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#they didn’t even give a reason for old gods to be playing. went ‘fuck it’ and just played it during random segments
velvetjune · 3 months
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I finished AWAN! It was fun. Turned Scratch to dust while a hawk screeched in the distance (it really was alans 😤✨🦅American 🇺🇸🦅💫 nightmare), then kissed my wife… in Night Springs. I think I enjoyed it more with the knowledge of what happens in Alan Wake 2. Makes everything more of Alan’s fantasy/failure while he’s still stuck in the spiral.
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celestiamour · 1 month
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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ it's a gift (you keep those) ]❜
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ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel
╰₊✧ giving him a plushie that reminded you of him┊1k words
setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: fluff, crushes, probably ooc but he’s so cute & wade is hard to write for, written for dp&w logan so idk if he got gifts in xmen, i forgot about laura, they are in touch and have a wonderful father-daughter relationship, i’m so sorry, edited
➤ author's note: i have so many thoughts but too incompetent to write
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logan’s never sure who will appear when he opens the door as wade’s quite the extrovert, either vanessa or one of his many other friends whom he’s now become somewhat acquainted with, but he certainly wasn’t expecting to meet the familiar eyes of the cute neighbor who lived a few doors down. he nervously scratched the back of his head, suddenly becoming aware of his shabby appearance, “uh, are you looking for wade?”
“no, i was actually looking for you!” god, your smile is so bright, it’s blinding. he normally hates perfume of any sort as it’s so overpowering to his heightened senses, but the one that you wore smelled so lovely like always. is that a new shade of lip gloss you’re wearing? it really suits you. (why on earth is he noticing all of these details out of the blue? he needs to snap out of whatever spell you put on him after being introduced when he first showed up and only interacting in passing since then).
“looking for me?” he repeated, in disbelief, trying his best not to allow his surprise to slip into his voice. considering he isn’t from this dimension and not the most agreeable person to be around, he had no friends of his own yet and hasn’t been visited by anyone since he got here. a beat of panic struck him, thinking that he was in trouble for something and you came to complain. he really couldn’t think of any other reason you were here for him even though you were so cheerful.
you were carrying some shopping bags with you, dropping them on the ground before reaching into one and pulling out a large fuzzy plushie of a gray cat hidden under layers of glittery tissue paper, “i saw this cutie when i went shopping with my friends and thought it looked like you!” you held it out for him to take, looking so proud of the stuffed animal.
he hesitated for a second before accepting it, trying to take in the fact that you were reminded of him in your day-to-day life. it made his heart flutter, and he found himself dumbfounded by the feeling. he was frequently teased by his roomate about his little “crush” on you, claiming that it was oh so obvious and that the sooner he accepted it, the better, but he never realized until now how pathetic he was when it came to you. was the wolverine really getting butterflies like a fucking schoolgirl in his old-ass age? thank god no one was home right now to bully him about it, he would never hear the end of it.
“it does not look like me,” he scoffed playfully after a quick examination.
“no, it definitely does! it’s a big, grumpy kitty—” you took a step closer to hold it with him, pointing at all the similarities you observed, although it was clear you were exaggerating for laughs. “see the little frowny face and ears? it could be your identical twin separated from birth! willy mentioned that you act like a cat most of the time, and i think it fits perfectly!”
the smile he didn’t realize was plastered on his face faltered at the last piece of information, grateful that you didn’t notice. that idiot has been talking about him to you? he might as well forget about any chance of getting with you, because knowing how he yaps without a filter and loves to play matchmaker, you probably think he’s a freak of some sort. “only good things, i hope…”
you giggled, the sweetest sound he ever heard. “of course, he’s really fond of you… well, maybe a bit too fond, but you already know about that!” you opened your mouth to continue the conversation or say something else, but your phone started ringing and you excused yourself, looking a little shy as you grabbed up your bags. “i’ll talk to you later!” you sounded so excited about the prospect of it before leaving, your voice and footsteps becoming fainter as you walked back to your place.
“wait, you didn’t take back the cat—”
“it’s a gift! you keep those!”
“oh… right…”
he lingered for a moment, unable to say much in response since you left in such a rush. when was the last time someone gave him a present? staring at this brand new item, he still couldn’t see the resemblance in any way, but knowing that it was a gift from you gave him a rare feeling of happiness which returned every time he looked at it from then on among his few possessions. 
“oh my goodness, what is this adorable thing?!” wade exclaimed when he saw it sitting on the couch where logan slept, picking it up to gawk at before tossing it up in the air and catching it before it hit the floor. “ooh, let me guess, it’s a gift from her, isn’t it?” 
the mutant groaned at his mocking tone. “put it down before you ruin it with your grubby hands,” he commanded, snatching it from his grasp (rough enough to make his point clear, but carefully enough not to tear it apart). his roommate didn’t even bother pretending to be offended like he usually would as he was simply overjoyed that his “ship” was coming true. “it doesn’t mean anything, don’t make it weird.”
“it doesn’t mean anything?! how can you say that when it’s going to be the first gift you give to your first child together—”
“first what??”
“nevermind, what are you gonna name it?”
“i have to name it?”
“have you never owned a stuffed animal before? you have to name it! how heartbroken is she going to be when she asks what you named it and you say that you haven’t done that?! she’s gonna think that you don’t value her gifts!” you would think the world was going to end if he didn’t do so if you heard the way he was speaking.
“fine, i’ll name it…” he looked deeply into the toy’s soulless eyes, noting how soft the outer material was against his calloused hand, “... fluffy…”
“that’s such a shitty name—”
“shut the fuck up, it’s been decided.”
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jarofstyles · 3 months
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Please write us some extreme pda like I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea but I love it 😩 like they’re out at a bar and all of their friends are disgusted and annoyed but they’re just so in love they can’t keep their hands off each other 😭😭 like just lots of kisses, neck kisses, lap sitting, whispering to each other, giggling, hair playing etc 🥰
Oh I love a sickly PDA couple but only in books bc I’ll probably vom if I see it irl. So sure!
Here is a bit from Leather and Lace since we just finished them up.
Check out our Patreon!
——
“I can’t believe you’ve turned to mush.”
“Shut up.” Harry grumbled, holding Y/N closer on his lap. His chin rested on the dip in her shoulder, lips pried away from the chaste kisses he’d been giving to her throat. It was probably obnoxious but Harry really didn’t care. His indifference to what people thought went soul deep. All he really cared about was Y/N, if he was being honest.
And maybe the milkshake she’d promised him on the way home for prying him out of her bed. That was a topic he went back to a few times tonight. 
“Oi, be nice.” Y/N laughed, placing her hand on top of his ringed one to squeeze it lightly. There wasn’t much heat behind her words, merely defending Niall so he wouldn’t be complaining as much to her.
“Thank you. Feels like m’constantly third wheeling now. Knew he had a hard on for ya, but I didn’t expect him to turn into a good old fashioned loverboy.” The man scoffed. Harry merely rolled his eyes, jaw setting slightly as he narrowed his gaze.
“We are not the only people here. Y’know that, yeah? There’s like, a dozen of your friends here. You can fuck off if you’re annoyed. Not my problem.” He hammered in the point with a smirk, kissing the girl’s cheek a few times to make him screw his face up in disgust.
“I was trying to be nice, you old grouch! Even being loved up you still find a way to be mean t’me.” Their friend pouted before sticking up his middle finger, excusing himself to get another drink.
“Baby…” Harry whined slightly, tapping at her cheek to encourage her to turn it. “He’s finally gone. C’mere.” There was no chance of her scolding him as he pressed his lips to hers. They were slightly sticky from the virgin strawberry daiquiri she’d been sipping on -extra maraschino cherries- and sweet to the tongue as he hummed happily against them. This was precisely what he wanted. People to fuck off and leave him to love on her.
Y/N was soothed by his touch, a light giggle muffled by his lips as he turned her slightly in his lap so he could kiss her properly. He’d behaved well enough- for Harry, anyways- so she wasn’t going to get on him too much. He hadn’t wanted to go out, as usual, so she’d bribed him with the promise that he could love on her as much as he wanted- but he had to keep it PG-13. Her fingers brushed through his hair, shivering slightly as his fingers dipped under the hem of her dress.
“Mm… careful.” She sighed, but made no effort to stop. As much as she wanted to be proper, it was hard to want to stop him as he touched her. She played it cool most of the time but she was just as far gone for him as he was for her.
“M’very careful with you, Butterfly.” He nipped lightly at her bottom lip. “Even when you beg me not t’be. But I’ve suffered these people long enough. If you want me t’be nice, I need my kisses.” His voice was quiet enough to not disturb the other people around. His sweet words were reserved solely for the girl who held his affections. Especially the dirtier ones.
“H!” She grinned against his mouth, leaning further in to kiss him again. Wrapping her arm around his shoulder, she leaned into him with a dreamy sigh. Hot fingertips ran over the silky skin of her inner thigh, moisturized to the gods in her shower routine today for this exact reason.
“I can’t help it, you’re always so soft. So sweet…” he cooed. “Want t’eat you up. Torture sitting here when all I want t’do is sit you on my cock to keep it warm while you talk t’me. That’s your favorite, isn’t it?”
Harry never did play fair. Holding back the whine in her throat, she huffed instead. Giving his hair a little tug, she tried her best to look menacing- as menacing as she could in her pretty lilac dress he’d picked out especially for her tonight. “It is, and you’re bein’ mean to me by mentioning it. We can’t here.” Even if the thought made her hot between her thighs, it was too risky.
“I know. We should go home so we can.” The man was trying to coax her and knew where to hit it where it hurt, but they’d barely been out with friends since establishing themselves as a couple.
“Not yet, I’m sorry.” The pout on her face made him forgive her, even if there was still a hint of bitterness over the fact. “They begged for us to come out and it’s only been two hours. One more and we can go home, okay?”
Harry answered with a grunt, hiding his face in her throat again while he resumed with his throat kisses. As much as he wanted to leave, he wanted to make her happy even more. The weakness was real when it came to his Butterfly. Even more so because she’d paused her social tendencies for him. “Okay. But you’re gonna have t’make it up to me big time as soon as we get home, okay?” He was plotting for sure. “An hour straight of making out, a little feel under the dress, maybe a little begging with that cute pout for me to take it off. You know how I like it.”
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emmie-writes-stuff · 5 months
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So the new chapter is out and GOOD GOD do I have some thoughts and a lot of them don’t make a whole lot of sense but I can’t not talk about this chapter
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Firstly, Kaiser looks adorable (never thought I’d say that about him outside of my head but here I am)
Secondly, holy hell my heart hurts
He didn’t deserve this, no child deserves this
The fact that he had to “go to work” and just steal
HE HAS NO SHOES his little feet have got to hurt, or they’ve completely calloused up from not wearing shoes, but even then (speaking from experience) it still hurts to walk on hot ground and rocks and other stuff on the street
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Yknow, I understood him hating milk before (because milk is disgusting) but now I get it even more
What a stupid reason to get upset, imma kick this waste of space excuse for a father in the fucking face AND balls because ITS FUCKING MILK
Eat some damn fiber or somethin if you got constipation issues
Who let this absolute scum of the earth reproduce???
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HES LITERALTL TWELVE YEARS OLD
All the other shit went down before he was even double digits
But dangerous situations create smart kids, and Kaiser was very smart to start saving his own money
I used to have my own stash in case I ever had to run away (long story, we’re not getting into my family issues in this post, but yeah)
At least he has shoes now, protect those feet plz, they’re what keep you upright and moving
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Soooooooo are we gonna acknowledge that he treats the soccer ball the same way he’s currently treating Ness orrrrrrrr
But like, it’s nice that he has an outlet to channel his anger into that isn’t a person (at least for now smh)
It’s really interesting seeing how each of the characters came to play soccer
(Side note: but he throws the ball at a picture of a woman, could he maybe be imagining this woman as his mother?)
His mother also deserves a kick to the face if I have anything to say bout it
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I have no words for this
Just, can I steal him? Please? I’ll give him a good life
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Fuck the snitches, how dare they
Also, you can clearly see his ribs defined, and that hurts me
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I love that he was willing to let go of everything
He was ready to start fresh with getting money, was cooperating with the police, until the soccer ball was threatened
Because that is his most valuable possession
The money doesn’t matter, but the ball is a symbol to him of something that won’t leave him or hurt him
It’s a very small sense of independence and stability in this very unstable and controlling environment
The ball is heavily implied to be the first thing he ever bought for himself, it’s what defined a key part in his life
Taking that away is like taking away his soul, his outlet, and comfort, and Kaiser just couldn’t stand for it
There’s so many more things I’m thinkin and I have way too many incoherent thoughts for tumblr, but these are the ones I was able to clear up and make sense of
This chapter hit very deep and while my past doesn’t involve much physical abuse and struggles to this level, it was hard not to empathize and relate my own experiences with abuse with the ones in this chapter
I don’t wanna get into shit, it’s not somethin I exactly wanna put out in the public, but there’s so much here that I could understand and relate to and it just made everything so much more difficult to read (in a good way I guess)
Just, GOD, why did I have to become a fan before this chapter came out???
Okay, that’s my ramble for this, bye before I start going on even more tangents
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sweetpinkchampagne · 10 months
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sinful II
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18+ readers only please lovelies!! (this is for a reason please listen<3)
little synopsis: the reader is tonys daughter (he had her young, canon doesnt exist) theres tension between you and stephen, an obvious age gap keeping you from eachother (26, 40). theyre 'trapped' in an elevator together and the tension crumbles.
its been 2 days since the elevator incident and stephen has left you high and dry.. at an event you spot stephen with a young model in his lap, clearly he has a type. an angry confrontation leads to sex in a bathroom.
pronouns: female pronouns are used
relationship: fem reader x stephen strange not established relationship
note: i do not know what possessed me to write this shit, i will not apologise. i love you <333
warnings: defined age gap, stephen being possessive, controlling smut, dd/lg kind offf, petnames, semi public sex
it had been two nights, two long nights since your slip up with stephen. since you dropped your façade. you had woken up in his bedroom to cold sheets and an empty pillow. he had gone. fuck that, you thought. neither of you texted each other and conveniently he missed two days of work. well, define work - because he managed to find it within him to show up to a gala your father had thrown. a very fancy gala where people bidded on expensive technology and played characters for an evening. mingle with potential investors, keep up with appearances, engage with the press. those were the rules, and you weren’t going to disobey your father. another interesting detail that was headlined by TMZ, “doctor stephen strange seen with blonde supermodel. love or lust?” you weren’t blonde, or a supermodel by trade. that struck a nerve. 
it was 8pm, the gala had started an hour ago but you decided that just in case he did show up, you wanted to make a statement. your dress was a floor length black lacey number, with a sheer element that somewhat exposed your lower back and your ass. cascading down the stairs elegantly, you pushed open the doors loudly, fuck it you wanted to be seen. interrupting some old white man's bid on your father’s new bionic eye invention. the room went silent and heads whipped around. you sauntered over to the round table that seated natasha and maria, plopping yourself down in the seat next to the lovebirds. out of the corner of your eye you could see a man with jet black hair and grey streaks eyeing you, tongue in cheek, jaw clenched and you loved in it. natasha was the only person who knew of your one night stand turned revenge plot - therefore so did maria. you loved them both dearly.
“he’s staring, oh he’s livid.” natasha chuckled, adjusting her necklace. you swiveled turning back in your seat to grab a glass of very expensive champagne from the waiter, thanking him. 
“who’s that?” maria cocked her head, studying the blonde sat next to him. you knew it was her, you didn’t bother to look.
“stella whitford, shes a 26 year old model for dolce and gabbana.” natasha nearly spat out her red wine at your retort and maria snorted. 
“jesus stark! what are you, a stalker?” nat composed herself before looking back at the model. whitford was laughing, stephen whispering something in her ear. must have been fucking hilarious. 
“not a stalker, i'm just...well–read.” 
“didn’t think TMZ was your kind of read.”
“oh, so you guys saw it too?” maria nodded before mumbling an insult directed to stephen under her breath and nat agreed. you shrugged in response, "it's clear he’s just a middle aged man who preys on young women. i couldn't care less. honestly." you lied
“oh come on..” natasha responded, giving you an all-knowing look. 
“sold!! to edward tieran for 6.5 million dollars!” the sound of the mallet against the wood ringing in your ears as the crowd clapped. you heard the blonde pleading behind yo, far away and stephen firmly saying no. controlling prick. stella stood up, dismissing stephen before making her way to your table. you appreciated that.
“hi! oh my god, i know this is totally unprofessional but i’m like a big fan and i just- i'm sorry i just wanted to meet you! i’m stella.” she grinned widely, adoringly looking at you. she was so sweet. it was clear she had no idea about you and stephen. 
“oh! no, don't apologise, that’s so sweet!! it’s so nice to meet you stella” you shook her hand before natasha queried politely. 
“are you sitting with, strange?” she said with a smile on her face. you kicked her ankle from under the table and maria bit her cheek to hold back her laughter. 
“oh, yeah. he’s just a hookup, to be entirely honest with you i just wanted to attend a gala. i begged for him to take me and he finally gave in! he’s not my type, he was just in the right place at the right time.” a wave of relief washed over you, drowning you. you all continued chatting, politely mingling and she swiftly checked her phone seeing it was 10:30pm. 
“i'm so sorry! i have to go, i have this like really important club event to go to, you know how it is. there’s a buncha modelling scouts there. it was so lovely meeting you guys!!” she quickly hurried off, abandoning stephen. 
“i love her, can we take her home? she’s so precious” natasha teased at how threatened you were by stella. you felt stupid. she was lovely. more than lovely, and she was absolutely gorgeous.
“okay, okay.. i got it. she’s very sweet and i feel like an idiot.” you groaned, your head resting against your hand, your elbow on the table. it was bad manners, but whatever. servers holding plates of the regular beef and chicken circulated the venue, placing meals to the left of attendees. 
“i'm just going to go to the ladies room, i’ll be back” you sighed, ducking in between the servers, apologising but still confidently walking. you opened the doors to the lobby, it was entirely empty. the bathroom was beautiful, with gorgeous marble pillars and sinks. you touched up your lipstick and stood there composed. you washed your hands and dried them with a paper towel, still embarrassed. you walked with your back to the door to the bathroom, throwing your balled up paper towel into the bin. and suddenly, thud. a lean but muscular body hit you. before you could turn around to see who it was he spoke. 
“nice shot” you could recognise that baritone voice anywhere. you rolled your eyes and turned around. 
“i could get you kicked out for harassment for standing in the women's bathroom” you bit back. you were all riled up. 
“what? you're lonely, date leave you or something??” you said turning around. he was smirking. god you wanted to slap him. you swore you weren’t an angry person but he did things to you. 
“oh don’t tell me you’re jealous, dear.” he walked forward, essentially pushing his way into the bathroom before he shut the door. jealous?? please. 
“you were the one who left, didn’t speak a word to me and then hooked up with stella whitford - who by the way, can do so much better than you.” you scoffed. 
“you reading up on me, baby? i didn’t know you cared for me that much” he chuckled, looking around the bathroom, continuing to step forward before your lower back hit one of the beautiful marble sinks. 
“drop your panties” he said lowly, undoing his dress shirt’s sleeves, before efficiently rolling them up and backing you against the sink and lowering his head down to look at you. 
“excuse me? you can’t just barge in here after you left me in the dark" you were swiftly cut off. 
“do I need to repeat myself? i said, drop your fucking panties, stark. don't be bratty.” he had your chin positioned up, looking into your eyes, tutting. that cold, sexy stare. would you be weak for giving in, because god you wanted to.. without thinking you complied, shimming down your skimpy black lace underwear and throwing them at his chest. he chuckled at your childish response before he spun you around and unzipped your dress. he didn’t rip it, he unzipped it.. that was new. the dress fell to the floor. 
“elbows on the sink for me, pretty girl, can you do that fr’ me??” you were putty in his hands.
“this isn't fair and you know it.” you retorted, the cold marble stinging your elbows. 
“i know baby, let me kiss it better for you, yeah??” the sound of him undoing his belt sent shivers down your spine. this wasn’t exactly a private bathroom, anyone could walk in at any time and he knew it. before you knew it he was pounding into you as you gripped the sink, hot breaths fogging up the mirrors as the sound of skin hitting skin echoed through the room. 
“oh stephen.” you moaned, throwing your head back slightly, he wasn’t kind, this wasn’t making love - this was pure sex. 
“fucking christ you’re addictive.” he groaned before speeding up his pace. he was hitting your cervix unmercilessly. his knuckles white as he dug into the plush of your hips. god he looked good in a suit. the pounding against your g-spot made you whimper, your eyes glazed over and your mouth parted. your hair wasn’t in the pretty curls they were before you stepped into the bathroom. 
“god- i’m.. go- gonna.” you whimpered and he smirked at you in the mirror, watching you intently. 
“right there with you, come on sweetheart. give it to me, make a mess fr’ me.”  
you were done for. you came with a loud cry, your body shaking and trembling as the last waves of pleasure washed over you. he released your hips and kissed the back of your neck, giving you a satisfied, cocky smile. you collapsed in his arms, your heart still pounding as he cleaned you up, redressed you and propped you back up on the sink. his scarred hands gently taming your hair and tucking a curl behind your ears. he kissed your forehead as you looked up at him dumbly, face flushed, freshly fucked, head empty. how could you have said yes?
“fucking christ you’re addictive” the words he had spoken previously, ringing in your ears, stuck in your head.
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friautyalltheway · 1 year
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To please a woman
✶﹒Jim Hopper x Reader
⊂📔🍒⊃
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Content Warnings: Hard Dom! Hop, Bratty Sub! Reader, Corruption Kink, Fingering, Degradation, Oral (fem receiving), BDSM, kinda? (Use of Handcuffs), Sir kink, Praise, Begging, Hair Pulling, No Condom (always keep it safe kids!!), this is literally just porn atp, manhandling, Overstimulation
2,7k words
18+ below the cut
How long had it bee since Jim Hopper last had a good fuck? An one-night stand? A woman in his life? Too long. It´s been definitely too long. Even though he knew he shouldn’t be thinking about sex while at work, he did so regardless. His filthy thoughts started taking advantage of him a few days ago, naughty imaginations clouding his mind, making it impossible for him to focus on anything else. Shit, how old was he? 18? Shouldn’t people his age be out and about, thriving with their wives, their families? Whatever. It could not be that hard, finding a willing woman somewhere in Hawkins.
With that thought in mind, he hurriedly closed the doors of the Police Station after his shift was finally over for the day, and made his way straight into his favourite pub. Lucky for him, you have had the exact same thought as him today, on the lookout for a man who could pleasure you the right way. But you definitely didn’t expect that man to be the Chief of Police.
Hopper opened the door that lead onto the pub, looking around as he made his way towards the counter. That was until he spotted you sitting at one of the tables, all by yourself. He took that as a chance to sit down at the same table, taking of his hat, grumpily greeting you.
Soon, you were lost in a conversation, talking about this and that. You never took him as a funny, nice guy - but that was exactly who he was. All to your surprise. But what surprised you even more, was him admitting after a few beers, that he went to the pub for the exact same reason as you. To have sex.
Jim was a very attractive man, way older than you were. But you did not have a problem with the age gap - age gaps were good. Boys your age just didn’t know what they were doing yet.
So it was not surprising to find yourself buckling up your seatbelt in Hopper´s police car a few minutes after paying.
The car ride was painfully long, the tension in the air so thick the both of you could barely breathe.
After what seemed like hours, you finally arrived at his Cabin. He turned of the car´s engine, and looked over to you.
“I swear to god, that was the last thing i had expected to happen today. Jesus.”
He shook his head, a small grin tugging at his lips. You giggled softly. “Me neither.”, you admitted. Hoppers right hand found your thigh, giving it a light squeeze, nodding twice while doing so. He opened the door, and got out of his seat. You took one last, deep breath, and left the car as well. As you walked around the car, Hopper suddenly pushed you against the car´s hood, his lips greedily pressing against yours. You moaned quietly at the sudden impact, but he let go of you a few seconds into the kiss.
“Sorry. Can’t contain myself. Lets go inside and get this started, hm, sweetheart?”
As soon as you stepped inside, he pushed you against the wall, pinning your hands over you head, continuing to kiss you hungrily. His lips left yours and made their way over to your ear, softly nibbling on it. “I want to destroy you so bad, you have no idea.”, he whispered, a slight rasp to his voice. You let out a quiet whimper at this comment - him asserting his dominance over you was the most arousing thing you had ever experienced. Just thinking about your age (and size) gap made you press your thighs together in anticipation for what was about to come. “Need you to do that”
There was no way in hell you would be able to think straight, so you just gave up on forming full sentences by now.
His right hand still pinned your hands down, as his other one slowly traveled down the side of your body, coming to rest on your breast. He started groping it, playing with your nipples. At this point you were a mess in his hands, completely submitted to him. “I barely started, and you already stopped thinking straight. Pathetic.”
His teasing went right down between your legs, the wetness intensifying. “Stop- stop the teasing. Need more. Please. Need so- so much more.” A low chuckle fell from his lips at your comment. But he didn’t change his pace, he didn´t roam farther south where you needed him most. Instead, the hand that cupped your breast went upwards again, grabbing the back of your head, pulling you towards his lips again to reward you with yet another greedy, passionate kiss, which you loudly moaned into. “So, so greedy… Just have some patience, will you now?”
You nodded. Suddenly, he grabbed you by the hair and yanked your head back. “I want you to answer me properly when I ask you a question!”, he angrily said through gritted teeth. What would scare most people living in Hawkins, only turned you on even more.
“Y-yes.”
“Yes, what?” “Yes, sir.” “Better.” He went from the back of your head to give your ass a hard spank and then gripping it roughly. You tried moving your hands to touch him, but couldn’t escape his tight grip. “You´ll move when I say so. Got that?” “Yes.” The grip on your wrists intensified. “Yes sir!” A small chuckle left Hoppers mouth. “I think it´s time to move this to the bedroom, hm?”
As soon as you entered the bedroom, he pushed you on the bed, his lips finding yours again. Holding back was impossible now, and you pressed your core up to his already hard crotch, your fingers tangling in his hair, at which he lowly groaned. “Fuck, look what you do to me. Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.”
He opened your belt, eagerly pulling down your pants and then dragging his finger along your clothed slit, which was soaked by now.
“Shit, you´re so damn wet. Can´t wait to see what your insides feel like. What you taste like.”
