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shdysders · 10 months ago

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the bet

pairing: vada cavell x female reader

summary: in which vada makes a bet, and unfortunately you're the victim to it.

word count: 4.8k

warnings: cursing, hints of alcoholism.

author’s note: hope you like! also if y’all feel like following an editing account on tiktok, mine is sdesnk!

Making bets are something everyone did as kids, whether it was about money, candy or chores. Everyone did it.

Vada grew up constantly making bets with her younger sister, which were pretty easy to win since Amelia would accept pretty bad ones without properly thinking them through.

Vada actually thought she was one of the best gamblers amongst everybody she knew. Until she met Nick. In her eyes he was a literal goddess at making bets, but also at winning them. He always came up with the craziest ones, things that Vada couldn't think of even if she tried.

Their friendship was filled with bets, they pushed each other to the limits, coming up with even more daring challenges and scenarios, putting their skills to the test.

Their parents hoped and prayed that they would grow out of it, thinking that all kids did eventually. But unfortunately, that wasn't the case for Vada and Nick, they kept going even though they had passed the inappropriate age for it.

Not even starting high school stopped them. It was their 'friendship language' as they called it.

"I bet you twenty dollars you won't tell the lunch lady this tastes like fucking shit." Nick spoke, playing around the food with a fork, a grossed out expression on his face.

Vada immediately shook her head, laughing. "Absolutely not!" She could never agree to bets where it involved being rude to someones face, let alone rude to someone in general, she had a filter, unlike Nick; who didn't care if he was hurting someone or not.

Nick smirked, now curiously looking around the cafeteria. A look on his face that only Vada could understand, he was looking for something to make a bet on.

"Okay fine, I bet you fifty dollars.." He started, the big amount of money immediately capturing Vadas attention. "That you won't ask out little Y/n right there."

Nick pointed behind Vada with his fork, an evil smirk placed on his face. She slowly turned to see where his plastic cutlery was pointing. And there you were, sitting all alone at the table a few feet away from them, headphones placed on your head. She could feel her eyes softened as she watched you. Your curious eyes scanning through the pages of the book you were reading.

There was nothing wrong with what you were doing, but in high school, people that sit alone are weird. Vada knew that's why Nick chose you out of all people he could've picked.

People around school used to talk about you, how you were too quiet for your own good, how nobody had heard you speak ever since you were asked to introduce yourself the first day of school, or how some people had forgot you were in their class.

Vada didn't understand quiet people. Growing up, loud was the first word people used to describe her. Her mouth always seemed to be this ocean of words that never seemed to run out. She had never experienced being anything else than talkative, so she would never be able to understand how people didn't like to talk.

She bit her lip as she watched you, actually considering taking the bet. Nick saw her hesitating, "You don't have to stay with her forever, just for like a week or two."

Vada thought hard. She did have to step up her game, Nick had done everything. Every single bet she gave him, and she was starting to grow poor because of it. He had done everything from telling Amelia her outfit looked horrendous, to telling Mrs Cavell that the dinner tasted like vomit.

It was only a week right? Couldn't hurt.

Vada turned back to Nick with a smirk on her face, taking out her hand for him to shake.

"Bet."

***

Vadas stomach was filled with nerves the next day, but she couldn't figure out why; it was just a bet, nothing of it was real feelings, and she had to do it, she couldn't risk loosing fifty bucks.

Nick had been teasing her since first period, telling her what a cute couple you guys would be. Which was making Vada feel uncertain, if she should do it or not.

When the time arrived at lunch Nick had already ran off to his 'second option friends' as he called them, leaving Vada all alone to approach you. You sat alone again; to no surprise, Nick had told her that you always did.

With no hesitation in her bones, she walked up to your table, standing in front of you; waiting for you to look up. And eventually you did, your eyes filled with curiosity scanned her figure, making Vada shift her weight from one leg to another, almost feeling judged.

"Do you want me to move? I can go to another table." You spoke rapidly, making Vadas gaze soften, did people really only walk up to you to say that they wanted your table?

Vada shook her head, hesitating before sitting down in front of you. "I'm here to talk to you."

You watched her carefully, as if what she was about so say would be something rude or humiliating.

You had history class with Vada, so you knew she was a very talkative individual, that's why you were so surprised when it looked like she didn't know what to say.

"I just..I–.. I've liked you for quite some time now, and I wanted to...ask you out." She spoke, stuttering and pausing way too much. "On a date." Vada ended, looking up at your shocked face.

Your mouth almost hung open, there was no way this was true. Vada Cavell asking you out on a date?

You couldn't believe it. A part of you was telling yourself that it was probably just a joke, that she was doing this for a laugh with her friends. But the other part of you couldn't help but let a smile creep up on your face.

You had always fancied the girl, but you didn't go anywhere with it since you were known for being too awkward around people, let alone somebody you liked. This could end in many ways, you knew that. Yet there was no hesitation in you when you answered the girl who was sitting in front of you.

"Yeah..Yeah sure." You nodded, "What are you thinking?"

Now that you asked that question, Vada didn't know what to answer. She hadn't thought this through at all. She had approached you without even giving a second thought to what she was about to do.

Vada had half a mind to just walk away and give Nick the fifty bucks. But looking into your eyes; that was filled with expectations and surprise, she decided to give in.

***

"How did it go?" Nick eagerly asked as the pair walked into the school building.

Vada rolled her eyes almost immediately as the question left the boy's mouth. "Fine." She answered simply while trying to flicker the lock to the right code for her locker.

Nick sighed, muttering something Vada couldn't make out. "I need to know details! Don't give me the cold shoulder, it's not my fault you accepted the bet." He ranted, faint frustration lacing his voice.

A sigh escaped from Vada's lips. "It went fine. She's actually really nice."

That was true. You were in fact really nice. You weren't much of a talker, that's why Vada held most of the conversations, which wasn't hard. You were a great listener, Vada went on and on about stuff you probably didn't care about for one bit, but Vada still felt like she was being heard.

Nick let out a snort at that, making Vada shoot him a glare. "Yeah? Because she was quiet the whole time?"

When Vada didn't answer, instead beginning to pick out books from her locker, Nick quietly apologized, realized he might've overstepped. But when she closed it and began walking to class, he caught up and continued.

"Soo.. did you kiss her yet?"

That made Vada spurt to a halt, her shoes making a squeak sound on the tile floor.

"What?" She looked up at him, confusion painted all over her face. "That was not a part of the bet."

Nick just smiled dumbfounded at her. "I know." He started walking again, happy to have brought at least some form of reaction out of the girl. "But I might add another fifty bucks if you do."

Vada walked rapidly to try and keep up with him. Kiss you? Why would she ever do that. Besides, he couldn't just change up the bet after it had already been made. That made no sense.

Although Vada knew that just a few hours back you and her were seconds away from locking lips, the interruption being Mrs Cavell bursting through the door unexpectedly. Which of course made you and Vada jump away from each other.

She didn't know why she thought it would be a good idea to kiss you. It was just in the moment. She didn't like you like that, she just thought there was a bigger chance for you to believe the whole 'feelings' thing if she did.

The date had begun with a dinner at some cheap, yet pretty decent restaurant, later on Vada took you back to her house thinking nobody else would be home; unfortunately she was wrong, but you didn't care. You had given Vada a bunch of compliments about how heartwarming and kind her family seemed, but Vada had just brushed it off.

"Yeah? And how would you know if I kissed her or not?" Vada questioned, her attention shifted towards the present moment.

Nick shrugged, "I don't know, set up a camera or something."

The statement made Vada grimace, but she didn't get enough time to answer him since he had already disappeared into his classroom, leaving Vada alone in the hall. Along with all the other students rushing around, trying to make it to their classes.

Lots of voices could be heard, every single one of them blending into each other so the words were all inaudible. Vada didn't give it any thoughts until she heard her voice being called.

She couldn't hear who it was over all the other voices, but when she turned around and saw that the person calling for her was you, she felt a small smile arriving at her lips.

"Y/n! Hi." Vada smiled at you, eyes flickering to your hands, who seemed to be fiddling with each other.

"So I was wondering.." Your soft voice spoke, "I really enjoyed our date last night, and I was wondering if you'd like to do it again?" You struggled to hold eye contact with her, eyes darting between the floor and Vada's eyes.

Vada bit her lip, thinking hardly. She was starting to feel bad. Did you actually think that the date was a serious thing? Did you actually think that she liked you?

She noticed that the small smile on your face was wiped off quickly, precisely because Vada didn't answer straight away, like you thought she would.

Vada opened her mouth to say that she was busy, but nothing came out. She felt bad. Your big doe eyes that were now filled of insecurity was staring into hers. She couldn't say no, not when you looked crushed at the fact that she hesitated at first.

You let out a sigh of relief when you received a nod from her. "Yeah, yeah absolutely." Vada tried to act as if she wasn't hesitating just seconds before.

"But we're going to your house this time right?" She asked before you had the opportunity to leave.

Now it was your turn to hesitate, but before you knew it your mouth had moved by itself, saying the exact opposite of what you were planning on. "Of course." You nodded.

"Tomorrow? We can walk there after school?" Vada questioned.

You tried to keep the confident look on your face, but it was hard. "Yeah.. Sure." You answered hesitantly.

Vada gave you a small nod and an awkward smile before turning on her heel, walking to class.

You silently cursed to yourself when she was out of your sight. Why didn't you just say no? There were thousands of other places you could've suggested.

You knew something like this would happen. You would either overshare something or say yes to something without thinking first.

You didn't have any friends, hadn't had for a long time either. So your social life wasn't very active, considering you barely talked to your parents at home.

When people don't have much social interaction, they might tend to overshare or be more talkative when meeting someone new, you were a great example of that. And you had learned that the hard way.

People left you all the time, hence to why you stopped making any kind of effort to engage with other people. Known as the reason for why people called you weird. But that's what high schoolers did, picked out people that weren't extroverted or social butterflies and recalled them as weird, starting all kinds of rumors in between.

You couldn't take her to your home. She would leave if she saw it.

***

'Tomorrow' felt sooner than expected.

By the time you walked out of your sixth and final period, when you saw Vada standing next to your locker; waiting for your classes to finish, you had already forgot the date you guys had planned. Being too busy the night before to clean up the mess your step father had made.

Vada looked as if she was debating something in her mind when you approached her, you obviously didn’t ask why, mainly because her expression quickly changed to a small smile when she saw you arriving.

You smiled back, feeling like this was your chance to change your destination to somewhere else. "Hey uhm, don't you think we should go somewhere else instead?" You started, watching as Vada furrowed her eyebrows.

"I just felt like my house won't be super 'romantic' or like..suitable for a date or whatever you want to call it." You rambled, feeling judged under Vada's expression.

Vada just chuckled when you finished talking. "I don't care if it's romantic at all." Because I don't like you the way you’re thinking, she wanted to continue. But of course she couldn't do that.

"We'll just a watch a movie on your laptop or something. You do have a computer right?" She checked.

You nodded unsurely. You weren't good at debating or arguing with people, so unfortunately you just gave in. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad? Maybe Vada would be different than all the other people.

The walk to your house went rather smoothly, Vada did the talking - as usual. This time you didn't ask any questions about what she was talking about, mainly because the nerves were getting to you, but also because you didn't listen to all of it; trying to figure out different scenarios on how it all might go down.

"Well. This is me." You spoke almost shakily, voice cracking with nerves. Vada didn't seem to notice, just inspecting the house from the outside.

Vada looked around for a moment, inspecting the other houses in the neighborhood. The house you were standing in front of looked rather neglected compared to the other ones. While every garden looked like it was taken care of neatly, yours looked like the grass hadn't been mowed for months.

The house was painted white on the brick walls, but tons of it had been peeled or flaked off; revealing the actual color of the stones.

Your gaze was set down to your shoes, not wanting to see Vada judging the shabby house.

"Are you sure you don't want to go somewhere else?" You bit your lip, asking the question while staring down at your feet on the asphalt. You could see Vada's head turn to you in the corner of your eyes, a small smile placed on her face.

Vada could see that you were ashamed, ashamed over the fact that your house probably looked like a junkyard compared to what she had expected.

A part of her wanted to agree with you and go somewhere else, but she also didn't want you to be ashamed. Hence to why she shook her head.

"I'm sure." She replied softly, mentally slapping herself before she took your hand in hers, clasping your fingers. She had to make everything believable.

An electric surge ran through your veins as your skin touched. A form of bravery entering your body, making you take a deep breath before pulling you behind her up the faint path towards the stairs.

When the door opened, a cloud of cigarette smoke exploded in your face, nothing you weren't used to, but Vada on the other hand tried to contain her coughs by swallowing thickly.

Loud shattering from the TV was echoing in the house, which made Vada immediately turn her head towards where the couch was placed.

She could only make out the 'big' man on the couch, dressed in a man beater shirt, beer bottles covering the whole coffee table in front of the piece of furniture.

You tried to walk carefully, hoping he wouldn't hear you over the loud volume on the television. But the creaking of the floor failed you as it made the man on the couch turn his head faintly, not entirely, so he couldn't see Vada; who had now carefully walked further away, basically hiding behind you.

"Is that you Y/n?" His dark and raspy voice almost yelled, making you flinch. His voice sounded as if he hadn't spoken to anyone for a week, having to clear his throat while speaking.

You nodded, but realizing he couldn't see you made you speak up. "Yes.. It's me and a friend." Your voice sounded confident, which surprised Vada, because you surely didn't look so confident.

The word 'friend' made the man turn around fully. His angry gaze scanning Vada's body, making her feel judged in less than a second, feeling herself shrink.

"Sluts like you has friends?" He asked, almost laughing while speaking.

Your expression didn't change much. Although Vada could see the sadness and fear that appeared in your eyes.

You just nodded as a response, not wanting to talk any further; afraid that your voice would fail you.

Vada didn't say anything, she figured that the man didn't want her to introduce herself at all, so she didn't.

When the man kept on chuckling to himself and had returned his attention to the TV, you took the chance to pull Vada in the direction to your room.

"Was that your dad?" Vada asked as you closed the door to your room, carefully looking around.

It looked just like she thought it would, if she had to guess based on your looks and personality.

You had a bookshelf that was filled with books of all kinds, novels, thrillers, romance, you name it, everything was there. Your walls were covered with photographs that looked like they were self taken. You had a few plants placed on different surfaces, even a guitar leaning against a corner of the rooms.

"Step dad." You corrected, putting your hands in the back pockets of your pants. Carefully watching her face expressions as she inspected your room.

"He's a drunk with a short temper.. So.. I'm sorry if he scared you." You carefully spoke, not wanting for Vada to feel scared.

Vada quickly shook her head, her eyes catching your laptop on your bedside table. "Now.." she grabbed the computer with one hand, looking up at you with a smile, trying her hardest to lighten the mood.

"Are we doing this or what?"

***

Vada had done it. She had kissed you. On the lips.

It wouldn't have been a problem when she knew it was just a bet. It would have been fine if she didn't feel butterflies in her stomach when your lips touched hers. Everything would've been fine if she didn’t develop feelings for you.

She didn't know how she was supposed to tell Nick. Obviously she didn't have to, but her ocean of words would eventually expose her when she least expected it.

She had been trying to give Nick hints about it for the whole day, but he just laughed it off; assuming it was jokes about how she felt. Which made Vada feel irritated, it’s not like it’s impossible to catch feelings.

Vada had never excepted to grow fond of a quiet person like you. But you just made it impossible.

You were the greatest listener Vada ever came across. Most of the times when she talked or rambles to Nick, her family or basically anyone, she felt ignored half of the time, like they never payed attention to what she was saying.

But you did. You listened all the time. She didn't have to repeat the things she said or ask if you were listening. You were always nodding when she spoke, always smiling at her, nodding when she needed confirmation.

You didn't have much space to talk, but when you did, Vada felt like she could listen to it for hours.

You were pretty. Every single one of your features was something that Vada admired. She couldn't help it.

She hadn't realized the feelings she had for you until she had kissed you. Which almost made her regret doing it in the first place.

Two days had passed after the kiss, and another date had been planned to happen. Vada laid on her bed, hair sprawling everywhere, phone in her hand directed to her face with Nick on the other line.

"You went to her house?" Nick spoke, sounding satisfied and confused at the same time. A huge grin was placed on his face, making Vada realize he was going to tease her about this too.

Vada just nodded, scrunching her nose in false disgust; trying to play along with the whole 'you're super weird' thing.

"What was it like? Was her parents all quiet as well?" He kept going, almost making Vada annoyed. Before, his snarky comments about the different kinds of preconceptions he had about people didn't seem to annoy Vada at all, in fact she used to add things to them.

But the prejudices he had about you and your family made her frustrated. It made her think of the sadness and fear in your eyes the whole time you were in your own house, the way your hands almost shook when you had walked her to the door.

"It was fine." She answered simply, not wanting to hear him bash you or your family any further.

Nick seemed to notice that since he didn't ask more about it. But he still had questions, like he always did. About everything.

"When are you going to tell her it's just a bet?" He smiled, clearly enjoying the 'torment' he thought he was putting his friend through.

Vada shifted in her laying position, sitting up. A frown on her face as she spoke. "I don't know yet."

And that was true. Vada had no idea when she was going to tell you. The feelings she realized existed didn't help either. How was she supposed to tell you that the dates were fake? That she didn't actually like you.

"There's only a few days left of the week." The boy continued, putting even more pressure on her. Vada didn't feel the need to answer. She knew well enough that the week was coming to an end.

"She's supposed to come over in a few minutes so I got to go." She said, hinting to the guy on the phone that she didn't want engage in a further conversation with him about the subject.

Nick just laughed; something he seemed to do every moment Vada said something about you.

"Alright bye love bird. Make sure to kiss her today then." Nick waved at the screen, a proud smile painting his face. "I mean, if you want those hundred bucks."

Vada almost blushed at the words. The thoughts of the night not too long ago when your lips met filling her mind.

She hung up before Nick got the chance to see the tint of red that was starting to appear on her face; knowing how much he'd tease her about it if he had seen it.

When Nick's voice could no longer be heard in the room, she dragged both her hands down her face, sighing deeply out of relief. But it was quickly filled with tension again as she turned to check the watch on her bedside table.

You should've been here already.

Her eyes widened as she thought of the worst thing possible.

What if her mom had opened the door and let you in? That would be the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to her. It was embarrassing enough that she had greeted you at the worst time possible the first time you came over; the first time you guys almost kissed.

Vada wasn't embarrassed of her mom, the opposite actually. But the problem was that Mrs Cavell always seemed to find the absolute worst moments to appear in. Always.

"Mom!" Vada shouted out, rapidly climbing out of her bed, almost stumbling on her own feet while landing.

"Mom, If someone knocks on the door it's for-" Vada began to yell again, opening the door to her room; that she had shut with force when Nick had called.

But she harshly interrupted herself when she saw who was standing in front of her.

You stood there. With a bouquet of roses in your left hand, your knuckles white from holding them for too long.

Your expression was unreadable, but Vada could see sadness in your eyes. And she couldn't figure out why. Then it hit her.

"H-how long have you been standing here?" She questioned, praying to all gods above that what she thought had happened, wasn't true.

"It was a bet?" Your voice sounded hollow, trails of shaking could also be heard. Your bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

Vada began to panic. You had heard her. She didn't have a single clue on what she was going to answer. It was a bet before. But Vada was feeling like it wasn't now. That's why she had no idea what was about to come out of her mouth.

"No! I-I mean yes.. but no! It was but I'm starting to really feel like-" Vada rambled, her hands being all over the place as she spoke, trying to speak with her hands, but it didn't help since you interrupted her before she got the chance to finish.

"It's fine..Vada." You said softly. No anger in your voice at all. You shifted your weight from one leg to another before hesitantly moving the bouquet of roses towards the petite brunette, almost shoving it into her chest by the time it reached her figure, which resulted in her slowly taking them into her hands. She looked at the roses with a sad gaze, before she shifted her eyes up to you.

"I'm gonna go." You stated simply. Turning your body half way before making eye contact with Vada again. "I really liked you, Vada." You said, then you rapidly walked away down the hall.

"Y/n. I-" Vada tried, she wanted to chase after you, tell you about the whole situation. Even though the story she would tell you wouldn't be great either, she still wanted you to know how she felt; what she was about to say before you interrupted her with your soft voice that Vada adored. But nothing more came out. Her feet were glued to the floor, making her unable to move.

The last thing she heard was the door shutting. Making Vada grown loudly, cursing to herself at the fact that she allowed this to happen to begin with. She was the one that took this bet. It was all her fault. Maybe a little bit Nicks for making it, but still.

***

You didn't come to school the next day. As expected.

Nick had been asking Vada about the 'date' all throughout first and second period, not knowing that the date didn't happen, it didn't even get a chance to start before it was utterly and completely ruined.

She left the questions unanswered, not feeling the need to share the situation with him.

Vada also didn't feel like telling Nick she had kissed you. She didn't care if that meant she didn't get the added fifty bucks, she had gotten your trust instead of that. And then she ruined it.

She did get fifty bucks from Nick for 'completing the task' as he said it.

But she caused shattered a heart for it.

#vada cavell x reader #vada cavell x y/n #vada cavell x you #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #tara carpenter #jenna ortega #wednesday addams x reader

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lordprettyflackotara · 6 months ago

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till dawn || eyeless jack || bonus part

SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+. tw: this is unfortunately very fluffy as well as smutty. if you came here for raw intense fucking wait until i release my new one shot with ej called huntin’ wabbitz. this is for the till dawn girlies ONLY. enjoy <3

“Why are we doing this again?”

Jeff’s voice was harsh, raising the question Ben had as well. The blonde stood in front of Jack, attempting to gracefully finish tying the demons bow tie. “Well Jeff in human culture weddings are a symbolic ceremony of love and unconditional commitment,” Ben explained, not glancing up at the pale killer. Somehow your request of a wedding had managed to get every creep dressed up, including Jacks friends.

Jeff went to run his fingers through his ash black hair, frowning once he realized it was in a man bun. “Yeah no I obviously have that part down pat. But I meant why are we doing this? We aren’t exactly humans anymore you know,” Jeff pointed out. Ben smiled as he finished adjusting Jacks bow tie. The sapphire blue suited him the best, according to Clockwork anyways.

“You are aware she’s a human right?” Ben asked. Jeff sighed, refraining himself from face palming. “As everyone has been talking about for the past twenty four hours, yes I am aware she’s a human,” Jeff answered. Ben went to defend you further, Jacks voice interrupting the blonde.

“We’re doing this because it’s what she wants.”

Believe it or not, Jack was apprehensive about the whole thing. It wasn’t the ceremony he feared or the social pressure to lift his mask to kiss your sweet lips. It was having you around so many creeps at once. The residents at Slender’s mansion had grown accustomed to your presence. You became just another resident, killer or not. Even the proxies had grown fond of you, initially pushing back on your stay due to your mortality. It may not have been a life they would’ve chosen for themselves, but you had proved time and time again your love for Jack prevailed all doubts.

It was also highly convenient to have someone able to grocery shop without a swat team being called.

You hadn’t outright come out and said you wanted marriage to Jack, but he was no fool. The magazines left out with pages of rings and dresses. Weddings were apart of your kinds culture and more importantly, they meant something to you. It wasn’t long after that Jack bribed Hoodie into helping him rob a jewelry store to get as many rings as they could carry. What else was he supposed to do? He didn’t know your ring size and he couldn’t possibly acquire the knowledge and be inconspicuous at the same time.

Word of your engagement spread like wildfire, the concept alone unheard of. Creeps from all over, including the Trenderman mansion, had been invited per your request. You had never met Laughing Jack, Jason the toy maker, Candypop, etc. Yet, you wanted all of them there for your special day. Jack thought it was touching once he put aside all of his fears about having that many immortal psychopaths around you. The main reason every creep turned up to your wedding was simple: you were human.

Outside of proxies, the supernatural haze that imbedded itself into creeps. It slowed down their aging, kept their bloodlust prevalent. Many of them didn’t even recall their human life. If they even had one to begin with. The idea alone that someone like you, could love someone endlessly like them was incomprehensible. This resulted in every creep on the planet to attend, that fact alone making Jack more nervous.

