closed, face flushed, and his mouth in an o-shape, taking in the sensations your mouth was performing. it really was a spectacularly lewd performance, as toji cannot recall another time another girl was so skilled with their tongue. none of the girls he fucked before compared to you.

you continue your ministrations, and just as toji warned before, he gets dangerously close before he abruptly pulls his soaked, leaking member off your mouth. you cry out at the loss of him inside your mouth, but finally relax your jaw as toji starts kissing your neck all the way up to your mouth, and then back to your neck.

as he starts to bite your neck and leaves, what you think will be, a giant purple patch tomorrow morning, you wantonly cry out. "t-toji~ please, i can't handle this anymore," as tears start to well up in your eyes from deepthroating him. "i-i n-need you i-inside m-mee~" you beg. your mind can barely form a coherent thought, as all you could think about was how you wanted to feel him. all of him.

toji lets out a breathy chuckle as he starts kissing you down your body, slowly removing the rest of your jumpsuit and leaving you in your - oh my god? why the hell are you wearing your pink panties with burger prints all over them?!

"ohmygod, sorry i totally forgot to change into sexy pant- ohh, f-fuck~"

toji kisses your wet clothed core deeply, hitting your bundle of nerves, causing you to stop mid-sentence. "these are fuckin' adorable, pumpkin," toji coos, his eyes never once leaving your clothed core, hypnotized by the sight of your wet panties sticking to your core in front him.

he slowly takes off your burger panties, and locks eyes with you, before his tongue flicks across your bundle of nerves, causing you to practically scream at how sensitive you were. toji smirks, knowing he quite literally hit the right nerve, before diving into it.

"o-ohh, f-fu-, don't stop, pleaaase~" you whine as you hold his head in place between your legs. you grind your core up and down, feeling your sensitive nub shoot pleasure through all part of your body and causing your toes to curl.

"you know, i think we forgot to get dessert tonight...", toji teases as he switches to his fingers rubbing rough circles on your bundle of nerves. "you taste better than anything we would've got..."

you breaths become heavier and shorter as you feel the familiar dam build up begging to release. "remember when i made you cum all over my face last time princess? let's do it two for two," toji says between licks to your sensitive and throbbing core.

"y-yes p-please, toji~" you nod, already feeling yourself coming undone. "i-i'm about to...please~" you beg, unable to stop the dam from breaking and you release over toji's mouth once again. toji takes in every part of you, making sure you ride your release until the very end, almost to the point of overstimulating you.

you to jerk your hips away from toji's mouth due to how overstimulated you got. satisfied, toji leans up to give you a wet open mouthed kiss that you whimper into pathetically, unable to properly prop yourself up after your first release. before you're able to say anything, toji flips you over on your chest and pulls your exposed ass up as he slips off his underwear.

"been waiting my turn for ages, pumpkin," he mumbles, as he licks his two fingers before sliding them inside your entrance, stretching and prepping your for his length. you let our a throaty moan as you feel yourself already ready for another release over just his fingers.

"think you can handle me, pumpkin?" he asks, taking his fingers out of you and you mewl at the loss of contact.

you bit your lip and widen your eyes as you look at him. his pupils were dilated and filled with lust, and you bit back a moan. "i can take you," you pout, feigning displeasure with toji's diffidence towards you. can you though? you've never had something as big as him inside you, and you knew it. but once again, you were never a quitter, always a pleaser.

he wordlessly chuckles, as he slowly teases your entrance with his tip. you shake your hips back and forth, eager to feel him fully inside you, and toji obliges, unapologetically sliding his full length inside your eager entrance.

he anticipates your long moan, and immediately slaps his hand over your mouth, and your cries end up muffled and muted. toji hisses at the way your walls immediately tighten around him.

"fuck, pumpkin. never met anyone tighter than you..." he grunts, slowly and rhythmically moving himself against your ass. you feel him hit the sensitive patch inside you, and your moans are muffled even further as toji tightens his hand around your mouth harder.

after pounding into you for a bit more, he releases his hand from your mouth, causing you to slur out toji's name. "t-toji~ i'm getting sooo clo-"

you're cut off by toji switching angles, as he pushes your back down, creating a harsh arch of your back. your face sinks headfirst into the pillows, and your ass flush against the base of toji's throbbing member. your whimpers are muffled against the pillows, as toji masterfully and ruthlessly starts to slam into you in and out. he's getting close, but he's determined to hold out until you are too.

toji's hand slips around your waist and his fingers start circling your bundle of nerves, causing you whimper and grab the bedsheets until your knuckles turn white. he switches up the sensation by giving your ass a harsh slap, earning a high pitched moan out of you. seeing the red palm imprint on your ass cheek spurs him on to hammer into you even faster.

you feel the familiar tight coil starting inside your core, spreading all over your body. your toes and fingers curl, and you're a moaning crying mess. your makeup is definitely staining toji's sheets but your don't even care. no one does.

toji alternates between relentlessly massaging your delicate nub and playfully slapping your ass as he's teetering closer and closer to the edge.

he feels your walls clench up around him and can tell your close. "need a release, pumpkin?" he says through gritted teeth and deep breaths.

you don't even understand what you say, your words slurred from the ecstasy of toji's sublime movements. how is he managing to hit your g-spot every single time?

"nnghh~ i-i'm g-gonna c-cu-"

you cry out in ecstasy as your walls begin to tighten around him as you feel the tight coil in your stomach unfurl with fireworks and spots blurring your vision as you have your second, and strongest, release of the night. your release directly results in toji's as you milk his hard throbbing pulsating member and he fills you up. he lets out quick, deep, guttural groans as he spills all over you. thank god you're on birth control.

you both are left breathing heavily, as you turn on your back, legs still twitching from how hard your body gave in to toji, who bounces into the spot next to you breathing heavily. you feel toji's seed slowly seeping out of you, but you can't bring yourself to care; you're far too fucked out to think a coherent thought.

he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close as you snuggle into his neck, just like a puzzle piece finding it's place. you sigh and close your eyes, hearing nothing the sound of your breaths in unison slowing down.

"that...was...so fun..." you whisper slowly in between breaths.

toji airily chuckles. "it was, wasn't it, pumpkin?" toji starts massaging your scalp an playing with your hair and you both sit in the comfortable companionable silence you both appreciated.

toji doesn't know when your silence turned into slumber, but when he gets up, he sees your eyes closed with your mouth slightly open, your mind somewhere far away. he knows he shouldn't wake you, but he also knows you really should use the bathroom before falling asleep. deciding on letting you sleep a bit more before waking you, he tries his best to slowly get out of the creaky bed and head to the washroom.

toji won't lie, he's also incredibly fucked out, and his eyes are droopy as he tries to stay awake while he brushes his teeth and gets out an extra tooth brush for you. once he's done, he approaches you silently and lightly shakes you to wake you up.

"mmmghh, stoppp i'm trying to sleep..." you mumble, clearly unreceptive to waking up.

"i know, pumpkin," toji coos, rubbing your body up and down, "y'gotta pee after sex, i read it somewhere i think..."

you sleepily giggle at his concern with your eyes closed as you lay on your back. "ugh, fine...but you have to keep my spot warm for me." you warn, as toji helps you get up.

"left you a toothbrush on the counter. it's the blue one."

"gotcha," you say with a thumbs up as you swing your legs over the bed. as you take the first step, you double down over the pain you feel in your abdomen and lower stomach and yelp.

a concerned toji runs over to your side, only to start grinning and laughing. he leans down your level. "ohhh, someone's sore..." he teases.

"shut up toji~" you yell in a loud whisper, frowning at him laughing at your pain. "this is all your fault," you pout.

"okay, go pee and brush your teeth and i'll make it up by playing w your hair again until you sleep," he promises, giving your ass a quick slap. you give him a playfully dirty look before heading to the bathroom to finish your business.

while brushing your teeth, you send quick text to shoko letting her know you're planning to stay the night with toji. immediately, you get a text back from her acknowledging it, but even more surprisingly, you get a text from satoru:

satoru: so ur spending the night at his place, huh? that good? 🤨

no way they're together right now. you furrow your eyebrows and send a quick text back.

y/n: what are you doing w shoko

satoru: i'm at ur apartment stupid i told u i got bored

y/n: stay away frm my room

satoru: too late i'm going to do 3/3 of my jerk offs in ur bed tn :/

you don't know why you snorted. i mean it was a little funny. you shake your head and finish brushing your teeth. you look at your reflection in the mirror and notice all the mascara and eyeliner streaks on your face and have to hold back a laugh. you're looking so ridiculous and fucked out, and you know shoko and utahime would find it hilarious (and partially very happy for you for having a fun time). you grab your phone and take a selfie of your makeup streaked face and send it to your group chat with them.

y/n: [1 Photo] it happened ya'll 🤪

utahime and shoko both immediately respond:

utahime: u deserve this queen u manifested it 💓

shoko: i do NOT want to hear that ur down bad ever again after this

shoko: also !! [1 Photo]

shoko sends you a screenshot of her and utahime's villager avatars on their animal crossing island, cottagecore witchy theme and all, holding hands. this might possibly be the cutest thing you've ever seen in your life and send at least 10 hearts in response.

you let out a big yawn and head back to bed. you have an early morning tomorrow, as you made plans with your friends to meet up at cafe amanai again to dissect the parent teacher conference. you can't remember why you were so nervous about tonight -- it went just as lovely as you hoped (aside from all the dumb texts from satoru).

"gotcha this also so you're not cold," toji mumbles, half alseep, pointing to his national park t-shirt on the bed. you put it on, and it's the perfect oversized fit for you. oh my god, it's kinda cute...should you keep it?

you get into bed and bonk toji's head lightly. "hey! you said you would play with my hair," you chide, facing away from him, but pushing your body snugly against his. he pulls you even closer, accepting his role as the big spoon, and mumbles something you can't hear starts playing with your lightly.

you hum in contentment. "by the way, this t-shirt..." you yawn. "it's...so dilfy."

"hmm..." toji says half alseep, "bet you say that to all the dilfs you fuck..."

you feel so warm inside when you realize you can hear his smile in that response, even half asleep. "you got me," you joke, as the sound of toji's breathing and his fingers caressing your scalp sends you into a blissful slumber within minutes.

meanwhile, at your apartment, shoko and utahime are bidding farewell to suguru and satoru. utahime is trying not to rush them out, but she really doesn't want her night to be more soiled by satoru than it already is, and shoko agrees.

satoru drives himself and suguru back, mostly in silence since it is past midnight, and they are both incredibly tired. once back at their apartment, like clockwork, satoru finds himself doing the motions to get ready for bed.

his head plops into his silk pillow and despite being obviously tired and having an early morning of gossip sessions, work, and classes ahead of him, he cannot stop thinking about the photo he sneakily saw of you on shoko's phone -- the one of your mascara running down your face.

if he recalls correctly, you didn't have a neck hemline in the photo either, so you were probably naked too. he's trying really hard not to think about him fucking your mouth like that. no, he really is, he swears his hands are just reaching down his boxers magically. he's also getting hard despite trying to replace your face with literally any other girl he's slept with, but it always reverts back to you.

satoru always makes jokes about blowing your back out, and he knows he's joking...right? it's just a cheeky joke he makes with one of his best friends, satoru thinks, as he's starts stroking himself more passionately.

his breath hitches, and he imagines you- no, not you, that, uh, other girl...what's her name? jessica? he imagines jessica's face tearing up as he casually rams himself deeper into your throat - no, jessica's throat!

fuck, satoru thinks, reaching closer to the edge of no return. at this point, he's shameless as he let's his fantasies run wild. he thinks of you on your knees, tongue sticking out, waiting for him to spill all over your fucked out face. satoru climaxes hard, and wishes nothing more than to watch you clean it up with your mouth.

god, satoru knows it's wrong but you both have bad habits of blurring the lines of your friendship...