Your panties and bra didn’t stay on long, after he had yanked them off your body - him still fully clothed. His kissed slowly started traveling down your body, making halt where you needed him most. Your hips jerked upwards in excitement, but he didn´t give you what you wanted just yet.
“Now, what do good girls do when they want something real bad? When the officer catches up on them, and they don´t want to be punished, hm? They beg him for mercy. Oh, they beg so nice and good to please him, so he will let them go. I won’t let you go, no way in hell, but I still want you to beg for me. Beg, as if your life depends on it, can you do that for me?”
Where did that man learn how to talk this dirty from?! It was undeniably hot, so of course, you gave him what he wanted. Right now, you would probably do anything just to have him finally pleasure you the right way. So there was no holding back.
“Please. Please use me, do anything you want to me, I need you, I need you inside me, on top of me, whatever, please, please, please, sir, make me fall apart, make me your whore, i don’t care anymore. I will do anything for pleasure, please!”
You desperation made Hopper release a low groan, but still, he didn’t give you what you needed. What more did you have to do? “Go on. Come on, continue…”
Asshole.
“Mhh, please, please, just do it. I gave you so much already, please, i think I might die if you wont touch me. Shit, shit, destroy me, please, please just - ah!”
His tongue found your clit in the middle of your sentence, suckling on it, softly biting down on it. You arched your back, hips pressing up against his head. Finally he added a finger, curling it so it perfectly hit your G-Spot. Just how on earth could he be this good at all that?!
Soon, he added another finger. And then, a third one. “Mh- close…”
“Not yet, sweetheart. I need you to fulfil the promise you made earlier, can you remember? You told me I should make you my whore- good whores cum when their Sir tells them to.”
“Yes, yes sir. Understood…”
Hopper couldn’t believe that you really were this obedient. Of course, he had to be dominant in his job as well - but it was way more arousing to be dominant in bed. His erection pressed tightly against his pants, needing attention. Shit, he swore he could cum alone from fucking you with his tongue.
After what felt like hours, he finally pulled out his fingers, and removed his mouth from your aching core. He moved towards you, grabbing your hand and placing it over the tent that had formed in his pants.
“Can you feel that? This is what you do to me, girl. My little whore, hm?”
You were practically drooling at this point - which didn’t go unnoticed by Hopper. But he himself couldn’t stand this torture anymore. He finally needed to fuck you so good you wouldn’t be able to walk for the next week. He finally wanted to see you completely break underneath him, wanted to fuck you dumb.
So he started to unbuckle his belt. He did not bother undressing, only pulled his pants and his underwear down a little bit to reveal his dick.
Him fully clothed, on top of your naked body, his erection pressed against your wet folds - the thought alone nearly made you cum. His teeth nibbled at your earlobe again, and with a raspy whisper he said:
“I need it just as bad as you do right now. But I need you to beg for it again. I need to know what my little, good slut needs.”
Again. He wanted you to plead again. You slowly started to get a little embarrassed, your face heating up, your cheeks turning red. You tried to turn your head away to undergo having to beg Hopper to fuck you. You did enough begging by now, anyways.
What you didn’t expect though, was Hopper suddenly getting up and leaving the room. You sat up, confused. What was he doing, in the middle of all this?
Your question quickly got answered as he came back - handcuffs in hand. “Lay down. Hands behind your back.”
You looked at him with widened eyes, not prepared for this kind of power play. Only to see what would happen, you started acting up, refusing to follow his instructions. “What if I don’t, sir?”
He let out a low chuckle. “Then Ill make you.”
“Hmm, I don’t know about that. I bet I could just Get up and leave!”
That was wha sent him over the edge. Leave? You? No. No one could leave once he had them in his hands. He was the chief of Police after all!
In a matter of seconds, he had your body pressed up against the mattress, your wrists in a firm grip as he adjusted the handcuffs. Moving was barely impossible in that position, face pressed into the soft pillow, muffling your whimpers.
“Arch that back.”, Hopper demanded. This time, you did not stand up against his orders. Your ass was now pressing against his dick, already dripping with precum. “And i swear to go, if you ever, ever even think about disobeying me again, I’m going to absolutely destroy you until your knees give out. Until you’re bruised black and blue, does that sound good to you, hm?”
He grabbed your hair again, and pulled your head up, turning it towards him. His other hand squished your cheeks together, making it harder for you to answer.
“M-mh yesh, shir”
God, you felt so stupid. You sounded so stupid. But that apparently was amusing to him, because a dirty grin settled on his face.
“Thats how I like my good whore. Obedient and submissive.”
Without warning, he thrust his dick into your core, making you scream in both pleasure and pain. He set a slow, but hard pace, the room being filled by the sound of skin against skin, your moans and his soft groans.
Hopper put one had on the chain that held the handcuffs together, pulling on it. His other hand made its way towards your mouth, where to of his fingers slipped between your lips.
“Suck on them, will you?”
So you did. You were so close to orgasming, and having both your pussy and your mouth stuffed, and being completely submitted and helpless did not help you at all. Wait until I allow you to cum, he said. As if it was that easy!
“Mhh, good whore. Good girl. Doing such a good job, taking my cock so well.”
His pace sped up, and you assumed he was close as well. Hopefully he would allow you to cum as soon as possible. But that was not the case. You tried telling him that you couldn’t hold it any longer, but his fingers fucking your mouth made that almost impossible. Each thrust threatened to throw you over the edge, as you tried your best to hold yourself back from reaching your height. But fuck, that did not work. With one last, loud moan, your walls clenched around his cock, eyes rolling back in your head as you experienced one of the most amazing orgasm you’ve ever had.
Hoppers thrusts stopped. He took the fingers out of your mouth, moving his hand up to your head, and yanking it back by your hair.
“Shit, what did I tell you about cumming without my permission?!”
He was furious.
He turned you on your back, eyes staring right into yours. “Dumb whore.”, he said, and squished your cheeks again. “Open up your mouth - don’t make me ask twice.”
As you did so, he spat right into it. “Swallow.” You made sure not to disobey him again, seeing what it had led to.
Hopper spread apart your legs, and started fucking you again. Your pussy felt sore from all the foreplay and the hard orgasm you had just experienced - but he did not care. He put his full body weight on you, nearly crushing you. Your legs were resting upon his shoulders, his fingers caressing your clit.
“´M gonna cum soon. And you will, too. I don’t care if you’re overstimulated or not, this is an order. And you know what happens when you disobey the chief of Police, right, sweetheart?”
You nodded, tears welling in your eyes. You didn’t even need to try hard to cum, as you were already on the verge of yet another orgasm.
“Cum, sweet whore. My sweet girl, you’ve been taking it so well. Cum around my cock, I know you can do it.”
His words of encouragement were enough to send you over the edge for the second time today. Seeing you, all vulnerable, completely fucked out and into submission also sent Hopper over the edge. He leaned down to give you a sloppy kiss, hands tangling in your hair, while both of you rode out your high.
“Shit,” Hopper said as he pulled out and laid down beside you. “You did fucking amazing.” His words made you smile, but you were way too tired to respond to that. “Yeah, get some rest. You deserve it.”
You heard him change in the bathroom, coming back to lie down besides you, tucking the both of you under his blanket.
You would have never expected it, but Jim Hopper, the Chief of Police of Hawkins was very cuddly after Sex - which you found extremely adorable. He softly stroked your cheeks while you drifted away to sleep, and you loved every second of it.
He surely knows how to please a woman.
205 notes · View notes
papergirllife · 2 years
Text
Liu Yang Yang
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Yandere! Fanboy Yang Yang x Idol! Reader
‘He was the fanboy at the front of the show, but he’s not satisfied’
warnings: stalking, threats towards someone (not mc), unprotected sex, knife play, cream pie, yandere obsessive behaviour, morally grey characters, etc.
DON’T LIKE, DON’T READ, HATE MESSAGES WOULD BE DELETED, THANK YOU.
word count: 11k
Your tired eyes were still fighting the sleepiness behind your lids as you read the comments on the side of the screen, your fans using this opportunity to appreciate your face up close, no make up on and only a single study lamp on, but still your complexion was almost flawless, well, to Yang Yang and some of the fellow fans that love you just as much anyways.
“Thank you everyone who spent their precious time with me, it’s been a hectic time lately, and I think you guys have some really accurate speculations behind the reason why,” you said with a cute wink to the camera of your new desktop, the same one Yang Yang gifted you, “and lastly, I’d like to thank MienYang, my fansite for gifting me this new monitor, you really didn’t have to, my old one only had slight glitches,” you said, to which Yang Yang remembers, flashing back to the last live you did with your old monitor, the camera quality was shit, “and I hope the rest of you have a good night’s rest, fighting for tomorrow! Bye!” you said, ending your live.
Yang Yang sits back in his leather chair, releasing a content sigh, he always feels all his stress of the day seep out of his body whenever he’s watched your lives, it was even better than therapy, not that he’ll ever tell his therapist this.
Yang Yang likes to call himself your biggest fan, although he’s new considered the fact that your group isn’t, he likes to think that he found you at the perfect time when he needed you.
Yang Yang is the head of his father’s electronics company here in Seoul, his company produces chips and motherboards for big brands that are much too lazy to make and manage their own factories anymore, which would explain the expansion to here in South Korea after sealing a deal with the biggest mobile brand here, it was a tough time for him, adjusting to a new environment with only the basics of the foreign language he had crammed into his head as per his father’s orders.
He was so stressed about the business that one day he randomly passed by this stadium with resellers outside selling tickets for more than two times the price, he couldn’t give a flying fuck at first, but when he heard the last minute rehearsal going on from behind the walls, he impulsively bought a ticket, his excuse being that he heard a voice that sounded like an angel, and so he bought the front row seats to the concert, Yang Yang only knows of the older groups from his teenage years, so he thought of this as an impulsive purchase and nothing more to destress, but when he laid eyes on the face of the owner, he knew he was in for another fan experience he had went through for exo.
You were angelic in the opening song, an upbeat cheerful song performed by your group to hype up the atmosphere, but a few songs later, the concept started to change, to a mysterious and somewhat sexy one, he didn’t know your group was so versatile, and needless to say, you shined the most, with your hooded eyes and occasional lip bites accompanied by the teasing rolls of your hips to the choreography, Yang Yang knew he had to have you no matter the price.
And so he let himself fall into the rabbit hole of you, researching about your entire background, where you’re from, your hobbies, your favourite food, your favourite colour, name it, he knows, even your weight and blood type.
None of his employees or his father’s lackies know about this obsession of his, of course, god forbid his father knowing, he’d be shipped back to Germany piece by piece.
Yang Yang, to mask his identity, adorns in all black attire whenever he follows you to your schedules in his identity of your new fansite, he never stalked you, Yang Yang has a company to manage, he only follows you to official schedules, like music shows and sometimes award shows, he has to keep up with the image of a fansite, just to send you gifts, yes he’s sent you tons of gifts, from the latest Prada bag you have, down to the mouse on your desk he just saw, all under the name of MienYang, which is a ring to the animal you resemble, a sheep, which came about after you had gone viral for wearing an oversized white knitted sweater, and Mien is noodles in his native language, for your love for ramyeon, see? He knows every single meticulous detail.
Yang Yang was content with being a silent fan at first, thinking maybe he was a bit too obsessive in the midst of his whirlwind parasocial romance, but he brushes the thought aside, no one can treat you the way you truly deserve, and definitely not the shitty company you’re signed under.
At first it was just the innocent act, or not so innocent, of being roped into a sasaeng group chat that trades info about your group’s schedule like his peers did with bitcoins and nfts, Yang Yang didn’t want anything to do with it at first, but when he saw these sasaengs having ‘dirt’ on some of your members for dating, he had to ask, just a harmless question of whether you were secretly seeing anyone. Yang Yang was bracing for the worst if he was honest, but to his surprise, the group chat blew up with a slew of messages about your love life, or lack there of.
‘She’s a hermit, the only thing she does is sneak out for late night convenience store runs near her dorm.’
‘I used to follow her when she was my bias, but she was so boring that she doesn’t even leave her dorms unless it’s for shopping.’
‘I don’t think she’s ever stepped foot in a club, not even a pub....’
Now this was interesting, the user who had commented on how you went out for convenience stores late at night had messaged him privately, saying that he could sell him more info if he wants, but with a price, and did Yang Yang say yes? You bet his ass he did.
He had met up with the guy at a cafe at a less busy hour to ‘discuss’.
“As we had agreed upon, 100k won per question,” the guy said, his appearance was a mess, he probably followed you last night too, to get more out of this, he did this for a living, he has to go all out.
“First question, is it true that she’s single and holes up in her dorm all the time?” Yang Yang asked.
“That’s two questions, yes, and as a bonus, she’s only had a brief 3 months relationship before moving to Korea, but I think most fans know this by now, and to answer your second question, yes that’s true, she’s very much a hermit, goes to work and then comes home straight, that’s 200k pretty boy, anymore questions?” the guy says before taking a sip of his iced americano, paid for by Yang Yang of course, and before Yang Yang could do some logical thinking, he blurted out the question that has been relaying in his mind over and over again.
“I want her address, you have it don’t you?” Yang Yang asked, he swore this would be the last thing he asks for today, he doesn’t want to invade too much of your privacy, just enough to satisfy his thirst for you.
“Now that’s another price,” the man leaned back with a smug smile on his ugly face.
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Yang Yang hasn’t ever spent one million won purely on information, not even in the industry he’s in.
Yang Yang finds himself in your dorm’s neighbourhood, but there’s three convenience stores in the area, he wonders if you prefer cu or emart, he’s currently in cu, it’s less flashy and smaller in size, if he was an idol, he’d definitely pick this one.
He’s not in the store yet, waiting in the car, with his phone to zoom in whenever he sees a female figure coming through his vicinity, but none of them were you, all of them had their hoods down, so they’re definitely not you, Yang Yang would recognise your face even if he lost all memory of who he was himself.
It was until when he saw a familiar phone case in a hooded figure’s delicate hands, then he knew, he recognises your new case, the one with fake gummy bears at the back.
Yang Yang immediately springs out of his car, slamming the door shut before quickly jogging inside the convenience store, his body slacks in comfort of the heating but his focus heightens, trying to see where you were.
That’s when he sees you, crouched in the corner, a hand on your knee, contemplating which ramyeon to get, Yang Yang has to stop himself from cooing at the cute sight. Yang Yang makes himself look busy by picking through what ramyeon he wants, as an excuse to execute the plan he’s formulated for almost a week.
When you stood up to pay, he quickly grabs the one he had decided on since he had laid eyes on the selections, he was just waiting for you, he went up to pay first when he sees you making a beeline for the cashier.
He ‘tries’ to pay with his kaokaopay, the keyword ‘tries’ because he knows there’s no credit in that e wallet anymore, and did he purposely forget his wallet? Of course he did.
“Damn it, I forgot to top up and my wallet’s left at home,” Yang Yang curses to himself, but loud enough to let you pick it up.
“No worries, I’ll pay,” you say, thrusting your phone to the scanner, flashing him a kind smile that shows on your eyes, your beautiful lips hidden by the mask you had adorned to conceal your identity.
“Thank you so much,” Yang Yang says with a polite bow, “Is there a way I could pay you back?” Yang Yang asks, taking your items to the instant ramyeon station, opening your packet and his to fill up the plastic bowls with hot water.
“Maybe you could pay for my noodles the next time we see each other here,” you suggested, taking your bowl of ramyeon, walking to an empty table, away from the windows.
“Deal,” Yang Yang agreed, taking a seat across you, “I’m new to this country, so I don’t know many people, it’d be nice to have a face to be familiarise with, are you a foreigner too?” Yang Yang pried, as if he didn’t know the answers to those basic questions.
“Yup! But I’ve been here for a few years now, it’s really hard at first, the difference of culture and language really sets us foreigners aside, doesn’t it?” you ask, of course, you might be wrong, some people adapt really well to the local culture, Seoul is easier than other smaller cities according to your seniors.
“Yeah, I’m here cuz my company transferred me here, it was really a bummer at first, what about you? Career reasons too, I guess?” Yang Yang easily strikes up a conversation, he’s very much an introvert, but around the people he clicks with? It’s like a breeze for him, and to him, you and him are two missing puzzle pieces waiting to be pieced together.
“Yeah, do I look too old to be a college student?” you asked jokingly, this is a nice change, the feeling of being a stranger to someone again, maybe meeting, wait, you haven’t caught his name.
“No, but you don’t have a bag with you to study, and most college kids will bring their food back home to eat while studying, you seem to have more time on your hands than a college kid, so I just assumed, unless you are?”
“Nope,” you said, finishing your noodles, you peered over to his, almost empty too, “but you look a bit young to be transferred over so quickly,” you commented.
“Yeah, it’s my uncle’s business, and he wanted some help, I didn’t have any plans after graduation, so I had to take up the offer, or my dad would have my head,” another lie, but this is how he has to do if he wants to be your friend, and to his greediness, something more even.
“Wow, your family must have really high hopes for you,” you complimented, picking up after yourselves, you’re going to leave soon, you still have afternoon practice tomorrow, and you don’t want to go into the company looking like a zombie.
“I guess, I’ll see you soon...
You give him your name while he holds the door open for you, he seems to be such a gentleman, a rare sight these days.
“Yang Yang, it’s a pleasure meeting you, get home soon, even from a newbie, I could tell Seoul isn’t the safest,” he said, looking back at you to see that you covered your head with your hoodie and your face with a mask once again.
“You too, till we meet again, Yang Yang,” you said, walking to the direction of your dorms.
Yang Yang watches you from afar before deciding to follow you, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he found out you were attacked, and so he keeps a distance with your figure, up until you stepped into your dorm’s compounds, and now he can go back home for a peaceful sleep, knowing that you’re safe.
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Yang Yang had made the effort, given if his schedule and job allowed, to go to that same convenience store every night, and 50% of the time, he’d bump into you, he’d brush it off as a coincidence, citing that he lives very nearby, and of course you never doubted him, it was an almost 100% housing area anyways, and you did meet him in this very same convenience store many nights ago, and so the two of you became friends.
You never really talked about your life, you had lied that you were just a girl fresh out of college being pushed into the corporate world like a fish into a tank of sharks, which wasn’t all that false, instead of saying your managers and staff were rude to you, you’d change it to your seniors at your office, just a small white lie.
Yang Yang wasn’t mad in the slightest of course, if you had revealed your identity to him, you probably wouldn’t have made friends with him or even talk to him if he had made himself known to have recognised you that very first night.
Yang Yang had spun a web of lies upon lies just to make you happy, not like you didn’t contribute into any of the web making, but Yang Yang really tries to make himself as honest as he could be, like how he had recently moved out of his penthouse in Gangnam to live in this very neighbourhood he had claimed he had lived in since day 1, he doesn’t like lying to you, but if lying is what’s keeping you here beside him, he’d take it.
“Hey, why don’t we exchange numbers? Then we don’t need to limit our conversations in this convenience store, and we can even text each other to see if we’re coming here,” you suggested, handing over your unlocked phone for him to key in his number, an unlocked phone, an idol’s greatest fear, but here you were, entrusting your whole career in his hands.
“Sure.”
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The early signs of autumn crept up to you in the form of a chilly breeze tonight after having yet another late night convenience store run with Yang Yang, you were walking a little bit further behind to avoid the chances of someone recognising you in your neighbourhood and exposing Yang Yang’s identity, which is why you heard the telltale signs of shuffling of footsteps.
You quickly looked back to see who it was, and the sight nearly made you shit your pants, it was a tall burly man who was wearing a cap even though it’s completely dark out, you’ve been told that sasaengs are often identified through this sort of attire during this timing because rarely anyone wears a cap at night in Seoul unless they’re fellow celebrities, and the keychain of your group’s logo hanging by the side of his fanny pack tells you otherwise.
You quickly dragged Yang Yang into an alley when the two of you rounded a familiar cornering.
“There’s someone following me, we need to run and hide,” you said to a very confused looking Yang Yang, obvious distress in the tone of your voice.
Yang Yang heeds to your warning immediately, pulling you to hide behind a row of large recycling bins, hands holding onto yours when he sees how panic stricken you looked.
After a few minutes, Yang Yang gets up to check if the coast was clear, telling you to stand up when he confirmed no one was following you anymore.
“Why was that guy following you? Do you owe loan sharks money or something?” Yang Yang asked, acting oblivious.
“No...Yang, there’s something I need to tell you, about my identity, please don’t be mad that I’ve been lying to you, I just thought it’d be easier that way, I never thought something like this would happen. The man who was following us is probably one of my fans, and he was probably dangerous because he didn’t carry any camera or had his phone out, those are the obvious signs of a crazy sasaeng, what I’m trying to say is that....I’m an idol of a quite famous group in kpop, I’m sorry I lied about my job, I just wanted a genuine friend who won’t care how famous I am, I just didn’t expect I’d put you into this sort of danger without your permission, and I understand if you don’t want to be my friend anymore, I know there’s risks to being an idol’s-
“Don’t, I’m glad to be your friend, so don’t ever say that, and imagine if I wasn’t here tonight, he might’ve gotten to you and god knows what he’ll do to you, so don’t apologise, I’m happy to be by your side,” Yang Yang said after he had pulled you in for a hug, his presence and touch comforting you and your running mind, “how about I walk you home instead of saying goodbye at the intersection?” Yang Yang asked, to which you nodded enthusiastically, grateful to have met someone as caring and as accepting as Yang Yang.
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As time has passed, that night’s events never left your mind, both in a bad light and a good one because that act of Yang Yang ushering you to safety had etched in your mind permanently, the scene unfolding itself whenever you zone out because to you, that was your very own kdrama moment, Yang Yang being your knight in shining armour and you being the damsel in distress.
Though it might be a hard pill to swallow in everyone else’s eyes that it was all an act, one that Yang Yang had planned it meticulously with a hefty sum of money, hiring the actor who played your ‘stalker’, and on top of that, paying for his non-disclosure agreement. Yang Yang needed you to fall for him, and through your old interviews of the dramas you were watching, he had grown to know what man you would fall for, and most of those dramas had a scene of the female lead being saved, most of the time you’d watch thriller dramas, which would explain why.
Yang Yang knows what he did was wrong, that he had scared you that night, but to him, this was some sort of warning, to let you know that even if it wasn’t him, there’s a huge possibility of you encountering crazy fans like this, he wants you to depend on him for safety, just the two of you now, having one of your convenience store runs again, but instead of just some random meet up, now he can call these dates, the two of you now have your impromptu suppers at another convenience store, you feared that the crazy fan would come back to get you after an unsuccessful attempt that night, Yang Yang even suggested to drive out to the next neighbourhood, which you’re very much grateful for.
Dating Yang Yang was a skeptical decision on your end, having to dodge your members as well as your managers was hard, you had trained your face not to smile as well as switching apps at 0.1 seconds whenever someone tries looking over your shoulder to see who you were texting, but Yang Yang makes you immensely happy in this lonely career of yours.
Speaking of which, you had asked Yang Yang out for ramyeon after you saw a notice of one of your most loyal fansites, MienYang, closing down.
“Why did they close it, babe? I thought you said they were relatively new to your fandom,” Yang Yang asks, as if he doesn’t know.
“I checked their twitter, apparently they’re leaving overseas for university, so they can’t go to my official schedules and stuff anymore,” you say, a pout unknowingly making its way on your lips, “they’re one of the non-sasaeng fansites, it’s sad to see someone who respects me as a person and as an idol go, you know?” you said, thinking aloud mostly, of course you love all the other non-sasaeng fansites, but MienYang has always gifted you sentimental gifts, like food trucks of your favourite snacks whenever there’s some sort of filming or official schedule, even flowers of your favourite kind, and not to mention your entire monitor set up in your dorm only after one mindless complaint you made about the processor that one time on live.
“Hey, don’t be too upset about it, I’m sure they’re still supporting you by other means wherever they are on the globe, think of it on a brighter side, they got in the university they wanted, isn’t that something worth being happy for? Your dearest fan having an education for themselves?” Yang Yang comforts you, reaching a hand over to grasp yours, smiling at you across the table, his eyes pleading for you to cheer up, he never likes seeing you upset.
“Yeah, of course I am, I think I just have attachment issues when it comes to my fans, especially if I knew they were dedicating their free time and even their wealth at a time like this, I’m grateful for all of them, no matter how much money they’d spent, but to know that this fansite spent their hard earned money on me was just... I’m just really grateful, you know? It’s not about the money, but the hard work behind every one of their gifts and events, sorry, I’m rambling and I sound a bit too deserving at the moment, but I just wish I could do more for them, to repay what they had gifted me over the course of this period,” you said, eyes staring mindlessly at the cup of banana milk in front of you, “It’s a crazy thought but I sometimes wish I could clone more of me so every single fan out there would have a chance to meet me, sometimes I see posts of fans span across the globe saying they were dying to meet me, their yearning breaks my heart, I just want to bring joy to their life.”
“So that’s why you do lives so often,” Yang Yang notes, you truly are an angel, you didn’t need to put up the act of a kind hearted idol in front of him, you know he as a boyfriend, would never judge you for purely treating this idol thing as a career, but you’re not like that, you really have a golden heart.
“Yeah, sometimes I’m scared I annoy them, I turn on lives when I’m eating alone, during practice breaks, when I’m bored at night, I wonder if they think I do it too often,” you said with a chuckle, recounting the many times where your fans had suggested you to just open a mukbang channel.
“Nah, it’s cute to see you eat, sometimes I tune in if I was having lunch alone in the office too,” Yang Yang said with a tilt of his head, eyes darting to the ice cream fridge, a bit shy about confessing that this.
“You do??? Oh god, I look cringe, don’t I?” you said before breaking out a nervous laugh, not finding it weird that your boyfriend would just randomly drop in on your lives.
“Nah, you’re definitely mukbang material, I feel full even by just watching you eat, that’s a charm not many have, most idols just try to act overly cute when they eat, now that’s cringe,” Yang Yang said, reassuring you, it was the truth though, “it is in fact a joy to see you eat, and I bet your other fans agree too,” if the amount of times you trended on twitter for eating wasn’t enough of an evidence.
“You’re just saying that cuz you’re my boyfriend, Yang,” you said before finishing up your banana milk, starting to clean up the trash of containers and plastic utensil wrappers, you were always the responsible one, whenever your group mates leave a group live or some recorded programme to do something else, you’d always stay back to help the staff clean up, just like how you are now, and so Yang Yang stops you, taking the remaining trash from your hands and cleans the rest of it, not much of it left of course, you’re always a quick one.