Slenderman had high expectations of his residents, ensuring that although unhinged they would maintain a stable and respectable behavior. Many of the creeps attending, including X-Virus and Nina the killer, were highly unpredictable. In the back of his mind he doubted that he would be able to protect you from all of them.

“Dude you should sit down, you don’t look so good,” Ben said, guiding him to sit down on the end of the bed. It was rare Jack had his mask off and it was most certainly non negotiable during the ceremony. But here in his bedroom with his (whether he’d admit it or not) best friends, he felt comfortable enough to take it off. Just for a moment. “You look kinda pale,” Jeff said, helping Ben guide Jack to sit down. The demon stifled a laugh. “Yeah you’re one to talk casper,” He chuckled.

Jeff rolled his eyes, a knock on the door interrupting a comeback that threatened to roll off of his tongue. The pale killer answered the door, revealing you. You were mesmerizing, the white dress Jane and Clockwork helped you acquire fitting you perfect. “I’d like a moment alone with Jack, if y’all don’t mind,” You say. Ben and Jeff exchanged glances. “Isn’t there some tradition about not seeing the bride until-” Jeff began, Ben’s hand planting a sharp slap on his shoulder.

“Hey dude what the fuck-”

Ben grabbed Jeff’s suit sleeve, dragging him towards the door. “Message received, see you guys at the ceremony,” He chimed cheerfully, a confused and mumbling Jeff trailing behind him. You could hear grumbling about Ben tearing the suit, the complaining making you giggle. You stepped inside, shutting the door behind you. Jack was eager to be beside you, approaching you quickly.

“Hi there,” You greeted, giving him a genuine smile. Upon seeing your face he began to relax, the dark gray color returning to his face. “You look absolutely stunning my mate,” Jack purred, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The sound of chatter from the hallway made Jack jump, pulling you behind him. He recognized the voices to belong to Laughing Jill and Kate the chaser, two creeps he did not trust. His gaze was centered on the door, your soft hand grabbing his arm.

“Jack, I need you to relax,” You say softly. Your voice was like warm honey, temptation threatening him to look away from the door. How could he protect you if he wasn’t ready? You walked around him, looking up at him as he towered over you. “EJ seriously, it’s okay. I’m okay,” You told him. Jacks gaze finally broke from the door, the sound of the girls straying off in the distance. “It’s hard to focus when there’s so many of my kind around. You’re not a proxy you know, you don’t have Slender’s unlimited protection,” Jack explained. His eyebrows furrowed as you admired his suit, rubbing his fingers over the suit jackets fabric.

“Maybe not. But I have yours, Jeffs, Ben’s, the proxies, Jane’s grown to like me I think, oh and Smiley,” You replied, giving him a small smile. Jacks eyebrows furrowed, tilting his head to the side. “You really think we could take on all of them and win?” He questioned. You giggled. You took his large hand, guiding him over to the window. You gestured for him to look outside, the creeps all taking their seats and talking. “This isn’t a war EJ. They’re not here to kill me. They’re here to celebrate,” You say. Jack watched as Smiley chased Sally around the yard, Slender and Trender caught up in a telepathic conversation at the podium.

Where the fuck did they get a podium?

“I guess what i’m trying to say is that you worry too much. Your friends like me right? So will they,” You told him, tucking your hair behind your ears. Jack contemplated your reasoning, glancing down and spotting the bloody painter. “You invited the bloody painter?” Jack questioned. You followed his gaze, spotting him talking to X-Virus. “I guess? Does it matter?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. Jack inhaled sharply. The last time he saw the Bloody Painter it ended in a bloody brawl. No pun intended.

“He’s just uh, not my favorite person on the planet,” Jack answered dryly. His gaze was locked onto him, refusing to shift away. You grabbed Jacks chin, guiding him to look at you. “I don’t like the idea of him seeing you. Being near you,” Jack admitted. It was something primal, something he couldn’t shake off. You were his mate and an enemy was prancing around his territory. “Guess you should show him who I belong to then,” You suggested, biting your bottom lip.

Jack could hear your heart skip a beat, a smile creeping across his face. “Oh you naughty little thing,” He whispered, bringing his lips to yours. Jack was never soft or gentle, but he tried his hardest to be so he didn’t ruin the dress. His kisses were hungry and desperate, his primal instincts ensuing. “How long do we have until the ceremony starts?” Jack asked, his lips refusing to stray from yours. You giggled, lying down on his bed. “Oh I don’t know, maybe till dawn?” You teased. Jack pounced on top of you, giving you a small smile.

“Need to know how much time I have with you love,” He purred, his breath hot against your ear. The sensation made you shudder in pleasure, your body igniting itself on fire. “Maybe twenty minutes?” You guessed. Jacks hands slowly pulled up your tight dress before cupping your drenched heat. “Okay maybe thirty,” You groaned. He could feel your dampness through your lacey white panties, the feeling alone euphoric. “Tsk tsk. Dressed so pure when you know I stole that purity long ago,” Jack hummed, teasingly dragging two fingers up and down your slit.

You whined, your hips bucking upwards. “Jack we don’t have time for teasing,” You say, eager to feel him. The demon above you quietly snickered, pushing your panties to the side. “It’s our wedding, they can wait,” He said, dropping to his knees. He dragged you by your thighs to the end of the bed, playfully licking up your thigh. “Jack please,” You whined, running your fingers through his hair. You tugged harshly at the roots, trying to drag him to your cunt. “So desperate,” Jack murmured before diving into your folds.

You could never explain or process the euphoria his three tongues provided. Two would shove themselves inside of you, scissoring your walls to stretch you out as much as they could. The third would attach itself to your clit, stimulating the bud as much as possible. It was an indescribable feeling, one that always made you moan and pant like a wild animal. Jack had purposefully gave you head everyday for a month, just to train the muscles in his tongues to be able to fuck you better.

As much as you were hesitant, it paid off.

“Fucking shit, Jack!” You moaned, throwing your head back as his large hands pried your thighs open. A primal growl rumbled in the bottom of his throat, his gaze centered on watching you fall apart. His tongues curled to begin abusing your g spot, your back arching off of the bed. You yanked at his locs, trying to pry him away from your aching cunt. You bit your bottom lip. “Jack if you keep that up you’re going to get very wet,” You threatened, your face turning red. You always got embarrassed of your bodies natural functions, Jack noticed. He didn’t see the point. He had seen every part of you and adored every nanometer.

You also had squirted on his fingers, tongues, and cock more times than he could count. How you orgasmed didn’t matter to him. He smirked as he continued his motions, your thighs trembling in his grasp. You whimpered as you came, your juices squirting across his face. You could feel your face growing hot, some of Jacks suit jacket soaked. He leaned back, your juices coating some of his clothing. He could hear your heart practically pounding against your rib cage.

“Goddammit-” Inhale. “Jack-” Exhale. “Your suits now all wet,” You sighed, trying to swallow as much air as possible Jack on the other hand was gleaming with pride, helping you rise to your feet. “It’ll dry. Besides, I think it’s pretty fucking hot,” He purred. He brought you over in front of his full length mirror, bringing your hands to either side of it to hold yourself up for support. “You look so beautiful, just watch yourself crumble for me,” Jack ordered. You could hear the clinking of his belt, the demon then wrapping his arms around your waist.

The height difference was one that couldn’t be ignored. Originally you didn’t think it would be possible for Jack to fuck you standing. That was of course until one eventful morning in the shower made it possible. All he had to do was pick you up and guide you down onto his cock. He did just that, watching you awkwardly balance on your tip toes to stay standing. As many times as you took him it always felt the same, your walls spasming around him as you struggled to take his girth.

“You’re doing so well for me beautiful, now open your eyes and watch,” Jack purred, placing a kiss on the side of your head. You felt him bottom out inside of you, the bulge of his cock visible through your dress. You whimpered as he let you adjust to him, his ears twitching at the sound of your heart beat. It always sped up when he first entered you, creating an addicting sympathy he wanted to hear forever. He swallowed as his gaze fell down to your neck, the urge to cover you in marks ensuing.

Jacks large hands grabbed your hips, slowly guiding you up and down his cock. “Fucking- fuck,” You moaned, struggling to keep your eyes open. Jack couldn’t control himself as he thrusted into you, his mind emptying entirely. “Such a good mate for me, taking me like this,” He panted. He licked the tender side of your neck, a chill running down your spine as he continued to fuck you. “You like this huh? Being used like my own personal fleshlight?” Jack chuckled darkly. Your head fell forward, your eyes screwing shut.

“Oh don’t get all shy on me now. Look at yourself,” Jack ordered. He slithered one hand up to your face, forcing you to look up. “Watch as I breed you mate. Fucking watch,” Jack rambled, grinning as your lips puckered out like a fish. Your noises were sinful, Jack couldn’t help but have an egotistical sense of pride. You could feel your second orgasm coming, your hands grabbing onto Jacks arm.

“J-Jack i’m gonna cum,” You panted. Jack’s hand slithered to your throat, squeezing the airway. “Not yet mate, wait for me,” He ordered. He continued to snap his hips into yours, your body beginning to shake as you tried to listen. “F-f-fuck I can’t-” You rambled. You moaned as you felt him choke you harder. “Awe you wanna cum so badly? Go on, cum. Cum on my fucking cock,” Jack huffed. The cord inside of you snapped, your body trembling as Jack came undone inside of you. Cumming anywhere besides deep in your cunt was out of the question, your pussy often dripping with his seed.

For a brief moment Jack held you in place, enjoying the feeling of your abused walls settling down around his shaft. “EJ?” You panted, still dazed. Your fingertips traced over the bulge that showed through your stomach. “Yeah?” Jack hummed. He wiped your smudged eye makeup, trying to clean you up without taking you off of his cock. “We’re still supposed to be getting married you know,” You chuckled. Jack playfully sighed, rolling his non existent eyes. He lifted you off of him, your bare feet hitting the wooden floor.

You turned around, pressing your lips to his. You smiled into the kiss, Jacks hands going to help you fix your dress. “How kind of you good sir,” You say teasingly, both of you letting out a genuine chuckle. A loud knock made both of you jump, Jacks eyebrows furrowing.

“Guys i’m not going to come in I know what you guys are up to but everyone’s hungry can you come get married already?” Ben asked. Jack quickly redressed himself, the two of you making sure the other was presentable. Once you both were properly dressed Jack opened the door. Ben’s eyes were buried in his hands. “Ben you can look at us you know,” Jack said, reaching over to his nightstand and grabbing his mask. The blonde shook his head. You stuck your head out from behind Jack.

“You really don’t wanna see me naked?” You asked curiously. You couldn’t help but burst into a fit of giggles as Ben quickly looked at you. Jack went to hit him, the blonde dodging his hit. “You gotta be faster than that Jacky boy,” He said teasingly, running down the hallway. Jack looked at you, his blue mask secured to his face. You stood on your tippy toes, pressing a kiss to his mask before encouraging him, “Go get em tiger, i’ll make sure the bridal party is ready.”

The bridal party in question was standing in beside the alter. Toby was your maid of honor, the ticking time bomb the most excited out of the three of them. Masky and Hoodie on the other hand, could not believe you roped them into this. “They’re fucking right now aren’t they?” Masky asked. Their gazes fell on Jack chasing Ben across the yard. “Maybe Ben got a peak, lucky man,” Hoodie snickered. Masky elbowed his partner, rolling his eyes. “They’re going on a honeymoon right? We’re never gonna get any sleep if they stay here after this is over,” Masky grumbled. They watched as Jack tackled Ben, the two tumbling to the ground.

“Where could they even go for a honeymoon?” Hoodie questioned. Toby waved cheerfully as you walked out of the back door. “They’re going to a remote cabin Slender got for them, isn’t that sweet?” He asked, smiling as you wobbled across the yard. Masky and Hoodie exchanged glances before resuming a calm facade. “Ten dollars says she’s pregnant by the time she gets back,” Hoodie said immediately. Masky grabbed a twenty dollar bill out of his pocket and showed it to his friends. “Make it twenty, not physically possible,” Masky replied. He raised his eyebrows as he watched Ben climb Jack like a jungle gym, the two in a petty brawl.

“They are aware they’re supposed to be getting married right now right?” Hoodie asked, watching as you smiled and greeted Laughing Jill and Jack. Masky sighed, reaching in his pocket and grabbing a box of cigarettes. “You can’t do that! This is a sacred ceremony!” Toby gasped, his head twitching to the side. Masky dug around in his suit pockets for a lighter. “Yeah yeah it’ll be fine kid. How long are we required to be here anyways? Boss was pretty vague with us,” Masky asked. Toby’s smile was cheerful as Hoodie handed Masky a lighter.

“He said till dawn.”

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faeriekit · 3 months ago

Text

What it's been like to try to get into comics thus far:

Someone tells you to try reading comics online. It's free! Cool. You'll try it. You make a mental note to try an online search when you get home, and go about your day.

You try to find a site that has old comics. You click around. The scroll bar is huge. You recognize none of the names. There are some sets of series that seem to have the same name. You pick one at random. You don't understand what you're looking at. You close the tab. You'll try again tomorrow.

"Try reading _____ series! It's so good!" You look for the series name online. Turns out it's just a nickname. You can't be sure which version of the series it is. The wiki is no help. You'll try again tomorrow.

You watch a show based on the comics characters. It's fun; not groundbreaking, but fun. You look it up online later. Everyone complains about how it's not like the comics' characterizations. The writers did them dirty. You should read the comics instead. You close the forum tab.

"Why don't these idiots just get into comics? All these people are just cluttering up the fandom with their horrible takes on the characters. They clearly have no idea what the actual character/plot/series is like!" Okay. You do want to know, so it's probably worth another try. You'll try again tomorrow.

They didn't include a link. You have no idea what you're looking for without context. You keep looking stuff up and getting different names of series and characters and location. You have no idea where you are, and every beginning seems like the middle of the story. There are four different wikis in your results tab and you're not sure which one is actually the think you're looking for. You'll try again tomorrow.

You read the graphic novels. You like them a lot. You know that's not what they're talking about.

You watch a movie. It has the comic characters in it. You like it. You check it out online to see if other people like it too, and all you see is more complaints about how it differs from the comics. You're doing it wrong.

"People who can't get into comics are just weak. Just pick a random spot and start!" Okay. You go back to that endless scroll bar. You try to start reading something at random. It relies on concepts you haven't been introduced to and character relationships that already have an unseen depth to them. You don't have the context for any of it. You don't understand. Why is it moving so fast? Are you just too tired to understand what's on the page? You'll try again tomorrow, just in case.

You pick an omnibus off the shelf at the library. It starts in the middle of someone else's story and ends up with a cast in the low twenties. You try to keep up. You know who most of the people are, but the focus is so large and the story is so overwhelming that you don't think you really absorbed, like...any of it?? You put it back on the shelf. You'll try it again tomorrow.

You've seen more versions of every character than most fans ever will. You think longingly of what it must be like to be a filthy casual. You bet they're not wondering if they're bad at this hobby late at night. People probably vagueblog about them, too, but they don't even notice. Must be nice.

You watch another movie. It's nice. You end up with an omnibus of a short-run of something, so it's easier to digest. That's nice too. You're just reading to read. It's pleasant.

People argue online about what the BEST characterization of this person is and who's an awful writer and the runs no one should read and the stuff that WAS canon but now it ISN'T and there's the RIGHT stuff to read and the WRONG stuff to read, and some of it is truly terrible. You try to remember what the RIGHT stuff is, or else everyone will know that you're doing this wrong. You have to remember that this is just a hobby. You're having fun. You're supposed to be having fun.

"Fans of THIS adaptation are so annoying; they clog up the real works of appreciators of the original comics run and ruin the characters!" You look at the adaptation. It's officially licensed. Neat. The rest of the stuff you've tried has been official too. It hasn't stopped the vitriol.

You think that some of the fans hold the preciousness of the comics closer to their chest than the actual publisher. You're not sure what to do with that thought. You're so tired. You read another comics-based graphic novel, since it's on the shelf at B&N, and it's good. It's really, really good. You know in your heart it doesn't count as liking comics, and you wish it would get the same appreciation as the famous comics in your fangroups. You know it won't.

A fanauthor you like vagueposts about the idiots who can't even read the fucking comics once every other week. You've almost unfollowed them maybe half a dozen times. If you do, you won't get to see their works when they post. They hate you and they haven't met you, and they have no idea you exist. Okay. Maybe you'll do it tomorrow.

You like the characters. You like your fellow fans' interpretations of them. You like their stories and you love their art and you love sharing ideas with them and you're having fun. You're having fun and you're doing it wrong. No one wants you here and you don't understand what makes a good adaptation as opposed to a bad one if they're both well written and well liked and no one is willing to have a full on conversation without condescending down to you for being a fan without knowing anything. It's been a year. It's been a year and everyone else has been reading since they were knee high and you're behind because it's only been a year and there's cultural history you're only just learning and how dare you be ignorant of it. Don't you know how much you're missing? Don't you know how stupid you are??

You see officially licensed merchandise in the store. It makes you feel weird. You're having fun. You have to be having fun, or else what's the point?

People will do anything with beginner or prospective fans except give them a link to a recommendation. You can like a character, but you can't have a different interpretation of them— that's exclusive to officially licensed adaptations, and even then people will complain. You're on your own. No one will help you.

You're on your own. No one will help you.

You check out a couple of comics-based picture books and a graphic novel that looks interesting. You put a DVD of an adaptation on hold. You're on your own, and no one will help you, but maybe you have a right to have fun by yourself.

You watch. You read. You have fun. It's not enough, but you're...happy. You're pretty sure that's what this is.

Close enough.

#media studies #faer winds #comics

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kbspangler · 8 months ago

Text

This is the public statement from @alepresser and myself which went up at Webtoons tonight.

Now for some ranting. Just from me, not from Ale—she's innocent of the art crimes I've committed in the past, and boy howdy have I committed art crimes.

This is the first page of my first webcomic, A Girl and Her Fed. I started this thing back in 2006. (I don't actually need a head count of those reading this who weren't yet born in 2006. I'm sure you're delightful and I wish you well in college.)

And this is the last page I drew in early 2020 before I turned art duties over to Dr. Beer. It's better, right?

Well, these days, A Girl and Her Fed has pages like this:

I drew this comic for fourteen fucking years because it's a story I wanted to tell, and I thought webcomics were the perfect format for it. I didn't know how to draw. I got better through sheer obstinate perseverance and sticking to deadlines as best I could for, again, fourteen fucking years. I sought out a replacement artist when I ran into time constraints and couldn't do art plus writing anymore; I'm a much better writer than an artist, so I had no problems whatsoever kicking art to the curb.

The first time Ale sent me art that would go up on the website—art I hadn't needed to draw myself—I literally cried in relief because I had been grinding myself down for, yet again, fourteen fucking years.

So when I read comments from people who say they want to make a webcomic but can't draw themselves and therefore need to resort to AI, that little line between my eyes gets dangerously deep.

This isn't like I'm some old dude who's bitching over student loans getting cancelled after making regular payments. This is me, someone who threw raw art onto the internet like a monkey hurling fresh poo, because I wanted to make a webcomic and the art is part of the process of storytelling via webcomics! I could've (arguably should've) hired an artist right out of the gate, and that would've been part of the process of making comics, too: a partnership between an artist and a writer is also something which grows and develops over time.

For example, after Dr. Beer and I spent two years working on AGAHF, we decided we enjoyed our partnership so much that we set out to make another webcomic! It's great! It's got wonderful art and consistent storytelling! You should read it!

But turning art duties over to unaltered images generated by AI because you want to make a webcomic but "just can't draw" is, frankly, a bullshit excuse. I'm not talking about persons who are physically unable to draw due to disability—I'm talking about people who say they want to make webcomics but simply don't wanna do the art part.

Friends, if you don't want to show your entire ass in front of God and country, you don't actually want to make a webcomic.

Do the thing yourself.

If you're scared, don't be. Take the plunge. Set a goal of twenty strips and do the thing yourself. If you can already draw but can't write? Great! Write twenty strips, write forty panels, etc. You might surprise yourself. If you can write but can't draw? Great! Draw twenty panels and see what happens.

Whatever comes out of it, it's a thing you've done yourself. It's something new you've given to the world, no matter how big or small. Be proud of that. And if you need to partner with someone else to make your comic dreams work? You can do that, too! It's still a thing you've done yourself, and many projects are stronger when done together.

...but maaaaaaaaaybe hire that partner before you've busted your own ass for fourteen fucking years. That one's on me.

#webcomic #webcomics #side quested #comic #comics #indie comics #webtoon #webtoons #AI #ai art #ai generated #ai image #ai artwork #artificial intelligence

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pers1st · 8 months ago

Text

questions

pairing: katie mccabe x reader

notes: this is just a silly little blurb

“Alright, I feel like starting an argument, so I’m gonna ask Katie some questions”, you smiled at your phone set up in front of the both of you, not failing to miss your girlfriend furrowing her eyebrows at you. You had told her you wanted to film a TikTok, and she had laughed at you when you had searched around your nightstand to pull out the abnormally large notebook she had bought on your request a few weeks ago, but you hadn’t told her what the video was about, wanting to catch her reaction on the camera.

“What?”, she asked, a shocked grin on her lips as her Irish twang filled your ears, looking at you with her mouth agape.

“Shush”, you hummed, opening the notebook and shielding it from her view. The mini mic was in your other hand as you skimmed through the first page.

“Okay, question number one”, you cleared your throat theatrically, looking at your girlfriend seriously.

“If I ever died, would you fall in love with someone else?”, you asked, knowing that this was likely the trickiest question and would, in another context, be incredibly weighted.

Katie furrowed her eyebrows, thinking for a moment, before clearing her own throat. She leaned over towards your mini mic.

“No. I’d be sad for the rest of me life”, she explained, looking between the camera and you expectantly, a victorious grin on her face.

“Wrong. Would you not die with me?”, you asked offendedly, suppressing your own chuckle as Katie’s smile dropped within seconds. She opened her mouth in shock, looking away from the camera to turn to you instead.

“No no no, we talked-”, you leaned over towards the camera to cut the video off.

“Katie, stop arguing. You were wrong”, you laughed. “That wasn’t the answer I wrote down!”

She turned to look at your book expectantly, but you pushed it away from her just in time.

“No, no cheating. You were wrong!”

“Babe, that’s not fair.”

You knew Katie, and you knew that she hated losing, but it simply made the situation all too funnier.

“Alright, can we go on now?”

She mumbled something that was incoherent to you in an answer, making you suppress another snicker, but you tried to keep your composure in hopes not to aggravate her any further. This video was going to send her spiraling anyways, as Katie was competitive as ever, in everything she did. You, however, were having a lot of fun.

“Okay”, you huffed as you pressed the record button again.

“Question number two. If I gave you a shopping list, and sent you to the shops, what would you buy?”, you asked into the mini mic, looking at your girlfriend expectantly. Katie, once again, thought for a short second before opening her mouth.

“Everything on the shopping list, and chocolate”, she smiled into the camera, lifting her arm victoriously.

“See, I’m getting the hang of this! You’re not fooling me there, aye!”

“What kind of chocolate?”, you interrupted her little monologue, a cheeky smile on your face. At that, Katie was stunned.

She cleared her throat, and you could tell there was hesitance as she leaned towards your microphone again.

“Salted caramel.”

“Well, that’s correct.”

Katie’s grin was there within seconds again as she turned towards you.

“Yeah, yeah. I know your chocolates.”

“Yeah, yeah”, you mimicked her accent, earning a slap to your shoulder.

“Stop making fun of me? I got yous question right, didn’t I?”

“Question number three”, you breathed, looking at your book for a second.

“What did you do wrong on the twenty-third of November, 2023?”, you asked theatrically seriously, watching on your phone as her smile dropped. You could practically see her mind spinning as she thought of an answer. She should get this one.

“Bought you that book”, she huffed, and it was clear to you then that she had no idea.

“Wrong. You cheated on me, in my dream”, you mumbled into the mic, looking at her with a smug expression.

“You didn’t tell me!”

“Yes I did, and you never said you were sorry!”, you exclaimed back, watching as her eyebrows furrowed.

“I didn’t?”