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artzzyb00-27 · 1 year ago

Text

{❤️Thundershock❤️}

Normally, sleep in the lair would be peaceful. A thriving time for the boys and reader to enjoy the mundane silence away from the hectic nights. Patrol had ended 2 hours ago, and during the first one a thunder storm had stared. While that would cause panic, Donnie had a system that redirected any extra water away from their homes as to not get flooded.

While getting ready for bed, reader had been finished first and locked herself away in her personal room away from the boys. She was living there permanently after her apartment got wrecked in the invasion. She had met the boys during a late patrol night and they decided to help her out. In return of her not freaking out when first seeing them.

After a few months of living with them she began to feel safer than she did when she had her apartment. For multiple reasons of course. For one the secludedness of the lair and two, the boys were protective of their friends and family. Especially Raph. So she didn't have to worry about someone hurting her when she leaves to work and comes back.

Tonight was different, this was a different kind of danger and unsettlement. The kind that doesn't go away when your in a safe place. The thunder storm with occasional lightning strikes, had triggered her memories of when the Kraang had attacked. It didn't help that there was a possibility of them coming back. Scatterings of their technology were left behind and people began tampering with them.

So when at 4 in the morning, reader screamed in response to a louder bang in the sky, Raph jumped awake and quickly ran to his friend. For some reason he was the light sleeper of the family. Even Splinter couldn't be forced awake. While rushing into the room he accidentally slammed the door opened causing the girl to jump again.

By this point she was in heavy tears trying to calm down. Raph took a moment and looked around. No one attacked her that's for sure. Looking at her closely now he realized how bad she was crying. Paying attention at the noise above the sewer roof, rumbling from high up accord.

"What are you doing here?" she asked full paying attention to the red-clad turtle just 10 feet away from her. He got closer and sat down next to her.

"Heard ya scream. Didn't want you to get kidnapped." he replied while rubbing her back slowly. She leaned into it and fell into a trance of calm. After a while he gently scooped her up and sat on her bed with her between his legs.

After about 20 minutes of his thumb rubbing against her arm, he fell asleep too. Churring in content emotions and a peaceful rest.

The next morning they awoke to the brothers, more specifically Mikey and Donnie, taking pictures of the two cuddle buddies on the queen size bed with grey sheets and comforters. Raph was the first to awaken with a very displeased expression apparent on his green face.

"Wake up love birds! Sun's here!" Mikey gloated as he ran away with an albums worth of pictures. Donnie just chortled and walked away while closing the door. Huffing in annoyance of his siblings, Raph looked down at the sleeping girl. How she hadn't woken up with his brothers ruckus, was beyond him.

She shifted and cuddled closer into his carapace and breathed out with relaxation. He sunk into the mattress and pulled her closer. Thinking back to a few hours ago, he hoped she had slept better than what she could have if he hadn't woke up. It was a good thing she lived with them, otherwise it could have been a hell morning.

After another 5 minutes, reader stirred and sat up rubbing her eyes and yawned. Raph just watched her while glancing at the door. When she noticed she was between his thighs, her face turned red.

"Sorry, thanks for coming when you did." Raph shrugged his shoulders and picked her up putting her on his left. He grazed his thumb over her cheek and cupped the back of her head. He pulled her forward and down, then placing a kiss on the top of her head. He got off the bed and stretched, turning to her and just smiled.

Leaving the room after closing the door he began freaking out internally. Leo, who was sitting on the couch skimming through the channels on the television April and Casey had brought them, had noticed and smiled.

"Good to know you weren't having sex while Mikey's here." a pillow was thrown at his face and he laughed it off leaving on a channel that had this animated witch show Mikey liked.

#bay tmnt #bayverse tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2014 #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2016 #tmnt #tmnt 2016 #tmnt bayverse #bayverse tmnt fanfic #tmnt oots #tmnt fanfic #bayverse turtles #bayverse raphael #bayverse raph x reader

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hobiebrownismygod · 1 year ago

Note

IMAGINE Having miles suprise you by crawling into your room invisible since you guys are long distance- aka live in other dimensions ugh I need to touch some grass

Bonus points if you have strict parents so he cuddles you invisible

Wait this is actually so cute I'm obsessed 😭 I want him so badly istg he seems like he'd be the perfect boyfriend

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .MASTERLIST ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . TAGLIST ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

It'd been approximately 4 weeks, 6 days, 7 hours and 57- no, 58 minutes since you'd last seen your boyfriend, Miles Morales. Not that you were counting or anything.

You missed him.

Having an S/O that lived in another dimension definitely had its consequences, with the two of you almost never getting to see each other. Even though you had watches and could travel to each other's homes whenever you wanted, the responsibility of being Spider-man came first, and because of that it made it difficult for the two of you to really make time to see each other.

Then of course, the two of you were also teenagers, forced to attend school and keep up good grades while also shouldering the weight of being literal superheroes. That kind of stuff took a toll on a person. In fact, this particular week had been hard, to the point where you just wanted to curl up in your bed and stare at the pictures of him you had on your phone, silently praying for a chance to see him again.

But you were busy. You had midterms. You had your extracurriculars. You didn't have time.

This particular evening, you'd just arrived home from a late after-school extracurricular and taken a shower, having sat down to start working on your homework for the night when you heard a quiet scratch of the window. You looked back over at the open curtains, seeing nothing. Weird.

But your spider-sense wasn't going off, which meant it was probably nothing. You shrugged to yourself before looking back down at your notes, clutching your forehead in frustration as you tried to grasp the concepts on the sheet of paper.

And then, you watched as a small, bright yellow sunflower drifted down from above you, falling perfectly in your lap. It took a second for you to process the sight before you looked back up, a wide smile spreading across your face. "Hey, sunshine."

"Miles!" You exclaimed as you watched him appear on the ceiling above you, invisibility wearing off. He jumped down, and you immediately jumped up and pulled him into a big hug, leaving the sunflower lying daintily on the floor. "Woah" he let out a soft gasp at how tightly you squeezed him. "I-I can't breathe-" he squeaked out, struggling in your unrelenting grasp.

"I missed you so much." you whispered under your breath, practically burying your face into the soft fabric covering his chest. "Missed you too." he replied softly, arms wrapping around your was it in response to your tight, but welcomed embrace. "You okay? You look tired."

"I'm great." You said, taking a slight step back, looking him up and down with a stupid grin on your face. "I haven't seen you in a while-you look great!" You cringed at your own words, realizing how awkward you seemed.

He chuckled under his breath, lightly smiling back at you, that golden retriever look of his plastered across his face. "You look beautiful as always." He sounded fairly awkward himself, but he was handling it better than you. He pulled you in a little slightly, gently pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead.

Suddenly, both your senses went off. Miles disappeared with a pop, right as your mom entered the room. "Were you talking to someone?" She asked confusedly, looking around. You stood in the middle of the room, hands pinned down to your sides. "No." You lied, giving her a fake smile. "Just studying."

She raised an eyebrow at you before slowly and cautiously closing the door behind her as she left. You let out a sigh of relief, right before you felt your arm being pulled back. Still invisible, Miles pulled you down onto the bed, arms wrapped around your waist as he hugged you.

It was a strange sensation.

"This is so trippy..." you said under your breath. "Huh?" He asked confusedly.

"Nothing." you quickly replied, burying your face in his invisible neck, enjoying the feeling of his warmth spreading around you. "It's a little weird, but this is the easiest way for me to stay here without getting you caught." He laughed, pecking your cheek before leaning in to give you a real kiss, for the first time in a month. You returned it. "Weird is one word for it. But it doesn't matter." you said, shaking it off before snuggling into him.

"I'm just glad you're here."

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Taglist: @therealloopylupin2099 @daydreaming-en-pointe @l0starl @niqetine @gwennesy @itsparis-07 @vileviale @puff-hugs @d0ubl-tr0ubl3

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skzcollision · 1 year ago

Text

churchboy!felix x afab!reader (7/7)

| 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 |

genre: fluff, smut, teen angst

synopsis: certain expectations come with being a pastor’s daughter. in everyone’s eyes you are a properly behaved girl, albeit rather timid. according to your parents, you aren’t as devoted to the church as you should be. they entrust you to an old family friend’s son, deeming him to be a good influence. these circumstances bring you two closer together and stir up all kinds of emotions.

MINORS DNI

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“Did I ruin you?”

Felix blinks down at you through his lashes, eyes still puffy from sleep. A long beat of silence ensues as he tries to comprehend what you just asked him.

“Ha?” He scrunches up his nose in a way you find comical.

You laugh, then shake your head, turning your face back down. “Nothing. Just– thinking out loud.”

Finally succumbing to the soreness behind your lids, you let them slide back shut.

Your rest is cut short when you feel the sheets rustling and the pillow shifting beneath your head. Felix is too intrigued now to go back to sleep.

“No, talk to me.” He raises himself on his elbow.

You open your eyes, but don’t necessarily meet his. They bounce around, tracing the lines of his cupid’s bow, then his jaw. You rack your brain for a reason as to why you had even asked that in the first place.

It seemed to have slipped out on its own accord, with your thoughts running a mile a minute as you watched your lover rise to consciousness that early morning.

Maybe that question has always been at the back of your mind.

“Like, if we hadn’t met… you’d probably still be going to church, still be living with your parents.” You lock your eyes onto his, lips pulling into a tiny smile. “You’d still be a virgin.”

Air shoots out of his nose and his shoulders shake with a chuckle. “Okay, well you know I was going to move here to the city anyway. School’s in like a week, so what difference does a few more make– and technically, we are both still virgins.” He squints his eyes. “Half virgins.”

“Mm,” you relax beneath his touch as his fingers find your hair. “You get what I’m saying though?”

He shakes his head slowly, his words coming out the same. “Not really.”

You sigh, pushing yourself to sit up against the headboard. “Well you don’t really see anyone else anymore– we’re pretty much spending every waking hour together. Have been for like the past few months. And now, every sleeping hour too I guess. I drag you out here to the city, stressing you out with my family problems–“

“Woah, woah…” Felix grasps your hands in his, moving to sit up. He lowers his head to meet your eyes. “What, you think you roped me into this or something?”

“Something like that,” you nod, breathing out unhurriedly. “I doubt this is how you wanted to spend your last few weeks before school starts again.”

“Listen,” he pulls you into his arms, gently prodding your head to lay against his chest.

“I’m here with you, because I want to be. It is not because I feel sorry, or obligated. I spend every moment with you only because I want to. Even when things are tough, even when you get all snappy and bratty with me, I’m still going to want to be here. You understand?”

He lifts your chin, the purest form of sincerity in his eyes when he says, “this is fully my choice.”

You hold his gaze and nod in understanding, almost mesmerized by his words and the look on his face.

A shaky sigh slips past your lips as you muster up a response. “You think I’m bratty?”

His chest reverberates with deep laughter, the sound rolling through your ear. “Yes,” he smiles down at you in admiration. “You are… many things.”

You narrow your eyes, eventually pulling your gaze away when you feel like his is too much to handle. “I don’t know if I should feel insulted or not.”

Truly, you’re more ashamed than anything. You’ve had such a short temper lately, and he has been more than patient with you.

He chuckles, planting a lingering kiss on your hairline. “Feel like going out today?”

A gentle breeze rolls over you, ruffling your hair as you walk alongside the salty sea. The sunset paints the pale blue sky with a pinkish orange hue, warm sand sifting around your bare feet with each step.

Wanting to make the most of the remaining days of your summer, you and Felix spend all day doing touristy things around the city—something you never got the chance of doing despite living nearby all your life.