“Yup, I’m your boyfriend, so would you please stop picking up after ourselves? Let me do it, you had a long day,” Yang Yang chides before retreating to the dustbin, carefully sorting whatever that could be recycled into their respective bins, he doesn’t want to get an earful from you.
“Thank you,” you said, meeting him at the door that he was holding open for you, “you always treat me like a princess,” you said, cheeks heating up at the realisation.
“Because you are my princess, now let’s fetch you back to your dorms before my car turns into a pumpkin Cinderella,” Yang Yang jokes, opening the passenger door for you.
“It’s already 1 a.m., Yang!”
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The man hits the wall beside the big household rubbish bin with a loud thud, the sound of the back of skull coming into the brick isn’t pretty one, but it’s a beautiful melody in Yang Yang’s ears, a menacing smile appears under the thick layer of his medical mask, to conceal his identity of course.
“Are you crazy, you bastard?!” that shitbag of stalker of yours spits out, a hand holding the back of head, his facial features constricting in pain, “like you’re not a sasaeng too! You fucking hypocrite!”
Yang Yang pulls out a switch blade from the back of his pocket, releasing the sharp end, he chokes the man to keep him vulnerable under his control, knife coming dangerously close to the spot where he punched the man, he wonders how it’d look to cut open a swollen bruise.
“I’m protecting her from fuckers like you! Do you see me carrying a huge ass camera, walking around broadcasting her whole life on the internet?!” Yang Yang retorts, his fingers closing dangerously around his jugular, “if I see you again, you won’t be leaving without a scratch, you hear me?” Yang Yang warns, the knife he holds coming close to the eye of the scumbag, he’ll take his eye out as a third warning if he catches him lurking around again.
“Yes, I hear you! I’m sorry, just please let me go! I swear I’ll never stalk her ever again!” the man tried his best to look apologetic and bow his head down as far as the hand constricting allows him.
Yang Yang frees him from his grip, eyes watching him scram, tail tucked between his two legs, Yang Yang breathes a sigh of relief, this is probably the last of them, he’s still in the group chat and he knows what they say about him, the crazy sasaeng, the group chats he’s in has warn the members of your sasaengs about him, dubbed as the craziest fan you’ve ever had to date, and Yang Yang is more than proud to have this title.
He folds back the knife into the safety of his jacket and pulls out his phone, pressing onto your contact that’s on his speed dial.
“Hey babe, I’m done with work and I’m in your area, are you still in the convenience store? How about you sleep over my place? I haven’t spent much time with you these days,” Yang Yang says with a borderline aegyo voice that he knows gets you to budge every single time.
“Okay, okay, do you want me to get you anything though? They still have chicken katsu today, let me ask if it’s from tonight or this afternoon,” you mumbled to yourself.
“Thank you, baby, take your time, I’ll be waiting in my car outside the store,” Yang Yang said before hanging up, he can’t wait to see you.
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“The worker didn’t lie right? It looks fresh,” you commented as you watch Yang Yang eat in earnest, he always acts like that when he eats, and the idiot always says it’s only because of you, and that even a walnut would feel like a full meal if he’s eating it in your presence.
“Yeah, it’s fresh, you want a bite?” Yang Yang asks, offering you his chicken.
“No, I had chicken in the company today, I would’ve cooked you noodles if the chicken turned out to be from the afternoon, you’ve been working late so often these days,” you said while brushing his bangs out of his eyes to get a better look at the eyebags under his pretty doe eyes.
“It’s okay, just training some new people up, then I’ll have more time for you in the future, and it’s better to plan ahead, I want to have a secure future for you, you can have fun performing without financial worries when you become more of a senior, do what you want to do, what you don’t get enough time to do now, what you didn’t get to experience as a trainee, that’s my end goal,” Yang Yang said, his heart jumping in jitters, this isn’t the first time the two of you have expressed the desire to be together forever, the first time this topic came up, you were talking about how Yang Yang’s room might not have enough closet space for your coats in the future.
“Yang, I never dated you with the expectation of you providing for me, not that I’m against it, but I know you have wishes too-
“I had a really fulfilling childhood, trust me, and I’m having lots of fun in my 20s now, but you’re always working so hard, and I know you enjoy most of it, but there’s so much you haven’t done, and this is my wish too, to make you the happiest person in my life,” Yang Yang said in all sincerity, the silly and carefree Yang Yang you’ve grown to know has disappeared now, leaving him vulnerable, baring his soul in front of you.
“Thank you, Yang Yang, I love you,” you said, tackling to the corner of the couch, he almost lost his grip on his chicken, but he’d sacrifice chicken katsu for your hugs any day.
“I love you too, you sappy idiot, you go wash up first, I’ll join you after you leave me in peace to finish my food,” Yang Yang says before he takes a huge bite of said chicken, a hand nudging you softly to the direction of his bedroom.
“Okay, be quick though,” you said, leaving for his room, and Yang Yang to his own train of thoughts.
When Yang Yang first dived into being your fan, he noticed how you’d always tuck yourself in the corner, not very interactive in group contents, especially in your rookie days, but slowly, you settled into the idea of being a public figure, you realised your shy personality had garnered a decent amount of fans that, ‘idol standards wise’, you needed to start engaging with your fans in a solo manner to actually build up your career, at first you were a bit closed off, and not really knowing what to talk to the fans about, but slowly, you started opening up about yourself, and now being in a relationship with Yang Yang, a comfortable validation of your personality now exists in your mind, and needless to say, whatever reason it maybe, your fans are happy that you’re flourishing and now your fan base is growing at a fast pace, Yang Yang is happy for you, even if he needs to tell people to scram every other night, but it’s slowly trickling down to one every few weeks, only a dumbass once in a blue moon dares to challenge him nowadays.
Yang Yang sighs to himself, a mix of emotions, relief, love, and maybe a hint of pride, and comfort knowing that on screen you and off screen you aren’t all that different, you’re only extroverted around him and your members, sometimes he worries that you don’t have enough friends, but Yang Yang isn’t all that much better, only a handful of close friends back in his student days in Germany, maybe he should visit them soon, but he worries for your safety if he’s gone.
“Hey, you done, babe?” you ask, walking out, spotting the oily paper bag discarded on the coffee table.
“Yup, go wait for me on the bed, rest your legs, you must’ve had a long day of practice,” Yang Yang chides, heading into the ensuite bathroom to wash up.
“Nah, it was mostly vocals today, and don’t worry, I drank honey, just as you told me,” you added when you saw Yang Yang looking at you expectantly, satisfaction blooming in your chest when you see Yang Yang nodding proudly, tooth paste foam and the brush sticking out of his mouth comically, you could wake up and go to bed with this sight.
When Yang Yang finally joins you, you wrap your limbs around his lean body, sighing in comfort at the warmth his body provides, he’s always felt like a walking human heater to you.
“What’s with the sudden burst of affection?” Yang Yang teases.
“Nothing, just missed you,” you mumbled into his chest, inhaling the comforting scent of his laundry detergent, “I’ll wait for you in bed,” you mumbled before walking away.
Yang Yang’s shoulders sag in relief, the thought of cuddling you to bed immediately relieving him of the stress he had felt from the whole day.
Yang Yang lets himself under the blanket, greeted by your arms around him,  you had always loved spooning him, out of habit from all the big plushie you had always cuddled to sleep, you can’t go to bed without hugging something, Yang Yang lacks the softness you’re used to, but the warmth he provides is just as comforting.
Although the thought of falling asleep right now is more than tempting, you think it’s time to take the next step in your relationship, and as an adult as a whole.
“Hey Yang, do you ever think about like taking our relationship to the next stage?” you ask mindlessly, you might not get anything out of this, it’s been a long day for your hardworking boyfriend, and you understand, there are somedays where you don’t wanna do anything after work either.
“What do you mean? Like marriage? If so then no take backs cuz I’m in this shit for life, babe,” Yang Yang jokes, tickling at your sides, his touches with you are always innocent, there’s no need to rush, especially after hearing what you just said.
“No, Yang, I meant like, you know, physical affection?” you say as your eyes dart away from his searching ones, ever the observing boyfriend, he always wants to read your emotions through the windows of your soul, something he picked up from his mom growing up when he throws tantrums and she wants to understand his frustration.
“You want more kisses?” Yang Yang asks, apology on the tip of his tongue, he must’ve been so busy these few weeks that you feel neglected.
“No, no, like,” you’re running out of words and you’d bite your own tongue before saying the word sex in front of your boyfriend who’s had a few girlfriends, but you’re desperate to see what he feels about this, so you take his wrist into your hands, placing his palm on your breast.
It was merely flesh biology wise, and that’s how Yang Yang felt about it with his exes, he’s always been much more of an ass guy, but this slight touch, he felt electric shocks going up his back before he came to his senses and pulled his hand away, as if he was burnt by your touch.
“Baby...” Yang Yang trails off, his sentences not forming, he swears that one touch permanently fried parts of his brain, but you take his hesitance as rejection, which sends Yang Yang into a worried frenzy, that’s definitely not what he meant.
“No, baby, I’m not opposed to what you’re proposing, but are you sure you’re ready? This is a huge step for you, isn’t it? I want you to think this through and not have any regrets,” Yang Yang explains, his tone so reassuring, apologetic even.
“I’m sure, Yang, we’ve been together for almost a year, and you’ve always been the best to me, taking care of me, making sure I have my meals, putting up with my hectic schedule without any complaints, then I realised, I really want to feel your love in a physical form, humans are curious creatures, I want all of you, to bask in your love,” you said with so much sincerity it might make Yang Yang cry if you don’t stop with your beautiful words, which is so ironic because most of the times he’s pictured engaging in sex with you, most times the scenarios in his head are so fucking filthy, and here you are, proposing to make love, and suddenly all those desires disappear from his forefront, if making love is what you want, then what’s he’ll give you.
Yang Yang cages you between his body and his bed, a smile that holds several emotions casting through his pupils, lust, mischief, love, adoration, he’s definitely going haywire with these strong emotions.
Yang Yang grows hard in his jeans when he felt your eager hands explore his body, until your knuckles knock against something hard in his jacket’s pocket, Yang Yang freezes up, brain going on overdrive to find every possible excuse and decipher which is the best to use.
“Yang, why do you have-
Your agile fingers press the button, the swish of a knife molding a new type of tension between the two of you.
“Babe, be careful with that,” Yang Yang chides, slowly prying the knife out of your hands to put it at the farthest corner of his nightstand, “I started carrying a switch blade after that time when we bumped into your sasaeng, just in case I need to protect you,” Yang Yang said, another white lie, it wasn’t a complete lie, this thing is used to ward off your sasaengs, just in a more proactive manner, and morally grey of course.
“Yangie..” you cooed, “that’s so sweet, thank you for trying to protect me, but most of my sasaeng fans have stopped pursuing me,” you said, not one hint of disgust on your face, maybe you just think he’s using it as a prop to ward off fans that get aggressive physically.
“Of course, got to be the best boyfriend amongst all your peers, you know, got to make my girl, proud,” Yang Yang trails on, his worry quickly dissipating from his mind.
“I’m sure everyone would be jealous of me for having a boyfriend like you, Yang,” you said before kissing him, your hands continuing their journey, you’re getting a bit rushed, stripping Yang Yang of his jacket and trailing your hands up his toned stomach, your eyes glazed when you realised Yang Yang is hiding a set off abs underneath his baggy sweaters.
“Wow, wait, hold on a sec, baby, you’re going so fast,” Yang Yang said, exasperated at the pace you’re setting, swiftly pulling your hands down from his shirt.
“I thought you wanted to make love, baby, making love is slow-
“I don’t think I want that anymore, Yang, I’ve been waiting for this for too long, aren’t you impatient to touch me too?” you asked with those puppy eyes of yours, and who is Yang Yang to deny you, he’s a man after all.
Yang Yang quickly strips off his shirt to let you know that he is impatient for your touch, he’s waited since the day he saw your concert, he’s been waiting for so long, training his endurance towards your little touches, but your one look is pushing him past his limits, your bedroom eyes are Yang Yang’s weakness, the first time he’s seen them when you were performing had him hooked, he knew you weren’t innocent, but he hadn’t known you were a virgin, that’s just even sexier of you, to value yourself so highly, yet so shy at times, this is what he calls duality.
Yang Yang throws his shirt off to somewhere, eager to please you, but a certain metallic sound caught his attention, his eyes spy that the switch blade wasn’t that far away anymore, must be the drag of his shirt, so he moves away to retrieve it, opening the drawer, planning to just chuck the thing in, it’s better to be safe than sorry, but before he could let go of the blade, your delicate fingers wrap around his wrist.
“Yang, could we try something with the knife? I read something in one of my romance books once and I always wanted to recreate it with you,” you said timidly, but eyes full of lust, and Yang Yang swears his dick just twitched hearing you say those words.
“You know, babe, usually people bring up knife kink after their first time, hell, not even a second time,” Yang Yang says before chuckling to himself, he never thought tonight would turn out this way.
“Well, I don’t want my first time to be boring like other people, I want it to be like that mafia love story I just finished, come on, it’ll be fun, I mean it looked fun....in my head,” you were trailing off, bashful, is how you would describe this moment’s feelings.
“Okay, okay, no more laughing and joking then, let me get my head in the game, I need to exceed your expectations,” Yang Yang said with one last cheeky smile on his face before turning serious, “so I need you to stop laughing and feeling embarrassed too, okay? And let me know if you want to stop, since you read so much, I’m sure you know of the traffic light system.”
You nod your head, immediately feeling submissive under Yang Yang’s dominant gaze and switch of a tone.
Yang Yang unsheathes the blade by pressing onto the button, the shiny knife once again captures your attention, you could feel your panties sticking to your core.
“I need you to hold still, baby, can I ruin your clothes?” Yang Yang asks, he doesn’t want to trigger any sort of bad reaction from you.
“Yeah, go ahead, as long as you don’t miss them,” you reminded him, it’s his shirt after all.
Yang Yang nods in understanding, eyes hyperfocused on the blade, he traces the curve of your bottom lip with it, careful to not apply too much pressure, he’d never let you bleed, Yang Yang would never hurt what he most cherishes, so he tests the blade on your lips first, knowing that it hurts a lot less to have an accidental cut there than on actual skin, he’d know from all those years of shaving in a rush before classes, once he gets a hold of how much pressure to use, he moves on, trailing the blade down your jaw, to the juncture of your neck, the expanse of untainted skin tempting him to mark you up, but he knows he can’t, he wouldn’t put your job on the line, and so he lingers a bit longer on your neck, tracing a Y on your neck to make up for the fact that he can’t actually mark it.
When you felt the tracing of his initials, you feel a shudder run down your spine, you have always been attracted to Yang Yang’s subtle possessiveness, and the fact that he’s also like this in bed is such a turn on to you, you swear your panties are far beyond ruined at this point, which makes you wonder if he’s going to cut those too.
Your trail of thought was cut short when Yang Yang suddenly speeds up the process, bunching your shirt up, he cuts through the fabric with the blade, the the sound of shearing cotton amplifying the tingles in your core, an unconscious moan of his name leaves your lips, drawing Yang Yang’s attention away from your bosoms to your face, he wonders if you’d fall into subspace, he’s not against it, but it’s best that you don’t, this is your first time after all, so he sets the blade aside at a far corner of his nightstand once more, he’d get back to that once he anchors you back to him.
"Are you still with me, baby? Can I have a colour?" Yang Yang asks, his hands grasping your face gently, doe eyes staring into yours, trying to decipher which state of mind you're in.
"Green, I'm okay, don't worry," you say after a bit, slightly dazed by the display of carnal lust from your lover.
"Can I continue, baby?" He just needs to hear your consent, even though it's quite obvious that the gleam in your eyes are of yearning.
"Yes."
Yang Yang takes your consent as green light to show your breasts the attention they deserve, showering them in kisses before venturing into playful licks of your nipple while his other hand tries its best to mimic his mouth's ministrations, sending pleasurable shocks southwards, you would've been worried about ruining his sheets if Yang Yang wasn't such a distraction.
Just as you grew used to the feeling of his kitten licks, Yang Yang switches up the tempo, he now moves to your other breast, but instead of the gentle kisses, you are welcomed by light painless nicks, you whimper at the contact of his teeth, you divert your eyes to your lover, when Yang Yang sees your eyes on him, he proceeds to bite onto your nipple, pulling at it slightly before letting go.
"Fuck," you muttered, eyes shutting at the thrilling feeling of having your nipples played this way, you've never predicted Yang Yang to be like this in bed, and needless to say, you love this surprising side of him.
"Naughty girl, didn't think you'd enjoy that this much," Yang Yang said with a light spank to your inner thigh, making your legs jolt up at the sensitivity, god this man is going to drive you mad if he doesn't hurry up and fuck you.
"Please Yang, I need you to do more, I need you inside me," you begged, your pride's left your body completely.
"Since you begged so nicely, baby," Yang Yang said with a hum, contemplating of what to do next.
When Yang Yang pulls away, you whine at the loss of his warmth and familiar weight of his torso on your body.
"I'm not going anywhere, I'll never leave you hanging, baby," Yang Yang said before returning to your side with the blade, "but there's something in my way from your sweet pussy, baby," Yang Yang said with a mischievous smile before you hear the sound of shredding fabric once more, a gust of wind immediately hits your drenched core, you swear you feel goosebumps arise, "there, all better," Yang Yang says before diving in like a starved man, his fingers spreading your folds apart to show your clit the same amount of attention and care he gave to your breasts.
Your back arches at the onward assault on your most sensitive bundle of nerves, Yang Yang really knows how to use his mouth, which makes you wonder how long he's wanted to do this.
When he's deemed you more than wet, he dips a finger into your core, slowly moving it around, trying to grasp your reactions, at a particular angle, you gasp at the particularly sensitive spot.
Bingo.
Yang Yang lets you adjust to the feeling of having one finger before he slips in another, giddily watching the way you swallow up his fingers almost effortlessly, a boost to his ego, but of course, your safety and pleasure comes first.
But soon, you're getting impatient, you nudge Yang Yang with a knee when he was too distracted by the meal in front of him, you don't blame him for not hearing you when he has his mouth and fingers busy, you think he even added a third, but that doesn't matter to you, because you really need him to hurry up before you go insane.
"Yang Yang, please, I need you to be inside me, you prepped me for so long, it should be your turn now, let me feel all of you, please...
Something in Yang Yang snaps when he hears the desperation in your words, a realisation at the fact that you really need him, now.
"I'm sorry baby, just wanted to make sure you're ready for me," Yang Yang says as he strips down to nothing, baring his beautiful body to you, your eyes immediately drop to the part between his legs, of course he's well endowed, Yang Yang is perfect in your eyes.
"My eyes are up here, baby," Yang Yang says with a playful chuckle before kissing your temple.
"Sorry, it's just that, my boyfriend's really sexy, you know," you say, joining his playful banter.
"Glad that you think so, my sexy girlfriend," Yang Yang says before he takes your hand into his, linking your fingers together.
"Are you really ready, baby? It's never too late to back out," Yang Yang reminds you.
"Nope, not backing out," you reassured him.
"Okay... Then as a reminder, I'm going to repeat this once more, if any point, and I mean any point, that you do not wish to continue, just say red, and I'll immediately stop and pull out, okay?"
"Okay," you agreed, your chest filled with an immense amount of love and pride over the man you call your lover, being ever the gentlemen towards you.
"I love you," you said, because it just felt right.
"I love you too, but no more confessions or I'm going to feel too sappy to do this, baby," Yang Yang says before putting a serious face back on, he needs to focus on making you feel good tonight.
"You're adapting far quicker than I thought you would," Yang Yang says with a playful snicker. "Stop teasing and just keep going, Yang," you say, your hands covering your face, you could feel the blood rush into your cheeks, just like the arousal between your legs. "You're so fucking cute," Yang Yang muses, "but I want to hear a please, be my good girl for me," Yang Yang wanting to coaxe out of you. "Please." That one word has Yang Yang reaching for the knife again, his eyes locking into your drenched panties, bunching up the material, he cuts the knife through it, the flimsy material ripped to shreds. "Yang!" you scold, but it came out as more a moan, you can't help it, you're so turned on by the sight of Yang Yang holding a knife in this manner, a sight that you thought you'd only see in your wildest dreams. "Don't worry, baby, I'll buy you new ones, as many as you want," Yang Yang promises, sealing the promise with a kiss to the hood of your core, making your legs shiver.  
You arch your hips into his touch, urging him to put his mouth on your core, Yang Yang obliges, enveloping your lower lips with his. The feeling of his tongue slowly sliding its way into you was a feeling you've never expected, it wasn't anything that your small toy collection was ever able to mimic, the way the rough surface of his tongue touches your sensitive walls would've made your legs shut if it wasn't for Yang Yang holding them open, his thumb mindlessly rubbing circles around your inner thigh, igniting all your senses, especially when you close your eyes when you near your release, your body convulses in pleasure, a mantra of please's and his name falling out of your lips in a hushed tone, slowly breaking out of your shy exterior, bit by bit, your voice grows louder, until the dams broke, a loud cry resonating through the bedroom.  
Meanwhile, Yang Yang eagerly slurps up all your sweet nectar, you pry your eyes open to not miss the scene, catching the sight of his Adam's apple bobbing, his eyes shut, concentrating on your taste on his tongue. When he's had his fill, he looks up from his spot from between your legs, a dazed smile on his face. "Hi," he says, so casual as if he just didn't give you a mind blowing orgasm with just his tongue and his fingers, "you still wanna continue? we can stop if you want-
But you break him off when you get up from your spot and kiss his lips, the taste of him on you was weird, but so fucking good. "Go ahead, Yang, please," you beg, remembering his words.  
"Okay, but you remember right? Anything you don't like, say red," Yang Yang's never been long winded, but with you? He'd go to all lengths. You nod, eyes locked onto his, you see the lust swimming in those orbs, but also weariness, you feel a sense of security settling in when you see how careful Yang Yang is. Yang Yang brushes your cheek with a thumb before he takes a hand to grasp himself, your eyes train to Yang Yang's hips, swallowing a lump down your throat when you see how big he is, not very long, but thicker than what you had imagined, Yang Yang positions his cock at your core, he slowly slides in, inch by inch, scanning your face for any sort of discomfort, there's bound to be some, as he sees your face all scrunched up, but he won't stop unless you said so, he doesn't want to spoil the mood, and chooses to trust your judgement. When he finally fills you to the brim, you let out a gasp when you feel the slight prickle of hair.  
You feel Yang Yang’s hands caressing your face, the other is situated at your clit, hoping that the constant stream of pleasure would be able to relieve the ache and slight burn between your legs, you knew it was inevitable, to not feel any pain at all would be unrealistic, and you appreciate Yang Yang for being patient and going beyond that to help ease the ache.
Once the slight sting fades away, you feel your walls starting to get wetter from the switch of stimulation from pain to pleasure.
“You can move now, Yang, it doesn’t hurt anymore,” you tell him, nearly not recognising your own voice as it’s dripped in eagerness for more.
“Okay, I’ll go slow, tell me when you want me to pick up the pace,” Yang Yang says before slipping part of his cock out to thrust back in, immediately you clench around him, the feeling so foreign, but most ideal, the way you felt every inch of him, you can only describe it as euphoric.
Yang Yang struggles not to cum, the way you clench around him feels so good, but he won’t be able to last long if you keep this up.
“I need you to unclench, baby, or II won’t be able to perform at my best for you, and relax, sex shouldn’t be rushed and have you on your nerves, it should be relaxing, let me show you, take care of you,” Yang Yang says before furrowing his eyebrows to continue moving his hips, angling his cock at the angle of your sensitive spot, and instantly, he feels your nails digging into his arm, a shriek of his name tumbling from your lips, the action catching his attention, the sight of your swollen lips enticing him, so he swallows up your moans as he quickens the pace, a hand slithering down slyly to your bundle of nerves, once again aiming for an onslaught attack of sweet pleasure that has you arching your back into Yang Yang’s hold succumbing you into a pleasure-filled mess, incoherent blabbers and moans filling his mind, Yang Yang catches a few words, big, deep, so good, and all of them do nothing but encourage him to bring you to the edge faster, snapping his hips onto yours, his thrusts beginning to deepen and slow down slightly, he’s only human after all, but he gives your clit a few light pinches in retaliation, a whimper sounds from you beneath him before he feels you falling apart around him.
You struggle to keep your eyes open as you were pushed over the edge, but you reminded yourself that you need to see Yang Yang falling apart for you, and so you beg, “want you to cum too, Yang, please,” you plead between whines and moans as he rides out your high for you, that sweet sweet voice of yours is what makes Yang Yang crumble, masking a moan by biting down on his lips, he lets go, filling up your core with his seed, not pulling out until he finishes, the tension leaving his body.
Yang Yang looked so beautiful when he reached his peak, you’ve always thought his Adam’s apple was sexy, but when he threw his head back and breathed heavily, the sight of it bobbing was such a turn on, distracted by the memory looping in your head, you were pulled out of your daze when Yang Yang gently manoeuvred himself out of your walls, watching him watch the way his cum drips onto your thighs, not knowing he was caught staring until he looks up to see you watching him with your head cocked to the side.
“That was sexy, don’t blame me, I’m just a dude with fantasies,” Yang Yang jokes while pulling out a few tissues from the box, cleaning you up.
“I don’t mind, I think it’s sexy that you’re into it, but as sexy as it is, please carry me to the tub, I don’t think I’d be able to move around for a few hours,” you said, arms already spread, awaiting your princess treatment from your ever doting boyfriend.
“I’ll set up the tub and I’ll come get you, take a nap if you want,” Yang Yang says, rounding the corner of his bed to come give you a peck before taking his leave, the sight of his small but bubbly butt making you giggle.
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Keeping things under warps isn't easy when you're an idol, which is no surprise when your manager caught you going into Yang Yang's car one night outside your dorm when you planned to sleepover. You had to come clean about your relationship to your label and they weren't too happy about it, but in their words, a better case than the rest of your label mates, since the fans and tabloids haven't caught wind and the fact that Yang Yang is a businessman, yes he told you that it wasn’t his uncle’s company, but his! You made Yang Yang promise that he can’t keep anymore secrets from you, but coming back to your company, maybe they think this sort of relationship levels up your status as well as the label's, is your good guess. Other than that, your career has been advancing smoothly, you toured a few cities, Yang Yang had insisted on tagging along to Osaka and the states, for the food, he says, but you'd know better than to doubt his support for you, Yang Yang is the best boyfriend you could ever ask, most idols' relationships don't work out with people outside of the industry due to the busy schedules of their partner, but you believe that the love you share with him would prevail over any sort of obstacle life throws at you.    