You still remembered that night, very clearly. The relationship between you and Katie had just been made public, and despite the fact that you had intended to hide it for a little longer, the two of you had decided to just go with it and embrace it from now on, leading you to now- filming Tik Toks together during Arsenal’s training camp, in her hotel bed, with her arm around your knee. The nightmare had felt so real then, as you slept beside her, that it had woken you up in cold sweat, your tears, as silent as you could keep them, waking Katie up despite your efforts.

“Love? What’s wrong?”, she had mumbled in her sleep, sitting up as best as she could as she felt your shaking frame beside her.

“I had a dream”, you mumbled into your hands, as she closed her arms around you, pulling you in.

“You cheated on me”, you added, voice barely above a whisper.

“Babe, I’d never do that, you know that. Right?”, she asked, and despite the fact that your relationship was still fresh then, you did know. You just had a feeling. So, you nodded into the crook of her neck, allowing her to hold you for the rest of the night, as closely as she could.

“Well, I’m sorry”, she mumbled now, her arm around your leg straightening out so that she could stroke your knee, an amused expression on her face.

“It’s okay”, you replied, smiling at her for a second before diving back into your book.

“Okay, fourth question. In our relationship, do I have the looks or the humor?”, you asked, waiting for your girlfriend’s answer.

“The looks?”, she asked, rubbing her face in frustration.

“Wrong. The correct answer is, I have both”, you grimaced into the camera before you were ready to continue.

“You didn’t tell me that was an option!”, Katie exclaimed offendedly at your reply.

“Well, you should’ve thought about it anyways.”

At that, Katie huffed, shaking her head humoredly as she watched you glance through your book again.

“Fifth question. If you were in a room, with a hundred other women, would you be able to tell me apart by my laugh?”, you asked, trying to mask the grin on your face. There was no way she would get this question right. The correct answer would absolutely have her yelling at you in frustration, and you had to really concentrate in order to not crack up at the thought.

You stretched out your mini mic towards her, eager to know her answer.

“Yes, you laugh like an elephant!”

“I’m sorry?!”, you whipped your head around, staring at your girlfriend with your mouth agape. Katie snickered.

“That’s wrong. And offensive. In so many ways”, you huffed.

Katie didn’t mind the fact that you were seriously offended, seemingly proud of herself for her answer.

“What’s the correct answer then?”, she asked as she mimicked your British accent, wiggling her brows at you.

“The correct answer is, you wouldn’t be in a room with a hundred women”, you spoke into your mic, not caring about Katie laughing disbelievingly at your answer.

“This is ridiculous”, she chuckled, shaking her head at your antics. She should have been used to this by now, though.

“Alright guys. That was the video. I’m off to start an argument now”, you smiled at the camera as Katie waved, before pushing her off the bed with all your strength.

#woso community #woso #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics #katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe oneshot #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal #awfc x reader #awfc imagine #awfc #katie mccabe imagine

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garlicisgodsbestinvention · 5 months ago

Text

perfect dimensions

(Carmy x Designer!Reader)

Summary: The Bear is weeks from opening, and Sugar hires an interior designer to bring the vision to life. Part 1/3.

Warnings: cursing, WILL contain smut later 👀NO use of Y/N because this is the 21st century. Carmy x female!reader, reader is described as having longer hair but that’s it for physical descriptions. NOT EDITED because I’m lazy girl tehe

—————————MINORS DNI——————————

“I hired a designer,” Natalie tells them in passing on Thursday, waving a vague hand when both Syd and Carmy open their mouthes to ask, “She’ll be here in like, twenty minutes.”

“Okay, heard, but we already have a design,” Carmy says, gesturing to the wall covered in layouts.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you had a degree in architecture and engineering. Those are fake dimensions, Bear; we don’t know shit about anything, so someone is going to come in and make sure that we’ve got the right fucking shade of white!” Natalie shouts before the office door slams shut, leaving Syd and Camry to stare after her with equal confusion.

“Pregnancy is making her…” Syd starts to say.

“Mean?”

“Yeah, mean. Definitely a little mean,” Sydney sighs, “She’s right though. Vibe doesn’t get us to opening night.”

And that’s how Carmen finds himself stuttering through an introduction from a now much-more-pleasant Natalie when she shows a woman through the front doors.

Carmen extends his hand to you, clearing his throat, nodding like a fucking idiot when you tell him your name.

“Yeah,” he says, “I’m uh, I’m Carmen.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say, mouth spreading into a smile that makes his heart beat a little faster. “Walk me through?”

Natalie takes the lead while Carmy and Syd hang back. One glance at the look on his partner’s face should have sent Carmy scrambling for something else to do, but he’s not fast enough to remove himself from her presence before a laugh is bubbling from between her closed lips and he’s desperately hoping his face isn’t turning red.

“Im, uh, Carmen,” Syd lowers her voice in a mocking tone.

“Fuck right off,” Carmy shakes his head at her.

“You literally forgot your name!”

“I didn’t forget my fuckin’ name—“

“Like oh my god, a pretty girl with pretty eyes appears and you forget how to talk!”

“Are you done?”

“Absolutely not. I can’t wait for Richie to meet her.”

Carmen wishes the day would never come.

Ten minutes later you appear back in the dining room, Fak following close behind with a shit-eating grin that makes Carmy wish he had never gotten out of bed this morning.

“Carmy! Did you know she likes to bake?”

“No, Fak, we’ve only just met. Would you let her do her job?” Carmen sighs, rubbing his fingers into his eyes to stop an oncoming headache. Syd snorts.

“We’ll chat more later, Neil, I promise,” you say.

“You might have just made yourself a new best friend,” Syd laughs.

Carmy looks away the moment your eyes swivel over to his, trying to disguise that he’s staring as best he can.

“So,” you say, “Natalie said you had drawings. May I see?”

Camry’s fingers itch in a weird way, but he manages a nod before striding over to his backpack to pull out the notebook while you scan the wall of swatches and inspiration photos. You nods your head a little, like you’re concocting an idea.

Carmy wants to twirl a finger through the strand of hair hanging loose out of your updo.

“So, uh, this is what I’ve come up with so far.”

He then spends the next ten minutes walking you through each of the drawings, explaining himself a little too thoroughly, and making random comments about lighting and booth fabric. You look intent the whole time, brow furrowed at the page, occasionally pointing and you don’t even have to say anything—Carmy just starts to over explain immediately following the point of your painted fingernail.

When he’s done, you nod your head slowly, the corner of your mouth twitching up. You’re wearing some sort of lipstick that reminds Carmy of the stain of touching a cherry pit.

“These are amazing,” you say finally, and Carmy feels his face heat. “I like the vibe. I love the vibe, actually. Are you a sensitive person?”

You look up at him and Carmy short-circuits.

Syd says yes, at the exact time he says no.

“Conflicting signals,” you say, “Anyone else to weigh in?”

It takes a second for him to realize that you’re making a joke, and he has to shake himself out of a stupor caused completely by the sight of your smile.

“Uh, no, no I’m good. Gimme feedback,” he says, and you reach out to flip the pages back, landing on the entry.

“Great. I’m going to tell you what we need to fix,” you say, straight to the point. “This entry is too small. Either we need to extend out into the sidewalk, or we need to push the kitchen back by at least five or six feet. The bar is going to create a bottleneck right here, and we need to inset these shelves to give you a little more working room. The lighting here needs to be sconces, and the bathroom doors need to slide to maximize space—this is too small for a swinging door.”

Carmen is fully intent on taking in every word you’re saying, but out of the corner of his eye he can’t help but see Syd’s face transform into something mildly resembling devious.

“Heard,” Carmy says, nodding his head as you looks back up. “Let’s rock.”

——————————————————————————

You become a fixture in Carmy’s life in the same way that Sydney or Richie or Nat are, appearing every time he turns the corner and whispering a hello in passing before you start barking orders to the contractors who listen to your every word. Strangely, he can relate. A week ago you told him, Carmen, please decide which side of the bar you want the ice machine on, and do it quickly so I can tell the water guy when he gets here. He’s never made a decision so fast in his life.

Even Nat had popped an eyebrow when he replied, on it, before you’d even really finished your sentence.

Usually, he’s on autopilot—walking in and straight back to the office or the kitchen and hardly ever stopping to notice what’s going on. He’s the first one in and the last one out by design, so he doesn’t even see everyone else arrive until they’re already there.

This morning, though, Carmy walks into the kitchen to see you already there, writing something out in a notebook as Natalie talks, waving her hands wildly.

“Okay, I got you,” you’re saying only glancing up when Carmy’s shoes shuffle too loudly on the floor. “Oh! Good, you’re here. I need you.“

Carmy raises his eyebrows. “Need me?”

“To look at paint swatches,” you say, ushering him into the main dining area. The words ring in his head like bells as he follows you, the scent of your perfume surrounding him as he walks through the crowd of it. You smells so good, and it reminds him of New York City somehow, the faint scent of rain.

He figures that you must have come in even earlier than he and Natalie both, because you’re dressed more casually than usual, and there’s a charm necklace dangling over your tee shirt that he tries to identify when you turn without you realizing he’s staring. He makes out a paintbrush and nothing else.

“Right, so,” you start, gesturing to the wall. There’s a beat of silence with them both staring at the three swatches on the wall, and then Carmy turns towards you.

Your words overlap.

Carmy says, “I hate them.”

At the same moment, you say, “They’re horrible, right?”

Carmy laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, not it.”

“Okay, so hear me out.” You say, leaving his side to pull something from your folder. “Pink.”

“Pink?”

“Like, oyster shell pink. Neutral enough that in the low light it’ll look pale, almost indiscernible from white. And this wall—“ you point to the back where the booths will be and shake your head. “Has to be a mural. It’ll look unfinished if it’s bare.”

Carmy nods along with everything that you say, trying to envision it. “What kind of mural?”

You tilt your head, chewing at your lip. Carmy completely short-circuits for an embarrassingly long second.

“I might have some ideas,” you say in a soft voice, crossing over to the table where you’ve set your things and pulling out a black sketchbook.

“Two artists in residence, huh?” Carmy jokes, his stomach fluttering when you smile.

“Do you draw anything other than food and restaurant interiors?” You ask.

“Sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” you repeat, looking up at him. He knows that you want him to elaborate—he would never admit out loud that he spends the hours he’s not cooking trying to replicate the way your necklace hangs off of your neck and the curve of your wrist.

Occasionally he doesn’t do weird, obsessive, borderline creepy things—sometimes he sketches the buildings outside his window as the sun goes down, or tries to remember what the boat in Copenhagen looked like, or that one place he used to drink coffee at in New York.

Your eyes narrow at him just a little, like you’re trying to read all the things he’s not saying.

He dips his head, half to look at the page you’ve opened the notebook to and half to get out from under the scrutiny of your pretty eyes.

“That’s insane,” Carmy finds himself saying, looking down at the waves of color on the page. “It looks like, almost like wood? Or marble. That’s—fuck, that’s so cool.”

The page is covered in shades of brown and deep green and black, melding together into something that reminds him of tree rings or stained wood panels, muted like an old chinoiserie river painting.

“You could hire someone to change it out seasonally maybe, it’d be cool, but I think something like this would look nice with the color of the wood we picked for the tables—“

“Will you do it?” Carmy asks, fingertips tracing over the edge of the paper and coming away brushed with color—oil pastels. “Could you, I mean, I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it like this.” He tells you, rubbing the tips of his fingers together and watching the color meld together before meeting your eye.

Your mouth is parted, eyes wide as you look at him, and he gets the urge to flick your bottom lip to see if it’s as soft as it looks.

“I,” you start to say, “Yeah. I can do it. If you want me to.”

“I do,” he says, too quickly. “Want you to. Paint it.”

Because what else would he be asking you to do? He wants to throw his entire brain into the blender on high.

“Okay,” you say, “I’ll start tomorrow.”

He makes a mental note to make sure he’s there all day to peer through the windows and watch you work.

#Syd is Carmy’s biggest fan and also his biggest hater #Carmy see girl and brain go brrrrrrr #Carmy don’t be creepy challenge #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy the bear #the bear hulu #the bear fx #designer au #the bear au

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ash5monster01 · 1 year ago

Text

Learning to Love

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x FemReader!PlusSize

Warnings: 18+, langauge, angst, fluff, mentions of bullying, body image issues, fat shaming, fake relationship, eventual smut, minor enemies to lovers trope.

Summary: It's not uncommon for you to be shamed for your size, it is however uncommon to be told that no one would ever date you because of it. Rafe on the other hand is used to being called a jerk, that is until he is accused of seeing people for only what's on the surface. It's purely coicidental you two meet right after these accusations are thrown your way. So even though you two don't know each other, and probably never would've looked the others way before this, now you're both going to prove a point. It's simple really, prove others wrong and don't fall in love. Easier said than done.

word count: 3k

→ Part 1

Masterlist

You're used to crude comments, truly. Living in the Outer Banks has proven nothing other than the fact that kooks will always be cruel, even if it's towards other kooks. As long as you're in a bathing suit, something is going to be said. Which is proven true as you lie on the beach, book in hand, and sunglasses hung low on your nose. It's your only day off and you were going to enjoy it. Soak up the sun as much as you can because summer would fade away before you knew it. You had only chosen the two piece bathing suit to get more of a tan, maybe a little extra sun. It's only twenty pages into your book you hear two boys snickering not far from your own set up.

"Look a beached whale, should we call the authorities?" your ears burn red only slightly, after all you were used to it. Honestly you could care less anymore.

"God, she has to know that's gross" the other responds after his bellowing laughs have calmed down. They truly can't be that stupid they don't realize how loud they're talking right?

"No decent looking, hell self respecting man would ever date a girl like that" this punches the air out of your lungs. You knew your body type wasn’t considered attractive. This was common knowledge, but to hear someone say you couldn’t possibly ever date an attractive man is something else entirely.

“I know I wouldn’t” the boys laugh again, hands clapping together as they stare you down like you were the most disgusting thing on this beach.

You’re not upset about what they were saying. You survived highschool after all. Your school had already been divided by kooks and pogues, add in the big girl and that’s a recipe for disaster. You’ve heard the most vile and mean things a person could say. Somehow you came out of it with still a little self respect, hell even some confidence, because if you were anything at all it was strong. You had dated here and there, never had anything stick though. Maybe that’s why this comment resonated so hard with you. No matter how decent a person you meet maybe you’re bound to end up ugly and alone because an attractive man belongs with an attractive girl.

Rafe has had to attend hundreds of useless business meetings since his Dad died. He had wanted this. When he was nineteen and trying to prove to his Dad that he was worth it, but now he was gone. He had no one to impress anymore and at twenty three he carried the burden of being the CEO of an entire company with his last name on it. So that’s how he finds himself inside of dark clubs at noon, sharing a scotch with guys willing to play dirty to get what they want. He often wonders why he had wanted this life so badly. Everything he had believed in for so long was now gone. His Dad, the treasure, and now even kooks and pogues. Ever since his sister had found that treasue social classes had been practically eliminated or at least weren't acknowledged like they were before. All of this had now left Rafe without a sense of self and he desperatley needed something to change.

"Man, why can't they hire pretty waitresses to look at anymore?" Levi, a coworker slurred as he watched their waitress walk away. Rafe noticed her shoulders stiffen because she had heard what he had said. He hated he felt guilty over it.

"It's a bar, not a strip club" Matt, another coworker teased and Rafe rolled his eyes. Four years ago these guys could've been his best friends, and he would've teased the waitress right along with them. Now things were different, he was different.

"I happen to think she's cute" Rafe told them before finishing the last sip of his scotch. He knew when he got back to the office people would give disapproving looks but he didn't know what to do with himself anymore. It was like he was just floating and letting the tide drag him along wherever it wanted to.

"Yeah right" Matt snorted out a laugh and Rafe gave him a confused look as Levi started to laugh along with him.

"Seriously Rafe, you’re way out of her league" Levi told him, his shoulder bumping with his own.

"No I'm not and there is no such thing as leagues" Rafe told them with a pointed look but the boys just continued to laugh anyway.

"Yes there is and the only one's in Rafe Cameron's league are tall hot blondes with legs for miles and tan skin smooth enough slide on" Matt said and Rafe felt his stomach clench as they spoke. Had he unintentionaly maintained a type, only taken someone for their looks? Flashes of ex girlfriends went through his mind and he had realized after all this time he had only taken women for surface things.

“That can’t be true” Rafe shook his head and the boys just chuckled.

“Admit dude, you’re an asshole and you like pretty little things. Nothing wrong with that” Levi said as he slapped his back, taking another sip of his own scotch. Rafe however realized there was everything wrong with that. Yeah he’s been a jerk his whole life but had he ever actually dated a girl he liked? Someone with substance?

“Hell would freeze over the day Rafe Cameron dated someone other than a supermodel” Matt pointed with the scotch in his hand and Rafe just shook his head, eyes scanning over the small crowd that littered the bar. For the first time he was seeing people he never would’ve noticed before.

He wondered if this was a side effect of his life before. Privileged kook, popularity, a need to impress everyone around him. Had women become a part of all of that too? A side effect of a need to please, to be the best. Had he been wasting years of actually meeting someone with a personality due to his natural self destructive ways? God he hoped not. Then again he couldn’t recall ever really liking the girls he dated, he usually just tuned them out and used them when he needed to make an appearance with a date. He had never actually dated someone for fun. Worst of all he hated that everyone knew this of him. That he dated for appearance instead of happiness. He wanted to change that.

You could only take so much of the harassment coming from the two boys on the beach, so after three hours you declared you’d had enough sun and started to pack your things. When the cover up slipped over your head you didn’t miss the applause coming from them. Rolling your eyes you grabbed your bag and started the hike up the beach. You needed a drink.

Rafe hadn’t been able to shake the thoughts over the girls he dated. After a very long recollection of every girl he had ever brought around he couldn’t think of one he actually enjoyed spending time with. With this in mind he dismissed Matt and Levi back to the office, claiming he’d find a way back on his own. He needed more time to think about this, and a stiff drink to go along with it. So that’s how he found himself now sitting directly at the bar and not inside the dark booth. The whiskey in his hand suggested he wasn’t making it back to the office anytime soon.

Normally he wouldn’t remove his focus from the drink in his hands but when a bag is slapped on the counter top beside him he finds himself lifting his head. The girl claiming the seat beside him is dressed in stark contrast to his own attire. He’s still in his work suit, tie loosened around his neck, but the girl beside him has clearly just come from the beach. Her hair is wild and wrapped in a bun a top her head. A red bikini strap peaks out the collar of the white coverup. Her breasts had left wet spots slightly see through to the red fabric of her top, like she had left the beach in a rush.

“Hit me with the usual Randy” she calls to the bar keep and Rafe can’t tear his eyes away from her. She’s bigger, sure, but the dip of her hips and small pouted lips have Rafe every bit of intrigued. He can’t help the thought of her being a girl he might’ve never noticed before escape him. He wanted to notice her now.

“Rough day?” Randy smirks at her when he’s back, a tall glass with a dark liquid set in front of her. She takes a sip before responding.

“Every day is a rough day” she mutters and Randy just chuckles before walking off to serve other customers. It’s only when your eyes lock with his own Rafe realizes he has been staring this entire time. “Let me guess, you got something to say just like everyone else today”

“I, what?” Rafe doesn’t expect the coldness from you and how strong willed you are with it too. You aren’t scared of him, he isn’t used to that.

“Listen I’ve had my fill of assholes today so if you don’t have anything nice to say, keep it to yourself” you told him before turning back forward and taking a large gulp from the drink in your hand.

“Got someone bothering you?” Rafe asked finding his cool. He finally got himself to tear his eyes away from you, eyes scanning over the liquor bottles behind the bar. You turn to look at him, eyes drawn together in confusion.

“Not one specific person, everyone for some reason thinks they have the right to comment on my appearance” your words get him to turn back at you. Normally men don’t make you nervous but when you watch him eye you up and down you can’t help the way your heart accelerates.

“I happen to think you look just fine” the scoff that falls from your lips shocks him.

“I’m not looking for your pity, I happened to over hear today that no decent self respecting man would date me so let’s not lie to each other” you tell him and Rafe now feels the air knocked from his lungs. He can’t believe anyone would say that to you. Let alone to your face.

“If it makes you feel better I was told today that I only date woman for surface things” now you were the one drawing your eyebrows together in confusion, looking to the mystery of a man beside you.

“Surface things?” you question the stranger and he chuckles, his rings clinking on his whiskey glass.

“Appearances, apparently I’ve never looked deeper” this has you chuckling right along with him, lifting your own drink to your lips.

“Look at us then, two sides of the same coin. Makes you wonder if there really is anyone out there actually happy with who they ended up with” you say mostly to yourself, knowing this perfect stranger on a normal day would never look your way but you also would never find yourself thinking you had a chance with him.

“I think there is, at least the people who weren’t chewed up and spit out by the world” the optimism is what shocks you the most when he speaks. A hope for something better down in there.

“I wish I was one of those people” you find yourself saying and the boy turns to look at you again, eyes scanning over each of your features.

“Maybe we should prove them wrong” now you’re laughing, looking bewildered towards the boy beside you.

“And how do you suppose we do that?” you ask and he smirks, clearly having some sort of plan.

“We date. I prove to my coworkers that I date someone for more than just their looks and you prove to all those assholes that you can date a guy as good looking as me” he gestures to himself, as if his body is some of God’s best work. You scoff at his clear cheekiness but actually find yourself considering.

“I don’t even know your name” you laugh, trying to remind yourself that this ideal is completely absurd.

“Rafe Cameron, nice to meet you” his hand reaches across the bar, you take notice of how long his fingers are. With the shake of your head you find yourself putting your hand in his own.

“It’s not that simple” you tell him and he just smiles, dimples forming around his pressed together lips.

“Isn’t it though?” he says, a sparkle of amusement in his eyes and you sigh, finally removing your hand from his own.

“Date? As in fake date?” you ask and he nods, his head tipping to the side.

“Exactly, an agreement of sorts. We both benefit from each other, everything to gain and nothing to lose” he tells you like he’s already worked out every way this could end.

“We just met” you inform him and he shrugs, implying this wasn’t an issue.

“I’ve seen people date over less” he tells you and you sigh, holding your hand out to him. He looks are your empty palm confused and you quickly roll your eyes.

“You can’t take me out ion a date without my number dream boy” you tell him and he smirks while grabbing his phone out of his pocket and placing it in your hand. He watched as you meticulously open his contacts and punch in your number. You’ve named your contact ‘baby ❤️’ but he doesn’t get your real name until you type it into other names.

“Y/N? I like that” he smiles at you and you chuckle, clicking on the profile photo to take a selfie.

“We’re already off to a bad start if you want to stop liking people for just their surface things” he likes how quick witted you are and you don’t allow him a response as you lean into his personal space. “Can’t be a real girlfriend if I don’t have a profile picture in your phone”

You smile so easily and he instantly notices how beautiful it is. He’s not looking at the camera anymore but leaning in and taking in the sweet scent of your perfume mixed with the sunscreen and salty skin. You were like a walking beach and he loved that more than anything. That is how he finds his lips pressing softly against your cheek as the camera shutter clicks on his phone. Your body has chills that you have to brush off quickly as you look at the entirely real looking photo on his screen.

“If I didn’t like what was on the surface you would never be my fake girlfriend” he finally says as he takes his phone back before you could text yourself his number.

“I don’t like how easy this is for you. Are you sure I’m your first fake girlfriend?” you ask and he laughs, eyes falling on your face again.

“The first and the only” and you decide that coming into an agreement like this with a stranger shouldn’t be this simple.

“Then we need to lay some ground rules” this has him raising his eyebrows as you grab a napkin from the bar. He watches as you leaned over, searching for a pen behind the bar. Unashamedly he took the opportunity to inspect your ass, admiring the curve and thanking the see through fabric for revealing the cheeky bikini bottoms that laid over your large curves. He had never openly allowed himself to be attracted to a bigger girl. but now he was briefly wondering what it would be like to be suffocated by one.

“So, what’s these rules?” he smirked at you once you were sat back upright in your seat. He watched as you popped the cap off the pen with your teeth and leaving it in your mouth.

“Don’t worry pretty boy, I’ll keep them simple” you tell him, dropping the cap from you lips into the bar. He felt himself flush slightly at the nickname, watching as your neat and loopy handwriting moved across the napkin.