You have only been here a handful of times and even then, rarely got to do any proper sightseeing. Your parents believed that such activities were a waste of time, and only brought you to the city whenever you needed some new clothes or if you had an important appointment.

A leisure stroll at the beach is just what you need after a long day in the bustling city.

The deep timbre of Felix’s voice breaks you out of your reverie.

“You know, I’ve been wanting to talk about things for a while now.”

You glance to your side where the golden light hits his profile, highlighting the freckles across his pink-dusted cheeks.

“I’m glad you shared that with me this morning,” he says with a smile.

Your eyes drop to the shimmering sand. “Yeah, sorry. I’m not that good at communicating.”

“I know,” he says. “But is it okay if we keep talking like this?”

You nod, but not without the hesitation showing on your face.

“So what else has been on your mind?”

“Felix… I didn’t mean now.”

“Come on, healing time.” He skips in front of you, holding your sides. “Please? I don’t want you to keep these feelings to yourself. I can feel it stressing you out.”

You draw out a long sigh and meet his eyes, gentle but pleading. “Can we go sit in your car then?”

The walk back is a relatively long and quiet one, allowing you to gather your thoughts before you spill everything that has been weighing on you lately.

A heavy silence settles upon you as you sit side by side, watching the sun kiss the horizon. He doesn’t speak, and only reaches over the console, threading his fingers through yours.

“I guess– I thought all of my problems would be solved if I just got away from my parents, but somehow things are… worse. I just feel more lost than ever, I don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t know who the hell I am.”

He nods profusely, thumb sliding over the back of your hand. “Yeah, I don’t think people get to know who they are ‘til they’re like in their 40’s, maybe even later. Maybe even never– I mean, that’s not to say you never will.” Felix offers a smile. “Do you think I know what I’m doing?”

To that, you only shrug.

“No one has their life figured out at this age– and even if you make plans, nothing is guaranteed... it’s better to just enjoy and cherish every moment while you still can. Life will work itself out.”

You both fall silent once again as you let his words sink in.

It feels as though a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders, not all at once of course, but at the very least everything that needed to be said has been said.

You have been holding back due to fear—not of being judged by him, but burdening him with your worries. Although you’re beginning to realize that your relationship has taken a hit from your reticence, and you’re grateful for the gentle push Felix has given you to express your feelings.

His hand nudges against yours. “Did I make you feel better?”

Your face eases into a smile. “Yeah, those were some pretty wise words, Lix. I’m impressed.”

He then reaches over, a wide smile of relief on his face as both hands cup your cheeks. “Thank you.”

“For what,” you laugh at the unexpected proximity.

“For trusting me enough to tell me these things.”

You shake your head, lifting one hand to run your fingers through the strands of hair that stick to his temple.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you… I just don’t like dragging you down. I don’t like seeing you sad.”

“I don’t like seeing you sad either,” he says in between kisses to your wrist.

You lean over to bring your lips to his, a soft but urgent kiss. He envelops you in his arms and you melt further into him.

Felix pulls away for a brief moment. “Hey, don’t hide from me anymore, okay?” He murmurs, breath hot against your wet mouth. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t lose me,” you assure him, gripping the back of his neck to connect your mouths again.

What started as an innocent kiss escalates into a whole ‘nother thing, quicker than any of you expected. Even with him pressed up against you like this, you somehow don’t feel close enough.

Much to your disappointment, he withdraws himself from you before things can advance any further.

You whine, burying your face in his neck. He laughs, breathing hard and stroking the back of your head.

“Let’s go home first.”

“No…” You protest. Your lips land on his skin, sucking lightly. “Need you now.”

There are no other cars around and his windows are tinted. No one would see you, unless they were intentionally peering inside.

He caves. You practically throw yourself into the back, Felix in tow.

WARNING: GRAPHIC CONTENT

You move together in the cramped space, a feverish heat building between your bodies as you grope each other in the most unseemly places.

Your fingers trail up underneath his shirt, feeling the ridges of his stomach before pulling away to admire the exposed strip of skin.

A particular memory resurfaces at the sight.

The day your father had him baptized in a lake, both of you just shy of sixteen; the drenched white fabric of his shirt sticking to his body and revealing his shredded abs. That had been the time your infatuation for him began.

And now here it is in front of you again, in an entirely different context.

Felix emits a faint laugh at your gawking then quickly shoves his shirt over his head, cocking a brow at you as if to say better?

Smothering his chest with open-mouthed kisses, your hands slowly make their descent to the button of his pants.

More clothes come off, hands shaking and moving eagerly with excitement. You have already been intimate in more ways than one, yet this is the first time you are in front of each other baring it all—stark naked in the backseat of his car.

Still, you find him so beautiful, better than anything your mind could ever conjure up. With that dark look in his eyes as they roam desirously over your body, you know he feels the same way about you.

A chorus of moans rumble against your mouth as you deftly reach a hand between you to wrap your fingers around his leaking shaft.

He rests his head against the window, practically crumbling beneath your touch. You don’t take your eyes off each other this time when your mouth slides over his cock.

“Baby…” He gently pushes on your shoulders as your tongue drags along the underside. “Baby, please…” He speaks sluggishly, his tone hushed and raspy. “I’m not going to last.”

“Why,” you lift a brow, pulling your mouth away but not ceasing the movements of your hand. “Are you saving it?”

His eyes widen in fear that he had misread the situation. “I kind of assumed that we would– I mean, o- only if you want to,” he stammers.

“M’just teasing you.” You smile, wrapping your arms around him as you sit upright. “Of course I want to.” You pepper kisses along his jaw. “I’ve been wanting to do it for so long.”

To your surprise, he suddenly drops to the floor of his car, and with a light prod of his hand, you let your thighs fall open. He guides your legs over his shoulders, his mouth so close to where you want him.

Finally, his tongue laps over your clit—and you’re giggling without even realizing it, feeling giddy and almost drunk with delight.

“What?” He raises his head, smiling lightheartedly.

“Nothing, I just...” You caress his cheek, gazing upon him with affection. “Baby has always sounded so corny to me, but I like it when you call me that.”

“Mm,” he hums before lowering his mouth back onto your cunt. “Feel good, baby?” His dark eyes glitter with amusement as his face disappears between your thighs.

You can only moan in response, fingers flying to his blond locks, writhing desperately.

Eventually his fingers join his lips, slipping into you with ease. He goes down on you tenderly, the same way he would kiss you on the mouth. Less impatience than last time, and taking his sweet time working you up.

Soon enough, you unravel on his tongue, clutching a handful of his hair tightly in your fist. Felix groans low against your cunt, licking you up, rutting against the leather seat.

“Need you inside, please…”

A look of alarm flashes across his face as you drag him over you. You lay yourself down, adjusting as well as you can with the cup holder poking uncomfortably at your back.

“Shit, I just realized– I didn’t bring anything.”

“I’ll take a pill in the morning,” you plead, wrapping your legs around his hips. “Felix…”

He can’t bring himself to refuse you now; your lashes wet with tears from your previous orgasm, lips pink and swollen from kissing as you wiggle beneath him, begging for him to take you.

A quiet growl rips from him as he ravishes your mouth with an impassioned kiss, his cock gliding across your slick cunt. You moan at the familiar sensation, brought back to the last time you were both tangled up like this—doing it in a place you weren’t supposed to, just like you are now.

Pain blooms when he finally enters you.

It’s a tight fit, you’re afraid he won’t be able to go much further.

“Mmph,” he groans into your mouth, arms shaking with effort. He separates from you momentarily, concern evident on his face. “Relax for me baby, can you do that?”

You nod, trying your hardest to loosen up for him. Anything he can do to alleviate the pain, he does. His hands don’t stop touching you, softly caressing every part of your body he can reach. His mouth is everywhere, scattering kisses along your face, your neck, your collarbones.

It takes a few moments, but with his gentle touch and words of praises, telling you how you’re doing so well for him, your pain ebbs away.

Felix’s movements are a little clunky at first, but he gradually finds his rhythm, responding to your cues, and going with whatever feels right.

You begin moving as one, your bodies molding to the shape of each other, driven to give and receive pleasure.

“You’re so warm…” He whispers in between a kiss to your forehead.

“Does it feel good?” You blink innocently up at him, a teasing lilt in your voice.

“You’re seriously asking me that?” He drops his head and laughs softly against your neck, bringing a sly smirk to your face.

It doesn’t take long for your orgasms to approach.

His body drapes over you, enveloping you with his affection and warmth. Hips rocking together, minds hazy from pleasure—until all you see, taste, and feel is each other.

Time seems to stand still in this moment, and god, you truly would love to be stuck here forever.

“I love you,” he sobs against your neck. “I love you so much.”

You repeat his words, and with your hands clasped next to your head, you finish together.

You have yet to figure out your place in this world; but right now, here with Felix, is where you have felt the most at home.

⭒

author's note: sorry it took me a while to get this out! i was struggling for a bit with writer’s block. thank u all so so so much for responding very kindly and interacting with my posts. it has been rly encouraging. idk if i’ll do another series in the near future but i definitely plan on writing more so if u want to be added to my permanent taglist just let me know!

| 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 |

| taglist: @moasworld @acidgh0st @vixensss @yeetfellx @g00dtimenotlongtim3 @letrasalvientoblog @yourmercibeaucoupsblog @tfshouldidohere @sxurgrapes @babrieeee @fawnpeaks @skzswife |

#lee felix smut #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #skz felix #skz smut #stray kids #skz fanfic #lee felix fluff #skz fluff

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pimosworld · 2 years ago

Text

The story of us chapter 4

Triple frontier boys x f!reader

Summary-Set before you and the boys are officially together and how it came to be.

CW-18+,MDNI,angst,fluff,comfort,mutual pining, illusions to sex. No further warnings as to not spoil the story

WC-3.6k

Chapter summary-Benny takes you on a date.

Notes-See series Masterlist for full story notes. This chapter is so fluffy I couldn’t handle it. Benny being his sweet adorable self and Frankie being a tad jealous.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter IV Going steady ————————————

You don’t know how you ended up in this situation,Your back pressed against Frankie’s chest as he winds his arms around you pulling you closer, Benny is placing soft feather light kisses up your legs as you’re trembling trying to keep your nerves at bay. You’ve never felt so exposed and aroused at the same time. You can feel Frankie’s growing bulge pressed into your back as he kisses and nips at your neck,the sensations of both of them too much and not enough at the same time. Frankie squeezes your breast through your lace bra causing a small gasp to leave your lips as Benny breathes a hot breath just over where you need him the most. You ball your fist in the sheet as you attempt to keep your whines to yourself.

“She’s so responsive and we’ve barely touched her.” Frankie’s voice in your ear is dripping with lust as he glides his hand down your stomach.

“You should see how wet she is, Fish, it’s a beautiful sight.” Your lace panties are soaked with your arousal and you should be embarrassed at how on display you are but your body is on fire. Desperately wanting them to touch you more and more.

“I don’t need to see Ben,I can just feel.” Frankie slowly trails his fingers down lower tucking just above your waist band, you arch your back into his touch as you gasp for air. It’s like the air can’t reach your lungs and suddenly you're panicking. How did you get here? What is happening?

Your vision is starting to blur and you think you may be having a panic attack as you jolt upright…alone in your room. You’re in your bed, still fully clothed from last night as you try to gain your bearings.

The early morning sun is just starting to peek through your windows as you calm your breathing. You lay back with a thud on your pillow as you stare at the ceiling unsure of what just transpired.

Did you seriously just have an almost sex dream about two of your best friends?

Grappling with the fact that you’re upset it ended so soon. You had a boyfriend less than 24 hours ago. It’s too soon to be having these thoughts, or maybe it’s too late.