The rest of your American tour ended and you can't wait to see the love of your life, having flown home earlier than the rest of your members who had wanted to stay a few days longer to rest and travel. You didn't tell Yang Yang, hoping to give him a surprise, these days he's been busy at work, so the two of you haven't video called for a bit. When you open the door to his unit, you're greeted by an empty home, you let out a disappointed sigh, but it was expected, it means business is doing well, that means his father won't give him too much pressure, you hate seeing Yang Yang stressing about not exceeding their expectations, he's always too harsh on himself.  
You quickly put away your things, only the necessities, you'll unpack your clothes and the many souvenirs you bought in the next few days. You took a quick nap on his bed, planning to sleep away the jetlag. When you woke up, it was 5, and boy were you hungry, you checked the fridge for food, but of course Yang Yang hadn't bothered to stock up or cook knowing you won't be around, so you close the fridge door and tried your luck with one of the cabinets, relief flooding your mind when you see the copious amount of snacks Yang Yang had, grabbing a bag of chips, you opened it and popped one into your mouth, you were going to eat them on the sofa, but something caught your eye, Yang Yang had put up a new portrait of the two of you on his wall outside his office, it was a photo of the two of you under the beautiful sakura tree, you smile at his sweet gesture, distracted by the photo, you accidentally tipped the bag of chips and dropped a few.  
Cursing to yourself, you quickly pick up the pieces, chucking them in the trash before wetting a paper towel to pick up the crumbs, you open Yang Yang's office door to check if any got in there, but once you were in, you were distracted by the sight of his office, you've never been in here before, knowing that Yang Yang doesn't like mixing work and private affairs, he rarely ever talks about work with you unless you ask, which wasn't weird considering he doesn't really enjoy it that much, but what you didn't expect was a comfy looking leather chair at the end of his table, you're sure you've seen this chair in one of those fancy interior design magazines in the salon, taking a seat, you realised that Yang Yang had left a drawer open, you were going to close it for him, but something caught your eye, it was one of your banners, one that you remember was made by a specific fan site, you pulled it out, reading the fan site name under the words of encouragement, MienYang, why does Yang Yang have this banner? You don't remember the admin of MienYang putting this banner up for reprinting on their twitter, unless...Yang Yang is MienYang? That can't be right? You observed the other things in the drawer, careful to not mess up the arrangements, you see thumb drives and sd cards labelled with dates and things like inkigayo, kbs music bank, are these photos of you? Before you could contemplate on whether to take a look into the sd cards, you hear footsteps near the front door, you quickly put his things back in their order before closing the drawer. When Yang Yang stepped into his living room, he sees you cleaning the floor before standing up to open the door of his office to do the same, worry filling his mind, but that anxiety dissipated when you close the door immediately after cleaning. "Sorry, I dropped chips and wanted to make sure the floor of your office doesn't have any crumbs, would be a nightmare to find ants chewing on whatever documents you have in there," you joked before waking to him, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend. "Thanks, babe, but why are you back early? I thought your flight was in a few days?" Yang Yang asked, pulling away slightly to look at your pretty face he missed so much. "Yeah, but I decided that I wanted to see you more than the liberty statue so..." you trail off, the two of you breaking into a laugh. "You're back early though, I thought you said month end means more workload,” you asked, pulling him to take a seat with you on his expensive couch. "Yeah, about that, I was going to come home and then leave in an hour for an appointment with an interior designer, I was going to tell you this during Christmas, but I might as well get the cat out of the bag now, I was thinking we should move in, and I thought my place could use a bit refurbishing to fit your things into cabinets and some closet alterations would be good since you have so many clothes, so let's do it together, you know?  I'll feel less pressured to guess what's your taste in wood or whatever, that is if you want to move in with me, no pressure of course, I'll be happy to wait if you need more time- "Yang, babe, I'll be happy to move in with you," you agree, cutting him off of his panicked rant slash confession. "Really? You're sure?" Yang Yang couldn't believe it would be this easy to convince you to move in with him. "Of course, we love each other, and by living together means we would have more time to love one another," you reassured him, "now go take your shower, I can't wait to look at the designs," you said before your ever dutiful boyfriend pecks your lips and rushes into your bedroom.  
You push what you saw in his office out of your mind, it didn't really matter, whether Yang Yang is MienYang or not, Yang Yang is providing a comfortable and secure future for you, and you genuinely love each other, who he was in the past, doesn't matter to you.
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lillysbigwilly · 1 year
Note
can you pls write a fic of reader being new in jackson and ellie crushing on her (love ur fics btw) 💕💕💕
new in town (Ellie Williams x reader head canons)
sorry it took so long love, been busy getting drunk and stuff lmao (i’m picturing ellie as 17/18 in this however i’ve left out specific ages so imagine however old you want)
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you were travelling with your sibling when you stumbled across jackson. believe it or not but it wasn’t your original destination, your younger sibling didn’t do well with new people and in jackson, there’s a lot of them
however, two men called tommy and joel found you wandering the areas and invited you for food (you hadn’t eaten in days so you hastily agreed)
when you got there, you didn’t expect to love it as much as you did. even your sibling had made a friend within the first hour of being there.
when you met maria, she offered to give you a tour of the town. quickly checking on your sibling (who was perfectly content playing in the playground with other kids) maria took you around jackson
and god when you saw her, it was like the world stopped turning.
not surprisingly, the same happened for her too.
you were a hot mess; hair pulled into a ponytail, clothes ripped and muddy and the beat up converse on your feet were practically fallen apart. plus the scars that littered your bare arms and face where doing something for her.
she was with dina and jesse when you walked by with maria, the older woman briefly introducing you to them. she told you there names and told them yours before she continued showing you around
it’s safe to say that once you gave ellie that welcoming smile she was smitten
jesse and dina were relentless in teasing the girl.
after a year in jackson
you had gotten a lot closer to dina and jesse. so close you’d probably call them your best friends but ellie? well she usually avoided you
you weren’t sure why but dina told you she just didn’t do well around new people. come on now, you weren’t new anymore
the real reason? she couldn’t go two seconds without getting flustered and stuttering and probably blurting out the truth
so what better way than to BEG maria to place you on patrol with the girl
any luckily, she agreed. you were a strong fighter especially with a bow and ellie was good with a gun and her knife.
ellie said not one word to you the majority of the time. only brief words of directions. it was on your way back when you stopped your horse, tied her to a tree and just stood there. when ellie realised you weren’t following she turned the horse around and went back over to you
“do you not like me or something”
“what?” ellie was shocked at your question
“you never fucking pay attention to me ellie. it’s all i’ve fucking wanted”
and god when she figures out you like her back (which lets be real, takes a while) she will just run forward, take your face in her hands and kiss the loving shit out if you
when you get back to jackson, best believe everyone realises really quick
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hemlockalope · 4 months
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ok ok im curious. sunday wanderer comparison?? that sounds cool. free pass to talk abt it if you want :O
Hi hi yes!! Thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk about them!! Also spoilers for 2.2 Penacony quest and Genshin's Wanderer quest
Also under cut because it ended up a little long-
To start i want to say that while im comparing them their stories definitely aren’t one to one, i just love thinking about Wanderer’s story in every occasion since i’ve obsessed over him for too long(and sunday is quickly joining him in my obsessions) But basically the main thing is how they both tried sacrificing themselves to godhood for completely different reasons and both failed, falling (Sunday was caught, Scaramouche was not)
Yes, both were sacrifices Sundays is a obvious one as Robin was supposed to be the sacrifice but Sunday did it instead of her, not letting his sister get hurt on beliefs she doesn’t even believe in(The Dreammaster always knew he would be the one to be sacrificed anyways) His sacrifice was selfless, he would go through eternal loneliness if it means everybody else could be happy
Meanwhile Scaramouche was sacrificing himself for selfish reasons He wants to achieve godhood because he isn’t human, and while it isn’t explicitly said(i think?) i very much believe he was trying to one up Raiden Ei in becoming a god(If you play as Ei and die in his boss fight he mocks her) But it’s still a sacrifice of his body, as they explained in the quest that if the sages completed their quest in getting the wisdom capsules into Scaramouche’s god form he would no longer be able to move for himself, he would fully become a puppet god for the grand sage
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I just couldn’t stop thinking about how both of them tried ascending to godhood for completely different reasons yet both failed and yknow, both almost did it if it wasn’t for a factor they didn’t account for (Nahida’s Samsara abilities and Acheron and Black Swan waking trailblazer up plus Robin waking herself up)
Also!!! comparing Gopher Wood to Dottore Dottore obvs was not a father to Scara AT ALL but he was indeed extremely manipulative (Before Sumeru came out i questioned if Scaramouche ever saw Dottore as a father figure or not, and with Wanderer we know now that he hates him and even when he was Scaramouche he never liked him but working with him was a necessity) But also did Sunday even ever see Gopher Wood as a father figure? we know he took Sunday and Robin in, but the two never calls Gopher “father” or anything from what i remember Also the fact Sunday’s second suspect for Robin’s murderer to be Gopher Wood??? how fucked up is that???
The main thing i think a lot about is the selfish vs selfless sacrificed they did, also the fact that people think Sunday will get a redesign before he releases and he's gonna be released a lot later then when he first showed up plus going from a villain to companion is all things Wanderer went through After realizing all that I jokingly thought why not just let him change his name too, and while it started as a crack theory i kinda just kept thinking about it I saw someone say that Sunday isn't his actual name? I haven't seen any in game evidence though, but maybe Sunday is the name he chose for the family, or maybe he didn't even choose it maybe Gopher Wood did, and after everything that happened in the final he doesn't want to continue going by that name, nor does he want to go back to his old name, so he chooses to use a new one and I can't stop thinking of how Robin probably doesn't like the name Sunday, the family being the one giving it to him, so instead she just called him brother because she knows he doesn't go by his old name anymore either and after Sunday's fall, she talks to him about it. Asking if he's still okay with the name, and when he doesn't respond she hugs him and reassures him he'll always be her brother no matter what
The last bit just ended up me talking about a crack theory/ headcanon lol sorry this just ended up me rambling! Hopefully i covered everythign i wanted? I've been thinking about this for the past few days without writing anything down and I also have awful memory, and with that I'm sorry if I forgot something or remembered a scene wrong!!
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fernandezology · 2 years
Text
don’t take me for granted-mason mount
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pairing: mason mount x reader
summary: “but every time i leaned over and said i’m sorry you said it was fine. you squeezed my hand and said it’s fine. i love you. don’t worry... it’s fine.”
warnings: angst with a twist at the end
word count: 1,2 k
life is good.cause we fucking did it. it couldn’t have gone better.
you looked beautiful tonight.the entire night, while i was talking to all these smiling,sweet,rich people who one month ago wouldn’t give me the time of day... i would look across the room and see you. and i’d think, god,she is the most beautiful fucking creature on planet earth.and the sexiest. there’s truly no one sexier. even christian said it.
speech he gave after being voted as the best at fifa awards left you…speechless.you had no intention of talking to him so you just looked at him confused.
he recognized your “what is that supposed to mean” look because let’s face it,he knew you like the back of his hand.
not in a bad way. a good way. a respectful way. but it’s true. every time i’d see you... he continued to talk while kissing the back of your neck,with your glass of old fashioned,smiling and chatting it up,i’d think to myself:
“god, am i fucking lucky.”
nobody in their right mind would have energy to start an argument after a long night of pretending to be interested in people you’ve never seen before. thankfully,there were few familiar faces who made this night bearable. however,some of them turned it into the worst night ever. including him. you didn’t want to raise any suspicion so you dryly smiled at him.
what was that?
what?
that smile?
what?
it was a fake smile. i thought you are going to be a little bit more excited for me. don’t think your behavior went unnoticed. it seemed like you were not yourself tonight, especially around my mum. what’s wrong?
point is… i don’t have nothing to say to her. which is the reason i didn’t talk to her.
it’s just... she notices.
really?
yes.
how do you know?
i just do.
really?
well she sees how you are with other people... you’re talkative, you’re funny.
what can i say, i’m personable.
right. which makes her insecure.
what? other human beings with personalities?
no. it’s the fact that you’re not yourself and she knows it. can you just tell me what happened?
tust me. it’s not a good idea. let’s talk tomorrow.
but i know you’re upset at me.
it’s not a big deal.
i can’t go to sleep knowing you’re angry.
i’m begging you. nothing productive is going to be said tonight.
how do you know?
because i know you.
you turn and walk down the hall toward to bedroom,already regretting you said anything because he is not gonna let it go now.
as you were taking off your jewelry,you look at him in the mirror,realizing this is gonna be a long night. truthfully,you didn’t have one of those in a while- at least not this sort of long night.
really... you wanna go there? it’s your speech, mason.
why do you have to find something... anything...the most minor fucking detail to harp on, to fucking ensure that there is no possible fucking reason to celebrate.
you didn’t thank me, mason. that’s not a minor fucking detail. that’s a big one.
oh give me a fucking break. when i said you’ll find the most minor fucking detail and turn it ugly... i fucking meant it.
but i’ve thanked you a million times before. you know i’m thankful. you know I’m appreciative. and you know it was a mistake, so why turn it into anything more?
because it is more.
you can’t be serious.
i’m dead serious.
then you’re out of your mind.
and you’re hyperbolic.
i’m not. it’s hysterical to think that forgetting to thank you is symbolic of anything other than me legitimately forgetting to fucking thank you.
you looked at him in the mirror and turned to him:
mason,you thanked a hundred fucking people. you thanked your agents. your teammates. your parents. your fucking third grade teacher and the kid who was playing with you at academy when you were eleven years old and saw whatever-the-fuck.
i didn’t thank the guy who saw me scoring a free-kick identical to one i scored in 2020?
you know what i mean -
you don’t have to be sarcastic and petty about it. i forgot to thank you.i am sorry. i am genuinely sorry.which is why i apologized a hundred times during the awards. i couldn’t even focus on the awards because i felt so guilty.
that’s a shame.
but every time i leaned over and said i’m sorry you said it was fine. you squeezed my hand and said “it’s fine. i love you. don’t worry... it’s fine.”
well mason,i changed my mind.it’s not fine.
how can you just change your mind?
honestly... it’s really fucking easy.
that doesn’t seem a little crazy to you?
not at all.
really?
nope.
why?
because while i was sitting through awards it was fine,then every single person from your dad to declan came up and said, “i know you’re probably a little upset he forgot to thank you but i know how much he counts on you.”
they said that?
they told me not to read into it.
what does that mean?
that’s funny you say that... that’s the exact same thought i had. but let’s not digress. because as the night went on, i became less fine with it.
before you could continue why you weren’t fine with it,he asked you to sit next him. even though this was probably your worst fight ever,you missed being close to him and how could you refuse?
because it’s not just about you forgetting to thank me. it’s about how you see me and how you view my contribution, not just to this relationship, but to your work. after listening to you complain about new coaches,new methods,waking up in the middle of night when you were crying about not being good enough and not wanting to leave your childhood club,supporting you when you wanted to quit football completely…
i really hope you don’t actually think that i don’t appreciate everything you did for me. for us. if it wasn’t for you,i wouldn’t be here where i am right now. i would still be mediocre. there is a reason why they say that after every great man is a great woman. you are the most loving and patient person i know. thank you for everything, i don’t know how will i ever make it up to you,but i’ll do everything in my power to make you the happiest woman in world every day until we die. i’m so sorry. thank you. thank you for loving me. for making my life anything but mediocre. we make the best team and i love you,baby.
i love you too,just don’t take me for granted.
great... are we no longer fighting?
you look at him and smile and then it turns into a laugh.
what? don’t tell me you already know what i wanted to ask you. he smiled for first time since you came home and but it felt like forever since you last seen his contagious smile- one of many things that made you fall in love with him.
you shrugged your shoulders, completely oblivious on what is he talking about until you saw him getting on one knee.
will you marry me?
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Text
Through The Heart Is The Only Way. Chapter Nine: "Stay." Poly!Chiffany X FEM! AFAB! Reader.
Well here we are! This might very well be the LAST fic of Multi-May! Can you believe it?! This month has been insane, I mean just look at all I accomplished! With this fic it brings the total up to 12 fics and one update of my current long fic, the total word count of all of these even beating the amount I wrote for Kinky December back in 2020! I might get one more thing out before the month is out but maybe not, don’t hold your breath, a few things I received during this month will still get written though! So if you sent in a request but didn’t see it get done, don’t give up hope! It might just come out a little later. Now, I have been writing this chapter update on and off all month between my other projects, it is a massive labour of love and I hope you all love it too, this is a DOOZY of an update. Massive shout out to @eggsandbeer who proofread this! A very long time coming in many respects, so let’s not waste any more time and let’s finish this month off RIGHT! Masterlist for the whole series is found, here.
Rating. Explicit. Length. 12K. (I KNOW! Okay I know!) Charles Lee Ray X Tiffany Valentine X FEM! AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Masturbation. Softness. Fluff. Big Emotions. Spoilers For Night Of The Lepus AND Stand By Me. Cuddling. Kissing. Making Out. Smoking. Alcohol Consumption. Grinding. Dirty Talk. Taunting. Voyurism. Teasing. Banter. Lingerie. Multiple Orgasms. Vaginal Fingering. Hand Job. Blow Job. Eating Out. Vaginal Sex. Safe Sex. Threesome. Cum Swapping. 
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Normally waking up to a sink full of dishes that you neglected to do the night before would start your day off on the wrong foot, but the following morning after your date hosting Chucky and Tiffany? It feels like nothing could sour your good mood, almost as if the sinkful of sticky and stained porcelain and utensils was an old friend you were excited to see.
Okay that might be a small exaggeration but fuck it, you were happy, you allowed yourself to be a little silly, a bit giddy over how well it went. So with the radio on and coffee brewing you are soon elbow deep in hot soapy water and scrubbing grease laden plates and the heavy bottom frying pan you used last night, humming all the while.
You keep playing last night, particularly the end of your date, over and over in your mind. God, it was such a good time, you were genuinely very excited for your next date, curious what you would do. That kept on occupying your thoughts, every date had been pretty different so far, you wondered if they were going to call you up with a plan all laid out or what. Once the dishes were done the rest of that day was spent pretty typically. After the dishes and some breakfast you find yourself retreating back to your bed, you thought about them so much previously and didn’t satisfy yourself last night so before starting the rest of your day proper you got that out of the way, twice. It isn’t like it took long while you thought about the taste of him thick on your tongue and Tiffany touching and encouraging you the whole time. 
Next you did some errands, some self care, went to work, and it was a lovely day with you in such a good mood, totally in your element, tips flowing well for a normally not great night for them spelling out just how happy you were. Logan and Marcy commented and with a shrug you just told them, “I dunno, lucky night I guess.”
The pair scoff, unconvinced, “Uh-huh, sure.”
For some reason they didn’t believe you that you were simply just that happy to be at work but thankfully they didn’t pry as much as they had previously. 
You don’t let them bother you either way. As excited as you are for this next date, whatever it will be, you were still more than willing to be patient, secure in the knowledge that they would get back to you when they could just as they said.
You continue on living, a night out with co-workers here, working there and finally you get a call a week after your last date. When the phone rang you jumped slightly before hopping to rush and grab the phone, picking it up with a hopeful, “Hello?”
And then you hear her voice, “Ahhh there you are, hey, I’m glad I caught you.” 
You hold the phone closer, a soft sigh, your other hand on the table top as you feel yourself sink into the warm honey of her voice filling your ear, you slide down into the corner of the couch next to the end table you kept your phone on. “Tiffanyyy, how are you?”
“Good, very good, how are you?” She asks and you hum out, “The same, good, been busy at work, waiting for your call.”
“Sorry for the wait honey, what Chucky and I had to do took longer than we were expecting.” You didn’t think she needed to apologise but it was still appreciated, especially when she said it like that. “Oh no worries, I kept busy, it wasn't like I was just sitting by the phone.”
She laughs, “No way, I could never imagine you doing that. You? Spending a whole week sitting alone at home every night?”
You giggle along, fingers instinctively go for the phone cord and curl around the coil as you respond, “You’re right, very much not like me.”
“Oh yeah, total party animal.” She agrees and you say after a moment, “I’d call myself more of a zoo keeper.” 
“A zoo keeper?” She inquires and you respond, “Yeah, I corral and control the party animals and keep 'em in check when I’m working.”
She laughs again, you love the sound. “Cute! That is very cute but still, you should be partying it up when you aren’t corralling the wild animals you feed drinks to night in and night out.” You take that as your cue, “So you got some big party animal plans for our next date then?” 
“Well about that…We were feeling so bad about us taking longer than we were thinkin’ it would, that we wanna make it up to you and wanted to ask what do you want to do?” 
Tiffany was so sweet, offering for you to pick what you would all do was nice, offering to host since you did last time was even better. You want to see her and Chucky sooner rather than later, you are off tomorrow and then not for days and days, thus, you don’t want to wait almost another week. So you ask, “Are you both free tomorrow?”
“Short notice, but let me check.” You hear her pull the phone away, she calls out, asks something to who you assume is naturally Chucky and the phone is brought back, “We are wide open.”
Success. 
There is one hurdle however. You’d been keeping an eye on the weather as you always did, considering you either walked or relied on the subway system to get basically anywhere, you had to be aware of what you were stepping out into and sadly, even though it is late into March they are calling for a snowstorm tomorrow. It wasn’t supposed to be anything nuts but enough that going out would be a bit of a pain. You had been working hard all week and so the idea hit you and you said, “How about we rent some tapes and have a date night in?”
She lets out this pleased hum and you grin as she says, “Oh that sounds perfect, I hear it’s supposed to be miserable out tomorrow. How about you come over here and we host you since you had us over last time?”
“You wanna check with ol Chuck first? How is Chucky anyway?” She told you how she was but not how he was, she says, “He’s fine and I am sure he will be alright with the idea of you coming over to us and him not having to do a thing.”
Fair point, you laugh at how easily she dismissed your worries. “Rent whatever you want and come by at about four tomorrow before the snow starts?” 
Sounded perfect. “I’ll be there, can’t wait.”
“Me either-” And then she said something that you were thankful she chose to do over the phone, if she would have said it to you in person you might have just died, “-I missed you.” 
“You missed me?” You asked, slight disbelief and she corrected yourself, tone quieter, as if she was trying to hide it from a certain redhead. The image of her turning her body, both hands cradling the phone, a smile on her face that could almost be read as shy as she makes the small confession, floods your mind. “Well, WE missed you but he wouldn’t ever say that out loud.”
Oh you were sure that was the case, you were also sure you’d wear him down eventually and get some semblance of softness out of him. You hadn’t thought that was possible previously but with how this is all going, you think it might happen eventually. You could see it when he was with her, the intimacy, comfortability, the closeness and how he didn’t lean away from it but rather to it. The fact you were allowed to see that, given that little peak in makes you wonder, were you special? Or is she too alluring and makes him react like that even when he rather wouldn’t expose himself in that fashion? 
“Oh my God, you’re getting soft on me!” You exclaim and she says, “What? You think I can’t be soft because I look this tough?
“Yeah the gothy exterior is real misleading, hm? You totally suckered me.” You claim and she laughs, “Hook line and sinker.”
You hear another voice and then Tiffany saying in an annoyed but amused tone, “Alright, alright, here-” And then his voice is in your ear, also sounding very amused, “What is so fucking funny that you all keep laughing over?”
“Awe you feeling left out Chuck? Don’t worry about it, I’ll be there before you know it and her and I can fawn all over you.” The promise seems to please him, “Now that's what I like to hear. Haven’t been too bored without us?” You can picture how he looks too, leaning over the back of their couch, right next to Tiffany, that cocky smile you have gotten to know as he talks into the phone, the occasional glance to her as he does so.
“Hardly, I was just telling your lovely girlfriend that I’ve been keeping myself plenty busy but I can admit that shit is much better with you both around.” Your fingers had been getting tangled in the phone cord during this conversation as you played with it and now you were unwrapping them as he responded, “Naturally, course it is, we’re the best.”
“Mmm you sure are, and now I hate to cut this short but I gotta start getting ready for work tonight.” He groans, “Booo-”
You hear Tiffany, she is still close by just like you thought, “What?” He fills her in, “She’s gotta get ready for work now.”
Tiffany echoes his sentiment, “Boooo-” It sounds like he is holding the phone so they can both hear and respond to you now. 
“You remember where our place is?” He asked and you hummed, “It’s tattooed on my brain.”
You could hear the beginnings of Chucky complaining and you cut him off, “C’mon, less than twenty four hours, I’ll be at your place, think you can live until then?” 
“I’ll do whatever I have to make sure he is alive for your arrival.” Tiffany promises and Chucky jokes, “Anything? Even mouth to mouth?” 
You hear the sound of a playful smack and a quiet, “Ow-” Laughing you tell them, “See you both soon, bye.” 
“Bye.” Comes the call in unison out of the phone, before you hang up. Getting off the couch you make your way to the bedroom to get yourself together for your shift and start to think about just what to wear to their place and what just to watch. Work flies by, you look cute and Logan gives you minimal shit and before you know it, you are back on the walk to the train station with Jackson, deep in conversation.
“So you got the day off tomorrow, what are you getting up to?” He asked and you still weren’t at liberty to give the whole truth, but you could say something, “Oh not much with the storm that is supposed to be rolling in, think I am gonna have a night in, rent some tapes.” 
“Oooh, cosy, sounds good, smart too, not trekking out in that shit.” Jackson says with a nod up to the cloudy sky. “Right, you have fun braving the last vestiges of winter, solo.” You tell him and he groans, “So mean.”
“I’m no meaner than you deserve.” You tease. You wish you could be fully honest with him, but hopefully one day, Jackson takes your hand and you let him, fingers lace and you rest your head on his shoulder as you wait on the platform for your respective trains in comfortable and companionable silence. 
What does one wear to a mostly meant to be casual date in watching movies? That is what you kept asking yourself and ultimately, after much rifling through your drawers and closet you settled on a comfortable sweater and jeans, you didn’t want to look too try hard and this was supposed to be low key after all. 
