#what the fuck am i doing with my life lol

[shuadotcom]

HEY SO I'M???????? PASSING AWAY RIGHT NOW AS I TYPE

idk if i ever said this but i fucking love alien aus actually!!!!!!!!!!! it's because i also like aliens (they're one of my mild special interests shall we say) so i will always read an alien au!!!!

Anyway lemme log my real time crash out under the cut!!!!

y/n is so me fr. getting to know my neighbors is also not my priority so felt girl. also her day to day literally me im!!!

y/n: making dinner and listening to scary podcasts

me last night: making spaghetti for dinner and listening to a scary podcast 🧍🏽‍♀️ (also the fact that she's listening to a podcast about appalachia when i literally have a new episode of old gods of appalachia to listen to?? BOOKI ARE YOU IN MY WALLS????)

cackling at just, "cat" because same girl i too panic and just be saying shit lol

the way my brain tried to be like the math lady when you mentioned the bartender like "okay who looks good as a bartender" and i immediately thought of chan from the dream mv and even though you didn't describe him that's all i thought WOOF

idk what kinda intergalactic drink she got from not!dino the bartender but it sounds good and i love an alcyhol that tastes like juice!

i can’t lie the description of joshua's eyes?!?!?!!??!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🫦🫦🫦

y/n is better than me i’m sorry but alien shua on me at the club????? yeah sorry it’s over for me take me back to your spaceship or something i would not be leaving without him idc

also i can’t lie i thought for sure he knew the bartender and had them give her like some sexy alien drink lol

driving into the office

every time he says “hey neighbor” i want to bite my laptop

DAMN WHEN WILL ONE OF MY AUNTS MAKE ME A WHOLE ASS HOMEOWNER 😩 now THAT is a want a need

hES GARDENING?!?!?!? IM SCREAMING THAT IS SUCH A JOSHUA HOBBY. AND HIM IN HIS GRASS STAINED JEANS WITH GARDENING GLOVES??!??!? THAT'S SO DOMESTIC OF HIM ILL CRY

“The point is that your neighbor is a porn star from another planet.” i love this sentence actually

also obsessed with the alien cam website!!!!

“your neighbor’s face came into view, from the nose up. He was very close to the screen but you could tell he was smiling just from the way his eyes turned into crescents.” CRYING BC I CAN SEE THIS SO EASILY AND I KNOW HES ABOUT TO PULL OUT HIS DICK BUT HES SO CUTE MY BABY!!!!

GRAY SWEATPANTS?!?!?!?!!?!???!?!?!!? BOOKI ARE YOU INSANE??????? WE JUST STARTED AND THAT ALONE HAS ME FOAMING AT THE MOUTH I TOO WOULD BE IN HIS CHAT WILDIN OUT

IM FUCKING SCREAMING AT Y/N'S CHAT NAME. WHEN I SAID HELLO NEIGHBOR DID SOMETHING TO ME I DIDNT KNOW WE WERE GOING HERE WITH IT 🫠-

"Do you want to taste it, neighbor? You wanna come over and see what my cock tastes like?”

“Want me to come over and fuck that cute, tight little human cunt?”

“Just let me in and eat you out already,” he said with a smirk.

PINK CUM IS CRAZY FUCKING????? THAT COMPARED WITH THE DESCRIPTION OF HIS ALIEN DICK IS DOING THINGS TO MY LIFE SPAN

ALSO JUST THE WHOLE CAM SCENE LIKE I LITERALLY COULDVE BLASTED OFF JUST FROM THAT ACTUALLYBAAAAHHHHHHH

I KNEW HE WAS LEAVING TO COME OVER OH FUCK

CHERIES?!?!!? CHERRIES?!?!?!!?!?!?! THE SFEWORD BEING CHERRIES I ALMOST SHUT THIS FUCKING COMUTER BOOKI

“Tell me what you like,” he continued, his hand sliding down the side of your neck, watching how you reacted, head tilting back slightly. His fingers wrapped around your neck and you let out a moan as he squeezed gently. “Choking, got it,” he said, his voice slightly amused. DJHKFBCVEFRCV FR VNWLVCNADFJBHLV FDJACkdjnfvkewrngvKSDNFKEGEWGVWrdfgdnjfdcv

DOMINATE ME YES THATS WHAT IM SAYING GIRL ME NEXT!!!!

flavored spit is actually doing my head in right now i want you to know that

HIS TONGUE??????!!!!!!!!!!!!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!? JESUS CHRST

“You wanna taste it?” sTOP SAYING THIS I AM UNWELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

HIS P I N K FUKING CUM IS AN APHRODISIAC,!?$?!?!!!!!!!!!!

He leaned over, his fingers wrapping around your throat. “You still want this?” he asked, to which you nodded. “Then do exactly what I tell you,”

“Have I already fucked you dumb, sweetheart?”“So pathetic and dumb just from a little bit of alien cock? What a good human slut. Are you gonna be good for me?” he asked, fingers tightening around your neck. YOU DONT UNDERSTAND THERE ARE ACTUAL TEARS IN MY EYES IM GOING TO PASS OUT WHATHE FUCK IS HIS PROBLEM!>?!!?!!?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!??!?!!?!?!?!!?!?

HE HAS A FUCKING. KNOT????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OHMY FUCK ME NEXT ME NEXT I WANT TO BE LOCKED TOGETHER WITH ALIEN PORNSTAR JOSHUA FOREVER

BOOKI WHAT THE FUCK THIS WAS SO GOOD THANK YOU SO MUCH IM GOING TO READ THIS 5000200000 MILLION MORE TIMES ITS SO GOOD IM OBSESSED WITH HIM ABSOLUTELY WHIPPED FOR ALIEN PORN STAR SHUA ACTUALLY AND WILL THINKBOUT HIM FOREVER IM SO CRAZY YTHANKYOU I LVOEYOU YOU BROKE ME

HELP! My Neighbor is an Alien a Porn Star — h.joshua

Neighbors come and go and for Y/N, this is inevitable. Which is why she never bothered to get to know her neighbors. She owns her townhouse while the two on either side of her are rentals. When a new neighbor moves in, she doesn’t think much of it until she sees the extremely attractive and single man moving in next door. She learns his name is Joshua and that there’s more than meets the eye; a whole lot more. alien!Joshua × fem!Reader

» back || m.list || taglist « ❑ WORDCOUNT 13k (i'm not sorry anymore lol) ❑ WARNINGS — adult dialogue, female reader, sex work, mentions of: food & alcohol consumption, aliens, porn, cam work; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! ❑ CONTENT — fluff (in the form of comedy), smut (hella); sex work, porn industry, neighbors to lovers; non idol au, alien au, porn star au ❑ NOTES — this is my submission for @ddeonghwa-s cupid event. Hello, hello @shuadotcom it is I! Your cupid! This was so much fun to write and the premise was so fun to come up with! I hope you like your alien!Joshua! I love this concept so much and I could definitely be convinced to return to this in the future. This is not proofread because I didn’t have time 😭thank you all for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. 

❑ SMUT WARNINGS: voyeurism, watching porn/cam show, masturbation (male receiving), oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (do not do. especially with an alien), sex with an alien (lol), joshua has an alien cock (which is described in full detail so enjoy that image), use of pet names (baby, sweetheart), mild degradation, praise (f receiving), joshua’s precum is an aphrodisiac (pretty cool tbh. aliens are fun to write) so there’s that and also cum eating??, choking (f receiving), and I think that’s all of them lol but of course, let me know if I missed anything!

One of the things that came with living in the suburbs was neighbors but for you, getting to know them was never a priority. Owning your townhome meant you were a constant in the neighborhood while your neighbors were not. The townhomes on either side of you were rental properties with a plethora of families coming and going depending on how long the lease was.

Despite not taking the time to get to know them, you still made a conscious effort to be a good neighbor, never causing problems or resolving any that popped up. Most of the neighbors you had were families with young children or young couples still in the first few years of marriage. There were the occasional single professionals that moved in but they were far and few between.

So when you woke up one morning and headed down to make a cup of coffee before clocking into your work from home job, the sight of the box truck parked outside the house wasn’t a surprise. You walked over to the large bay window, spreading the slats of the blinds to peer outside.

The box truck must have pulled up while you were still upstairs as the back was now open and workers were moving briskly to unload items from the back. As you watched, you wondered who your new neighbor was going to be. Would it be another family like the last ones? Or maybe a couple of young professionals.

Letting the slats fall back in place, you turned from the window to go about your day, heading into your downstairs office off the main entry and shutting the doors to close off the rest of the home from your working space. You took a seat at the desk, setting your coffee on its designated coaster and powered up your dual screen pc. While it booted up, you sipped on your coffee, eyes occasionally drifting to the window where you could still see some of the movers unloading boxes and furniture.

The jingle of your computer home screen loading drew your attention back to the task at hand: work.

The rest of your morning consisted of checking emails, starting on reports and reviewing itineraries. It wasn’t a glamorous job but it afforded you a comfortable living and to pay your bills while also adding to your savings and being able to spend money on your hobbies.

When it was lunch time, you broke away from your screen and picked up your phone, scrolling through the various delivery options before deciding on something that sounded good and was relatively close. You placed your order and decided to leave your office and check to see if the mail had arrived.

Upon opening the door, you could see that the box truck was still parked but that the movers seemed to be finishing up. Walking down the steps from your porch, you glanced over to the townhouse that had sat vacant until today. Amongst the movers who wore khaki uniforms of short sleeve button downs and black pants, was a man who was dressed entirely different.

You opened your gate, stepping out to the cluster of mailboxes you found the mail had indeed come. You quickly opened yours with your key, pulling out the various envelopes, sneaking glances at your new neighbor as he spoke to who you could only assume was the boss of the movers. He had black hair, pushed back off his forehead.

He wore a simple white tee shirt, light wash jeans, and a pair of sneakers. He looked relatively ordinary. As you shut your mailbox door, you moved back to your gate, opening it. At the sound of the gate latch, the man looked in your direction. You quickly averted your eyes and made your way back to your steps.

You chanced a glance at the man, finding his attention was back on the moving company boss. You returned to the safety and privacy of your home, mail clutched against your chest as you shut your door. You shook yourself and headed into your office, grumbling about looking and feeling like an idiot.

It wasn’t like you weren’t supposed to be there. This was your neighborhood, too. You were perfectly within your rights to collect your mail and it was only natural that you would be curious about the new neighbor moving in. So why did you feel so strange?

You didn’t have much time to dwell on it as the sound of your doorbell made you jump, the letter in your hands you were about to open flying through the air and landing on your desk. You mentally scolded yourself for being so jumpy and got up, moving to the front door where you peered through the glass, shifting the small curtain to find the delivery driver with your food.

You opened the door, collecting your lunch with a ‘thanks’ and a generous tip before retreating once more into your home and carrying the takeout to your kitchen.

After lunch, you returned to your office, sorting through your mail before clocking back in for the rest of your shift. As the day wound down, you finalized your reports and submitted them before checking in for an end of the day meeting. It wasn’t a long meeting, fortunately, and you mostly just had to listen, occasionally giving your input before you were finally released and allowed to clock out.

After powering down your computer for the day, you left the office, heading into the kitchen to get started on making dinner. It was a mostly quiet affair, listening to one of your favorite scary story podcasts while you cooked a simple meal.

Once finished, you sat down to eat, continuing your podcast and listening to the narrator tell stories about the horrors of backpacking through Appalachia, something you would never do solely because of the stories you’d heard. Not that being outdoors was really much of your thing. You were more of an inside cat.

After eating and cleaning up, you made sure the downstairs was locked up and headed up to your bedroom, drawing yourself a nice, relaxing bath with the rest of your open bottle of wine. The bath was less about getting clean and more about relaxing as it was thankfully the weekend and you were now allowed to hide away in your home for two days before returning to the office on Monday morning.

As you soaked in the tub, you thought about your new neighbor. Was he the only one living in that big house? Did he have a family? A partner? Children? Answers that you would definitely not learn tonight but surely you would meet him in passing at some point. Perhaps you would find out then.

Then again, you never really made much of a conscious effort before to get to know your neighbors on more than a surface level, sharing names and basic information like job titles and pleasantries. You’d never invited a neighbor over for dinner nor had been invited over. You preferred it that way.

You had friends, you weren’t looking for any more.

The next day, you slept in, enjoying the warmth of your nest of pillows and cocoon of blankets for as long as you could before your subconscious nagged at you to finally get up and start the day. On a normal day, you would be up by 6 am, making breakfast or taking a shower before you had to clock into work at 8 am. Today however, you slept in until 9 before guilt wracked you for wasting the morning.

You went about your day, making a simple breakfast of eggs, sausage, and some sauteed vegetables. You downed your breakfast with some coffee before deciding today you would get your shopping done. Every weekend, you stocked up on groceries that were running low. After getting ready and donning more appropriate clothing, you ventured into your garage, located on the backside of your townhouse and got into your car.

The drive to the nearest market wasn’t long and you enjoyed the mostly empty streets and mild weather by singing and dancing along to your playlist. Drumming your fingers against the steering wheel to the beat and bobbing your head, you pulled into the parking lot of the market, pulling into a space and putting your car into park before shutting off the engine.

As you got out, you grabbed your bag of reusable totes from the trunk of your car and headed for the door, grabbing a cart and pulling out your list, kept conveniently on your phone. Walking up and down the aisles, you grabbed the items from your list, marking them off as you set them down in the basket.

As you rounded up your shopping, your phone started to vibrate in your hands and you checked the screen, seeing the face of your best friend along with her contact name. A smile crept over your face as you slid the bar across the bottom of the screen to answer, holding the device up to your ear.

“Hi Jiji,” you said softly. “Y/N! Where are you? I’m at your house and —” You let out a sigh as you maneuvered your cart, one-handed, through the store towards the check out area. “Jiji,” you said, trying to hide your exasperation. “I’m at the store. You know you’re supposed to tell me when you’re coming over before you get there, right?” you asked as you got into the queue to wait for an available terminal.

“I know,” your best friend started. “I was in the neighborhood and —”

Your brows furrowed at your best friend’s obvious lie. “You’re never just in the neighborhood, Youngji,” you countered. “Don’t pull that with me.” You heard her click her tongue impatiently. “Okay, you’re right but that’s not why I’m calling. When were you going to tell me you got a new neighbor?” You rolled your eyes as you neared the start of the queue. 

“When I saw you tonight,” you answered. “Like a normal person would.” There was silence on the other end. “Oh… well, when will you be home?” she asked, sounding like a bored child. “I’m in line to check out,” you explained. “I have another errand to run and then I’ll be home.” You heard Youngji whine on the other side of the line. “Just let yourself in,” you said with a chuckle. “You know where the spare key is.”

You heard Youngji fumble with something. “Oh you’re right. Let me make sure no one is watching,” she murmured before you heard movement. “Got it!” she said triumphantly. You could hear the sound of her putting the key into the lock and the click of the latch as it unlocked. The sound of the door opening and shutting came over the line before you heard her turn the lock.

“I’m in,” she said in a whisper. “I’m gonna raid your fridge,” she added. You snorted as one of the checkout terminals opened up and you pushed your cart towards it. “It’s empty, so good luck,” you said as you started to unload your times. “I’m checking out now,” you announced as you heard the fridge open. “Boo, you suck,” Youngji whined. “Goodbye,” you continued and hung up, pocketing your phone. 

As you continued to scan your items, you glanced up, eyes landing on the person at the self checkout machine across from yours. It was him. Your new neighbor. He glanced up, meeting your eyes. Your cheeks burned at being caught and you quickly offered a polite smile before returning your attention back to scanning and bagging your items.

You could feel his eyes on you and when you glanced back up, you saw them still looking at you as he scanned his own items, bagging them without looking. Seeing him this close, you could see that his eyes were a striking ombre of yellow and green and it caused your breath to catch in your throat. Either he had some really kick ass contact lenses, or he wasn’t human.

Upon meeting your gaze, he offered a mischievous smile, one where you could see that his teeth were slightly off, and definitely not human. The canines were too sharp and a little too long. You lowered your eyes and finished scanning your items, placing them into the reusable bags.

You quickly pulled out your loyalty card, scanning it and hoping for some deals before you started to finish up your transaction. Following the on screen prompts, you pressed the buttons for payment and card before holding your card over the reader until it beeped. Once your receipt printed out, you put your bags into your cart and pushed it away from the check out, not sparing another glance back.

Out in the parking lot, you returned to your vehicle, popping the trunk and placing your bags into the back before shutting the lid and pushing your cart into the cart return area. As you turned, you nearly ran into a cart pushed by none other than your new neighbor who had the same mischievous smirk on his face. “Pardon me,” he said, his voice lower and more honeyed than you were expecting. It simultaneously sent chills up your spine but also sent a wave of calm over you.

He was definitely not human. 

“Apologies,” he added as you stepped aside, allowing him to push his cart into the slot behind yours. “D-don’t worry about it,” you stammered as he turned to look at you, those same piercing eyes looking back at you. “I should be going,” you added, taking a step backwards. “You’re my neighbor, aren’t you?” he asked, leaning casually against the metal fence surrounding the cart return.

You nodded slowly as he looked at you. “Y-yeah,” you said breathlessly. A smile spread across his face before he held his hand out for you to shake. “Joshua,” he said in what you assumed was an introduction. You hesitantly took his hand, feeling the heat radiating off him. “Y/N,” you responded in a much softer voice than you intended.

Just as quickly as he took your hand and shook it, he let go, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said, putting an emphasis on your name. You couldn’t deny, you liked the way your name sounded when he said it. “You too, Joshua,” you answered. He tilted his head like a curious puppy. “So,” he started, taking a step forward, closer, towards you.

“Do you live alone?”

His question seemed to snap you out of whatever trance you seemed to be in and now that the allure of his smile was no longer clouding your judgement, your entire body was screaming at the danger it sensed. “No,” you lied. Joshua stopped to stare at you. “You don’t live alone?” he asked curiously. You shook your head. “No,” you answered again. “I have a –” you trailed off. What lie could you get away with. A roommate? A parent? A boyfriend? At some point he might notice if no one else showed up.

“Cat,” you finally said. ‘What the fuck?’ Joshua’s confused expression morphed into amusement. “Ahh, a cat.” You mentally scolded yourself. ‘What the fuck was that? How the hell is that going to deter anyone? A fucking cat???’ You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, a cat.”

Silence fell over the two of you before you finally broke it.

“Well, I should be going. Nice to meet you!” you said quickly before turning and making a beeline for your car. “Nice to meet you too, Y/N,” he called. You quickly unlocked your car and got in, shutting and locking the doors before fighting with your seatbelt. Once it clicked into place, you started the car, checking the coast was clear before hastily pulling out of the space and hurrying out of the parking lot as fast as you could without hurting anyone or violating any laws.

Your second errand only took a few minutes and soon, you were pulling into your garage, the door shutting behind you as you got out of your car and started unloading your groceries. Entering your home, you heard the subtle sounds of the TV and deposited your bags on the kitchen island. Turning around, you found Youngji lounging on your couch, remote in hand as she flipped through the channels.

“Welcome home, dear,” she called jokingly from her spot. “How was your day?”

You grimaced as you removed your jacket and moved to hang it up in the small hall near your garage entrance and kicked off your shoes, opting for your house slippers instead. You returned to the kitchen and started unpacking your groceries. “If you’re going to pretend like you live here, you can at least help me put the groceries away,” you said, looking over at her.

Youngji turned off the TV, tossing the remote onto the cushion beside her before getting up with a groan and making her way into your kitchen, wearing a pair of guest slippers. “Did you bring me any snacks?” she asked as she peered into one of the bags. You lightly tapped her on the head with an unopened plastic jar of grated parmesan.

“No snooping,” you said as you continued to pull everything out. “Just unload.”

As she helped, you chatted, talking about your respective weeks. As you started to put your things away, Youngji hopped up onto the kitchen counter, handing you things. “So,” she started as she handed you an unopened bottle of your favorite wine. “Your new neighbor.”

You stood up straight, taking the bottle from her and looking up at her nervously. “What about them?” you asked as nonchalantly as you could, bending over to lay the bottle of wine on its side on the bottom shelf of the fridge. “Have you met them?” Youngji asked as you stood up straight. “Yeah,” you answered vaguely. “I met him.” Youngji’s expression lit up.

“Him? As in singular man? Living next door?”

You looked up at her, noticing the excitement in her eyes. “No,” you said, pointing at her with your finger. “Don’t look at me like that!” Youngji pouted instantly as you continued putting away your perishables. “Oh come on!” she whined as you shut the refrigerator door. “Is he single?” she asked as you moved to start putting away the pantry items.

“I don’t know,” you answered truthfully. “I didn’t ask.”

Youngji hopped down and moved to lean against the wall next to the pantry opening, arms crossed over her chest. “You met him but didn’t talk about the basics?” she asked. You looked at her as you set a new bag of rice on the shelf. “We didn’t really have a chance to talk,” you admitted. “I met him at the store while I was checking out.”

Youngji narrowed her eyes. “Is that why you hung up on me?” she accused. You shook your head. “No,” you answered. “I hung up on you because I needed both hands to scan my items and put them away. Stop jumping to conclusions,” you added. Youngji stuck her tongue out at you as you finished putting the groceries away.

“Well, what’s he like?” Youngji asked as you moved to grab the non-food items to put away. She followed you through the house as you put away your laundry detergent in the laundry room. She continued to follow you as you took your toiletry refills upstairs to your linen closet.

“His name is Joshua,” you offered when she asked for his name. “That’s as much as I got.” Youngji wandered behind you as you led the way back downstairs. “No job?” she asked. You turned to face her as you reached the kitchen. “I didn’t get to ask and he didn’t offer the information.”

Youngji frowned as you opened the fridge and started to pull out the things you needed to make dinner. Your best friend moved to sit at the kitchen island. “So,” she started as you grabbed the necessary pans and set them on the counter. “What’s for dinner, boss?”

Dinner was a regular affair, sipping on wine as the pasta boiled and chicken cooked. Youngji was great company and always knew how to keep the conversation going, cracking jokes and telling amusing tales of her coworkers’ antics.

After finishing your early dinner, you headed upstairs to get changed and ready to go out. It was Saturday night and twice a month, you accompanied Youngji out to the city to visit her favorite club and let loose. You opted for a fitted, black dress that hugged your curves and fell just above your knees. Paired with the only pair of red bottom shoes you owned and a simple black clutch, you joined your best friend downstairs to put on your shoes and grab your jackets while you waited for the rideshare to arrive.