You need a shower and some food and maybe a therapist to help figure out these thoughts, but first shower.You make your way to your attached bathroom and peel off your clothes from last night, stopping first to admire yourself in the mirror. It’s the first time in months despite your dream that you’ve felt this good. Mike had completely destroyed your self esteem, it wasn’t like you to feel such negative thoughts about yourself. You’ve always been confident in your appearance and the way you carried yourself. It’s like you’re looking at a new person but somehow the same person from before.

As the hot water washes over you, you can wash away all the things you’ve held back for the last several months. It’s not bittersweet at all,knowing your boys all but forcibly removed him from your life so that you could live a better one.

You can’t kick the feeling from your dream, what it felt like having them touch you, or imagine what it would feel like as you draw your fingers between your legs. Touching yourself where you wanted Frankie to, as he almost did before your brain rudely ripped you from your fantasy. Your fingers aren’t nearly as big and long as his as you slowly pump your fingers, your thumb drawing circles around your clit as your breathing picks up. Soft whimpers of his name leave your lips as you come down from your climax.

****

“Remind me to never sleep on the floor again.” Santi groans and stretches his back as he sits up against the couch. Silently cursing himself for not jumping on the guest bedroom before Will.

“Well at least you didn’t have Ben's foot in your face all night.” Frankie is somehow sandwiched between both of Ben's legs and unsuccessfully tries to pry the younger man off.

“I slept great.” Ben's muffled voice into the couch pillow is barely audible.

Will saunters into the room looking pleasantly pleased with himself and definitely well rested.

“I’m gonna start some coffee, and see what she’s got in the fridge for breakfast.”

“I’ll help,I need to get off this hard floor before I end up stuck here.” Santi isn’t sure what creaks the most when he stands,the floor or his bones and he can hear Benny chuckling into the couch pillow.

“I’ll go check on sleeping beauty.” Frankie tosses the younger man aside so he can stand and stretch. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and pick up the living room.” He groans but obeys.

Frankie knocks lightly on your door awaiting a response before he slowly opens it. You’re not in the bed obviously as he takes in your clothes from last night leading a trail to the bathroom. He can hear the water running through the small crack in the door.

He hasn’t been in your room in awhile as he makes his way over to your dresser, a small smile tugs at his lips as he stares at the photo of the five of you in delta. You’re sprawled across them as they hold you up, Ben insisted on the photo and Tom begrudgingly took it not wanting to be a part of the “shenanigans” as he put it.

He’s pulled from the memory as he hears you crying? Of course you’re upset, the dramatics of the entire night probably caught up with you this morning. He hopes you’re not having second thoughts but how could you want someone like Mike back in your life. They should leave when you’re out of the shower to give you some privacy.

Your cries turn to whimpers and he faintly hears his name, suddenly his feet don’t work as he’s rooted to the spot in your room.

“Frankie.”

He’s absolutely sure of it now and he still can’t will his feet to move, he wants to move toward you but that would be inappropriate. Maybe not more inappropriate than what he was currently doing. He knows what you’re doing in the shower but he can’t let his mind wander too far into why you’re saying his name. If he does he’ll have a hard time explaining the growing bulge in his pants or why he’s been in your room for so long.

The sound of the shower turning off finally has him moving quickly out of the room before you emerge from the bathroom in whatever state you’re in that certainly wouldn’t help him.

“Did you help our girl wake up?” Benny says from the kitchen island already eating of course.

“What!…no she was awake, she was in the shower.” He’s stammering over his words as if they had any idea what he heard.

Get a grip man

“She’ll be out soon I’m sure.” Will looks at him awkwardly over his coffee mug as Frankie slides up next to Benny.

Santi hands him a mug of black coffee as he raises an eye at him. “ You look like you need this…maybe too much tequila last night?”

Frankie takes off his signature cap as he runs his fingers nervously through his hair. “Ya maybe.”

****

The smell of coffee and bacon wafts through your house as you make your way to the kitchen.

Santi,Frankie and Will are settled at your kitchen table engaging in quiet conversation. The sight is so domestic and welcoming you can't help the smile that spreads across your face. You missed this so much, it’s hard to press down the pang of guilt that you feel for shutting them out of your lives for someone who didn’t deserve to be a part of it.

You don’t have time to comment on Benny missing from the table before you’re being hoisted in the air causing you to yelp in surprise.

“Jesus Ben put her down.”

“She’s fine Will, isn’t that right sweetheart?”

His strength never ceases to amaze you and right now with your dream still fresh in your mind, you wished he would do anything but put you down.

“I’ll be fine after some coffee and food.”

He places you down and turns you to face him as he places a kiss on your forehead. His hands suddenly feel hot on your skin as you stare into those baby blue eyes. Somewhere behind you you hear a throat clear and Benny releases you from his grip.

“Coffee and food coming right up sweetheart.”

Frankie sends an interesting look towards Benny but casts his eyes down to his plate once he meets yours. You know he has no idea what you dreamed of or what you did in the shower but you can’t help shake that feeling,like he knows something. He can’t possibly know.

“I see we have a thief among us.” Santi grins sickeningly sweet at you as he sips his coffee.

“I’m sorry, did I take something from you?” You reach across the table to grab a piece of his bacon as he captures your wrist playfully.

“Oh no no, you can’t have my shirt and my bacon.”

“I’ve taken temporary ownership of this shirt,technically that’s not stealing.” There’s a glint in his eye as he slowly lets go of your wrist.

This is a very dangerous game you’re playing

“Breakfast is served and coffee is just as sweet as you.” Benny slides into the seat next to you with a plate twice the size of yours. It never ceases to amaze you how much that boy could eat.

“Someone’s laying it on thick.” Frankie half mumbles to himself, you don’t catch it but the rest of them do as you all finish your breakfast in silence.

****

“Will I swear if you try and wash those dishes I’m never gonna let you leave,you’ve already done enough.” You gently wrap your arms around his waist and pull him from the kitchen sink.

“Alright sweetheart but I will be back on my day off to fix that hole, I’m not taking no for an answer.” You raise your arms in defeat knowing that there’s no point arguing once he’s set his mind to something.

Being alone sounds like the last thing you want right now but you know they’ve got things to do and you can’t ask anymore of them, at least not yet. Santi leaves first promising to check on you in the coming days.

Frankie hasn’t quite been himself since the night before but promises to call you, he said he needed to talk to you in private which wasn’t out of the ordinary but something about it left you feeling uneasy. As Frankie and Will make their way out Ben has made his way into the kitchen to help you clean, so uncharacteristically like him.

“Ben let’s go, Frankie is our ride.” Will glances at Ben, words unspoken between them in silent communication.

“Ugh ya just give me a minute I’ll be right out.” Will hesitantly waits in the door but acquiesces to head outside.

“You don’t have to help me finish, I promise I’ve washed dishes before.” He seems nervous suddenly quieter than you’ve ever known him to be. He looks over his shoulder ensuring you’re alone.

“ I was wondering if maybe you wanted to grab dinner and a movie later?”

“I’d love to, but I thought the guys were busy tonight?” You haven’t looked up from the dishes so of course you don’t notice him staring at you, hoping you’ll see in his eyes what he’s truly asking without having to say it out loud.

“No, I…meant maybe just you and I?” You stop for a moment to look at him. It’s the first time since last night that you feel something growing there. A side of him that’s vulnerable and sincere.

He’s holding his breath and he’s not sure how long it’s been, seconds or minutes awaiting your response. It’s torture and he thinks maybe he’s misread this whole thing and that Santi was right. He’s completely screwed this up and now he’ll have to live with the awkwardness of your rejection. Maybe he can move to another country like Santi does every few years and you’ll forget he ever asked.

“I’d love to.” Whatever this is, you know you can’t second guess yourself anymore. You’ll dive headfirst into new territory because the butterflies in your stomach are telling you to leap. You can’t help the laughter that escapes as he lets out an audible breath.

“I’ll pick you up at seven, dress casual.”

“Oh so you’ve had time to think this through, I’m impressed.” His cheeks grow hot at the flattery as you dry your hands and stare deep into his eyes, he leans in pulling you into a hug as he inhales your scent. The honk of Frankie’s truck snaps you out of your blissful moment and you can hear his silent curse as he releases you from his arms.

“I’ll see you later,Honey.”

Watching him walk the short path down your steps doesn’t feel bittersweet anymore. There’s a new excitement there of what’s to come.

****

Golden Girls

I've got a hot date tonight 😋

Pope 🙏🏼: Sounds nice who's the lucky guy?

Haha obviously it’s Honey

Bro:Don’t be out late you have training early

Ay ay captain 🫡

BDM🐈🐠:Goodluck

I don’t need luck I have my boyish good looks 😏

Pope🙏🏼: Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do

Poor choice of words

Pope🙏🏼: I’m serious

I will be on my best behavior

****

It’s actually pretty embarrassing how much time you’ve spent trying to find something to wear tonight. It’s not like he hasn’t seen you in all your various outfits over the years. Your room looks like a bomb went off as you desperately tried to finish getting ready and notice it’s already 6:45. This is supposed to be a casual date, so why does it feel like you’re going to a highschool dance with your first crush.

You finally decide on jeans and a black v neck blouse, heels are definitely too formal so you opt for some strappy black sandals to match. It’s just dinner and a movie get a hold of yourself.

The doorbell rings a moment later,not to your surprise. You all couldn’t shake the punctuality of being in the military. It dawns on you that you didn’t even bother to ask where you were going or what movie you were seeing,not that it mattered but curiously you wonder what sort of date would Ben plan for you. Not some tinder date or a girl he just met but you.

When you open the front door you’re greeted by a very smiley handsome man with a bouquet of flowers. A very large bouquet.

“I didn’t think it was appropriate to let myself in two nights in a row.” It’s bold of him to try and joke about the previous night's events so soon and perhaps a mistake when your mouth falls agape. But he’s relieved at your laughter as you grab the bouquet with one hand and playfully smack his chest with the other.

“Did you buy the entire floral shop?” You tease as you make your way to the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase, it’s on a shelf you can’t reach, never bothering to bring it down since Mike never bought you flowers.

“I didn’t know if you had a favorite but you don’t seem like the rose type so I picked the rest.” He walks up behind you pressing his back to yours as he reaches above you for the vase. Your heart stops for a moment as you fill the vase with water,he’s barely moved an inch and you can feel the heat radiating off his body.

“These are beautiful,thank you.” You turn to face him and finally take in his appearance. He’s wearing a black button down and jeans, his hair is slicked back. You’re so used to his mussed up golden locks that it takes you aback.

“We’re matching like those couples who’ve been together a long time.” Oh my god what did you just say. Evidently you want to make this as awkward as possible before the date even starts.

“I mean…I don’t mean we’re a couple, it’s just we’re matching and.” He can’t help but laugh, your nervous rambling actually puts him at ease. He had been so nervous all day that it hadn’t occurred to him that you were in the same predicament.

“Sweetheart don’t worry, we can pretend to be one of those couples…it’ll be our little secret.”

“Oh I’m glad you find this amusing.” You lightly shove at his chest and move to grab your purse from the kitchen table. “By the way I never asked where we’re going.”

“Well you know that theater downtown?” You nod patiently waiting for his response. “Once a month they show old movies and I know how much you love Romeo and Juliet, so I figured we could see that.” He shuffles nervously on his feet, watching your movements as you stare blankly at him.

“We could always do something else if I totally misread this.” It’s your turn to laugh now because of course he remembered how much you loved that movie and why you settled for so long you’re unsure.

“I would love to pretend to be a couple and see Romeo and Juliet.” You clasp your hands together and pop your foot as he looks at you unamused.

“Okay so you think this is funny, well dinner isn’t as romantic unfortunately, I figured since we’re going to the movie first we could get burgers at Jim’s diner down the street.” It’s a relief that you’re not going to a fancy dinner honestly, you don’t think your heart could handle much more.