Now the implication of this was clear, being alone with them in their place like this, you didn’t want to make assumptions but you aren’t dumb, it could very easily get physical again and God after how the last date ended you were liking your chances and hoping that was the case. So with all that in mind, you might have dressed up a little more under the wool and denim. You catch a last look at yourself on your way out the door and yes, you look really fucking cute, you didn’t go as heavy on the make-up as you do when you are at work but you hope Tiffany likes it all the same. Coat pulled tight around yourself and bag over your shoulder, you head out into the late afternoon chill, first stop was the video store.
You stand in front of shelves, eyes scan over vhs cases and countless titles, you are seriously considering what would be entertaining, what would they like? You wander between the aisles and then it hits, that first date you had, the movie that ended up being pretty bad, and all the fun you had ripping on it afterwards over dinner. You found the perfect movie on a bottom shelf, near a corner, it was dusty, you wondered who rented it last and maybe if it had been forgotten about. You selected one other tape and after paying the rental fee you were back out the door, another stop had you then heading for their place, a plastic bag in each hand, one with the movies and the other loaded with snacks. Soon you are inside their building and knocking on their door with a well manicured hand promptly right when you said you would be there, four o’clock on the dot.
The door swings open to see Tiffany there, gorgeous as ever, even in what you assumed were her own more casual and comfortable clothes, the grey sweater she was wearing was big, hung loosely off one shoulder and the spandex showed off what you could see below the hemline of said sweater, very well. 
“Look at you! So punctual as always.” She praised and you said, “Oh I know I couldn’t keep Chucky waiting much longer or he would be totally insufferable.”
She held the door open and let you inside, “Trust me, I can handle him. You look fantastic again by the way, adorable sweater.” 
You came in and set the bags down so you could take off your boots, “Awe thank you, same for you, looks like you could be in a hot chocolate commercial or something, so comfy.” 
In the process of being half bent over you get a look at the fact Tiffany is wearing some very fuzzy and soft looking slippers. Your boots off you stand back up and she is smiling, you tell her, “Cute slippers.” 
A glance down and she asks, “You like em?” 
“They look comfortable but leopard print?” You ask and she laughs, “What? It isn’t like they are made of real leopards.” 
You laughed loudly, “I know that!” Tiffany’s hand rests on your shoulder and she leans over, presses a kiss to your cheek before asking, “So what’s the problem then?”
My God, even that, the soft and small press of her lips to your cheek makes warmth spread through you along with the smear of gloss she left and all complaints and issues are forgotten. You sigh out as she squeezes your shoulder, “None, not a damn one.”
Caught up staring into her eyes for a moment then that familiar voice is cutting in, “Are you not telling me when our guests arrive anymore?”
A look over your shoulder to see him coming into the room, definitely the most dressed down you had seen him, also looking comfortable and at you, relief washes over you, glad you took it easy and didn’t overdress. “You know I think you can get away with wearing t-shirts more often.” 
“Right? I keep telling him that all the time.” Tiffany agrees as her hand leaves your shoulder and he grins, “Starting on the praise already, making up for lost time?”
“Can you blame me?” He was close enough now that you opened your arms, invited him for a hug, he took you up on it but asked, while you were in his arms, “I know what this is really about, she is just tryna keep you all for herself and distracting from that with the sweet talk.” 
“Heaven forbid I want some solo time before you get your grubby mitts all over her.” Tiffany taunted and he laughed, “Yeah, you weren’t complaining they were grubby earlier.” 
She scoffed and he ignored her in favour of asking, “And what? No kiss hello for me?”
You exhale amusedly and roll your eyes, you are sure if any other guy said that to you the urge to clock them in the jaw would overwhelm but with him, saying it in that teasing tone, you can’t help but want to oblige. You pull back, hands remaining on his arms and you lean up and do just what he wanted. It wasn’t especially long but it didn’t need to be to have an effect on you just like hers had earlier. When you broke that kiss, back flat on your feet Tiffany had picked up your bags that you brought in, “Look at all the goodies you brought along!”
“Sweets for the sweet and all that.” You muse before telling them, “I made some guesses on what you both like for movie snacks.” 
“Oh well we will have to grade how you did.” Chucky said with raised eyebrows as he pulled away and all of you moved into the living room, you threw your hands up, “Oooh scary.” 
You had the chance to really take in their apartment, the last time you were sufficiently distracted but now you could really see it. The couch was comfortable looking, lower lighting provided by the few lamps scattered around, and facing the couch, a low coffee table, end tables bracketing said couch, a few windows and something you didn’t expect, plants. A few well tended potted plants were around of various types, you couldn’t place them but they looked nice, definitely added to the space, the lush pops of green are welcome after so much winter. Tiffany patted the spot next to her and you took it, Chucky sitting beside you before turning the bag upside down onto the coffee table. 
“Milk duds? Hell yeah.” Tiffany praised as she plucked up the box and Chucky said, “Junior mints-”
“You got something against chocolate and mint, Chuck?” You cut in and he was already opening the box and popping one into his mouth, “Hardly, I think it’s an underrated combo, but telling that I open my mouth and you think I’m gonna be critical and complain.”
“Well when you do it so frequently-” Tiffany started and he bit back, reaching over you to playfully push her shoulder, “Shut it.” 
“Awe, I thought you liked me with my mouth open?” She asked and he agreed and corrected her with a well timed raise of his eyebrows, the innuendo clear, “Open yes but full preferably.” 
You cut in and ask, “So we making this popcorn I brought or what?” Tiffany picked up the package, dropping the box of candy for the moment and said, “Of course, on it.” 
“Need any help?” You ask and she said while patting you on the shoulder, “I think I got it covered, but thanks honey.” 
You could get so used to her calling you names like that. You watch her go and you are on the couch with Chucky alone, turning to him you asked, “So what did you and Tiff do that ended up running long? You never said.”
“Oh didn’t we? Nothing major, a work thing.” He shrugs and you realise at that moment that they had never told you what they did for work. How has that happened with how long you have been seeing them? It hits then, whenever you are making plans to hang out it is all centered around your work schedule with very little issues from either of them on their front, weird. 
“You know you and Tiff never shared what you do for work.” You said and he asked, in a seemingly uninterested tone, “Didn’t we? Coulda sworn we did.” 
“No, pretty sure you didn’t.” And after he didn’t say anything further you prompt him, “Soooo, what do you do?” 
He glanced over to you, tipping the box over and letting a few more junior mints fall into his hand, “Freelance work, it’s real open ended and flexible, which is nice for us, gives us a ton of freedom.” He said it so easily and you had no reason to not believe him, before you could pry further into what KIND of freelance work Tiffany was coming back in, bowl of popcorn and a bottle of wine, “You opposed to a few glasses?”
“Oooh not at all!” Tiffany grabbed wine glasses next and sat next to you again on the couch, she started to pour and Chucky asked, “So what did you rent anyway?”
“Two movies-” You reached out and snatched up the other bag, pulling one VHS tape out, “-Night Of The Lepus is up first.”
“Night of that what?” He asked as he took the tape, as if the clear plastic case would give him a better indication of the movie’s content and you said, “Lepus, Chuck. Night Of The Lepus.”
“The fuck is a Lepus?” You laugh and pluck the tape back out of his grip, “Guess you will have to just watch the movie and find out.”
“Yeah sweetface. I am sure it is going to be good if she picked it out.” You leaned over, a kiss to her cheek, “Thank you.” 
“Anytime.” She coos and in short order the tape is put in the VCR player and the three of you settle in to watch. You liked this, being between the pair of them, sinking into the cushions of the comfortable couch, ample snacks, a drink in your hand and casual points of contact. This feels right. Your thigh was against hers as she leaned into you and Chucky had his arm over your shoulders, his hand playing with some of the loose hair at the base of Tiff’s neck and you felt as relaxed and at ease as you do in your own apartment. 
The movie is rolling and as expected for your little group, there was easy conversation and riffing about what was happening on screen. 
The newscaster on the screen is speaking at this moment, “-it’s difficult to conceive that such an innocent furry rabbit, scientifically known as lepus, can be so destructive.”
“Oh so that is what lepus means? Rabbits?” Tiffany asks and Chucky chimed in, confused tone, “This movie is about what? Mutant bunnies?” 
“Mutant killer bunnies. And yeah! Just wait, trust me, it’s to your taste.” You assure and he decides to but not without a roll of his eyes.
As the movie goes on Tiffany is very into it, when the scientists are capturing bat specimens she is even happier, “Bats AND bunnies? So cute.” Chucky smiled as he said, “You are just in heaven, aren’t you?”
He starts getting into it too, the jokes flow more, conversation more fast paced, Chucky pointing out, “They just blatantly re-used that news footage from the opening-” 
“I like rabbits, mommy!” Exclaims the girl on screen which has him abandoning his original thought to say, “Yeah something tells me she won’t by the end of this.” The tone he says it with almost makes you choke on your sip.
“Wow those sure are some zoom-ins.” Tiffany said and Chucky asked, “What do you think they put on the rabbits faces for the blood?” You offered up, “Jam? I think it's probably jam.” 
“Growling, the rabbits are growling.” You say and Tiffany laughs, “Did you hear that scream?!” Chucky himself laughing, “Like it came from 12-year-old, so high pitched-” You all on cue at the same time mocked it together before falling into another laughing fit.
“These rabbits just do not stop growling.” You say later on and Tiffany says, “I know they are big and bad and we are supposed to hate them but they are just still so cute!”
It is quiet for a moment before Tiffany asks, “Hey sweetface?” 
Without turning his head he says firmly, “We are not getting a rabbit.” She pouts, “Oh why not?” He turned towards your direction, a hand landing on your knee as he said, “You did this, I’m blaming you.”  
You put your hand on his knee in kind, leaning in closer as you say, “I’d apologize and say I’m sorry but It’d be a fat fucking lie, Chuck, so I’ll spare you.” He deadpans, “I love your honesty, it's so sexy.”
And more towards the end of the movie, you had an arm around her, saying, “They aren’t really dying Tiff.” She pulls her glass back from taking another hearty sip and says, “I know that but it looks so convincing, you know?” 
Later still Chucky is saying, “They are talking about the railroad a lot.” And once the movie reached its finale, all the massive nearly car sized bunnies being electrocuted at the railroad trap that was set up he said, “Oh. Well fuck. It was important.”
Once it wrapped up Tiffany was still going on, “They are so big! Do you think I could ride one?” You ask, “Like a pony?” She excitedly agrees, “Yeah like a pony!”
“Well I gotta admit, for a dumb movie about killer bunnies, it was pretty entertaining.” Chucky said, giving it up and you say, “The jokes and drinking helped I am sure.” 
Tiffany leaned over, a quick hug as she said, “The company did too.” 
“Mannn, between this, the slippers, loving the bunnies, you are getting soft.” You tease and she lets you go, “Insulting me in my own home. So rude.” 
“We gonna do some dinner before the next movie?” Chucky asks and you perk up, “Oh that sounds great! What are we thinking?”
“I pre-made a lasagna earlier in anticipation for this, can just put it in the oven and mid-way through the movie when it’s done I can serve it up and we can eat.”
“Look at you, thinking of everything.” He praised as she got up and with a big smile asserted, “Someone’s gotta.” 
You got up, had been on the couch the whole time the movie was on, you stretched and asked them, “Where’s the bathroom?”
“Oh down the hall there.” You thank him and head off where he directed. When you were washing your hands you turned your head to look out the window and the whole thing was covered with snow. After you dried your hands you figured you should check this out further, you opened the window, took more force than you thought it would, the thing was practically frozen shut and when you got it open you were greeted with pure white sleet so thick you couldn’t see more than a foot in front of you. The chill was bitter, the wind biting and it had you slamming the window closed with a shiver, hands brushing over the front of your shirt, wiping away the snow that had stuck to you in the ten seconds you had the window open. 
The weather channel lied. The storm has evolved into an all out blizzard and it is bad, the worst one in a long time. You come back outside and ask, “Have you seen outside?”
“No, why?” He got up and went over to the window and looked out, “Holy shit, it looks fuckin’ nightmarish out.” 
“Yeah. Maybe I should uh get out of here before it gets worse?” Tiffany and Chucky shared a look before she looked back over her shoulder at you, “No way are you going out in that mess!” 
“Yeah you should spend the night.” Chucky offered, and you asked, “Really? You’d be okay with that?”
“Duh of course. No way should you be out walking in that, we wouldn’t even drive you in it-” Tiffany said and you asked, “Wait drive? You guys have a car?”
“We do. We don’t drive her much in the winter in the city, that much salt you are just asking for rust problems.” Her, the car is a her, he is one of those car guys, you bet “she” even had a name, it was weirdly endearing, and also opened up lots of possibilities too for future dates. “Does he care for the car more than you?”
“Sometimes I wonder.” She muses, “And besides we still have another movie and dinner too.” She makes a good point, you don’t want to leave yet and it would be stupid and dangerous to try and brave that blizzard. The care and concern is sweet, you say, “Thank you both.”
Chucky waves you off, “Don’t even mention it, so how about that next movie?” 
The oven had been preheated, dinner was in and going, drinks were refreshed and at that time Tiffany was asking, “And what is the second movie exactly?” 
You snatched up the bag that had been pushed to one of the upper corners of the coffee table and brought out the second tape, “Stand By Me.” 
“Oh, never seen it.” He admitted and you said, “Me either but I have read the original story by Stephen King.” 
“What is it about?” She asked and you filled them in, “It’s about four twelve-year-old boys and this adventure they set out on to go see a dead body.”
“This is your follow up to giant killer bunnies?” Chucky accused, thoroughly amused and you laughed, “What? I thought it was a good follow up, much more mild, less nuts and out there, a palette cleanser if you will-”
“Just a weird double feature is all.” He says, hands up and Tiffany hums, “Unconventional certainly but I am more than willing.”
The VHS was slid into the VCR and the positions had changed on the couch, you were at one end, back against the arm rest, legs stretched over Tiffany’s lap she is leaning against Chucky as he is resting against the other end of the couch. You feel even more at ease, knowing you were spending the night, having your first sleepover with them, movies and dinner and drinks was the perfect recipe for relaxation.
You felt good, not really tipsy or even buzzed but rather light, happy, the wine they selected was great. 
Chucky spoke up first, the same pattern as the last movie, talking about it as it went on, “These kids got some good insults.” Tiffany exhaled amusedly, “Yeah you really have to step it up.”
“Can’t be outshined by a gaggle of twelve-year-olds in the fifties, think of your rep Charles.” You tease and he gags, “Ugh, can we not?” 
“What no Charles?” You ask and he says, “I’d rather we didn’t.” 
“Touchy, touchy. But fine.” You conceded.
It was quiet for a while until he spoke up again. “Christ, everyone is doing it in this damn movie, I want a smoke.”
Tiffany carefully moved your legs off her lap, “Me too, open the window.” He gets up and goes over to the window and does so carefully, it is still coming down so he opens it just enough for a small crack to blow smoke out of. Both he and Tiffany have a smoke while standing on either side of the window, still in view of the tv. 
“Train dodge?” Tiffany asked, shocked as three out of four friends tried to get the last one off the tracks, trying to explain why attempting to dodge the train was a terrible idea, and Chucky laughed on the exhale, “Oh this kid is gonna die.” You agree with a chuckle, “One hundred percent.” 
You all watch as Chris manages to yank him off the tracks before disaster can strike and Chucky’s hands cup around his mouth as he calls, “Booooo, you shoulda let him try.” You laugh, “Is the body they are going to see not enough?”
He is musing as you all watch, “You know I’ve always wanted a dog-” Tiffany cuts him off, “So no pet bunny but we can get a dog you can train to bite balls off, real fair.” You are laughing hard, “My God what a sentence.” 
“You would do that.” Tiffany said and Chucky asked, “Spit in your face? I mean, only if it got you off.” She bit back with, “Like it doesn’t get you off.” Causing Chucky to say, his fingers brushing over her cheek, the action soft and in no way matching his tone, “Never said it didn’t, I was only concerned for you.” 
“Mmm real concerned, I’m sure.”  Said Tiffany. Those moments you see between the pair of them are some of your favourites when sharing time together, the easy air and banter they share is amazing, you hope to reach a similar level one day. 
You speak up, “You think the body is gonna be gross?” Chucky responded in turn, “I mean we can only hope.” 
While watching the older group of guys in the gang carving into each other, Chucky asked Tiffany, “Should we brand each other?” She laughs as if the idea is hilarious, “Yeah, I’ll get your name right over my heart, how’s that sound?” You all share a laugh over that.
You mused after a while, during a lull with a sigh, “Bull-true. I love that.” Chucky asked, “That gonna end up in your daily lexicon?” You say, “It might.” He takes the chance for the joke, “Bullshit.” Tiffany groans with a roll of her eyes as he is busy snickering over his own quip. 
The scene where the boys are crossing the train tracks over the river, nowhere to jump off without falling one hundred feet into the water you speak up, “You feeling this tension or just me?” 
Chucky responds with a nod, he is sitting more forward, eyes locked on the screen, “No, no, I'm feeling it.” And when the train actually did show up Tiffany was gripping your arm hard, pretty manicured nails biting into your bicep through the wool of your sweater, “Shit, shit, shit, fuck! Are they gonna make it?!” The level to which Tiffany is into the scene playing on screen makes a smile break out on your face even with all of the previously commented upon tension, she is so cute.
They manage to but just barely and you exclaim, “God, that was so good.” Tiffany gets up, “Stressful more like, I need another smoke.” 
The next few scenes were watched with them both at the window, indulging again. She says easily at one point between drags, “The word of the movie is sincerely.” He nods in agreement, “Seriously.” 
Watching the kids around the fire, you speak, asking, “I don’t smoke so I don’t get it but is a smoke post meal really that good?” Chucky and Tiffany moan in unison just as he is closing the window and they have finished their second smoke of the movie, “Ohhh my Godddd-” she calls and him following up with, “Yes, yes yes-”
Their impassioned reaction gets another laugh from you, true you didn’t get it first hand but they sure got the point across. 
Dinner was finally ready and you all ate in front of the tv as you did so, not wanting to interrupt the movie. It was really fucking good, you were impressed at the skill she displayed, you wished you knew how to make something this good. The fact she liked the dinner you made for them made you happy considering her own cooking ability. “Tiffany this is fantastic, and you just did this today?” 
She shrugged as if it was no big deal, “Yeah this afternoon before you got here. I can show you how sometime, maybe have a date cooking together.” Chucky piped up, “I’m all for it.” 
“Pfft, no shit, we do the work and you get to eat.” Tiffany laughed.
As the boys finished crossing the river, Tiffany groaned, “Oh nooooo, not leeches.” And Chucky states firmly, “This is why you will never, ever catch me swimming in a river.” 
And finally the boys had reached the end of their journey and you spoke up, “Woah.”
Chucky was setting his plate aside, getting ready for that aforementioned post dinner smoke and his third of the movie, as he said, “There he is.” Tiffany asks, “What do you think? Worth it?” You shrug as you say, “I think it’s one of those things where it’s more about the journey than the destination.” 
A mutual hum of agreement as the pair are lighting up.
It is silent during Chris’ comforting and Tiffany said quietly, “This kid is a good friend.” Something you and Chucky both agree with.
When the ending finally comes there is much exclamation, “Chris became a lawyer oh my God-” And very shortly afterwards, “And he dies?!”
“You show us this movie, get us all invested and Chris bites it?” Chucky asked and you defended yourself, “Yeah years later-” He presses on, “The point still stands!”
The credits roll and as Tiffany is collecting up plates as she says, “Still hurts either way.” 
“That is the point though. This movie is like life, it’s happy but sad, funny but tragic, you know?” She concedes to you on that. Chucky turns to you, “These are the two weirdest movies you could have ever picked for our date night.” 
“But?” You ask and he follows up, “But so fun.” Tiffany calls over her shoulder as she carries messy plates to the kitchen, “So fun!”
“Seriously you should pick for movie nights more often.” He praises and you ask, “We wanna do this a lot more then?”
He shrugs and says easily, “Shit, I mean why not?” 
Why not indeed.
“Sooo the movies are all done, what do we want to do now, since I’m staying?” You ask and he says, “Cards and some tv?”
Sounded good to you, it was still a little early and so you all ended up sitting on the floor around the coffee table, some made for tv movie you didn’t care about providing background noise as you played. There was more conversation flowing over all manner of things, everything and nothing and whatever in between before another few hours later the decision to get into bed for the night was made. Tiffany loaned you something to sleep in, a rather large t-shirt that was warm and comfortable.
You were feeling tired but once you saw Tiffany’s choice in pyjamas, a tank top and short shorts you felt significantly more awake, looked like she had this set for a few years and it was criminally tight. You sat on the edge of the bed and joked, “So you saved the better pyjamas for yourself, I see how it is.” 
“Ha, hardly, you look good, really cute.” She said easily, she was putting her hair up as she sauntered over to you and keeping eye contact was difficult, something she picked up on as she said, “You know you can look, right? It’s kinda what I am hoping for when I wear something like this.” 
“Oh I know just what you mean.” You get bold and take what she said as an invitation to open your legs as your eyes drag over her curves. Your hand dropping down, you pull up the bottom of the t-shirt she loaned you and show off the frankly gorgeous lace and silk underwear you picked out hoping to impress her. Eyebrows raised and she says, “Yeah that is the kinda thing you wear when you wanna garner certain kinds of attention.” 
She finishes putting up her hair and you ask, “Well do I have your attention?” 
In place of a verbal response she leans down, hands rest on your thighs and she kisses you. The speed with which you return her affection is impressive, your hand lets go of the shirt and you reach out, hands on her biceps as you deepen the kiss and she hums into it. That is the moment you hear him come in, “Starting without me again. Is that the theme for tonight?”
You and Tiffany break the kiss with a laugh, big smiles as you look over Tiffany’s shoulder and she does the same, “You were taking too long and she showed me what she has on under this-” She pulled on the sleeve of the t-shirt you had on, “-and what am I supposed to do after that? Not kiss her?”
“Yeah, you snooze, you lose Chuck.” You tease and he comes over, “Apparently, and what exactly do you have on under this?”
He sits next to you on the bed, side saddle, one hand meets your knee and he makes a move to open your legs to get himself a peek and you forcefully keep your legs closed, pretending like you aren’t dying for him to see, “Ooh I dunno-”
“Tease.” He scoffs and Tiffany leans in again, she turns your face back to her, breaking the eye contact you had with Chucky and kissing you again, you melt in short order and focus on her instead. He is able to open your legs easily and when the fabric is pulled up he says, “Christ you weren’t kidding. How can any sane person with a heartbeat not want her after seeing that?”
The kiss was forcefully broken when he pushed you over onto your back and he climbed onto the bed. The action is surprising and honestly much too arousing, you like when he takes charge, the confidence works on him and you are into it. 
He is moving closer as he is talking, “You know, we kept on talking about you while we were away.” He leaned down and you asked, “Yeah?”
“Could not stop thinking about how that last date ended.” He admits and Tiffany agrees, her hands hadn’t left your thighs and they were moving upwards now. “You were too hot for words.” 
Her saying that about you? As she is bent at the waist, her finger starting to dip below the edge of your t-shirt, her ample cleavage on display from the angle, biting her bottom lip and that mischievous glint in her eyes, you think that “too hot for words” fits her much, much better. You still graciously accept the compliment on your oral skills and apparently how good you looked while doing it. 
“I can’t stop thinking about it either.” You divulge as their hands start wandering quickly, her fingers run over your hips before beginning to move back down and his hand is sliding up your side, thumb tracing the curve of your breast and you say, “I want to do more too if you both do-”
“You think we can resist when you are spending the night in our bed, especially wearing something like this?” Tiffany asks as her fingertips brush over the soft edges of the delicate material that was currently encasing your quickly dampening cunt. He was so close now as he told you, “Yeah c’mon, we are only human and we can only show so much restraint.”
Thank fucking God, this has been coming for way too long and with it being so explicitly stated means all bets are off, you can hardly wait to indulge but that doesn’t mean there is any reason to rush. 
You tell him, “So stop holding back.” Before your hand is on the back of his neck, leaning up the last bit, you kiss him, and even though you initiated that kiss, he is soon the one taking over and leading it. 
He clearly takes what you say to heart, they both do, because clothes are coming off in between heated kissing, his shirt and her shorts, and you take off the shirt Tiffany had loaned you, all in all you ended up wearing it for less than ten minutes and when it was taken off both of them pause. The bra was part of a set, it sat on your body beautifully but didn’t leave much to the imagination since the cups were sheer, intricate lace that matched the panties curling around the edges and framed your nipples. “God, she is asking for it, isn’t she?” 
You were.
Tiffany didn’t give much more than a hum with a nod in response, she was on her knees, kissing up your leg as her hand found its way in between, deft fingers stroke up and you arch into her touch. You were plenty warmed up, her fingers slide back down, more pressure and it draws from you a quiet exhale, head falling back and he takes the opportunity to kiss up your neck one of his hands feeling up your chest. His fingers get greedy, dipping into your bra, blunt nails catch on your hardening nipples and the small edge of pain the action provides makes the pleasure radiating out below your waist increase. Tiffany was very into her current task, head resting on your inner thigh, fingers touching, rubbing consistent and steady circles through the satin like fabric over your clit, taking in every reaction of your body as well as watching the sight of the wet spot steadily growing. 
“You good down there?” The question is spoken into the hollow of your throat, another kiss ending his sentence and making your breath stutter as her fingers press harder, she speaks, “So good.”
“I bet.” You feel his smile against your neck, fingers squeeze your nipple and he continues on, “Little known thing about Tiff is she looooves lingerie-”
“Really?” You ask breathlessly with a big smile, the wash of pleasure increasing between the pair of them working you over, “Guilty.” She sighs. 
“Maybe we should go lingerie shopping together sometime.” You suggest absentmindedly, the friction of the thin layer of fabric between your clit and her fingers is making it hard to breathe normally and Tiffany perked right up, fingers slowly slightly, “Oh you mean it?” 
“Yeah, I am sure you have all kinds of things you want to see me in.” You tease and Chucky chimes in, “Think we both have lots of things we want to see you in.”
Tiffany agrees and you ask, “Like?”
He huffs, teeth grazing your pulse point before he asked, “You want to keep talking or do you want to get fucked?” 
She was moving your underwear out of the way, fingers hook in the wet material and she pulls, her thumb stokes over your clit and you gasp out the answer they were hoping for, “Fucked, definitely fucked.” 