1. Must actively text/call/interact for a week before first “official” date.

2. PDA must be limited

3. Don’t catch feelings, no matter what

4. Attend whatever event your fake significant other asks of you

5. Most of all, don’t tell anyone, ever, that this is fake

“PDA must be limited?” you roll your eyes at the fact this was the only rule he questioned but you sign at the bottom of the napkin anyway.

“I don’t want to waste all of romantic gestures on something that isn’t real” you explain to him and he nods, sliding the napkin in front of him.

“I have a lot of work dinners I would like you to attend” he says as he signs the napkin.

“I’ll try my best” you tell him and now he’s furrowing his eyebrows at you.

“It’s your rule” he points at the napkin, more confused with you than when you first walked in here. “What could you possibly be busy with?”

“Work” you tell him and he still looks confused which you find adorable. Now rule number three only applies to you.

“Every night?” he questions and you chuckle as you return the pen to the other side of the bar.

“Usually, comes with the territory” and you laugh as he continues to try and process what you’re saying.

“What territory?” he asks and you smile, finishing the drink in front of you.

“My bar” and you gesture to the building around you. Rafe suddenly realizes why you know the names of the workers and why they know your usual drink order.

“You own this place?” and you nod, sliding off your seat and grabbing your bag. You also grab the napkin, now signed by you both.

“Don’t forget rule number one handsome” you tell him before heading towards the exit, determined to have a good rest of your day off. Rafe can only watch as you walk away, baffled any of what just happened actually occurred.

“Randy, I’m gonna need a refill”

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

Comment if you want to be added to the tag list :))

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moonstruckme · 1 year ago

Note

i recently found your page and i became instantly obsessed, you're such a good writer!! i'm not sure if you're taking requests rn (if you're not, ignore this hahaha) but i saw a post somewhere saying that when spencer is in love he loses the sense of direction 😭 we saw moments like those with lila and maeve (like he starts walking but then it's the wrong direction <33) and i was thinking about that with bau!reader!! they're on a case and he gets distracted by her and starts walking on the opposite direction or says something wrong and the team is all like??? because he never gets things wrong and maybe morgan teases him or something like that

sorry for the veryyyy long message!! i just thought it could be so cute, and you would write it perfectly!! obviously if you want to write it in a different way it's okay, i would be happy if you wrote it (but again, if you're not feeling it it's completely okay!! 💗) thank you and have a good day :))

Thank you sweetness <3

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 539 words

There’s an eyelash on your cheek. You’re staring at the board, and your lips are all pursed, and you’re sitting forward on your elbows, and there’s an eyelash on your cheek. Spencer has no idea how you haven’t noticed it, sitting there with both ends curled upward, precipitous on the curve of your cheekbone.

You’re saying something to Hotch about the overly gruesome nature of the case, how it points to a connection with the victims. Your cheek moves as you talk. The eyelash looks like it should be a breath away from falling off, and yet it stays stubbornly in place. Spencer really, really wants to get it for you. It’d be such a tiny gesture, the quick brush of his finger underneath your eye, so brief no one would have the chance to question it. He wonders if you believe in wishing on eyelashes. He’s seen you throw salt over your shoulder more than once, but you claim it’s more a habit from childhood than actual superstition. Still, you’re more a romantic than you like to let on. But the origin of the salt tossing is more rooted in Christianity, Spencer thinks, whereas the practice of wishing on eyelashes is more recent and often suspected to be rooted in Paganism. It supposedly emerged only in the eighteenth or nineteenth centuries, when someone in the British isles spread word that blowing an eyelash off your finger was the equivalent of blowing away the Devil, and eventually the belief morphed into good luck and wishes. Spencer wonders what you’d wish for.

“And it’s pretty clear what this is hailing to.” Prentiss’ voice is weary.

“Paganism,” Spencer says quietly, absentmindedly.

“What?”

Spencer blinks, returning to the room to find the entire table has turned to look at him. “Sorry, I—I was thinking about something else.” He glances at the board. “Jack the Ripper. The degree of mutilation is the same.”

“Right,” Hotch says, instantly back on task. “And if we’re right, he’s going to act again soon. Wheels up in twenty.”

Spencer picks up his bag, but doesn’t leave the room. “Hey,” he says as you stand, stepping closer to you. “You’ve got an eyelash.”

You blink, almost knocking it askew, but hold still as Spencer brings a hand to your face, brushing it onto his finger.

Your cheek pushes upwards as you give him a lopsided smile. “Thanks,” you say.

“Wanna make a wish?”

You make a soft, amused sound. “I don’t believe in that, and I know you don’t either.” But when Spencer holds up his fingertip, you lean forwards anyway. Your mouth purses prettily, a tiny little o, and you blow softly. It’s a small puff of air, but the eyelash whirls off into the air. The both of you track it until it reaches the ground.

You quirk an eyebrow at Spencer as if to say satisfied? and go, passing your hand along his arm fondly as you exit.

Spencer follows after you like you’ve got him on a leash, and it’s only once he’s in Garcia’s office that you say “Do you need something, Spence? I just came to bring Penelope something,” and he realizes he’s completely forgotten where he was supposed to be going.

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evanpeterswhoresblog · 1 year ago

Text

Behind the Crime

Warren Lipka x f!reader

warnings: smut, unprotected p in v, oral male receiving, dominate warren, underage drinking, underage smoking, use of marijuana, rough sex, hint of choking, talk of robbery, um yeah i think that’s it

summary: from the moment you were brought into the heist, you knew working with warren was going to be hard…

word count: 3.4k

a/n: sorry for not posting guys i have not been on the grind lately. i watched this movie and omfg evan was so attractive i just needed to write. if you’re the real warren lipka just scroll this is about evan…

~~~

You sit back in your chair, the crew members adjusting your mic. You’re starting to regret doing this interview, but it’s too late to back out now. Everything’s already set up, the camera is about to be rolling. The interviewer is sitting a few feet away from you, notes in his hand. He waits for you to give him the signal that you’re ready. You nod, he begins.

“So, y/n, how did you become involved with the group?” He asks.

“I was first approached by Spencer when I was eating lunch outside one day...”

~~~

You were sitting alone, the cool fall breeze almost too cold to be comforting. You didn’t pay much mind to it though, you were more focussed on your studying. You were flipping through the pages of another history article when suddenly there was a presence beside you. Looking up at them as soon as you noticed, you recognized the boy as someone from your class.

“Can I help you?” You asked, your tone polite.

He looked nervous as if he were about to ask you out. “Hi, uh, I don’t know if you remember my name, I’m Spencer we have Art History together.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve seen you,” you replied. “Do you need help with the homework or something?”

“No, I actually wanted to talk to you about something else, if you’re not busy or anything,” he said, his voice quiet.

You look away for a second before replying. “Sure, sit down if you want I’m not busy.”

He smiled at you before quickly sitting at the spot across from you. He put his bag on the table, you could see him take a deep breath. Was he really going to ask you out? You thought he was cute, but definitely not your type. You started to pray he wouldn’t say anything along those lines.

“I started to ask around a week or two ago about people who are good with computers and stuff, a lot of people told me you were the best person to go to,” he started. He lacked confidence in his voice, you felt bad for the poor guy but paid close attention to his words. “I need some... help with cameras.”

“What kind of cameras?” You asked, intrigued.

What he was saying was true, you were decently good with computers. You mostly would hack into places and disable things you didn’t like, like the cameras on the public library computers. It wasn’t anything illegal, at least you didn’t think it was illegal. It probably was, but you didn’t care.

“Just you know cameras in... semipublic places...”

You raised an eyebrow. “Like what kind though? Phone, laptop, desktop, security?”

“Security,” he answered quietly. “But before you say no listen, how does a couple hundred thousand dollars' worth of payment sound?

“What?”

“I won’t tell you the details till I know you’re on board but let's just say something is going down and we need help with the cameras. The pay would be huge and all you’d have to do is just mess with some cameras for like twenty minutes.”

You only stared at him; your mouth slightly hung open. Was he being serious? Was he really asking you to join him in a potential robbery that would pay hundreds of thousands of dollars? You never would’ve expected to be asked such a question on a cloudy Thursday at lunch. You shut your book completely and look around to make sure nobody is close.

“This money, it’s guaranteed?”

He nods. “As long as we get the job done, you’ll have it.”

You knew it was crazy, you knew whatever was going to happen would either result in you going to prison or having to run off into hiding. But the thought of being able to pay all your student loans off and have extra money to live off of was more appealing. Hacking into cameras wasn’t that hard, and it wasn’t going to hurt anyone. Unless it was.

“If you’re trying to get me to make sure a murder or rape isn’t on camera I’ll snitch,” you warned him.

“Oh no, nothing like that is happening at all. It’s just you know a robbery,” he replied, his expression genuine.

You nodded your head, convinced whatever he was asking couldn’t be that bad. “Okay, yeah, I’ll do it.”

~~~

“What was your first impression of the guys?

You smile. “They were really cool, funny, just overall really fun people to hang out with.”

“Do you remember the first time you met all of them?”

“Of course, like it was yesterday...”

~~~

The house you sat in front of didn’t look like a typical criminal's house. It looked like an average American’s family house actually. You were parked out on the road outside the house Spencer told you to go to, you were meeting the rest of the people involved with the robbery. It had been about ten minutes of you sitting out there debating whether or not to go in before you got a text from Spencer asking where you were. You sighed, praying to God this decision was the right one before getting out of your car.

You knocked on the front door with a shaky fist. You started to regret your decision, you thought about turning around and leaving, but the door was opened before you could act on it. An older woman stood in front of you, she looked to be in her 50s.

“Oh, you’re very pretty,” she said, making your cheeks turn red. “You’re here to see Warren, right?”

You had no idea who Warren was, but you nodded. The lady's smile grew, and she opened the door for you and ushered you inside. She directed you to the basement entrance, asking you a million questions you had no answers to. After those few but excruciating painful minutes though, you walked down the basement stairs and finally caught sight of Spencer.

There were three other guys in the room and all of their eyes were on you. Two, along with Spencer, were sitting on a couch. One of them was skinny with glasses, the other muscular with no glasses. They didn’t grasp your attention though. The last guy who was standing did. He had long dark curly hair, and eyes to match. His eyes met yours before you watched them slowly move up and down your body. You didn’t know how to react.

“Guys, this is y/n,” Spencer said, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Hello, I’m Eric,” the guy with glasses introduced himself.

“Chas,” the muscular guy spoke, not paying much attention to you. “Are you sure this was a good idea, Spence? How much do we really know about this chick? No offense.”

“Shut up, we agreed,” Spencer hissed. He waved you over and you complied, walking to the couch and sitting on the end beside him.

The standing guy took a step forward and held out his hand to you. You looked up at him before accepting his handshake. His hand was rough, you liked the feeling of it in yours. “I’m Warren and you are our cameraman or woman I guess.”

You laughed. “I guess.”

“How much has Spencer told you?” Warren asked after letting go of your hand and stepping back. It was then you noticed the maps on the wall with drawings all over them, the layout looked familiar.

“Just that I need to hack some cameras and that it’ll pay me a lot,” you answered. “I don’t even know what you guys are stealing.”

“Well y/n, I’m sure you’ve been to your own school's library right?”

You nodded.

“Have you ever taken a tour of the library’s rare book collection?”

You nodded again.

Warren smirked. “Then you know exactly what we’re stealing.”

Your face fell and you immediately looked at Spencer and the rest of the guys. “Are you serious? You guys want to steal historic books?”

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Chas mumbled from his chair.

“Shut up Chas,” Warren quickly snapped. He looked back at you, his dark eyes engulfing yours completely. “We’ve been planning this out for months, and you are the last piece to our puzzle y/n. Think about how much you’ll be earning.”

You didn’t say anything. Maybe it was a bad idea.

~~~

“Chas eventually stopped being cold to me, I actually think in the end he became my closest friend in the group,” you say, finishing your story.

The interviewer gives you a look. “Well, besides Warren right?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you reply, a confused look on your face.

“I have to ask if the stories are true, you know about you and him. The other guys say something changed between the two of you after a party you all attended. I mean, didn’t the police even question if your involvement had a deeper meaning than simply the money?”

You shake your head, giving your best performance. “Me and Warren were only ever best friends, there was never a deeper meaning behind anything.”

~~~

Music was pumping through your body, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head you could feel it. It had been a few weeks since you met the guys, and they all wanted to do something fun before the heist. So, a frat party was naturally the easiest option. That’s where you were now, already two shots and half a joint in. You didn’t know where Spencer, Nick, and Warren were, but Chas was dancing with you.

Though the two of you got off on the wrong foot, you and Chas quickly learned how well you get along. He was a good friend, all of the guys were. You liked how easily they could make you laugh and brighten your mood. They were all good people who you enjoyed being around.

Warren was the only one that you felt different for. You didn’t know why, but from the first day you met you knew your feelings for him would be different than the other three. The way he looked at you alone was completely different than the others. There was always something darker in his eyes, something you knew wasn’t supposed to be there for simply a friend. Every time the two of you looked at each other, your stomach filled with butterflies. You wanted it too. But in those first few weeks, nothing had happened. No matter how much either of you wanted it.

After some minutes of you and Chas dancing, Warren and Spencer appeared. They asked if the two of you wanted to go out and smoke, you both agreed and followed them outside the back. Not too many people were in the backyard, but there were enough for there to be a bonfire going. The four of you found an empty spot near the fire and sat down. Warren took out a joint and lit it before passing it around.

“Where’s Nick?” You asked after taking a hit.

Spencer shrugged. “Probably with the weird kids doing weird stuff.”

“He’s not that weird,” Chas replied. “He’s just awkward.”

You watched as Warren took another long hit of the joint. Because of the weed and alcohol, you found yourself even more attracted to him than when you were sober. You wanted so desperately to run your fingers through his hair, you wanted to hear his voice as you touched him. He suddenly met your gaze, his lips curled up into a mesmerizing smile. You wanted to kiss him. It was too much for you to handle.

You swallowed and stood up, brushing the dirt off your shorts. “I need to um use the bathroom.”

You didn’t wait for any of their replies. Instead, you rushed back into the house straight to the kitchen. You poured yourself a shot, downing it before giving it a second thought. You needed these feelings to go away. How were you supposed to work with Warren if you couldn’t even look at him without thinking about having sex with him? It made you feel awful. A hookup couldn’t be the reason the robbery went bad, you refused to let that happen.

After another shot, you started to forget about your feelings. In fact, you started to forget about Warren completely. All you felt was the burning sensation of the alcohol in your stomach and chest, it felt good. You stumbled out of the kitchen and into the hallway, grabbing the railings of the staircase for support. Suddenly, you felt a presence next to you, their hand on your back.

“Y/N, are you good?” It was Warren.

You turned your head and looked at him, God how could he look even better? “No- I’m not okay.”

“You’re wasted, you need some water,” he said. He moved his hand around your waist and pulled you up straight. You felt like you were on fire. “Come on, back to the kitchen.”

“Why are you here? I just- I just wanna forget about you,” you mumbled.

He started helping you walk back to the kitchen. “What? Why would you want to forget about me?”

“Because... I want you but I can’t have you. I thought you- felt the same that’s why it’s been so hard to resist,” you spoke, stumbling over your words. “I can’t look at you without thinking about you fucking me.”

Even in your drunken state, you could still see the cockiness on Warren’s face. He lifted you up onto the kitchen counter effortlessly before turning and getting you a cup of water. You leaned your head back against one of the cabinets, your head was spinning. You couldn’t think straight.

“Drink,” Warren’s voice filled your ears.

You lifted your head and grabbed the solo cup from his hand, downing the water faster than ever. When you finished, you threw the cup to the floor, your eyes meeting Warren’s once again. He was standing close enough that if you reached, you could touch him.

Perhaps it was because of the alcohol, or perhaps it was because of how long you’d felt the tension between you two, that gave you the courage to gently place your hand on the top of his head. His hair was soft, just like you’d expected it to be. You smiled and played with his curls. He didn’t object, you were glad. You needed this.

“Do you want me?” You asked, your voice barely audible against the loud music.

“What do you think?”

You shrugged. “I thought so, but I could always be wrong.”

“Maybe I should make it clearer,” he said. He grabbed your wrist and pulled your hand off his head before stepping closer to you. “If this house wasn’t crowded, I’d fuck you right here, right now.”

Your heart was racing, your cheeks bright red. You couldn’t believe this was happening. Warren was still holding your wrist, it sent electric shocks throughout your body. His eyes began to shift from your eyes to your lips and so on. You swallowed; a lump had formed in your throat.

“There’s probably an empty room somewhere,” you mentioned. “You could take me to one of them and show me you mean what you say.”

Warren raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know, you’re pretty drunk.”

“I’m not- I swear. I consent, I’ll remember all of this in the morning,” you replied quickly.

“All right.”

Before you could say anything else, Warren scooped you into his arms and began to carry you through the house. You didn’t know whether to pretend you were drunk so it wouldn’t look suspicious or stay awake to also not make it look suspicious. You chose to stay awake and within minutes you and Warren were alone in a bedroom, your lips connected.

The kiss was fast and rough, everything you expected from him. His arms were wrapped around your waist, he towered over you. You wasted no time, immediately kicking off your shoes and pushing Warren back until he fell onto the bed. He pulled you on top of him, guiding your hips in slow motions over his clothed erection. You felt like you were on fire, you needed more.

You broke this kiss and leaned back so you were straddling him. You pulled off your shirt and bra, Warren followed your actions. Once your eyes fell upon his toned abdomen, you audibly moaned. You quickly leaned down again and kissed his chest, beginning a trail down his body. Each breath that left his mouth made your pussy drip even more. And when you reached his navel, his breaths turned into soft whispers.

“Keep going.”

“Please.”

“I’ll do anything.”

When you no longer had any skin left to kiss you looked back up at him, his eyes were already on you. He got your signal and instantly pulled his shorts and boxers off, leaving him completely naked. You weren’t surprised at his size; you had a feeling he’d be big. You started off by slowly stroking him with your hand, the expressions on his face already enough to make you cum.

After a minute or so of that, you bent down and pressed a small kiss to his tip. You loved the way his leg twitched. It made you proud. So, you took him into your mouth. He gasped, one of his hands finding its way to the back of your head. He didn’t push you; he only twirled your hair back into a ponytail-like style and gripped it tight. You moved your head up and down, taking as much of him in your mouth as you could. You were never a fan of giving head to guys, but with Warren, it was a different story.

Not much time passed before Warren pushed you gently, telling you he wasn’t going to last much longer. You didn’t care, you wanted him to finish in your mouth. But he told you he wanted to have sex, so you stopped. You peeled off your shorts and underwear before you climbed back onto him. His naked body against yours felt unreal, you were almost convinced this was all part of your drunken imagination.

However, when Warren pulled your head down and began to kiss your lips again, you knew it had to be real. His hands gripped your ass, kneading and playing with your skin. You positioned his tip at your entrance, you were so wet you didn’t need any lube. You broke the kiss and looked into his eyes, you wanted to know it was okay. He gave you a nod and so you began to push yourself down on him.

He filled you well, just the perfect amount. You had thrown your head back, a moan escaping your lips. You hadn’t had sex in months, and this was the perfect way to break that streak. You started to move your body forward and backward while simultaneously going up and down. Warren’s grip on your ass tightened with each movement you made.

“Fuck baby,” he moaned. “You do it so well.”

Your confidence was boosted; you began to move faster. This only lasted a few minutes though, much to your dismay. You weren’t too athletic; you didn’t have good stamina. Warren noticed this, and without saying anything he flipped your bodies. Once on top of you, he began violent thrusts. You almost screamed from the pleasure; you’d never felt anything remotely close to it in your life. He hit your cervix each time, it made your back arch off the mattress and your nails dig into his back.

“Warren,” you whimpered. “Oh, fuck Warren.”

One of his hands wrapped around your neck. He didn’t squeeze, he just rested it there. You felt the knot in your stomach form at this. It felt so good to be dominated by him. It had been your dream for weeks, and it had finally come true. You closed your eyes and let the feeling of Warren fucking you fill your senses.