“As long as we share a milkshake like those pretend couples do.”

“Sure thing Honey.”

****

You and Ben were having too much fun pretending to be a couple. It helped calm your nerves though. It wasn’t awkward at all when he held your hand to walk into the theater or when he placed his arm around you so that you could rest comfortably on him while you watched the movie. He even went as far as feeding you popcorn despite your protests.

You could tell that he watched you for most of the film, as hard as he tried to hide it. Every time you looked at him during one of your favorite parts it seemed he was already looking at you. Enjoying the way you were so at peace. He could definitely get used to this. Nothing about it felt wrong, it felt like coming back to a place you had lost.

You shared a chocolate milkshake like he had promised and couldn’t contain your laughter when the waitress said you made a very cute couple.

He held your hand as he drove you the whole way home and you secretly hoped he wasn’t pretending anymore.

“I’ll walk you up to your house like a true gentleman.” Oh, you assumed he would at least want to come in for a little but maybe this was some act to take your mind off the breakup. Maybe you had misread the entire thing and soon things would go back to the way they were. He can sense you’re spiraling, but you’re already opening the car door to evade this embarrassment.

“Hey,talk to me where did you go?” He’s practically chasing you as you try to reach your doorstep.

“I just thought you might want to come in for a little but…it’s nothing I’m just being sensitive.” Now is absolutely not the time to cry as you try and look anywhere but his concerned eyes. He slowly grabs your hands so as not to startle you as he rubs soothing circles on your wrists.

“I would love to come in and stay and continue being a pretend couple but Will has me on a strict schedule and I promised him I’d be home to get some rest.” You can’t say you’re not disappointed but definitely relieved.

“Sorry I may have overreacted. It's just been a crazy 24 hours.” He laughs and shakes his head as he pulls out his key to your house to let you in. “I promise our next date I’ll stay for as long as you want me too.” He starts the walk down your path and you swear you could get used to him walking away.

As you close your front door, you’re met with a knock on the other side. He’s standing there waiting on the threshold and you couldn’t wipe the confused look off your face if you tried.

“I forgot something.” You don’t remember him bringing anything and you don’t have a chance either as he steps into your space grabbing your face with both hands as he leans in and kisses you. Instinctively you lean into it as he cradles your head and wraps an arm around your waist pulling you into him. It’s nothing like you’ve ever felt and maybe a little like Romeo and Juliet. As you part ways to catch your breath he’s just staring at you with a wide smile on his face.

“Pretend couples always kiss.”

Yes, you were in a very dangerous game.

Prev/Next

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

@luciferiorbxtch @casa-boiardi @alwaysdjarin @meveispunk @littlenosoul @evyiione @spngingerbread21 @shesa-riott @quijano5702 @the-fox-den @saturn-rings-writes @romanarose

Tagged a few extra who I thought might be interested in chapter updates

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hanmaitani · 6 months ago

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Life Lately

PAIRING - Oikawa Tooru x Reader WC - 1.0K GENRE - Angst SYNOPSIS - life lately looks a lot like containing yourself to your room. like voluntary solitary isolation's the right thing to do.

PREV PART | MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

A week and a half.

It had been a week and a half since Tooru had broken up with you.

Only a week and a half.

And only 4 days since you'd said goodbye to the house you'd lived in together.

You sniffled a little bit at the memories and pulled your blanket up to your chin as you stared at the window of your small room.

A small knock on the door made you turn your head slightly to look at the piece of wood. Like you would suddenly develop x-ray vision and see the figure on the other side without having to get up.

"y/n? You awake?" You bit your lip ad stayed quiet at the sound of Toshiko's voice.

You felt bad. She was being nice enough to let you drag a good amount of your things into her spare room for the time being. Refusing to even let you pay a portion of the rent.

"I just haven't seen you in a few days." She sounded worried but you couldn't bring yourself to call back. Instead, you swallowed hard and shifted, pulling the blanket fully over your head as you curled into yourself.

You'd spent the first day at her apartment being extremely productive. You'd set up your room, gotten a huge assignment turned in for school finally. You'd put in paperwork requests for an apartment with another friend.

And then you'd gone to bed and barely gotten out of it since.

There had been no response about the apartment. About the assignment. About the job you were waiting for. Everything was quiet. And so you were too.

You'd left your self-isolated room for the bathroom and that was it. And only when you knew Toshiko wasn't home or was already shut up in her own room.

You listened to the sound of Toshiko's sigh as she walked away from the door. You let out a sigh of your own.

There was a feeling of irritation against your leg and you swiped your hand across the sheet only to catch some crumbs from chips you'd eaten earlier. You let out a quiet, dry laugh, disappointment lacing the sound, and shook your head.

The clock on your phone screen read 7am.

You only buried your head back into the pillows again. Not that it did you any good.

You'd been awake for at least 8 hours, occasionally scrolling through social medias and spacing out. Staring at the wall and then the ceiling and then the window.

You really did hate yourself when you got like this. Containing yourself to your room.

But you'd convinced yourself that no one wanted to see you like this. Not even yourself. With bags under your constantly glassy eyes.

You could be happy for a moment. Every now and then. Forgetting what had happened and laughing. And then in two seconds it could feel like a switch went off in your brain. Like you were his with a brick of reality.

Voluntary solitary isolation had to be the right way to go about it. To keep my friends from suffering through watching me go through this.

It was no different than anything else, you told yourself. You would find a way to heal on your own and then at some point you would be okay enough that your friends wouldn't notice.

After what felt like only a few minutes of playing with the piece of jewelry that used to symbolize you and Tooru's relationship, a ringing drew your attention.

You glanced at your phone again. The clack read 11am.

You swallowed nervously as you say Hajime's name dance across your screen.

You sat up, coughing to clear your throat. Desperate to try and make it sound like this wasn't the first time you'd used your voice in a few days. And then you answered the call.

"Hey, Haji." You winced at the hoarseness of your own voice but Hajime seemed to ignore it.

"Hey, y/n, I just wanted to check in with you. No one's heard from you in a couple days." You laughed softly in response, a half-hearted sound trying to soothe his nerves as you heard him hold back a sigh.

"Don't worry, Haji," you glanced around your room. There were a few cups and dishes next to your bed, the only ones you had in this apartment. Ones you'd refused to get up long enough to put away. "I've just been trying to catch up on some school work." You lied straight through your teeth.

If he knew that you were lying, he didn’t say anything. Let you lie to him about what you’d been doing holed up in your room alone.

"Y/n, you know that just because we're friends with Oikawa," the sound of his name sent a pang through your heart, "it doesn't mean that we're not here for you." He let out another sigh. "Y/n we care and wanna help if we can."

You stared at the pile of clothes in the basket that you’d brought over from your last place. You’d gotten ambitious during your one day of productivity and washed it all, attempting to wash off any trace of him, any trace of the heartbreak.

They’d been sitting there since.

"Don't worry, Haji, really." You would get to it soon, fold it all up and hang it up nicely. "I just need a little bit of time and I'll be all good."

After years of knowing you, it only took a few seconds of conversation for him to know when he would be getting nowhere with you. "If you're sure?" He hesitated, not wanting to give up on me quite yet. "Would it hurt to get out for just a night?" He tried to push one last time.

The words were right on the tip of your tongue again, "Don't worry, Haji." I winced at the meaning behind my half-hearted assurance.

Don't worry, I'm sure that it'll be any day now that I decide I've served my time and I let myself out.

a/n thanks for coming to the free therapy of fictionalizing my irl breakup experiences. yes this actually happened. partially based on an unreleased song by @/leannafirestone on tiktok

TAGLIST - OPEN @all-in-the-fandoms @pearl-blue-musings @winniethepooh-lover

#oikawa angst #oikawa toru angst #oikawa x reader #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa fanfiction #oikawa toru fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #𓇻 Desiderium

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zilabee · 2 years ago

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Derek Burrell-Davis - memo to BBC (May 67): “I had a satisfactory two-hour meeting with all four members of the Beatles Group this evening…..I don’t think it is over-stating it to say that they are enthusiastic about their participation in the ‘Our World’ programme and fully aware of the responsibilities they carry. Their approach is extremely professional and they are in complete agreement with the basic idea, which is that they are undertaking a recording session in the Number One Studio at E.M.I., Abbey Road. They cannot yet forecast what they will be doing in any great detail, but they propose writing a new number. Since this number will be heard in 30 countries, they are going to write the lyric in basic English. They suggest that they should use such words as “Hello, love, you, me, us, them, together, we”. They are wondering if it might be possible to use some of those words in different languages and are receptive to the idea that words such as “love”, “together”, etc. might be shown on large cards at appropriate moments in several languages”.

The BBC/broadcasters briefing meeting on 4 June 1967 to co-ordinate the international co-operation for the Our World Broadcast

The lyrics sheet given to the cameramen before broadcast. They were not impressed. On being told the Beatles wrote the music, they only asked "did they write the words as well?"

“...the day before, the doors were thrown open for a free-for-all picture session, at which I managed to have a quick word with — PAUL: Someone’s just asked if I’m leaving the group. And there seems to be another rumour I’m moving. Both are very wrong. I’ve just finished my house and like it a lot. No, I haven’t bought a kilt yet. GEORGE: We will do a TV show before we do a film. Nothing new to tell you about the film project. No script yet. RINGO: My garden is looking great now. Got some of my building men to help the gardening contractor and everything’s okay. JOHN: This song will be our next single. This TV show will give it a nice send-off.

Indeed, with some 6,500 TV workers and 1,000,000 miles of telephone wire working for the disc, it couldn’t be bad!” - - Andy Gray, NME

“When the musicians and TV crew took a meal break the Beatles tried out the musical instruments left lying around [...] Ringo and George try the trumpets, whilst Paul has a go at the trombone and John plays Jack Emblow’s accordion. In the background, in the left side far corner, the large weight box on the back of the Mole Crane is visible, with one of the white painted Murphy TV monitors on its trolley over on the right of the picture.” - - David Taylor, Postfade

“The BBC want a live trail”, Derek told me suddenly over my intercom. No one knew this had been planned, in fact to this day few people seem to know that such a promotion ever took place. [...]

“I had a few words with each of them in turn. What was the song called? Whose idea had it been? (“His”, they said, pointing to each other). And then I put the question to John that was intriguing me. Ninety-five percent of all popular music is in 4-time, but there was more than a hint of unfamiliar 7-time in “All You Need ls Love“.

“Did you know your song was in 7-time?” I asked. I still remember the cool, serious look he gave me as he replied, “Yes, I know”. Then he indicated Paul, adding “- but blame him”.

“Paul himself, alert as ever, noticed how, against my own instincts, I was trying to inject some breezy gaiety into the proceedings. He spoke encouragingly in my ear. “Yock it up, Steve ! ” he said. He knew that it was my preference to be in the narrator’s box doing a technical job, rather than “yocking it up”. I duly yocked.”

“This was the biggest group in the world, but when they went to the canteen, it was just four guys having a cup of tea. Underneath it all, these were ordinary guys who were in a band.” - - David Magnus (photographer)

“There was a real party atmosphere, similar to what we had witnessed during previous real ‘happenings’, but Richard and I were struck by how visibly nervous John was, which was quite unusual for him: we’d never seen him wound up so tightly.” - - Geoff Emerick

“I did sense that John in particular felt rather apprehensive the nearer to transmission we got. However George seemed to be enjoying the moment, while Ringo and Paul showed no apprehension whatsoever.” - - David Magnus

______________________________

Almost this entire post is stolen from postfade.co.uk, written by David Taylor. It's a wonderful write up because it's only actually interested in the cameras used and the technical setup, but it's so interested in those that it covers every moment in glorious detail and pulls together lots of quotes. If you're interested in the ins and outs of outside broadcasting, oh my. There's a cut out diagram of the OB scanner van, and they've taken the video of the entire broadcast and marked up up to show the different camera shots and cuts and equipment used. There's a bit where they read in a book that some of the broadcast wasn't live, and so the author tracks down who wrote that and he says he copied it from Mark Lewisohn, so they track down ML and ask him why he wrote that and ML can't remember but says 'I wouldn't have written it down if there wasn't evidence for it', which they think is a bit weak, so they decide not to believe it. It's nice to see them belittling ML's lifework because they want to believe in the magic of live outside broadcasting, the same way we do when we want to believe in love.