Youngji had donned a similar fitted dress but in white with a different neckline and long sleeves, over which she wore a black denim cropped jacket and wore black pumps with silver heels. Her clutch, which was a cross body with a chain strap, hung off her shoulder and the body of the purse was a vibrant red. You’d gone more subtle on your makeup but Youngji had, as always, gone bold with a dark smokey eye and nude lip.

Your uber arrived shortly after and Youngji led the way out of your house, letting you close and lock the door behind you. The black, four door sedan had tinted windows but the driver in the front seat matched the picture on the app, as did the license plate. You followed your best friend into the backseat, settling into the black leather interior.

The ride to the club wasn’t far but took longer with the traffic as you neared the heart of the city. As the car pulled up to the entrance of the club, you thanked the driver, handing her a cash tip and getting out of the car, curbside. Youngji joined you on the sidewalk as the car pulled into the flow of traffic and you turned to join the thankfully short queue into the club.

The location of the club was off the main strip of the downtown area so it never got exceedingly busy but it was still always full of people when you arrived. You never had to wait in line for long though and soon you were handing your IDs over to the bouncer and being directed inside where you paid your cover charges. The charge was higher than other clubs, but the higher cover charge meant the drinks were cheaper.

After turning your jackets into the coat room and getting your tickets, which you tucked into the safety of your clutches, you made your way to the bar, keeping a firm hold on Youngji’s hand as she led the way through the throngs of people on the dance floor. The music the DJ played was always a good mix of different genres that always got people dancing. He definitely knew what he was doing.

At the bar, you squeezed between the other patrons, next to your best friend so you could order something simple. There were several bartenders, bustling about as they got drink orders, made drinks, stocked the station, and other usual duties that came with the job. You ordered something with cherries. 

When you got your drink, you were surprised to find it was green with green cherries. The bartender, a very attractive man with a black button down under a black vest, gave you a wink as he set the drink down before you. You thanked him but before you could hand him your card, Youngji beat you to it, opening a tab and telling you it was on her tonight.

After getting your drinks, you nursed them at the end of the bar as you looked around for either an empty seat or table. Youngji must have spotted one because she grabbed your hand and started steering you away from the bar and around the dance floor. As you neared the corner, you noticed two empty chairs and quickly snagged them, thankful to find somewhere to sit.

“How is that?” Youngji asked, eyeing your very green drink. You glanced down at it. “It’s good,” you replied over the bass that reverberated through the club and vibrated against your feet. Youngji silently held her hand out for your drink which you handed over. She took a sip, eyes widening as she handed it back. “That’s good, what is it?” she asked. You shrugged as you took another sip. “No idea,” you replied. “I taste sprite and melon though,” you added, taking another sip.

You continued to nurse your drinks as you listened to the music and watched the other patrons. One of the main reasons you came out here was to people-watch. It was fascinating to see how others interacted, especially strangers. When you finished your drink, Youngji got up and went to retrieve two more, bringing back two of the same drink you had received from the bartender.

“It’s some special drink for the night,” Youngji said as she sat down, handing you one of the drinks. “Mean Green or something like that,” she added. You took another sip, enjoying the taste. It was one of those drinks where you could barely taste the alcohol and in your experience with the club scene, you were well aware that drinks that tasted like juice were dangerous.

The alcohol had a way of sneaking up on you.

After downing a second and eventually a third drink, you were loose enough to throw your inhibitions away and join your best friend on the dance floor. The music, a mix of a couple sounds you’d heard in passing, played, drowning out almost all other sound as you enjoyed this time you got to spend with your best friend.

When you first moved to this city after graduating from college, which felt like a lifetime ago, Youngji was one of the first people you met. She worked at your last job. You were both fresh out of college, in debt, and needing work so entry level was the only thing you could find.

Youngji had immediately latched onto you and quickly became your closest work friend. After a few years of attempting to make your way up the corporate ladder, you found a much better paying job and Youngji was the first to encourage you to go for it. When you left, you had expected that your friendship with Youngji wouldn’t last but she continued to text and call, inviting you out and your friendship blossomed into more than just coworkers. You became actual friends.

Eventually, she left that job as well and went in a completely different direction in her career and now you were both settled and comfortable in your careers. Youngji lived in the city in a cute apartment on the edge of downtown that overlooked the river while you lived in a townhouse which had been a gift from your late aunt.

The next logical step now that you were settled was finding someone to share your life with but you weren’t in a rush to find anyone. Youngji was also in that stage where she was looking but not too seriously. You were just enjoying your life and living vicariously.

As the music changed again, Youngji leaned in to speak into your ear. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” she said over the music. You nodded to show you understood and told her you’d wait right there. You were having too much fun, feeling the music and dancing. You were well past the stage where you felt embarrassed or too anxious to do anything by yourself.

As your body swayed, your eyes shut and you continued to move to the beat. The lights seemed to mimic the crowd, dancing over the people in time to the music. You started to turn when you felt a warm body press into you from behind. Your eyes snapped open instantly, knowing it was impossible for it to be your best friend. They were too tall.

Turning in their hold, your eyes met those same green-yellow ombre eyes.

“Well, hello, neighbor,” Joshua said, an amused smirk on his face as he looked down at you.

“J-Joshua?” you asked, your voice barely audible over the music. Your body had stopped swaying as you stared back at him. “What’re you doing here?” He tilted his head curiously, those yellow-green eyes staring into your soul and seemingly glowing under the club lights.

“It’s a club, Y/N,” he answered. “I’m here to partake in this…” he trailed off, looking around at the dancing patrons surrounding you. “Revelry.” You stared up at him, heart pounding in your chest and echoing in your ears. “Am I not supposed to be here?” he asked, moving closer until his body was pressed right up against yours. 

“Is this your special place? Should I find somewhere else to go and watch the people of this planet drink and make fools of themselves?” he asked, hands skimming over your hips as he drew you closer, holding you tight against him. You shook your head, staring at him wordlessly. “No,” you finally said, breath leaving your lungs as he leaned in closer.

“No,” you said again, clearing your throat and finding the will to push him back. “I’m uh…” you hesitated, closing your eyes and your brow furrowing. The club had started to spin and you were getting dizzier and dizzier by the minute. “Y/N?” Joshua asked, hands gently grabbing yours. “Are you alright?” he asked. You shook your head, attempting to shake yourself out of whatever this was.

You looked up at him as his face came back into focus. “Yeah,” you gasped. “I’m fine. I need to go find my friend. Enjoy your night.” You pulled away from him and started to push through the crowd only for him to catch up to you, gently grabbing your hand. “Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked, all amusement gone from his expression, replaced only with concern.

You forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay. Have a good night, neighbor,” you said, attempting to banter back with him. Whatever it was in your tone seemed to work and a small smile came over his face. “Alright, neighbor.”

You quickly found Youngji and after telling her about your almost spill on the dance floor, she agreed it was time to leave. You left out the part about running into Joshua as you retrieved your jackets while Youngji closed her tab at the bar. Outside, you waited for your rideshare on the sidewalk. The line for the club now extended down the side of the building and around the corner.

Your uber arrived shortly after stepping outside and after dropping Youngji off at her apartment, the driver took you back to your home in the suburbs. You thanked him, handing over an additional tip as you opened your door and stepped out.

The walk up to your front door was slow and sluggish and your body felt hot, despite the cool night air. It was a heat that radiated from deep within you and you couldn’t quite place it. Perhaps it was the alcohol but it didn’t feel quite right. As you unlocked your door, a car passed on the street behind you but you paid it no mind as you let yourself into your home, shutting and locking the door behind you.

You dragged yourself upstairs after checking to make sure your home was locked up and barely stripped yourself of your dress and shoes before collapsing into bed where exhaustion and sleep overtook you. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or the run in with your handsome neighbor, but your dreams that night were weird to say the least.

Weirder than usual.

When you woke the following morning, you couldn’t really remember much of them other than your neighbor starred in them and they were accompanied by that same deep seated heat that had thankfully dissipated by morning. The rest of your weekend was spent doing chores. You cleaned your house, did the laundry, and the dishes.

The morning had started out very gray and by afternoon, the clouds hadn’t dispersed and a light rain had settled in. You decided to light a few candles and camp out in the front room in front of your TV while you folded your laundry and caught up on your favorite show.

The rest of the day passed in a similar fashion and soon you were falling into bed.

Your sleep was plagued with the same strange dreams with Joshua. You weren’t sure what it all meant and you weren’t able to learn anything else as you woke up abruptly when your alarm cut through your subconscious. It was still dark out when you pulled yourself out of bed to shower and start your day.

It was the one day a week you were required to be in the office. Your job was mostly work from home but you had to go to the office every Monday for in person weekly meetings which were always done on Mondays. The commute to the office was the worst part, driving downtown, parking in the company parking garage, and making your way to the lobby and then up to the fifteenth floor.

The day dragged on but you were thankful that it was just today that you would be required to go in and then you could lounge about at home and get your work done. When the clock finally read half past four, you were beyond relieved to be leaving and heading home.

The commute back was much more enjoyable due to less traffic and you weren’t required to head back for another week.

You pulled into your garage and got out, letting yourself into the house where you were quick to rid yourself of your jacket and shoes. As you headed into your living room, you caught sight of the mail truck outside and sighed. ‘Right,’ you told yourself. ‘The mail.’

You retrieved your shoes and put them on at the front door, stepping out into the cool air and making your way down the steps. As you were halfway to the gate, you noticed a familiar face at the mailboxes and stopped in your tracks. Joshua. You were contemplating turning around and head back in to wait until he was gone but when his eyes flickered up and he caught sight of you, it was too late.

You committed and continued down the pathway, opening your gate and stepping out onto the sidewalk. “Hey neighbor,” Joshua said as he unlocked his slot, pulling out his mail and shutting it before stepping aside and allowing you to do the same. He sorted through his mail, checking to make sure it was all assigned to him while you pulled your own bills and other junk from your little metal box.

“Hey,” you said softly. As you shut the small door, locking it, Joshua spoke up. “Are you feeling any better?” he asked, his voice sounding genuinely concerned. You looked up at him. With a smile you nodded. “Yeah,” you answered. “Just tired from the day. Had to go into the office today.” He glanced down, taking note of your attire. “So where do you work?” he asked, 

“Just at a firm downtown,” you answered. “I mostly work from home but once a week, I have to go into the office. Makes my Mondays just that more awful,” you joked with a light chuckle. Joshua mimicked your amusement. “What do you do?” he asked, sounding mildly curious.

You spent the next couple minutes explaining the nuances of your job and what you did on a day to day basis. “It sounds much more tedious than it is,” you added. “It’s not a glamorous or highly important job,” you added. “But it pays really well. Allows me to live a comfortable life.” Joshua nodded slowly.

“And rent such a beautiful home?” he asked, a smile gracing his face. You shook your head. “No,” you answered. “I actually own my townhome.” His expression shifted to awe. “Your salary covers your mortgage?” he asked, sounding impressed. You shook your head. “No,” you answered. “I actually inherited this place from my aunt,” you explained.

Joshua leaned against the gate, glancing back at your place. “It’s a beautiful home,” he said with a smile. You echoed his expression. “My aunt loved this place. She took great care of it and actually renovated it from the bottom to the top.” Joshua glanced down at you. “She did a great job.”

You looked up to meet his gaze. Silence fell as you stared at one another. Finally you broke eye contact and cleared your throat. “So, uh,” you stared. “What about you? What do you do for work?” Joshua’s smile shifted into a smirk for the briefest of moments but before he could answer, you heard the sound of a phone ringing. He apologized softly, digging into his pocket and pulling out his phone.

His eyes read the contact on the screen and you watched as his brow furrowed slightly. He finally looked up at you. “Sorry,” he said with a kind smile. “I have to take this. It was nice talking to you,” he continued. “Enjoy the rest of your evening,” he added before turning away and heading towards his own gate, answering his phone and holding it to his ear.

You watched as he headed towards his front door and disappeared into his home before making your way back to your own front door. Once inside, you went about your night, making dinner, eating, and then settling down for bed. As you lay there, your mind wandered back to Joshua.

You’d never really bothered to get to know your neighbors before, at least nothing past surface level.

Perhaps just this once, you could make an exception.

Over the next couple days, you continued to run into Joshua, whether it be at the mailbox or the store. You managed to chat with him each time and learned more and more about him. He worked in the entertainment industry but kept the details vague which you could understand for that line of work. You also learned that apart from being extremely good-looking, kind, and hardworking, that he was also very single and had signed at least a two year lease on the townhouse next door. Since it was just him, he’d turned one of the extra bedrooms into a home gym. 

He seemed almost as interested in you as you were in him but despite the occasional flirting, he never really made a move. He also never said or did anything that made you feel uncomfortable and after a couple weeks of interacting with him, his inhuman qualities started to feel less shocking and the feeling of alertness or danger that had accompanied him started to dissipate into the background.

You knew he wasn’t human but that didn’t seem to bother you or anyone else around the two of you.

Nearly two months had passed by since Joshua had moved in. It was Friday which meant the weekend was coming up. Youngji was coming over as planned for dinner and Joshua had managed to catch you outside while you were getting your mail. 

Joshua had started a new home project now that the weather was starting to warm up and you caught him in the middle of gardening. He was dressed in an old pair of jeans, the knees stained with grass and dirt, a plain white tee shirt, also smeared with bits of dirt tucked into his jeans and a dirty pair of work boots. He was leaning against the fence that separated your yards, a pair of gardening gloves on his hands, and a trowel in one hand.

You had been in the midst of conversation when you heard a car door shut and glanced out towards the street to find Youngji gathering her bag from the passenger seat of her car. She looked up as she reached the gate and her eyes went wide. “Youngji!” you said, waving her over. This was the first time she had come over while Joshua was out so this was the first time she’d ever seen your neighbor.

“This is Joshua,” you said as she let herself in, staring wide-eyed at your neighbor as she approached. Joshua removed one of his gloves and extended a hand for her to shake. She slowly took it, eyes still wide and staring at him, almost as if she were in a trance. Joshua seemed to have that effect on most people he met. She finally shook herself out of it. “N-nice to meet you,” she murmured, retracting her hand quickly after shaking Joshua’s hand a couple times.

The interaction seemed a little cold from your perspective. “Joshua’s started a new project,” you said, trying to break the tension that started to build between the three of you. “He’s built a flower bed here,” you explained. “What are you planting again?” you asked him directly.

Youngji listened silently as Joshua explained what he was planting in the flower bed before explaining the other plans for the yard he had. Throughout the whole thing, Youngji kept staring at him, occasionally glancing at you. Finally, you excused yourself and Youngji, wishing Joshua a good rest of the day and leading your best friend into your home.

Once inside and the door shut, you rounded on Youngji.

“What the hell was that?” you demanded as she kicked her shoes off and carried her bag over to the couch, dropping it on the cushion and sat down, covering her mouth with her hand. “Ji?” you asked, walking over to the couch. “What is it?”

Youngji looked up at you. “Do you have any idea who that was?” she asked. You nodded your head slowly. “Uh, yeah? That was Joshua. My new neighbor,” you answered. Youngji shook her head. “No,” she said. “I mean, yeah. He is your new neighbor but do you know who he is?” she asked. You stared at her, confusion spreading across your face.

“No?” you finally answered. Youngji let out a laugh, not of amusement but of astonishment. “Your new neighbor, the boy next door,” she started as she pulled her hand away from her mouth. “Is a porn star.”

Your stomach flipped at her revelation. “What?” you asked incredulously. “A p-porn star? No,” you said, shaking your head. “There’s no way. You have to be mistaken.” Youngji watched as you crossed in front of her to take a seat on the other part of the sofa. “He is,” she retorted. “He’s actually a really popular one. There aren’t that many alien porn stars out there,” she continued and you sat up, holding up your hand to silence her.

“I’m sorry,” you interrupted. “What did you just say? A what porn star?”

Youngji stared at you, a deadpan expression on her face. “An alien one,” she finally answered. “An alien porn star?” you repeated before bursting into laughter. “How do you even know this?” you finally asked when your laughter subsided. You watched red creep up your friend’s neck and face. “That’s not the point,” she said nervously, fidgeting in her seat. 

“The point is that your neighbor is a porn star from another planet.”

Later that night after Youngji left, you were sitting on your couch, a movie playing in the background but you weren’t paying attention. Your mind was elsewhere. You glanced over the back of the couch towards your office where you could see your computer sitting on your desk in the darkness of the room.

Your curiosity was peaked but you weren’t even sure if you wanted to act on it. You weren’t exactly afraid of what you might find, but more afraid that you would like it. Youngji hadn’t given you much to go on other than a link. You stared at the computer for a moment longer before sighing and getting up.

Entering your office, you grabbed your laptop and took it back to your couch, setting it on the coffee table and producing a pair of earbuds that you paired to the laptop. Grabbing your phone, you opened your texts with Youngji and typed the link she had sent you into the address bar of your browser exactly as it appeared in the text.

It took you to a dark webpage with three large electric green tentacles, curling up around a singular rectangular box with rounded corners. Glowing and dripping green text read the word enter with a little green arrow pointing to the right. You hovered your mouse over it, checking the link properly to make sure you typed it correctly.

“Just do it,” you whispered to yourself. You clicked on the arrow and the page seemingly refreshed. The page had changed and now you were greeted with the same black page, green tentacles and an empty box with a typing cursor. Glowing and dripping green text instructed you to type in a name before allowing you to continue.

You pondered for a moment. You could keep the name vague but something deep down in you wanted Joshua to know that you knew about his career in the entertainment industry. He’d been purposefully vague when telling you and now you knew why. Alien porn star wasn’t exactly a career you’d go around advertising. Smiling to yourself, you typed into the box and clicked the little arrow next to your new display name.

Immediately, you were met with the home page. It was like the rest of the website you’d seen so far. Dark background, glowing green text but instead of the three large tentacles in the middle of the page, extending up from the bottom of the screen, there were a bunch of smaller tentacles peeking out from around the edge of the browser.

At the top of the page was a banner with a logo for the name of the website. It read Xeno-rotic in that same glowing green text that dripped down. Under it were various navigation buttons ranging from ‘home’ to ‘contact.’ Under that was a small search bar with a little green magnifying glass. You started to scroll, checking out the home page.

It displayed a list of active streams, a thumbnail with the name of the stream, the user who was live with a little slow blinking green dot, as well as a small description and a little green eye icon next to how many viewers were currently watching. You scrolled down to the bottom of the page where a little simple white arrow pointed to the right, indicating a next page.

Instead of clicking, you scrolled back up to the top. When you reached the top of the list, it refreshed and a couple new streams showed up. Once of which was at the very top and quickly gaining a lot of viewers. You looked at the username and checked your text from Youngji. The username of the top stream matched the one she had sent you.

You mouse hovered over the thumbnail and for a moment, you sat unmoving, unblinking as you contemplated just closing the whole thing and pretending this never happened but your curiosity was too strong and you’d already come this far. Taking a deep breath, you clicked on the stream and waited with baited breath as the page loaded. It was a lot like the home page but instead of a list, you were greeted with an embedded video player. The screen of the player was black with a circular loading icon, a glowing green one.

Just as you were about to back out and close your browser, the blackness flickered away and you were greeted by the sight of a figure moving on screen. “Sorry, sorry,” a familiar voice said. “For those of you just joining, the audio cut out so I’m trying to fix that.” Your heart skipped a beat as your neighbor’s face came into view, from the nose up. He was very close to the screen but you could tell he was smiling just from the way his eyes turned into crescents. 

“I’ll have it fixed in a second,” he added before disappearing. You could see below the video was a white chat box with black text. It was going crazy with chats from various users. Off to the side of the player was a small box displaying a few names with little alien icons next to them. Above the names was the same green text that read “supporters.” You assumed it was some sort of payment system. If you paid so much, your name was shown in that tier.

Joshua’s face reappeared in frame and he peeked over the edge of the desk his computer was sitting on. “How’s that?” he asked. His voice was clear and the video also seemed clearer. Several people in the chat agreed with your personal sentiments, applauding him for fixing the audio and video feeds so swiftly. Joshua chuckled as he stood up and you could now see he had changed out of his gardening clothes. He was wearing a black tee and a pair of light gray sweatpants.

The chat went absolutely feral over this revelation.

You watched with amusement as Joshua leaned in to read the chat. “Oh is that so?” he asked, raising a brow, a playful smile appearing on his face. “We’ve only just started, chat, and already you’re demanding I remove my clothes?” he continued, a teasing laugh leaving his lips, “At least buy me dinner, first.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you at watching him banter with his viewers. It wasn’t unlike the way he teased and flirted with you. He was a natural at it. You watched as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes scanning the chat. “No, no,” he said softly. “It’s not out yet. It should be coming in the next couple months. We finished filming a few months ago. There was a lot of post production they needed to do before it’s ready,” he explained and you wondered what he was talking about and started reading the chat.

t3ntacleluver101: how was filming? It’s been a while right? knottyxbunny: hi shua!  xen0ph1liac: i love you shua b34mmeupdaddy: beam me up daddy asstr0nut: will physical copies be released or will it only be available for streaming?

Based on the comments you could make out as the chat moved at lightning speed, Joshua must have finished filming something. He confirmed this as he answered some of the questions you had seen.

“No, it’ll be released for streaming first and then physical copies will go out to adult stores. You’ll also be able to buy it directly from the company website,” he explained, answering that question first. You watched as he reached up, scratching the back of his head. “Filming was different,” he continued. “It’s been a while since I’d been in front of a professional crew,” he added with a chuckle. “I’ve been doing cam stuff for so long that I got used to just being in front of a camera on my own. It was weird having to act again,” he continued stretching before leaning forward, resting his chin in his hand as he read more.

“I’m seeing a lot of familiar usernames,” he said with a smile. “Hi bunny,” he added. You watched his eyes scan the screen and assumed that he might have a list of all the viewers on his end. You watched his brows raise before a smirk came over his face. 

“Here’s a few new ones,” he started. “Hi monster smasher sixty-nine, I hope I said that right. Here’s another, black hole bandit,” he read, letting out a chuckle. “Clever,” he continued. “He loves me not, with a k. Oh, a play on words. How cute,” he continued. “Scum lord four-two-one, I’m a monster for you, and…” he trailed off as he read the next one, his grin widening.