“God I cannot wait to see that.” Tiffany’s voice, Christ, it was enough to do your head in on an average day, but like this, almost naked, their hands all over, and the tone she spoke in, it clued you into how desperate she was for it, clearly she was being genuine. You had the smallest wondering if she had masturbated to the thought, the idea of her doing that at all, thinking of you getting railed by her boyfriend or otherwise has your hips bucking to get closer to her touch. Her other hand is on Chucky, nudging him and he takes the hint, he is still close to you but more on his back, his hands abandoning you for the time being, she is helping him out of the rest of his clothing. Her touch on you at this moment is light, rocking gently, you get lost in the feeling and before you know it he is completely naked. 
Your attention is drawn to this because of the groan he lets out, your eyes start at his face, the expression he is wearing is betraying what is already going on, but still you take your time to see it for yourself. You treat it as if it were something you had been greatly looking forward to, which to be honest, you had, allowing time to indulge, not wanting to ruin it by taking it in too quickly, appreciating it. Your eyes are raking down his chest and stomach to then see it live and in colour, Tiffany with one hand around his shaft and the head of his dick between those pretty kissable lips of hers. This is still so new but you sincerely doubt you are ever going to tire of seeing the pair of them be physical with each other. 
Now that she is in a good rhythm with him she picks up the pace on you once more, you had no idea that she was so good at multitasking. Between the pleasure she was foisting on you and the view and sounds of Chucky you can’t take it, you need more, you reach out, a hand meets his cheek and you bring his face over to you, initiating a deep kiss that both of you moan into. It continues on like that, the energy is impressive, all of you are feeding into each other, Tiffany’s tongue flicks over his tip and the inhale is draws from him makes more heat spark inside of you and kiss him deeper, the brush of his own tongue on yours makes you moan and causes her to redouble her efforts and it just doesn’t stop. In between kisses you ask, “How do you stand it?”
“Mmm? What you mean, ugh, her?” He laughs a little breathlessly, a groan spilling out after that and you nod, “Yeah, exactly, her, she’s too much.” 
Tiffany pulls up, he leaves her mouth with a wet pop and she teases, a call back to a previous joke he had made on your last date “The most.” 
You love this too much, the way that even with the hot and heavy atmosphere, feeling this good, you can all still joke around and keep it light. Your forehead leans against his as you snicker, “And funny too, you got yourself quite a catch.” 
“Yeah we lucked out big time.” He agrees, his mouth is back on yours and you feel yourself melting. 
“You flatter me so.” She sighs but your mind is caught up on the “we” still. You wonder if it was an accident or purposeful but him saying we in this context isn’t a small thing. No time to follow up or question however, Tiffany has two fingers sliding into you as she is back to sucking his dick and you are moaning with a grind of your hips to increase the feeling she gives. Between the hot and heavy make out you keep on stealing glances at her, whenever you and he break apart your eyes are drawn down to see how she is taking him nearly to the base with no issue. Her hand and mouth moving in tandem, you notice too that when she takes him as deep as she can that is when she curls her fingers into you, her thumb swirling over your clit while she pulls him out, the level of control she has over you and him is enough to leave you speechless. 
Unlike before you are leading the kiss now, keeping it fun, playful, ample moans and when you can manage to get the words out, scattered praise  for Tiffany is spoken until she is the one who can’t take it anymore, she is the one to push it further. She slides him out of her mouth, resting her head on his thigh, her hand still stroking him and her fingers curling into you again, “Are you both ready?”
“Oh you all needy, hon?” He asks with a surprisingly lack of condesension and a smile, she nods, “I want to see you fuck her.”
Heaven above how she says that, you clench on her fingers, speaking of his fingers, they brush over your cheek and while catching your gaze he asks, “Well? You ready?”
A bite of your bottom lip before you practically moan out, “God thought you’d never ask.” 
You were dying for this just as much as they both were, is it possible to be so hot and bothered that your own blood can threaten to boil you alive in your veins? You have no clue but the culmination of all this time with them about to come to a head, to get fucked by both of them, in their bed, a total dream come true, soaked and more than ready you don’t need the rest of your clothing.
Her hands slip away and his hands are on you, he helps you, taking care of your bra and you sliding your panties off, now completely bare and then he is helping move you how he wants.
Repositioning you is easy, you wonder if they had planned this because they both seem to be on the exact same page about just how they wanted to have you, not like you have any complaints about that. You are on your side, Chucky is behind you, his back practically to your chest  as Tiffany is getting onto the bed, taking her tank top off as she does so and now she is in just her panties and your eyes are wide, “Holy fuck-”
His chin on your shoulder, looking over to see the view of Tiffany in barely anything and he says, “I never, ever get tired of seeing that. Her body is fucking insane, those tits? I mean come onnn-” His hands are on you, the small shake as he moans that out makes you giggle. 
She is throwing the garment aside with a fond roll of her eyes and a smile on her lips, one hand in his hair, an arch of her back pushing her chest out further and she asks you softly, “You wanna touch?” 
You tell her, “If I ever say no to that I think you can assume something is seriously wrong with me.”  She scoots closer as she says with a smile, “Well go ahead.” 
You do as she encourages, one hand cupping her and she is impossibly soft and incredibly warm, she sighs, leaning more into your touch, eyes falling closed and your thumb circles one of her nipples. All of the nice tits comments and filthy compliments aside that you could tell her, instead you utter completely sincerely,  “You’re fucking beautiful. Just my God, Tiffany, you’re stunning.” 
Her smile widens and she looks almost shy? As if she wasn’t expecting you to say that, and certainly not so sweetly and earnestly, you sound practically awed and that gets to her. Makes her heart beat faster, she wonders if you can feel it as you explore. Shocking Chucky doesn’t make some kind of comment on this but you do feel him grind against you, his enjoyment of the view more than apparent.
You vaguely register him pulling away for the moment and hearing the sound of the nightstand drawer pulling open and snapping closed, Tiffany has gotten more comfortable, she is on her side in front of you, she had initiated another kiss as your fingers carefully pinched her nipple between two fingers and rolled it. His hands are on you once more and his hand is between your legs, starting to move, you take the hint, moving with him so he is holding your leg out of the way, your other leg resting tangled between his, chest to back and you feel him there, hard shaft grinds over your lips and you moan into her mouth. 
You break the kiss as his mouth is next to your ear, warm breath sends a shiver up your spine he is grinding against you, wetness from you spreading onto him, head of his dick bumping over your clit. Eyes flit down and you manage to catch a glimpse and the view is hot, you also realise why he leaned away before, while caught up playing with Tiffany he’d grabbed a condom. You were glad you didn’t have to ask, this was still so new, the first time you were doing this so of course it was a necessary precaution, who’s to say it will always be this way, if it is just you and Tiffany being with him there isn’t a reason to not feel him bare. 
It’s just another fun thing to look forward to honestly, this is just the first of many.
He doesn’t need to ask because you take the initiative, reach down, fingers meet his shaft and you tilt your hips back, the position just right you push back as he moves forward and finally starts to sink inside. Your eyes close with a sharp inhale, it doesn’t hurt, far from it with how prepared you are, the stretch of him sliding halfway in on that first stroke feels exquisite. You can feel Tiffany’s eyes locked on the point of connection between you and Chucky, his grip on your thigh near the back of your knee tightens, he pulls out most of the way before driving back in, deeper, causing you to take more and you moan his name softly. A few more purposeful rocks of his hips and he is completely inside, he exhales heavily into your ear, you feel his forehead rest against you, both soaking in the feeling for a moment before Tiffany’s hand on your cheek snaps you out of it. Your eyes open to see her right there, so close you can feel her body heat and she asks, “How’s it feel?”
You don’t know if it is meant to be directed at you or him but you both answer anyway. First you, choking out, “So good, so full-” and then him, “Tight, wet, amazing.” 
A steady pace is started, not fast or slow, a good even tempo that has you wanting to go limp in his grasp. One hand still occupied with holding your leg out of the way, his other arm was hooked around your body, over your shoulder, hand resting over your breasts, the extra point of contact makes it easier still to maneuver you, pull you down as he fucks up. Tiffany is watching intently, her bottom lip is tugged between her teeth, flushed cheeks and eyes flitting over, trying to capture every moment and movement and detail. She is really into this, you knew she would be but this is still a pretty big line to cross, fucking her boyfriend in their shared bed right in front of her, and there seems to be not a single hint of jealousy, no she loves it, that helps you sink even further into it. A turn of your head and you manage to catch his lips in a sloppy kiss, you start to move too, desperate to make this better, increase the feeling as you rock together. 
“He’s being so nice to you.” She praises and you break that kiss with a laugh, asking, “Is he us-usually me-an?”
He exhales amused and thrusts harder into you, “I can be.” He breathes that to you in a way that makes you clench around him, maybe you’d like him being mean to you. 
“M’ sure he won’t be able to be on his best behaviour forever.” Tiffany tells you and you want to sigh out, “Promise?” But instead an incoherent moan leaves you because Tiffany’s hands are getting back to work, fingers press to your clit and swirl making the euphoria spike aggressively. A weakened and hiccupping moan of her name as your movements become sloppy, trying to buck back onto Chucky is becoming more difficult with both of them so focused on you. 
“Fuck Tiff, keep going.” Was he reading your mind when he said that because you were about two seconds from begging for that yourself, his breathing is as laboured as yours. You didn’t think you’d last much longer like this at all and the small fact of that, of getting close makes it worse, unable to keep any of the sounds inside, moaning openly. Tiffany’s fingers working over your sensitive flesh as he continues to fuck into you, steady and deep strokes you are panting, your head raises from where it had been laying on Chucky’s arm that was still hooked around you, managing to catch his gaze. The eye contact is intense, the shared heavy breathing, bodies moving together and consistently getting better, adjusting and figuring each other’s bodies out, your eyes break away only for a second to catch Tiffany’s, she presses harder and you whine out that you are getting close. It is only a few minutes into this and you are threatening to fall apart between them, your hand catches the back of Tiffany’s neck, you pull her close, kissing her, tongue in her mouth and she returns your affection with a groan of her own. 
“Shit, you’re too hot-” Chucky pants out, his grip on your leg just might leave bruises, you don’t care as he fights to keep pace, “-practically stranglin’ me, so tight I can barely fuck-ing move.” 
You are right there, on the very edge, your mouth slips from hers, face buried in her neck and with the combination of one more purposeful thrust from him and a move of her hand you gasped out a pathetic warning of, “-cumming!”
“Yes, fuck yes, come on.” His encouragement fills your ears and makes your skin under his touch tingle. Before it happens, you slip and ecstasy overtakes, body tenses further, trembling as the weight of the feeling threatens to crush you, no real coherent sound, just pitched fluctuations of your breathing and murmurs that could be read as curses if you squint hard enough. You don’t think, you just feel, completely given over to the moment and to them. Her touch only begins to ease when your whimpering sounds like it is beginning to border on painful, he doesn’t relent though, it draws the remnants of your orgasm out for a long time, eventually you do regain some words, mostly it is his name, muttered between kisses you laid on Tiffany’s throat where your face is still buried. You can’t see but you are positive she is touching herself now, the way her moans are mixing with yours and his, how her body shudders, your tongue darts out and tastes the salt of her skin and she arches closer to you. 
Chucky’s entire body is nearly pressed to yours, he is talking again, fractured praise, “So good, I knew you would be but fuck, you-you’re-” His sentence trails off with another groan as his hips slam into yours but you don’t care, even without finishing the compliment it effects you deeply.
When she moves away you want to question it, want to ask what she is doing but it becomes clear in short order, she sinks down. Her hand that isn’t between her own is on your inner thigh, she managed to get in just the right position and she moved in, her lips press gently and carefully to your straining clit and your body reacts as if shocked, spasming with a cry, he must feel it too from the hiss he lets out. “Goddamn you just clenched so hard-”
Tiffany listens, her own fingers are moving quickly between her legs but her mouth moves faster, pretty pink tongue licks up over and over a few times, pulling delicious sounds from you whenever she does before her lips lock around the throbbing nub and she sucks. This one has very little build up, it seems one minute you aren’t and the very next you are, as if she forcefully dragged you to the edge and threw you over the cliffs edge into heaven in a few short minutes. You are calling her name, fingers tangled in soft blonde hair as you ground on her tongue and just when you’re orgasm is at its peak you push on her head, she doesn’t relent, she forces you to feel every single bit of it and only leaves you when she is satisfied with her work. 
You are still shaking, trying to breathe through the aftershocks when three last hard thrusts cause your whole body to move once more with his spell Chucky’s end, your name staining his tongue as he drives that last time to the hilt and holds as he spills into the condom. You feel him slightly trembling through his high and that makes you smile dreamily, feeling powerful you were able to do that, he released this huge breath and sighs as his body starts to go slack, “Jesus, holding out till you were done was practically torture.” 
You clear your throat, finding your voice you say, “M’ sure it’s the kinda torture you’ll happily come back for a second helping of.” 
He laughs breathlessly, “You’re not wrong.” 
The sentiment is nice, him caring enough to make sure you got yours before getting his, he slowly pulls out with a grunt and he lets go of your leg, your hand comes back, you rub your hip as you close your legs again, you feel incredible but this wasn’t over yet. He is on the same page as you because now that the condom was thrown away he was moving closer to Tiffany. She just did a ton of heavy lifting for you both, helped make the first time he fucked you incredible and saw to it that you and he came insanely hard and the only thing on both yours and his minds were returning the favor. You realised she was still wearing those panties and you had to do something about that. Your fingers hook into the sides of the thin material covering the last part of her and you begin to move it out of the way, sliding them down her thighs and exposing her to you. 
Keeping your mouth closed was impossible, it is involuntary, your lips parting slightly as seeing her totally bare and Chucky laughs, you look over to see him, head pitched forward, shaking his head slightly, fuck, his hair was a mess from how your hand was buried in it at one point while he fucked you. “What is so funny, Chuck?”
“Nothin’ just-” His hand runs through his hair before popping back up, sideways smile, as he says, “-I had that exact same look first time I saw her naked.” 
“Only the first time? Try every time.” Her tone is light but at the same time it is undercut with clear need, “Can you blame a guy? You look like you were ripped right outta a magazine.” 
He leaned down, a kiss to her forehead and you reached out, your hand touched down and her legs jerk at the feeling, she was drenched, absolutely soaked and as you learned within a minute, very responsive. You had just cum twice in pretty quick succession, you felt totally satisfied but she was changing that. He was kissing her, hand stroking over her neck and moving to play with her ample chest, you got more comfortable as you used your hands, your head was swimming, finally touching her after so long, hearing the sounds she made, how different touches made her react, you ended up pressing your thighs together when your fingers slipped into her, she gasped your name into his mouth and fuck, you did that. 
She felt incredible inside, slick, pulsing, tight, if it feels this good for your fingers to be inside her you can only imagine what it is like for him to fuck her. He is pulling away from her kisses to ask, “How’s she doing?”
“Amazing-” She sighed that out, lips parted and eyes half lidded in bliss, and he is ginning, “Yeah seems like.” 
He looks over to you and then sits up again, he motions for you to come closer, you do so, leaning nearer and not stopping touching, he whispers to you, telling you, “Make it like you are crossing your fingers like you’re lyin’, twist em back and forth and then curl them up and press hard.” 
Your nose wrinkles in confusion but you do as he suggests, upon you following his instruction,  her whole body bows and she cries out louder than you have ever heard previously, your eyebrows raise in shock and he teases, “Told ya.” 
It turns out that she didn’t need long, between him pinching her nipples, whispering more commands on just what to do, she is cumming on your fingers loudly within five minutes. You wished you looked half as good as she does when she cums, you are totally captivated, the way her body rolls and the moans she lets out, it’s nothing short of pure art. 
Her hand locks on your wrist and she begs, “Please, stop, fuck-”
You do, you’d been so caught up in her that you hadn’t let up for a second, overstimulation must have been setting in hard, poor thing, you slowly and reluctantly pull your fingers out. Before you get the chance to taste her he is pulling your fingers into his mouth and your mouth drops in shock, “You asshole! I worked hard for that treat-”
Your fingers pop out and he says wetly, “You want it? Come get it.”
“You’re such a bitch.” You sighed but you still pulled him nearer and kissed him either way. Sharing the taste of her when you kissed him might just be one of your new favourite things. When the affection finally reached a natural end, Tiffany said, “My legs might not be working right now but don’t leave me out.”
You and Chucky oblige. You both kiss her, one after the other and wrap her up in your arms. Sweaty and tangled limbs all cuddling on top of the messed up sheets as you relax and breathng slowly starts to even out. "That was-" You start, voice trailing off.
"Is there no words, again?" Tiffany asks and you say, "Nope! I swear to God I have a good vocabulary, my brain just doesn't work after what you both do to me."
"Awe yeah sweet thing, you are real smart, we both know it." Tiffany praised. "Fucking you dumb is a good pass time." He muses as he presses a kiss to your cheek.
The come down takes a long while. The bedroom window is cracked the smallest amount possible because it got stiflingly hot in the room as well the snow still coming down so hard making opening it any further a stupid idea. The pair of them doing what you has to assume is their normal ritual post fuck, both lighting up for another cigarette. You were still naked but actually in bed now, under the sheets and just watching them. Sitting up in the low lamp light, easy conversation and joking between the pair, she had his shirt on and he’d tugged his underwear back on, both their hair a mess and you just felt happy. Really fucking happy. 
Nowhere to be, just soaking up the moment with them. He asks, “Is there any of that lasagna left?”
“What are you hungry at this time of night?” She asks on an exhale of smoke and he says, “Yes I am, all that really took it out of me.” 
“Sex like that is hungry work, I have to say I could do with a snack myself.” You say and between the pair of you she can’t say no. So at nearly three AM, smokes finished, the three of you are sitting up in bed and sharing a plate of lasagna, by the time you all do fall asleep it’s almost four and you are thoroughly exhausted and slotted between them, you are positive this has to be the best sleepover you’ve ever had. 
Would it be weird to send a thank you letter to the weather station for getting the forecast so wrong and making all this happen? Probably. And yet you were still considering it. 
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asyouleft · 11 months
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WIP Wednesday
Finally remembering that I always want to post WIP Wednesday but constantly forget.
Anyway:
Irondad for @happyaspie
“Hiya, Spidey,” came Mr. Stark’s voice from the suit and a second later, the man himself stepped out. Peter had been this close to Mr. Stark once, back when they went to the Stark Expo. He was in awe of the man and the suit then and now, it was much of the same. 
Peter almost fell off the building on purpose, running away from the whole situation, but he couldn’t get himself to move. Instead he cleared his throat, trying to sound much older than almost but not quite 16 years old. “Hi, Mr. Stark Man.”
The second the words left his mouth, he wanted to die right then and there.
Mr. Stark laughed, moving away from the suit and coming closer. “Mr. Stark Man was my father, please call me Tony.”
“I’d prefer Mr. Stark,” Peter said, words coming out of his mouth without his permission. “Can I help you?”
“Hm,” Mr. Stark said, stopping close to Peter, almost enough to touch him. “I just wanted to say hi. I’ve seen you swinging around lately, pretty impressive stuff if I do say so myself. That car you caught? Great job.”
“Thanks.”
And two Heartstopper fics for good measure:
“We should hang out sometime, it’d be nice to catch up,” Nick said, cutting him off before Charlie could escape the conversation. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “What’s your number? I’ll text you, so you can have mine.”
Charlie was a bit confused and worried at how strong Nick had come on. He tried to remember if they really did talk at any point but he could remember nothing beyond a brief hi once, maybe twice. Nick was a year above him and played rugby, something Charlie didn’t touch. He was never allowed to attend any parties, especially if Ben was going to be there too. 
“Oh uh,” Charlie stammered. He’d gotten a new number and phone after leaving Ben since he was in charge of their phone bills. He kinda remembered it but with Nick standing there, he couldn’t recall. He fished his phone out of his pocket, unlocking the screen. “I just got a new number,” he added. “I don’t really remember it, sorry.”
“Oh, let me give you mine,” Nick said, not deterred in the slightest. He rambled out his number, as Charlie typed it into his contact, labeled him as “Rugby Nick” for some reason. There were only 5 names in his contact list to begin with, it wasn’t like he wouldn't remember putting in Nick Nelson’s number. 
and my favorite new thing I'm writing (to which I had to find the least explicit part which is kinda hard apparently)
“Ah shit,” Charlie said, almost falling off the bed in his haste. “Where the fuck are my jeans?”
“Your jeans? Jesus, where are my pants?” Nick mumbled, getting up out of bed and scavenging around his floor. “We have to be better about this part.”
“Oh sorry,” Charlie said, rolling his eyes, but finding his jeans, pulling them back on while Nick struggled to get his shirt over his head. “I was a little preoccupied with the hickey you were sucking into my collarbone to stop and fold my pants.”
They dressed with just enough time, opening the bedroom door and getting in their “normal” cuddle pose just as Sarah came up the stairs. Nick had placed his laptop on his lap, making it look like they’d just been watching something. But if Sarah came any closer she might have noticed the laptop wasn’t even turned on.
“Hi boys!” she called out, her voice a lot louder than it needed to be. “I’m home and coming up the stairs.”
Charlie blushed, shoving his face into Nick’s shoulder as his boyfriend giggled. “God, I hate that she totally knows what we’re doing. This is just - so cringe.”
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winstonhenderson · 1 month
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𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟔.
𝓦𝓪𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓐𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓷
𝙎𝘼𝘾𝙍𝙄𝙁𝘼𝙈𝙀 𝙎𝙀𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙎
Paul’s Diary
I was in New York for a couple of reasons. First, I was going to the record agency to regulate some rights. Second, I was going to play some gigs. Same old, same old. But this time I wasn't on my turf, or I wasn’t even on some strangers turf, I was on John’s turf. I had to brace for anything to go wrong and remind me of the good times me and him had that I ruined, and I was frankly scared I might run into some John fanatic and be swarmed. Though I could’ve got into the same problems anywhere, it was a much bigger chance to get into those problems here because John is the favourite of New York musicians. John and I are officially still in a fight, so my fears were warranted. But even though I expected a hassle, I came for business. It is the biggest music industry currently, coming only a bit after London, and I can’t miss that kind of an opportunity. But also, I couldn’t miss an opportunity to see John, even though it seemed like a far off fantasy. At first I was just hoping to run into him by chance. Even though he was a stay at home dad, I thought he still went out. I could do my business without worry. But that worry grew as the days went by. When a third of my stay passed, I made a different strategy. I would check the places where people knew John was a regular. I somehow always missed him. When I went to the place and searched around, there was no trace of him. Sometimes I would run into my friends and they would tell me either he left sometime ago and they didn’t know I was so keen on meeting him or that they would tell me when they see him next time because he hadn’t been there in a long time. And another third passed in mindless searching. I gave up and finished the rest of my business, in the end agreeing to go to a gig of an up and coming band in some small and homey cafe. By then, I had lost hope, even though I should’ve known that I would’ve run into him in a place like that.
I walked into the cafe and the musicians were setting up. I forgot a bunch of their names, but I knew I’d get along with them swimmingly. I heard a scream.
“Oh, fuck, the day Paul McCartney wants to play with us, something goes wrong!”, the guitarist said.
“No worries, if it’s not something big, I could fix it.”, I went to them.
I look at the speakers and try to figure out what is wrong. I sat there for five minutes, but I can’t get heads and tails on this technology. I give up on looking at the shell of the machine and open it, finding a bunch of short circuits.
“That is very broken.”, I said, “Find a mechanic.”
“Oh, oh, shit! I am so sorry, Paul, but we’ll have to play later.”, the guitarist apologized.
The rest of the band looked demoralized.
“Don’t worry, I have the rest of the day free.”, I felt bad for the bunch. They were as us four were when we had an important gig as a small band. I chuckled.
“I am so glad to have such an understanding colleague.”, the guitarist sighed, “Thank you so so much!”
“It’s alright.”, I smiled.
I scanned the cafe and even though it was small, it was almost full and the atmosphere was lively. I was looking for a drink when I heard some snogging in the back. 
“God, fuck, stooop!”, I heard some small moans, “Stop, I don’t fucking know you!”
I ran to the back and wanted to save the bird, but I found John struggling to get out of an embrace of a woman. There were a bunch of drinks that looked weird on the table.
“Just play along Johnny, it’s just for a little bit, then you can have your Yoko back.”
“Do I have to… You look like a caramel apple with chocolate drizzle. I wonder if they even sell that.”, John chuckled, playing with her hair.
Well, John is high. And the bitch spotted me.
“Oh shit!”, she yelled, “Oh, John was-” 
Her acting was unconvincing.
“Get away from him!”, I came in and wrestled him out of her paws, “Why did you spike him! He can’t be spiked!”
“He is just like any other man, just talented, smart and rich. I want a piece of that.”, she smiled.
“Get away, you disgust me.”, I said.
“A man? That’s funny.”, John chuckled, “Why if it isn’t my darling Paul McCartney?”
He was high and ready to bite. But, I had to figure out which high John I had business with. Is it “could be left alone for a minute” or “I’m scared he’ll fuck something up” high John?
The girl in the meantime got lost. That bitch. I dragged him to the nicer seats.
“Change of scenery? Much better here, Macca.”, John sighed, “What the hell was she on to makeout with me?”
“John, even though you have a wife, I think a lot of our fans still want to makeout with you. And you obliged that many times yourself.”, I sighed.
He could be so in his head.
“What are you talking about? Are you purposely trying to reveal me… Oh, your head is so big. Yeah, it shows how smart you are. My smart partner.”, he chuckled.
“Every single person knows about your shenanigans with women.”, I said flatly.
“Paul, not everyone knows I am…”, he came close to my ear, “queer. It doesn’t really need to be made clear. I already have a lot of problems.”
Oh.
Oh, no.
“Problems?”
“Of course. I haven't told anyone yet so I’ll tell you first. I am writing something new. Oh, I mean. John is writing something new. I don’t want anyone overhearing. Though if they do, it would mean nothing. I’m just a nobody.”, as I concluded.
It’s the “I’m scared he’ll fuck something up” high John, or 
“Julia?”
“Yes, Paul? Ask away. Finally someone calls me right.”, well Julia is tripping hard if she can’t figure out she is in costume. What did that bitch put in her drink?
“Jules, you are in costume.”, I told her.
“Oh. Wait, what did you say?”, she was distracted then of all times, “Your head looks like it’s going to explode. Is there something to fix that?”