#long post #sorry I guess #beatles day #all you need is love #love love #I love how much the cameramen were given that lyric sheet #and were just like what the fuck even is this????#<333333 #the beatles #john lennon #[]

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munsonsreputation · 2 years ago

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congrats on 500!!!!! 💞💞💞💞💞

i wanna request #4 with you’re on your own, kid and steve. he grew up not having many friends / not real friends and he’s kinda had to look out for himself since he was young, but now he finally has people, including a gf who cares about him v much and makes it v known that he’s not alone anymore (and who maybe grew up similarly? ). 🫶 maybe steve kinda has a hard time with it at first tho cuz abandonment / trust issues 💔

hi j!!!!!

im so sorry that this took so long for me to complete, but i hope i was still able to to your request justice!!! i 110% believe that steve harrington is yoyok coded and if he heard this song he would have a whole ass breakdown thinking about his life.

i had such a fun time writing this and it was really really heartfelt!!! i hope you love it and thank you so much for your support!!! 🧸🌃💘

Birthdays were never easy nor special for Steve Harrington, mostly because his parents never made it a big event or celebration to be getting older.

Instead, it was treated more as a lecture. His parents would bring him to a fancy restaurant. His mother would sit quietly, bowing her head as his father went on and on about how Steve needed to be more responsible so that he could work for his company.

Steve would have to patiently sit through two grueling hours of that dinner. Poking and prodding at his steak and mashed potatoes as he pretended to listen. There was no singing happy birthday. No making wishes or blowing out candles. No surprise presents or hugs from either of his parents. Just the mere reminder that getting older meant getting more miserable.

But at some point, his parents must have gotten the hint that their idea of a birthday celebration wasn’t appreciated nor wanted by their son. So instead of trying to make up for those lost years, they stopped trying all together. Awkwardly handing him a card full of cash—not that Steve wasn’t grateful for it, but simply a hug or even a genuine smile from them would have sufficed just as much.

So yeah, Steve’s birthday was never his favorite time of the year, but he vowed to make everyone else’s special.

He went big for everyone’s birthday. Full fledge themes and decorated houses. Whole sheet cakes with an immense amount of candles. Birthday hats and noisemakers. Messily wrapped, yet jaw dropping presents that he knew his friends were dying for.

All of Steve Harrington’s friends had the best birthdays because of him.

But his girlfriend…even better.

Steve threw you elaborate celebrations ever since you two had begun dating. Your favorite one so far is when he turned his parents’ home into a huge escape room for you and your friends. Everyone dressed up in their best outfits and roamed around the house, trying to find the clues he had planted hours ago. He pretended like he didn’t have any idea, not even giving you a single hint as you squeezed his hand and begged.

Eventually, though, you all figured it out, and then he gifted you a key to his home as one of the gifts. Your favorite gifts he had ever given you. Mostly because it allowed you to drop in and visit him whenever you missed him, but especially because it got you into his home to set up a birthday celebration of his own.

You knew Steve wasn’t fond of his own birthday. All of his friends knew it was a touchy subject, so they didn’t go all out, but you were more than determined to make up for all those years. Steve had made your birthday so special and you wanted to show him how loved he was.

“He’s here!” You screeched quietly, peeking away from the living room curtains completely dimming the space where you and your friends were hiding.

In order to properly execute Steve’s surprise party, he unfortunately worked his entire shift alone. Robin had called a few minutes after he clocked in with a convincing story of how she caught the cold just the night before. She even hung up the phone without greeting him a happy birthday, and though he hated his birthday, he missed the annoying greetings that his friends would offer countless amount of times until the clock struck midnight.

The only greeting he received today was from you, early in the morning, before he had gotten up and got ready for work. Your voice dripping with sweetness and palpable slumber as you serenaded him with happy birthday and told him that you loved him a million times. You reminded him of the “plans” you had made, for him to pick you up after work and go to a fancy restaurant a few minutes into town.

That was essentially the only thing keeping Steve going for the rest of his sad twenty-second birthday. The moment for him to finally see you face to face and pretend to endure a night full of annoying happy birthdays coming from his favorite girl, when it sounded the sweetest coming from you.

You listened as the keys jingled from the other side of the door and watched as the lock turned open, before hopping up from your spot on the floor, followed by the others.

“Happy Birthday, Stevie!”

The shouting filled the room, along with the noisemakers and whistles coming from you and his friends. The entire area decorated with balloons and streamers hanging from the ceiling.

You, front and center with your arms expanded, greeting him with a smile big enough to take up the rest of your face. A party hat sitting perfectly at the top of your head as he made his way over with an exceptionally big smile on his face, enough to show his appreciation for the tricks he knew were up your sleeve.

“Babe!” you screeched with a laugh, draping your arms around his neck as he hoisted you a few inches off the ground and laid a kiss on your lips, thanking you for this.

You could feel the smile seeping from his face as he continued to kiss you. The kind of smile within a kiss where you can feel his teeth and lips just rest upon yours, taking everything in before he kissed you again.

“Break it up you two!” Robin joked, stretching the elastic of a party hat over Steve’s head and snapping it in place.

He winced dramatically, as you giggled, staying by his side as all his friends took the time to give him a hug and warm wishes.

For once in his life, his heart swarmed with a whirlwind of emotions for someone other than you who could evoke such a feeling. He loved his friends, he always had, but this was something that they did not only out of the kindness of their hearts, but with taking the chance, knowing that he wasn’t fond of his birthday.

The children seemed more excited than him, thrusting a messily wrapped box in his hands as they swarmed around you and him, “Here open it!”

“You’re supposed to wait until present time, idiots!” Eddie snickered, knowing exactly what was in the box and why the kids were so excited to present it to Steve in the first place.

Dustin flashed Eddie the middle finger from behind, keeping his eyes on his dearest babysitter with a toothy smile on his face, “Open it! You’re gonna love it!”

Steve looked at you, a grin on his face as you nodded and rested your hands on his shoulders when he began shredding away at the paper with ease. The pure expression, like a little kid opening the best present on Christmas morning flashing to your eyes as you watched him realize what it was.

A pair of sneakers that he had been eyeing since the footlocker displayed the shoe a few months ago. He’d been telling you that he was going to pull the trigger and buy it one of these days, but alas he never did. Just merely admiring the leather behind the glass of the store and walking past it as he clocked in and out of work.

Originally, you were planning on buying it for Steve’s birthday gift, but the kids seemed more adamant about wanting to band together in order to purchase the special gift for their one of a kind favorite babysitter.

“Holy shit…did you guys rob the footlocker?” He sought stunned, plucking up one of the pairs and inspecting the material.

El and Max both giggled, rattling their heads as they explained, “We all saved for the last couple of weeks. Me and El babysat Holly for a few bucks. Dustin and Lucas went around mowing lawns. And Will and Mike did a few car washes.”

“And what about me?” Eddie chided in again, as if he was the savior of this plan the children had hatched out.

Dustin groaned, turning around towards Eddie then back to Steve, “And Eddie gave us a ride to the mall to pick it up.”

Looking around the room at the knuckleheads he had babysat since his junior year of high school, they’d grown so much, and really were the kindest kids in Hawkins. Sure, they loved to give him a hard time now and then, but it was out of love, and doing something as nice as this—taking up what literally was part-time jobs to get him something as sentimental as this was everything to him.

He settled the box on the ground, opening his arms as he closed his eyes and nodded his head. “C’mere…c’mon.”

“Happy Birthday, Stevo.” El whispered, being the first of the kids who settled into his side and embraced him affectionately before the others followed suit.

Your heart warmed at the sight, taking in the precious moments like this where Steve really was the kind of man who was grateful for the little twerps that made his life a little more interesting. He never grew up with siblings himself, or really any family members around his age, and part of this felt like it was healing his inner child—the little Steve who craved for family that actually cared about him.

The hug only last a few seconds, but Jonathan managed to capture a photo that would definitely be framed and put on a shelf in Steve’s bedroom. When the children pulled away, and Steve reached under him for the box, he turned towards you.

“Gonna head upstairs and put these away. Can you come with me?”

You smiled, nodding your head, taking his free hand and following him up the steps and into his bedroom where he had shut the door. You took it upon yourself to take a seat on the end of his bed, watching his back while he shuffled through his closet, trying to find space for his new kicks.

“I’m kinda impressed the kids managed to save up all that money in a few weeks.” You laughed, resting on your elbows, as Steve didn’t respond.

What you couldn’t see were the tears welling up in his eyes, but you didn’t miss the small croak he had let out in an attempt to swallow off the sob.

“Babe, what’s the matter?”

Your voice was soft and soothing, taking you from his bed right to him, where you placed a comforting hand on his back and leaned forward to see more of him.

His eyes sealed tightly and his bottom lip trapped between his teeth to fight off the urge to just cry into your arms. He couldn’t pinpoint these emotions, and the first thing he thought in his mind was being angry at himself when he should be happy because his girlfriend and his friends did this amazing thing for him.

Steve shook his head, still not uttering a word, yet following you when you took his hand and sat the two of you on his bed. He felt the silly party hat come off his head where you pulled it off and did the same to yours.

“D-did the party upset you? I’m so sorry, Steve, I just wanted to plan something special because you also do something special for everyone else’s birthday.”

He couldn’t just let you sit there, assuming this was your fault because it wasn’t. And if anything, Steve was just so elated that this was even happening, but he was also so new to this kind of thing.

“No, no, it’s not your fault.” He captured your hand and swiped away at his tears with the other.

Your eyes wandered up to his face, giving his hand a firm squeeze when you searched his teary eyes, “You can tell me what’s the matter…I’m always here to listen.”

Steve knew you were always the shoulder he could cry on and the ears who would listen to his endless thoughts. He had opened up before about birthdays and how his were always difficult to face, so it wasn’t necessarily fresh news to you.

“I—I don’t feel alone.” He stammered a little ache in his speech, but swiftly dispelled with a slight smile.

You tilted your head sideways, trying to make sense of his words, “I don’t think I understand?”

Steve nodded, swallowing and taking a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts so that he wouldn’t spend an hour with you up here, venting about everything he was feeling.

“I guess, I never viewed my birthday as something special, you know?” He said, looking at you and you nodded, rubbing your fingers across his palm, calming him.

“I’d just used to sit at home and avoid my parents because they didn’t know how to handle my birthday either…but it’s like for the first time, I was actually glad that it was my birthday, to have you, and all my friends here for me.” He clarified.

You knew that there was still more he wanted to say, as he took a deep breath and squeezed your hand back, “I—I’m just terrified of losing it or…or even believing that so many people would care enough about me to want to celebrate me.”

He let out a shaky breath, tearing his eyes away from you and staring at his floor, trying to make sense of everything in his mind.

But suddenly you spoke, reached over to grab ahold of his hand where he looked back into your sparkling eyes.

“Steve, you have no clue how much me and the rest of our friends love you—you’re the rock of our friendships and our lives, basically.” You chuckled, watching as he shook his head in disbelief.

But you nodded, eyes going a little wide, and you started again.