“Neighbor six-eight-three,” he read your username aloud and your heart skipped a beat as he looked into the camera. “Hello, neighbor,” he said and you swore he knew it was you. “Welcome to the stream everyone. I guess I’ve taken up most of the beginning of this,” he said sitting back in his seat, slowly swiveling back and forth as he continued to read the screen.

You watched as his hands moved and he did something with the mouse. “There,” he said, turning his head slightly. “Now I can see the chat and viewer list on this screen,” he said, sitting back once more. “For those of you that are new,” he started as he rested his hands behind his head, sitting back with his thighs spread, looking every bit as comfortable as he probably felt.

“I like to do things a little differently here. Most cam stars will only take suggestions from paying viewers,” he explained. “I don’t think that’s fair. So I will take suggestion and direction from paying viewers, of course, but don’t think that if you can’t pay, that I won’t listen to you as well. I want everyone to have a good time and enjoy the show,” he said with a smile. “It’s why I don’t charge an entry fee like some of the other stars here. I’m not shaming them by any means,” he continued.

“Everyone’s gotta do what they can to make money,” he added. “I just personally don’t like to do that.” You watched as he continued to swivel, turning his focus to the screen with the chat on it. “Oh come on now,” he said playfully. “Bunny, Xeno, Beam,” he said. “Be kind to our new guests. Don’t hog the chat. Remember what happened last time? I had to mute you because you wouldn’t stop spamming. Don’t make me do that again.”

A wave of heat washed over you, arousal shooting straight to your core at the sound of his voice. His voice was soft but his tone was very commanding and stern. Joshua lowered his hands, resting them on his thighs as he continued to read. You tore your gaze away from him to look at the chat as well.

b34mmeupdaddy: sorry alien daddy knottyxbunny: sorry. I’ll be good xen0ph1liac: just wanna express my luv ):

You heard Joshua chuckle and looked back at him. “It’s okay Beam, and you better Bunny. You know what happens when you don’t behave. I know Xeno, and I appreciate it, but we have six new viewers,” he said with a smile. “Don’t be shy, say hi, he encouraged. You watched as the others said hello and hi in the chat.

imamonster4u: howdy 🤠 heluvsmekn0t34: hi hi m0nstersmasher69: greetings scumlord421: yo blackh0leb4ndit: hey 👋

You realized that you were the sixth and you hesitated to type. Joshua noticed, the corners of his mouth twitching as he held back the urge to smirk. “Come on, neighbor,” he said. “You’re holding up the chat.” Your fingers hovered over the keys of your keyboard and you quickly typed out a response and deleted it before typing another in and pressing enter. Your whole body felt like it was on fire.

neighbor683: i don’t like being told what to do

You watched as Joshua sat up straight, leaning in to rest his chin in his hand, a smile spreading across his face as he read your message. “Oh, is that right, neighbor?” he asked, turning to look at the camera. “Don’t like being told what to do? How interesting.” The chat went wild, other viewers rushing to repeat the same words but Joshua’s attention was on the camera, almost as if he was staring past it and into your eyes. “I’ll have to remember that,” he finally said and pulled away.

He didn’t waste any more time as payments started coming in with suggestions as well as the chat asking him to show more, to talk, to do anything. You merely observed, watching as he gave a show, slowly moving his hands over his body until one rested over the growing bulge in his sweatpants.

“You’ve been so patient,” he said, eyes flitting over to the chat but speaking to no one in particular.

Or so you thought.

“Wonder what I am, where I’m from, what I do,” he continued, his hand moving over his erecting and palming himself through the thick material of his sweats. “Wonder what’s under here,” he added, gesturing to his crotch. “I look human enough,” he continued. “But I’m far from it.”

You watched as he rested his head back against his chair headrest, his chest slowly rising and falling as his breathing started to grow heavier. “You wanna see it?” he asked, the hint of a smirk on his face. “Wanna see what I’m hiding under here?”

You could see the chat moving at hyperspeed as the viewers threw out their own suggestions and pleaded with him to take something off. His hand slipped under the waistband of his sweats and you could see a peek of his underwear. You watched his hand move under the material, no doubt fingers wrapping around his shaft and slowly starting to pump himself.

You were on the edge of your seat, eyes glued to your screen as you watched him, his eyes fluttering shut as his hips started to buck, fucking his fist a little faster. You watched as a large payment, some four figures, appeared on screen with a single request: show us.

Joshua let out a breathless chuckle, his free hand grabbing his waistband. “As you wish.” he said and you watched, lips parted in awe as he pushed his sweats and underwear down, pulling his cock free from the confines. Or what you could only assume was his cock.

Despite his eyes, the teeth, and the overall feeling that Joshua was far from human, he was still human looking enough that when you looked at him, you could justify that he was wearing contacts and had fake teeth but when you saw what he was hiding under his clothes, at least his pants, all justification of him being human was thrown out the window.

In his hand was something that resembled a cock, just not a human one.

The base of it rested against a slit telling you that whatever this was, it was retractable. Meaning it withdrew inside of him when not in use. The color of it was what threw you. The base, which was slightly bulbous, was a deep crimson. The shaft was veiny and quite girthy but it also had small ribbed like patterns that wrapped around.

 As your eyes were drawn up the shaft, the color faded from the deep crimson color to a lighter, more pale red. When you reached the head, you finally let out a soft gasp. It was a very soft pink. The absolute tip of his cock was a darker pink. The head was pointed, almost like an arrow shape, the base of the head slightly flared. It was like nothing you’d ever seen before and would probably ever see.

From base to tip, it was probably a good seven inches, so it wasn’t massive but you were certain that it would definitely fill whatever hole he decided to put it in. You watched his hand glide up the shaft towards the head and noticed a small bead of a translucent, pink liquid, almost like a pink syrup, drip from the slit of his cock. ‘Precum?’ you wondered to yourself.

You watched as he gathered the viscous liquid and spread it along his cock, making his hand glide smoother. Joshua let out a low groan, eyes fluttering shut as he continued to stroke himself, hand moving a little faster. It was a mesmerizing sight. The way his precum seemed to shimmer in the light of his room. You cou;dn’t seem to look away. As another bead of the pink precum appeared, you wondered what it tasted like.

Before you could stop yourself, your fingers were typing into the chat. Joshua’s eyes opened as you hit enter and he slowed his movements so he could focus on reading. You watched as he lifted his head and stared at the screen with the chat on it. “Taste it?” he asked, curiously. He turned to look at the camera. You typed quickly into the chat.

neighbor683: have you ever tasted your own precum before?

Joshua let out a chuckle. “I have,” he said with a nod before turning to look at the camera. “Do you want to taste it, neighbor? You wanna come over and see what my cock tastes like?” Your thighs pressed together on their own, as if you weren’t in control of your body. You didn’t care about the rest of the chat at this point and you weren’t sure if Joshua did either.

neighbor683: how about you come over here instead

Joshua let out another chuckle, his hand moving up and down his cock again, spreading more of the precum. “You want me to come over?” he asked, his head falling back against his headrest again. “Want me to come over and fuck that cute, tight little human cunt?”

The chat was going wild over your interaction but you didn’t care as you typed another response.

neighbor683: do it. I dare you.

Joshua let out a moan, low and pornographic as his cock twitched and he came onto his stomach. Thick ropes of milky pink painted his golden skin as he continued to pump his hand up and down, making sure to get everything out. You watched, eyes wide and underwear sticking to you, as his chest rose and fell, his breathing erratic and heavy.

The chat was still going off when he finally opened his eyes and lifted his head. “I wasn’t expecting to cum so soon,” he said softly as he sat up and reached off screen for something, producing a few tissues which he used to clean himself off with. “I’ll have to take another shower,” he said with an amused smirk as he wiped his stomach and hand. His cock had gone flaccid and started to retreat back inside his body. He pulled his underwear and pants back up, hiding it from view.

“Let me wash my hands really quick,” he said as he got to his feet.

He disappeared for a few moments, all the while, you sat there, staring at your screen in disbelief as the chat demanded to know what was going on. You saw your username being thrown around a few times. Without saying anything, you closed the browser, your screen going back to your desktop. Wordlessly, you shut your laptop, got to your feet and carried the device back to your office.

Setting it on your desk, you glanced out the window where you could see Joshua’s yard, the small flower garden barely visible in the darkness. As you shut your blinds, you headed back out into the living room, not noticing the dark shadow that crossed his yard and hopped the fence.

As you grabbed your empty cup from the coffee table, you were unaware of the footsteps ascending your front steps. It wasn’t until three sharp knocks rang out from your front door that you knew someone was there. You looked up from the sink. Had Joshua decided to make good on your dare? Or was he here to reprimand you?

You hesitated before wiping your hands on a towel and walked over to the front door. You knew it was Joshua without checking and unlocked the door, pulling it open and bracing for impact.

There he stood on your porch, still dressed in the same sweats and black tee. As the door opened, he turned to look at you, those piercing yellow-green eyes meeting your gaze. Nothing was said for a moment before he took the chance to look you over, a smirk slowly spreading across his face.

“Enjoy the show?” he asked, leaning against your doorframe. You swallowed thickly. “Look,” you started. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have watched—”

“Why are you apologizing?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. You looked up at him. “I… I don’t know,” you answered. “Are… aren’t you upset?” Joshua stared at you before letting out a laugh. “Upset? That my attractive neighbor now knows I’m a sex worker? No,” he answered. “And since you just sat there and watched from start to finish, I’m going to assume you aren’t upset?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No,” you answered. “Good,” Joshua replied. “So, you still want me to come over?” he asked, his tone lowering. Excitement coursed through you at the prospect of seeing in person what you’d seen on your screen. “I uh,” you started. “Don’t you need some time to … you know?”

Joshua chuckled as he leaned in closer. “You’re really cute when you’re flustered,” he said. “I’m not human,” he started. “Give me like five minutes and I’ll be more than ready to go.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “Do you wanna come back in five minutes or—”

“Just let me in and eat you out already,” he said with a smirk. You could feel your arousal pooling in your panties. “Besides,” he added as you stepped back, letting him into your home. “It smells like you could use some release.” You stared up at him in shock as he shut the door behind him. “Alien, remember?” he said, tapping his nose.

You watched him look around your living room. “Nice place,” he said with a nod. He looked down, meeting your gaze and neither of you moved or spoke for a moment. “So,” he started. “We gonna do this right here on the floor or you wanna show me to your room?”

Without any more prompting, you took his hand and led him up the stairs, leading him down the hall to your bedroom. Inside, you watched him look around curiously. “You can tell so much about a person by what they decorate their room with,” he said softly as he neared your bed, running the tips of his fingers over your bedspread.

You walked over as he turned towards you and let out a laugh as you pushed him down onto the bed, falling onto his butt with a bounce. “You’re so eager,” he said with a chuckle. You started to climb onto the bed, straddling his lap. “Just right into it, huh?” he whispered as your hands rested on his shoulders. You could feel his move up your back. “Have you watched any of my films?” he asked, his voice still soft. When you shook your head no, he smiled. “Good,” he said with a nod.

“I’d rather you didn’t have any expectations. The way I fuck in front of a camera is not how I do it off screen,” he explained, his hands sliding down your back and moving to your waist. “Do you have a safeword?” he asked, his voice still soft. “Cherries,” you whispered. Joshua reached up, cupping your cheek. “Good,” he replied. “Tell me what you like,” he continued, his hand sliding down the side of your neck, watching how you reacted, head tilting back slightly.

His fingers wrapped around your neck and you let out a moan as he squeezed gently. “Choking, got it,” he said, his voice slightly amused. “Anything else?” he asked, his hand sliding down to your chest and smoothing over your breast. “Dom-” your voice cut off. “What was that?” he asked. You licked your lips, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Dominate me.”

The minute the words left your lips, Joshua had done a complete 180, flipping you onto your back on the mattress and hovering over you. “Are you sure you want that?” he asked softly, eyes searching your face. You nodded slowly. “Yes,” you breathed out. “Take me.”

You didn’t have a chance to say anything else as Joshua’s lips crashed against yours, muffling a gasp as his hands wandered. He pulled back briefly. “Can I take this off?” he asked, gently tugging at your top. You nodded. “Take it all off, please,” you replied. Joshua chuckled as you pulled him into another kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

His spit was different from your own. Whereas yours was watery, his was thicker, more viscous. It had a slight taste to it. Something you couldn’t place. It was almost tangy but oh so subtle. Joshua’s hands pulled your shirt up and he broke away to pull it off entirely, tossing it aside as his eyes drank in your appearance. “I like this,” he murmured, fingers skimming over the black lace of your bra.

“But I’d like to take it off,” he added, looking to you for permission. You granted it with a nod and sat up, helping him undo the garment so he could slip it off and toss it aside. He guided you back down onto the bed, lips leaving a trail of kisses down the side of your neck to your collar. He continued, kissing down your chest, stopping to swirl the tip of his tongue around one of your nipples before continuing on until his lips met the waistband of your shorts.

He lifted his head but before he could ask, you were shimmying out of both your shorts and underwear, tossing them aside. Joshua let out a chuckle as he placed his hands on your knees, pushing your thighs apart. His eyes swept downward, taking in your nude form until they settled on the space between your thighs, your arousal glistening in the dim light of your bedside lamp.

You watched as his tongue slipped out to wet his lips. “I could probably just slide right in,” he said softly. “But where’s the harm in having a little taste,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eye as he lowered himself onto his stomach, head between your legs. He pushed your thighs further apart, fingers digging into your flesh. “Just a little taste,” he repeated.

Your head fell back against the pillows, a soft moan leaving your lips as his tongue met your clit, dragging slowly over it. On the surface, his tongue looked a lot like a humans but now that you could feel it, you could feel what felt like millions of small spines, like a cat's tongue only on a much smaller scale. It felt incredible and each pass over your clit had your back arching off the mattress as you moaned loudly, the sound unrestrained in the privacy of your bedroom.

True to his word, Joshua only had a small taste, groaning against you as he lapped at your essence. When he pulled back, he sat back on his heels and tugged his shirt off, dropping it aside before also shuffling out of his pants and underwear. The same cock you’d seen on the live stream was barely peeking out of the slit but quickly pushed its way out.

Joshua glanced up at you, a smirk on his lips. “You wanna taste it?” he asked, drawing your attention. You looked back down at his cock before nodding, your eye watching the way the small bead of pinkish precum caught the light. Joshua swiped his thumb over the slit, catching the liquid and brought his hand to your face, offering it to you.

Opening your mouth, you stuck your tongue out and Joshua let out a low chuckle before smearing the fluid over your tongue. Immediately you closed your mouth, swallowing. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced. Most human precum was salty but this was almost… fruity. There was a distinct taste of fruit, maybe a berry but you couldn’t fully place it. One thing was certain tho.

It definitely tasted like it looked.

There was a dull tingle that accompanied the taste and it started where the precum made contact with your tongue but started to slowly spread across your whole tongue and soon your mouth. It slowly spread down your throat, into your stomach and extending further until it settled low in your belly. A heat started to radiate from your belly, spreading throughout your whole body.

Joshua watched as your breathing started to quicken, your heart hammering in your chest. Arousal started to drip down and seep into your bedspread. “What is that?” you asked, referring to the tingling heat. Joshua chuckled. “It’s a natural aphrodisiac,” he explained. “My species secretes it during foreplay to prolong intercourse.”

He leaned over, his fingers wrapping around your throat. “You still want this?” he asked, to which you nodded. “Then do exactly what I tell you,” he said before roughly rolling you onto your stomach. He pulled your hips back, pulling you onto your knees. You felt his hand on your back between your shoulder blades, pushing your chest down. “Stay just like that,” he said in your ear as he moved your arms under your head. “You might want to hold on, baby,” he added as he guided the flared head of his cock to your dripping slit.

You felt the pointed tip enter you and let out a gasp before the rest of the head of his cock followed, pushing into you with ease. Your fingers dug into the sheets as he slowly eased his way in, your walls welcoming the intrusion as he stretched them. You let out a long, low moan as he bottomed out, the bulbous base kissing your entrance and the head of his cock pressing against your cervix. How he even fit inside you was beyond you but it felt even better than you imagined.

Joshua gave you a few moments to adjust before he started moving, setting a slow, steady pace. He had a firm grip on your hips as he thrust into you, the base of his cock hitting your lips with a wet smacking sound. You let out a cry of pleasure as he thrust into you harshly, testing your limits. “Just as warm and tight as I thought, he groaned, picking up the pace.

Each thrust had your toes curling, stars clouding your vision. Pure, unbridled pleasure coursed through you, the aphrodisiac running its course and making you more pliant and increasing your arousal. Joshua’s strength and stamina was a surprise to be sure but he wasn’t human so it wasn’t all too surprising.

“You had a lot to say earlier,” he growled as he wrapped his fingers around your neck from behind and lifted your head, his chest meeting your back as he leaned over you. “But you can’t say anything now. Does it feel good? Do you like how my cock feels inside you?”

You could only mewl and moan in response which only further fueled Joshua’s monologue. “Have I already fucked you dumb, sweetheart?” he panted into your ear, pounding into you from behind. “So pathetic and dumb just from a little bit of alien cock? What a good human slut. Are you gonna be good for me?” he asked, fingers tightening around your neck. You nodded wordlessly, still unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Gonna be a good girl and take it all?” he whispered, holding back a moan as your walls clenched around him. “Mhmm,” you moaned. Joshua let out a growl, hips slamming into you now. The base of his cock was trying to breach your hole and each attempt had you crying out in both pain and pleasure.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Be good and let me in.” With one final thrust, you came, tumbling over the edge as he managed to push the base of his cock into you, locking into place as he came, pumping you full of the same thick milky release you’d seen paint his stomach during the live stream.

“That’s it,” he mumbled as his cock twitched inside you, pumping even more cum. You let out a whine as you felt a slight ache from between your thighs. “Stay still,” Joshua murmured in your ear, his grip on your throat loosening. “Stay still, baby.”

A moan ripped from your throat as you felt the base of his cock start to swell. “What’s that?” you mumbled. You tried to push yourself up but Joshua gently forced you back down. “Just stay still, okay baby? Be good for me.” You did as he asked, receiving praise for your obedience.

After a couple more moments, everything seemed to stop. Chancing a glance downwards, you could see that your lower stomach was slightly distended. Swollen almost. “That was a lot of cum,” Joshua murmured, pressing a couple of soft kisses to your cheek. “But you did so well. Took everything I gave you.” You whined, trying to shift under him but he held your hips still.

“You can’t do that. We’re locked together. If you try to pull away, you’ll only hurt yourself or me. Just stay right there,” he cooed. “What do you mean, locked together?” you asked. “Remember the knot?” he asked softly. You shook your head. “What knot?”

“At the base of my cock is a knot. When I came, I pushed it inside you,” he explained. A brief flash of pain shot through you at the memory. You did remember that. “And then it started to swell,” he continued. “Well, now it’s swollen and locked in place. If I try to pull out, it’ll only hurt. So we have to wait for the swelling to go down before I can pull out,” he added.

You sighed, resting your cheek against the sheets. “How long will that take?” you asked as he gently caressed your thighs, massaging your muscles. “About an hour or so,” he murmured nonchalantly. “An hour?” you asked incredulously, lifting your head. “Mhmm,” he hummed. “About an hour and then you’ll need to go to the bathroom to get all of that out of you,” he added, reaching a hand around to press against your stomach. “And then we can go again,” he said with a smile as he nuzzled against your shoulder. 

“I’m not done with you just yet.”

©️ kwanisms 2018 - 2025 | all written and artistic works on this blog are protected under copyright. reposts, continuations, and translations of my works are not permitted. All graphics made by me.

[whowrotethenote]

ꜰʟᴀꜱʜɪɴɢ ʟɪɢʜᴛꜱ

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Summary: Brielle's life was the epitome of rags to riches. She had it all. Fame, fortune, and an older wealthy husband who kissed the ground she walked on. That is until haunting thoughts of her future where he became the only superstar in their marriage, forces her to fall into a downward spiral before her time.

Pairing: Roman Reigns (Joe) x Black Fem OC (Brielle)

Warnings: Age gap // Smut // Angst // Arguing // Addiction & alcohol abuse // Profanity

Word Count: 8.9k (once again, so sorry lol)

Inspo: Flashing Lights by Kanye West

A/N: I actually got the inspiration for this from another piece i’m working on, only it’s not fan fiction. I changed some things around. Same premise: young supermodel married to an older, wealthy and prominent man. If I ever decided to publish the original work, it will most likely be professionally (novel) not on social media. Anyway, this is a test run lol let me know what y’all think. Tell me what you like/don’t like. This is wayyy smuttier than the last jawn lol. Happy reading bitches!

Also, my taglist form is up. I'll add more options of posts to be tagged in as my blog grows.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any media posted. Credit to their respective owners.

I do not consent to any portion of my writing to be reproduced or used in any manner without expressed written permission of myself, with the exception for the use of brief quotations.

This story is completely fictional. With the exception of OCs, I do not own any characters in this story. The pictures posted are for the intention of face claims and imaginative purposes. The ideas, stories, scenarios, and characters you are about to read about are a mixture of my imagination, and inspiration from real life whether it be loosely based on people I know or public figures. By no means should you take anything a character thinks, says, or does, as my way of expressing my own interpersonal beliefs and thoughts. The characters are themselves and I am me. Two completely separate entities. I am not trying to promote any lifestyle, ideas, or agendas throughout the book. I am simply telling a story. If you cannot grasp that concept, do not read any further.

“You want a refill, love?” The young, blonde bartender offered Brielle a weak smile that she returned. 

“Fuck it, why not?” She pushed the now empty martini glass aside watching her work. It wasn’t long ago that Brielle was the hustler on the other side of the bar. Every bartender had a sixth sense. One that told them who needed a drink versus who just wanted one. And Brielle was in desperate need of a drink. 

She turned slightly away from the bar top to scan the sea of people in the upscale ballroom before her, looking for one face in particular. Normally he wouldn’t be hard to spot. He stood six foot three, and was two hundred and sixty-five pounds of pure muscle. Only, the room was full of men with the same build in suits.