When you came, you practically screamed his name. You swore you could see stars. You’d never experienced an orgasm so hard in your life. Warren came a few seconds after you, you felt his dick pulsing inside you. He collapsed on you. You didn’t care about how his weight crushed you, you still held him as the two of you began to come down from your highs.

~~~

As the crew packs up, you remain in your chair, staring blankly out one of your windows. The interviewer is still across from you, but you don’t notice until he speaks.

“Just tell me one thing, off the record,” he says, grabbing your attention. “Did you love him?”

A small smile grows on your lips. “With all my heart.”

709 notes · View notes

userpedros · 2 years ago

Text

wash your hands || joel miller

joel miller x female reader

summary: you run into dads best friend joel when he comes to pick something up from your fathers. (the shrooms never existed in this and they ate the birthday pancakes and all was good ok)

warnings: 18+ this is smut. age gap (reader is in her late twenties and joel in his mid forties), p in v, creampie, oral seggs, hair pulling, fingering, praise kink, slight cum eating (not really but also yes)

authors note: this has not been beta read or proof read. i haven't written in a long time. this came to mind and it completely spilled out of my head

word count: 5.7k - it's long because i never shut up

Suddenly, there he was. She knew what he was thinking, he knew what she was thinking. It was fair to say they were definitely on the same page. They certainly had been for a while. It was unspoken and only noticeable through small touches here and there, small glances, winks and shifted jeans.

You’d had it bad for you dads’ good friend, Joel for a while now and he had it bad for you. You’d never acted on it and he never did either. But there was a shift in the air that told you things were about to change. The rock that settled in the pit of your stomach and the glance he gave you just now when you walked through the front door was only future indicative of what was to come.

It’d been a few years since you last saw him. You’d been home from college on a break then. You were in your early twenties, and things had changed significantly since you’d last seen him at 19. You’d grown. You weren’t the same girl Joel had watched go off to college when he met your father. Your body shape had changed, your attitude was different; mature but still held an essence of the sunshine you’d had before. Now you were the same girl that came home from that college break back then, but you were even better. Joel didn’t know that it was possible, for someone to age this well within a few years. You were young, but you’d aged so gracefully in the few years since he’d seen you.

Everything was as it had always been for you, but there was something else there. You felt it when you walked through the door. Joel had aged too. You were in your early twenties then the last time you’d seen him, now you were in your mid to late twenties; he was now in his mid-forties, but you had to admit he had aged like fine wine.

The sight of his salt and peppered dark brown hair almost had you drooling. His dark brown eyes had always captured you in a trance. Today was no different.

“Long time no see, Joel.” You smirked as you passed him in the kitchen. Your father and Joel were standing in the kitchen, talking over the island about some job they had just taken. Joel was leaning against the edge of the island, cigarette dangling from his long, calloused fingers. He took a look up at you, angling his head up slightly as he leaned down to ash his cigarette in the tray. Your father stood across the island from him, arms crossed, as one hand pinched the bridge of his nose, while a cigarette dangled in his other hand.

Smoke filled the air, sun light streamed through the window, illuminating the tendrils of smoke that swirled through the air as your eyes connected.

The air immediately felt thick and heavy as you stared back at him, His back straightened slightly as he took in your form.

You were wearing a light blue sundress that tied in the front, showing off a tiny amount of under boob, the tie leaving a little gap underneath it. He looked you up and down, his eyes instantly shifting moods as he removed his cigarette and coughed into his hand, looking away. As usual, Joel was wearing a plaid and pants that were a little too tight on his thick thighs. Simple but the image did the job for you.

He looked down at the floor while you and your father conversed for a moment, talking about your days and making slight small talk about the weather. Joel stood quietly, keeping his gaze trained on the tile as he took in the spots definitely needed to be re-grouted.

You kissed your father on the cheek as you reached onto the counter top, grabbing some mail that had been incorrectly sent to his house.

“Do you boys have any exciting plans for tonight?” You looked over to your father and then to Joel and wiggled your eyebrows playfully.

Your father chuckled a laugh as he straightened a little, putting his cigarette out.

“No big plans tonight doll, was just tryin’ to convince Joel here to stay and hangout out with a couple of buddies. Maybe play some poker and drink a little bit.” He shook his head, lowering it as he continued to chuckle to himself.

Joel took the opportunity to look into your eyes before quickly looking away again. “Doesn’t sound like the old mans got it in ‘em.”

You laughed a little as you stepped back taking a look at your dad, giving him a big smile. “Pot callin’ the kettle black huh, old man.”

You stepped around your father as you headed towards the stairs. Your father laughed at your response as you reached the first step. “And what do you have planned for tonight, sweetheart?” He called out.

“’M not too sure, probably just going to hang out around the house, might go out. Depends on if you boys get too rowdy.” You shrugged and laughed as you locked eyes with Joel once more. The look he gave you sent shivers that raked down your body. You winked as you caught his gaze. For once, he winked back before turning away faster than you could register.

“I’ll catch you old men later!” You laughed as you bounced up the stairs. You reached your old room, smiling to yourself before shutting the door with a blush staining your cheeks.

You were practically running down the stairs. It was 11:49 and you were running dramatically late to a lunch with some of your friends, one that had been planned for months for when you came back into town. You’d been out earlier looking at apartments and houses for rent in the area, causing you to be a bit behind on time.

As you reached the bottom of the steps, you heard the familiar boom of laughter that sent your heart straight to the pit of your stomach. You could see his face already, before it even came into view. It was the one that stayed etched in the back of your mind. The face you saw at night when the door was closed and your hand was under the covers. The face that consumed your every thought lately, ever since you came back into town.

Joel’s smiling face came into view as you reached the bottom step. He turned to look at you, his smile dropping and his eyes becoming a bit more serious. He looked down again and shifted his stance before bringing his eyes back to yours. You tried not to notice how intense his gaze was as you reached the front door.

“I’ll see you later dad! I’m heading out to lunch with some friends!” Your hand reached the door knob as your dad called out for you to stop for a moment. You turned to face him as your hand released the knob.

“Quick question honey. Not actually a question from me but Joel has something he needs to ask you.” He nodded over to Joel as he took a sip from his drink.

As soon as Joel’s name dropped from his mouth, you straightened your back and decided that right then and there you could care less if you were late. You quickly took your phone out and texted your friends letting them know you’d be an extra five minutes late.

As you walked over to your father and Joel, you took notice in the way he was leaning against the counter tops. His arms were straining against the short-sleeved tee he had on, his jeans were hugging his thighs as always. He looked damn good today, the sweat dripping from his grey dusted brown locks made you wish you had a pillow to scream into.

You looked over at your father as he began to dive into something you were only half listening too. Your ears only really began to work as soon as the words, “Joel” and “daughter needs a tutor…” were out of his mouth.

You turned and looked back to Joel as soon as your father finished.

“It’s true, Sarah does need a tutor. You think you’d be available in a day or two?” Joel stood up straight, hope looming in his eyes. He’d never admit that Sarah was doing well enough in class to not need a tutor, he just wanted to get you closer to him in whatever way he could.

“Of course, I’d be happy to help Sarah.” You beamed toward Joel. “Here, let’s exchange numbers so you can text me what class she needs help in, that way I know what to grab. I think I still have my old high school things here somewhere.” You looked up to the ceiling as you tried to think of where you’d stuffed your papers as he took your phone from your hand. He was careful not to actually touch you but as he got closer to you, the air started to electrify.

As soon as he put his number in your phone, you texted him so he’d have your number. You both looked back up at each other in the same second, the air getting heavier. You quickly looked back to your dad as you slid your phone into your purse.

“Alright old folks, I really have to get going. I’m already going to be twenty minutes late.”

Your dad reached over and placed a kiss on your cheek as you waved goodbye to Joel.

“I’ll shoot ya a text tomorrow, Joel!” You called over your shoulder as you headed out the door.

Joel would never admit it but he waited all night for a text. Every time his phone illuminated; he was grabbing it. It was crazy to him to think that one of his best friend’s daughter had him like this, 20 years younger than him no less. It was pretty clear to Joel that you were going to be the death of him, regardless of what the future held.

It was a beautiful afternoon. The sun shone down on your legs causing your body to become incredibly warm as you held a novel close to your face. Your sunglasses had become more of a statement piece then actually protecting your eyes from the sun. The birds were chirping and it was getting to an incredibly intense part in your book.

You were so entranced in the novel that you didn’t hear the loud truck pull up on the curb down the street. You didn’t even notice the slight breeze as your dress lifted slightly on your thigh, showing a little more skin. The one thing that you definitely didn’t hear was Joel walking up the porch steps, because if you had noticed you wouldn’t be talking to the characters in your book, out loud.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” You sighed out as you dramatically dropped your book on the porch floor next to the swing. The dramatic ending of the book caught you completely off guard, but what was standing in front of you was equally just as off putting, if not more. Your breath caught in your throat as you looked up at him.

“Joel. Hi.” You barely got the two words out as you took him in.

He was wearing another tight t-shirt and signature thigh hugging jeans. It was nothing out of the ordinary for him but his shirt was covered in dirt. His jeans were also speckled with dirt spots. Your mouth dried up as you looked up at him. You sat up immediately and smoothed your dress down.

“My dad isn’t here, he just left to meet someone about a job site.” You nervously stepped a bit closer to him, wondering why he was here. Maybe your delusional thoughts about him weren’t as crazy as you’d thought. Maybe he had been flirting with you all those times. Maybe those glances were a little too long, and maybe, just maybe, your revealing dresses did have the effect on him you’d thought they did. But then Joel spoke, sparking disappointment.

“’M aware. He sent me here to grab some tools from your basement. Would you mind lettin’ me in, sweetheart?”

Your cheeks stained a bright red as you nodded, brushing past him to open the front door. You stepped into the foyer and stepped aside as he walked past you. His arm brushed yours as he turned to shut the front door. The electric wave that the brush sent through your skin was intoxicating, and it was over as soon as it started. You were really starting to think you needed to get a grip. You shook it off and turned around, calling over your shoulder to Joel.

“Grab whatever you need, I’m just going to grab a glass of water.”

You heard footsteps reach the basement door and the door close behind you.

It was about 15 minutes later as the basement door shut behind him causing you to jump a little as he headed towards the kitchen.

You’d spent the last 15 minutes waiting for him and trying to cool down with a glass of water and redirect your thoughts to anywhere but Joel. You were trying to think of anything but how incredibly delusional it seemed you had been. You still couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe you weren’t crazy and it wasn’t just you with all of these feelings.

Joel walked into the kitchen, setting the box of tools down on the counter as he walked over to the cabinet with the cups.

“Do ya mind, darlin’? His eyebrows rose as he looked down at you. You nodded and reached to grab the glass for him when you both reached the knob at the same time. The glance you both shared just then was enough to get your blood boiling.

“Here, let me get it.” You said, blushing once more as you filled the cup with ice and water.

The room was silent and still as you turned around to set the glass on the counter near him.

He took a drink, his eyes never leaving yours. Suddenly you were hot again and shifting in your stance and clenching your thighs.

“Hows the apartment search comin’ along? Your dad said you think you found, ‘the one’?” He spoke as he set the glass down, never taking his eyes off yours.

You nodded as you decided to be bold and took a step closer to him. “Yeah, it’s actually really close to you and Sarah. It’s just a small little house but it’s perfect for me.” You smiled up at him as you struggled to breath.

“Glad you found somethin’ good. Seems like a good decision movin’ back here. Your pops really missed you.” He takes another sip as he continues to stare you down. “I mean we all did, weird without you here sunshine.”

You gulp as he starts to speak again, this time the tone shifted and the air changed. You knew that you weren’t making anything up, for once you weren’t delusional. Everything began to make sense.

“Does that mean I won’t get to see you as often?” He stepped closer to you, and you stepped closer to him. “Have to be honest here, I really enjoy seein’ you in those dresses. Your dad isn’t the only reason I continue to stick around.” He smirked as he stepped even closer.

You knew it was time to act and thank fucking god you’d been right this whole time. Age gaps be damned, the heart wants what it wants and all that bullshit right? Age is but a number? Whatever people say. You speak up, setting the tone and praying he’d keep going along with it.

“If I have my address right, I think I might actually be your neighbor.” You took another step closer, the air thick with desire. You stood on your toes so you could whisper the next words out of your mouth into his ear. “Don’t worry Joel. I’ll leave my windows open so you can see me in those dresses whenever your heart desires.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you leaned back a little to see his expression.

“You teasin me, darlin’?” His parted lips were on yours as he spoke his next sentence, his breathing hitting yours. He looked down to where your mouths touched. “’S a dangerous thing to do. I’m not like all the boys your age. I take what I want.”

“Then take it.” You said into his mouth as you looked into his eyes.

When your eyes met, he leaned down and crashed his lips to yours. You kissed him back with full force, tangling your hands in his hair. Pulling slightly as you angle your body into his.

Your mind was reeling as your mouths stayed connected. Joel tapped on your thighs, singling for you to jump. As you jumped into his arms, he spun you around and set you on the counter. As soon as your ass hit the cool counter, you moaned into Joel’s mouth. That only caused him to grip your hips harder.

“Been thinkin’ about this sweet little mouth for a while now.” He said into your mouth before crashing his lips back to yours.

You pulled away to look up at him, your breathing incredibly labored. “I could say the same, Miller.”

The lustful look in his eyes grew as you nodded towards the stairs. “Upstairs. Now.” You managed to say breathlessly.

He didn’t bother to wait to see if you had anything else to say as he grabbed your thighs and lifted you up, attaching his lips to yours once more. As you two made your way to the stairs, you thought you heard someone coming in through the back door. Your mouths detached as you mouthed for him to go into the bathroom directly from the top of the stairs. You clutch onto Joel as he reaches the top stair, taking two long steps before you two enter the bathroom and he is drops you onto the counter.

He quietly shuts the door as he clamps his other hand over your mouth. You both wait to hear who came through the back door, and sure enough it was your father. Joel turns and locks the bathroom door. He turns back to you, leans down and whispers in your ear.

“How quiet can you be, sweetheart?” His Texan accent thick, it was music to your ears.

“’s quiet, Joel.” You mumble against his hand. Just as he goes to remove his hand, the device in his pocket makes a loud vibrating sound. He keeps his hand around your mouth as he uses his other to fish it out of his pocket and pull it out in front of you. You both look down at the text that appears on the screen of the illuminated device.

Did you forget about the tools man?

It was a text from your dad. Joel curses silently as he sends a text back to him, the lie rolling right off his fingertips.

Sorry –forgot to grab ‘em off the counter. Got a call and headed out without thinkin’.

You hear your dad gruff in the kitchen as you both look back up to each other. Just then another text brightens the screen again.

Sure thing – just hope whoever she is, is worth the longer lunch break

You both snapped down to read the text. Your eyes looking back to his as you finish.

“Oh she’s definitely worth it.” He says quietly, looking directly at you. A blush creeps across your face as you two continue to hold eye contact.

As the seconds pass by, his eyes drop back to your mouth.

“You gonna kiss me or what, Miller? You’re growin ol-“ He cuts you off by placing his mouth on yours, the kiss heating up by the second. His fingers grip onto your hip as his phone falls onto the counter behind you. His other hand comes up to rest on your cheek, pulling you even closer. You didn’t think it was possible to this close to someone. If you two were in public kissing like this, it would definitely warrant a call to the police for public indecency. It was down right animalistic. Both of your feelings completely on display. There would be no denying after this that you had it bad for Joel Miller.

“Say old one more time, sweetheart.” He rasped as he pulled back from your mouth. “You sure don’t seem to mind how old I am with my tongue down your throat. Naughty girl. I’m sure your daddy would love to know what I’m about to do to you in his house.”

“And what exactly are you going to do, Joel?” You wink as your head is being tilted back by his hand in your hair. He angles it back further as he goes in to attach his lips to your throat.

“I’m gonna bend you over this counter top, and make you watch as I show ya what you’ve been missin'.’” His lips ghost over your neck as his southern accent thickens, the drawl really coming out. “I don’t think the word ‘old’ will ever come out of your mouth when you talk about me after I’m done with you.”

You moaned quietly as he began to pepper kisses down your throat. His hand moved from your hip to the other side of your face, the other hand falling to your neck. He continued his assault of kisses, moving lower and lower with each peck. He softly moved each of your straps of your dress down off your shoulders as he started to kiss his way back up to your throat. He stopped once more, his landing right in of your ear.

“You think you can handle that, sweet girl? Can you keep up?” His voice was barely above a whisper, his breath lingering on your ear.

You pulled him forward a bit as you whispered into his ear, “I think we should stop talking and get to it, Miller.”

The second the words left your mouth; his mouth was on yours again. You slid your hands down his t-shirt clad chest and stopped as soon as your fingers reached his belt. As you two continued your assault on each other’s mouths, you managed to work his belt through the loop, yanking it away from the button on his jeans.

You heard the door slam below you downstairs, singling your father was still home. You chose to ignore that thought and started to pull at Joels pants.

“Woah there sweetheart,” He said into your mouth as he removed his hands from your face to take your palms into his. “You’re insane if you think I’m not going to have a taste of that sweet little cunt first.”

You made eye contact as he winked and went back to kissing down your throat, stopping just above your breasts before pulling one out of the top of your sundress, slightly moving it to the side.

“Been teasin’ me with these for a while now.” He looked down at your rounded peak before placing his mouth directly onto it.

He licked and sucked, twirling his tongue around the peak. He removed his other hand from yours, placing it onto your hip, grabbing it tightly. He slammed it back into the cabinet, pushing himself completely onto you. There was no room between the two of you now. Joel’s mouth was on your breast, the other gripping your hip. One of your hands was tangled in his hair and the other on the back of his neck, trying to push him further into you. Even if that was even possible.

Without warning he removed his mouth from your chest, a small popping sound filling the air, the cold air of the bathroom hitting your wet breast.

He moved his hand from the counter top and ran it up your now exposed slit, stopping to rub circles onto your clit. You gasped as his calloused thumb rubbed over your most sensitive spot, tugging on his hair even more.

“Such a dirty girl, completely bare underneath that little sundress of yours.” Without warning, he pushed his middle finger into your heat, completely sheathing it inside of you. “Does this mean every time I’ve seen you in those little dresses, you’ve been like this? You’ve just been waiting for me, an old man to just lift up your skirt and fuck you silly, haven’t you sweetheart?”

“Always. Been thinkin’ about this for a while, Joel. Feels right.” You whispered as he shut his eyes and moaned before he pushed a second finger into you. He angled them, hitting just the right spot as he began to lower himself down onto his knees.

Suddenly, without warning he pulled his fingers from you and attached his mouth directly to your pussy. You stifled a groan as you brought your fist that was gripping the counter top to your mouth. You bit down on your flesh as you struggled to keep quiet as Joel licked up and down your slit, stopping at your clit to suck on it lightly before placing his fingers back inside of you, one at a time.

He sucked your sensitive bud while positioning his fingers in and out of you. The wetness that coated his fingers began to drip down his hands slightly, brushing up against your thighs.

His attack on your pussy lasted for several more minutes before he began to moan into you. “Such a sweet, needy little cunt.”

“Joel please –“ You moaned out as his hand moved from your hip to your mouth. It clamped over it, earning a groan from Joel.

“Gotta be quiet, pretty girl. Can’t let your daddy know I’m in his bathroom completely ruining his daughter, can we? What would he say? If he knew that I was tongue deep in his sweet girl’s pussy?”

With the whisper of those words, he was back to his mouth on your slit and his thumb on your clit. As his tongue dove in and out of you, it became impossible to hold back what you knew what was coming. You shut your eyes, looking away from the sweet sight of Joel in between your thighs and groaned as you begun to see stars. The buildup coming was coming fast and just as fast as it was built up, it was torn down as Joel removed himself from where he had been positioned, and stood up. He made eye contact with you as he shoved those fingers that had been inside you, into your mouth. The taste of his saliva and you exploded on your tongue. You groaned onto his fingers as he watched.

His eyebrows furrowed together and he let out a quiet, “fuck,” as he took in your whole form. Your sundress was bunched up around your hips while your hair dangled behind you, completely tangled from having it wrapped around his fist. He grabbed your hair again, and tilted your head back to look you in the eyes.

His words seemed to catch in his throat as he closed his mouth and flipped you over with one fluid motion, your hair still wrapped around his hand. He leaned you back, placing your back to his front. You looked up in the mirror to meet his gaze, the bite of the counter top glazing your skin. The contrast of the cool stone against your hot skin added another element to everything your body was feeling.

Joel hiked your dress up with his free hand as he kept his gaze trained on you in the mirror. He pulled his jeans down, bunching your dress up in his fist.

You watched as he maneuvered his jeans, then his boxers down, pulling out his incredibly thick length. You two continued to have a stare down in the mirror as he reached around putting his hand in front of your mouth.

“Spit.” You spat into his hand as your eyes burned into his. “Good girl.”

That was all Joel said before placing his now slick hand on his length. You watched as he pumped himself a few times before positioning himself at your entrance. He swiped his length up and down your slit, bumping your clit each time. It made your grip on the counter top intensify, Your knuckles were beyond white, your hands were going numb.

“Ready for me to completely ruin you, doll? And all with your daddy downstairs?” He leaned forward, barely whispering. His southern accent incredibly thick, which only added to the slick between your thighs.

You couldn’t even speak let alone form a coherent sentence right now, so you settled for a nod.

With that, Joel pushed inside of you, letting out a low groan as he sank himself deep inside. You had never been with someone this thick before and it was a slight adjustment. He didn’t leave too much time for you to get used to it as he began to slip in and out of you, picking up the pace.

Joel grabbed one of your legs and held it in his hand, moving it off to the side so he could slide even deeper into you. With one of his hands in your hair, the other holding your leg up, you couldn’t keep the moans from falling from your lips.

Joel tilted your head back and leaned forward placing his lips on the base of your neck, leaving light kisses. He never took his eyes off of yours, as you two stared at each other in the mirror. He continued to fuck you into the counter. He moved a hand to your hips and laid his head on your shoulder as he continued to pump in and out of you.

Your breasts were threating to jump out of your dress so you moved a hand, releasing your grip on the stone counter top and pulled the top of your dress down. Joel moaned when he looked up, catching the sight of your breasts bouncing up and down, meeting the timing of his thrusts.

You knew he wasn’t going to be able to last much longer by the way his pace had begun to get sloppy. You weren’t either. He was hitting all the right spots, angling himself deep inside of you. He released his grip on your hip and placed his thumb over your clit once more, attending to the sensitive flesh.

That’s when everything seemed to go dark for you, you began to pant and tried to stifle your moans as you felt your release building.

Then it hit you all at once, Joel released his hand from your hair, bringing it up to your mouth to keep it shut as he began to fuck you harder and faster.

“Gotta fill you up sweet thing. Want to have you drippin’ with me so when you walk downstairs you’re reminded of what a filthy little slut you are for daddy’s best friend.” You groaned into his hand as you came, seeing stars.

You rode out your high as Joel hit his, the feeling of you clenching on him sending him over the edge. Thick ropes of his cum painted your insides. He stayed inside of you for a moment as you both collapsed onto the counter top, taking a second to catch your breaths.

“Holy shit.” Was all you could manage to say as Joel pulled away, resituating himself. He pulled up his jeans and boxers while you watched the entire time.

He leaned forward and used his index finger to push what was leaking of him back inside of you, his eyebrows furrowing the whole time.

“Can’t believe I waited so long for this. Would’ve had this sweet cunt for every meal if I knew how good she’d be.” He whistled as he stuck his dirtied finger into your mouth. You sucked the remnants of you and him off the digit. Your eyes never leave his through the mirror the whole time.

“Better wash your hands now Joel, I think you got a little dirty.” You winked up at him as he helped you stand up and situate yourself. He rolled his eyes as your words sunk in, and he gave you a smack on the ass.

“If I’m the dirty one after that doll, you’re down right filthy.” He whistled as you moved over so he could slide past you.

You both took turns scrubbing your hands, removing the cum and slick from both of your fingertips. After he shut the water off, and dried his hands, he turned to face you.