“Seriously, I mean it. You’re the person who always organizes and plans everyones birthday party. You force the kids to make up when they’re all fighting over stupid shit. You’re the first person I call about good news, bad news, hell, all the news because you’re my rock and I care for you so much. More than words can even begin to describe.”

Your fingers loosened from his, instead holding his cheeks in his hand where you could feel the skin lift as he smiled against you. Those teary glossy eyes turned into the pools of happiness and warmth, staring back at his person.

You knew that Steve struggled a lot with accepting love, but you also knew that there was a part of Steve that always believed in loving everyone around him. You just needed to help him see that.

“I know your parents might not have been the best, but that’s the beauty of life…” Your thumbs swept across the high points of his face, and Steve swore he could feel your the pulse in your fingertips that rested, comfortable on the rest of his face.

“Because family doesn’t always have to be blood. Family can be the ones you choose to keep in your life, so even if at one point you felt like you were alone when you were a kid, you’re not anymore. Because I’m here, we’re here, and that’s something that no one can take away from you.”

Your voice and your words were like a calm wave meeting his shore of horrible childhood experiences that he had to endure all alone. Now suddenly washing all of that away. Your eyes gawking passionately into his was like another wave, this time leaving behind him with a shore that was fresh. New shells of memories embedded into the sand and for once in his life he let go.

Steve let go of all of that pent up anger and resentment, replacing it with contentment and hope. He knew that he probably would never have the greatest relationship with either of his parents, but he had you to look forward to. He had his chosen family that he knew would always be there no matter what.

For once, he felt like a weight lifted off of his shoulders from being afraid of embracing the people he loved and the same love they held for him. That this moment wasn’t too good to be true, it was just true. A moment that he wanted to take and taste forevermore.

“I love you.” He grinned, taking his hands and pulling you close enough to connect your lips.

Everything in the past that Steve let go was a new step he was taking, one where you would always hold him and stand by.

You breathed him in, appreciating Steve and everything that made him who he was. That today was a special celebration of showing the person you loved how grateful you were for him.

“I love you too, baby.”

When you pulled away, you clutched his hand, standing up and looking towards his door, then back at him. He could face this, and he was looking forward to facing the rest of his birthdays with a smile on his face.

Steve reached for the silly party hats, placing his back on, and laughing when he put yours on.

“Let’s get this party started.”

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#munsonsreputation #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #taylor swift x stranger things #steve harrington x taylor swift #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine

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theresattrpgforthat · 2 years ago

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Any good games for a birthday party? ie. on the shorter side, ideally collaborative/GMless, low set up time, no prep, easy to teach. Very open on themes but urban fantasy would be a plus.

I get this is a tall order so I totally understand if there aren't many options.

Appreciate what you do!

THEME: Party Games

Hello friend, thank you very much! There’s quite a few GM-less games out there but I agree that’s important to be cognizant of the birthday party setting in order to make sure a game in which everyone understands what they’ve got going on. I hope you find these recommendations useful!

Please Report to Customer Service, by KitRole.

You are a Kid.

You have been separated from your Adult at the Store.

This is widely regarded as a Bad Thing. “Please Report to Customer Service…” is a rules-light, GM agnostic TTRPG, written over 12 hours for the Lost Caravan Game Jam 2023. It has not been tested, needs no prep, and requires at most 2d6 to play. Gather your friends to play as a gaggle of siblings, or play solo. Either way, the goal is the same:

Find your Grown Up, or cause chaos trying.

This is a cute, lighthearted game that has great potential for silliness. You can choose whether you run this game with or without a GM: a GM would be responsible for setting the scene and coming up with encounters, but players can also collaboratively create problems for each-other. There's no inherent fantasy rules but it's easy enough to create fantastical or magical traits for your kids. Perhaps you're three elf children and a faun, or perhaps you're all secretly cryptid kiddos! If you want something that allows you to play silly little folks with low stakes, this game might be worth checking out.

Hallow Unseen, by marymcharg

Spooky season has finally arrived, and your group of friends have all been invited to the biggest Halloween party in town. But while most invitees will be shopping for costumes, you won’t have to…

Tonight is the one night of the year where creatures of myth, beasts of legend, and monsters of nightmare can live among humans without fear- and what better way to spend it than getting drunk at a stranger’s house, making a fool of some arrogant humans, and maybe learning a bit about yourself too?

Hallow Unseenis a Halloween-themed coming-of-age TTRPG, filled to the brim with cryptids and teen drama. This is a diceless system- all you need to play is a deck of cards!

The game is short and the character sheets are simple, which makes this game easy to learn. It makes use of tried-and-true tropes, which means that the premise of the game should be pretty understandable for new folks. It does require a GM however, so it’s probably something that one person should agree to pick up ahead of time. Check it out if you want to let everyone embrace their inner teenager, and all the messiness that brings.

Fey Critter Tea Party, by anniedisaster.

Gather your friends (2 or more) and journey through the Magic Wilderness gathering ingredients for some wonderful baked goods just in time for tea! This game is GM-less and only requires a simple D4 to play!

It comes with 4 adventures, each with 4 sessions of play. Each session can take as little as a half hour-45 minutes to a few hours depending on how involved and how into the story building everyone is!

There is no set DM, instead, everyone takes their turn building up parts of the story and role-playing as an NPC or an enemy, etc. The setting and the adventure outlines are simple and easy for both kids and adults to play.

This game is cozy, cute, and with a theme of gathering ingredients for baked goods, I imagine it would pair well with some birthday cake to eat after you finish play! The game comes with 4 pre-written adventures, so to reduce prep you can simply pick one of those and follow along.

Unlikely Ambassadors, by Luciano Correa.

The rumors circulating in the main hall are confirmed by the desperate cry of a mansion servant. The ambassador of Vol Redinjia, the country on the brink of an unprecedented revolution, has disappeared from the face of the earth, upsetting the distinguished partygoers. Nothing foreshadowed that an event like this, which would bring together important figures from the four main nations of the oldest continent, each with more conflicts than the previous one, would end so disastrously. By chance, fortune, or disgrace, nobody in this party is more qualified than you to solve the case. It is your duty to investigate every corner of the Duke of Nekronia’s mansion.

Unlikely Investigators is a GM-less roleplaying game of mystery and intrigue. Collaborate with your fellow investigators to solve the mystery of the disappearance of the ambassador; search for clues around the mansion, talk to the peculiar and distinguished party guests, and come up with a theory that explains the weird happenings around the case. The game comes in a trifold pamphlet format, ready to print and play.

Murder mysteries are classic party-pleasers. This game combines the the feel of Clue with the mystery-solving mechanics of Brindlewood Bay, which means that all of the players will get to solve the mystery together. This pamphlet comes with eight characters for your investigators to interrogate, and inspiration tables for clues and complications. There’s no demand that fantasy be present in the game, but there’s room to make things magical, eerie, and/or horrific. I think this game is very smartly put together, and I recommend you check it out!

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #asks #dnd #birthday games #short games #GM-less #urban fantasy #game recommendations

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fountainpenguin · 14 days ago

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- Minor progress on "Kisses Full of Broken Glass"

- Spontaneous (and delightful) progress on the next Dog's Life buffer chapter ["Scatter By Sunset"], including changing a few plot points, so I'm intrigued by how it's going. Turns out when I was overwhelmed in October and needed that extra month for Chapter 42, that's because I actually needed 4-5 more chapters in between that and the plot point I was trying to hit :'D Dog's Life is not really what I expected when I started it, but it's my favorite and I like it.

- Sick all day (Visited relatives for two weeks, came home earlier today). Cold, tired, and hurting. Luckily I had nowhere to be except headed home (and when I got home, I was able to watch some YouTube videos and read a 'fic update I'd put off while at relatives'). I had a tasty grilled cheese.

-> I enjoyed Tango and Skizz joking about Skizz cheating on Tango (in his Hungry Hermit minigames team-ups) and in response to Tango getting in his face and yelling "Well, you cheated on me!" Skizz just casually replies things like "I know. It was so good" and Tango falls over laughing, choking out, "It wasn't even like 'No, no- Listen!' It was like, 'Oh baby, it was so worth it; I'd do it again'" and Skizz just falls to pieces, sldkfj... the juxtaposition. Silly. ["Back at Hungry Hermits with Skizz!"]

-> I hope TangoCam became dad to a new pet dog

-> He did not, but I see day-counter lamps

- Super rough outlines for some Neighborhood Watch AU 'fics I want to write (Yesterday, but still liking them today)

- Organized 44 downloaded 'fics today (All the ones from my FFN favorites). Making a collection of URLs next to download links because I prefer reading from webpages, but some of my favorite works have been deleted and I'm glad I can easily access their downloads from my same organizer sheet.

-> Not sure what it says about me that one of my most common filters is "Grief." Oh no.

-> Remembered how much I like some of these short story-driven favorites from my past (This is about SelenP's Fawful-centric pieces, like the one where Kamek and Fawful quest to revive Cackletta and shenanigans ensue, and multiple works of impeccable Kamek characterization... Kamek shouldering through the Koopalings' playroom door and yelling "Hey kids, I've got explosives!" lives rent-free in my head... I adore the Kamek-Kammy rivalry too.

-> Might make another sheet for my own 'fics (with download links) and post it for people to access in case FFN and AO3 go down unexpectedly someday, but not high priority right now (Thankfully)

- I'd like to do more self-indulgent one-shots this year, not binding myself so much to the 130 Prompts or my main AUs. I have a ton of things I didn't submit to Guess the Author that I'd like to finish, plus other one-offs. Mostly secret soulmates & Zombiewood, but. you know who I am.

- Listening to many songs for upcoming chapters, especially something that works for "Scatter By Sunset." Slow progress, nothing's hitting. Might be two too conflicting vibes for one song for this chapter, but at least it's low energy. I really do not want to split this chapter again.

- Mayhaps... song planned for something else could work better for "Scatter"?

-> It does not

- Funny to revisit some songs I'd used for Origin of the Pixies, considering them in a new light for Dog's Life. Don't think they work, but makes me go "Hm."

- So many animatics I itch to do, but it would be such a "small drop" of creation longevity (I presume) compared to what that time can give me for buffer-building chapters, and these 'fics are more important to me right now than drawing niche plot points. Might do some short clips for sillies (24-hour challenge or such)

-> There's a Total Drama scene I've wanted to animate Poof and Foop to for 8 YEARS, but I didn't have a good character to play the third part until Dev

-> "Other Side" is such a good song for the H.P. & Anti-Cosmo drama in Origin and Knots. I've have visions for ages...

-> Sorry for being who I am (Using break-up songs as inspo. for chapters about unrepentant kidnappers)

- Spent too long on this post and songs; tired. Feeling better than last night and hopefully better in the morning.

#ridwriting #99% true as far as we remember #Long post #(Somehow)#Dog's Life #mcyt #FAIRIES!

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pjsandapony · 4 months ago

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This is a true story, maybe it could help someone somewhere..

There are a few people involved in my story who are still on their own paths of healing, and we are all connected in different ways so parts of the story are intentionally vague. I don’t know how one goes about telling stories that involve others, but I’m going to do my best to be respectful.

My husband and I had three children very close together, each two years apart from 2012 to 2016. We were loving being parents and had experienced no major hiccups aside from some job changes during those four years. But the year of 2017 just after our third baby was born, just ended up being a full breakdown for us on so many levels, work betrayals and relational betrayals and pain upon pain. Almost month over month it felt like a crisis was happening. That spring, when our third baby was just a few months old, I started having hallucinations triggered by a couple different things. A combination of the MTHFR gene mutation and a UTI. I was exhausted and struggling to take care of myself as well as I needed to. After three babies back-to-back and nursing all of them, my body was really depleted nutritionally and I didn’t know the depth of it. It ended up that I became fully convinced I was dying and got to a point where I was terrified to go to sleep at night and so mostly stopped sleeping except for a few hours during the day when I could hear the reassuring sounds of people and movement. I had severe postpartum anxiety and didn’t know that either until later. I was completely manic and hearing and seeing things that weren’t there. It took a full year to eventually begin to trust my senses again, just out of fear, although the hallucinations stopped as soon as I got on the right supplement regimen.