She tapped her expensive Russian manicure on the glass surface, squinting. She found him surrounded by a few of his colleagues and his boss, indulging in what looked like deep conversation. She fought the urge to roll her eyes knowing it couldn't have been that deep. Most likely the usual mindless chatter men share. Sports, pussy, wrestling, cars, politics and more pussy.

Brielle couldn't help but to stare. He was Dapper Dan, in an all black Tom Ford suit, hand-picked by Brielle herself. On his left wrist sat a two-toned AP. No diamonds. He had never been the flashy type. He didn't need to be. His aura spoke for itself, always giving away the fact that he was worth a billion before he ever even opened his mouth. Clean cut with a thick dark beard, lined to perfection. His shiny locks pulled back in his signature sleek bun. 

He must've felt her. His eyes locked in on her before she even noticed he was staring back. He flashed that billion dollar smile from across the room and Brielle almost forgot that she wanted to be anywhere else but where she currently stood. 

Just when it looked like he would make his way over, two more of his colleagues joined the group, reeling him back in. Oh, fuck me, she thought.

“Babe, while you're at it, how about a shot of Vodka?" Brielle asked with her head now in her hands.

The bartender chuckled at the only miserable seeming person in the ballroom. "Particular brand?”

"Whatever has the highest percentage.”

It was the week before a paper-view event. Summer-slam? Royal Rumble? Wrestle-mania?—Shit she didn’t know. She couldn’t keep up with that shit anymore than he could keep up with the endless runway shows and fashion weeks all over the world. What she did know? It was all a pain in her ass. The whole ordeal. The weeks leading up, the actual event, and all the fallout from it. Black tie events, interviews about storylines she didn’t have a clue about, terms she barely understood and unfamiliar faces. Worst of all? Her man’s hands were too full to assist in carrying any of her weight. 

He was the one. The whole WWE universe orbited around him and the rest of the Bloodline. That was means for him to be involved in every little aspect of the company. Pulled him every which way, in every direction. The forefront of it all.

In his world, Brielle always found herself taking a step back. She was used to being center of attention, all eyes on her, and the camera’s object of affection. But this was different. Sports entertainment wasn’t her lane. The cameras and microphones weren’t for her here. Its like someone picked Barbie up and dropped her in an all men’s gym.

"Here you go, love." 

Brielle’s night was starting to go uphill at the sight before her. A colorful martini and a clear shot filled to the brim of the shot glass. God bless the bartender.

“Thank you so much. Do I even wanna know what this is?” She picked up the shot first.

“Probably not,” she shook her head, already onto the next patron flagging her down.

Like it was water, Brielle got it down in one gulp and chased it with the Apple martini. She should’ve asked for a water. The shot ignited her insides like a furnace, waking her up immediately. 

“Oh, come on girl. It can’t be that bad.” Her lips curved widely into a genuine smile at the familiar voice. “What you got going on over here?” Jey held the martini glass up to his nose and jerked his head back with a screwed face. “I can’t get with that vodka, now.”

“Good. It's for the grown ups anyway.” He pulled her slim body into a comforting hug. “Where’s Kecia?” She looked past him for his wife, getting her hopes up that maybe this night wouldn’t be so excruciating if she had a friend. 

“Lil’ man got sick. I’m dolo tonight.” She audibly exhaled and flagged the bartender down.

“Yeah, i’ma need another one of whatever that was.”

He rubbed her bare back that was exposed in the silk Roberto Cavalli gown, in an attempt to alleviate some tension. He’s bore witness already on multiple occasions, of what the night could become after Brielle’s frustrations have been amplified by too many drinks. 

“Where’s that big-headed husband of yours?” He searched.

She waved a hand. “He was somewhere talking to Hunter in a huddle. I think I saw Seth with them. I doubt they’re in the same spot still.”

“Stay put,” he instructed before walking off.

Two shots and two drinks later, Brielle had opened and closed every app downloaded to her phone. She made useless conversation with the young blonde that fed her drinks, getting interrupted every time someone new came up to ask for a drink. It seemed like she was second priority to everyone in her line of sight.

She looked over her slim shoulder to find Joe, with Paul by his side, and to no surprise a camera and microphone in their faces. He stood with his big hands locked in front of him, listening to each of their questions intently.

The ballroom hosting the night was exquisite. The pinnacle of wealth. A three-piece chandelier hung from the center of the high ceiling. Spacious as can be with marble flooring. Cathedral-like interior, giving the room an ancient castle feel. White clothed table tops accompanied by groups of people, babysitting glasses of champagne, caught in conversation. Then there was Brielle. Secluded, getting drunk at the bar.

It’s not that Brielle was ungrateful or necessarily unhappy. What was happiness anyway? In a room full of prominent strangers, drink in hand, she thought about what happiness and living a fulfilling life meant to her before. Before all of this. Not just Joe and his world, but her new one too.

Before the flashing lights and glamour, it seemed so simple. She just wanted to survive. So happiness to her back then would’ve been the equivalent to just living, as opposed to surviving. And however that came, she was ready to snatch it by the balls and never let go. Didn’t matter if it was attached to a wealthy man, the lottery by some miracle, or just straight finesse.

Brielle had came a long way from sleeping on her sister’s couch and surviving off scraps of tips in a sports bar. She was scouted on a late night slinging drinks. An older caucasian man who was just there to watch the NFL game, ended up being one of the head photographers for French Vogue.

One look at her face, with exceptional bone structure, beauty mark planted naturally on her chin, soft doe eyes, and he was mesmerized. Inspired. He almost had to beg her to come to his studio and take a few pictures. It was New York. Any old pervert with a camera could come in a bar and lure a young beautiful woman to his “studio.” And although Brielle, starving for a change of pace in life and obviously struggling, with her long low ponytail loose from the chaotic night; that didn’t mean she had to be desperate or naïve. 

He slid his business card on the bar top. Still hustling and bustling to give the growing crowd their drinks, she didn’t even give it one look. “Just think about it, please!” He shouted with a thick accent over the wave of excitement after the Eagles made a touchdown. “My number is on the card!”

“Yeah, sure!” She shouted back uninterested. Almost a whole half hour after he left, she shook the alcohol-soiled card from off the bar top and when her eyes focused on the French Vogue logo, she nearly choked.

Damn right she called the next morning. Seven a.m. sharp. She had only clocked out three hours before and stole an hour of sleep.

He instructed her to come bare faced, in a white tank top, jeans, and her hair pulled back, just as it was the night before. She didn’t know he really meant just how it was the night before. When she arrived with a tight low ponytail, slicked back to perfection, he pulled it looser and staged a few fly aways.

He ordered her to move exactly how he wanted her.

“Chin up, please.”

“Raise your hand a little.”

“Turn slightly to the right.”

“Look away from the camera.”

She posed and posed, while he snapped away. It took hours. The whole morning had passed. He needed it to be perfectly imperfect. Although skilled in professional photography and supermodels being his area of expertise, Brielle was new territory for him. He had to find a way to sell the young distressed girl from the Harlem bar, with deer-like beauty, to the executives at Vogue.

They were looking for the next big thing. And while their eyes were on the next Bella Hadid or Kendall Jenner, he had something better in mind. Something more refreshing and relatable. When destiny placed him right on a path to spotting Brielle in that bar, he felt his whole life about to change forever. And it did. Right along with hers.

She wore stardom well. Fame fit her like it was custom made. The “It Girl.” Thats what they were calling her. Known for her doe eyes, the beauty mark, and her sharp east coast wit. She rose to the top of the food chain at what seemed like the speed of light. Everything had moved so fast. The flashing lights of cameras blinded her at every corner. A new city, a new country every other week. A complete one-eighty for a girl who prior to signing with her modeling agency, had never been outside of New York. 

She was partying with the A-listers and whoever was above them at the top of the social food chain. Gracing the cover of over three hundred magazines, both national and international. The most desired runway model of her peers. She was being pulled and stretched thin. She was zooming through life in the fast line, picking up nasty habits just to keep up. She was swimming in millions, so stopping or even slowing down wasn't an option.

The general public had their eyes glued to her. She picked up the attention of CEOs, NBA players, actors, and anyone else who mattered. Brielle had always been the kind of girl to live her life on the go. Never limiting herself to one man because she saw herself as too much woman for just one anyhow. She dated and fucked them all. Spent their money well and had them hanging off the edge of their seat for more. None of them stuck. None of them were special or so different from the one before. That was until she crossed paths with WWE Superstar, Roman Reigns, or as she would come to know him as, Joseph Anoa’i.

One erotic night spent with him after an ESPY Awards afterparty, and it couldn’t have been more clear to her that he had to be hers. She’d keep this one for herself. He was like nothing she had ever experienced before. Joe was a go-getter, just like her. They were cut from the same cloth. The breadwinners of their family, paving the way and making it seamless for everyone who came after them. 

When she found herself in Joe’s orbit, that fast life filled with nasty habits, slowed down a bit. Nothing else mattered. It's like they were the only two on planet earth and everything else was just distant noise. 

They married only three months after knowing each other. When you know, you just know. Of course the public had their opinions about how they were just another Hollywood couple that wouldn’t last, but majority of the world adored them. 

The wedding was like a national holiday. Vogue did an entire spread of them and it was flying off the shelves. That cover would be the one to define the entire state of stardom in their generation. It was everywhere. Joe sitting open-shirt, with Brielle and her half a million dollar Givenchy wedding gown, on his lap. Picture perfect.

Fiji was their honeymoon destination. An entire week off the grid. Nothing but love making, skinny dipping in the waterfall caves, and two people who couldn’t seem to get enough of each other, celebrating a whole lifetime they had left to get tangled in each other’s web.

Returning to the states was like entering into another level of life. It seemed her instantaneous marriage to Joe, took her status from superstar to legendary. She was Dior’s new muse and Joe was her older, wealthy, athletic husband. For the first time in all of Brielle’s twenty-five years of living, she was happy.

But that was back then. Three years later the stakes are higher. She’s adapted and now her ideas of what happiness is, have changed. She’d have to go back to the drawing board to figure out exactly what she wanted out of life. There were just a few hurdles and demons she’d have to address before then.

Her alcohol dependence for one. While most supermodels indulged in coke or popping pills, Brielle’s fatal flaw was alcohol. It started off as her just blacking out at parties like everyone else would. Then it escalated. She became the party girl. Always dancing on tables. Skinny dipping in someone’s pool. It was harmless until she started getting into scuffles in nightclubs. TMZ catching her and Joe having a screaming match where she was obviously drunk. Picking fights and starting shit with him at public events, like the one they were at now. 

She clung to drinking because it helped her cope, especially lately, with the fact that the life she was doused in and became accustomed to, wouldn’t always be. It haunted her.

All models have an expiration date. She dreaded the day when it came. It would come like a thief in the night she had heard. One day she’d be trending, booked and shoved on every platform possible. The next day it would all vanish. She’d go from being Joe’s sexy, young, supermodel wife, to just his wife. 

Alcohol was her companion. Alcohol was there on the lonely nights, early mornings, and impossibly long days. Alcohol was there on nights like tonight, when she felt alone in a room full of people. When her mind was overrun by dark thoughts of the unforeseeable future, where her career and everything she worked for would be in limbo. 

Joe just didn’t get it. Women were treated accordingly based on their looks. Men were treated accordingly based on their pockets. He could be retired and worn out and they’d still love him as long as he was paid. This wasn’t her reality. And there bore another disconnect in their marriage.

She loved Joe. There was no denying that. A blind man didn’t need to see it, because just by standing within two feet of them he would be able to feel it. From the night they met, neither could ignore the magnet-like, invisible force, urging them to one another. First night, nothing but heat and passion transpired between them. And it stayed that way every night after, only growing. But sometimes passion painted an ugly picture. People were passionate about addiction. Others passionate about racism. Passion is not synonymous with healthy.

They came colliding into one another from two different worlds, seemingly at the same pace. Young, hungry, and swimming in new money. Only he was oil and she was water. Brielle just always felt like a jaguar in a room full of house cats. Completely out of place. Out of her element. Too much. Their worlds just didn’t mix. Or so she thought…

“Brielle?” A feminine voice questioned not too far from behind her. 

Brielle paused her idle twisting of the wedding ring, weighing her left hand down, to turn to the voice in question.

A yellow-boned, thin woman, as tall as her stared back with an infectious grin. She had thick, wavy curls, cascading down her back. The emerald green silk gown she wore only enhancing her smooth skin. The bitch was bad and still, Brielle couldn’t pinpoint where she knew her from.  Brielle’s eyes somehow landed on the red birthmark that adorned the mystery woman’s right hand and it hit her like a wrecking ball.

“Millie?” Her head dipped. “Oh my god.” The two beauties conjoined in a hug and rocked side to side chuckling in equal disbelief that they had found one another. “What are you doing here?”

“Girl, modeling was a bust. Trying to dip my toes into this sports journalism thing. I’ve just been interviewing some of the guys on the roster before Summerslam next week.”

Millie had been one of the very few models Brielle took a liking to during her early years doing runway. During her first fashion week they were glued to each other’s hip. Exchanging gossip,  sex stories, walking tips and beauty secrets. 

It had been nearly two years since she laid eyes on her. It's like she had vanished from the face of the earth. That happened a lot in the modeling industry. So many pretty faces came and went. It was hard to keep up. She chalked it up to her probably getting sent to rehab for a coke problem or something. Thats usually where the models disappeared to. That or a billionaire from another country scooped them up.

Born to two Cuban immigrants, Millie was just trying to get ahead in the city of dreams, but nothing about her stood out to scouts and labels. She had a killer walk, but runway was all she could pull off. Her face card was exceptional, but it wasn't memorable. And anything other than memorable in the modeling world would get one tossed and forgotten quick.

“Where’s Joe?” Millie’s eyes danced around the room.

Brielle’s eyebrows shot up at the mention of her husband. His name fell so comfortably from the girl’s plump lips, it's like she’s said it a thousand times over.

“Joe?” Usually people who didn’t know him referred to him by his stage name, Roman. Millie had to have been somewhat familiar with him to call him by his name.

“Yeah,” she waved almost with a child-like giddiness once she found him across the way. He put a big hand up and nodded once to acknowledge her. Brielle tried to keep her face neutral, observing the whole exchange.

“Y-you know Joe?”

“Of course I do. He didn’t tell you?” She grinned wide.

Only Brielle’s eyes looked around in wonder. “Tell me what?” She chuckled to ease the underlying tension.

“Joe and I dated. Way, way back in the day.”

“Dated?” Her doe eyes became significantly wider. “Well, when was this?” She probed through a tight, manufactured smile as to not throw Millie off.

“Oh, girl,” the Latin beauty waved a dainty hand chuckling. “That was so long ago. He was still with The Shield, then. Didn’t even have a full beard.” Brielle tried to swallow an insult. It was on the tip of her tongue as she watched Millie eye her husband with nostalgia all in her gaze. No, she wanted her to keep spilling. She knew Joe would downplay it, so this was her best bet at collecting the truth.

“I was so happy for you guys after the proposal.” Millie finally snatched her eyes from Joe to focus on Brielle. “And that cover and spread in Italian Vogue? Fucking iconic…” It was now Brielle’s turn to burn a hole through her husband. She tried her best to not let the thoughts running through her mind, show on her face, but it was all in the vein that made itself visible on her forehead. The constant rubbing of her fingertips. If Millie touched her, she’d probably jump like she had come in contact with a stovetop burner. “It's crazy though,” Millie continued with her head cocked to the side. “Joe never struck me as the marrying type. Don’t get me wrong he’s an absolute sweetheart. I just couldn’t see him sitting in one spot long enough for just one woman to catch his attention. I guess men really do change for who they want to,” Millie finished with a drawn out sigh.

“Yeah. I guess they do, huh…”

“Well, this was a shock.” Millie stretched her arms out and Brielle came in for another hug. Her smile faded once she rested her chin on her shoulder and reemerged after pulling back.

“It was really nice to see you, Mills. Good luck on the whole journalism thing.”

Millie flashed Brielle another bright smile and walked off in a direction she wasn’t paying attention to because she was too busy glaring at Joe still.

There were days when Brielle took into account what the public had said about her marriage. That it was fake. For publicity. Or that it simply wouldn’t last because of how fast the two seemingly fell in love. 

They didn’t waste any time. Fucked on the first night. Vacationed together a week after. He was moving her in just a month later. Before Brielle knew it, he was down on one knee asking her to spend the rest of her life with him. Her infatuation with the kindhearted man who looked like he could kill anyone with his bare hands, drove her decision. She loved the way he took charge of his life and career, and turned the entire business in his family’s favor. How he kicked cancer’s ass. How every room he went in, people couldn’t help but to stop and stare.

It seems they did everything backwards. Got all the big hurdles out the way and worked their way down. Brielle found herself at times dumbfounded at just how little she knew about Joe’s past. Too many times she’s had to sit and listen to someone tell her something about the man she slept next to.

She’s not stupid. Of course there were women before her. I mean look at him. But a model? Models were such superficial creatures. Always caught up in glamour and materialistic matters. Joe was too grounded and down to earth in Brielle’s mind to bat an eye at what the world viewed as a mannequin. She thought she was the exception. Clearly not.

From across the way, Joe caught his wife staring at him again. His mouth curved into a smirk and he winked at her.

“Sexy, two-faced bastard,” she mumbled bringing the glass of vodka to her lips.

The couple rode back to their penthouse in an uncomfortable silence. After any event, the partition  was rolled up so Brielle could bless her man whatever way she saw fit. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other. But tonight, she clung to the left door in the back of the black Suburban, eyes never leaving the tinted window, gazing at the bright lights that decorated the city. 

Joe gave a harsh side eye to her. The deliberate space she placed between them by crossing her legs to the door was a dead give away that she was pissed. Physical touch was a shared love language between them. The absence of it could be felt immediately.

He refused to gauge what the issue was in such a confined space. That mistake was made several times before and never ended well. He’d have to wait until they were alone and in the comfort of their own space.

She didn’t realize, but his eyes were on her all night while she threw each glass the bartender fed her back like it was the fountain of youth. When Jey found him they both exchanged looks. It didn’t need to be said. The soft spot Joe’s cousin grew for Brielle, couldn’t overshadow his concern for her obvious drinking problem. He and his brother Jimmy got a front row seat to the downfall of America’s beloved couple. Too many nights having to chase an intoxicated Brielle down, or dragging them apart from verbally destroying each other.

All night, Joe’s anxiety grew like wildfire with every drink and every minute that passed where he couldn’t just leave with her. Now, in the backseat of the truck, he rubbed his forehead already feeling a headache from the argument that hadn’t even happened yet. He wished he could just press a button and fast forward to the part where they fucked and forgot about whatever the problem was.

When they got to their building, she stormed out of the car not bothering to wait for the driver or Joe to open her door like usual. Ignoring the doorman and the lady at the front desk she usually greets, her heels clicked aggressively on the marble floor of the lobby all the way to the elevator. 

Joe stood behind her near the back elevator wall. He bit his bottom lip at the deep line in her back that led to her perky ass. Even with her attitude, he had the urge to rip her clothes off and fuck it right out of her. The elevator dinged when they reached the top floor. She wasted no time breezing fiercely through the foyer area, and collecting the bottom of her gown in her hands to stomp up the wooden floating stairs.

“Brielle, bring your ass back down here.” He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t have to. Brielle had fell in love with the way he could make the world and everyone in it shift without doing too much. Not tonight though. No, tonight the control he had over her pissed her off to no end. She turned around in the middle of the steps, but defiantly didn’t make a move to come down. Instead she stood her ground and crossed her arms like a child about to be grounded.

“Alright. Let’s get this shit over with.” He removed the suit jacket and laid it over the back of the all white loveseat and rested his hands on his hips. “What has pissed Brielle off tonight, huh?”

“Besides the fact that my husband has been passed around?” She shrugged throwing the first punch. “I don’t know.”

He chuckled in disbelief. “You wanna elaborate, sweetheart?”

“You and Millie? Why didn’t I know that you two dated?”

“Dated is a very generous word. More like slept together.”

“Don’t try to downplay it, okay? Doesn’t matter what happened between you two. Why did I have to hear it from her?”

“I don't understand what’s pissed you off? The fact that I’ve fucked with other women before you?”

“I’m not talking about other women.” She slapped the back of her hand to her other palm sharply. “I’m talking about one woman. A woman I considered a friend. A friend I told you about!”

His shoulders shrugged almost high enough to reach his ears. “Why does it matter? You knew her like two years ago—”

“It doesn’t matter if I knew her ten years ago, damn it!” She stormed down the stairs and brushed past him to the kitchen. Unbuttoning his shirt, he shook his head knowing what she went in there for. More alcohol.

Cabinets opened and shut continuously, until he heard her heels making their way back to the living room. She stood across from him vexed.

“I threw it out,” he answered the question she didn’t have to ask. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he was ready for however she would react. 

She scoffed and giggled at once. “Don’t you think my drinking is the last thing you should be worried about right now?”

“What could be more important than you getting healthy?”

She rolled her eyes looking to the ceiling with a forced smile. “I can’t believe this. I sat there all night watching you work the room. By myself! While you work, you expect me to just sit in a corner like a fucking mannequin? Smile and look pretty, right? Don’t say a word, don’t draw too much attention? Well tell me, Joe, what would you have done tonight?” She held a hand up. “Oh wait! Don't let me forget, just when the night couldn’t get any worse, I have to hear the horror story of how my husband and my friend used to fuck!”

“You are so fucking ungrateful,” he shook his head removing his cufflinks. “Unbelievable.”

“Un—” She scoffed. “Ungrateful?” She turned her head as if she didn’t hear him right.

“Thats right,” he nodded with a face void of any expression. “Look around you. Look at where you are.” He spread his toned arms out wide. “In a penthouse overlooking all of Brooklyn. Five  hundred thousand dollar dress on. Closet full of designer that could feed a fucking third-world country. Fucking thousand dollar sculptures from Italy, just for it to sit on a glass table all day.” Brielle flinched at the Versace Rokko Cheetah sculpture flying to the other side of the room and shattering. Just as quick, she straightened up, knowing he wasn’t crazy enough to take his frustrations out on her that way.

“What’s your point, Joe?” 

“My fucking point is, I put you on the highest pedestal possible and I work my ass off every day to make sure you can live like this. And all you seem to be worried about is some bitch I was smashing, back when I used to bring a damn blow up mattress with me to arenas?” He squinted in disbelief. 

“You’re missing my whole point!”

“What point?!”