“Think we might have to do that again sometime, Miller.” You winked and turned around to leave, grabbing the handle first. That’s when you both heard the back door shut below you, indicating that your dad had just left. You both took that as your cue to leave and you both spilled out into the hallway above the steps. The stench of sex leaking from the bathroom.

You both walked down the steps, and reaching the front door at the same time. As you went to open it for Joel, he shut it.

“I’ll see you tonight, right?” He lifted your chin so you could meet his gaze.

You had totally forgot about going to his place to help tutor his daughter, Sarah. You both knew now that once you’d gotten a taste of each other it wasn’t going to be enough. You weren’t sure if it ever would. You were certain you weren’t going to miss that tutoring session for the world.

“Of course, I will be there tonight. I, personally, can’t wait.” You smiled up at him. He seemed to like your answer as he began to open the door, stepping outside slightly. He nodded as he pulled you into his side and kissed your forehead. As you leaned away, he pulled you into him and whispered in your ear before the door shut.

“Can’t wait, sweet girl. Maybe we can have a study session of our own once you two are done.”

And with that, he was out the door and gone. You were left to wonder what the fuck just happened.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader smut #dbf!joel miller x reader #dbf!joel miller

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aquaticlime · 2 months ago

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MET GALA THEMES

I tried to come up with good names for these but some were just too hard. Go ahead and use any of these for your DR, I’d love to see what you do with these ideas as well. I’ll probably make another post detailing which of these I’ve scripted into my Dr to attend and what I wear so stay tuned.

The Lost City of Atlantis

I think this would be so cool! Some people would draw from the Disney movie I’m sure, but imagine everyone’s interpretation of the classic myth.

The Animal Kingdom

A Night of Beastly Beauty. For this I would like to see good use of ethically sourced furs and animal prints. Someone’s gotta be a dinosaur, like please pick unique animals. However if I see someone like Jared Leto dressed in a mascot or furry costume I’m done.

The Dark Side of the Grimm

A Night of Grim Fairy-Tale Villains in Couture. Time for the villains of fairytales to shine. I hope some people would dress as the hero’s if they were turned evil.

The Seven Deadly Sins

This one is the perfect amount of specificity while still being broad enough to let peoples creativity shine through. Inevitably some men are still going to come in a plain black suit but what can you do.

A Night at the Museum

A Timeless Journey Through Fashion and Art. How cool would it be if someone came inspired by Starry night or Monets garden. So many art pieces to choose. There are other types of museums and art to like sculptures or someone could dress like a wax figure. Personally I would like to see the Winged Victory or the Caryatid statues.

Jungle Fever

Another one that deals with animals a bit. Again people better get creative and pick some unique animals. I wanna see a someone (bonus points if it’s a woman) do a Tarzan inspired look though.

Desert Oasis

I don’t know with this one. I guess someone could do an Aladdin look, we already had Tyla do her sands of time dress so I don’t know what else you could do for this one.

Down the Rabbit Hole

A Wonderland Fantasy of Fashion. I just love Alice in wonderland. I would love to see everyone’s outfits. There is so much you could do with this! Zendaya and Lady Gaga would have to be in attendance at this one.

The Literary-Inspired Gala

From Pages to Runway. Another good broad one. It woukd be cool to see everyone’s favorite books, some fairytales some sci fi and maybe even Harry Potter. I could see someone doing a literal book outfit too.

The Neon Nights

Nobody uses bright fun colors anymore, imagine all the black lights and fun glow in the dark paint you could use. Maybe the carpet would be from a bowling alley or mini golf course.

A Carnival of Curiosities

How cool would a carnival or circus Met Gala be!? This is another good one to bring out peoples creativity. Some fun clown inspired looks and the boring people can be a ring leader.

Space Travelers

Galactic Fashion! None of these looks are going to make sense. I have a feeling Doja Cat would be either pretty good for this or just paint herself snot green.

The Wild West

A Night of Cowgirl Chic and Frontier Flair. Pretty self explanatory and quite broad. Someone’s coming as a cactus for sure, and some couple is gonna do Bonnie and Clyde.

The Great Gatsby

Roaring Twenties themed or it could be based off the book as well. People would have to get pretty creative with this one in order to stand out. Give me a man in a flapper inspired outfit.

The Magic of Hollywood

A Tribute to Cinematic Glitz and Glam! Simple enough, you could take inspiration from directors or film companies. Imagine someone going a the Twentieth Century Fox logo or a red carpet.

Creature Feature

Classic Horror film themed! I’m talking Creature from the Black Lagoon, Frankenstein, Dracula, and Nosferatu. I would go as one of the monsters and have my date be the female protagonist of the story.

Terror Awakens

This one is horror themed as well but much broader than classic horror films. You could do books, any movies or simple scary concepts. Please don’t do anything about modern day murderers, I just don’t think that’s tasteful.

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#shiftblr #reality shifting #shifting community #desired reality #shifting blog #shifting motivation #shifting to desired reality #shifting to fame dr #fame desired reality #fame dr #model dr #actor dr #actress dr #singer dr

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runningfrom2am · 9 months ago

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cold nights // part twenty

summary: you showed him colours he knows he can't see with anyone else.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 6.1k (YIKES)

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: guyssss guys guys guys omg :,) also s2 only has two parts left!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

The air is brisk as it surrounds you in the night, chilling you down to the bone, but with a book in your lap and a blanket draped over your shoulders, you don't mind the cold. Not one bit.

You're reading the same page over and over again- Romeo and Juliet. Act two, scene two. Your monologue. You flip the page, and that's all there is.

'Tis but thy name that is my enemy.'

You whisper this, smiling softly to yourself. The grass tickles the undersides of your arms and when you look up, you see the stars. Thousands and thousands of them- more than you could count if you were given a pen and paper and a month to try. It's beautiful.

You lay back into the wild grass, letting it consume you. You can smell it as the long blades brush across your cheeks.

"Y/N?" You freeze at the sound of your name, not that you are really moving. You just hold tight onto the air in your lungs, as if exhaling it could light a beacon to you. Your heartbeat was thrumming in your chest- you were afraid.

"Y/N?" The voice comes again. Coriolanus. He shouldn't be here, he doesn't know where you go at night when you need to end your unfortunate days. Why is he here?

You don't move, eyes wide open as you stare at the sky. Maybe he'll go away, maybe he'll ignore the lantern still burning close enough that you could read under its flame. As if.

"Y/N, you have to go." Now you can hear the grass rustling with every slow step he takes, and he's trying to be quiet. Whispering, as if there was anyone here for miles.

"Go, hide. It's not safe for you out here."

You sit up quickly, scrambling onto your feet. He's close enough now that he's certainly seen you. You get no chance to say anything before you realize you weren't in the field you thought you were. Grass covers the ground of the Capitol arena, and alongside the long green leaves, Coryo's scarf is draping down your side, brushing your legs.

"Coryo?" You say, but you're not looking at him. The compact weighs heavily in the pocket of your dress as you spin around, taking in the dark space. Your lantern flickers out.

"Y/N." He says again, and your eyes snap back to him. His hair is short, buzzed almost down to his scalp like the last time you saw him. "Hide. Now."

"But, I-"

It was too late, and quickened footsteps alerted you to someone else coming.

"Come on, come on!" Coryo grabs you by the wrist quickly, pulling you with him toward the exit glowing red in the night as you abandon your book and blanket.

His hand shifts to hold yours, attempting to force you ahead of himself. You want to look back, but he won't let you. The exit feels miles away. You can't take leave- you don't know why you're running with him. You'll be killed. You'll be killed either way.

You fall through the turnstiles, the mocking automatic voice from the speakers going ignored as you hit the ground. You don't know what you fell onto, you look and there's nothing there, but blood begins to pour from three linear wounds in your leg and a gash on your upper arm.

"Are you okay? Hey, are you okay?" Coryo is in your face now, kneeling in front of you and trying to get you up.

You can't speak, looking past him at the faceless shadow following you. Pushing yourself back against the wall, they glide through the gate and Coryo turns quickly, hands raised. "Wait! Don't! He shouts, but has to duck as they swing something at them.

"Y/N- Run!" He yells at you, but you can't move. You curl up against the wall, burying your face in your knees.

You hear the sharp swing of metal in the air. Once, twice, and you're waiting for an impact that doesn't come until you hear Coryo cry out in pain instead.

You feel the grind of cement next to you as something is lifted from the ground.

"I don't want to hurt you!"

Another swing.

And then a cracking noise, and the turnstile again.

"Enjoy the show!"

You look up then, watching just as the shadow hits the ground across the gate.

"Coryo?" You push yourself up using the wall. He doesn't look back at you, but you can see his shoulders rise and fall with his breaths as he stares at the shadow now sprawled out across the ground.

He swings the club again, the cement block disappearing into the grass with a hard thud.

You don't run.

"Coryo, let's go. Please... let's just go." Your voice comes out small, but he still hears you.

He turns, and you aren't afraid. "Y/N-" He drops the weapon and you take an involuntary step back. You look into his eyes, cleared of the blonde curls he recently buzzed off.

Sky blue. Angry. No- baby blue. Worried.

He's afraid.

"Y/N, wait." He pleads with you, hands clear as he takes a step closer. This time, you let him. "Please don't walk away again."

"What did you say?" You ask, brow furrowed at the familiar statement as you take another step back.

"Please, don't run from me."

When you wake, you feel different. You feel your blood pumping quick through your veins as you stare at the ceiling, the sun peaking in through the curtains like usual, but you feel more sick than scared.

It's a welcome change.

Crawling out of bed, you pull a dress on over your pyjama shorts, deciding that would likely be fine since you didn't plan on leaving the house today. Maybe to go out to the meadow, but with sleep still blurring your vision you weren't ready to make any big decisions like that yet.

You felt guilty about ruining the lake day for everyone. It wasn't a bad panic attack, they did have to jump into action the way they did and try to rush you home, but they had. You can't be upset at them, Lennox and Lucy Gray only wanted to protect you.

You wish Maude Ivory hadn't seen you cry.

The hike back is all you can think about while you make your morning tea.

You watched as Sejanus grabbed Coryo by the arm, pulling him back up and into the cabin and shutting the door behind them.

No one bothered to get you dressed again, the priority just being to get you home. Lucy Gray had helped you get your shoes back on, and Lennox practically lifted you to your feet. You were still shaking, but the tears had lessened and you could breathe again.

"Tam Amber, will you go ask the boys if they remember the way back?" Lucy Gray whispered to her cousin and he nodded, running off the dock.

"You're safe. It's just us here." She reminded you as you watched him hurry away.

"But... But Coryo-" You stammered, suddenly shivering.

"I know, I know, Hun." She wrapped the blanket back around your shoulders. "He's gone. You're okay."

"No, no I-"

You heard Tam Ambers footfalls returning, just as hastily as he had gone. "They remember." He nodded to your friend.

"Okay, will you tell them to wait twenty minutes before following us?" She told him and he nodded again, disappearing once more.

"Lucy Gray, it's, it's okay. I don't think they need to wait." You tried to explain, and she had to lean in to listen to you.

"I know, it's okay." Clearly, she didn't know what you were trying to say. "I promise you they can handle themselves, you don't worry about it." But you weren't worried about them. You wanted them to come.

"E-Every one can master a grief but he that has it." You huff through shaky breaths, frustration at their lack of understanding building in your tone. Why couldn't they see that he was helping you?

Lennox and Lucy Gray look at each other on either side of you, but say nothing.

You looked back at the cabin over your shoulder as your brother and best friend guided you away, the rest of the Covey in tow.

You hadn't seen either of the Capitol boys since.

Coryo walks into Sejanus's room, expecting him to still be sleeping. It's early, the sun just peaking over the mountains, but he's not there. He was out late the night before, so maybe he hadn't come home. He did mention something about possibly staying with Lucy Gray after her show.

They would only be in town for another couple of weeks, he was getting down to the wire of time he had to earn your trust back. He was fucking it up royally, and he wasn't even sure he could go home without any conclusions. He just needed to talk to you, if it was him who was hurting you, and you said the best thing he could do was leave and never look back, he would do it in a heartbeat. He'd never recover, but he'd be willing to do anything to know you were happy. Or at least getting there.

But you hadn't said that. Remembering your conversation at the lake, he didn't feel like all hope was lost. Even if Lucy Gray and Lennox wouldn't let him anywhere near you. He couldn't give up yet.

This is why, in all honesty, he is lucky that Sejanus didn't make it home last night.

He saw his friend writing in a notebook the other day, so he opened the bedside drawer to try and find it. He'll just leave a note saying he's going for a walk, and Sejanus likely won't suspect he's going to go try and talk to you and come stop him. If he even wakes up from his hangover with enough time to find the note and then catch him.

When Coryo opens the drawer, that's not what he finds. Well, it is, and he pulls the pad of paper and pencil out, but his eyes catch on something else. Cash. And lots of it.

He looks over his shoulder at the door before picking it up and picking through it. It must have been in the tens of thousands. Why would Sejanus bring so much money to District Twelve of all places? He wishes he could understand rich kids.

He sits on the bed and opens the notebook, pausing again when he sees some scribbled notes.

'Hob, 10 pm, 08/17

Broken fence, storage shed. 4 am, 08/18

Lennox ?'

Brow furrowed in confusion, Coryo turns the page. Nothing else. No other context clues as to what on earth this could mean. It was meeting places and times. He looks around again as if he could find answers in the walls of the small bedroom.

Nothing.

He quickly shoves the notepad back into the drawer and leaves. Maybe he didn't need to leave a note after all.

Coryo had to move quickly. Collecting yet another peace offering, some kind of treat, and then make it to your house before Sejanus or Lucy Gray can intercept. He does it, but there was still the biggest obstacle yet- your brother. He prays as he knocks that Lennox doesn't open the door.

When there's a knock on the door, you leap from your bench on the back porch, quietly slipping back in the door. You were home alone, only for a few hours while your mom handled some business in town and Lennox went to hang out with some friends. Your mother didn't want to let you, she wanted you to come, but you insisted. You were an adult, you could be home alone for a few hours.

Who on earth would knock on the door right in that window of time?

Sneaking into your parents' bedroom, you peek out of the curtains to try and look at the front door.

No. This is ridiculous.

You force yourself to straighten up, smoothing the front of your dress and taking a deep breath. You're home. You're safe. No one at the door is here to hurt you.

You pace up to the front door just as another quick three knocks ring out. Deep breath. You twist and pull the handle.

"Y/N." Coryo grins, relief washing over him like a wave that only lasts a moment. "Here, these are for you." He holds out a small bouquet of flowers before you get the chance to slam the door in his face.

You can't help the smile that pulls at your lips when you look down at the hand he extends to you.

Butterflies. The very same ones you felt the first time he gifted you a flower.

"Coryo, you don't have to bring me flowers every time you see me." You giggle, and he smiles. The relief is back.

"Well, I'd like to. You deserve nothing less."

You look up through your lashes at him, slightly shaking your head. Your smile doesn't slip as you examine his features, checking his eyes. As blue and clear as the lake you swam in last week. "Would you like to come in?" You offer, unsure of yourself up until the point the words leave your mouth.

"I would love to." Coryo smiles so wide you feel as though your own heart could burst. You're doubting yourself for ever being afraid of him, but as he passes you into the threshold of your home, you remember why. Deep breath.

"You came at a good time." You joke, closing the door behind him and stepping into the kitchen as it's laid out next to the front door.

"Oh?"

"Well, Lennox isn't here to push you down the front steps." You giggle. Maybe you shouldn't be telling him you're home alone. Your heart stops for a beat.

And then he laughs, and everything is okay again as you pull a vase down from atop the fridge, placing it in the sink to rinse off. "That is true." He agrees.

"But, I'll warn you, Tybs is here somewhere. He's always watching." You look at him over your shoulder as you place the flowers down and run the tap into the ceramic vase.

"Noted." Coryo chuckles, looking around his feet to see if the cat had come to say hello.

He watches you as you turn back around to focus on your task. Watching you wash dishes was a privilege he never even considered that he wanted, but now that he had it, he was more certain than ever that he could never let you go.

It was so good to see you have some peace.

"I brought some things for a picnic, I was hoping you could take me to the meadow you told me about. I'd really like to see it." He asks as you dry off the outside of the vase, proceeding to fill it with water.

"I was going to head out there myself, actually. That sounds perfect." He watches your hair move as you nod, popping the flowers into the vase and turning to show him. The smile on your face makes his heart melt. He didn't know that feeling was real.

"How do they look?" You ask, quickly adjusting some.

"Lovely." Coryo grins and your lips pull together, looking back down at the bouquet in your hands.

"Thank you, by the way. I realize I didn't say thank you." You say, carrying the vase out to the living room and he follows while you place it on the coffee table.

"You don't have to." He shakes his head. "To be honest, I didn't even expect you to accept them."

"Oh, would you like them back?" You ask, worried.

That's not what he meant, you were just too sweet. "No, I picked them for you."

"Would you tell me if you did want them back?" You ask, wiping your hands off from stray water on the front of your dress.

"Probably not." He admits with a smile that matches yours, shaking his head. "I suppose you'll just have to trust me."

"Here we are!" You grin, flipping out the quilt you brought from your room for the two of you to sit on.

Coryo looks around. It's a big open field, with trees and hills in the distance. He did imagine it would be beautiful at night like you said, but he never thought that during the day it would be as much of a sight. After years and years of coming to this exact spot, the grass is shorter here. Already conditioned to not grow where this family could come and sit during the days and nights of your childhood- you had built the perfect little spot to lay down a sheet.

You're already sitting down cross-legged on the hand-sewn material when he looks at you again. "Thoughts?" You ask, tipping your head up at him. "You look like you're thinkin'."

"Yeah, yeah. It's beautiful. This isn't what I pictured."

"No?" You ask as he sits down next to you, adjusting on the blanket and placing his bag on the corner.

"No. Nothing like this." He answers. "It's much bigger."

You giggle, looking around. "So you understand what I was missing, then."

"Yeah." He breathes the word out with a slight nod, but he's still staring at you even as he pulls everything out of his bag. Some cookies, and the book.

"So," You start with a smile, and he looks up at you. You look down at the book, your train of thought completely leaving you when you see it. "You brought it..." You mumble, reaching out to touch the cover.

He lifts it to hand it to you, but you quickly pull your hand away as if the book could bite. You look between him and the leather-bound book in his hand, cheeks flushing. "I-I don't, I'm sorry. I don't know why..." You laugh awkwardly, looking instead out to the woods that surround you.

Your trauma had consistently manifested in the strangest of ways. That book had done nothing to hurt you, you knew that, but it did remind you of the nights and days you spent reading it before the games when Coryo was locked away in the hospital. The memory almost makes you sick.

"Don't be." Coryo shakes his head at you. "I get it." He puts it down on the other side of himself, just out of your view. "I just... I know you usually read out here. So I wanted to bring a book too. It's the only one I have here."

You smile nervously and nod. "I'm glad you like it." You look over your shoulder when you hear a soft 'meow' from within the grass. "Someone followed us."

You let out a soft gasp, smiling as your cat emerges from the tall blades next to you. They were only about knee height to you, but they completely swallowed his small form. "Tybs!" You grin, opening your arms to him and he crawls straight into your lap. "Good King of Cats, there you are." You scoop him up, kissing him on his fluffy head.

"Y/N," Coryo says, drawing your attention again. You hum, face still pressed into Tybalt's fur as you hug him. "I... I was hoping we could talk about some things, if you feel safe enough. I know with just me it's scary but there's some things I really need to tell you before I have to leave and no one will let me talk to you, so now feels like my only chance."

"Okay." You nod, lowering Tybs down onto your lap again, holding him close. "But... I just, I don't want you to have to deal with me if I... I don't know, panic. I can't promise you I won't, and it's embarrassing."

"That's okay." He assures you, scanning your face closely even as you avoid his eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you, so if you can't talk about it it's totally okay. I can try my best to say what I need to say without scaring you."

"No, no I... There's stuff I have to say to you too." You confess to him. "I just, it is so frustrating to not be able to talk about anything without feeling like... I can't communicate what I need to say. Or like I'm dying."

Coryo nods, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "I'll be as patient as you need me to be." He promises. "I can't imagine what that's like for you." He adds, almost whispering. You have always expressed yourself so eloquently through words, and in a way, the games, he has taken that from you.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and nod, focussing on petting your cat. You can feel the vibrations of his purring against your body, and that helps already.

"It's hard." You admit quietly. "I still sometimes feel like no one wants to listen to me when I can talk about what happened. It's always the same thing." You shake your head, letting out a slight laugh. "Do you know how many times I've heard 'You're safe now'? Or 'you're home now. It's okay'? Because it's a lot. And I know that. I know they're just trying to help, but... It's more complicated than that."

"There's no guidebook on living with this stuff." Coryo agrees. "That's what your father told me."

"He's right." You mumble. "No one knows what to do, Twelve has never had a Victor before. I'm lucky number one, and it feels like nobody sees me as human anymore. Not even Lucy Gray. Not even my family."

"I do."

You smile sadly at him. "Coryo, I..." You sigh, shaking your head and grounding yourself in feeling Tybalt rub his head against your palm, begging to be pet. "Is this real?"

He furrows his brow slightly with confusion.

"I mean, I don't-" You sigh. "I feel like I am being so daft but Sejanus says he thought you actually cared about me but that was back in the Capitol so I just need you to be honest with me."

"Y/N..." He shakes his head at you, fully in disbelief. "I have never lied to you. I don't think I could even if I wanted to."

"No, not- not like that." You sigh, shaking your head. "I mean, the way you acted. The things you did- I feel like I don't know who you really are."

"You know me. Better than anyone." He assures you, voice soft with sincerity. He doesn't want to be offended, but he'd still like to understand.

"You said... you said you wanted to start over." You say after a moment, looking into his eyes and loosening your grip on your cat as he adjusts the way he's laying over your bare legs. "So... can we?"

Coryo smiles, giving you a quick nod. "My name is Coriolanus Snow." He starts, and he can see how closely you're watching him, a small smile growing on your lips. That's not exactly what you meant, and he knew it. "But you can call me Coryo. That's what my friends call me."

How could he miss the apples of your cheeks turning slightly pink under the sun?

"I was born and raised in the Capitol, and I'm an orphan. My mother died in childbirth, and my sister didn't make it. My father died here, in Twelve. I live with my cousin, Tigris, and our Grandma'am, and my whole life I have been starving." He admits, swallowing as he monitors your reaction closely. Sadness. Empathy. "One time, during the war, I even ate a jar of paste just to stop the pain in my stomach." He smiles as he says it, it's meant to be funny- to try and keep you with him as he speaks.

He raises an eyebrow at you as you can't help but giggle. "I'm sorry, that must have been awful."

"It was certainly... pasty." He chuckles, shaking his head slightly. "But then, the moment I first laid eyes on you and was told you would be my tribute, I knew that everything was going to change."

You think back to the reaping, and how he must have watched. One of many memories that haunted you now doesn't seem all that scary, knowing he was with you even then.

"I was angry, I knew Highbottom was trying to sabotage me- to give me no chance at winning the prize but I didn't know that the universe was just bringing me to you."

"Coriolanus." You grin, tilting your head at him. "It's a pleasure to meet you again."

"Did you know that I was named after a play?" He asks, a teasing smile pulling at his lips knowing that the only reason he knew that was because of you.

"Oh? What's it about?" You humour him, and he chuckles shaking his head at you.

"Well, it's a long story, really, but it's about a man in ancient Rome who gets put in a position of power, and makes some pretty big mistakes." He quotes as much of what he can remember you telling him. "Then the people of the city hated him, and he was cast out because he betrayed people who trusted him."

You don't say anything, hanging on every word of his interpretation.

"And sometimes I feel like it's a fitting name." He continues, voice lowering with seriousness now. "But I don't think I am like him, because I regretted my mistakes the moment I made them. And I think that if he was more like me, and had someone who made him want to be a good man, his story wouldn't have ended too tragically."

You feel the telltale burn of tears brimming your eyes, and Coryo watches you closely. Your breathing is steady, the ghost of a smile still on your lips.

"Are you okay?" He asks quietly, reaching up to push your hair from where a piece is beginning to fall into your eyes. He's careful not to move too quickly, or even to touch your skin.

You nod, briefly drawing your lip in between your teeth while you think. "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet."

Coryo smiles, almost in disbelief. "You forgive me, then?"

"I'm a Victor." You state, although your whisper sucks almost all the confidence out of your voice as you focus on Tybalt purring against your lap. "If I expect forgiveness in return I need to give it, don't I?"

"You don't need forgiveness from anyone." He insists, smile fading. "You didn't do a single thing wrong."

"I think I did." You admit, lip beginning to wobble as you try and remember, looking down at your cat and stroking his back almost obsessively. "I should have gone back for Wovey, I should have stayed with Jessup, and... and I think I killed those boys, Coryo. I haven't told a soul and it's been killing me."