“Ignore that, you are tripping and are still in costume! You drank a spiked drink.”, I sighed.
“Spiked? I would never do that.”, she pouted.
“What is important is for us to get out of here as quickly and silently-”, I started but the waiter interrupted me.
“What would you like to order? Oh, it’s, wow…”, of course, the waiter knows us both.
Before I even got a word in, Julia began.
“Paul, don’t get ahead of yourself. I would like two vermouths, he would like… Oh, kind of forgot to ask what would you like, Macca? Though I already have a guess.”
I had to go along with her order. But I could pay in advance and that could give us the time to go somewhere else.
“Hm, a margarita would be fine.”, I sighed.
“Um, I’ll get you that. It’s interesting though. Aren’t you famous for ordering Brandy Alexander?”, the waiter asked.
“Where did you get that idea from?”, she was panicking already.
I looked at the waiter crossly.
“Could we pay in advance?”, I asked.
He prepared the bill, the disappointment visible on his face.
“You can.”
“I will pay, I haven’t seen him in a god awful while.”, Julia once again slapped my hand away from paying, “I missed ya sugar.”
She fumbled with the money for a bit, and somehow managed to find the exact amount.
“Sugar?”, the waiter noticed the small mannerisms Julia had.
“Yeah, the reason I don’t need any with my vermouth.”, that was smooth Jules, but quite unnecessary in front of a person.
The waiter acted like he didn’t hear anything and went on his merry way. I was fuming.
“Julia, we are going right this second.”, I ordered.
She looked at me with the saddest eyes.
“Paul, don’t go outside and leave me. I promise I won’t flirt anymore with you if it bothers you that much…”, she stretched the vowels unbearingly long and I was heartstricken again. Julia knows how to pull my heart strings the best.
“I’m not leaving you. I just want to get you somewhere safe. We could go to your flat-”
“Yoko will kill me- I mean John. She would kill him because of him arriving there uninvited and such.”, she was still not going to acknowledge that was in costume, huh.
“We could go to my flat here.”
“You live here?”
“No, you git, I am just renting.”, I chuckled though I remembered she was high out of her mind and it wasn’t that funny anymore.
“Is this a ploy, McCartney, for me to get into your bed?”, she offhandedly bantered.
“No? I mean I love you, but I have Linda.”, at this time I thought “Please don’t get clingy or whiny. God save our reputation and friendship.”
“You don’t love me anymore!”, and she got CLINGY and WHINY. She took my hand and held it to her heart, “Aw, Paul, you changed. Well, my poor heart still beats for ya.”
People were staring. She let my hand go.
“Oh, must you always be so difficult, Lennon.”, I smiled and acted like it was a joke, “Didn’t know you wanted to write again that much.”
Some turned away. Julia’s torn mind cooperated.
“You’re the difficult one. Always prim and proper. Maybe we are the same, though I am usually committing a crime.”, Julia joked, “We could write, I thought your blue hairedness wanted a date.”
“Blue hair?”
“Yeah, like the sky. Why’d ya dye it?”, I felt sorry for her.
“Um, we’ll talk about that later, here’s our drinks.”, I said, “And please fetch us a couple of bottles of water.”
The waiter wasn’t weirded out anymore and fully understood what happened. He hurried off.
“That’s quite a fast waiter.”, Jules noticed, “Oh, well, guess I’ll drink a couple of vermouths.”
“Hold your horses. How is Yoko?”, I asked to stop her from drinking, “And Sean?”
She scoffed.
“Sean is alright. I like taking care of him. He is smart and curious, though the bugger could be rude.”, she chuckled.
“For Yoko, she still can’t get over you and me. She is mad when she sees me being you know… Fragile.”, she hugged herself.
“I know. I’m here now, Jules.”, I held her hand. I forgot the feeling. The mask she likes to wear always had a tight grip on anything, he was ready to tear into anything. While her grip was always soft and melancholic. It was the same hand but a totally different atmosphere.
“Cheers to that Paul.”, she grabbed her vermouth.
“Julia.”, I grabbed her vermouth.
The waiter arrived with the water.
“Take this. Please. We’ll take this with us.”, I sighed.
The waiter grabbed our drinks and went off to the bar to try to pack it.
“No. It’s just water. Alcohol could hydrate me as well.”, Julia declined.
“That’s bull and you know it yourself.”, I scoffed.
“You have a point, love.”, I softened at the love part.
She drank the water.
“Ugh, give me more, my head is on fire.”, she was recovering.
I gave her the second glass of water, she drank it even faster than the first one.
“Oh, oh, fuck. That was too spiked. I’m still swirling.”, she said, “More.”
I gave her the third and fourth bottle.
“Enough Paul, I didn’t ask you for the river Nile, I asked you for another glass.”, she drank the third bottle and recovered a bit. Then I thought about what she said.
“You purposely drank a spiked drink!”, I was mad!
“Who expected it was going to be that effective?”, she was joking! At that time, when she felt like trash and needed help, she thought it was the smartest thing to joke. But Julia is like that.
“Julia, this isn’t funny. I was being serious!”
“Paul, it’s hard, it’s hard living every single day in a prison.”, Julia was poetic again.
“Jules, you made that prison yourself. Let’s go somewhere else.”, I sighed.
“Wait, wait! Macca, aren’t I still in…”, she looked around and at herself.
“Fuck, fuck, what have I done!”, she was panicking, “I made a couple of incidents for sure! Everyone knows, everyone knows!”
“Calm down.”, I was cackling.
“Paul, PAUL! This is serious.”
“Now it’s serious! And you spiking yourself isn’t.”, that was quite smooth of me.
“I’ll tell you some other day, McCartney.”, she was offended.
I guessed she would go back to John again. She gathered her thoughts.
“Well, let’s start over. Hullo, Paul, what does his highness want in New York City this time?”, that was John’s way of saying things. I was right.
“I’m here for business mostly.”, I lied.
“People told me that you were here for a whole month! Wouldn’t you have finished the work by now? Or just how big is it?”, he asked.
“John, you asked around for me? Why didn’t you reach out first?”, I was shocked. I knew Julia would be out and about asking for me, but for John, I thought it was “below” him to admit to doing that.
“I missed you too, Paul. I went to the place where you worked but I didn’t go in because I was a bit- too occupied with taking care of Sean and such, you know?”, he nervously laughed.
I chuckled.
“You should’ve just gone in. I didn’t know you were embarrassed.” “I was not embarrassed!”, he was red, “I was just a bit scared of doing that as, you know, me. I didn’t want to make you feel bad.”
John cared more about me than I thought.
“No. No, you would’ve made things so much easier!”, I was relieved, “Lenny, you know much more than those buggers! The cunts made it so hard to work normally.”
“Oh, McCartney being rude. I didn’t see that in a while. I thought you were a brand-friendly sellout.”, he joked letting out his frustrations to me.
“I can be frustrated too, y’know!”, I was angry.
He smiled wide.
“I missed you so much.”, he declared, “Let’s jam at yours when my head stops ringing.”
“Oh, we have a chance to do that here. Some kids invited me to jam with them.”
“Kids? Paulie, you are 34 years old.”, Lenny began laughing uncontrollably, “They look about twenty five-ish. Have you become a grandpa or something in my absence? Should I call you Queen Paulie? But that isn’t as good as Princess Paulie.”
I sighed and blushed.
“You know exactly what I mean Johnny!”
“Alright, alright, I’ll be the rhythm guitar then. Or piano. Or mouth harmonica.”, he began listing off.
“Stop. They’ll make place for you, Lennon.”
“Of course they will, Paul and John together! Who would want to miss that.”, he sarcastically said that and took me by the hand.
The waiter came back with bottles of our drinks and the ingredients. 
“I apologize for making a mess. I’ll pay for this too? Right, I paid the first time.”, John’s mind was still a bit sloshed.
The waiter was on the brink of crying.
“Mister, no need to cry, I am doing the bare minimum. Set your expectations higher!”, he told him straight.
The guitarist, frontman came back with the fixed speakers. He was huffing and sweaty from running. The rest of the band gathered round him and helped him with setup.
“I’m going to fetch Paul after we finish this.”, he was unfocused, “I already made a delay, now to force him to setup would be just-”
He paused for a solid minute.
“What would it be, lad?”, John asked.
I went to help the band.
“Too much.”
“Oh, but for the Paul I know, it would be too little. He would overdo it.”, John chuckled.
The frontman lifted his head after setting up the speakers and was in pure shock.
“Paul, no, the terms we agreed upon!”, the frontman tried to stop me.
“He is stubborn.”, John was getting on everyone's nerves.
“And just who are you to tell me that?”, he turned around and saw John.
“Oh, I had a hunch but I couldn’t believe it!”, he got excited.
The rest of the band got excited.
“Please play with us!”, they pleaded, “Lennon and McCartney playing together would be such a honor!”
I threw him a “see, I was right” look.
He sighed.
“People, you are swarming him.”, the frontman said, “You can decline.”
“No, I won’t. Paul finds ya gear, I find ya gear too.”, he smiled with his teeth.
The whole band became even more excited. They let us help them, and we ended up doing most of the physical work because they were busy trying to impress us. I am right in calling them kids.
John wistfully sighed.
“Remember when we were like that around Elvis and he ignored us? We can’t ignore these kids like that.”, he said.
“You indulge others too easily, Lennon.”, I began but softened, “But I know what you mean.”
“Oh, but I am still critiquing them. I’m not indulging them, love.”, he was being very sweet.
We were quiet for a minute. We heard a riff they wanted to throw in at the last minute.
“That’s gear, but still needs some work, lemme and Paul at it.”, he was truthful.
We got to work and they watched us with big eyes.
“Shift this chord here. Then, we should make it unfinished… Put this here.”, he mumbled in our writing language.
“Move it up to A. That sounds alright.”, I mumbled back, “Maybe add some thrills.”
I played it back to the band and they were amazed.
“That’s a bloody great riff Paulie.”, he was satisfied.
I reddened, like I do at John’s compliments to my music. They were so rare.
“We are using that! Thank you so much!”, they were so happy.
“Alright, what is the program for tonight?”, I asked.
They gave us the program. It was mostly covers with a couple of their songs which were easy to learn, but had some nice progressions and riffs that needed a bit more work.
“You even put “One After 909”. Aren’t you glad I’m here to sing that?”, John joked.
The frontman got so excited!
“We’ll put on more Beatles songs, we want to play them with you!”
“No need, we like these songs you picked.”, John chuckled. Looks like the cockiness came back.
“He didn’t even ask me. Classic Lennon.”, I scoffed, “But I agree.”
“Why scoff then?”, all of them laughed.
“I had to.”
“You never get old, Macca.”, I smiled on his remark.
We rehearsed for a bit, and went on the stage at 9 even though we were supposed to play from 4 p.m.
The cafe was full of people, which I’m sure made John nervous because he hadn't played in front of a big public in two years.
“What is this? The Cavern Club after 1963?”, he quipped, making the whole cafe laugh.
The frontman introduced the band, but I ignored him because I was focused on John.
“And as guests, I can’t believe they are here to play with us, John Lennon and Paul McCartney.”
The people clapped.
“Paul, let’s bow! Let’s bow!”, he excitedly whispered.
We did the classic Beatle bow. The audience went crazy.
The frontman began, but whispered something into John’s ear.
John looked at him crossly but chortled.
“I’ll be counting down today then, hope you understand little old me.”, the public was enjoying every second.
“Oh, you’re understandable Lennon, believe me.”, I quipped.
“And one, two, three, four.”, we played.
He stared at me mostly while playing, smiling like a fool. I guess he was nervous. The band was amazing! They were a solid backing track, and when their songs took over, they were very competent. John and I didn’t sing their songs, we just played. I was proud of John. Even though he was out of practice, he played wonderfully. The audience was delighted and that was the most important thing for this band and John. He wouldn’t exist if it weren’t from them. 
“Thank you, thank you, that’s all for tonight.”, he smoothly talked to them.
They riled up.
“More, more, more!”
“Oliver Twist asked for more.”, he spoke in his falsetto voice.
The audience laughed.
I send him a knowing look. The band was tired by now.
“We’ll play some classics then.”, John entertained the people while I went to the frontman and told him:
“Begin packing up, we’ll hold ‘em if you’re tired. If not, play something yours.”
They were out of breath.
“Okay, you can end it then. Thank you! This means the world to us!”, the frontman hugged me.
I hugged back.
“Alright, Johnny, hit it. And one, two, three, four!”, I started.
Our guitar heavy songs were present (like “Twist And Shout”). We played and played to our heart’s content.
We were tired by 2 a.m. 
“That’s it folks!”, he winked.
The audience groaned but they were tired too and went off. Us two packed the instruments. The kids left the pay in the case for the instruments. On the envelope in little letters was written “Thank you for your kindness and publicity! We can’t let you go unpaid for this kind of dedication.”
“I’m not taking that.”, I said.
“Interesting. Still I think you should respect the band, and take some of it.”, he assumed.
“Alright.”, I chuckled, taking half of my pay and giving him half of that.
“As I deserve.”, he chuckled, “No, I’ll take it from my pay. I don’t want yours, Paulie. Now, where should we go off to?”. He took the same amount from the other envelope which had the same writing.
“Let’s go to my flat, John.”, I offered.
“I’m fine with that.”, he agreed.
I got excited!
“Paulie is amused. That’s what I like to see.”
“See, Johnny, is it that hard to be balanced?”, I asked.
“What?”, he was confused.
“Is it that hard to be polite and reasonable when you’re John?”, I asked him again.
“I wasn’t polite! Nor that reasonable. Oh, oh, you mean now with the money!”, he got mad.
“I mean you were not extreme. You weren’t hateful, you weren’t overly cocky, you kept yourself in check. I forgot the last time you were like this.”
“Well, I remember it clear as day. It’s August 27th 1968.”, he saddened.
We somehow always end up mentioning it. I exhaled...
“Paul, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll call you more. I have to stop distancing myself from me…”, John sighed.
We arrived at the complex and went upstairs to my flat.
“You are one of the best ideas thought up. You really are. As much as you treasure yourself, I treasure you. I’m sorry because I always wanted you gone.”, I unlocked the door.
He stared at me, his eyes full of tears. I couldn’t withstand him crying, because I would tear up too. He threw himself onto my bed.
“Paul, you loved me even though I behaved like a jerk!”, he shouted.
“John, I made several songs about that! And you still hate me!”, I snuggled with him.
“I don’t hate you Paul! I told you that multiple times!”, he sighed.
“You TOLD me. But your ACTIONS say otherwise.”, I explained.
“Oh, it’s all coming together.”, he began, “I know why I am so extremely angry!”
“Why?”, I wondered.
“It’s because I’m bloody sick of everyone! I was sick of your commanding attitude, I am sick of Yoko’s constant nagging about you and Julia and I’m sick of everyone expecting something from me! First it was Mimi, then it was Brian, then you, then Yoko, and now the whole motherfucking world expects something from me!”, he screamed into the pillow. The pillow was wet. He made it this hard on himself.
“You don’t have to prove anything to me. You don’t have to prove anything to the world. You are not the main character y’know? No one is.”, I chuckled. He calmed down.
“I purpousely drank the spiked drink from that lady. The day was overly long and overly boring. No one was in town. Sean and Yoko went somewhere without me. I don’t know if I want to visit Julian anymore, because he hates me so much, and for a good fucking reason. I ruined his and Cynthia’s life.”, he sighed, “I ruined every single relationship I came across. Every normal person would want me gone for good! I wanted to wash away the pain! Wash away the feeling that I am John. I wanted to be sloshed for one single day and you come in. I didn’t realise I would fuck myself in the process by being that kind of high.”
“John Winston Ono Lennon, you are a coward.”, I said, “You wanted a name for yourself? You wanted to change the world? Deal with it. You can give up! We can live together like we imagined all those years ago. I barely remember when Julia wanted something more than a fling.”
“I always thought we were serious.”, she surprised me.
“ACTIONS, John, ACTIONS, not WORDS.”, I repeated, “I love you! And now I will show that I love you. Where are we?”
“We are at your place.”, he said unenthusiastically.
“Yes! Because otherwise Yoko would kill you for gallavanting!”
He hugged me.
“Thank you, Paul. For everything. That drink could’ve made more damage if I revealed everything or worse if I took more and collapsed on the spot.”
“YES! Thank you for acknowledging you need me sometimes!”, I hugged back tighter.
“Paul, Paul… Paaaull. That’s a bit tight. I’m suffocating-”
“Sorry!”, I let go.
“I’m already wrapped tight.”, he took off his shirt. Oh, the famous bandages that few people knew about. Aunt Mimi’s trusty tool, that Julia misused so long ago. I unwrapped them from John’s body as I used to when we were touring and were finally alone. He put on his shirt covering himself.
“Bathroom?”
“Down the hall on the left.”, I explained.
“Okay.”, he went.
Nervousness and curiosity flooded my state of being. I felt as if it was 1961. and I was a flustered teenager who found out his best friend was all along a bird he liked.
After a couple of minutes, he came out of the bathroom in his clothes that were dirty even though he washed himself. And when I mean washed himself I meant completely, his hair was wet and his teeth were clean.
“You used my toothbrush?”, I pouted.
“Did you ever have a problem with that?”, he chuckled.
I blushed.
“Well, this washed my worries away better than that spiked drink, don’t you think, Macca?”, he asked.
“Naturally.”, I sighed, rolling my eyes.
“May I sleep here, your majesty?”, he proposed.
“I dunno, may you?”, I played with him.
“I can’t refuse cliche banter, Paulie, you know me too well.”, he smiled, though I’d rather say she smiled.
“Jules, John’s confidence always suited you.”, I kissed her on that smart head of hers.
She snuggled beside me.
“Shut up and sleep, I need some peace and quiet now.”
“Oh, are we cranky?”, I patted her on the shoulder, “Good night, Jules.”
“Good night, Pretty Princess Paulie.”, she patted me on the head, “Your quiff is fluffy.”
“Not like your hair though.”, I played with it.
“Paul, promise you’ll have patience with me tomorrow and we can play again?”, her eyes grew big.
“I promise we can play again!”, I kissed her on the cheek, “We will, I already told you I missed you.”
“You mean so much to me, Macca.”, she kissed me on the lips, “Now, please sleep, I have to finish tons of work and find someone to take care of Sean while we’re out and about.”
“I will.”, that was a lie.
“No, you won’t sleep. You want revenge for me keeping you up during touring days.”
I laughed.
“Then, Johnny, what do you want me to do?”
“Sing then.”, she dug her head in my shoulder.
I smiled and sung.
Who knows how long I've loved you?
You know I love you still
Will I wait a lonely lifetime?
If you want me to, I will
She sung along.
For if I ever saw you
I didn't catch your name
But it never really mattered
I will always feel the same
She kissed the place where my heart was positioned.
Love you forever and forever
Love you with all my heart
Love you whenever we're together
Love you when we're apart
She laid back and got comfortable drifting away. I looked at her face. She had an honest smile. One of her true smiles. One of the rare treasures.
And when at last, I find you
Your song will fill the air
Sing it loud so I can hear you
Make it easy to be near you
For the things you do endear you to me
Oh, you know, I will
I will…
I drifted away, nuzzling into her hair. 
Mm mm mm mm mm mm mm mm mm
Da da da da da da da
My eyes closed on her carefree laugh I used to hear during the fifties and sixties. When it was just us two against the world.
Rest of Sacrifame
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thebestofoneshots · 10 months
Note
listen i know i’m late but i needed time to read this and process because i knew it was gonna be big AND I WAS RIGHT OMG THIS CHAPTER WAS AHHHHH
ok i’m sorry this is gonna be long full analysis mode.
first of all when reader was reading and remus shows up i would have thrown the book in a panic. she’s better than me coming up with lies out of thin air!!
but also the story about sirius eating a moonflower sounds so cannon to me like he would eat random wildlife and not think about the consequences!!
i screamed when remus sent the note to alice like PLEASE WE ARE RIGHT HERE!!! LET ME LOVE YOU!!! LET SIRIUS LOVE YOU!!! LET US TAKE CARE OF YOU!!! like how do i show you i could treat you better??? ALEXA PLAY TREAT YOU BETTER BY SHAWN MENDES!!!
when i tell i audibly went “oh my god bro WHO INVITED YOU?!?!?” when evan, barty, and snape appeared like how can someone be so entitled??? and the way they were treating reader??? it pissed me off she couldn’t defend herself like shawty needs a gun at this point 🙄 give them a good old american welcome
but when they mentioned the bow???? omg???? I LOVE HOW MY POOKIE WENT THE EXTRA LENGTH TO. PROTECT US AND IT JUST MAKES IT SO MUCH MORE SPECIAL WHEN. SHE GAVE IT TO READER AND THW WHOLE KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOR JOKE LIKE ANDENJSNSKS
leading to the shrieking shack the way barty talks just makes me mad for some reason like idk he’s just so annoying but besides that the way reader didn’t just give up and actually fought to try and get out? i love her and how smart she is like finding a iron poker and trying to open the door and then using the silencing spell to her advantage to be quiet when she was sneaking around to the room and using it as a weapon??? what a clever fox!!!
SPEAKING OF THE ROOM SHE BURST OPEN!! REMUS!!! my boy being so concerned about reader he doesn’t even question why she’s here just trying to make sure she’s ok ☹️ he’s everything! the “ Remus was completely focused on you, he wanted, no, he needed to comfort you.” destroyed me. like his need to comfort reader??? are you kidding me??? sobbing.
AND REMUS FOUND OUT READER KNOWS!!!! OMG FINALLY!!! remus just going “i wanted to tell you” like babe you don’t owe us NOTHING!!!! you don’t need to tell us anything you don’t want to???
but remus asking reader if she knew any defensive spells and reader going you mean MURDER SPELLS?!?!? hell nah i burned that shit. and remus being upset like you need to defend yourself and readers little “if it comes down to me vs you i’m picking you” THROWING MYSELF OFF THE ASTRONOMY TOWER OMG!!!!
ok but can we talk about the “Don’t be so fucking stubborn and bomb the shit out of me.” and reader using that to remember a spell??? how smart is she???? like and the way she was so quick with it too and immediately put up a protective spell over her and remus??? AND THE WAND!!! LETS TALK ABOUT THE WAND LETTING READER USE IT!!!! we all know the whole the witch/wizard doesn’t choose the wand the wand chooses the witch/wizard and how picky the wands can be AND YET REMUS’ WAND LET READER USE IT AS IF IT WERE HER OWN?!?!? I LOVED THAT DETAIL SO MUCH!!!
but back to reader and remus i gasped so loud when reader realized this was exactly like her dreams LIKE NOOOOO!!! but i loved how she used the nightmare to her advantage and used it as a guide almost? AND WHEN SHE USED THE WHOMPING WILLOW AGAINST REMUS!!! (or rather moony) I CANT SAY THIS ENOUGH SHES SO CLEVER AND SMART AND QUICK!!! (ahem ahem 🦊)
when reader ran to the woods instead of the castle my thoughts were “well maybe now she can find the moonflower!” and then it mentions her finding the moonflower and all i can think about is “PROPHET PROPHET!!! IM A PROPHET!!!!” 😭
also the bones of the fox??? and moony just appearing out of no where??? that’s literally horrific. but when she was trying to reason with remus but used moony instead and HE LISTENED!!! THAT WAS SO SMART!!! LIKE I LOVE HOW YOU MADE REMUS AND MOONY TWO DIFFERENT BEINGS!!! AND THE WAY IT SEEMED LIKE MOONY WAS ACTUALLY PAYING ATTENTION AND LISTENING TO READER?!?!? IT WAS SUCH A COOL MOMENT!!! AND I WANT MORE OF THEM INTERACTING!!! because now i’m wondering if the reason why people couldn’t reason with werewolf’s wasn’t because the wizard/ witch couldn’t reason with them but because they’re literally gone and it’s a whole different being that has different relationships and a different personality! which is why moony didn’t want to attack prongs, wormtail, and padfoot! BECAUSE THOSE ARE MOONYS FRIENDS!!!! like how james, peter, and sirius are remus’ friends!!!!! OMG SO MANY THOUGHTS AND I KNOW THEY DONT MAKE SENSE BUT HEAR ME OUT ITS ALMOST OVER!!!
i was so upset when sirius showed up like i wanted to see more of reader and moony see if she could actually convince him to leave her alone but i get it from sirius pov he thought there was no reasoning all he wanted to do was protect reader and the way reader wanted to protect “fang”??? she’s a sweetheart
can we bring up how fucking smart reader is again??? like she keeps on putting everything together so fast it’s scary! the way she realized the animals around her were sirius, james, and peter??? and the way she was just so proud of her friends for becoming an animagus! BUT THE WHOLE “ Finally, you smiled, recalling one last trick you had under your sleeve.” I KNEW IT!!! I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT AND I CANT WAIT TO SEE IT PLAY OUT!!! IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT SINCE I BROUGHT UP THE THEROY IN THE EARLIER CHAPTERS!!!! AND ITS FINALLY COMING AND THE CLIFFHANGER HAS ME IN A CHOKEHOLD!!! I NEED MORE!!!
lord….i’m sorry for how long this is i’ll cut it off here it was an amazing chapter and i can’t wait for more
OK IM GONE!!!
Your theories never fail to amaze me, darling! I freaking love reading them so much! The longer they are and the more I read the more I realize all the tiny little details I've placed in the story are so worth it because my sweet Sherlock Holmes level of detail readers are just the absolute smartest ever?!
Like you're calling reader so smart but you had a theory about what's gonna happen next like 7 weeks ago? You're just as equally clever my little fox! And I would def give you the prophet title too.
And then you see so many things that make writing so worth it, I swear I LOVE THIS!
I love you guys so much, Wednesday is coming sooner than ever, so you will not be hanging off that cliff for so much more.
Read Gilded Constellations Here
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deluxewhump · 2 years
Text
Alex/Cam: Fight (apartment timeline)
CW: current timeline, well past cams graduation, bbu, mentions of sex and dubcon sex, alcohol, vague allusion to past child abuse by a parent, jealousy, messy Cam and Alex issues
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Cam got up at three for a glass of water. The one beside the bed was a day or so old, and his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth from when he’d smoked a bowl earlier in the evening.
He pushed the lever on the fridge for ice, huffing to himself when he heard Alex’s key fumble in the lock.
It was late, even for him.