Back and forth they shouted, but still neither one of them heard the other. It was all pointless. Just a battle of pride and resentment.

“Oh my god,” he threw his hands up. “Oh my god. This is fucking stupid. I can’t believe this, is what you want to fight about.”

Brielle’s chest stung and her eyes followed suit. Her feelings were stupid now. Just a blimp on his star-studded life. There was a point in time, where every little need, every little voice of discomfort, he would fall at his feet to correct for her. 

She turned and rushed up the steps. She was overwhelmed and refused to keep the yelling match up. In their walk-in closet, she let the dress fall and pool around her feet, to change into her mint-colored Juicy Couture sweatsuit. She stuffed an LV duffel with clothes and headed to the bathroom next to sweep everything that was hers off the counter and into the bag.

Unfazed by her theatrics, Joe sat on the couch downstairs, shaking his head at all the ruckus she was making. 

“G’head,” he waved. “Leave. You’ll be back anyway.”

“Fuck you, Joe!”

“Yeah, sure.” He sat back on the cream colored couch, arms outstretched, dress shirt unbuttoned, without a care in the world.

Brielle and him both knew she wasn’t going anywhere. It was the same shit every time. They’d argue and fuss all night, she’d threaten to leave, packing a bag to stay in an expensive hotel, paid for with his black card. He’d show up with an expensive gift. Usually jewelry. Maybe a bag by some designer that hadn’t even hit the shelves yet. A trip to an island she had never been before. Shoes. Those were her favorite. She had a whole collection in the walk-in, courtesy of Joe. Each pair she could pinpoint which argument it was a result of.

After the grand gift, it was make up sex and they’d be in the honeymoon phase for two weeks tops, then the cycle repeats. Joe had grown tired of it. Two years ago it was exciting and far left from the good girls with degrees he was used to.

Brielle was a breath of fresh air until her ways started to suffocate him. She had a personality that was larger than life and an attitude to match. Included in the packaging was a love so fiery and consuming, you forget to breathe. And although he had seen enough, been through enough, and was old enough to know better, he still found himself from time to time gasping for air after forgetting to breathe around her.

She was like a drug. Potent, exhilarating, and unpredictable. He was hooked. And unfortunately for the both of them, he wouldn’t know how to get off her even if he tried.

Bag slung over her shoulder, she made her way back downstairs and all the way to the door.

“Brielle…” The sound of his baritone voice had her frozen in place. He closed his eyes and inhaled deep from his nose. “You walk out that door and you gon’ be sorry.”

“I just need space—”

“Then pick a room. It's real spacious in here.”

Brielle turned and made her pursuit back to the stairs. He wasn’t going to let her leave tonight. She didn’t just want space, she wanted the one thing she depended on when it felt like the walls of her life were closing in on her. And he was actively trying to take that away from her.

“I hate you,” she spat with venom in all three words.

The foot that was previously propped up on the glass coffee table came down as he sat up, elbows rested on his knees.

“Im sorry…what?” 

“You heard me.” She started back up the floating steps, but halted upon seeing him rise to his full height in her peripheral. She had only made it to the third step. She turned in place and there he was at the bottom, eye level now.

“You wanna repeat that again, while I’m standing right here in your face?” He dared, hands clasped in front of him.

She knew better than to test him. Hate wasn't something they just tossed back and forth. Irritation, maybe. Disgust even. But hate? Joe didn’t play that shit. Not with her or anybody else in his circle.

He nodded with his tongue just barely teasing the hairs on the side of his mouth. “Yeah, I thought so.”

“That fucking character you play,” she squinted looking him up and down. “It’s not a fucking character! You’re a narcissistic, manipulative, controlling—”

“You were singing a whole different tune this morning.” Her mind flashed to just fourteen hours prior when he was balls deep, quite literally driving her up the shower wall. In the aftermath they held each other as she told him how much he meant to her and how he changed her life. The man from this morning and the one in front of her were two different men with the same face.

She shook her head holding back tears. “You’re never who I need you to be when I need you to be it,” she exaggerated. Joe always knew who to be. Always knew exactly where it hurt. If he showed up as something different it was seldom and with purposeful intent.

Something dark flashed in his eyes. “Well maybe if you opened your fucking mouth and told me what you needed, I could provide it. But, no. You’d rather look for answers at the bottom of a shot glass! So tell me, Brielle—tell me! What do you need?!”

“I don’t know!” She screamed in frustration and was snatched off the steps by the front of her hoodie.

Their lips collided. Two tornadoes full of angst coming together to form what was their complicated ass marriage. 

See, Joseph Anoa’i the man outside of the ring was delicate and considerate. He displayed affection as much as he could and never touched Brielle with any thing less than love. However, the man he was in the bedroom, or wherever else he saw fit to take Brielle down, was a beast. Unforgiving and relentless. His ring persona, Roman Reigns, took over him like he had a split personality. He manipulated, tossed and flipped Brielle’s slim frame however he wanted her. Narcissistic in the way he couldn't care less if he hit it so hard that she couldn’t breathe.

Tonight was no different. As a matter of fact, tonight he had something to prove. It was deeper than just make up sex, or angry sex. He intended to break Brielle down. Resentment and frustration grew inside of him like weeds, all stemming from Brielle’s misbehaved, toxic and unpolished ways whenever she got an ounce of liquor in her. The garden was no longer pretty. He was tired of faking the funk. He was going to put his foot down tonight, making sure she felt all the consequences of her actions.

His big hands slid down to the back of her knees, hiking her up so her long legs could wrap around his waist. He never broke the connection. His thick tongue continued to invade her mouth, claiming what’s his.

The pair expended all their breath and stole more from one another. That was the complicated formula of their bond. Give and take. Take then give.

Brielle stared up in awe at the god before her after he released her onto their all white couch. Every ridge and line in his abdomen telling a story of his hard work and dedication to his craft. He removed the black button up to reveal the rest of the artwork on his right arm, never breaking eye contact with his wife. His manhood made an impressive print through his slacks as it begged for freedom.

Brielle wasn’t moving fast enough for him. In fact, she wasn’t moving at all. She was too mesmerized by the sight of him. Good enough to eat, she thought. Every time she saw his body it felt like the first time.

He tore the zipper of her Juicy hoodie down in such haste to reveal her chocolate nipples, he broke it. Before Brielle could complain, she was flipped over and put on all fours. The waistband of her sweats were pulled down to her knees, exposing her warm core to the cold air.

A gasp escaped her lips as they fell wide open from the feeling of his entire mouth latching onto her most sensitive nerve. The entirety of his palms covered both ass cheeks, as he spread them apart to feast on her.

He didn’t have the patience for formalities. She didn’t deserve it anyway. He attacked her clit, switching from sucking and licking with broad strokes of his tongue.

 “Oh my—fuckkkk.” Brielle was stuck between pushing back into his mouth and running from it completely. She wouldn’t get far. The grip his rough hands established on her ass would lock her in place.

“Sweet ass,” he mumbled into her. He pulled away for a second to bite down on her left cheek before going back to eating. A pit of pure ecstasy formed in her lower stomach impossibly fast. She shut her eyes tight, prepared to explode, listening to the wet sounds of him demolishing her and his hefty breaths. Her breathing accelerated while she reached for the pillow to gain some type of hold. And just when she thought she would reach her peak, she was left with nothing.

Joe pulled completely away once he decided she was ready for him. Something like a whimper left her pouted lips. He took his time unbuckling his pants and releasing himself from the confines of his briefs.

“Stay down,” he demanded in a dark tone that sent a chill down her spine.

Brielle felt like a junkie, waiting and barely able to keep still. Joe’s tongue slid out over his top lip at the masterpiece before him. His supermodel wife, bent over and her wet, fat center exposed, waiting for him. His dick jumped and he grabbed the base of it to align with her pussy.

His thick mushroom head glided along her arousal, coating himself to prepare for entry. She struggled to keep still. He kept grazing over her sensitive bud and it was torture. She knew he was doing it on purpose. It was wicked how he watched her desperate, contorted face and listened to her pants knowing he could put an end to her misery.

“Joe—Uhnn!” Brielle release a guttural moan from him pushing himself all the way in and bottoming out. Joe stayed there for a minute trying to brace himself. The grip and slickness always felt brand new. She was a hot head with an even hotter pussy, making it nearly impossible to leave her alone. He’d lose his mind just at the thought of another getting to experience this after him.

Without warning he palmed the back of her neck so her face was flush against the couch cushion and he snapped his hips against hers repeatedly. Mercilessly.

“Get off me.” He shoved the arm she reached back, careful not to lose his rhythm. Although small, as a result of her strict diet and expensive Lagree classes, that ass still jiggled with every thrust.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Ahh!” She moaned out every time he shoved his thickness back into her. 

“Shut up,” he jerked his hips as far as they could go and got comfortable. It felt too good to move and he was determined to make her lose her fucking mind.

Brielle’s mouth fell wide open. She didn’t know what she felt. The line between pain and pleasure started to blur. She reached a hand back, in another attempt to make him ease up, but he caught it just in time and pinned it behind her small back in a vice grip.

“Joe—

“Shut the fuck up,” his top lip curled, thrusting into her again with the same force as before. “I don’t wanna hear none of that shit. Fucking take it.” His free hand came down hard on her ass, immediately causing red welts to form.

Brielle was a glutton for punishment. Her pussy contracted and it was so wet she could hear the squishy noises like somebody was playing in running water.

“You hear that shit, Bri?”

“Yes, baby. She’s so wet for you."

“At least she’s honest.” His breathing was erratic as he tried to talk shit and fuck her at the same time. “She always shows me love.” His hand came down again and he relished at the sight of her ass with new welts forming.

“Fuck!” She cried. Another smack. Then another. His pace never faltering. He let his bottom lip sink between his teeth, concentrating on how his dick slid in and out of her effortlessly. She left him shining and covered in white stuff. Every stroke wetter than the last.

“You hate me, Bri?” His eyebrows furrowed. She tried her best to look back at him. A sheen of sweat covered him and his hair had fell wildly over his broad shoulders.

Joe’s battle with leukemia had him holding everyone he loved in a vice grip, close to his chest, fearing the day he ever had to let go. He didn’t have the luxury to invite negativity and hate of all things into his space. Which is why when Brielle expressed it earlier, it triggered something in him.

Brielle shook her head as much as she could. “No—no!”

“Huh?”

His larger frame hovered over hers as he leaned over and gripped the back of the couch to push harder into it from a different angle.

“Oh god! No—baby I swear I didn’t mean it! I didn’t mean it. Fu-uuuck!” Her voice shook as she tried to reason with him.

“Tell daddy how sorry you are,” he toyed with her. Joe only needed to hear it for his own ego. He already knew she was sorry. She looked the part. Brows turned down, hands reaching and grasping to hold onto something, while she struggled to breathe and keep her eyes from rolling to the back of her head. Pathetic.

She tried to catch her breath and fulfill his wishes, but his every move sent a shockwave of pleasure right through her. All she could focus on was the feeling happening where they connected.

“Say it,” he demanded through clenched teeth.

“I-I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, daddy. It won’t happen again!”

“Yeah, I know it won’t. Mhm, fuck.” His ways were backfiring on him as he felt the pressure for release build in his lower stomach.

Slowing his movements down, his hand came down on her ass again. “Come on,” he instructed. She already knew the drill, rocking back and forth on him at her own pace to help them both get to the finish line.

Together they ogled at one another. Brielle in complete awe at what he was doing to her body. Joe mesmerized by the beauty below him and trying to reconcile how she became his biggest problem.

He loved the fuck out of her. Would do anything for her. His favorite accomplishment. He vowed to spend the rest of his life with her, but everyday they spent together, that dream grew more out of reach.

How could something so ethereal looking be so problematic? So angry? So insecure?

Small whimpers and cries spilled from her throat before she made a declaration that calmed him as much as it terrified him.

“I’m gonna love you forever,” she declared. It was like a hex. A spell. Binding him to her forever. Cause the hard unshakeable truth was that as long as Brielle wanted him here, he’d never leave. No matter how many fights, how many crash outs, public incidents, he knew leaving her alone would leave him suffering.

Against his initial mission to punish her, his soft nature took control. He leaned all the way down to capture her plump lips in a kiss. He left a trail of open-mouthed kisses from her mouth to her cheek, until he reached her ear. Whispering a mix of loving reassurances and vile obscenities to her.

“I love you so much, Bri. Keep fucking me, baby. Just like that. Yesss. You feel so good,” he encouraged in between huffs of breath. “It’s all yours baby. Take it. Just yours. Nobody else’s.” His deep voice directly in her ear and the smell of her own arousal lingering on his beard, sent her body into overdrive as her pussy spasmed around him.

Brielle’s orgasm caused a chain of reactions. His dick swelled inside her while his balls tightened. At the last second he pulled out and covered her round ass with his release. She wasn’t on birth control and loathed the idea of kids ruining her physique.

He stroked himself until the last of his cum oozed out and threw his head back. “Mm,” he groaned. Shame on Brielle. She laid on the couch, head spinning from the beating she just took mixed with all the shots she took earlier. She was just about ready to call it a night, but Joe had other plans.

“Not done with ya ass yet. Come show me how sorry you are.” Like he had just ran a match fighting off guys twice his size in the ring, his chest rose and fell as his voice became menacingly deep.

His tall frame stood in the living room, widening his stance with his hips slightly pushed forward. His dick was covered in her essence, still hard as a rock, swaying slightly from him shifting his weight back and forth on both legs.

She climbed down from the couch, knowing better than to make him wait. Crawling like the feline she was at heart, she stopped right in front of him. God, he was just fucking perfect. All she really wanted to do was climb on him and drag another nut out, but it had to wait.

Placing her dainty hands on his muscular thighs, she gazed up him and ducked slightly to swirl her tongue on his large balls. "Yeah," he breathed deep, savoring the feeling of her warm mouth.

She took his heavy dick in her hand, giving the tip teasing licks and swirls. The visual of her on her knees worshiping him was a sight to see as she gathered spit and let it ooze onto him before sinking his length into her mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut, pushing him as far as she possible could.

“Look at me,” he instructed in a guttural tone followed by a moan. It was music to her ears. Everything about him turned her on. She studied him and the look of mixed lust and love he provided as their eyes locked, prompting her to slide a hand down and rub herself. “That’s right. Get it wet for me.” He rocked back and forth in her mouth, on the brink of another orgasm that quick. She watched the muscles in his abdomen flex from trying to hold his nut in.

He gathered her long silky tresses into somewhat of a ponytail in his hands and pushed her head down to hit the back of her throat repeatedly.

Going as far as her throat allowed he held her there and instinctively her hands pushed at his strong thighs. Tears spilled out the corner of her eyes feeling his warm release coat her throat.

“Aghh!” He threw his head back, going to a whole different realm for a while and coming back down to earth. He looked down at the beauty below him. Mouth still full of him, mascara running, with spit decorating her chin and chest. She looked perfect to him like this. Vulnerable. Submissive. But he knew it was all just a result of the circumstances. This version of her would be long gone and forgotten in the days to come. So he decided right then, he would take full advantage while he could.

He hissed upon sliding out of her mouth as her cheeks sunk in. He lifted her up with one arm and she wrapped her legs around him. His other hand found his still semi-hard thickness to ease into her. Together they exhaled when he slid in. The feeling of her had him bricked back up in no time.

"Hold on. Tighter," he instructed. He maneuvered her long legs in crook of his arms before moving her up and down at full force. All gas no brakes.

Joe hummed softly to himself, turning in the California King bed toward his wife. It was late. Their night didn’t end until the wee hours of the morning. He immediately knocked out when it was over. He was exhausted mentally and physically.

Brielle however, couldn’t quiet her mind long enough to sleep. He found her wide awake, staring up at the ceiling in the dark room. The city lights from their bedroom window cascaded over her enough for him to see her face. Something was wrong.

“What’s going on?” He questioned in a sleepy voice.

“Can’t sleep.”

“Then come here.” When she didn’t make a move to come closer to him, his eyebrows dented. She lay frozen in place, as the noice from the city took away from the eerie silence in the room.

“Do you think I need help?”

Joe released the breath he didn’t know he was holding. They had this conversation before. Too many times. Only it was never a conversation. Mostly an argument of some sort. Him complaining and practically begging her to get help. Trying to reason and get her to see that drinking at every event, at every inconvenience, just wasn’t normal. That it was killing them. Killing her.

“Doesn’t matter what I think. What do you think about yourself?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “…I don’t know.” He watched a single tear slide out the corner of her eye. He wanted to blame his own eyes beginning to sting on him being a natural empath, but he knew that wasn’t the whole truth. He loved this woman. So by default, whatever she felt he also felt times ten.

“I used to look in the mirror and loved what I saw. I was confident. Proud of what I was. And that was when I had nothing. I was a nobody three years ago. Now i’m somebody and I just feel so empty…”

Seeing a glimpse of the girl he met years ago, who snatched his heart from his chest with no remorse, had him frozen in place. Vulnerability was not a dress Brielle wore often. He bore a hole into the side of her face while she confided in him.

“All the flashing lights, the cameras, the money…I don’t know if i’ll be able to handle the day it all stops. I don’t think I know who I am without it anymore. I never meant for it to go this far.”

Joe took her dainty hand in his and squeezed. An attempt to let her know that everything was going to be okay. But the truth of the matter is that he didn’t know if everything would be okay. He knew he loved her and that she loved him right back. Only problem with that? The saddest truth about life is that sometimes love is just not enough.

….Well?😂

I know y’all were asking for a continuation of Biggest Fan, but I already had this in the tuck and was hyper fixating. Plus, I’m not entirely sure I want to continue Biggest Fan yet since I didn’t plan on it. I’ll keep y’all updated.

As always, if you read up until this point, I am forever grateful. Feedback is greatly appreciated!

taglist: @raya-hunter01

[xiaq]

Would you ever write a story or book about Kuzy? I need more of himmmm ❤️ one of the few characters I'd read MF for though I feel like if anyone would be chill about finding out he was bi and going with it, it'd be Kuzy lol #yeshomo

@rainbowsandcoconut

I don't currently have any substantive plans for a Kuzy story, but if you want some of my brainworms about him/his eventual romance, here you go:

He lives right next to a firehouse and there's a cute, kickass firewoman (cis, leans androgynous) named Nicole "call me Nic" with whom he has occasional banter-moments (I used to live next to a firehouse and if they were out front they'd always chat with me when I walked the dog; I loved that community dynamic).

One night after a rough game, Kuzy is going for a walk and Nic is sitting out on a lawn chair in front of the house processing a rough call, and they have a moment of shared vulnerability together, looking up at the stars. She's the child of immigrants and they bond over how stupid the English language is. Kuzy tells her about Eli/Hawk and she mentions that she loves dogs but can't have one with her work schedule.

Over the next few days, Kuzy can't stop thinking about her. He wants an excuse to see her more often that doesn't feel creepy, so he goes to the shelter nearby and offers to exercise dogs. Now, he has a perfectly good reason to walk past the firehouse (sometimes multiple times a day!) on the off-chance the firefighters are out and he can politely offer a dog's brief company for Nic's enjoyment.

Except he's not super smooth about it because the rest of the folks at the house realize pretty quickly that the giant Russian walking dogs only happens to walk dogs on the days that Nic is on shift.

Convenient.

This continues for longer than it probably should. Until Kuzy is hosting some of the Hounds and one of the rookies does something stupid. Not sure what. I'm thinking gets his hand stuck in an expensive vase. Or maybe his head. And Kuzy very sheepishly has to walk him over to the firehouse like, "hello, this baby is my responsibility, can you please rescue him?" And they eventually get the thing cut off of his hand/head/whatever but one of Nic's bros pulls Kuzy aside and says, "maybe you should just ask her out instead of coming up with increasingly more creative excuses to talk to her—at this rate someone is going to get hurt" and Kuzy is like, “ok, this was 100% not contrived and while I would like to go out with her, she is a goddess who saves lives and I am but a goofy athlete, undeserving of her attentions," and Firefighter Bro like, "you know, I think she'd settle for you."

So, spurred on by this bit of hope, he's like, "I need to do this right, this can't just be some hookup, I like her." And he starts Operation Woo Nic.

And the whole time Nic is like, "would you just fucking take me home, I would like to bang you," but he's trying so hard to be a gentleman about it that she lets him for a while. She's never been woo'ed before. Might be fun. Eventually she gets fed up and when he's dropping off cookies or whatever on his daily dog-walk she's like, "hey, do you want to be my boyfriend? Yeah? Great. We should have sex about that. My shift ends in three hours, what's your address?"

It is possibly the best day of Kuzy's life.

Anyway. As usual, there's no real plot, just vibes. But he is Smitten. And she is hopelessly endeared. And she's certified as a paramedic, so she's constantly ragging him for his little injuries and keeping him honest about PT. At some point she gets injured in the line of duty and he gets to be suitably dramatic and probably make declarations at her hospital bedside. He dotes on her for a while during her recovery.

And eventually he convinces her to move in with him so she can be close to work and she's like, "yeah? That's the only reason? For the ease of my commute?" And he says, "well that but also because I love you more than I thought was possible and when we're not together I miss you like a limb and our schedules are shit enough as it is, I'm greedy for every second I can have with you," and she's like, "yeah, fair enough."

So. Not really sure how it would end, but uh. There you go! Kuzy and his Firefighter Lady. Also he definitely foster-fails multiple times and hires a full-time nanny to take care of all his and Nic's dogs when she's on shift and he's traveling. It's great.

AND I imagine some very funny cultural confusion moments when her family (Japanese) interacts with his family (Russian) but they all generally bond over their shared love of fermented foods and dumplings. And alcohol. There are hijinks.

Ok. The End!