When you look back up at the boy next to you, his heart breaks. You hadn't done anything wrong; you even tried your best to be a pacifist when thrown into the Hunger Games, of all things, and still, you found things to blame yourself for. "Do you remember what I told you?" He asks, very slowly and carefully reaching out to swipe away a tear from your cheek. "That we all do things we aren't proud of to survive. That doesn't make you a wicked person."

"Is it true?" You ask, resisting your gut and it wanting you to lean into his touch. "That... that I killed them?"

"No." He answers. "I did. I gave you the compact."

"But I used it."

"You had no choice." He reminds you. "That was my fault, and I'll take the blame for it but I won't lie and tell you that I regret it."

You take a sharp breath in. His eyes. Look at his eyes.

"I did it to save you, and I would do it again in a heartbeat. I couldn't live with myself if I let you die. You saved my life first, and you could have ran but you didn't." He wouldn't let you beat yourself up about something that was his fault. "You could have saved yourself, but you gave up that chance for me. I couldn't let you die. It would be such a waste for the world to lose a girl like you."

"Coryo... That's not right." You say, shaking your head. The way your face fell made him nervous. "You can't tell me you did it for me. That is not as noble as you feel like it is."

He felt stupid for telling you that, despite its truth. You wouldn't like it, he knew that. "I know, but I don't want to keep anything from you. I have to tell you why I did the things I did, I have to get you to trust me again. I'd speak every thought I'll ever have if that's what it takes."

You take a shaky breath. "What about when you killed Bobbin?" It took you a moment to even get the words to leave your mouth- and he waited all the while. Powder blue. Patient.

"I... okay." Coryo nods to himself. "I was scared, I didn't want to do it. Sejanus was injured, I remember realizing he couldn't walk. I tried to talk to the boy, but he wouldn't listen..." He trails off, not daring to break eye contact with you. "I felt... desperate. I was panicking, and then... powerful. That's the only way I can describe it. That I wasn't helpless anymore, the way I always had been."

His words are terrifying to you, but you can't look away as you tuck Tybalt closer to your chest. He's stopped purring, but he's breathing against you, craning into your touch. It's actively keeping you grounded through your fear.

"Then I looked at you," Coryo continues. "And I thought that I should have let him kill me instead, because maybe that would have hurt you less."

You swallow the anxiety sitting heavy and thick in the back of your throat. If it was you, you would have thought 'Yes. I should die before taking the life of another,' but since it was Coryo, your gut reaction was telling you to say no; to reassure him that he was only protecting himself and it was scary but he had done the right thing. The realization that he outweighed your own morals and the fact that as much as you wanted to say that, you weren't sure you would stick to it yourself now was a sick combination of things to grapple with all at once.

"Stop, please." You say quietly, feeling your heartbeat picking up just behind your ears. You don't even notice when you had looked away, but your eyes are shut tight.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop." Coryo quickly promises. "But I need you to look at me, okay? Can you do that?"

When you don't immediately respond, he takes the calculated risk of rubbing your back. It didn't scare you last time, it almost seemed to help for the brief moment you were able to look at him.

"I'm sorry." You say quickly, voice cracking.

"Don't be." He says softly, feeling how quickly you're breathing with the hand he has so delicately placed on your back.

It almost makes him cry, too, not knowing what to do to help. It was his fault, again, and this time there was no Lucy Gray or Lennox to come running. He looks around anyway as you cling to the cat in your lap. Tybalt. Quickly, he looks down to the book at his side.

"Oh sweet Juliet," He says, no better ideas surfacing on how to help you. He would make a fool out of himself if he must, but he had to try. "Thy beauty has made me effeminate, and in my temper softened... valor's steel." He tries to remember, and prays that he remembered it correctly.

Under his hand he feels you shake, and he tries to catch your eyes again. It takes him a moment to realize that you weren't crying harder- he hadn't made it all worse again. You were laughing.

He grins, chuckling slightly. "There she is, hey, hey... Look at me."

You turn your head, your smile already mostly gone by the time your eyes reach his.

"I don't remember it, can you refresh me?" He asks, trying to give you an adequate distraction.

"That... that scene? Uh-" Your mind is short-circuiting, running a million miles a minute to try and remember more details. What came before, what came after?

"Anything. Any part you want."

"Okay. Okay..." You nod, trying as best you can to take a deep breath. "Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-browed night. Give me my Romeo, and, when I shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night..."

Just like at your interview, Coryo watches your anxiety begin to melt away as you recite every line. Something about it was so calming to you. It forced you to focus on something other than the tightness in your chest and the tremor of your hands.

"Atta girl..." Coryo nods, proud as he keeps rubbing your back. "Are you feeling a little better? Do you want some water?"

"I- I can get it." You nod quickly, reaching for the bag and digging for your water bottle, careful to not disturb the cat on your lap.

"I'm sorry." He says, withdrawing his hand so you can drink in peace. "I hate that the games have done this to you..."

You seal up the bottle again, wiping your lips on your wrist and shaking your head. "No one can come out of that unchanged, but... let's talk about something else, please."

"I just... I hope you know how much I truly care for you. That's real. That will always be real." Coryo promises, allowing you to put the bottle down before taking your hand.

His hands are slightly cold against the one of yours he is holding, and you attribute that to your no doubt increased blood pressure. There's nothing but pure, undiluted honesty in his eyes.

"I read your note." He continues, wanting to explain but you look away quickly, letting out a slight laugh. He's never seen your face so red.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said the things I did. It was foolish and I was feeling so confident knowing that that day very well may have been my last and-"

"It wasn't foolish." Coryo smiles slightly, moving so he can look in your eyes again. "It was sweet, and all this time I have been dying to tell you that I love you. I do." The confession has his heart pounding as if he were the one who is still coming down from a panic attack.

For the first time maybe in your whole life, you were speechless. It didn't feel like all the love stories you had read in books that made your heart flip the way it just had- it was more. It was your story, and no quote felt quite fitting to describe your own feelings. They were all yours.

"Is that... is that okay? I don't want to scare you but-" Coryo doesn't even get the chance to finish before your lips are against his.

You are kissing him. You're real, you're alive, and he is finally getting that second kiss that he never thought he would have. You were still his.

Your cat had long abandoned his post on your lap by the time Coryo processed this and moved his hands up to grasp your cheeks. He's as gentle as he possibly can be, he knows he's being somewhat irrational to imagine you just vanishing from his hold like you had consistently done in his dreams. This wasn't that; your lips against his, your unbelievably soft skin under his hands.

"I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest." You mumble against his lips, having finally found something close enough to express it.

This was real, you were there, and Coriolanus would never let you walk away again.

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gardenschedule · 10 months ago

Text

Quotes about John Lennon’s sexuality

This is just a reference post for convenience, not an analysis (but I’ve added some comments here and there). This is extremely long with a lot of quotes! And where there's smoke there's fire, imo.

John's (internalized) homophobia: Starting with this topic to provide context & contrast to the rest of this post

At the party the boys’ old friend Bob Wooler, the Cavern emcee, made a crack to John about his holiday. John, who’d had plenty to drink, exploded. He leapt on Bob, and by the time he was dragged off Bob had a black eye and badly bruised ribs. I took John home as fast as I could, and Brian drove Bob to the hospital.

I was appalled that John had lashed out again. I’d thought those days were over. But John was still livid, muttering that Bob had called him a queer.

Cynthia Lennon, John

[Bob Wooler had] insinuated that me and Brian had had an affair in Spain. I was out of me mind with drink. You know, when you get down to the point where you want to drink out of all the empty glasses, that drunk. And he was saying, ‘Come on, John, tell me’ – something like that – ‘Tell me about you and Brian, we all know.’ And obviously I must have been frightened of the fag in me to get so angry. You know, when you’re twenty-one, you want to be a man, and all that. If somebody said it now, I wouldn’t give a shit.

John Lennon, John Lennon: For The Record, Peter McCabe and Robert D Schonfeld

“The Beatles’ first national coverage was me beating up Bob Wooler at Paul’s 21st party because he intimated I was homosexual. I must have had a fear that maybe I was homosexual to attack him like that and it’s very complicated reasoning. But I was very drunk and I hit him and I could have really killed somebody then. And that scared me… That was in the Daily Mirror, it was the back page…”

John Lennon, talking about a (one sided) fight he had with Cavern DJ Bob Wooler at Paul’s 21st birthday party in 1963.

Everyone in Liverpool knew that Epstein was gay, and some kid in the audience screamed, ‘John Lennon’s a fucking queer!’ And John – who never wore his glasses on stage – put his guitar down and went into the crowd, shouting, ‘Who said that?’ So this kid says, ‘I fucking did.’ John went after him and BAM, gave him the Liverpool kiss, sticking the nut on him – twice! And the kid went down in a mass of blood, snot and teeth. Then John got back on the stage. ‘Anybody else?’ he asked. Silence. ‘All right then. “Some Other Guy”.’”

Lemmy Kilmister, White Line Fever: The Biography. (2004)

“Victim in 1961 was one of the first British films to deal properly and thoughtfully with the subject. Dirk Bogarde welcomed the opportunity to play the homosexual barrister, and there were some very tense scenes between him and his wife, Sylvia Syms. In one scene, Dirk Bogarde lifts his garage door at the back of the mews to discover that someone has painted graffiti about him on the wall. The Beatles were sitting together at a Cavern lunchtime session and John Lennon, who was talking to Paul and George, was making biting remarks about Victim, which was on at the Odeon. I knew by then that Brian was what he was, and I thought, ‘Well, I am surprised at John, who is 21 and a young man of the world.’ He was making such nasty, puritanical observations, but I never said anything as they didn’t know that I was listening.”

Bob Wooler, c/o Spencer Leigh, The Best of Fellas: The Story of Bob Wooler. (2002)

If somebody is going to manage me, I want to know them inside out. He told me he was a fag.

I like “Honky Tonk Woman” but I think Mick’s a joke, with all that fag dancing, I always did

I think its concept is revolutionary, and I hope it’s for workers and not for tarts and fags.

I don’t know about the “history”; the people who are in control and in power, and the class system and the whole bullshit bourgeoisie is exactly the same, except there is a lot of fag middle class kids with long, long hair walking around London in trendy clothes

I don’t dig that junkie fag scene he lives in; I don’t know whether he lives like that or what.

Casual homophobia in Lennon Remembers (Notable for the increase in homophobic language post-primary scream therapy, here is some interesting speculation about how these two things are related)

The violence that had been building inside John Lennon all night came bursting out the moment he left the studio. It struck so fast and unexpectedly that it stunned May Pang. She recalled that John was walking unsteadily toward the parking lot when suddenly he cast a drunken look over his shoulder at Jesse Ed Davis. Running over to him, Lennon gave Jesse Ed a passionate kiss on the mouth. Not to be outdone, Jesse Ed grabbed John and kissed him back. Lennon screamed, “F****t!” — and knocked Jesse flat on his ass.

The Lives of John Lennon by Albert Goldman (May Pang, describing an incident during the recording of Rock 'n' Roll in 1973: p.564)

It turned into a full-on fight. John was incredibly strong! He got me in some kind of a hold behind my back that I could not get out of, like a full nelson. And he started to kiss me on the mouth! He was laughin’ and kissin’ me on the mouth. I was strugglin’ to git away and I couldn’t git away. Then he stuck his tongue in my mouth. God! So I bit him. Bit him on the tongue. That pissed him off. So he grabbed the marble ashtray that we couldn’t break and banged me on the head. Knocked me cold.

The Lives of John Lennon by Albert Goldman (a direct quote from Jesse Ed Davis about a different night: p. 576-577)

Alternatively, he could be openly supportive:

Why make it sad to be gay? Doing your thing is O.K. Our bodies our own So leave us alone Go play with yourself – today.

A poem submitted for Len Richmond and Gary Noguera's Gay Liberation Handbook, on 30 May 1972

John spreading rumours: John (and Yoko) had a propensity for intentionally spreading rumours about his sexuality, with many people claiming that he found it funny. Multiple people refused to believe his own words about his experiences or willingness with men.

John told me he had had a one-night stand with Brian, on a holiday with him in Spain, when Brian had invited him out, a few days after the birth of Julian in 1963, leaving Cyn alone. I mentioned this brief holiday in the book, but not what John had alleged had taken place. Partly, I didn't really believe it, though John was daft enough to try almost anything once. John was certainly not homosexual, and this boast, or lie, would have given the wrong impression. It was also not fair on Cynthia, his then wife.

Hunter Davies, The Beatles: The Authorised Biography (updated edition, 2010)

John himself said he finally allowed Brian to make love to him “to get it out of the way.” Those who knew John well, who had known him for years, don’t believe it for a moment. John was aggressively heterosexual and had never given a hint that he was anything but.

Tony Bramwell, Magical Mystery Tours: My Life With The Beatles, 2014

John roared with laughter at the rumours that began afterwards. Typically, he encouraged the stories that he and Brian were gay lovers because he thought it was funny and John was one of the world’s great wind-up merchants. He told me afterwards in one of our frankest heart-to-hearts that Brian never seriously did proposition him. He had teased Brian about the young men he kept gazing at and the odd ones who had found their way to his room. Brian had joked to John about the women who hurled themselves at him. ‘If he’d asked me, I probably would have done anything he wanted. I was so much in awe of Brian then I’d have tried a night of vice-versa. But he never wanted me like that. Sure, I took the mickey a bit and pretended to lead him on. But we both knew we were joking.

Alistair Taylor, With The Beatles, 2003

Years later, John finally came clean about what had happened: not to anyone who’d been around at the time, but to the unshockable woman with whom he shared the last decade of his life. He said that one night during the trip, Brian had cast aside shyness and scruples and finally come on to him, but that he’d replied, “If you feel like that, go out and find a hustler.” Afterward, he had deliberately fed Pete Shotton the myth of his brief surrender, so that everyone would believe his power over Brian to be absolute.

Philip Norman, John Lennon: The Life, 2008

The next night Elliot [Mintz] took us out with a friend of his, Sal Mineo, and we all went to a gay cabaret/discotheque. John was oblivious to the gay ambience. He was curious about everyone’s sexuality and liked to gossip about who was sleeping with whom, whether they were gay or straight. John made no judgements about homosexuality but was really curious about who was and who wasn’t gay.

He knew that his appearance at a gay club might start rumors about his own sexuality, and it made him laugh. He told me that there had been rumors about him and his first manager, Brian Epstein, and that he usually didn’t deny them. He liked the fact that people could be titillated by having suspicions about his masculinity. Then I was the one who was laughing. “How could anyone believe a man who likes women as much as you do is gay?” I told him.

May Pang’s Loving John (1983).

Q. Have you ever fucked a guy?

A. Not yet, I thought I’d save it til I was 40, life begins at 40 you know, tho I never noticed it.

Q. It is trendy to be bisexual and you’re usually ‘keeping up with the Jones’, haven’t you ever… there was talk about you and PAUL…

A. Oh, I thought it was about me and Brian Epstein… anyway, I’m saving all the juice for my own version of THE REAL FAB FOUR BEATLES STORY etc.. etc..

John Lennon self interview for Andy Warhol’s Interview Magazine (November 1974).

John: Yes, all your best friends let you know what's going on. I was trying to put it 'round that I was gay, you know-- I thought that would throw them off... dancing at all the gay clubs in Los Angeles, flirting with the boys... but it never got off the ground.

Q: I think I've only heard that lately about Paul.

John: Oh, I've had him, he's no good. [Laughter]

John Lennon, interviewed by Lisa Robinson for Hit Parader: A conversation with John Lennon (December 1975).

“It’s great,” Ono laughs. “I mean, both John and I thought it was good that people think we were bisexual, or homosexual.” She laughs again.

“Uh, well, the story I was told was a very explicit story, and from that I think they didn’t have it [sex],” Ono tells me. “But they went to Spain, and when they came back, tons of reporters were asking, ‘Did you do it, did you do it?’ So he said, ‘I did it.’ Isn’t that amazing? But of course he would say that. I’m sure Brian Epstein made a move, yeah.”

And Lennon said no to Epstein?

“He just didn’t want to do it, I think.”

Yoko Ono: I Still Fear John’s Killer by Tim Teeman for the Daily Beast (13 October 2015).

Over dinner the Wenners learned the secrets of the Beatles kingdom from Ono, who would often suggest to Wenner that John Lennon was gay. “She’s always hinted that there was some gay component to John,” said Wenner, “but in a vague or generalized way, like, ‘Isn’t everybody gay?’ Or, ‘I always told John he was gay.’ ” (She also told McCartney this theory after Lennon died, which he didn’t believe.)”

Joe Hagan, Sticky Fingers: The Life and Times of Jann Wenner & Rolling Stone Magazine. (2017)

On the other hand, he supposedly hated the rumours:

Claims have been made since that Brian and John had a gay relationship. Nothing could be further from the truth. John was a hundred per cent heterosexual and, like most lads at that time, horrified by the idea of homosexuality.

It was a holiday John came to regret because it sparked off a string of rumours about his relationship with Brian. He had to put up with sly digs, winks and innuendo that he was secretly gay. It infuriated him: all he'd wanted was a break with a friend, but it was turned into so much more.

Cynthia Lennon, John, 2005

And I just went on holiday. I watched Brian picking up the boys. I like playing a bit faggy, all that. It was enjoyable, but there were big rumours in Liverpool, it was terrible. Very embarrassing. Rumors about you and Brian? Oh, fuck knows—yes, yes. I was pretty close to Brian because if somebody's going to manage me, I want to know them inside out.

John Lennon, Jann S. Wenner, Lennon Remembers, 1970

Unfortunately, certain Liverpool acquaintances (who had no way of knowing that there was a kernel of truth to their allegations) wouldn't let John hear the end of it. All in good fun, no doubt, but John was still too enamored of his macho self-image to take lightly any inference that he was anything less than 100 percent heterosexual.

The Beatles, Lennon, and me - Pete Shotton

John's comments about his sexuality:

It’s just handy to fuck your best friend. That’s what it is. And once I resolved the fact that it was a woman as well, it’s all right. We go through the trauma of life and death every day so it’s not so much of a worry about what sex we are anymore.

John Lennon, interview w/ Jonathan Cott for Rolling Stone: Yoko Ono and her sixteen-track voice. (March 18th, 1971)

I just realized that [Yoko] knew everything I knew, and more, probably, and it was coming out of a woman’s head. It just sort of bowled me over, you know? And it was like finding gold or something. To find somebody that you can go and get pissed with, and have exactly the same relationship as any mate in Liverpool you’d ever had, but also you could go to bed with him, and it could stroke your head when you felt tired, or sick, or depressed. It could also be Mother. And obviously, that’s what the male-female – you know, you could take those roles with each other.

John Lennon, interview w/ Peter McCabe and Robert D. Schonfeld c/o Peter McCabe and Robert D. Schonfeld, John Lennon: For The Record. (September 5th, 1971)

It’s a plus, it’s not a minus. The plus is that your best friend, also, can hold you without… I mean, I’m not a homosexual, or we could have had a homosexual relationship and maybe that would have satisfied it, with working with other male artists. [faltering] An artist – it’s more – it’s much better to be working with another artist of the same energy, and that’s why there’s always been Beatles or Marx Brothers or men, together. Because it’s alright for them to work together or whatever it is. It’s the same except that we sleep together, you know? I mean, not counting love and all the things on the side, just as a working relationship with her, it has all the benefits of working with another male artist and all the joint inspiration, and then we can hold hands too, right?

John Lennon, interview w/ Sandra Shevey. (Mid-June?, 1972)

I was on holiday with Brian Epstein in Spain, where the rumours went around that he and I were having a love affair. Well, it was almost a love affair, but not quite. It was never consummated. But it was a pretty intense relationship. It was my first experience with a homosexual that I was conscious was homosexual. He had admitted it to me. We had this holiday together because Cyn was pregnant, and I went to Spain and there were lots of funny stories. We used to sit in a cafe in Torremolinos looking at all the boys and I’d say, ‘Do you like that one, do you like this one?’ I was rather enjoying the experience, thinking like a writer all the time: I am experiencing this, you know.

John Lennon, Rolling Stone, 1980

I was thinking, if only I could get out of Liverpool, be famous and rich, that would be great. I’ve always wanted to be a famous artist, you know? Possibly I’d have to marry a very rich old lady… or man, you know… to… to look after me while I did my art. But then Rock & Roll came and I thought ‘Ah, this is the one’, so I didn’t have to marry anybody or live with them, you know?

John Lennon interview

There was even some discussion, albeit not very serious, of whether he should stick to his own gender. “John said ‘It would hurt you like crazy if I made it with a girl. With a guy, maybe you wouldn’t be hurt, because that’s not competition. But I can’t make it with a guy because I love women too much, and I’d have to fall in love with the guy and I don’t think I can.’”

John Lennon: The Life

I look at early pictures of meself, and I was torn between being Marlon Brando and being the sensitive poet – the Oscar Wilde part of me with the velvet, feminine side. I was always torn between the two, mainly opting for the macho side, because if you showed the other side, you were dead.

John Lennon, December 5th, 1980

“John believed in my work as an artist wasn’t accepted in part because I am a woman. He got angry when people said about me, “She’s not a woman, she’s a female impersonator.” John said to me, “If I had been gay and gotten together with a guy who was talented like you, after ten years that guy would have become famous as an artist in his own right. Maybe we should come out and say, ‘Actually, Yoko is a guy.’ Maybe that will do it!”

Yoko Ono, interview w/ Jon Wiener, c/o Jon Wiener, Come Together: John Lennon In His Time. (1984)

In this intense, intimate and revealing original cassette recording of a private conversation in 1969 between John Lennon and Yoko Ono, the couple speaks primarily about Yoko’s past relationships, her music and art, and their random views on sex, love, promiscuity, and homosexuality. […] [Lennon] adds that he had never met an attractive woman that had sexually aroused him to any great degree.

Description of the 45-minute audiotape auctioned in 2009 by Alexander Autographs.

Yoko's comments about his sexuality:

“Well, that’s another thing. John and I had a big talk about it, saying, basically, all of us must be bisexual. And we were sort of in a situation of thinking that we’re not [bisexual] because of society. So we are hiding the other side of ourselves, which is less acceptable. But I don’t have a strong sexual desire towards another woman.”

Did Lennon have sex with other men?

“I think he had a desire to, but I think he was too inhibited,” says Ono.

“No, not inhibited. He said, ‘I don’t mind if there’s an incredibly attractive guy.’ It’s very difficult: They would have to be not just physically attractive, but mentally very advanced too. And you can’t find people like that.”

So did Lennon ever have sex with men?

“No, I don’t think so,” says Ono. “The beginning of the year he was killed, he said to me, ‘I could have done it, but I can’t because I just never found somebody that was that attractive.’ Both John and I were into attractiveness—you know—beauty.”

Yoko Ono: I Still Fear John’s Killer by Tim Teeman for the Daily Beast (13 October 2015).

"As mild and oblique as the comment was [Paul's "You took your lucky break and broke it in two" line from "Too Many People"], it seemed to cut John to the heart. On top of the questionnaire inside theMcCartney album and the lawsuit, it was like the tipping point between a divorcing couple that turns love into savage, no-holds-barred hostility. Indeed, John's wounded anger was more that of an ex-spouse than ex-colleague, reinforcing a suspicion already in Yoko's mind that his feelings for Paul had been far more intense than the world at large ever guessed. From chance remarks he had made, she gathered there had even been a moment where - on the principle that bohemians should try everything - he had contemplated an affair with Paul, but had been deterred by Paul's immovable heterosexuality. Nor, apparently, was Yoko the only one to have picked up on this. Around Apple, in her hearing, Paul would sometimes be called John's princess. She had also once heard a rehearsal tape with John's voice calling out "Paul ... Paul ... " in a strangely subservient, pleading way. "I knew there was something going on there," she remembers. "From his point of view, not from Paul's. And he was so angry at Paul, I couldn't help wondering what it was really about.""

Philip Norman, John Lennon: The Life, 2008

I’m sure that if he had been a woman or something, he would have been a great threat, because there’s something definitely very strong with me, John, and Paul.

Yoko Ono, Revolution Tape, June 4th 1968

Friends & acquaintances comments on his sexuality:

I realised I was probably bisexual; there was nothing to be ashamed of in this – John Lennon had reputedly spoken to mutual friends of his own experiments.

Who I Am: A Memoir, Pete Townshend 2012

PAUL: There were lots of people asking cheeky questions, and they were always saying, “Well, why–have you ever tried homosexuality, John?” You know, they always used to ask all that kind of stuff. I remember John saying to them, “No, I’ve never met a fella I fancy enough.” And that was his kind of opinion. You know, “I may go–I may be gay one day, if some fella really turns me on.” He was–he was that open about it. But as far as I was concerned, I slept in a million hotel rooms–as we all did–slept in a million places with John, and there was never any hint of it.

December 24th, 1983: interview with DJ Roger Scott

“And you, Icke?” asked Paul. “Who’s your favourite author?” “Henry Miller. I think he’s very good,” I said. In that moment John suddenly looked over at me. Until then he had been watching Bettina, the bar lady, rinsing glasses and tidying up the bar, with his typical somewhat blasé expression. Our discussion hadn’t seemed to interest him much. Now he was looking directly into my eyes. Quietly and without taking his eyes off me, he walked around the whole counter over to me, planted a kiss on my mouth and went back to his spot. At first, I was quite surprised and didn’t know what to do about it, then I found it rather funny and thought little of it. A few days later, it happened again. I happened upon* him in the hallway behind the stage and again he took my hand and kissed me. At some point the thought occurred to me, “man, he thinks I’m gay, but I can’t help him with that.” What was really going on, I don’t know. Maybe he meant the kisses as overtures; he was even treated as a closet case by homosexuals.