Cam wouldn’t want to be in the places Alex went lately, all hours of the night with his work buddies talking about colleagues and office jargon no one on the outside would understand or give a shit about.
From what he could see on social media Alex was the least obnoxious one there, anyway. And that was saying something. He truly wouldn’t want to go. Still, sometimes the lack of an invite stung.
Was there a reason Alex didn’t want him there? Ever?
There probably was at least one reason, and her name was probably Rachel or Leah or….God forbid it one of the guys in the pictures where they were all laughing, arms slung easily around each other’s shoulders in the blue light of some club. They were all bombed, eyes bloodshot and faces flushed.
Finally he’d had to stop looking at Alex’s instagram entirely. He deleted the app.
“You smell like a bar ashtray,” he said. The dim light above the stove lit half of Alex’s perfect jaw, his golden eyelashes.
Alex walked past him to toss his keys in the bowl.
“And strawberry chapstick,” Cam added.
Alex paused over the counter, his shoulders stiffening before he turned back around. “If you’re accusing me of something, just do it for fuck’s sake. I’m not doing this right now.”
“Doin’ what? I stated a fact. Two facts.”
“You’re implying things.”
Cam took a swig of water. He knew he should just go to bed. But couldn’t help himself. It was a sore on the roof of his mouth, a scab he wanted to pick at. “What am I implying? If you already know, then what?”
“That it’s a girl's chapstick,” Alex said, his blond hair almost buzz cut short. For summer, he’d said, but Cam thought it made him look like some army recruiter tool at the mall. The kind of guys he used to get in fights with in highschool when they’d try to stiff him for weed.
“And you always comment whenever I drink anything,” Alex continued. “Like it’s some cardinal sin. Have I ever been a dick to you when I’m drinking? Or Zee?”
Cam huffed. “I never said that. But you sure as shit shouldn’t have driven yourself home.”
Alex rolled his eyes. “I’m not your fucking dad, Cam. Jesus.”
It took two quick strides in the dark kitchen for him to grab hold of Alex’s shirt and drive him backwards. Alex took an instinctive step back and Cam took advantage of the moment of unbalance, shoving hard. Alex’s elbow put a crack in the drywall behind him.
He waited for Alex to reach up and grab his forearms, to shove him backwards or sideways, to try and get the upper hand like he always did.
But Alex did nothing. Even when Cam pulled him off the wall and shoved him again, to incite him. He just let him. He winced when he hit the wall, but didn’t fight.
“What’re you doing?” Cam hissed.
“Nothing,” Alex said softly. He could smell the whiskey on his breath. “I’m not doing anything.”
He let go of his shirt.
That was a dirty tactic. Alex was going to say shit about his dead father and then play the victim? Take the high road now?
But it worked. It felt worse than a punch in the mouth ever could. Alex was showing him he was still just Broughton county trailer trash starting fights. And it took almost no effort on his part.
“What’re you, a pacifist?” he breathed. His heart was pounding, he’d been so ready for a fight. “That’s new.”
“I’m not gonna hit you,” Alex said, infuriatingly cool. “Tomorrow you’ll just say I came home drunk and picked a fight. You’ll spin it just how you want it.”
He hated that it was the truth. I’m not your fucking dad. What was that supposed to mean? He knew that. That’s not why he pointed out whenever Alex had been obviously drinking.
It wasn't.
“I’m going to bed,” he said curtly, as if he wasn’t just putting his tail between his legs and bailing.
Alex tugged his wrinkled shirt straight. “Yeah, you do that. Just don’t take it out on Zee.”
“Oh fuck you, Alex.”
“Don’t. I know you still treat him like shit sometimes.”
His anger was whitehot, immediate.
“I treat him like a normal person! You’re the one who tiptoes around him like he’s some kind of freak! You’re …perpetuating what happened by treating him any differently than you would just some other guy we went to school with.”
“I’m sorry, are you here for every conversation he and I have?” Alex hissed. “Do you take notes? I’m not gonna apologize for not fucking our boxboy, Cameron. And deep down you know it’s fucked up that you do. But you can convince yourself of just about anything. That’s your grift. If you could find a way to market that, you’d be all set.”
He paused, as if to let him defend himself. Cam just grit his teeth.
Alex continued. “You’re a hypocrite for being on my ass about these made-up girls you assume I’m seeing. You’re projecting. You’re the one fucking someone else. Not me. I haven’t fucked a girl since Claire. Or anybody but you, for that matter. But you don’t trust me because you don’t trust yourself.”
He gave an absurd yelp of laughter. “I don’t trust you because I know exactly how you are! Before you ever so much as looked at me, my freshman year? You had some girlfriend you cheated on like six times! Everybody knew about it. Did you bullshit her about that shit too? I know she heard about it.”
“Jesus Christ. You don’t know a thing about that. I’m not doing this with you right now. You forgot rent again, by the way. If thirty percent is too much just let me know, I’ll knock it down to twenty. Goodnight.”
“I can’t fuckin’ stand you,” he muttered at Alex’s retreating form. There were angry, helpless tears in his throat. He didn’t know if Alex heard them, but he hoped to hell he hadn’t. He didn’t want Alex having the satisfaction, which he always seemed to possess, whether he gave it willingly or not.
He locked himself in Zee’s room, transferred Alex two grand out of spite, which was six hundred over what he owed from their rent agreement. He pulled it from his savings, from the pathetic sale of his dad's pathetic house that Alex had told him not to touch.
“What were you yelling about?” Zee asked sleepily, his auburn head sticking out from under plaid covers.
“We weren’t yelling.”
“You both raised your voices.”
“Money. Alex being a dick. The usual.”
“Money?” He sounded surprised. “Is … money a problem?”
“Not for you. Not with your wagon hitched to trust fund boy out there.”
He knew Alex didn’t have a trust fund. Still. He’d never have to worry. Not like him. Not like Zee. Alex had lived his whole life confidently walking a balance beam with an intricate network of failsafes beneath him. Cam was walking a tightrope over an abyss. Jagged rocks. The worm monster from Star Wars.
He undid his belt and stepped out of his jeans, crawling into the warmth of the bed Zee generously shared with him a few nights a week.
“My wagons hitched to you,” Zee mumbled, already half asleep again.
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So, I think I’m going to go back and finish The Bugle. It’s a bit weird that I haven’t finished it already, given that it’s one of my favourite things in the world. I left it off after episode 4200, which means 200 episodes into the post-John Oliver era, because for reasons that Andy Zaltzman thinks are funny, he labelled the first post-Oliver one as episode 4001.
The John Oliver era had 295 official episodes, 383 if you count all the filler episodes during off weeks, from October 2007 to June 2016 (395 if you count the entertainingly opinionated daily special reports that Andy Zaltzman did during the 2012 Olympics). Then John Oliver left to go be famous or whatever, and Andy Zaltzman re-invented it as a thing he’d host with a rotating cast of guests from various countries (mainly still England and America, but Australians Alice Fraser and Tom Ballard are among the most common guests, and there are a few regular ones from NZ and India as well).
The first of these, episode 4001, aired in October 2016, but there was a longer gap than there seems based on those dates. By early 2015, John Oliver’s Last Week Tonight commitments got significant enough so episodes became sporadic at best, they put out a lot of filler episodes at first, but eventually the gaps were so long that they gave up on that and just had breaks. Breaks that were interrupted by more filler episodes in which Andy Zaltzman would tell us that they’re going to be back soon because John Oliver swears he’ll have time next week, and then there’s another gap of like three months. The final proper Bugle episode from that era was in March 2016; they then came back with a filler episode in April to tell us they’d be back soon, and finally, one June to say they were giving up on it. I listened to all of those 2015-2016 episodes within a couple of days, and fucking hell, it was painful. By the end, I was shouting Monty Python quotes at them: “This is an ex-podcast! Stop nailing it to its perch and trying to sell it back to us! For the love of God, put it out of its misery with some dignity! Let Andy Zaltzman go roam free in the fjords, or whatever the message of that sketch was!”
Anyway. I listened to all those John Oliver-era episodes in one go, almost literally. It took me just under three months, and that might have been a level of fixation that went too far even by my standards. I had The Bugle playing during every second of my life that I wasn’t asleep, or doing something I absolutely had to do for work. It was probably too concentrated a dose, which would be why I felt genuinely depressed when I got to the end of it. Well, that and the inherent tragedy in the way someone can spend so many years building up something amazing and then outgrow the project and their collaborator, everything beautiful ends, nothing gold can stay, and in the words of Andy Zaltzman, if the sun is going to run out of fire at some stage in the future, what’s the fucking point of doing anything now? I might have been projecting my own issues a little.
I didn’t go back to it for a while, because I knew that if I went straight into the post-Oliver Bugle, I would immediately hate it for not being the old thing, and I wanted to give it a better chance than that. I eventually did start from episode 4001, which aired a few weeks before America’s 2016 election, and was a stilted conversation between Andy Zaltzman and a fairly confused Hari Kondabolu, who clearly did not quite know what he’d signed up for. I spent the whole episode trying not to hate Hari Kondabolu for the crime of not being John Oliver, and it only sort of worked. Since then, The Bugle has found its stride, Hari Kondabolu has figured out what it is, and he’s now one of my favourite guests for them to have on, I’ve even gotten into his own stand-up off the back of his Bugle appearances.
Andy Zaltzman himself has admitted it was a rocky transition. He’s said it wasn’t easy to go from the rapport he’d built up for years with John Oliver, to trying to create something similar with people he didn’t know nearly as well. It got better when he stopped trying to make it another version of what it was before, and let it be something else.
It helped when they started occasionally, and then regularly, having two guests at a time, so they could bounce off each other as well, and the chemistry between Andy Zaltzman and one guest didn’t have to carry the episode by itself. Which is good, because Andy Zaltzman had pitch-perfect chemistry with John Oliver, but does not appear to have that with anyone else in the world. It really is amazing, how the John Oliver/Andy Zaltzman thing is the best chemistry I’ve ever heard (not just between two double act partners, but between any two people who’ve tried to do comedy together in any way), but Andy Zaltzman seems incapable of having a natural-seeming interaction with any other human.
Andy Zaltzman has this combination of a fairly niche sense of humour (vaguely surreal in a way he never explains), a penchant for relatively obscure topics and references in his humour, and just a socially awkward personality, that means that isn’t going to work with almost anyone. In several interviews, I’ve heard him stop just barely short of actually saying he knows he got lucky in 2002 to work with the one person in the world who fit perfectly into his style, and that’s why he created a way to stick with that partnership for as long as he possibly could, even when his partner moved across an ocean and pursued different career directions.
It’s difficult to explain exactly what made the Zaltzman and Oliver thing work so well, but I’m going to try. I think it’s the way they could play off each other during pre-written material as easily as most people do when improvising. Normally on a podcast or TV show or anything like that, you get one or the other. Either it’s pre-written, so it’s dense and high-quality really funny stand-up, or you get the spontaneous back-and-forth of two people just talking to each other. Zaltzman and Oliver managed to do both at the same time, which I’m pretty sure is only possible if two people know each other’s comedy styles incredibly well, and have those styles fit together.
They’ve said that the way they did The Bugle was a phone call a few days before recording to agree on what topics they’d discuss, and then they’d separately write material on those topics, and then take turns reciting that material and mutually riffing on it in the actual recording. I don’t think I know of anything else that does things that way. Gets in solid chunks of properly written material, and then does improvised back-and-forth on top of it. I’m going to guess that the reason most people don’t do that is it’s really really difficult.
It's impressive just to write that much material. Yeah, they sporadically take weeks off in which they release filler episodes. And there have been a few extended gaps – they were gone for much of 2015/2016, and they took the summer of 2014 off. But aside from that, Andy Zaltzman has been regularly writing enough new material to fill his half of a 30-45-ish-minute episode on a weekly basis since late 2007. Obviously not every single second of it is solid gold, but still. A hell of a lot of what he comes up with is very good, and that’s a lot more than most comedians write in a year.
This is why when Daniel Kitson starts talking shit about podcasts, and I immediately find myself getting defensive and saying “Okay, okay, I’m all for complaining about the newfangled internet media that those young people are doing these days, but let’s not start disparaging Andy Zaltzman’s life’s work here,” I then remind myself that this isn’t what he means. Most podcasts are just people talking, mostly unscripted, and it probably is fair to suggest that it’s kind of bullshit for that to be considered on par with actually writing strong material (though also I do think unscripted podcasts can be great fun, and some cover important topics and can say important things, and some are just funny because completely unscripted back-and-forth can be very funny even if that isn’t fair to the people who work hard on crafting material, improv is a skill too, and also Daniel Kitson has done much of his complaining about podcasts on his own unscripted radio shows, though to be fair to him, he also talks about how he doesn’t get paid for those radio shows because he knows they don’t count as actual art or work or whatever, anyway this is another subject). But The Bugle does use carefully written material, and add the other stuff that makes podcasts good, and it’s brilliant. It’s fucking brilliant.
But that goes back to what makes the Zaltzman and Oliver thing special, because you just couldn’t do that with most pairs of comedians. They’d worked together a lot before starting The Bugle – on a few joint Edinburgh shows, hosting the Political Animal gig together in Edinburgh and London for a few years, writing and performing the radio show The Department together, getting joint writing credits on a few TV things like that Rory Bremner sketch. And that pretty much was their careers, from 2003-2006. They had a few other things – I assume they did separate stand-up gigs sometimes; John Oliver did Mock the Week a few times, did guest spots on a few other TV things like Armando Iannucci’s Gash, and had “additional material” writing credits on a few TV shows; Andy Zaltzman had a few Radio 4 guest spots – but just about their entire careers were built on stuff they wrote together. Anything either of them wrote at that time would be heavily influenced by the other.
That did change a bit after that, but only on one side. John Oliver had really really significant other things going on, like writing and performing in the premiere political satire show in America, and Andy Zaltzman was doing the same stuff they’d been doing before, stuff that John Oliver has since described as shit (I do understand why the compulsively self-deprecating John Oliver likes to say his career in England was terrible, but hearing him do too much of that does, once again, trigger my “Okay, let’s not disparage Andy Zaltzman’s life’s work here” defensiveness). Which would be why John Oliver described his experience on The Bugle as great fun and because he got to listen to his friend and brilliant comedian Andy Zaltzman be funny for an hour every week, and Andy Zaltzman has described The Bugle with the words “It saved my career.”
This would also be why, when they talked a lot of shit about Rupert Murdoch in 2011 and then got their funded pulled by TimesOnline (not saying there’s causation there, but definitely correlation) and it looked like The Bugle might not be able to keep running, John Oliver said he’d hate to lose thing he loved doing, and Andy Zaltzman used the words “I’ve got Jack K. shit else going on” to explain why he sounded palpably more desperate to find an alternative funding source.
Honestly though, it is cool that even if the desperation wasn’t nearly as significant, John Oliver did still sound invested in finding a way to keep The Bugle going into 2012, and once they did find a way, he stayed with it for a few more years. He barely needed The Bugle when they started it in 2007, and definitely did not need it by 2012. By then was one of the most successful Daily Show writers/correspondents and regularly traveled all over the United States to perform stand-up – no way did he need the money or any extra fame he’d get out of The Bugle. He was just doing it for the love of the game by then, the world got way more years of John Oliver doing a trans-Atlantic topical podcast than they had any right to, which I try to remind myself when I’m annoyed that it didn’t last forever. I’ve just said it’s impressive that Andy Zaltzman writes as much material as he has to for The Bugle – John Oliver was doing that as his side gig next to the Daily Show.
Having said that, that is why, while they were definitely equal co-hosts and no one was anyone’s sidekick (fuck you, Dominic Maxwell), Andy Zaltzman tended to have more minutes of prepared material in most episodes, and why he was the one doing things like the Bugle blog, finding a lot of the stories, coming up with the more complicated concepts and conceits to try out. Which means that while John Oliver was writing with lots of different people and for lots of different audiences and in lots of different mediums, almost everything Andy Zaltzman wrote was for The Bugle, and therefore for getting picked apart with John Oliver. They established their comedy styles together, and then they kept developing together, with everything Andy wrote and at least some things John wrote getting tested out on each other each week. They didn’t just learn each other’s humour, they created it. Obviously there had to be some compatibility to start with – they both had a few years of trying comedy before 2003, and they both just brought different skills to the table, and at some point figured out that what they already had fit together well. But after that, they had years of taking something that worked, and developing it in the direction of working more and more.
I am convinced that all of this was required to create the magic in those first seven-ish years of Bugle episodes. That’s how they could come to the table with material they had not already tested on the other person, and be confident that it would work. They’ve said they never heard each other’s material before the actual recording, which was a cool way to make the reactions natural, but they didn’t plan it that way specifically to manufacture that effect – it was just done because Johnny Showbiz (as Andy affectionately nicknamed him for seven years, and then repeated with at least a little genuine bitterness in his voice during some of the low points of 2015) could only carve out so much time.
That’s how they were able to create lightning in a bottle with the quality and precision of something pre-planned, and the fun of spontaneity. They were each so good at knowing when to pause in their material to let the other come in on something, and knowing when to keep going because what they had next was going to be better than the interjection. And they knew when to interrupt and when to let the other stay on their roll. They knew how to elicit certain reactions out of each other, and how to react in ways that set up the next bit, even when they didn’t know exactly what the next bit would be. They knew when to go off script and how to go back. They knew how to add bits of their material into the middle of the other’s monologue. They knew how to write their bits so they not only wouldn’t clash with what the other one would write, but would build on it.
Every once in a while there would be some little awkward misstep, like if one of them read out their material on a topic and the other admitted… “Well that’s basically what I had, so no point in me doing mine.” But that sort of thing almost never happened, and when you think about it, that’s fucking impressive. The existence of a few missteps just highlights how impressive it is that they were rare.
They also had other sources of natural double act chemistry. It helps that they clearly find each other genuinely funny. Every Andy Zaltzman monologue is made more delightful by the sound of John Oliver stifling giggles in the background, and every John Oliver rant is made better by hearing Andy Zaltzman choke on his words a little as he tries to respond. You know that thing where people on panel shows will laugh too loudly at someone’s joke, and sometimes I’ve heard that joke said on a different show and those people were both there at that time so they’re clearly just pretending that this is their first time hearing it? I don’t even really mind that, I know that’s how panel shows are going to work. But The Bugle was the absolute opposite of that, and it’s great. No one was pretending anything. They had so much shared history, and if one of them said something the other had heard before, the other would point that out, probably accompanied by some story of who scored the last goal in the football game at which they first told that joke or something like that.
I’ve compared it to a sport before, and I maintain that that comparison. Sometimes, when they get into a really good rhythm, listening to it is exactly as impressive as watching two people who are really really good at a sport do that sport at each other for an extended period of time, with no interruptions, just the purest form of what they do.
In my own sport, you sometimes get that kind of magic when you have two training partners who’ve known each other and worked together for a long time. Person A learns exactly how to respond to everything Person B does, so Person B has to learn how to counter those responses, and then Person A learns how to counter that, and so on and so on. We talk in the sport about first-line/second-line/third-line defence, but if two people work together for long enough, they get into seventh-, eighth-, ninth-line defense. What do you do if you do this and then they do this and then you do this but they do this and you do this and they do this? No matter how good two athletes are, they don’t get that far against opponents they don’t know. The highest level of the sport I’ve ever seen in person has not been in the finals of national championships or at the international tournaments I’ve attended, it’s been in a practice room between two high-level athletes who are longtime training partners.
That’s the best analogy I have for why Zaltzman and Oliver worked. They kept trying to find ways to impress each other and surprise each other, kept finding different ways to respond to the other’s material, kept finding new ways to fit their ideas together. Learned exactly which way to go when one person tries one thing, and then how to respond to that, and they sound like they could go forever.
I’ve found it really sad, in my time in sport, when longtime training partners get split up because one moves away or moves on or something else. It’s a loss to the sport. You can’t just create that again. They were doing something that most people can’t do, and I hate seeing a dynamic that pushed the sport’s boundaries get dissolved.
I did think that when the initial era of The Bugle ended. Though I have to admit… okay, I hate ever admitting that any kind of change might have any upsides, because as a rule, I am no fan of change. But I have to admit that Andy Zaltzman’s comedy did start getting noticeably stronger in the few years that followed that. It had been getting better at a steady rate before that, you can hear it develop as the early Bugle years progressed, but there was a steep incline around 2017, as he began the new era of The Bugle. He jumped a couple of levels all at once.
I’m sure there are multiple reasons for that. He’s a topical and political comedian doing a trans-Atlantic podcast, and this did coincide with some major political shake-ups, trans-Atlantically. So he had new stuff to work with, and maybe some genuine emotional responses that created a more visceral feel to the comedy.
But also, as beautiful as a longtime training partnership can be, I have also, as a coach, sometimes moved around an athlete who’d been working with one person for too long. Told them that I know what they do with their main training partner is great, but there are massive holes in their game in the shape of all the things that one partner doesn’t do, and they need to work with other people to be more well-rounded. I’ve sometimes made the mistake of not doing that in time, and then taken an athlete who did amazing things in the training room with their one partner, sent them into a tournament they should have been good enough to win, and watched them get caught in something easy and obvious because they’d never learned how to respond to it.
I realize I’m stretching the metaphor here, possibly beyond the point where it makes sense, but that might have come into play with Andy Zaltzman. Like I said, John Oliver had other shit going on, but Andy Zaltzman, for years, wrote everything with the intention of fitting it into John Oliver’s contributions. I’ve heard his stand-up from those years – clips of it were often released as Bugle filler episodes, and a few other recordings of it are floating around – and it sounds like pretty much all his stand-up shows consisted of stuff he’d originally written for The Bugle. Which makes sense – he wrote so much for that podcast, he’s not going to write a whole extra hour for Edinburgh every year. He’s going to take the best of what he has.
Andy Zaltzman started trying new things when he wasn’t working with John Oliver anymore. He started combining the surreal stuff with the grounded political points in ways he never had before. Started injecting a little more real emotion into it, possibly because he was no longer playing the dispassionate foil to John Oliver’s grandstanding. I think he might be a better individual comedian now than he would have been if that hadn’t changed.
So he had the new and improved material, and he had new partnerships. Lots of new Bugle co-hosts, all of whom brought different things to the table, and gave him different things to play off. It was awkward at first, but he figured it out. Not really by getting less awkward, but by learning to work around it. Having multiple co-hosts who could play off each other. Starting live shows so they could play off the audience. Making the show about the variety of personalities and comedy styles, about the new features and the advances in Andy Zaltzman’s comedy, rather than the rapport between just two people.
And it’s not like he never had anything going with anyone else. I’d say the real turning point for The Bugle, back into something great, even if different, was when Alice Fraser got on board. She became a regular, and now appears in most episodes, alongside whoever else is there that week. Having that consistency again is good, and of course it’s good that it comes with someone who’s so individually funny, and who fits into The Bugle. Because she is, and she does. She has a similar sense of humour to Andy Zaltzman. She knows Andy’s sense of humour, she’s talked about having listened to The Bugle in the Zaltzman and Oliver days, she knew what she was getting into.
But still… Zaltzman and Fraser are very funny together, I would not call it the same level of “chemistry” as Zaltzman and Oliver. Same with Zaltzman and Kumar, even though Nish is on there a lot as well, and with his longtime friendship with Andy and longtime fandom of the original Bugle, he definitely knew what he was getting into and was the right fit for the show. Alice Fraser and Nish Kumar play effortlessly well off each other when they’re on together. And they clearly both have massive respect for Andy Zaltzman – I get the impression that they would both die for him and/or throw hands to defend his honour, if necessary. And they clearly both find Andy very funny. But still, there is a bit of a beat missing in their back-and-forth with him.
That still works, though. Andy Zaltzman’s relentless lack of chemistry with anyone in the world who isn’t John Oliver (and maybe Mark Steel) can be very, very funny. Awkwardness is funny. The awkwardness that stubbornly sticks around in Andy’s interactions, even with fellow comedians he likes and gets along with and shares a sense of humour with, can definitely be funny. There’s a difference between the awkwardness in early 4000-series Bugle episodes, when Andy clearly had no idea what to do with this Hari Kondabolu person, and the awkwardness of Andy Zaltzman just trying to talk to someone he knows and likes but isn’t quite in step with. The latter is quite entertaining.
Anyway. That’s what The Bugle is. I listened to episodes 4001-4200, from October 2016 to July 2021, last year. I listened to it stumble as it tried to rebuild, and then slowly find its feet, and then turn into something new and fantastic in its own way. I listened to that relatively recent interview in which Tiff Stevenson sounded like she was kind of trying to lead Andy Zaltzman toward admitting that the reborn version of The Bugle is actually better than the original version, and he politely (and awkwardly, as always) declined to do so, saying they’re both excellent and too different to compare.
And then I stopped. It was October 2022, and it was getting too close to the present. I’d started listening to The Bugle for the escapism, and the topical stuff was getting close enough to no longer be escapist. I decided I needed a break, so I put The Bugle on hold while I got into other things. I knew I’d go back and finish it, and I expected to do so sooner than this. I got rather distracted. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting my search for, among other things, Daniel Kitson recordings, to be quite so successful (honestly I lucked into it being unbelievably successful, it got rather out of hand). I was a bit busy discovering the collected works of the greatest comedian of his generation, and telling him to stop being a dick about Andy Zaltzman’s life’s work (and occasionally coming across a recording of Kitson performing with Zaltzman, which is always hilarious due to the absolute dearth of chemistry between them, Kitson has one story about a time when hanging out with Andy Zaltzman for a night was so fucking awkward that he had to cut off a dead pig’s head just to salvage the evening – there were other factors at play to make that evening difficult, but I think Andy Zaltzman also just has that effect on people, they find out they don't have as many human buffers as they were expecting between themselves and Andy, and they start cutting up farm animals).
So I’m going back to The Bugle. I’ve listened to every episode they’ve put out between October 2007 and July 2021, and I really may as well listen to the last couple of years worth of episodes, and bring it up to date. Episode 4261 aired last week, so that’s 61 episodes to catch up on. As I wrote that, and realized there are only 61 more episodes out of the hundreds I’ve already heard, I remember that I also put it on hold because I enjoy it so much that I don’t want to get to the end of it. But it’s all right, because they’re still putting out new ones regularly. Andy Zaltzman has dragged this podcast through so many changes and so many threats to its existence, I’m pretty sure it’s going to be around as long as he still has breath in his lungs and that shed in his backyard where he does his writing and personally keeps political comedy in the UK alive.
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