Fast forward about 4 years, our third child was now 5 and life was beginning to feel smooth. We were renting a quiet house in the country, and enjoying all of the phases of a growing family.

In this house, we also had a precious relative living with us. There were some struggles that this person was having that my husband and I weren’t sure how to handle. One night, after one particularly challenging round of conversations, I got into bed and pulled the sheets up over my head. My husband was sitting in the corner working on his computer. Then I audibly heard a man’s voice ask “are you ok?” I pulled the sheets down and asked him if he had just asked me that. My husband said no, he hadn’t said anything at all. Internally I answered the voice back and said “yes I’m just tired” and then asked in my mind, “who spoke to me?”

Several nights later it was storming quite loudly outside and, as my oldest son was never fond of heavy storms, had come into our room to sleep. All of the sudden he popped his head up and said “did you say something?” I said “no I didn’t, what did you hear?” He said, “someone said, ‘the Son.’” He was so frightened and shaking and climbed into our bed for the rest of the night.

A week or two later I asked him some questions. I asked him if the voice sounded friendly or scary and he said friendly. And I asked him if it was a male or female voice. He said male. It became clear to me that the Father answered my question through our son, because He knew I would not trust my own experience, due to the health situation we went through years before. He knew I would question if I was hallucinating again.

In mercy, He confirmed the care of His Son through another person, my own son. I say all of this to encourage you, towards belief that God cares about your inner world and your responses to the events of your life.

#jesus #hope #faith #motherhood #kids & family #family pain #marriage #mental help #mental heath support #damaged emotions #emotional support #bible #true story #god #jesus heals #jesus christ #jesus loves you #faith in jesus

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calciseptinefic · 2 years ago

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a luxury few can afford

Marvel || Wade Wilson/Peter Parker || Part 3 notes: this fic is also available on ao3 warnings: peter's anxiety

Part 2

Peter wakes slowly for the first time in years. No blaring alarm, no jab of awareness, no anxiety-induced panic—just the sweet and syrupy transition between consciousness and wakefulness, the light in the room slowly brightening as the sun makes its way to its zenith. At first, he thinks about getting up and starting his day, thinks about tackling the constant laundry list of tasks that comes from being a college student and a vigilante, but then he thinks of Wade.

Wade, standing in his space.

Wade, telling him what to do.

Peter burrows deeper into his sheets, cocooned in warmth and cotton worn soft, and lingers. He doesn't know how long he stays there, in that pleasant half-awake state; he didn't look at his phone when he woke up and he doesn't look at it when he gets out of bed. It takes effort to leave it face-down on his nightstand, but he leaves it, because he knows that if he picks it up, he's going to want to text Wade more than he already does, and Wade told him not to.

Not until seven.

So Peter pretends that his phone isn't there and that there isn't an itch of impatience under his skin. He eats breakfast—plain toast with peanut butter and sliced banana on top—then studies, reviewing for computational biochemistry and working on homework for genomics. Afterwards, he cleans up a little. His apartment is small, but the mess never gets too bad; he doesn't have much in the way of material possessions and he lives alone. He simply has to make sure that his dirty clothes are in the hamper and there isn't toothpaste encrusted on the sink faucet.

It's just past four when Peter finally checks the time. Less than three hours until he can text Wade his address. Peter sets his phone back down. Goes to take a long shower, letting the scalding water run down his back until it turns cold.

4:37.

Peter boils two packs of ramen, throwing a handful of frozen veggies, an egg, and diced spam into the bowl. Eats it.

4:48.

Peter opens his laptop again and checks his e-mail, both personal and university. There's nothing but junk in the former; in the latter, he only needs to respond to a question from his PI, and the response requires less than two sentences.

5:13.

Peter opens his social media accounts. Scrolls. Sighs, then closes them. Repeats this process at least three times for all of them before getting bored.

5:46.

Peter gets off his couch—a surprisingly comfy two-seater he found on the curb several years ago—and goes to his closet. He's been walking around in nothing but a baggy t-shirt and his underwear all day. He pulls on a pair of straight leg, light-wash jeans, the ones MJ said made him look like a twink but in the best way, and a thin, mustard-yellow sweater. His socks have little Rutherford model atoms on them and no holes, which is more than can be said for some of the others.

5:51.

Peter cusses and pulls off all his clothes, sans briefs, and stands in the middle of his tiny bedroom, chewing on his bottom lip. Who the hell wears jeans at home? Wade will definitely know he dressed up. What if Wade thinks that's weird? What if Wade laughs at him?

5:52.

Wade wouldn't laugh at him. Wade would probably put his hands on Peter's hips, fingers creeping back towards his butt, and murmur, "Shit, baby boy, your ass looks just as good in them jeans as they do in spandex," before hooking his thumbs into the belt loops and dragging Peter against him, humming 'Low' by Flo Rida before leaning down and—

The jeans are back on.

5:53.

Wade is absolutely going to laugh at him. Wade has laughed at him. Just last week, for example, a man with the power to control pigeons had beset approximately all the pigeons in New York City on Peter; they didn't hurt Peter, necessarily, but their little talons pricked as they tried to use every available surface of his body as a perch. Wade had laughed himself sick at the sight. And the week before that, Peter's spidey-sense had gone off when a sewer rat decided to challenge him for his veggie-stuffed dosa. Peter had been so startled to be charged by a malicious rodent that he shrieked, then instinctively threw the dosa at the rat, who carried the food off with a happy little wag of its fat wormtail. Wade had laughed and laughed and laughed, only able to wheeze by the end, doubled over with his hands braced on his knees. The video of the entire debacle trended on social media as well, much to Peter's chagrin.

5:55.

The jeans are off.

5:56.

But Wade did buy him some falafel at another food truck, afterwards. He also offered to track down the civilian that posted Peter's #spidermanvsrat #epicfail #justnycthings video and 'make them regret it', which was heartfelt if not a little misguided. And really, Wade had been laughing at a circumstance in which Peter was the unfortunate victim, not Peter himself. Vigilantism often lent itself to crazy and unintentionally hilarious situations, and while Wade wasn't exactly helpful every single time, he was never purposefully malicious. Besides, Peter has definitely laughed at Wade when the roles were reversed, so...

5:56.

Jeans on.

5:57.

Peter refolds his sweater and contemplates other options. There are are a couple henleys and a blazer which—no, this isn't a job interview, no matter how much Peter wants to be in a certain position—and that one sky blue button down that Aunt May likes. She says it 'makes him look like a nice young man', but Peter isn't going to be selling Wade fucking popcorn like a Boy Scout, he's going to be choking on Wade's magnum dong and crying about how good it is.

Hopefully.

If Wade doesn't take one look at him, laugh, and leave.

6:04.

Peter has touched every single top he owns, tried on four of them, and immediately yanked them off. Briefly, he thinks about calling MJ and asking her exactly what the fuck he should wear, but then he'd have to tell her that Wade is coming over for... well, it's more than a pre-meditated booty call, but it's not exactly a date, either.

It's just a blowjob, Peter tries to tell himself. I'm just giving him a blowjob. And just because he's bringing dinner doesn't mean that it's more.

6:11.

Peter dresses in jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and a brown flannel. Casual. The kind of thing he would wear to class or to meet up with MJ or to see Aunt May. He picked it out easily, once his brain decided to hyper-fixate on another worry; now he's sitting on the edge of his bed, hunched over with his elbows on his knees, as he turns his phone over and over in his hands.

"Stop freaking out," Peter tells himself. He forces himself to take big, deep breaths and hold them. It tricks his parasympathetic nervous system enough for the ache in his chest to ease. Calmed down as much as he can be, Peter whispers, "Now break it down, Parker. Find out what's really bothering you."

Fact #1: Wade is coming over for a blowjob. A blowjob Peter himself brought up, in exchange for Wade's mercenary services. Wade hasn't once indicated that it was owed to him or that he deserved it. Actually, he gave Peter ample opportunity to back out, which Peter refused because Fact #2: Peter really, really, really wants to suck Wade's cock. He doesn't have much experience (read: two anonymous blowjobs in the bathroom of some frat house during his sophomore year of college) but he knows he likes it. Loves it even.

Which brings him to Fact #3:

Peter likes Wade.

A lot.

He hadn't been lying when he told Wade that he had thought about giving Wade a blowjob before. He had. Both times those frat boys shoved their dicks down Peter's throat and thrust sloppily in, finishing before he could even jerk himself off onto the vinyl flooring, it was the thought of Wade that brought him over. Neither of those instances were the first time Peter had thought about Wade like that, and neither of them were the last. Wade's thighs and shoulders and hands took a starring role in many of Peter's sexual fantasies from pretty much the moment Wade waltzed in on one of Peter's fights. Wade, who's explicit jokes and dirty mouth made Peter press his knees tightly together. Wade, who flirted with him, complimented him. Wade, who was big, and loud, and so damnably present that Peter could never stop thinking about him.

Peter doesn't know when he stopped thinking about Wade as an attractive nuisance slash inconvenient crush, and when he started to think about Wade as his somewhat obnoxious but ridiculously hot best friend. It's all too tangled. Five years of stake-outs and take-outs; easy nights and hard nights; the instant compatibility and the slow gain of trust. They're friends.

Fact #4: They're friends. Wade likes Peter too. They spend time together and have inside jokes. They can drive each other crazy, but ultimately, Peter knows Wade has his back. He hopes that Wade knows that there isn't much Peter wouldn't do for him, either. It's just that Fact #5: Peter wants to be more than friends and, Fact #6: Peter doesn't know if Wade wants that too.

Sure, Wade flirts with him and calls him 'baby boy', but Wade has always been super open about his sexuality. Peter knows he isn't seeing anyone right now and that the serious relationships he's had in the past haven't ended well. So, sure, Peter and Wade are friends, but what if that's it?

What if Wade just wants a blowjob?

What if he doesn't want more?

That weirdness Peter felt two nights ago returns. It coils up inside him, his unease beginning to creep back. Not enough to break Wade's dictates, text him, and call the whole thing off, but enough to make Peter pause for the first time. He had been so wrapped up by all that was happening—kissing Wade, getting the evidence against Kingpin's goon, and kissing Wade again, all while dealing with the constant mundanities of civilian life—that he never stopped to think.

Peter wants this. He does. He wants Wade to come over and see his face. He wants to eat Thai until he's bursting, then undress, get on his knees, and give Wade a blowjob. And he knows he'll get that. But after?

Will Wade stay?

If Peter asks, will he spend the night in Peter's bed?

Will he be there when Peter wakes up? Let Peter make him scrambled eggs and cheap coffee?

Peter is keenly aware that Wade hasn't said anything about more. It isn't out of character; for as much as Wade talks, he often plays his cards very close to his chest, either to spare his feelings or spare the feelings of others. Like Peter, Wade might want more. Unlike Peter, he might not. The real question is this: If all Wade wants is a blowjob in exchange for services rendered, can Peter live with that? Can he put the memory of it in a box, to only occasionally be pulled out with equal amounts of fondness and hurt, and not let it destroy what they already have?

Peter turns over his phone.

Taps the darkened screen.

6:57.

He takes a breath—

6:58.

Opens his chat with Wade—

6:59.

Types out a message—

7:00.

And hits send.

Part 4

#spideypool #spiderman #deadpool #peter parker #wade wilson #rating: e #pairing: wade wilson/peter parker

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