[11queensupreme11]

Hi! So, I actually don't know if I sent this ask cuz I wanted to send it at like 2 o'clock in the morning, and I also had the idea for the ask in what might have been a dream. Overall I am very confused, so if I did send this already or answered an ask similar to this then please ignore this 😅

So I was wondering what would happen if, in the cheating au, Percy does kill herself, but cu suddenly wakes up to when she first arrived, like in the isekai asks a while back. How insane would he be? Cuz I don't think he could just wait till the day he originally met her, and would just attack the greeks to get her back

oh i like this! back to the cú chulainn cheating au hehe (my fav au for him so far lol) and oooooooh another isekai to the past thing!!!!!!!

when cú chulainn wakes up back in his old room in his father's palace, he's gonna be confused. but then he gets the shock of his life when he sees what date it is; it wasn't just percy's "birthday" but also the year she was "born"

considering that they've been married for hundreds, maybe even thousands of years, he definitely knows about her arrival. she most likely told him what it was like, so he 100% knows to go straight to the bifrost to find her, knocks out the guards, and arrives just in time for her to fall out and catches her in his arms (awwww how romantic 💖)

this poor man is STRUGGLING not to get emotional. she's got bed hair, wearing the most ridiculous midgardian pajamas he's ever seen, and she looks lost af, but she looks absolutely BEAUTIFUL for him and he's in love all over again 🥺💖💖💖💖 he has to force himself not to be too forward; he has a chance to fix things again and he can't squander it by freaking her out.

so he plays along, acting just as clueless as her. he certainly has no idea how she got here, but he might as well take some responsibility and help the poor girl out! so he takes her back to the otherworld (the section of valhalla where the celtic pantheon resides). lugh is absolutely flabbergasted as to why his son's demanding they take in a mortal girl with an aura concerningly similar to poseidon, but he allows it thx to cú chulainn's insistence.

he tries to horde her in the palace LMAO 😭😭😭 just like the good ol days i guess. anyway, he becomes her friend and protector, the only person she can trust in this scary new universe. and he pretends to be helpful and try to find a way for her back home, when he's actually not. every day he comes with more grim news, "i'm sorry percy, no progress today", "i'm sorry, there was nothing new i could find", "i'm sorry, but things aren't looking so good..." he's trying to slowly ease her into the idea of giving on returning to that fucked up universe she calls "home", to break down every bit of hope she has left.

meanwhile, he tries to rizz her up LMAO 😭😭😭😭 but he actually knows what he's doing! this dude's a whore who slept with like... half of ireland, he is absolutely good at charming ladies. showing up shirtless and sweaty, getting in close to hear, touching her, rubbing her soothingly, etc. any girl would've swooned. the issue is that it's percy he's trying to rizz up 💀💀💀💀 percy who traveled through an entire labyrinth for days on end with a party of people who ALL liked her (anthonius, rachel, ethan) and didn't realize it 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

but it's okay cuz he knows how dense his silly (future) wife is, so he's not too irked. i know some ppl would think he'd be going insane rn, but nope! why would he fret? all the yans are out of the way, NOBODY knows of her existence aside from lugh and a few others, and he is the ONLY person she fully trusts. everything is going his way, he just needs to bide his time.

the most pressing matter is the issue of her soul. she's only got about a year before the first crack happens and she has to suffer agonizing pains 24/7, and then another year before she's obliterated for good. THAT'S his greatest worry, because he doesn't want percy to be in pain. his plan is to ascend into godhood and then ascend percy next to be his immortal wife and goddess in order to tackle the soul issue. forcing an ascension would make her hate him and he doesn't want that.

so he NEEDS her to fall in love with him fast so that the idea of eternity together wouldn't be so daunting to her. fortunately for him, getting her to fall would be easy when she's so isolated and he's the only other constant in her life 💖

also, you best believe he's never EVER going to cheat again. he's learned his lesson in the worst way possible, and he cannot ever put his beloved through that again.

[bambi-kinos]

Dakota Days Review

I got an ask requesting I post the Dakota Days review. The rest of the ask will be mega long so I don't want to just add on the review to the end and make it an even bigger read. So I'm posting this as its own free-floating thing.

So my deal is that in 2023 and 2024 I had enough time on my hands that I read a shitton of Beatle books (including most of the books in my big recommendation post, which I am still thinking about updating so keep in mind it hasn't achieved its final form.) I regularly talk these over with a friend and this review is mostly what I told her when she asked if she should read it or not. Either this will sell you on the book or it will not lol. I did some light editing for readability but otherwise it is mostly intact from the original post date February 13, 2023....good God, 2 fucking years ago!

Okay so Dakota Days. It's an account of John Green, also known as Charlie Swan who was a tarot reader that was close to the Lennons following John's return from his Lost Weekend.

Charlie states from the start that he is only trying to impart a snapshot of what it was like to live with John and Yoko during this time. He straight up admits that he has edited out certain parts of it to respect their privacy (and to cover his own ass as he did his fair share of scamming Yoko during this period.) He also straight up admits that he smushed together many years, events, and conversations in the book. He explains this very sensibly: while he claims a prodigious memory (which will prove not to be the case) he also says that he just spent too many years in John and Yoko's employment to recount all of them without boring the reader.

This is a very effective tactic. Charlie is deliberately telling us something that he is doing (editing the accounts of what happened) because it will make us trust him more. Being honest about misdoings you've done or will do tends to get people to like you more. This is what con artists do when they are trying to get people to fall for their schemes: they will tell you what they are doing and then they will do it. It is effective because it works. Charlie tells us that he is either misremembering or covering his own ass and because he does this we like him, which primes us to accept everything he says.

Charlie gets called up by Yoko only a few hours after John drags home. She renames him Charlie Swan because she knows John will be jealous of him having the same name. Charlie goes along with it because he knows Yoko is an easy mark; he claims in the text that he found John at Disney World of all places and that this is how Yoko ended the long weekend. Considering this is not how it happened we can guess that what Charlie actually did was pull the wool over Yoko's eyes and then claim credit for it. Again, a very effective tactic.

What happens next is really interesting: John feigns being poisoned. He's told Yoko that May poisoned him in his tea. Charlie reads the cards and they tell him "no way was John poisoned" and John leverages this to get Yoko out of the room. John picks Charlie's brain about the occult for a while and then lets him go home after a few hours.

Won't recount everything that happens next but I will say this: Dakota Days is the second half of the story about John's Dakota years and it compliments Fred's book perfectly. Fred depicted a manic John and a cold, distant Yoko. Charlie depicts a depressive John and an anxious Yoko in desperate need of hand holding at every single stage in her life. The amount of time and money that John and Yoko spend on con artists like Charlie as well as their other astrologers, mystics, and Korean herb healers is astounding. They were completely and utterly paralyzed with terror if they had to make decisions on their own. Indecisive, fretful, worried, anxious, Yoko straight up has a panic attack at one point because Charlie orders her to make a decision on her own and she almost dissolves into tears because she can't do it.

The funny part is I find none of these depictions at odd with one another. Yoko's imperious mask always hid the frightened baby underneath and John's aggressive ego always hid the broken hearted lover who wanted to be anywhere but where he was. Yoko didn't give Fred an "in" because he was a servant but she feared and respected Charlie so she could afford to be a broken little girl in front of him. John respected Charlie as a magician and hung on his every word. He didn't see a point in pretending to be something he wasn't like he did with Fred.

Charlie's big thing in the book is that he depicts himself as Spitting Straight Facts at John and Yoko. He condenses these into different conversations. For example, at one point Yoko takes John to Japan for a few months because she wants to convince him to live there full time. All of their clothes are packed according to what Charlie's tarot cards tell them are lucky to take. Yoko asks him to cast spells to keep John in a good mood. They plan out their journey to follow certain directions based on Japanese numerology that calculates the luck of cardinal directions. (Charlie cheerfully admits that this is outside of his education so he can't give an opinion on it. This is part of his set up, he doesn't have a problem admitting his weaknesses which makes him come off as more honest than he really is.)

It all goes wrong within two weeks: John hates Japan. Absolutely hates it. He hates having to entertain Yoko's family. He hates the hotels they are in. Yoko calls Charlie on the verge of tears and tells him that John is humiliating her in front of her family -- apparently Yoko's mother and sister called Yoko out on her bullshit and they accused her of accomplishing nothing with her art. (Holy shit, based?!) Yoko is desperate for John's wealth and status to impress her mother and tells Charlie, "I know what they say about me, they say that all I did was marry John and spend his money!" Which is of course absolutely true.

Yoko is desperate to win her mother's favor because she wants Sean to get a sizable piece of the inheritance but she was so disgusted with Yoko that she wouldn't even acknowledge Sean. (Brutal.) Yoko takes this personally because her sister Setsuko married a Westerner, a diplomat, and Yoko dissolves into hysterics over the phone demanding that Charlie tarot read for new, luckier clothes and have them air mailed to them. As far as I know, Charlie did it because it was an order and Yoko was paying his bills.

It gets worse though because John starts shuffling around like a zombie, moaning, whacking his head against the walls, etc. He tells Charlie that he's pretending to be dead. (I actually think I know what John was doing -- he probably absorbed some of Japan's pop culture about ghosts and he started imitating it.) This freaks out Yoko's family and her mother asked what the hell she was doing bringing this fucked up white guy to Japan. Charlie depicts himself as being the only person John can vent to which is something that I actually believe even though it probably didn't go down in precisely this way.

When Yoko tells John that they're going home soon, John perks up. He starts wooing Yoko's mother and makes nice with her. The funny part is that after all that, John actually succeeded in making Yoko's mother like him! Of course Yoko calls Charlie, again almost in tears, and tells him "John is doing it all wrong, he's being friendly with her, he's not holding her at a distance, he's buying her things and taking her out to fancy eateries!" Yoko is depicted as flat out hysterical in this conversation, enraged and upset that John charmed his way into her mother's good graces instead of making her submit by being ice cold and imperious (aka acting like Mimi) which dissolves her into anguish. And then, at the end of it all, Charlie says that Yoko is being ridiculous and it's a good thing that John is finally getting along with her mother. (Hittin' hard with that street wisdom!) Yoko is very bitter in response. After that chapter I thought, "man Charlie is putting up with a lot huh."

The entire book goes this way. It depicts a John that will make grand gestures towards Yoko (he has Charlie perform a "druidic" marriage ceremony to reaffirm his marriage to Yoko and Charlie has a GREAT time making shit up and forcing John to gather all this bullshit stuff that has nothing to do with Celtic traditions, Charlie's account is so so gleeful about making John dance like a monkey) but actively loathes her the rest of the time. Charlie outright states that their relationship is unhappy.

For example, when Sean was born, John was crazy with worry and made up the Dakota to be more comfortable for Yoko and the baby. But when Yoko finally came home she immediately handed Sean to the nanny (which John HATED, he tried to make her pick Sean back up because he was so upset) and went to her room after a huge fight with John. John then sat down with Charlie and bitterly vented about the fact that he knew Yoko didn't appreciate him and that he was furious that she smoked through her pregnancy and that she wasn't interested in Sean. He accuses her of making Sean sick which is probably true considering Yoko was probably on heroin through out the pregnancy! John is actually kind of stunning here because he is utterly pissed off at Yoko for putting Sean's health at risk and then snubbing John when she finally gets home. His breakdown when Yoko comes home is incredible. They have a baby that she hyped up to Charlie as a Messiah and then she didn't want him. And it still didn't make her love John. The despair in his words.

A lot of the conversations that Charlie depicts follows this pattern. At one point John gets so angry about Yoko's coldness that he picks a fight with her, gets in her face, and just starts screaming at her. She runs out of the room crying because she's frightened of him and then calls Charlie to do a tarot card reading on why John was so mad at her. Charlie speculates it's because she doesn't communicate well with John and he was trying to shake something loose. She goes on a long rant about why this can't possibly be the case because she's only doing what's best for him so please Charlie read the cards…. of course when Charlie spoke to John, John replied that he was angry that Yoko speaks Japanese because he doesn't understand what she's saying to the servants and he thinks that they're talking about him. He's paranoid and angry that she's doing something that he can't get involved with. So he started screaming at her and throwing cigarette packets at her.

At times like this, when Yoko and John are fighting, Charlie takes on an interesting role. He will tell them hard truths about their relationship that they don't like. When Yoko whines that John is being too independent in 1979, Charlie tells her that this is a good thing and that she should be happy that John doesn't need to be managed. He also tells her that she and John will be happier if they are independent of each other. This bounces off Yoko completely and she whines (Yoko is VERY childish in this book) that this isn't possible or safe because John is too stupid (!!) and naive (!!) to make decisions on his own.

Charlie very deliberately depicts himself almost as a marriage counselor to them. You can see his prodigious perfect memory fails him at these junctures because when he relays conversations, John and Yoko don't sound like themselves most of the time. But the funny part is, I totally believe it. I actually do think that Charlie Swan had moments where he gave his unvarnished opinion about JohnandYoko to John and Yoko. He could do this safely for a few reasons:

1) He knew they considered him superior to them. He successfully dug a foothold in their minds and had them both totally convinced that he was legit. They couldn't throw him out because he was their closest tarot reader and it looks like he also had a legitimate head for business because he was able to give them some good financial advice. All of this meant that they were in awe of him and neither of them wanted to go against what he said. They were completely at his mercy. In a way I think it's lucky that Charlie wasn't more malicious because he could have manipulated John and Yoko into doing some depraved shit if he felt like it. They both worshipped him completely. Independent sources verified that John called Charlie "the Oracle" and it wasn't all a jest.

2) Conmen are incredibly good at reading people. They see our weaknesses and they understand them. He had John and Yoko sized up the moment he met them. He realized John and Yoko were both inherently childish, very credulous, willing to believe anything, and that they would only take the easy way out. They wanted self improvement to come only at the cost of their check books. They loved spending money (I think they both had shopping addictions -- I know because I have a shopping addiction) and they didn't want to be disciplined in the slightest. In fact Charlie depicts several moments where outside parties force John and Yoko to be disciplined and they both react like children being forced to sit in the time out chair.

3) John and Yoko, being very petulant, lazy, and weak at this stage of their lives, were totally impervious to criticism. John at least admitted that he knew Charlie was right about certain things but Yoko always had excuses for why she couldn't give John a longer leash/respect him as her life partner, be nice to her mother (Charlie at one point straight up asks why she's being such a bitch to her mother and Yoko is full of pathetic excuses), spend time with her baby, etc. (She couldn't buy farmland on her own because she didn't know how to ascertain if any of the property was good, so she had Charlie do readings so she didn't have to take responsibility for it.) John and Yoko did not want to shoulder any kind of responsibility for anything at all. They are both depicted as sleepwalking through life, becoming outraged when anything temporarily waylaid them.

You could give them as many hard truths as you wanted and it would never take because they will never ever accept it or act on it or own their mistakes. John and Yoko are often at odds in the book, screaming and arguing with each other, John fucking things up on purpose for Yoko's family, but when it comes to Growing The Hell Up, they were a united couple saying "no the hell we will not!"

This is reading between the lines now but I think Charlie is straight up laughing at them at some points and he's letting us in on the joke. He knows that so long as they remain petulant and undisciplined, he will always have a job. So he can tell them honestly to their faces that they are bad parents, that they are a terrible couple, that John is a sullen asshole and Yoko is a whiny bitch, and they will never ever fire him. They will argue with him but Yoko will have him back in her bedroom in 15 minutes to get him to read tarot cards for her again.

A few things I found interesting:

Sean is not portrayed at all in the book. John once describes Sean as overly quiet and meek especially around John and John says it's because he knows Sean is frightened of him. Interesting that this is at odds with Fred's portrayal of Sean. However I actually feel a little soft towards Charlie Swan on this because I think he did it to protect Sean, the way he said he would protect the Lennons' privacy at the beginning of the book. I legit think he was shielding Sean because Sean under 18 when Charlie published this. I think he didn't want Sean to have to wrestle with being depicted in a memoir at that age. The Dakota situation is so fucked up that I legit believe that this expert scam artist might have been in the only moral person on John and Yoko's payroll. I say this because Charlie is absolutely fearless towards John and Yoko in this book so he clearly didn't give a shit about being sued for libel. So IMO he did it to protect Sean because Sean was only a child.

John goes in a 15 month depression in 1978 because Sean once asked him (after seeing one of their poor cats fall out of a window) what happened to the cat that died. John tells him that the cat went to the Land of the Dead because it fell, explaining that nothing can survive a fall out of a window that high. Sean apparently thought about it and said "then Daddy, why haven't you walked out the window?" Jesus Christ.

Charlie scolds John for being a shitty parent and tells him that Sean is just a kid and that he doesn't understand what he's saying. He's just repeating things that he's heard around the house, and if you read between the lines you can feel Charlie judging John and Yoko because Charlie understands that this exposure to the occult is fucking Sean up. John becomes very surly and asks him "how the hell do you know" to which Charlie replies "I studied art therapy and child psychology in college for my teaching degree." (Independent verification has proven that this is true!) John sinks even deeper into a funk that yet another person is proving to be more knowledgeable about John's children than John himself, and rolls over in bed, beginning a 15 month period where he won't see anyone. He just lays there watching tv with the sound off.

Yoko is constantly on edge. She's obsessed with what people think of her. Charlie describes 1979/80 as being very trying because Yoko constantly repeating the same questions for Charlie to read for, trying to divine what stories journalists will write about her next.

John is similarly obsessed with having a positive PR image. He's deeply upset that no one liked his Rock n Roll or Shaved Fish albums (because they don't have new material.) John spends an entire chapter moaning that he hates his audience because they don't love him enough. Then he admits that he thinks he owes them new material but that he won't commit to anything without having a decent stock of songs to burn through. Then he swivels back to piling more blame onto his audience and continues bitching that they don't love him enough to make up for the anguish that he feels all the time. He piled a lot of blame and resentment onto The Public for not being able to "fix" his sadness.

At one point Yoko wants to buy blessings/curses from an actual witch so they go to Brazil. They find a bruja and Charlie intimates to the audience that brujas are expert con artists in a class of their own. He relates that a bruja once sabotaged a building project at which time the builders invited her onto the property to do an """exorcism""" from which she made a tidy profit and they were able to resume building. (Charlie does not depict it in precisely this way but he relates the story in such broad ""magical"" terms that you can see him grinning, pointing, winking, and nodding at you from across the room. Charlie made it as obvious as he possibly could that he was totally fucking with these people and that he knew when other magicians were fucking with people as well.)

Yoko has to sit through a week of a Brazilian woman putting her through fake and expensive rituals, all while putting on a fake Jamaican accent??? Yoko is so dumb and desperate that she doesn't see through it. Charlie is incredibly contemptuous through out the section. He does have an interesting "magic" battle with the bruja (here called Nora, her actual name was Lena) where they size each other up and the bruja agrees to take Yoko on as a client. Eventually Yoko gets cold feet and begs Charlie for a way to get her out of the rituals because she's scared that Nora mentioned a "blood sacrifice" and Yoko doesn't want to kill someone.

To which Charlie replies: "Yoko, why don't you just tell Nora how you feel? You're the client, if you don't want to make a blood sacrifice then just ask Nora to do something different. I don't think she's going to kill a person but if you're that worried then you can tell Nora about your concerns and she'll either change it or explain what will happen. You're paying her, remember?"

Yoko dissolves into more hysterics. She's scared the bruja will put a curse on her or Sean or John. She's too anxious to ask for clarification or help. Charlie rolls his eyes through the entire section.

Then the actual ritual happens, Nora kills a dove (poor thing) and then tells Yoko to sign her name to sell her soul to…something? I actually didn't understand what, though Charlie told Yoko "it's impossible for you to sell your soul so just go along with it dumbass."

But Yoko melts down. She can't do it. She begs Charlie to sign on her behalf and it sounds like she was actually crying because she was so scared. Charlie and Nora both sigh but Charlie signs the document and Nora goes "okay, done!"

Yoko then asks Charlie "Hey did you sign Charlie Swan or John Green?" To which Charlie replies, "what makes you think I signed either of those names?" Yoko freaks out and follows him around going "What name did you sign?? Whose soul did you sell??? Charlie?!!!! Charlie!!!!" But he never tells her lmao. He is so fucking contemptuous of her, it's amazing. This sequence is Charlie Swan rubbing his superiority in Yoko's face with utter glee, and he completely gets away with it. She's too scared to argue with him.

Obviously Charlie doesn't talk about everything here. For example, he and Sam Green both pulled a fast one on Yoko by counterfeiting a painting and selling it to her -- her own boyfriend! It was a complete success, she paid them both handsomely for it. He doesn't talk about that here. But it's clear from the outset IMO that he lies his ass off about tarot reading through out the entire book and is able to do as well as he does because he does actually have some good business sense.

I have to be honest: I respect the fuck out of Charlie Swan. This man is a king. He scammed John and Yoko out of millions. He did so well that he could tell them how awful they were to their faces and they had no choice but to swallow it whole. They didn't have the sac to stand up to him. And he was kind enough to write this book and show us how he did it: by taking advantage of their fear, petulance, and refusal to grow up. Dakota Days is an amazing book.

I have decided that the rocknroll industry is one big trailer park and John and Yoko had the biggest trailer. John is straight up wandering around in a robe and curlers reading the astrology and Dear Abby sections of the newspaper, Yoko is knocking back forties wondering when she can upgrade to the younger model. Sean is their poor kid with a learning disorder that is doing the pyromaniac thing. Going to Swiss boarding school (so that Yoko didn't have to be reminded of John) is probably what straightened him out and saved him.

Not trying to diss trailer parks, I met a lot of nice people who lived in them when I worked insurance, so pulling more from sitcom trash here. But John and Yoko fought, a lot, like these types of couples always do (that anecdote of Pete Shotton's second phone call where Yoko is screaming her head off in the background. I live next to a trashy family like this.) Who knows what Sean heard and what he repeated because he was so young.

This is the book that convinced me that John retreated into the Dakota out of shame. He knew that being with Paul was the best thing that ever happened to him, the only good thing, and he fucked it up with drugs and untreated mental illness. Which sadly has to be hung around his own neck. He blew his life up for no reason and he hid because he knew that.

John thought there were only two options: go back to Yoko or eat crow and go back to Paul. He couldn't stand either but at least with Yoko he didn't have to dance for the press. It never occurred to him that he had options and could do anything.

[haveihitanerve]

The Book Game: Slugs and Chinese-

WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T READ CHINESE?!?!?!