Hans-Walther (Icke) Braun (a friend of the Beatles in Hamburg)

"What happened," John explained, "is that Eppy just kept on and on at me. Until one night I finally just pulled me trousers down and said to him: 'Oh, for Christ's sake, Brian, just stick it up me fucking arse then.' "And he said to me, 'Actually, John, I don't do that kind of thing. That's not what I like to do.' "'Well,' I said, 'what is it you want to do, then?' "And he said, 'I'd really just like to touch you, John.' "And so I let him toss me off." And that was that. End of story. "That's all, John?" I said. "Well, so what? What's the big fucking deal, then?" "Yeah, so fucking what! The poor bastard. He's having a fucking hard enough time anyway." This was in reference to the "butch" dockers who, on several recent occasions, had rewarded Brian's advances by beating him to a bloody pulp. "So what harm did it do, then, Pete, for fuck's sake?" John asked rhetorically. "No harm at all. The poor fucking bastard, he can't help the way he is." "No need to get so worked up," I said. "You know I don't give a shit. What's a fucking wank between friends anyway?"

Pete Shotton, Nicholas Schaffner, John Lennon: In My Life, 1983

I think he was trying to find himself a… what he’d call a soulmate. Someone who had as mad ideas as he had. I think he felt that she had the talent… but that’s debatable. But he needed that— he didn’t need a ‘mumsie’ partner at that point. He needed a mate. And I think he actually said, at some stage, in an interview that, you know— She’s the nearest thing to a man — a mate; man — that he’s ever had in a woman.

Cynthia Lennon, interviewed by Alex Belfield for BBC Radio (2006).

Paul wrote to me from the Star Club in Hamburg once, a great letter, it even had doodles on the front of it, but it was stolen. He said that in one of the clubs one night John Lennon ended up with a stunning, exotic-looking woman—only to discover on closer inspection that she was a he, which all the other Beatles found hilarious.

Sue Johnston (actress), The Mirror. (August 23rd, 2011)

Though raised amid the same homophobia as his companions, John seemed totally unshocked by St Pauli’s abundant drag scene; indeed, he often seemed actively to seek it out. ‘There was one particular club he used to like,’ Tony Sheridan remembers, ‘full of these big guys with hairy hands, deep voices—and breasts. But they used to make an effort to talk English. There was something about the place that seemed to make John feel at home.’

In John Lennon: The Life by Philip Norman (2008).

“We’d read all these things about leather and we didn’t have any leather but I had my oilskins and we had some polythene bags from somewhere. We all dressed up in them and wore them in bed. John stayed the night with us in the same bed. I don’t think anything very exciting happened and we all wondered what the fun was in being ‘kinky’. It was probably more my idea than John’s.”

Royston Ellis

In the same book Pauline speculates, sensationally, that John and her brother had a homosexual relationship. ‘I have known in my heart for many years that Stuart and John had a sexual relationship,’ she writes, though she fails to provide any firm evidence. Pauline wonders whether this ‘relationship’ was the real cause of the antagonism between Paul and Stu.

Fab, An Intimate Life of Paul McCartney

Journalist & author comments on his sexuality:

“No, he wasn’t sexually attracted to Paul. Paul was very very pretty, but he actually wasn’t someone who made gay men fancy him. John was much more likely to make a gay man like Brian Epstein because John seemed so straight, there was nothing sort of girly about John at all. But John wanted to be, in his mind, a real artist, that is someone who painted and did sculpture. And he thought that a real artist or he called it a bohemian, should be open to all experiences. He should perhaps have a homosexual experience. Who was around? Paul was around. They used to share beds you know, in these cheap hotels when they would go around with the Beatles. There was never any question of Paul ever reciprocating such a thing, it was merely a thought that according to Yoko had flitted across John’s mind. Now John could use sexuality, I mean he did somewhat play on the fact that Brian Epstein, the Beatles manager, was in love with him you know, but it was just a game really with John.”

Philip Norman interview

"Yet even [John's resentment over Paul announcing the breakup first] does not explain his later remark to Yoko that no one had ever hurt him the way Paul hurt him. It almost suggests that, deep beneath the schoolboy friendship and the complementary musical brilliance, lay some streak of homosexual adoration that John himself never realised. He might have longed to get away from Paul, but he could never quite get over him."

Philip Norman, Shout!, 1981

And any mention of Paul brought a wintry bleakness to her face. 'John always used to say,' [Yoko] told me at one point, 'that no one ever hurt him the way Paul hurt him.' The words suggested a far deeper emotional attachment between the two than the world had ever suspected---they were like those of a spurned lover---and I naturally included them in my account of my visit for the Sunday Times. After it appeared, I returned to my London flat one evening to be told by my then girlfriend, ‘Paul, phoned you.’ She said he wanted to know what Yoko had meant and that he’d seemed upset rather than angry.

Paul McCartney: The Life - Philip Norman.

“If you had a choice, Eppy,” John said, “if you could press a button and be hetero, would you do it?” Brian thought for a moment. “Strangely, no,” he said. A little later a peculiar game developed. John would point out some passing man to Brian, and Brian would explain to him what it was about the fellow that he found attractive or unattractive. “I was rather enjoying the experience,” John said, “thinking like a writer all the time: I am experiencing this.” And still later, back in their hotel suite, drunk and sleepy from the sweet Spanish wine, Brian and John undressed in silence. “It’s okay, Eppy,” John said, and lay down on his bed. Brian would have liked to have hugged him, but he was afraid. Instead, John lay there, tentative and still, and Brian fulfilled the fantasies he was so sure would bring him contentment, only to awake the next morning as hollow as before.

Peter Brown, The Love You Make, 1983

“[John and Janov] talked…about Brian Epstein…‘He knew Brian had adored him, and there was a lot of guilt there about the way he'd depended on Brian yet mistreated him,’ Janov recalls. They talked about John's notorious Spanish holiday with Brian in 1963 and the (to John) insignificant physical encounter that had resulted. The more Janov heard about Brian, the more he longed to have had him as a patient. ‘God, that was a tragic story. There was someone who needed therapy even more than John did.’”

Phillip Normans book, John Lennon: The Life.

Whilst the Beatles had always been marketed as a heterosexual group - in contrast with the Stones, whose image was androgynous - they were sympathetic to the homosexual population. Lennon himself was alleged to have had affairs with both men and women, and although he never openly admitted it to me, his condemnation of Britain as a land which feeds on a homosexual subsculture persuades me at this late stage that he was speaking from experience. I am sure that the break-up of the Beatles, or, more specifically, of John and Paul, must have been more traumatic than any of us suspect.

Sandra Shevey, The Other Side of Lennon

‘OK: John Reid said that when we were in Boston with Elton and John in 1974, he couldn’t resist asking John whether the rumours about him and Epstein were true. This was in response to John having said to John Reid, “You’re the most intimidating man I’ve met since Brian Epstein.” And so John Reid, never knowingly one to miss an opportunity, said, “Did you ever have sex with Brian?” And John said, “Twice. Once to see what it was like, and once to make sure I didn’t like it.” ‘All these years, by the way, I have not wanted to be the guy who declared, “John Lennon and Brian Epstein had sex.” You can appreciate how I feel about this. Do we want the historical record to be accurate, or does John have a right to privacy? And would it upset Cynthia [by now deceased], or Julian? I don’t mind about Yoko, she’d probably think it was a great idea. Bisexuality, wooh.’ ‘Simon Napier-Bell said that both Epstein and John told him they did it in Spain,’ I said. ‘Ah, I’m not the only one. Good,’ replied Paul.

...

But then there were John’s liaisons with David Bowie, which David himself told me about. According to him, it happened on several occasions. He didn’t go into detail, nor did I press him, but he was perfectly open about it. About Mick Jagger, too, I told Paul. ‘Huh. I feel sort of left out,’ said Paul.

Paul Gambaccini, Lesley-Ann Jones - The Search for John Lennon

"That Bowie worshipped Lennon was no secret…They'd met in Los Angeles, [Bowie] told me, during John's Lost Weekend…The crazy pair went out to play, according to David, when John was on yet another break from May [Pang] and far away from Yoko. They gender bendered about, John indulging again that 'inner fag' of his… They later 'hooked up': 'There was a whore in the middle, and it wasn't either of us,' David smirked. 'At some point in the proceedings, she left. I think it was a she. Not that we minded.' By the time they made it back to New York, the ambisextrous pair were 'lifelong friends!"

Lesley-Ann Jones - The Search for John Lennon

Marriage, Divorce & replacing Paul with Yoko:

"I used my resentment and withdrawing from Paul and the Beatles and the relationship with Paul to write 'How Do You Sleep?'

John (Source: Bill Harry, The John Lennon Encyclopedia, 2001)

JOHN: In a marriage, or a love affair – when the seven-year-itch or the twelve-year (note: there is no such thing as the twelve year itch but guess how long J&P were together) or whatever these things that you have to go through – there comes a point where the marriage collapses because they can’t face that reality, and they go seeking what they thought they should be having, still, somewhere else. I get a new girl, it’ll all be like that again; I get a new boy… But for all marriages, all couples, it’ll all be the same again. But what you lose is what you put into that… relationship.

September, 1980

There seem to be certain cycles that relationships go through. And the critical points are at different parts of the different cycles, different points on the – if there’s a straight line, there are different points, you know? And the bit, the new way of talking is like, “Well, why have a relationship? We can just stop and get another one.” But the karmic joke about that is, that any new relationship, presuming you’re lucky enough to find a new relationship anywhere near the relationship that you’re giving up – or exchanging, or walking away from, or have destroyed by inattention or inadvertent or selfishness or whatever it is – that you have to go through the same thing again anyway. You reach the same point.

John Lennon, interview w/ David Sheff for Playboy. (September, 1980)

"I'd like to thank Elton and the boys for having me on tonight. We tried to think of a number to finish off with so I can get out of here and be sick, and we thought we'd do a number of an old estranged fiancé of mine called Paul."

John, introducing "I Saw Her Standing There" at the Thanksgiving show at Madison Square Garden in 1974

You know, John loved Paul. No doubt about it. I remember once he said to me, “I’m the only person who’s allowed to say things like that about Paul. I don’t like it when other people do.” He didn’t like if other people said nasty things about Paul. And he always referred to Paul as his estranged fiancé and things like that, like he did on that [live] record ‘I Saw Her Standing There’ with Elton in Madison Square Garden.

1990: Former Beatles publicist Tony King

TRYNKA: When The Beatles split, did you feel relief? YOKO: No. I always thought, “John won’t be doing this thing with The Beatles and eventually I can do my work too.” That was my plan. But suddenly he’s saying, “I burned my bridge with them, so now it’s you, okay?” I thought, “My God, he was getting the thrill of working with three very strong individuals, and now I have to take all that brunt.” He did put it that way; he was “riding on the boat called Paul, and now I’m going to ride on a boat called Yoko.”

Yoko Ono, interview w/ Paul Trynka for MOJO. (May, 2003)

“. . . I mean, I think really what it was, really all that happened was that John fell in love. With Yoko. And so, with such a powerful alliance like that, it was difficult for him to still be seeing me. It was as if I was another girlfriend, almost. Our relationship was a strong relationship. And if he was to start a new relationship, he had to put this other one away. And I understood that. I mean, I couldn’t stand in the way of someone who’d fallen in love. You can’t say, “Who’s this?” You can’t really do that. If I was a girl, maybe I could go out and… But you know I mean in this case I just sort of said, right – I mean, I didn’t say anything, but I could see that was the way it was going to go, and that Yoko would be very sort of powerful for him. So um, we all had to get out the way.”

Paul McCartney, interview with German tv program Exclusiv, April 1985.

BARROW: She was a very strong influence on John, and may well have been telling him that he could do best on his own, but I still think that on the back of John’s mind would be this sort of fascination with wanting to get back with the first girlfriend, if you’d like [laughs], and it was to get back with Paul that he had so much history with.

Tony Barrow, The Beatles’ press officer

"[Paul] said it was written about Julian. He knew I was splitting with Cyn and leaving Julian then. He was driving to see Julian to say hello. He had been like an uncle. And he came up with 'Hey Jude.' But I always heard it as a song to me. Now I'm sounding like one of those fans reading things into it...Think about it: Yoko had just come into the picture. He is saying 'Hey, Jude' - 'Hey, John.' Subconsciously, he was saying, 'Go ahead, leave me.' On a conscious level, he didn't want me to go ahead. The angel in him was saying 'Bless you.' The Devil in him didn't like it at all, because he didn't want to lose his partner."

John (Source: Playboy, 1980)

SALEWICZ: Well, I always found it interesting the fact that he got – I mean, it seemed too much like coincidence to me, the fact that he got married a week or month after you. You know what I mean? PAUL: Yeah. I think we spurred each other into marriage. I mean, you know. They were very strong together, which left me out of the picture. So I got together with Linda and then we got strong with our own kind of thing. And I used to listen to a lot of what they said. I remember him saying to me, “You’ve got to work at marriage,” which is something I still remember as a bit of advice. I still remember that. Um… And then yeah, I think they were a little bit peeved that we got married first. Probably. In a little way, you know, just minor jealousies. And so they got married. I don’t know if that’s – I mean, who knows… [inaudible] making it up, anyway.

September, 1986 (MPL Communications, London): journalist Chris Salewicz

“If you look at interviews and stuff with John, from around about that time he was in Imagine [documentary] he kind of admits that he’s having problems with himself. So, well, the first thing you do when you’re having problems with yourself is you bitch about someone else. And the closest person was me…He had a real go at me. I personally think it was ‘cause he was trying to clear the decks for Yoko. He’s got a new love, he’s trying to say to her, “Look, baby, I love you. I hate those guys.”

Paul McCartney

"The line [the walrus was Paul] was put in partly because I was feeling guilty because I was with Yoko and I was leaving Paul. It's a very perverse way of saying to Paul: 'here, have this crumb, this illusion, this stroke - because I'm leaving.'" -John

Playboy, 1980

JOHN: And throwing in the line “the Walrus was Paul” just to confuse everybody a bit more. And because I felt slightly guilty because I’d got Yoko, and he’d got nothing, and I was gonna quit. [laughs; bleak] And so I thought ‘Walrus’ has now become [in] meaning, “I am the one.” It didn’t mean that in the song, originally. It just meant I’m the – it could have been I’m the – “I’m The Fox Terrier,” you know. I mean, it’s just a bit of poetry.

August, 1980: John talks to Playboy writer David Sheff about ‘Glass Onion’.

"I started thinking, 'Well, if that's the case [not getting back together], I had better get myself together. I just can't let John control the situation and dump us as if we're the jilted girlfriends.'"

The Beatles, Anthology, 1995

“After we’d done the One To One concert film,” recalled Steve Gebhardt, “I remember John saying to me that the days of everything being Johnandyoko – one word – were over. I was shocked.” Ono completed her record, Approximately Infinite Universe, which was greeted more positively than her previous releases. Lennon did his best to publicise it, writing a personal note to the Capitol Records boss asking him to throw the company’s weight behind it. But in mid-January 1973 Lennon and Ono quarrelled publicly at another party. “I wish I was back with Paul,” Lennon reportedly said.

Peter Doggett, You Never Give Me Your Money: The Battle for the Soul of The Beatles. (2009)

YOKO: I think that it’s like [John] was married to Paul, and now he was married to me… So it was a situation that he didn’t feel like he wanted to go back, really. John had a lot of respect for Paul, and of course, love. But I would think that if the truth may be told, the love was lost on both ways. There were times that Paul did say a lot of strange things about John, so that I know that it wasn’t like Paul loved John but John didn’t love Paul, or John actually loved Paul but Paul didn’t. I mean, it was like a very healthy situation where they outgrew each other’s company. And only until John became what he is now – which is after John’s death that people started to revere John – it became an issue for Paul. Because you have to understand that table was turned many times. One, when John made the Jesus Christ remark, and Paul became virtually a leader. And John turned the table on Paul by becoming a partner with me, probably. But then the thing is, the table was turned again by Paul becoming extremely successful with Wings. So he was doing alright, while John did Some Time in New York City with me, and then followed that with Mind Games or something, you know. 1990: Yoko

“They loved each other more than most couples do, and when they split it was more wrenching than most divorces”

Beatles publicist Tony Barrow on Lennon and McCartney

““I’m sure that in the case of Paul there’s that feeling that I’m the woman who took away his partner – it’s like a divorce.””

Yoko Ono (You Never Give Me Your Money, Peter Doggett)

“On March 12, Paul married Linda Eastman at Marylebone Register Office in London, amid scenes of hysterical grief from his female fans. None of the other Beatles was present. The news reached John as he and Yoko were driving down to visit Aunt Mimi in Poole. Yoko’s divorce decree had become final a few weeks earlier, and, in a resurgence of Beatle copycat, John told her they, too, must get married as soon as possible”

Philip Norman, John Lennon: The life

“Then also we were like married, so you got the bitterness. It’s not a woman scorned this time, it’s two men scorned — probably even worse. And I had to make way for Yoko. My relationship with John could not have remained as it was and Yoko feel secure.”

Paul McCartney, Interview by Duncan Fallowell in the Chicago Tribune, October 14th, 1984

Knowing John so well, I believe that the only reason he picked Yoko was [he wanted] a negative reaction. I mean, it was purely a negative reaction because he couldn’t take any more girls in the world, actually. I mean, he knew that he could have any girl. And the girls, that were nice-looking—he couldn’t stand them. I mean, from morning to night, there were girls not boys—actually, running after them. We used to go to his house and think that we are in peace. Suddenly a girl with a broken leg is jumping over John’s fence to, to get an autograph. It was a pain in the neck. John wanted to be with a woman. But he needed as well very, very much a friend. He needed a male friend. And my opinion is that Yoko, he managed somehow to combine both. He had a fear for pretty women running after him. Yoko was not very pretty, uh, at all, and he replaced a male in his life plus a female.

Magic Alex, All You Need Is Love – Peter Brown & Steven Gaines

Jealousy regarding Paul Mccartney: I wouldn't consider any of this especially convincing on it's own, however John's consistent dislike for and rudeness towards Paul's partners is notable

I was a very possessive and jealous guy, and the lyrics explain that pretty clearly. Not just jealous towards Yoko, but towards everything, male and female – incredibly possessive.

1970 (audio snippet approx 2:06)

In an entry noting McCartney’s marriage to Linda Eastman, Lennon crossed out “wedding” and wrote “funeral”, the Observer said.

Associated Press: Lennon’s resentment of McCartney reflected in book notes. (July 20th, 1986)

Q: I saw that thing in The Observer the other week, about the manuscript of the Apple Beatles biography and the vitriolic comments John made in the margins. I think that shows the sort of pain he was going through. Look, he was a great guy, great sense of humour and I’d do it all again. I’d go through it all again, and have him slagging me off again just because he was so great; those are all the down moments, there was much more pleasure than has really come out. I had a wonderful time, with one of the world’s most talented people. We had all that craziness, but if someone took one of your wedding photos and put ‘funeral’ on it, as he did on that manuscript, you’d tend to feel a bit sorry for the guy. I’ll tell you what, if I’d ever done that to him, he would’ve just hit the roof. But I just sat through it all like mild-mannered Clark Kent Q: When did you actually get a perspective on it? I still haven’t. It’s still inside me. John was lucky. He got all his hurt out. I’m a different sort of a personality. There’s still a lot inside me that’s trying to work it out. And that’s why it’s good to see that wedding-funeral bit, because I started to think, ‘Wait a minute, this is someone who’s going over the top. This is paranoia manifesting itself.’ And so my feeling is just like it was at the time, which is like, He’s my buddy, I don’t really want to do anything to hurt him, or his memory, or anything. I don’t want to hurt Yoko. But, at the same time, it doesn’t mean that I understand what went down.

Paul McCartney: An Innocent Man? (October, 1986)

Q: "But for a while you didn't get along with Linda." JOHN: "We all got along well with Linda." Q: "When did you first meet her?" JOHN: "The first time was after that Apple press conference in America. We were going back to the airport and she was in the car with us. I didn't think she was particularly attractive. A bit too tweedy, you know. But she sat in the car and took photographs and that was it. And the next minute she's married him."

John Lennon Interview: St. Regis Hotel, New York City 9/5/1971

One night John came in and some chick was in bed with Paul and he cut all her clothes up with a pair of scissors, and was stabbing the wardrobe. Everybody was lying in bed thinking, ‘Oh fuck, I hope he doesn’t kill me.’ [He was] a frothing mad person—he knew how to have ‘fun.’

George Harrison, c/o Derek Taylor, Fifty Years Adrift. (1984)

"One time Paul had a chick in bed and John came in and got a pair of scissors and cut all her clothes into pieces and then wrecked the wardrobe. He got like that occasionally, it was because of the pills and being up too long."

George Harrison (Source: The Beatles, Anthology, 1995)

"I remember I had a girlfriend called Celia. I must have been 16 or 17, about the same age as her...we went out one evening and for some reason John tagged along, I can't remember why it was. I think he'd thought I was going to see him, I thought I'd cancelled it and he showed up at my house. But he was a mate, and he came on a date with this Celia girl, and at the end of the date she said, 'Why did you bring that dreadful guy?' And of course I said, 'Well, he's all right really.' And I think, in many ways, I always found myself doing that. It was always, 'Well, I know he was rude; it was funny, though, wasn't it?'"

Paul, Barry Miles, Many Years From Now, 1997

I came for dinner, and I was the only girl there. John definitely didn't like that. He didn't like me being there at ALL. He was mean and sarcastic. As far as he was concerned, I had no business being invited to dinner with the four of them. For him this was an exclusive boys' club. He was purposely making me feel uneasy. At one point, the boys were handing around a scrapbook -- looking at pictures of that first tour. John made some snide comment like, "What is SHE doing here?" I got the idea that he thought Paul was an idiot to take a girl so seriously he'd actually invite her to dinner, when all he really needed to do was fuck her AFTER dinner.

Peggy Lipton, Breathing Out, 2005

Whether it was her cool confidence or her posh accent, something about Jane goaded John to direct his caustic eyes in her direction. “Well. Let’s all play a question-and-answer-game!” He announced a bit too cheerily. Then he turned to Jane. “So tell us, luv, how do girls play with themselves?” Silence. Jane’s eyes widened. Paul, sitting close to her on the floor, put his hand in the air, as if he could wave John’s words back into his mouth. “John! John!” he yelped. “Stop it. You can’t do that.” John just smiled, peering intently through his glasses. “No, you can tell us. Come on. We all want to know, come on.” Paul, looking aghast, shook his head vehemently. “John. For christsakes, John.”

Peter Ames Carlin, Paul McCartney: A Life

JOHN: So it was always the family thing, you see. If Jane [Asher] was to have a career, then that’s not going to be a cozy family, is it? All the other girls were just groupies mainly. And with Linda not only did he have a ready-made family, but she knows what he wants, obviously, and has given it to him. The complete family life. He’s in Scotland. He told me he doesn’t like English cities anymore. So that’s how it is. MCCABE: So you think with Linda he’s found what he wanted? JOHN: I guess so. I guess so. I just don’t understand… I never knew what he wanted in a woman because I never knew what I wanted. I knew I wanted something intelligent or something arty, whatever it was. But you don’t really know what you want until you find it. So anyway, I was very surprised with Linda. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d married Jane Asher, because it had been going on for a long time and they went through a whole ordinary love scene. But with Linda it was just like, boom! She was in and that was the end of it.

John Lennon, interview w/ Peter McCabe and Robert Schonfeld. (September, 1971)

Random cute things: flirting etc

I remember we were going down to the studio [...] and there was a great crowd pressing against the car. John was sitting in the back and he said, “Push Paul out first. He’s the prettiest.”

Victor Spinetti, in the documentary You Can’t Do That! The Making of ‘A Hard Day’s Night’ (1995).

We were away. The boys had relaxed. As we walked off to do the next scene, I heard them joshing each other, like schoolboys on the way to class. 'Are those jeans tight, Paul?' That was John. 'What do you mean tight?' 'I can see your suspender belt through 'em and your stockings. You've got ladders in them.'

Up Front: His Strictly Confidential Autobiography by Victor Spinetti

“I could even hear what they were saying off-mike; ‘Oh Paul, you’re so cute tonight.’ was met with the reply ‘Sod off, Lennon.’”

Joan Baez on accompanying the Beatles to their concert in Red Rocks Amphitheatre, Denver. 26 August 1964

To Lennon, [Paul] was "cute, and didn’t he know it," a born performer who was also a "thruster" and an "operator" behind the scenes.

Christopher Sandford, Paul McCartney, 2005

In a late wee-hour-of-the-morning talk, he once told me, ‘I’m just like everybody else Harry, I fell for Paul’s looks.”

Harry Nilsson speaking about John Lennon

HARRY: Someone told me a few minutes ago they saw John walking on the street [once] wearing a sign saying – a button, rather, saying ‘I Love Paul’. And this girl who told me that said she asked him, “Why are you wearing the button that says ‘I Love Paul’?” He said, “Because I love Paul.” [laughs]

February 17th, 1984: Harry Nilsson

PAUL: It’s like, uh, “We have to get back.” “We’re on our way home.” JOHN: Yeah. PAUL: There’s a story. There’s another one – ‘Don’t Let Me Down’. “Oh darling, I’ll never let you down.” Like we’re doing— JOHN: Yeah. It’s like you and me are lovers. PAUL: [reserved] Yeah. [pause] JOHN: We’ll just have to camp it up for those two. PAUL: Yeah. Well, I’ll be wearing my skirt for the show, anyway.

Get Back sessions

PAUL: Okay, “two of us riding nowhere” that’s as if…we’re like…two, but then “we’re on our way home” JOHN: It’s like we’re like a couple of queens. PAUL: Yeah. Well, you know. Well, I mean, that’s… JOHN: We’re a couple of queens… PAUL: That’s just too bad. Unless you want to get Paul and Paula in. Poetic license, John. JOHN: You’re telling me, Paul.

Get Back sessions

#mclennon #paul mccartney #john lennon #the beatles #philip norman's quotes are my favourite #that man deserves an olympic medal in mental gymnastics

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