(I am working on Toby’s Pocket commentary I swear) I saw this one yesterday and its too fucking funny and also shorter so here you all are :) hope you enjoy

Tom: did anyone come to a comedy show- Audience member: *my time has come* Tom: *wait I wasn’t done with my epic monologue, its really funny I swear :(*worried that it would be boring as hell- Sam: *laughing maniacally* AJ: jesus

Aj: *opens book, stares, shock, turns to audience*

I love how the second the audience starts laughing at AJ’s shock, Tom immediately knows its because of him and cuts off to look at him. They’re so fucking cute

Luke going to inspect the book, finding nothing amiss in the title, and then exploding when he sees the writing inside- I’m having flashbacks to Lonely Planet When Europe

Luke so delighted he has to cross the stage and almost falls into Tom 🫠😭

Tom having to inspect the book too because ok now Luke has been laughing for too long and he’s curious lol

“Yeah tom you bigot!” Sam needed an excuse to join the chaos and of course, insulting tom is the way to go XD

Tom’s resigned sigh and drop of the book as AJ and Luke lose it. They delight each other so much its absolutely wonderful to see

“So lukes gonna introduce this game now-” Tom wants to be a part of the chaos XD

“Make sure its not racist okay?” Tom had to shift the attention to someone else lmaoo

I just adore how they did not, in fact, think to return the book and get one they understand because, for the bit, they know this book is best, and that they specifically made AJ keep it, because he is the chaos king and would do best by it XD

“A little knowledge…” Luke: *waiting expectantly for him to finish the sentence, then finishes it for him because the sentence in the book is not that* i love them so much omg

“OH! BAD TEMPERED THOUGHT!” LMFAOOO WHAT???

“Ooh… ohhh malice!” Sam i adore you XD

Here comes aj XD

“What does that say?” YESS AJ!!! SNEAKY CLEVER BOI!!! YES!!!

“YOU MEAN YOU DON’T READ CHINESE??!??!” BETRAYED AJ HELPPPP- his life is flashing before his eyes dude is panicking

Audience member: *frantic* my dad does! AJ: *quickly scoots further* oh!

Aj having to break for a second and just lay still as a dying slug because what even is his life XD

“Play hateful, this.” His face helpppp-

Also love how that actually worked really well in the scene???

Tom: *introducing himself into the scene, literally* Sam: *reciprocating* AJ: [desperately] does anybody else speak chinese?!?!

“It goes with high heels.” AJ needing to fold his head into his arms to laugh, Tom pausing the scene because he heard that and what, Luke laughing at AJ’s pain, and Sam trying to keep them focused XD

AJ’s little leg kicks im crying

“MAKE NO MISTAKES!!!” Tom sounds genuinely distressed lmaoo

“OOOOHHHH!” *frantically trying to find a good line comeback*

“Variation in your tactics!” Confirmed that all that matters while speaking is proper tone because that sounds withering coming from Tom, but is actually a very mild sentence lol

Aj standing and Tom genuinely surprised while Luke and Sam fake surprise XD

“THAts not FAir!” Tom’s hands shooting up in surrender and his little grin at AJ that makes AJ smile back 🫠😭

Sam: “Troublemaker!” it is true 🤷‍♂️ AJ: *flipping open his book, forgetting he doesn't speak chinese* chapter four. Brilliant words, truly eloquent aj🤧

Aj and Sam doing “and scene” in unison, every time they do it it kills me for no reason

AND SCENE

Ahhhhh that was fucking glorious. Loved every single second of it, and this means that when I finally get to go to one of their shows, I’m bringing a German book, it has been decided lol. 

Anyway hope you guys found as much enjoyment in AJ’s distress and the other guy’s mutual delight as I did, and I shall return as quickly as possible with Toby’s Secret Pocket and Jingle Boys commentary :) 

BYEBYE!!!

@snek-of-eden @dawn-speckled

[thecreelhouse]

tramps like us

Paring: Gator Tillman x fem!reader

This is part of tramps like us, but can be read as a stand-alone (you might be lost with some details but overall it should be fine). I’m making this separate because I know this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, so if you are reading the series, you can skip this if you aren’t interested!!

Summary: You finally bite the bullet on one of your most sought after kinks.

〘 series masterlist ✧.┊this is a sequel to part time soulmate, full time problem ✧.┊listen to the series playlist ✧.┊read on AO3〙

WC: 3.4k+

CW/includes: gunplay/CNC roleplay, dirty talk, teensy bit of hurt/comfort in the beginning, discussing safe sex and boundaries, bdsm elements, dacryphilia, oral (m & f receiving), object insertion 🫣, toys, minor spoiler details for the series (also gator is on the softer side in this series, so if you’re not into that this isn’t the fic for you)

A/N: yes. I know. The wedding chapter should’ve been next, but look, I’m finishing it up finally. This idea came to me for the holiday (I’m a day late don’t @ me), and who am I to turn down an opportunity to slut out? Friendly reminder THIS IS FICTIONAL and though I went the “safer” route in writing gunplay, please do not take this (or any of my fics) as advice for your own sex life lol. Everything in this is between two consenting adults, and I tried my best to research but I know nothing about guns irl lmao. If anything’s inaccurate just look the other way. hope y’all that read this enjoy it <3 (divider cred: @/saradika-graphics)

ch. 10 ✧.┊

sick thoughts - Lou Bliss

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

⋆｡♪ look what you’ve caused / you got ‘em too / sick thoughts ♬ ₊˚.

A few days before Valentine’s Day, you find Gator sitting in the kitchen, enjoying a bagel in the quiet morning hours. As you pour your coffee, you decide to pop the question, one that’s been on your mind for quite some time:

“You think it’s possible to safely fuck a gun?”

Gator sputters and coughs, bagel pieces flying onto the table as he clears his throat. Sipping from your mug, you wait patiently for him to regain composure.

He coughs out, “What the fuck?”

“Well, that’s not the reaction I expected,” you frown, pulling out a chair at the table to sit across from him. “Sorry, it’s just… been on my mind a lot.”

“I thought this was all an ‘in theory’ kinda kink?” Gator gulps down water, eyes misty from coughing so much. Okay. Yeah. Maybe this was a bad time to spring the question.

“Yeah, it is. It was. Kinda. I don’t know. I’m just asking!” You shrug, staring down at your mug. “You know I don’t know a damn thing about guns.”

He sighs with a serious expression, one that’s rare, even for him. “Darlin’, this ain’t somethin’ to mess around with.”

Brows furrowing, you scoff, “Since when do you care about safety? We’ve done knife play already!”

“Since ya’ told me about this to begin with,” he runs a hand down his face, stressed already. “I was gonna teach ya’ some shit last year, remember? And knife play’s dangerous too, but this is beyond that.”

“Yeah, yeah, and the timing was bad, and we never got around to it— so teach me now.”

Gator leans forward on the table, cautiously studying your face. “Why now?”

Embarrassment floods through you, keeping you tight lipped. You shake your head, leaving the table. “Forget it. You’re right.” You flop onto the couch, sighing, feeling ridiculous for even bringing it up.

“No, c’mon. Don’t be like that,” he groans as he follows you, dropping onto the couch, cuddling up against your side. “Somethin’ else is goin’ on.”

“It’s stupid.”

“It ain’t stupid if it’s botherin’ you, that’s what you’re always tellin’ me.” Gator hooks an arm around your waist, nudging you onto his lap. With ease, you settle against him, sighing again. His arms wrap around your waist, holding firmly. “M’gonna hold ya’ hostage here ‘til ya’ tell me what’s up.”

“Everything’s been so… perfect, and I feel off. And I hate that I feel off.” You wind your arms around his shoulders, resting your head on one of them. “There’s always been some kinda pain or traumatic bullshit goin’ on, I got used to it after awhile. But now… I- I don’t know what to do with myself. Nothing is wrong, I have everything I need, everyone I need, but I feel like something’s wrong and I feel so guilty for that. It feels bad, and it shouldn’t. Does that make any sense? ‘Cause it doesn’t make any damn sense to me.”

“We both were raised horribly, so it makes sense that’s kinda all we know… or knew for awhile. It makes sense to me.” He shrugs, trying to reassure you.

Sitting up, you dare to look him in the eye, bottom lip trembling. “Life feels so weird without the constant fight or flight… does that make me a bad person for missing it?”

He doesn’t answer you, only asks, “You’re still doin’ therapy, right?”

You huff, “Yeah. We talk about it. Just not… y’know… The gun play part.”

“Darlin’, a gun play scene ain’t gonna fix it. I know how big the trust is for ya’, but I’m not risking it.” Gator’s fingers dance along your spine in soothing repetitions. “I haven’t handled a gun in over a year, I don’t feel comfortable with this.”

“I know that, but I just… I want to feel something. But what I don’t want is to make you uncomfortable, so let’s forget it, okay? M’sorry for saying anything, I really didn’t mean to pressure you—“

He grabs your chin softly, tilting your face to look at him. 

“We can role play. It’s not the same, but it ain’t lethal, at least. Use a fake training gun, one that feels real, just ain’t functional. We go over the entire scene, what we want and don’t want, and if you’re comfortable with that, then I am, too.”

It might not be exactly what you wanted, but you knew Gator was right. Plus, you were kind of proud he was taking initiative to be safe with a scene; maybe you’ve corrupted him, but at least he’s being smart about it.

“Okay, as long as you’re comfortable, I am, too.” You kiss him softly. “I love you. Thank you.”

“Love you too, Darlin’.”

Everything down to the most minuscule details were discussed between you and Gator; what you wanted, what your hard limits were in a scene like this, choosing the traffic light system over a safeword, the kinds of replica firearms you were both comfortable with, so on.

Turns out, NYC’s gun laws are rigid even with prop guns, too. Gator was very serious, even about this; the replica was not to leave the house, ever. Which, okay, yeah, makes sense. You had no issue with that.

Valentine’s Day had a window of several hours where no one else would be home, out for plans or work, which you figured was perfect timing; though no one could hear you in the apartment, now that the vent’s fixed, you still wanted to play it completely safe.

Honestly, you tried to forget about the plan. Tried to ignore the details of the scene, but all day at work, your mind could only daydream of it. You may or may not have spaced out on a few customers, or dropped more than a few books dreaming of the possibilities of what could happen.

Didn’t help much how soaked you were just from those thoughts alone.

When you finally arrived home, the lights were off throughout the whole house, adding to the thrill. Cautiously, you climbed the stairs to your apartment, fumbling with your keys, hands shaking with excitement.

They slip from your fingers when something pokes the middle of your back, cool and hard. You freeze.

Oh, fuck.

“Go ‘head,” he rasps in your ear from behind, “Pick ‘em up, pretty girl.”

You expected to find Gator on the other side of the door, not out here; that was never decided on, you just assumed, and the surprise had you trembling already.

Slowly, you crouch down, hands grabbing at nothing in the dark. It takes a few tries until the metal jingles against your fingers. You bounce back up, unlocking the door, yet hesitating to open it.

“It’d be a shame if ya’ didn’t invite me in, princess.”

You nod wordlessly, stepping into the dark apartment, feeling the weapon as it prods at your spine while he follows you inside.

“Y- you know, my boyfriend’s gonna be home any minute—“

“Yeah? The former cop?” He breathes down your neck, licking a stripe up to the shell of your ear. “Heard he’s gone soft, bet he won’t do shit.”

You didn’t expect him to get so into this, but you’re loving it.

“Shut up,” you warn, but it comes out in a shaky whisper. Gator pushes the weapon into your back a little further.

“Don’t tell me what to fuckin’ do.” He nudges you towards the staircase. “Go on, show me where your toy box is so we can play.”

Dropping your things by the door, you make the slow journey across the apartment to the stairs, a little too slow for his liking. Gator pushes the muzzle into your back, grunting.

When you reach the loft bedroom, he asks softly, “Color?”

“Green,” you answer without hesitation, nodding eagerly. 

“Strip for me.” Gator flips the light on, casting a dim glow to the bedroom. With trembling hands, you remove your sweater and miniskirt, kicking your shoes off to leave you in the lingerie set he got you for Christmas, and your thigh highs.

When you look up, he’s perched on the edge of the bed in camo pants, combat boots, gun holster and bomber jacket, with a balaclava covering his face. Next to him is the replica gun— jesus, it’s a rifle, and it looks real.

He whistles lowly,  “Gon’ look so good on your knees f’me.” He beckons you over, and though hesitant, you obey. Spreading his legs, he leans down close, running a hand through your hair to tug. “Where’s your toys, princess?”

You glower his way. When you don’t answer, he pulls on your hair harder.

“Ah! T- top drawer!”

Gator releases you roughly, “Stay.” He finds his way over to the drawer, rummaging around for a bit until he settles on a toy. Kneeling behind you, he smacks your ass. “Up, on your knees, keep ‘em spread.” You comply, whimpering as you feel silk bondage rope wind around your thigh, with something attached. Shit. It’s your wand, pressed snugly against your clothed core.

“Look at that… you’re fuckin’ soaked already.”

“Shut up!”

Cuffing your hands behind your back, he mutters, “Wouldn’t do anything stupid if I were you.” He flicks the wand on, immediately jolting your body forward. You catch your balance, whining as you steady yourself on your knees. 

Rounding you, Gator sits back on the bed, unzipping his pants. You bite your lip, hoping to stifle any moans eager to already escape.

He removes a pistol from his holster, smirking wickedly down at you. Gently nudging the muzzle against your lips, he murmurs, “Open.” You obey, feeling the cool, heavy metal breach just past your lips. “Lick.” Dragging your tongue along the barrel, you glance up at Gator, watching his eyes darken through his mask. “Suck.”

At first, you don’t take much in, until he begins to meet the bobbing of your head with several pushes. The barrel lays heavy on your tongue, gagging when he pushes it once more. He pulls it out completely, chuckling as you drool all over yourself, panting and squirming against the vibrator.

“Pathetic slut. You’re close already, huh?”

You shake your head, choking back another moan.

“S’okay to like it,” Gator caresses your cheek, smirking at the tears already building in your eyes. “I won’t tell your boyfriend.”

“Please…”

“Please… what? C’mon, don’t get shy on me now, sweetheart.” He shoves the muzzle into your cheek, rough enough to probably leave an imprint. “You got three seconds to start talkin’, princess.”

You shake your head again, frantic, eyes scrunching shut.

“Three… two… o—“

“Pl- please! I’ll do anything, don’t— don’t—“ A gasp is caught in your throat, and Gator’s about to check in again, but you babble out, “I’ll be good for you! Just let me cum, I’ll be so good, I won’t— I won’t say anything!”

His wicked grin is back, pulling the gun away before sickly praising you, “There she is, there’s the good girl I came to play with.” He grabs your chin, and you wince, a sob falling from your lips as you allow yourself to give into the pleasure.

“I’ll let you cum as much as ya’ want, but m’gonna keep that pretty mouth busy.” His hand winds through your hair, tugging you into his crotch. “Show me how bad ya’ want it.”

You whimper against his bulge, nuzzling as it hardens under his clothes. He pulls his pants down, grabbing the back of your head to shove your face against him again. You lap at the firm length through his briefs, soaking a dark spot next to another he started on his own.

“Guess I’m not the only one who’s wet,” you mutter. Gator grabs you by the hair again, forcing you to look up at him.

“What’d you say?”

“I said you’re wet too, prick.” You’re getting too mouthy, so Gator shoves the gun up to your head. Immediately you break into a sweat with unsteady breathing. “M’sorry, m’sorry!”

Both the gun and his hand fall away, freeing himself from his briefs. His length slaps against his tummy, precum leaking from the tip.

You don’t wait for his instruction, just dive in, licking a broad stripe up his shaft, taking him into your mouth in one fluid motion. You force yourself down as far as your throat allows, throwing Gator off with a shout.

He knows he won’t last long.

“Fuck— fuck—“ He bucks up into your face, shuddering as you gag around him. He begins fucking your face, easily reaching his high when he feels your moans vibrate around his cock, while watching mascara run down your face. His length twitches and pulses on your tongue, release shooting to the back of your throat. “Such a—“ he thrusts “-good-“ thrusts again “-fuckin’-“ and one more time, holding your face against the thatch of curls at his base  “-girl.”

Your orgasm hits, catching you by surprise as you were so distracted while Gator used you. Again, by the crown of your head, he yanks you back by your hair, watching with sick pleasure as you cry out your climax.

“Poor thing’s spent already, what a shame.”

“No, n- no I can keep going, please, I wanna, I need to,” you babble,  unbothered by how much of a disaster you must look like right now.

He looks down between your legs, watching as you drip through your panties, licking his lips. “Up.” His arms hook under your own, lifting you up onto shaky legs. You’re barely on your feet for long before he pushes you into the bed, face first.

Gator’s behind you, grabbing your hips to lift your ass up, giving a hard smack to your backside. Untying your wand from your leg, he pulls your panties down, sliding them off your legs and rounding the bed.

Crouching down next to you, he pets your hair out of your face, gently caressing his fingers against your scalp. 

“You know what to do if ya’ can’t verbally give me your color, right?” His voice matches his tender touch, and you nod. “Can you show me?”

Sliding his hand under yours, still cuffed behind your back, you tap his hand once “Green,” two times, “yellow”, and three times, “red.”

“That’s my girl,” Gator kisses your cheek, leaving you with a soft smile. “Color?”

“Green.” Your dazed demeanor and pleased expression are a contrast to the smeared, tear-stained makeup on your face. He takes the consent to continue, leaving to stand behind you again.

Spreading his hands against your backside, he caresses your soft skin, groping at the plushest parts of your curves.

“Who knew a pretty thing like you’d get turned on when you’re scared…” His breath fans against your core, lapping once through your folds. You jolt with a whine, wrists weakly fighting against your cuffs. “Fuck, that’s good,” he hisses, delving back in while spreading your thighs apart. 

Gagged, you moan into the fabric, tongue catching your own essence.

“Imagine what your man would think, seein’ ya’ like this… just wait ‘til I really ruin ya’.” He slurps lewdly, groaning into your folds as he laps up the slick arousal. “You’re gettin’ married soon, huh? Ain’t gonna be one part of ya’ left that’s innocent when I’m through with ya’.” He slips a finger inside, right as you clench over his words with a high pitched whine. “Shit… you like that? Want me to ruin ya’?”

You hum a pathetic, weepy, “Mhm,” into the gag, nodding against the pillows. You’re floating, and you don’t ever want to come down.

“You need this, don’t you?” Another finger slides in, curling perfectly into that delicious spot that craves attention. “Ain’t enough t’get fucked, gotta be threatened and thrown around a bit…” He pumps his hand harder, tongue flitting out to your clit. Your toes curl and back arches as the bliss builds. 

Again, you agree with a shameful noise.

“Got a surprise for ya’, princess.” Mouth and touch disappearing, you let out a soft sob, wrists pathetically attempting to break free. He grabs your wrists, pinning them to your back roughly. “Stay still, don’t want ya’ gettin’ hurt… yet.”

That familiar sensation of cool metal against your body slips between your folds. It grazes your clit, hips twitching with the desire to roll. 

“Bet you ain’t been fucked with a gun before,” Gator’s voice is low, focused and gravelly as he nestles the barrel against your core, folds puffing out on each side as you drip down onto the weapon. “Bet it’s a real wet dream for ya’… but don’t worry, s’gonna be a reality soon.”

You stay still, painfully stiff while all kinds of desperate little sounds slip out of your gagged mouth. Breaths falling shallow, you feel the barrel slide down to your entrance, muzzle nudging against the hole’s edge.

Gator spits onto your entrance, teasingly inching the gun in; it’s smoother than you expected, easier to take than anticipated, too, with its slim build. It feels like the rifle, and your guess makes you lightheaded.

He pumps it slowly, reaching deeper inside you, observing your expression; you’re gone, maxed out in bliss as your eyes roll back and you tremble around the rifle. 

“I’d kill to see ya’ get spitroasted with a gun on each end…” He mutters, pumping the firearm a little faster. “Look at you… a fuckin’ wreck. Would it make ya’ cum, knowin’ I got my finger on the trigger?”

Crying out into your gag, you do exactly as he had hoped, convulsing around the barrel of the gun as the shock of your orgasm speeds through you. Even in role play, the perilous weight of his words bring you to the edge with ease.

Jesus fucking christ I’m fucked up.

Cursing under his breath, Gator is careful as he cautiously takes the replica out of you, allowing you to collapse onto your stomach as you catch your breath. Through bleary eyes, you watch as he comes closer, eye contact strong and stern as he licks the aftermath off the rifle.

“Fuck, tha’s’hot,” you rasp out. He chuckles, setting it aside while crouching back down to you. When he pulls the mask off, you frown. “We’re done?”

“Think so, Darlin’, you’re pretty spent.” Even Gator’s winded, but more-so emotional than physical. His cheeks are flushed red, lips glistening with your slick. He cradles your face in his hand, “Did so damn good for me.”

“You didn’t finish.” You hate that he went through all this trouble to please you, but he shrugs, smirking.

“I did once, but I didn’t need to, this was ‘bout you.” He stretches over your back, unlocking the cuffs, gently turning you onto your back. He brings your wrists up to his lips, kissing the tender skin. “Just takes more out of me than I expected.”

Your lips turn downward again, “I’m sorry, Gator. I didn’t mean to pressure you into all of this—“

“You kiddin’ me? That was so hot,” he breathily laughs. While stripping the rest of his clothes, he adds, “Just gonna take some gettin’ used to, but I liked it if you did.” He climbs into bed with you, embracing you flush against his figure. “We can play again sometime, if you want.”

“Yeah, s’long as we’re in the right headspace for it.” You nod giddily, but a smidge of shame works its way through your post-orgasm bliss. “You don’t think of me any differently, do you?”

Gator leans back, brows furrowed down at you. “What? Fuck no. Why? ‘Cause you liked this? No way.” Cupping your cheek again, you lean into his palm, warm and comforting. “I told ya’, I like exploring this shit with you, and this was somethin’ I always wanted you to be safe with.”

You kiss his cheek, “Thank you for trying new stuff with me, and keepin’ me safe. Although…” you cringe, “Even though I trust you, m’really glad we stuck to prop guns. I was fucking nuts for even thinkin’ I could handle the real thing.”

He lets out a sigh of relief, “So it didn’t ruin the scene?”

“Nope, felt it was easier to slip into subspace without that extra… stress.”

The two of you continue talking about the scene; the more you practice this part of aftercare, the easier it’s becoming to discuss your likes and dislikes with little to no shame. 

“We should probably clean ourselves up,” Gator groans, not ready to move. “Might have to skip goin’ out tonight.”

“S’okay, we can get one of those cheesy heart shaped pizzas,” you snuggle into his chest. “The place ‘round the corner does ‘em for the holiday.”

He snorts, “Nothing says romance like a pretend break-in and heart shaped pizza for date night.” You pinch his cheek and he swats your hand away. “Ow!”

“C’mon,” you pull him out of bed with you, joking, “let’s go wash the filth and shame away first.”

[measuredingold]

with you, anywhere will be my home

author’s note: hiiiiiiiii. it’s been a minute, huh ? i’ve honestly been sitting on this for 2 weeks 😅 but happy i’m able to finally get this out for yall ! think of it as a v-day treat 🥰 i love this universe i built with folio and reader and have so many ideas for them lol as always, please enjoy and feedback is appreciated ! and requests are open btw, i’m in a rut and am not sure what people wanna read :) title a translated lyric from bts’ song home

pairing: nick folio x reader

word count: 2.2k

cross posted on ao3

cw/tw: miscommunication 🤥, fluff fluff fluffffff, first time saying i love you, nick is so smitten with reader it makes me sick, 18+ minors do not interact

It's almost a no brainer when Nick decides to ask you to move in.

It makes perfect sense. You're always together when he's home, switching between one place or the other, and it just makes a lot more sense than having your own separate spaces. He doesn't want to be separate anymore. He wants to know that when he's coming back from tour he's coming home to you, in a space you both share and make your own.

There's only one hiccup to this no brainer decision - he hasn’t even said I love you yet. Neither have you.

It's only been 9 months. Not a full year yet, but Nick thinks by month one he was fully in love with you. He might've been from the jump. You were the only person he thought about, the only person he yearned for. Which is crazy to think, because Nick's sure he's never yearned for a single person a day in his life. But it's different when it comes to you.

You're who he sees when he thinks about the future. When he plans out the rest of his life, coming up with every single possibility that could happen between now and then, you somehow manage to be in every single scenario. At first it was jarring, you popping up into his future daydreams, but now it's comforting.

If you asked him right now to spend the rest of his life with you, he'd say yes before you even finished your sentence.

So why hasn't he said it yet? Hell if he knows.

It's not that he doesn't think you love him because deep down he knows you do. Can see it in the way you look at him, in the way you smile, in the small gestures that you make. He stares at you just the same, smile way too big that it hurts his fucking face, and those same small gestures.

You love him the way he loves you.

Which is why he's decided that when he asks you to move in with him, he's just going to say it. No more silent looks and shared smiles when saying goodbye. Nick doesn't think he can go another day without telling you that he loves you. It's corny, but he needs you and just about everyone in a hundred mile radius to know immediately.

So, he'll tell you tomorrow. Easy.

...

Not easy.

Nick never thought he was much of the anxious type, yet here he was pacing outside your front door. He felt hot, hands clammy as he stared at the only thing separating the two of you. He has a key. He can let himself in. Yet, he can't seem to get himself to do it.

Because he knows once he goes in, there's no going back.

He isn't scared of your rejection because he knows that's not the likely outcome. He knows you love him. He thinks he may be a bit scared of what comes next. This is probably the most serious relationship he's ever been in, and he doesn't want to fuck that up. He doesn't think that he would, intentionally at least, but the what if of a hypothetical fuck up has been eating at him for hours.

His eyes flutter shut as he takes in a long deep breath before he finally braves unlocking your door.

His hand shakes as he twists the handle and he mentally swears at himself to fucking calm down, it’s just you, everything’s fine, but when he finally sees you, it’s like the world stops for just a moment. You look up at Nick from your couch, book in your lap, and the smile that spreads across your face makes Nick relax for maybe a split second.

"Hey baby."

"Hi."

He doesn't move, just stares at you from where he's standing, and your expression turns from happy to amused, arms crossing over your chest.

"Babe?"

He blinks. "Yeah?"

"...Whatcha' doin?"

"Um." His face burns at the sound of your giggle at his unusual behavior, but truthfully he doesn't know how to act right now. "Standin'."

"Oh yeah?" You arch a brow at him, more laughter escaping. "Why don't you quit standin' and come sit with me? I missed you."

He'd been gone a few days, out in California to put down some tracks for the new album. He'd just gotten home the day before when he decided he was going to ask you to move in with him because he couldn't stand coming back to an empty home. Nick blinks at you again before he smiles, warmth spreading across his chest as he looks at you seated on the couch.

This is what he wanted to come home to. He wanted to come home after a tour, or after a few weeks in California laying down some drums, to you reading your book on the couch.

"It was only a few days." He hums out and makes his way towards you, flopping himself down beside you.

"I always miss you when you're gone." You shrug before pouting at him. "Did you not miss me?"

His heart speeds up, pounding against his chest and he immediately shakes his head. "I wasn't saying that I didn't-"

"I was just messing with you," You cut him off with a laugh, face softening as you looked at him. "What's goin' on? You're acting weird."

Nick chews on his bottom lip before moving his gaze to the muted television, shoulders going up into a shrug. " 'm not acting weird."

"Yes, you are."

Okay. He is. He knows it and he knows you know it, but he just isn't sure what to say. How do people bring this up? Hey, I'm in love with you. Let's live together. It seems easy enough to say in his head but the second he gazes at you again, his words fall short.

So much for easy.

"I..." Nick starts and then sighs, sliding a hand down his face. "You ever have something to say, but just don't know how to say it? In my head it's so easy but every time I try to get the words out, I lose everything I even wanted to say."

Your face softens. "What happened?"

"What?"

"Something happened when you were gone." Your eyes narrow. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened." He mumbles out, eyeing you for a moment. "I just... realized something, but I don't know how to tell you."

"Oh."

For some reason, the detached tone in your voice makes his stomach turn. You shift on the couch, moving your eyes away from him as you look to the side. It's silent between the two of you now and Nick hates it. It's never felt this awkward before. Uncomfortable. He fucking hates it.

"Babe-"

You cut him off. "...Did I do something?"

"No." He's quick with his response, shaking his head quickly. "Fuck. No, you didn't do anything."

His stomach turns at the way you don't respond and wrap your arms around yourself, your arms being some form of protection. From him. Fuck. That's definitely not what he wanted to do. He shakes his head again, eyes pleading as he reaches out for you.

"You didn't do anything."

"Well, it sure feels like I did." You laugh, strained, and Nick swallows down whatever lump was building in his throat. "This feels awfully like a break-up, Nick."

"What?" His voice comes out a lot louder than he expected, and he hates the way his heart breaks beneath his chest at the sad look you finally give him. "I am not breaking up with you. That is not what's happening."

"Then what's happening, Nick?" You whine out, lips dipping into a frown. "You're being weird and saying you have something to tell me but don't know how to tell me. That sounds a lot like I want to break up with you, but I don't know how to tell you."

Nick pauses for a moment, eyes scanning over your face before he breathes out a quiet "Fuck," and shuts his eyes.

He messed up - majorly.

All he had to do was just fucking tell you that he loved you and this would've been all avoided, but instead he had to go and do whatever the fuck this was.

"Babe, listen to me." His eyes open to find you still staring at him, your frown somehow much deeper than it was moments ago. He hesitantly reaches out, silently asking if it was alright to touch you. You nod. He's gentle when he slips your arms away from yourself, finally able to slide his fingers in between yours. "This... I'm not breaking up with you, okay? I'd be fucking crazy to do that."

You don't say anything, just stare at him with that same sad look. He sighs.

"What I realized is that like," He pauses, searching his brain for the right words. "I like coming home to you. After a short tour, or a long one, it feels... good to know that once I'm off that plane, I'm coming back to you."

Your eyes soften momentarily. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He smiles, small and a bit timid, and continues. "Then it made me realize that I'd really love to have a place to call home, you know? Instead of doing all this back and forth. It's fine if that's what you want to keep doing, but I think I'd really like to have a home... with you."

The silence ringing between you two makes his stomach turn. You stare at him, wide eyed and mouth open and the nerves from before come back because he thinks he may have fucked up, but then your hand squeezes his. He can see the tears welling in your eyes now and he watches you blink them away.

"...With me?"

"Yeah?" He's nervous, not sure how to take your response. "If that's okay? Like I said, we can keep doing what we've been doing. Back and forth between here and my place if that's what you want, I don't mind-"

His words are cut off by your lips, a bruising kiss suffocating whatever he wanted to say. His eyes widen for a moment before they flutter shut and he finally kisses back, before chuckling softly against your lips. You sniffle.

"Are you telling me you want to move-in together?"

Nick notices the first tear that falls when he pulls back, reaching a hand up and brushing it away with his thumb. His timid smile grows at the feeling of you nuzzling into his touch.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I'm telling you."

"Are you sure?" You actually sound nervous, staring at him with wide eyes as you asked.

"Of course I'm sure," He doesn't have to think twice, words falling from his lips with ease, "I love you. I want this, if you do."

It takes him a second to realize he had said it, and feels slightly embarrassed at the butterflies filling his stomach at how easy it was to say. His face flushes as your eyes widen more, lips parting as the weight of his words dawn on you.

"...You love me?"

His stomach turns again, and he nods slowly. "Yeah?"

"How long?"

"I think I loved you from the start." He replies sheepishly, cheeks burning at the wide smile you give him.

You blink away your tears again, leaning more into his palm that's still rested against your cheek. "I think I have, too."

Your words are soft, almost inaudible, but he hears it. His stomach turns and he can feel his heart pounding against his chest. His entire face burns and his ears are probably red, too, but fuck it. He doesn't care.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm." Your wide smile falls into something softer, much smaller, and he swears your eyes twinkle as you hum out, "I love you."

Nick doesn't know what to say besides smile at you, cheeks immediately hurting at how wide it's stretched across his face. "I love you, too."

"And I really want to live with you." You rush out. "I've been thinking about that too but I was worried I was moving too fast. Didn't want to scare you."

"Honey," He starts with a chuckle, "I think you could've asked me two weeks in and I would've straight up said you know what? Hell yeah."

You laugh, all thick with emotion and fucking beautiful that Nick can't help but lean in and press his lips against yours again. Your arms raise to wrap around your shoulders to bring him closer to you and he can't help but make a noise, a happy sound, and deepen the kiss. You pull away first this time, forehead resting against his.

"So, we're doing this?"

"Yeah. I think we are."

The two of you smile at each other in silence and Nick wishes nothing more than to bask in this moment a little longer. He doesn't know if he's ever felt happier. Knowing that you love him right back makes him feel things he wasn't sure he's ever felt before. It's in that moment, with the way you're staring at him like he hangs up the fucking moon and the stars, that he's going to ask you to marry him someday.

And it makes him feel damn good knowing that you'll say yes.

[venus0fl0v3]

Thank you for tagging me @caramelc0rgi !

What's the origin of your blog title?

I wanted a name ive never used online before so i picked the name of an oc i had when i was a kid and added of love because venus is the planet of love

Otp's + shipname

Since August last year, Cherik ❤️❤️ and before that hmm, the fandoms i was in were kinda dying down but i guess johnshi from mortal kombat or cageblade

Favourite colour?

Purple 💜

Favourite Game?

Probably Animal crossing i dont rlly play any other games, Minecraft is also fun. Story wise i think sally face, Or Mk1 the new one (ive never played it but i watched the story mode 🫣)

Song stuck in your head

They not like us by Kendrick lamar

Weirdest habit/trait

I talk to myself a lot but i feel like thats normal.... i hope.. i also break out into a British accent a lot too idk why..

Hobbies

Drawing, reading, walking (with headphones on and music going) just other crafts in general like scrapbooking and painting

If you work, what is your profession?

I graduated highschool recently so right now i just work in retail 💪

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be, realistically?

I have two sides, one wants to be an actor because i think i would be good at it and it sounds fun. The other wants to be a world known activist that influences heaps of people in the right direction because someone needs to do it 😭 🙏

Something your good at

Drawing

Something your bad at

Math, it stresses me outtt

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff

X-men, specifically the characters Charles xavier and Erik Lehnsherr

Something you forget

birthdays, im terrible at it

Whats your love language?

Buying gifts, or just paying for things in general. Dont have enough for a drink, here let me.

Favourite show/movie

My favourite movies are probably the xmen movies, the greatest showman, the alien movies!!

Favourite tv shows are You (netflix) Friends, the big bang theory and Lucifer.

Favourite food

Pasta

Favourite animal

Dogs? I guess, cause i have one shes the best, but an animal that isnt a pet i would say crocodile their fucking cool.

What were you like as a child?

Surprisingly confident, i wanna say loud too...

Favourite subjects at school

Art but just the class time drawing and talking to my friends. I didnt like what they taught us. And English, that was an interesting subject.

Least favourite subject at school

Math, i probably would have liked it more if my teachers werent so rude or words i cant say on tumblr

Best character trait

Hmm i would like to think that i am very self efficient, like, im always trying to be a better version of myself.

Worst character trait

I keep a lot of my complaints quiet, if someone did something that upset me i will not tell them. Although im trying to get better at that i feel like im progressing

If you could change anything in your life right now, what would it be?

I would like to change where im at financially, which is very possible i would just like it to happen a bit easier lol

If you could travel in time who would you like to meet

Charlotte Brontë (Author of Jane Eyre) but only because im currently reading Jane Eyre and i had this thought literally yesterday of damn i wish i knew what she was thinking when she wrote this. Because Jane is such a relatable character

Tagging!!

@wishchip106 @vanodka

Get to know your mutuals: tag game

thank you for @mapofyourstars and @ashestxr for tagging me 😊😊

What's the origin of your blog title?

when i was a teenager being a closeted pre-transition trans guy i felt really invisible and like i didnt fit in anywhere, a "ghost". and 512 is the name of a song i listened to a lot at the time. nowadays i find the url a bit cringy but im too lazy to change it lol

OTP(s) + Shipname:

honestly at the moment i only care about cherik haha but i appreciate raven x emma and logan x ororo as well :)

Favourite colour:

black for clothes, pink for literally anything else i own

Favourite game:

i have 1500 hours of stardew valley on steam lol. its an absolute obsession. it comes in waves tho, like twice a year ill get hooked on it again and create a new farm to achieve perfection on. other than that, i really loved playing undertale and graveyard keeper.

Song stuck in your head:

this is kind of embarrassing but atm im a bit obsessed with daisy by ashnikko (the ft. hatsune miku version).... I LIKE BETTER MUSIC TOO I SWEAR

Weirdest habit/trait?

pacing around my apartment thinking abt my current obsessions... i used to be so embarrassed but ive come to find out lots of people do this too so thats fine i guess

Hobbies:

reading and playing games, mostly. ive been trying to write more lately too

If you work, what's your profession?

ESL teacher. its not the coolest thing in the world but i really enjoy it

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be? Realistically?

literature professor in uni/published author

Something you're good at:

(literally the same thing ashe, who tagged me, said) i believe im a pretty good writer despite being slow and not doing it that often lol

also i know im a very good teacher (i know its my job so duh but youd be surprised with some of my coworkers...)

Something you're bad at:

keeping secrets, especially my own 😭😭😭

Something you love:

cats, wine and contemporary brazilian literature

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff:

why i love charles xavier so much and queer/feminist theory.

Something you hate:

uhhhhhh idk my ex i guess (happy valentines day!)

Something you collect:

hello kitty merch 😌😌😌

Something you forget:

dates and appointments, its so fucking bad i put everything on a calender above my desk and i still manage to forget them sometimes

What's your love language?

im very touchy and affectionate but i also love acts of service, like surprising people with small gifts (i believe thats part of acts of service?)

Favourite movie/show:

my favorite movies are xmen fc, dofp and xmen II (obviously) but also amelie poulain and fried green tomatoes

my favorite series are breaking bad and the office, ive watched them both multiple times

Favourite food:

chicken!!!! fried chicken, roasted chicken, chicken with pasta, chicken with rice and beans, chicken with mashed potatoes, give me!!!!!!

Favourite animal:

i was OBSESSED with cheetahs as a child, still love them but in general rn id say cats. also love monkeys

What were you like as a child?

a very idealistic dreamer with a bit of a savior complex (hello charles xavier). not the sharpest social skills.

Favourite subject at school?

in high school it was english just because it was so fucking easy bc i was fluent lol

in uni any of my literature classes

Least favourite subject:

hated physics in hs i was so fucking bad at it. and in uni i'd had ENOUGH of pedagogy classes they were soooo boring and repetitive

What's your best character trait?

im very honest and if i love you i will do anything for you

What's your worst character trait?

probably snapping at ppl sometimes. i know its terrible but i really try not to and i always apologize. up until last year also i always let ppl treat me like shit and didnt set boundaries. im unlearning that now.

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be?

have enough money to only focus on my studies and not have to work lol

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet?

maybe kim jonghyun. he was my favorite singer when i was younger and he passed away in 2017 :( he was such a great person :(

im not sure who has already been tagged in this but ill tag @caramelc0rgi , @foxherder , @disasterhals , @eriknocherikyes , @stinkrat-aleks , @mooniel, @eriksdefender and any other moots who'd like to do this!

[truckstoptigers]

i hate being fine all day & then all of a sudden feeling miserable

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[m-a-d-e-l-e-i-n-e]

I hope leftists who think they’re above voting for president or are voting for Jill Stein or whoever because it’s their stupid way of protesting the system feel good about themselves, especially if Trump wins partly because of your negligence 😍 I know you’re not doing shit to plan the proletarian revolution, especially before January, so you guys better not complain about something harming you that you didn’t even bother to try and change

(edit: changed the last part bc I wrote “…if life gets a lot worse for you” cause that does nottt sound right at all and I apologize for writing that)

[princeofcyberpunk]

hi motorcity fandom is this anything

i was not expecting the cartoon about teens with cars to genuinely change how i view the world

[lilislegacy]

HELP you are so funny for this 🤣💀

I just laughed for 5 minutes straight. I feel like people who don’t pay attention to your random rare lore that you drop in your tags are missing out cause girl you funny as fuck

honestly i forget that some people actually look at my tags LOL. i usually just say random things that come to my mind 😂

[deoidesign]

Hi, how did you learn to draw Steve's physique?

Ohh what a complicated thing to answer...

When it comes to how I learned to draw anything, it's hard to say anything too specific since it's always a culmination of many years of assorted study and practice... but I can try to do my best to explain some of the biggest things that helped me learn, some tips I keep in mind, and maybe at least some places to start/delve further.

(just a little disclaimer it's not like my drawings here are going to be 100% medically accurate.. they're just to illustrate concepts!)

The main thing about learning various physiques is understanding anatomy. Which feels obvious, but I don't mean proportions; these are important, but perhaps more important is understanding the skeleton and how it moves and learning where muscles connect to bones and where fat grows on the body. When you understand how these function on a more mechanical level, depicting form and movement in a way that feels natural comes in tow.

For instance, understanding things like the pronation and supination of the radius and ulna, as well as the fact that muscles can ONLY contract or relax, will help you understand a bit better which muscles will be flexed and which will not while someone moves. It's inherent to the positioning based on the structural makeup of the body... It's not like you NEED to memorize all the muscles and bones, of course, but understanding and gaining at least a passive familiarity with the concepts really helps.

In tandem with this concept is the way parts of the body flow into eachother. Muscles ALWAYS come in groups because they can only contract. Whatever muscle is there to lift something, there is a muscle on the other side to pull that bone back down. What this results in is a series of straight edges next to curves, which gives us a lot of really lovely "s curves" and dents and folds and so on and so forth just naturally occurring.

I would suggest at least learning the "bony landmarks", which are bones (usually) visible on the surface of the body. things like the iliac crest, the great trochanter, the 7th vertabrae, the acromion process... These can be used to help you understand the parts of the body as angles and relationships, rather than trying to remember lengths and sizes, which vary immensely... (since you asked about steve, he can be our model... also study these on your own don't just take my word for it haha, these are the ones I personally keep in mind)

I've done the same thing with body hair... learning where it grows and in which directions... It helps me make up variations without needing reference, because I have a set of rules I can follow.

The biggest thing that helped me understand all this on a much deeper level was my ecorche course. I sculpted this guy. We started by sculpting the entire skeleton to understand the bones, and then we added muscles on top. Not every single muscle, of course, but the "artistic muscles" AKA the ones which directly affect the surface of the body. Doing this let us see where muscles connect, because we would make a shape, put it on the bone where it actually goes, and then you get to see how other muscles overlap that.

This helped me, perhaps, more than anything else. But I also didn't just start with this course, I had been drawing for years before I even took it. I had been in school for years before I took it. Not that I think it wouldn't be helpful to someone just starting out, but I do think that the more you know going in, the better an in-depth course like this will help you and stick with you. Classes are also expensive, though so I'm not really like... recommending you pay potentially thousands of dollars to take one... But it did help me a lot, personally.

I also, of course, have done many figure, gesture, and master studies...

These just help you quickly gain a stronger understanding of generalized anatomy, and gives you real life examples of and practice with of how people move and balance.

What all this does when combined, is gives me a very solid ability to depict movement and form in a way that feels relatively natural from my subconscious without the need for reference.

The rest of how I've learned to draw his physique is honestly mostly just stylization. I understand the body, and this is how I am depicting it for his level of musculature.

And as I move into depicting him in other ways, either moving in comics or in animation, realistically rendered, or extra stylized, these concepts inform every step of that process for me! When he keeps the same/similar relationships between parts, he gets to still look like himself.

It ALSO really helps when putting clothes on, because the way cloth falls and bunches and lifts is all directly related to the form it is on... So the more you understand that form, the more you can depict clothing and movement in a way that feels natural.

This is all, of course, true when I draw anyone, you asked about Steve so I'm trying to mostly show with him! But because I'm just drawing from raw information of general anatomy rather than trying to study one body type at a time, it allows a lot more "give," I think!

Like, here's most of the cast from TTA so far... actually, they're not as varied as I thought they were nevermind LMAO ignore this part

But, it also makes monster and alien design much easier! It's a lot easier to come up with non-human anatomy when I understand human anatomy, because I can manipulate the knowledge I have...

There is infinite more to study in the world of anatomy... The complexity of the human body goes extremely deep. For our purposes as artists, we need only depict a fraction of it, but more information rarely hurts the process.

I'm sure there's something in here that's wrong on a technical level, I'm mostly going off of memory. But that's kind of my point - I understand enough generally and conceptually that when I am missing something and need to find reference for it, I understand what I'm looking at. It's much easier than trying to learn AND draw at the same time.

I hope even one thing in here helped you! Sorry it's so long.

[iknowwhereyousnoozeatnight]

this one's for all the yuri enjoyers out there — nsft under cut

meronia event prompt(s): scar